THE OREGON. SUNDAY JOURNAL, PORTLAND, SUNDAY ' MORNING, NOVEMBER 28, 1911
IF A PARTY MEET A PARTY & By Jack Lait
oppose, Iff You , Were a Manried Man,
That a Dainty Miss of Nineteen Sought
to Hold Your Hand at Three 'Clock
in the Morning, Would You Tell Her
You Had Given Yourself to Another?
Patrolman Rourke Didn't Until He
Was Given the Surprise - off .His Life
(Copyright, 1915, by Jme Keeler.)
IX teems to be written in the book that
when a man does an act of gallantry
toward a female in distress he must
and shall fall in love with her. Any
man brave enough to be brave deserves to
fare well with the fair, and it is up to him
to- wrap his strong arms about her there
and then or as soon thereafter as circum
stances allow, As to the lady, of course
she falls in love on the spot. Let's see.
Ed Rourke, patrolman, was traveling
nights out in the tall grass. He had trans
gressed and had been transferred. He had
arrested a rowdy' with the wrong uncle, or
a drunk with a drag, oran alderman's pri
vate secretary, and for the good of the
ervlce, he had been assigned to a station
where It took him two days every day to
go to work from where he lived.
Ed was married. His wife was a giri
from his own parish, and he had known
her a long time. They had married with
out much flurry or furlough. Their home
life was honest (some part of a policeman's
life must be honest) and tranquil and un
exciting. Rourke had entered the police service
through a longing for adventure. He per
ferred it to becoming a plumber's helper
or a motorman. He wanted to hunt thievs
and raid opium dens and shoot burglars
caught in the act. And here he was, out
where he got burrs on the tails of his blue
coat, pacing for hours up and down cold,
dark residential streets where nothing ever
happened.
Everything out in that neighborhood
closed for the night before he got there
foi duty. No thieves were ever crazy
enough to go so far out. It wasn't a fash
ionable suburb one never even saw a taxi
there.
.
Only one incident lighted up the nightly
traveL On the 2:42 car each night came
Millie Pringle, a little waitress who worked
down town in a lunchroom until 2 o'clock.
Ed had met her one night when he saw her
get off the car and start up a dark street,
alone. He addressed her and offered uni
formed escort. She readily accepted. So
Ed found out that she made that car nightly
except Sunday, and he suggested that he
had better be there each night and see that
she got safely home over the two and a
half blocks of desolate sidewalk. Millie
said, gee, it would be fine if he would.
The only good look that Ed ever got of
her was as she alighted, when in the flare
of the street car platform lights, he noted
that she was prettily put together, chubby,
mlling, with nice white teeth and nice
ink lips and that she could not be more
han about 19. He liked her walk, too,
which was brisk and cute, and her talk,
which was the, what's what in the latest re
fined siang. She chewed her gum grace
fully, she wore blue boots with white heels
and, generally speaking, she was the kind of
a girl who would do anybody proud, any
where. Not a word had Ed spoken that would
not have passed muster had Millie's mother
been along. But there was somewhat In
her smile as she caught his face each night,
looking ahead while the car ground and
grounded at the crossing, that led Ed to
auspect that Millie had noticed his broad
ehoulders, his curly brown hair that showed
beneath the white military police cap and
his smooth, young face which could be
looked at without annoyance.
When sir? smiled he smiled right back,
riving tooth for tooth and eye for eye. And
Millie knew, likewise, that each dimple reg
istered, that the cocky little hat set off her
round face tellingly and that any man
might be proud to take her to the movies.
But no diplomatic messages had been ex
changed. Rourke was entirely within his
duties, lending to a lone girl police convoy
tt that hour, and Millie could accept it in
turn without compromise. They talked of
the weather and suffrage and President
Wilson's engagement and the fact that
THE SONG OF PEACE
Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year
came pretty close together and that was
all. Millie had told him what she did for
a living and that she was the only daughter
of a widow and that was alL. Ed had told
her that he. came to pound the suburban
flagstones because he was in Dutch at head
quarters and that was all.
And then one night Ed hurried, as he
did every night, to make the car after his
2 .J0 pull at a box six blocks away. Millie
got off. He was Just about to join her, but
she, quietly and without turning her face
toward him at all, said out of the corner of
her pretty little mouth, "Nix." Ed stepped
back a pace to get a better focus, for he was
puzzled. Then he noted that a man had
gotten off the car at the same corner, a
pace behind the girl. That was unusual in
the wilderness.
