HER MASTERPEICE.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXIX, Issue 249, 17 October 1908, Page 16

HER MASTERPEICE.

By HENRY C. ROWLAND.

CHATTEtt I. V r 7'. T.ii iii'ii [■"■■II —' l>>:inr<7 rorwnrd a-..■<■■_• ■ tr- iu-::ii'in >>f his divan and] dr.-., m>ll iii- ■α-aicii. I : .i>ii \ ■ -. r-orry tn learn that 1 ~ ■: . ! ar." h~> observed. I pro- ' i,.:-.-.I i>: I'rii'inl * 'giivie to nu-et j.jii, ;•; t!i>' fi.in , >t. Laznre on jii= ar--i\; :! fr :n ( hiTi-nur-. It is now too 1 ,-... li.r.vmer. he know:-; my address. a:i»l :'I.:.- .ire :i irrrttt many cabs." He t> ;'. ~..■ ~ • ii>!ii..n iit n hlaek-eyeu gir! W :i.i his [inkina the fire. '"Encore dv ti: . 7.i7.V." T i> |>:"ow missed Hie model, and went . ~ v 1 ■> /(> -I ■>~ !>i l:i-].i :"' crir] the girl. She T c- i,..l ;'■,. pillow, but ton late: ii< bt siiiv wsK nrirred for ever. 'I..avi' i>. wliiT" ii is."' -"'lid Fornst. in Frenrh. "Ft i~ ol>l mi.l musty and need? t> hi- sterilised: besides, the fire is low" \ short ynurqr m.nn with a plnasant' f:i, ar.'i v "r>> blond hair hnm'.od his lio.-i .1 i-iiji often- This was Mr. Chow. who was *t ml vine aruliititturc for two rp;!=fn-: fir-t. because if he had not done <=n '■■■ vvilild have !n>i>n requested to enter li = - f:'i : •■!■'- b:inkinD'-housr in New York; cpemidlv. he was very innil of architecture. "Who 'lid y r >u say your friend was. Lui'inn?" , "T"m Ojrflvip, of Indiana. Wp roomed tr-_- .-her .ii .■■■lL-γ". Afterward he took a te< !>".i>-:il course, an.l then went home to r:irry r.n lii< father"? business of btiildiii- w.-i'-L'oii-- Tom decided that there wi- niori" money in automobiles, so he is building ihem instead." •"•Ho is richt." ?aid a ?lim young man with n woinl-rful English accent. "He ctin L'ci more for an automobile than he could for a wnggen. .-aid I think that they use the same raachinery over there to make them. The one I went to the Tandorhilt Race in when I was over Ins: year was mn.de in an alarm-clock fn-tory. The only part that went was the niarm. and they had forgotten to put tliP u>ll on that. What else is your friend Oirilvie? To bo a manufaetiinT of Amen'ean cars is not enough." ■■St-p rapriinp! American cars. Bet'r.r.t. lie was my roommate at col-t-j". :iij<J .il.-o he is the mayor of South Fork/ , ■•Whoro is that?"' "InUiun.i. of courPP. It is a very lar;' , nnd thriving place, and Ogilvie tells n.e that it l;a? more miles of trolley-tr.T-i: than Paris." "Zut!" cried the model angrily. "I am L'oinn home. You make mc tired v.i:\, your jabber! Why don't you speak gem" hinsuairp?" "What :j lovely place it mu>t be." said th.> nrclii'OfJ. "Can't you see it? A cobweb of trolley-tracks winding be-tv.t-cn wanton factories, flanked by ashcan junslcs, muddy drains, and big chimn?vs. then a fashionable district with hou.-; -s thiit would make your blood run colli !" Hγ reached for Zi-Zi. pulled her onto r:- k'.v ■■■ and ?hovcd a tea-cake into her ri ti inoulli. "What i? Mr. Ogilvk doing over here, if h<> i- mayor?'' ■■lU' lia'-j ju?t been elected; doesn't asFumi , his ollicial dutie? until autumn. You foe, Oirilvie lias '.arue id,?as of civic ivpunsibil'ty. He wrote mc that he wanted to s'.udy the municipal government of Paris to see if he can get any ji.w idea? which might prove of benefit to South Fork.' , "All of you vulgar working people coniv , over here with the same old bluff," obrfi rvi 1 .Mr. Hammersmith, in his somewhat labnunMl accent. "If it isn't art or urrhiteeture or nm?ie it's politics oi Eo,-iolf!2T or to write .a book. Why aren't vo.: irank about it. as I am, and say that you come to loaf? Here. Chew don't >ru/T th>' girl that way! What dc you think fhe is. a capon?" •'You can't kill a Latin Quarter mode! with f'»od." observed Mr. Chew, releasing the Mrucrglini.' cirl, who tossed a pattei of qunrtter impudence at the group, ther depnrted. laughing. ' Chow looked at Hammersmith. "Anyvrav, you don't come here to loaf; yov c-omi- to carry Bruxellois Griffon pup.and drink camomile tea on the Rue Cour cello?." Tln> alleged idler flushed. He was £ very tall man. with high features anc a frame which is called lanky or ?len der. according to the clothe? whicl cover it. Hammersmith was exquisitely rlxessed. and his drawling accent was tli.