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About The Omaha morning bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 1922-1927 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 27, 1925)
I “THE GOLDEN BED” 1 I By WALLACE IRWUS. I Produced u ■ Paramount Picture by Cedle B. DeMDle From a Screen' Adaptation by Jeanle Matpheraon. (Oepyrlabt. ii:«) _ (Contlaned from Tatmlu.l On* October afternoon he played nine hole* of golf with Flora Lee— or rather he began them. On this occasion she seemed lees fond of golf than usual. “I wonder who ever thought of this damned game?" she asked, having lost her ball a second time. "Some Scotch person of title. I'll bet. If it was Mary Queen of Scots I wish they’d chopped her head oft with one of their hideous mashies. Golf balls have a nasty little intelligence of their own, the way the can crawl into worm holes and make faces be hind your back. Heighol I’m half dead." She saved her strength by sitting on a stone wall while Admah and his caddy beat the grass. A lovely dot of color she made in her pink sport suit; or it was as near a sport suit as Tarls knows how to make—such a costume ns Psyche might have worn to chase her butterflies. She wore a veil over her impertinent lit tle hat which flashed with an indigo feather. Altogether she was charm ing and quite out of place on a golf courre. "Admah,” she called lazily, "I've forgotten my cigaret case and I wish I had a drink." He grinned and brought a flask from his hip pocket, earning the reward. "Indispensable treasure! There’s a silly little spring house up. the path, and we can swig out of a dipper." So the game was abandoned as lightly as it was begun while the two worst players in the world re paired to a place where good spring water could be tainted with Scotch whisky. "Listen to me, abysmal brute!" The first dipper hfcd been emptied. She sat with her feet crossed in front of her; her right hand held a mashle daintily as though it had been a para sol. He sprawled at her feet, quite content to leave the course and be alone with her. "Are you listening?" she Insisted, lapping him with her mashle. "I'm always listening.” he replied, languid in the autumnal air., "About that Hallowe'en party at the Sycamore. I'd made all sorts of plans to take you, and we'd have our own table and our own crowd. It’s one of their big blowouts of the year. Hut the Sycamores are getting-such a swelled head—" “Aren’t me going?” He made that much out of her preamble. ■ How can we?" she asked, wide eyed. "They blackballed you yester day." ••You don’t say so!” Blood mounted to hi'; checks. "I don’t blame you for getting mad. I’m hopping." "There’s no reason why they should want me," he decided. "Silly! Do you think I'd have put your name up If they hadn't? No. Bir! I know who dropped the black bean on you. Hunter O'Neill." f New York ••Day by Day— H—----—-) By O. O. M'lXTYRE On a Mexican Ranch, Jan. 28.—We landed at the ranch near midnight after an eventful trip through the desert, dog tired and in about five minutes I joined the adjacent snoreie with my almost perfect alto. Mike snores a deep base. Raymond Is our soprano. AVe were up before daybreak to spc a herd of wild horses ranging on the north. The leader was a magni ficent sorrel stallion who stood poised and then with a flirt of his head was off with the herd of thundering hoofs. T'pon our return Pinto, who was a gangly pup when I saw him last but now n keen graceful fox terrier, was frantic with excitement—yipping and frisking about madly. He had discov ered a rattlesnake in the sage bruch ami it was promptly dispatched. Skillets were sizzling with bacon and eggs and to say we did them justice is scarcely an exaggeration. I learned that my friend Sancho, the sheep herder who was the topic of » magazine