Ed saw the man, but the man did not see
Ed. His eyes were fixed on the girl,'" who
started up her dark street As she mounted
to the walk he stepped rapidly beside her
and took her arm in his hand. With an
angry motion Millie swept her arm out of
his gingerly grasp, turned toward Ed and
calledi "Officer."
Ed made it in two steps. The man saw
him, turned white, started to go, stopped
and stood frozen. Ed took him by the col
lar. "What's the matter?" demanded Ed, ad
dressing the girl.
"This goof," said Millie, hotly, "made a
play for me in the rest rant. 1 never gave
him a tumble. But he waits around till I
get off and tails me on that car and takes a
seat acrost from me and gives me the all
over like he was gonna buy me or some
thing. I wasn't gonna make no riot on that
car, so 1 let him step right into this. Now,
where do we go from here? Or dp I have
to let a lop-eared chicken chaser like this
run me all over town and get away with it?"
Ed tightened his grip on the fellow's col
lar. "It Isn't so, officer, " said the prisoner.
"I thought I knew the young lady. That is
I saw her in the restaurant and as 1 was
going up the same way 1 was about to sug
gest that as it is dark "
"Dark, Is It?" said Policeman Rourke,
and with his free hand he slapped the
masher across the mouth, drawing blood.
"Live up here, do you?" and he smacked
him again. Then with the hand that gripped
the coat Rourke gave the unwelcome strang
er a shove that landed him in the middle of
the dusty roadway in a heap.
Rourke followed to the edge of the side
walk. "If I ever ketch you annoyin' this here
young lady again or mashin' on my beat
I'll bust your nut and I'll run you in," said
Rourke, and he turned and took Millie's arm
and led her along toward her home.
Millie looked up at Ed's strong shoulders
in his well-fitting blue uniform. Her little
hand stole up on his arm and the spot it
squeezed was as hard as Bessemer.
"You're a bear," she said with feeling.
"It's that kind o' roaches makes me
wanna do murder," said Rourke. "I
didn't wanna take him in becuz you would
o' had to go to court an' so would 1, an'
the only way I could get to court at 9 in
the mornin' out here wouM be to sleep in
the station four hours an' then I'd get
home Just In time to be too late to start
back this here way again. But I guess he
won't worry you no more after this."
"Anybody what thinks he will a dime'll
get him rich," said Millie with more feeling.
Millie gave him her hand the first time
nat nient wnen they Darted at the rxtt.
And Ed took it And he noticed that she
had a soft little hand, though a working girl,
and that when he closed his big paw over
it It felt so warm and snuggly that he Just
kept It there until he suddenly remembered
that such things mean something, and he let
go of it with suddenness and vigor, raised
his cap and said:
Current Events As
mm
"Well, good-night I guess he won't
worry you no more after this."
"Anybody what thinks he will a dime'll
get him rich," said Millie, who had her set
phrase for each emotion.
Ed watched her down the black passage
way to the rear door where she always
slipped into the house, then he turned and
strolled back toward the main avenue to
meet the next car, from which the conduc
tor always tossed him an early morning
paper.
He was feeling pretty good. It had been
an adventure and he had been a knight
The monotony had been broken and so had
the ice.
He wondered yes, he smiled, then
smiled, then frowned, then whistled once,
then smiled again and wondered. What
would she say if she knew he was married?
He hadn't told her that he wasn't. Maybe
she suspected. It wasn't hard to suspect
it. But, no. Girls never suspect it Say
they don't even believe it when a fellow
tells them so.
And to some, again, it doesn't make any
difference. That love thing is a funny
sketch. A woman will let herself go, get
herself all in love and wrapped up in a man
she knows she can't have, follow him around
like a devoted little slave when all the time
she knows another woman has himbut
that's how they are, those girls. So
thought Ed as he strolled and as he smiled.
The next night was Sunday, so he wasn't
to meet Millie. But he strolled past her
house three times, telling himself that he
had to patrol that block the same as any
other block, didn't he? As late as midnight
he saw a light in the house. But he couldn't
see in. He wondered what they were doing
up so late. But what mattered? He would
ask her next day.
