Detective Bob Bridger — page 208: what you’re looking at

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

DETECTIVE BOB BRIDGER. _ 201 “Tom Bowling, the hotel clerk, of course. I and Annette are invited, and you, Bobe, and the doctor, must accompany 19 “Thank you kindly, but somehow weddings don’t seem to run much in my line.” ‘‘But on this occasion I might need the assistance of a best man.” “Ah, if you have thoughts of makiny the thing a double event I am at your command.” “Well, Bobe, that’s about the size of my presenv inten- tions,” quoth the Scotch detective, nestling back in his chair, and blowing the fragrant smoke of his cigar in circles above his head. | “You see,” he continued, “every decent fellow ought, at some time, to become a family man, whatever be his trade. I don’t suppose that anything more attractive in the line of pins and petticoats 1s going to come my way—and I wouldn’t label it Mrs. Fandon if it would. But although I am, as I may say, an old ‘rounder,’ and well aware that my love is reciprocated, I find that proposing the exact moment when the knot is to be tied is a confounded ticklish matter. Wherefore I am very glad that Tom Bowling and the widow have extended us an invitation to their wedding, for somehow it seems that a woman doesn’t like to see an- other get the better of her in things matrimonial, and.it will only be natural that Annette, when she hears of the widow’s wedding, will want to show her that she, too, holds a winning hand. And, therefore, from the present state of my heart, I conclude that she will most lkely be- come Mrs. Fandon at the same time and place that Mrs. Bibby becomes Mrs. Tom: Bowling.” This was not the hundredth part of what the Scotch de- tective said at the time on the subject. He continued to talk on and blow the smoke in wreaths above his head. | His eyes were fixed dreamily the while on the curling vapor. In every wreath of it he saw framed a picture of his fair fiancee, and when the wreaths broke apart the blue smoke seemed, in his fancy, to swirl itself about and form the name ‘‘ Annette.” Bridger did not fully appreciate these musings of the gallant man from Scotland Yard. : In fact he lay back upon his chair and dropped into a oze. At midnight Fandon ran out of words expressive of the — EComicbooks. (e(6) m