article on my last visit, had passed away. Sancho could tell the time of day to the minute by the aun. He went for many months without seeing a human being yet he knew much of life and was content. He was found dead In the wilderness with his herd —faithful to the end. After breakfast we sat about smok ing and listening to a Mexican work man singing his native tunes. They were not exactly beautiful but some how the fitted in with the atmos phere of solitude. I began to fret about might happen while I have been away. The desert seems to have a strange effect upon its people. Ranchmen will tell you of workmen w ho will go sometimes for several days without speaking a word to a soul. Then they have spells of garrulity bubbling and enthusiasms. Toward noon we motored over to the clearest stream I ever be held. It was some 20 feet deep and you could see the rock bottom with crystal clearness. All sorts of fish sw’am ebont and the nlmrods In our party had a h*PPy half-hour. In my excite ment over oue near catch I did a Brodle off the embankment and came out looking wet. foolish but managed to retain my girlish giggle. As a hunter and fisherman I Imag ine I could make a good Ice skate salesman In Florida. When one trout got away a consoling old darkey said: "Neber min.’ p'haps you’ll get one of his kinfolks.” But I didn’t. For lunch w# had a deer's head cooked all night in a mud easing and some venison roasted over an open fire. Again we ate our fill. There la total freedom from worry about your appetite on ft raneh. Even the chronic dyspeptic becomes a glutton. In the afternoon we passed through the •most completely deserted village I ever beheld. Most of the adobe ' houses had erutnbled through age nnd others had b*en sacked and pil laged by bandits. With a total of about 70 houses there were only five Inhabitants. Two of them past So with clouded minds. A mangy half wolf •nd half dog stood In a doorway and bared his fangs menacingly aa we passed by. We returned to the ranch house ■rofinri dusk I never knew before how friendly the gleam of a coal oil lamp could he. It has more warmth, aheen, and friendliness on a desert that the moat magnificently lighted fthandelier to be found In New York. J "So that’s It—hum—and he's crazy 'bout you." "Hasn't he a sweet way of show ing it!" she cried, but Admah's tone was mild as he urged, "Now don't you give it a second thought. Just keep your table and go to the party. Enjoy yourself. Never mind me."* "How can I help minding you?" She was a listle shrill. "I was holding that table, expecting you’d be elected. And I wouldn't think of going to their old party without you. It would be perfectly spoiled.” Admah reached for a sprig of honeysuckle. From this he plucked a leaf and tasted it experimentally, an instinctive effort, perhaps, to be lieve his senses. He had heard her say that his absence would cause her pain. "Look here. Flora Lee," he began, "it's awful nice of you to say that. But about this Hunter O’Nelil busi ness. You used to be good friends, and I don't want to make any trouble. I reckon he's got his own ideas, and the Sycamore club don't mean so much to me, except that you're there—" “I won't be any more,” she said quietly. "Shucks’ On account of me?" "Who else?" Her look seemed to draw the heart out of him, yet he sat like a lump, failing utterly in his role as a lover. He mustn't take too much for granted; that was his con trolling thought. "What I'm trying to get at 's this,” he mumbled. "Why should I stir up a lot of trouble for you? I don't want to be the cause of any feud between you and Hunter—" "Don't be a silly jack!" she be sought, humor returning. "But I reckon you're mighty fond of him.” "Hunter? He was nice to have around at dances—until he got too tight. He played a good hand at