All next evening Ed found himself look
ing at his watch. He wasn't impatient for
2:42 nothing like that. But he Just didn't
want to miss that pull at the box, and the
girl would be scary and timid now that she
had been molested, so he mustn't fail In his
duty to her. No, by all means he mustn't
.fail. So he was there and waiting when the
headlight of the car swung into view and
standing at the crossing walk, as the plat
form stopped there.
Ed lifted his hat. and beamed up at the
step where stood Millie, with a smile on her
face, looking radiant
Ed reached up to help her off when
Suffering Disorderly Conduct the masher
stepped out from behind Millie, put his two
feet on the ground, reached up and offered
his uplifted hand to Millie. Ed pulled his
cap firmly on his head and with one quick
motion drew back his right arm. Millie
Jumped down, threw up both her hands be
fore Officer Rourke, between him and the
masher.
"Cut It out," said Millie sharply.
Ed stopped, his swing halting in midair.
The conductor rang his two bells and the
car pulled away.
"What the" gasped Ed.
"You lay off that party," said Millie.
"Why, that's
"Never you mind who he Is. You'll find
out mighty quick who he Is," and she
turned to the well-dressed little man. "Ar
thur," she said to him, "tip this fresh' har
ness bull off to what you think he oughta
get wise to before they make kindlin' wood
outta his hickory."
"Why," started the little man, clearing
his throat nervously, "I am Senator Car
berry, member of the state legislature from
this district, and "
"Not 'Franchise Carberry?" exclaimed
Rourke.
"They sometimes call me that," said the
little man.
"Why, then then you're the boss o' this
dlstric' an' you "
"You have nothing to fear, officer," said
Carberry. "I have no desire to punish you,
though you do take a great deal for granted
for Just a common patrolman, and you are
the Cartoonists Interpret Them With Their Facile Pens
STILL AT IT
Mill! gar him
too handy with your hands for a public
servant"
"But you was"
"He was not," cut in Millie. "He was
eating in the rest-rant and he seen me and
well, ' I guess if a party sees a party he
likes well, I guess he's got a right to get
acquainted, ain't he?"
Rourke began to see it slowly.
"Miss Pringle tells me," said the senator,
"that you are dissatisfied with your assign
ment out here. Mow, instead of having you
disciplined, as I well might and as perhaps
I really ought to, I am going to do you a
friendly turn. Miss Pringle has told me that
you have been of service to her in your
way, as every dutiful patrolman should be
to a lady so I have arranged that you be
transferred back to your old post down
town. You will he' notified in the morning
that it has been ordered."
Ed looked at Millie. MUlle looked at Carberry.
her handthe first time that night when they
"Why, I'm I'm much 'bliged," stuttered
Rourke. "That is, if the lady thinks she
can get home all right nights like "
' "You should worry your poor old nut
about me," said Millie. "1 ain't gonna be
flipping rattlers nights no more. I'm gonna
we're gonna Senator Carberry and 1 are
gonna"
Rourke staggered back a step. Carberry
offered hs arm to Millie, who cast an indig
nant and impudent glance at Rourke, turned
lovingly a smile of precipitated sugar toward
the senator and started with him for the
curb.
mm
"You will be notified of your transfer In
the morning," called the senator over his
shoulder.
"Leave It to him if he says transfer
you they'll hop you wherever he says,"
tossed Millie over her shoulder.
"Thanks," said Rourke, coming out of
his daze.
The couple had made th sidewalk and
SMALL
parted at the gate.
Rourke was 40 feet away. He took three
big steps, put his two hands about his mouth
to make a megaphone and called after them,
clearly and distinctly, "Thank you, miss.
And my wife'Il be much obliged, too."
Heroic Treatment
"In Belgium," said War Correspondent
Will Irwin, "I knew an artillery blacksmith
who carried on the sleeve of his uniform
the hammer and pincers the insignia of his
calling.
" 'Wot's them things on your sleeve
mean?" a civilian asked him one day.
" 'They mean I'm an army dentist,' he
said, with a wink at me.
"'Dentist, eh?' said the civilian. The
pincers, then, are to pull the teeth out with.
But the hammer wot's the hammer fur?'
" 'The hammer,' said the blacksmith, Ms
for use in bad cases to chloroform the
patients.' "
POTATOES