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Page 26 text:
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THECANDHOok It was a hot and sultry day in June when a smartly dressed traveling man, with hat tilted on the back of his head, sauntered into the lobby of The Cliff House, San Francisco, dropped his grips before the register and exploded a mild ‘‘Whew! It’s a hot one.”’? The clerk smiled and sheck hands heartily for the travel- ler, none other than Oscar Engelbrecht, was no unfamiliar per- sonage in this, is favorite hotel. His eyes wandered to the regis- ter and pencil in hand, he was about to write his name down when his eye caugh? the line at the top of the page: ‘‘Harvey Vollen- dorf—Manitowoe, Wisconsin, Room 69,” in big sprawley hand- writing. ‘“‘It’s Harv, Bud, an old friend of mine,’’ and he dropped the pencil and ran for the stairs, which he took four at a time, to the first landing. He grasped the knob of door 69 and burst into the room to behold Harvey shaving. His sudden appearance caused a slip of the razor and a cut on the chin was the result. He turned towards the intruder with a very unpleasant look in- deed but on seeing who it was soon had him in a hearty embrace. The soap on the face was forgotten and for a moment neither could speak. They finally found their voices and then both talked at once. They laughed and chatted on like school children, Engie’s one desire being, to get the addresses of the other boys and girls, as he was wont to put it, and he was modestly informed by Harvey that ‘‘Vollo,’”? a renowned mystic was in town and might enlight- en him. Oscar seemed pleased upon hearing this bit of good news and begged Harvey to go with him to consult this mystic. The latter pleaded a headache and was finally excused. Engie however promised to call on his return and tell his experience. He left the room with a buoyant heart and after a hasty supper, left the hotel and set out in search of the fortune teller, In the heart of the city, and on the main street he came upon the sign that read in part, ‘“‘Your fortune told— past, present and —24—
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Page 27 text:
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future revealed to all. Satisfaction guaranteed. He smiled and pushed open the street door. Here he came in contact with a sleek looking Jap who immediately ushered him into the parlor of the mystic. He was met by the bearded mystic himself and after brief formalities offered a chair. The great ‘‘Vollo’’ took a chair nearby and sank lazily into its deep cushions and at the same time a weird moaning sound came frem above a richly decorated cabinet in the corner of the room which made Engie stare in wonderment and fright. His eyes protruded like those of a snapping turtle and he half rose in his seat. “Your wish, ‘‘Oscar Engelbrecht, began the mystic, is to find the class of 713. Am I right? Engie here started to leave his chair and move for the door. ‘Kindly be seated,’’ went on the former, ‘‘I will tell you al— do not interrupt me though, while I am in this trance, for then the divine spirits yonder are in communication with me and once you slight them the thing is off— so listen carefully,’’ and the mystic closed his eyes again and waited. Engie wild-eyed watched him in silence. Finally the clear musical voice of the fortune teller spoke as the moaning ceased. ‘‘T see a large flash light—it is a theater announcement—it reads, ‘Swede Johnson-Ora Fetzer—in a Charming Widow’.’’ ““Hah!’? escaped from Oscar, ‘‘Swede always was an actor and who’d a thought that of Gra. I love her just the same, and,’’ here the Jap came forward and placed his fingers to his lip to fo) signify silence. Vollo went on, ‘‘I see a church, a minister is seated behind a pulpit and is singing a celestial hymn under the direction of Miss Miriam Johnson. He is,’’ a pause followed— ‘‘John Petska—yes and in the front row are the inseparable Misses Verna Rudolph and Viola Beackman.’’ The next scene was in the reception room of a mansion on sixth street in Manitowoc. Evelyn Karnopp, whose husband was a reporter was entertaining a large number of guests. Among the famous people, was a missionary, none other than Ethel. White, from the troublesome districts of Mexico. ‘‘An artist’s studio:— the artist Erwin Fanta is putting the finishing touches to a portrait of a lady. Seated in the rear of the room, is the exact likeness in the form of Hazel Gustaveson, the famous authoress of the novel, ‘All for Love’.’’ “‘T wonder who the hero is, I think I can tell, Vollo. .It’s”’ and here again the Jap stopped the inquisitiveness of the relent less Oscar. On and on went the mystic; the scenes seemed to open to his DD
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