bridge, and he could be the life of the party—when he wanted to. But I've never known him to have his mind off his precious self for more than twenty minutes. When it came to a pinch he was always a right poor excuse for a friend.” Again she lifted her fine ores. "Am I—" he began thickly, scarce ly knowing what he would say. "After what you’ve done for me, Admah,” said her swftet, low voice. "I'm mighty glad to do this ltttlp thing for you." His vanity flamed. Bold questions were ringing. Should he ask her now? Would she consider him? What would she do if he. her abject slave, should reach out and enfold her .peer Jous, fragrant body? How much would she do for him who wanted her so achingly, yet scarcely dared ■ look into her eyes? But still lie sat immovable as the stones that held him. He glanced shyly down at her adorable face, so meek, so inviting. But not for me! his conscience wailed, and in the hesitation he lost her. She changed the mood with one of her slangy inspirations, which was quit» like Flora Lee. "Admah, let's hit ’em in the eye!” "O’Neill?” he asked with a sort of fierce relish. “Lordy no. Huntleg dreadfully clever with his fists. But listen. Let's give a ball on Hallowe en night.” “What sort of a bill?” In Flora Lee’s vocabulary a "ball” was any thing that lasted late. "Oh, a''whopping big one. Hire a floor of the Hamilton Hotel, stuff it full of American beauties and jazz bands and food and drink and pretty girls. I’ve found a new bootlegger. He’s a precious darling and can get you anything—even champagne. Not good champagne, but it fizzes and looks dreadfully impressive.” "To get the Sycamore g goat?” he asked. "Why not? We can stampede their whole darned party right over to ours.” Her fare was suffused with inventive fire. "I ran take anybody 1 want away from the Sycamore. We ll Invivte every man Jack of ’em that 'Isn't dead from the neck up, and when the poor old left-overs get out to the River for their dance they won't find anything but the decora tions.” Had Aflmah Holtz been himself— i what lover is quite sober?—he might have considered the ethics of Flora Lee's plan. Instead he stretched out his legs, grinned and said: “All right. I’ll furnish the ball and you do the inviting." "Fair enough!” she chimed. "Wouldn't It be fun If we Invited a circle right around Huntie O'Neill?" “Well, I wouldn't miss him at all," admitted Admah. "I wonder if it wouldn't be more Insulting to ask him," she mused, then got bored with sitting In the spring house and held out her hand for a lift-up. 'What does this sort of thing mean? Where’s it getting me? What am I doing, putting up a bluff with a lot of people I don't belong to and who don't want me to belong? These questions came to hint again, unanswerable, the morning after his talk with Flora Lee on the Country club court. She wasn't for Admah Holts: and in saner moments he saw that clearly. But the grandiose din ner thereby, according to Flora Lee many eyes were to be knocked out. was being attended to with a prompt ness unusual to her. By eleven o'clock she telephoned to his office, radiating plans (or her magnificent eye-knocker. Browne Folsom, mana ger of the Hamilton Hotel, would would do anything for her, she in formed Admah. And they must get nut cards to make it shriektngly for mal. And they must have bridge ta hies for the frumps. And wouldn't It be rather peppy to send to ijt. Douis tor the crazy Saxophone Kight—the ones Dot Wheeler had for her dinner dance? And about the booze. She had telephoned to Scuddefville where her* perfectly darling bootlegger lurked for reasons Of his own. Although their Hallowe'en dance was planned to he as formal as It was expensive, the haste of preparation gave it an excitingly impromptu flavor. Or maybe it was the influ ences of Flora Lee, always