- result of 50 many years of practice that it was no longer an affectation. "If 1 do.' , he answered, "it is at leas , a polite and harmless occupation. Yoi see. 1 love dog?, just as you love archi tec-tine and Lucian loves art. It realh doc? the pups and pagoda? and picture: r.o barn , .." He turned to his host. "Tel us some more about your friend Ogilvie Why a m.iyor? And how? Why not th> dipfomati' , "service, if that sort of thin; emusi-o li.ni?" "Tom djihio is a worker; a reforme end poliUi-al economist, and all that sor of thing—you will find a cigarette in tha bulii box. Ned —but in spite of that, o because "f !t - * :e ' 3 a vor - v ne Xh:s is his fin<t trip to Europe." •'No; really?" '■Rut does hf speak French?" "He speaks collpge French and Germai ver\ well. He learned them in col( blood out of books. I tell you. he is ■ ■worker. Ogilvie's metliods are those o our nui'jh-adnjirxl President. Incidental ly. iie is rich, and that saves him a gooc deal of time." "lirw rivh?" "Oh. rich enough to enable him t work himself to death without being ac ctir-vl of needing the money. He in heriied over a million from his father. : "Ho".- convenient!" "And has siriL-o nearly doubled it i] bi« own deals." , "S!.;nn«> on him! jMarried?" ■"Nn. H>> has always managed to duck Ef-ii- - !,'• ha.- not had time-" •■K,.-:d i.( —eh. the riuolade?" '■\-.-: Sio" a pood fellow—not in ou wr.v. V :;"!': .-=•■■. Maxim's will no 1 ijf._r :':. ■_>• iiiTuiii blood to his cheek neith-r iviH his righteous conviction vrt-v ni hi? li.i/urd uf n few louis i gaiiK- of .:ian>i> at the Automobile Clul Ai-ii. :; ■„■ prays he does it in hi? closel ]-i' In: vciiid iiot care for this sort c •\\';uit?"' •'lhr>- -trong men drinking mint te an i a smoky model flopping in and ou Iluwt-vor. tiuce he is going to live wit i::-- };:■ UKuht ;ls wull get used to it. Al yon goiivj to l*a.dy Talbot'a to-morrow! J iiu couvursntion drifted to othc topiii*. and lor the moment the Honou aiii.- 'iliumas Ogilvie. Mayor of Sout 3?ork. Indiana, was forgotten. IPrespntly Forest glanced at the cloc "It's about time Ogilvie turned up he observed, "3e wired mc on leavii

Cherbourg, and the steamer-train is always on time."' j "I hear the lift," said Hammersmith. I "Everybody hears the lift when it j jroes. which is not often,"' said Forest. "1 do not it myself: hence my excellent condition." The entire building shuddered as the small, automatic elevator toiled laboriously upward. Suddenly the groaning noi.~i- rose into a wail of agony, then pi-ascd. A moment later a man's voicu was beard calling to the concierge. "liy George!"' fried Forest, starting up. "That sound? like Ogilvie'."' He threw oprn the door and stepped out. At the same moment there came Ili'tUing up through the shaft a crisp volley of Ollendorff French with a strong Indiana accent. '"Hey, there! Concierge! L'acsensoor est arraytay! Quest cc qu'il faut a fayre ?" ••Hello. Tom!" yelled Forest. -'What's the matter? Stuck?" "Hello, Luce!" came the cheerful answer. "How are you. old man? Yes; stuck tight! Jammed in the flue! I had no business to get into this canarybird cacre. anyway! What shall we do?" "We! Who?"" Ofrilvfe's voice altered slightly. "There is a lady in here, also," he answered. Forest and his friends descended to the elevator, which proved to have | I stopped between two lloors. Through j . an aperture about four inches in width where the top of the lift door slightly , lapped that of the shaft, the mayor thrust two fingers in salutation. "That's