Poor Billy. Every place he went, every time he lingered, every time he thought, he saw the face of the fair one. That is the condition of mind that Billy was in when he sat in his spacious den and wondered. Billy’s soliloquies were brought to an end by the abrupt entrance of his friend, Rechinald Rite, a delver into the history of the past. To Rechinald did Billy tell his troubles, and as he paced from one end of the room to the other, eventually coming to the window, he stopped short. “There,” he fairly yelled, “look.” And Rechinald gazed out of the window and saw the Black Beauty. Billy floundered, but Rechinald smiled. He took one of the books from under his arm and showed it to Billy. It was a treatise on the tactics of the cave man, and as he showed Billy a full screen illustration of Man and his Mate the thing became animated and Billy got an idea of what he was going to do to the Black Beauty, who so mysteriously had worked her way into his heart. The Black Beauty was outside of Billy’s apartments on the evening that he decided to find out once and for all if the Cave Man was a wise guy. The Black Beauty was right behind him. Billy led her a merry chase and then with a sudden swoop he turned on her, captured her and threw her into an automobile. Not stopping to see if he was stealing or borrowing the machine, he started out for a little place in the wilds. And he got here. But the Black Beauty put up an awful fight. Billy was there like a duck; he had to be on the edge of the lake, and although he hated to, he had to get rather rough and carry the beautiful one to a little log cabin. Here he told her that he would not longer stand for the mysterious gaze and the naughty shadowing. She had taken his heart by storm and mystery and now he would force her to marry him or he would know the reason why. She, instead of becoming tempestuous, merely smiled and proceeded to idle away her time writing on a small notebook. Finally Billy locked her in a cabin and went away to think it over. When Billy returned to the cabin he found it empty. As he sat by the little desk in the cabin he chanced to look at a blotter. With the aid of the mirror he fathomed its secret. The Black Beauty was a sob sister getting “atmosphere.”