Life — January 17, 1907 — page 42: what you’re looking at

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

it! After all the years you have worked. Why, I have no doubt that young Mr. Hayward’s chauffeur is paid as much as you have been.” “That's what he said,” replied Daggett. “I didn’t know,” he continued, eagerly, “but”- Josephine raised her hand Don't!” she pleaded. “Don’t tell me you asked him to help you How could you?” Her mother stopped her. “Your father is suffering enough,” she said, “without you taunting him. He is not doing this for himself, but for us. He realizes that it is practically impossible to get another position as bookkeeper. We have interest to pay, insurance premiums to meet and our household expenses. We must not be too proud. We cannot choose our lot. I'm afraid, my dear, this ends your schooling.” Josephine flung her arm around her father’s neck. “Forgive me,” she cried. “Of course, I understand. I will go to work. We will yet be happy.” ‘That evening she sat up until midnight thinking over the situation. ‘The next morning, before the rest of the house were up, she had packed a few belongings and stolen away, leaving the following note: Dearest Papa: Lam going away to earn my own living, as I realize now that I can no longer be a burden to you. Do not attempt to follow me. I shall not disgrace you, but if I succeed I will come back again. I should know in six months. Your loving daughter, Joserni Josephine had S250, the gift of her grandmother, years before. As soon as the bank opened she drew it out. With the money in her pocket, she went to a leading men’s clothing-house. In a short time she had bought a complete man’s attire—suit, long overcoat, cap and all—for her “brother.” Putting them into a dress-suit case, she went out into the stre She had fully made up her mind that for her purpose it was essential that she should turn herself into a male creature. But how could the change be made? It was impossible to go to a hotel without being seen. Suddenly, late in the afternoon, after she had wandered about all day, the idea came. At five o’clock she engaged a room on the Fall River steamer. The next morning, when she emerged with the crowd, she was to longer Mis Josephine Daggett, daughter of a discharged bookkeeper. She had cut off her hair closely. She had put on the clothes she bought and thrown the others overboard, and, all things considered, she made a fairly respectable- looking boy of twenty. Only her hands needed attention. She rubbed them furtively on the ropes and chains of the steamer as she went ashore, and with careful attention, in the next few days, they became quite rough and manlike. entered a class of retired head-waiters, bankers and nondescripts, who were learning how to run an automobile in a popular school conducted for tha purpose, paying her money in advance. ‘The next week, through one of the men in charge, who came to look upon her as “a likely boy,” she augmented this with odd jobs in a neighboring garage, there being a scarcity of helpers, and in the course of two months, aided by the excellent mechanical and electrical training that she had received at the S Institute before her father’s misfortune, she found herself a full-fledged demonstrator for one of the most popular makes of American machines : Her hands had become hard and calloused. Her face, inured to the weather and helped along by plentiful applications of laundry soap, had become rough and manly, Her hair had a very respectable, manly part, and the auto clothes she was obliged to wear—sweater, long coat, cap and goggles—all contributed to make her disguise complete. * * * Bertie Hayward did not care to live in the commodious house provided by his father. He preferred the freedom of his own bachelor apartments. This freedom, however, he did not abuse. His dissipations were only occasional. He thought too much of his pleasures to permit any excess to interfere with them. Besides, he was more interested in motor cars than anything else. And this required a clear head. One morning he rose as usual at eight o'clock, and after a plunge and a rub-down was sitting in his bath robe, with his coffee and his Automobile News of the day kefore him, when his man announced a v “Young chap wants to sce you, sir.” “Who is he? What is he?” “Says he is from Sheridan's garage.” Anyone froma garage could alway ushered in. “Well?” said Bertie, crossly. “T came to see you about driving one of your cars?” Bertie looked his visitor over. “T might use you,” he said. “By the wa: I seen you somewhere—on the track ?” “Think not, sir. “What’s your name?” “Daggett. I’m a son of your father’s old bookkeeper. I thought perhaps you could give me a show. Father said you wanted a man with nerve and youth.” “Oh! But you're the dead image of your sister.” Josephine started. “Where have you seen her?” she faltered. “T saw her picture in your father’s house.” “Yes; there is a resemblance between us.” A pause. Bertie looked his applicant over again. “You don’t weigh overmuch,” he said. “That’s in your favor. Can you drive a car like hell?” “T guess I can.” “What experience have you had?” “T've had a part electrical education. Was in Stone’s works for several weeks learning the parts. Have been a demonstrator at Sheridan’s for some time.” “Ever been in a race?” No. But”—— “Well, you come around to-morrow morning and I'll let you know.” Bertie lost no time that morning in getting dressed. He telephoned for his car and by nine-thirty down at his father’s lishment. He went upstairs to the cashier’s office. . “Good-morning, Mr. Brewster. How is everything?” “First rate.”” “Got your new system running?” “Oh, yes.” “Whatever became of Daggett?” “The old bookkeeper? Oh, he hasn’t placed himself yet.”” “Poor devil. Had a family, didn’t he?” “Yes. Wife and daughter. And his daughter’””—— “No sons?” “Not that I know of.” “What were you going to say about his daughter?” “Why, she disappeared. Daggett has been looking for her without success. He has certainly been up against it for fair!” “What did she leave him for?” “Didn’t want to be a burden.” “Um. Well, let me have a thousand, will you? along.” ‘The next morning Josephine came again. This time Bertie was fully dressed “Sorry,” he said. “But I'm afraid I can’t do anything for you. I really don’t need another man just at present—unless he should happen to be a cracker-jack. But you sce Landerson, Billy Landerson. He has some racing cars. He might want some one. Come to think of it, he mentioned the fact. Here’s his address.” Landerson was Bertie’s rival. He was the only one Bertie feared. Josephine lost no time in looking up Landerson. ‘That young man was a wholly different type from Bertie. He had gone into business in his teens, was now the head of a prosperous busine devoted his spare time to automobiling. “Mr. Hayward said, sir, you might need a chauffeur.” “Can you drive a car—like hell?” This seemed to be the main requisite demanded by all automobilists. “Well, T'll try you out.” They drove around to Landerson’s garage, Josephine relating her ex perience in the meantime. “T have never yet,” said Landerson, “been able to get any driver to suit me. They haven’t got nerve enough, or they are too reckless. I had 2 Frenchman until the other day, who was so infernally reckless that he wa This story continued on bage 112 Bertie. Josephine was promptly your face is familiar. Haven’t I must be trudging comicbooks.com