Judge — August 16, 1919 — page 6: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

cumber sundae!) and coyly mentioned her telephone number. It wasn’t hers, really, though; it belonged to the undertaker on the ground floor—and that was a funny thing, too, for Angie had often said she wouldn’t be found dead in his shop One day the undertaker who was always under- taking people, undertook to call her down to the phone. Angie always hated to be called down, but condescending she descended. It was her fat friend; she knew it was, because she could smell peanuts in the receiver. “Say, meet me at the Ritz, will you, Peacho? Right away!” Angela frowned. But-it short acquaintance, he called her by her botanical name. It wasn’t that some- thing seemed to be stirring and moaning inside the cof- fin on which t wasn't that, upon such Mi Ill i she sat t wasn’t even that the under- taker was listening, as usual, for he wasn’t; he was drink- ing as usual—embalming fluid. No—‘the Ritz”—it was something that often happened when she tried to think—a sudden rush of mud to the head. “But what are rits?” she faltered. “Is it a break- fast food, or something like a Yonker? “Oh, take a taxi, and ask the engineer. Hurry!” and he had hung up before she could say Jack Dempsey. She hadn't time even to_ think of saying it. It didn’t occur to her till wards. She didn’t take a taxi, but a taxi took her to the hotel whose bills towered high over the adjacent roofs There she paid the chauffeur—'twas all she had—a compliment. The poor girl could ill afford it, seriously ill; she had now but two left, and no more coming in till Saturday! But she was going to meet a man! This time love's guerdon would be hers! Angie thought a guerdon was some kind of a locket or lavalliere, perhaps even with diamond chips in it! * * | li ll iil | hours after- We now come to the party of the second part—a rather entertaining Friday Night party, from 8 till 10. He was large and blond; rather blond than large, though he was large, too—too large. Tanned by the fierce tropical rays of the electric light, his honest, leather-beaten features and even portions of his face and visage showed him to be a strap-hanger of more than usual vigor—one who could step on a dozen feet at once, not including his own. In full view of the audience, he was eating eight peanuts, with nothing up his sleeves and a silk hat. As he ate, he breathed; and as he breathed, he ate Long practise had enabled him to do both at once But he couldn’t do both and be surprised at the same time. He had to stop something, so he stopped breath- ‘Tue Prumper, Wuo Cut Orr Her Ear Wii His Tin Suears, Harpty Knew Her ing—for lo, Angela was before him, the love light in her ears. Here L be!" she cried. [twas a grammatic moment. He gave her one look. But then, he was always giving her things. He had been generous from the first. Not content with that, he gave her a cuff on the jaw. It was one of his best cuffs, too. “You are late, girl! Come up to my room on the fourth story, the only one, unfortunately, with a happy ending. It is in the Fast wing, near the wishbone. Follow me!” Did it bode murder, or marriage? Angie hardly cared. All she knew was that she was beautiful and desperate and slightly bowlegged; and heaven helping her, she would make this man her slave. If heaven wouldn't help her, it would be hades. How they ever got up to the room she never knew so why should I—or you Perhaps they crawled up the mail chute. Perhaps they were carried up qn a disguised as two near-gin rickeys and a liverwurst sandwich. But they are in the room already and we'll have to hurry to catch up tc them. At last was alone with him and two dozen mouse traps. They were all arranged upon the bed, all different nationalities, though most of them were females. Why had he set a trap for her in this lonely place? As both her hands were in her muff she could not shut her eyes and thus conceal her blushes “Now here is my best seller,” he went on as if noth- ing had happened, which, in fact, it had. He displayed a small silver contraption looking like the skull of a rheostat. ‘This is devised for the use of ladies who are afraid of mice. Just attach it to the garter, and it catches them on the way up, thus rendering it un- necessary to mount a chair or other quadruped. You, my dear, are to peddle them; you will have all rights north of Fifth Avenue. You have brains and tempera- ment and freckles, and should do well. I have picked you out of the whole of New York, but I shall return you. Now here is another, a trap with a chain to be fastened to the wall, grand piano or anything heavy, like a mortgage, or afternoon caller. You see, little on ‘The mouse, when caught, can neither pull the trap into his hole, nor the hole into his trap. You will work on a commission, say a captain's, or, if you do well, a major’s.”” But Angela Bish had a soul above mousetraps. She would catch larger game; and the wealthy peanut- cater, whose victims strewed the floor, not to speak of shuddering peanuts yet to be eaten, pale with fear, had the makings of a he-husband. Her chance had come. With a scarlet cry she hurled herself into his arms, and, by the hard-boiled kiss she gave him he perceived, too late, that she was virtuous. Amazed, shocked, he she comicbooks.com