all I dare risk, Luce," he ob- . served. '"The box might drop and shear . otT my fin! So glad I'm insured, although, of course, there's not the slight- . est. danger: it says so on this sign." , "It is safe enough.' , said Forest. "In ■ fact, that is the chief objection to it. It • i= a safe with a time-lock which does ; not open until the workmen arrive. Try ( sending it down." . "We have tried sending it up and down and sideways." replied the mayor. > "Is there anybody in the house who i understands it?" ; "I am afraid that there is no such | ! person in France. Tom." said Forest sadly. "Then." said the mayor, "hand mc , down a fire-axe, and I will unlock the i !icL " i I The artist was about to answer when the puffin? concierge arrived upon the r scene. Between this functionary and i Forest there ensued a voluble, impassioned dialogue, not one word of which the mayor could understand. , "What is the answer when you boil off the excess. Lace?'" he inquired, as the two paused for breath. "You must have patience. Tom."' said the artist. "This is Saturday afternoon, and it may be hard to get hold of the I workmen. The concierge is afraid to a meddle with the thing. There is absolutely no danger; you can't possibly drop— | 0 but you may have to wait a couple of j r hours." : "What!" cried the mayor stridently. * '"'Two hours?"' exclaimed a low, rich voice at his side. "How maddening!" "' "Madam." said the mayor, dryly, "do '• not be disturbed. We will remain in c this coop for just the time it takes to c get an axe and a step-ladder."' He " raised his voice. "Luce! The roof of f this cage is made of cardboard. Rip it t off!" "But—but " began the artist. c "But what?" growled the mayor. "Do you think that the top of this thing '- is worth more than two hours of liberty t> for two people, one of whom has been ,r shut up on a ship for eight days? Come, t get an axe and some steps." The pleay sant voice grew sharply imperative. ?, "I'll conduct the law-suit with your 0 landlord." "But perhaps we can find the workJ l men, Tom," protested the artist. "You g may not have to wait long, and if you r are hungry. I will pass you in somen thing. There is some salad—■ —" "Oil, Wap! Do you think that we *- are going to sit in this cage and nibble v leaves like a pair of guinea-pigs. I beg is your pardon, madam. Come, hand r- down something to lift this roof with— a hatchet, a fire-tongs, anything; it a « on"t take a second. I've been studj-ing d I its construction." i- j The interested expatriates upon tht •h j landing laughed; then the artist exV plained the situation to the concierge. is A passionate jabber of protest followed ;e his words. "The concierge says that he will not it allow.it. Tom/" began Forest. iv i "The concierge be —pardon mc, mad-i-i am—confounded!"' growled the mayor, y ', "Luce, you make mc sick!" He exam»s ined the four pairs of shoes visible II i through the slit in the door. "Is there e _ ! any man in that bunch who will be so le | kind as to hand mc an t.xe or an iceicr ' pick or a hatchet?'" he demanded fierce- ° j ly. "I only want one good jolt to lift » r ■ this paper cover!" r t I "There's a Zulu war-club in the L t ' studio." began Forest reluctantly. -,]-i "The Zulu club for mine!" said the p i mayor. "Bring it out!" ' j "If you will hold the concierge, Ham- | mersmith." said Mr. Chew. "I will get j the war-club. It will do mc good to see in ! a man do what I have always longed for Ij ; and never been able to afford!" i Ignoring the feeble protests of the 3 f J host, lie entered the studio and un--1 j hooked the formidable weapon from )C j ' where it hung upon the wall, and, disregarding the passionate protestations of the burly concierge, slipped the l weapon into the eager grasp of the j mayor. j There followed a series of vigorous, „ upward blows, then the light top of the little box was knocked