always ex citlngly impromptu. She was charged with a surprising energy. After a week of it she declared that never in ail her life had she worked ao hard This was literal^’ true. Margaret Peake looked on with amused detachment. When Adniah came to her with questions her lips held the smile of a rather hard worked Giocotida. seeing much and saying little. Cheerfully agreeing, she managed to express Ser disapproval —of what? Certainly not of the prank her slater was playing on the Svca more Club. She thought it quite a meritorious Hallowe'en Joke. (To Be towtlnned Tomorrow ! Don't f'mH to see the *nr«fou» Cecil P Do Mule production of "The Holden Brrl ot the strand Thrater ouriln* Saturday, .lanuory 31 - Adverneement. _ Real Folks at Home (the Milkman) By Briggs had An extra Bot of Grade A hcm- Hc'i aBo^t^h*'"'^^ S MOR NIM& - -J3RINNIN' IT To / iVORiT ON N»Y RouTB - " • M« 1 5AVg IT-- SANA/ OLD l-AAN ( fi|Ve Mg A -DOLLAR • EiO TmATA / v7uX>D 4TA66C»im' in AT Five- I *L(_ Ri4Hf" T1-D3 GRADS (S ) ' 0H£!J:e? ”,~ r. ~ ~ RONN.NO extra OP Hl5 StfCRi Haw miCA CARRY ON AND 5 TaY Ou I I've cot To go douim aud Hei-P cmsck up om cm't»*s This moaning i MADDie BSST ^HOVUIW LWT MOUTH* • HABA.T vmas 4ecoNt> Got To see Boot • JeRRT GETTlM6 sSmoD Too • ll k ABIE THE AGENT Drawo for The Omaha Bee by Hershfield , A Krai Kirk al I.a«t. v»E qces oio the roa& V A^& i HERE A lOCRt) ')'• p PROM HIM - mot E^Em a ;’ |u UTTLE TELEGRAMi ^ I • w "YOU EVER CERta Kiev ^ar of Such a _ Tw:^r. mutOtyc. 5 A 4 THE NEBBS ♦ BARNEY KEEPS UP APPEARANCES. /WHW'iTrtlS ? P.EOECOPKTVNG HOME - vO SETS Or GoETAVN$,AnO &HAOES *0852?• A.NO FttOMTHE -DuJNEP TOP TM»«TV-*3*° A PLATE - FL0PAL ternsxtc. *4o°s total*iso*-*. "Thi&tx people at EkNiE'3 vajCOOivjG ! SHE MUST at PAMnG Some OF them to come - too coolont get Tm«.tt' folws to Come to his ^roNEHAL. TOR NOThusiG Directed for The Omaha Bee by Sol Hess (Copyright 192S) /X WONDER WHS THAT Guv CouLOnT HAVE SnEAKEON orr QUIETLV AKiO GOTTEN MARRIED UKC JOHN FREES! DID INSTEAD OF MAKING ALL THIS NOISE FOR MV DOUGH • WELL WHAT EVER THE PRiCC \S IT'S WORW it to get CiD or that Guv j bot oh mow Slowlv / j Tuc Time moves On '■ when X was a K\0 i USED to ^ ] LOOK FORWARD TO PlCNlQS., SlRTWDAVS,, XMAS ANO THE LAST OAV or SCHOOL^ WitM GREAT HAPPINESS BUT nothing in MV LITE EVER MEANT ''Copyright. 19?5~ by The Bell Syndicate. Inc >_j Barney Google and Spark Plug OH, HAPPY DAY. Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Billy DeBeck * _° 7 (Copyright 1925) GOLLY, 1 NtVltR TAUGHT (MY PALS VJOOULO DRUL ALCN6 UJYTW ME n^TZZ Z - HumoREO WHEN XM OM MY UPPERS -Th* , SCATK^n Je. v.e \r\c a /\e DULL IMC. A o*r> ri AP^ ^ ME almost modes me To tsars « [/ UKe wcrr ^A*es * HUNOSBO BUCKS' FEBRUARY SEUENTU THEY TuRN OVlER ABOUT SOO «N ZGWIE \ The RACE -Track "TO ME AMO X GET <S«ANO STAND » AMO THis is OMlV ALL THE GATE MONET - ILL " ALREADY - * AS* PER . *g£ «UO OAY CALL OP THE. JOCKEY CLUB TOUV6 GOT A LOT ^ \ AND RIND dot Hows MANY OP" “SYMPATHISERS IN UAme _ ^CKSTS HADE SEEN TovoN - ITS GONNA ON 1*LE - Vb BE A GREAT DAY_ f * * S). /That’s You or cme***! I wron6 oet opfa tme street !) ) Bill 'tbu-RE supposed To be <VYAPVINC* Tfc DEATH * DXE THIP^K The PUBLIC'S (JiCUNft BUV BE^EEiT "Hckets tor Too ip ^caJ'ri AROUMO’ ■BRINGING UP FATHER u. Drawn for The Omaha Bee by McManus (Copyright 1925) < SsAV OIINTV: NIACCIE OObT WEMT OUT AH LOCKED HE IN HY ROOH- *bHE HID THE KEY60MDER THE promt ^ DOOR. MAT- COME UP AM' <i''r ’eh them tie eh to A PRICK *'M' THROW IT IN ^Y WINDOW CIT OUCAN ' THEL, C>a\_l player To | THROW THE fcRlC-K- r' I © 1S29 ®v Int’l Fc»tu«i Sfnvicc. Inc JERRY ON THE JOB FURTHER INFORMATION WANTED. Drawn for The Omaha See by Hoban I ~ — — w -—. . <Couvr;irht 1S2S) A GGrsr EKSTi'n.Eo ^CCH'BAtO GBoSjEMOS. »S OUT “TUEttfc ■ viwfirs -rue *-r verwicr ?