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Newspaper Page Text
i'"i ' i iiO"TT
By Walter Joseph Delaney
(Copyright, 1915, W. G. Chapman)
"Some money, eh? cheerfully in
sinuated the cashier of4he Mound
Valley bank, 'way out in Montana,
where there is more live stock than
"It's a comfortable nest egg, yes,"
replied the bronzed, bright-eyed
young man to whom the bank official
had just handed a thousand dollars in
currency and a draft on an eastern
financial institution for nineteen
thousand dollars. "I've worked hard
for it on the ranches, sold out luckily
and I'm bound for home feeling like
a schoolboy on a vacation."
"Going back home?"
"Fast as I can. You see, it's four
years since I left Hopeton, a little
town in Southwestern Illinois."
"Folks expecting to see you, I suppose-?"
suggested the chatty bank
"N-no," and the animated face of
the speaker shadowed somewhat.
"You see, I was brought up in Hope
ton, an orphan. I left there deter
mined to make a start in hfe, go back
and feel a pride in showing my old
friends that I had made a man of
myself. I suppose most of them have
forgotten. There may be one "
"Your girl, I bet!" joked the cash
ier. "I wish she was!" declared Austin
Morse, expansively "but, no, I can't
hope that. I knew her, liked her and
we were friends, and between you
and I it was half on her account I
left Hopeton, although I never told
her so. She was poor and so was I.
My big dream was to seek outside
better opportunities for getting ahead
and then go back with a fortune."
"But she's waiting for you!" en
couraged the breezy bank man.
"How I hope it!" voiced Morse,
longingly. "See that?" and he lifted
his watch from his pocket Attached
to its fob was a locket, common
enough, but to its center there was
soldered a tiny lump of virgin gold.
"My first luck out here was finding
that bit of metal and a lot more like
it." narrated Morse. "I've worn it for
over three years on that locket and
inside say, Morse interrupted Dim
self as his auditor smiled sliehtly, "do
you wonder I sometimes dream of the
girl I did it all for look!"
He opened the locket A fair face
showed sweet, innocent, captivat
I don't wonder," voiced the bank:
"I've Worn it for Over Three Years
on That Locket"
man sincerely. "Good luck, old man!
You certainly deserve it," and he
slapped Morse on the shoulder as was
the hearty, far western way.
So Austin Morse started forth on
his journey as might some devotee to
a cherished shrine. Mostly his
thoughts were of Helen Warren. He
recalled former conversations, her
i smiles, the glances of her eyes. Then