clear of the body, not. however, without undergoing a certain demolition. Opening the door of the shaft, the men above lifted out the I detached part, disclosing the flushed fea--1 tures of a squarely built, dark-haired I young man. and a gill whose face at ' first glance it would have been difficult " ' to describe whether as pretty, beautiful, ?. or extremely odd. Mr. Chew had brought a high paint- ? b i ing-stool from the studio, upon which ln ; the mayor assisted his companion to I climb. With a gurgling laugh pitched ■ in a very low key, the girl accepted °* j the assistance of three outstretched ! hands, and was the next moment stand- | mg in the corridor. She turned to the ea i mayor, who had closely followed her. it. , "Thank you very much," she said. *•" I in a curious, throaty voice. She nodded • r f ' and smiled at the others, then slipped ? ' down the stair?, and from the landing ier beneath, her low. gurgling laugh came lr ~ J up again. [ th j Xhe four men glanced at each other I questioningly. The concierge was glow ck. J prjng. and turning the battered roof o: P-' i the lift in his clumsy hands, ng "Tom," said Forest, "let mc present

my friends. Mr. Hammersmith, Mr. j Chew, the Honorable Thomas Ogilvie, Mayor of South Fork." The three men laughed and shook hands. A keen assaying , glance shot from the clear eyes of the mayor toward the two faultlessly dressed young l men, who returned the look more de- - liberately and with a friendly interest. * The jnayor was of medium height, ' very broad, heavy in bone but lean in ' flesh, and with large, square wrists and l a firm, cleanly cut jaw. He was nei- N ther fair nor dark, was clean-shaven, i with a strong-featured face and a wide ' mouth. In the United States there t would have been nothing especially striking in his appearance, beyond a distinct ] attractiveness; but in Europe, from the North Cape to Gibraltar and from Queenstown to the Caucasus, he would 1 have heen identified at first glance as i an American. The quick alertness of his > movements, the keen, humorous, gray 1 eyes, the friendly expression with its ! faint tinge of mockery, all pronounced j emphatically the national type, so much ) more constant in the men than in the 1 women. ' Ogilvie smiled, showing a double row . of strong, even teeth: he said a pleas- t ant word or two. then looked at the ele- , vator and laughed. The growling con- , cierge had waddled off down the stairs, , and his voice could be heard snarling to . himself or at someone below. " Too bad to make such a mess of this toy dumb-waiter of yours, Luce; but if they will have those automatic box-traps they ought to provide some means of escape. Life is too short to spend a part ' of it sitting in a thing like that—even ' with a pretty girl." " Was she pretty ? " asked Chew. " Ft , 1 been trying to decide." ; " I couldn't tell," said Hammersmith. '■ Either that, or—or " " Ugly," said Forest. "No; bizarre—odd-looking. I believe, though, that she was pretty." " Sot to my perception," said Forest. '" It gave mc a sort of a shock when I looked down into that box and saw hei face looking up. She reminded mc of a tiger-cub in a cage. She had yellow, blinking eyes, and a sort of tawny head." " She looked all right to mc," said the mayor. " Perhaps it wasn't very gallant of mc to struggle so to get away from her; but she wanted to get out as badly as I did. Perhaps she didn't like my look! " All four laughed. A single glance at the mayor was enough to label him as j the natural born protector of all weak I things—women, the poor, children, sick kittens, and the like. " She seemed hard up, poor thing," said Chew. " She had no overshoes or umbrella, and her hat looked like .1 chicken that's been roosting in the rain." I " She was shabby," said Hammersmith. ! " Too bad. I say, just listen to that ! brute! " (To be continued on Monday.)