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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, March 18, 1916, LAST EDITION, Image 18

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1916-03-18/ed-1/seq-18/

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REQUITAL
By H. M. Egbert
The little purse lay at Halliday's
feet, and the girl in shabby dress who
had dropped it was walking away in
total ignorance of her loss.
The man's impulse was to run after
her and restore it. But she was al
ready half a block distant, and, in his
condition of starvation, he could not
catch up with her. And while he
meditated and fought with tempta
tion she was out of sight
A course of dissipation, betting,
drinking, had lost the young man his
position. For days he had been with
out food and homeless. Yet he was
not by nature bad. Temptation and
the loneliness of a great city were
chiefly responsible.
He opened the purse, to find a ten
dollar bill, a little mirror, and a few
cards, giving the name and. address
of Miss Isobel Blair. Shamefacedly he
took the money, thrust it into his
pocket and flung the purse away. On
second" thought he picked it up again.
It was dangerous to do that. Some
how he connected the finding of the
purse with himself. He laughed at
his folly afterward, but he kept the
purse.
A good meal restored him wonder
fully. With four dollars in his pocket,
what more natural than that he
should go to the race track? He could
do nothing more with his money than
invest it on the tip he had received.
Four dollars would not help him in
any other line. It would not buy him
clothes enough in which to seek a
job.
He put it on "Flyover," and ten
minutes later found, to his amaze
ment, that he had eighty dollars to
his credit
His brain reeled; the fever of bet
ting ran through his veins. He placed
the eighty on a rank outsider, whose
name, "Tur Up," attracted him. And
at the end of that race he had nearly
, a thousand.
"Hi, want a tip, Mister?" urged a
ragged man. "Try 'Schoolteacher ' "
Halliday turned away abruptly. The
word reminded him of the thin girl
in the shabby dress. He had thought
she was a schoolteacher. Summon
ing a final effort, he left the track
and took the train homeward.
That evening, newly dressed, and
looking more like a man than he had
"Hi, Want a Tip, Mister?
looked for months past, he made his
way toward the girl's home.
Miss Isobel Blair rose from her
books under the lamp in astonish
ment at the unknown man who had
called at the boarding house. She
was decidedly pretty, Halliday
thought But there were ravages of
illness visible upon her cheeks, and
she looked thinner than in her street
dress.
Briefly he explained the finding of
the purse. ' Her joy was so genuine
that, before he knew it, Halliday was

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