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WESTnUN KANSAS WOULD
he Ambition By HENRY RUSSELL MILLER (Copyriaht. 1913. by The 10 SYNOPSIS. Mark Trultt. encouraged by his sweet heart. Unity Martin, leavea Bethel, his native town, to seek his fortune. Simon Trultt tells Mark that It long has been bis dream to see a steel plant at Bethel and asks his son to return ana bulla one If he ever sets rich. Mark applies to Thomas Henly. head of the Qulnby Iron works, for a Job and la sent to the con struction cans- His success In that work wins him a place as helper to Roman Andzrejzsici. open-hearth furnace man. He becomes a boarder In Roman's home and assists Piotr, Roman's son. In bis studies. Kazia, em adopted daughter, shows her gratitude In such a manner as to arouse Mark's Interest In her. Heavy work In the Intense heat of the furnace causes Mark to collapse and Kasla cares for jiim. Iater Roman also succumbs and Mark gets his Job. Roman resents this and tells Mark to eret another boarding place. Five years elapse during which Mark has advanced to the foremanship, while his labor-saving devices have made him Invaluable to the company. In the meantime Kazia has married one Jim Whiting. Mark meets with an accident which dooms him to be a cripple for life. He returns to Bethel Intending; to stay there. He finds Unity about to marry an other man and wins her back. Unity urges him to return to his work In the city. Mark rises rapidly to wealth and power In the steel business, but the so cial ambitions of his wife make their mar ried life unhappy. The big steel Interests tre secretly anxious to get hold of stock In the Iroquois Iron company, supposed to be worthless. Timothy Wood house seeks financial assistance from Mark and the latter buys Woodhouse's Iroquois stock at a small figure. Henly forces Qulnby to let Mark have stock In the Qulnby company. Mark finds Plotr mak ing a socialistic speech on the street and the boy shows that he Is still bitter against Mark. Mark finds Kasla, who Is divorced and Is now a hospital nurse, caring for Roman who Is near death. Mark is advised by his physician to stop taking drugs and take a long rest. He frets six months' leave of absence. One day he takes Kazia out driving, and they meet Mrs. Trultt. A bitter quarrel en dues and Mark demands a divorce. He absents himself from the city during the divorce proceedings and makes no an swer to the sensational charges brought by Mrs. Trultt. On his return he Is treated coldly by many former friends. CHAPTER XX. The Red Glow. Henley did not know what an Im petus he had given with his "Pick out the thing you want most and Sght until you get It." Mark had not sought out Kazia, More than he would admit to himself, he had suffered during the weeks of in justice. ' Suffering had for the time dulled the longing for her. And be hind that had been & proud reluctance to offer a lore tainted by the tongues of scandal-mongers. But now the hun ger for a great lore born on an autumn evening of his youth when he had come upon a frail slip of a girl raptly gazing into the twilight, too much a part of him to be stifled even during the years of fierce blind strug gle and disappointment made Itself felt again, downing pride. . . . .He called up the Todd hospital, was told that Mrs. Whiting was not there, but could be reached at a certain num ber. He called up that number. . The response came In a low voice that even the telephone could not rob of its music for him. His heart leaped. Kazia!" There was a pause, then the low voice came again: "Who Is that?" "This la Mark Truitt" Another wait, so long that he thought the connection had been broken. "YesT "Is there any place I could meet you by accident?" . "Is there any reason for an acci dent?" , . "If you think not, there Is none. . . . Are you still there V "Yes. . . . You can come here." She gave an address. "This evening?" - "If you wish. . . . Good-by." . He alighted from a car that eve ning before a big but unpretentious apartment house In one of the city's quieter neighborhoods. Three stories above the street he came to a door on which was her card.' He knocked. She opened the door. For many seconds they stood looking at each other, motionless, speechless. . . . He broke the silence. In a strange greet ing that spoke of itself. , "How often I remember you so on the threshold!" "I thought It was your step." The - rich color - surged before the invita tion, lent meaning . by his greeting. "Will you come in?" The quiet little sitting room was a caress. He thought he had never found, even in the wilderness, so rest ful a place. "I suppose." he said aloud, when they were seated. "It's part of the mys tery of personality." "-What is?", "This room. It's the homiest I've ever been in." "I'm glad you like It. I've had it for years. I suppose I oughtn't to keep it. because I don't get much good of it except in vacation. But I like to think of it as a place to come back to" "You're on your vacation now?" "Yes. I have a long one this year. I take only Doctor Wolfs cases now. and he is abroad tor the summer." He leaned back in the chair to which she had assigned him and watched her under cover of their inconsequen tial chat. . "Why did you ask me to come here?" -"Because I didn't want you to think " She paused uncertainly. "That you believe all you may have . heard of me lately. Thank you. Kazia. of Jvlarii TruiU "THE HAN HIGHER UP." "HIS RISK TO POWER." Etc . Bobbs-Merrill Company) But I'd have expected you to say that." Her eyes fell again to the sewing. "Kazia." he asked directly, after a moment, "has any one ever connected you with my scandal?" She looked up quickly again. "Why. no. How could they?" . "A mysterious woman has been men tioned. I've been afraid that every one I've had to do with might be smirched with me. I didn't want-you of all women to be touched." "Do you care so much about it all?" "I wouldn't admit It to any one else. But I do care. Kazia." She was silent, but the dark eyes were very gentle. He leaned forward and drew her to him. He kissed her again and again. For a long minute he held heir so, in silence. ... Insidious moment, throw ing open the gate that he might peer into a golden realm such as even this Joseph had never dreamed! "You haven't said It," he broke the silence. - ' "That I love you? Do I need-r- "No." He kissed her again. "Only I can't quite believe it yet. It's worth going through all the trials and dis appointments and ugliness to have this hour." Much later It did not seem long he asked: "Kazia, when will you marry me?" She did not answer for a long while. Then Bhe gently pushed him away and spoke, slowly, as though all her strength were needed- to force out each word. "I can not marry you." "You can not ' ' He' stared at her, stunned. She shook her head, mute. "But why? You are free." "I am free under the law. But I can not." "You love me, and yet " "I can not." "But why?" he persisted. "You must have some reason." Then he aroused himself. "Though you may just as well forget it.' Do you think," he cried, "I've found a real enduring love only to let it gor "I have a reason. I " She broke off, looking away. Her hands clasped tightly in her lapv unclasped, " then went out in a little appealing gesture as her eyes came back to him. "It isn't that I don't want to. I I love you. But oh, can't you understand? How could the love endure the little trials and frictions, the nearness, the commonplaceness of every-day life to gether?" "Ah! I wish you hadn't said that." He was staggered for the moment; to him her reason was not an empty one. But he went on firmly: "That wouldn't be true with us. It's never true where there is a real love to smooth the way. And you and I we mustn't judge by our past, because we've . never found the real love until now." "Yes, It is real. I think it is real." From her wistful voice he thought he had shaken her. He pressed her hard. "Of course, it is. Then, don't you see" "No. if it is real, then I can't I daren't risk losing It. I haven't tad much, ever, except this love I mustn't lose it. And you don't know I'm not fine and clever and cultured, like like the women you've known. You'd see the lacks " She was becoming In coherent. "Oh, don't try to persuade me. You only make it hard. I've been thinking of this and of when you'd come so long! And I know" But he did try to persuade her. And longing lent him eloquence, as he pic tured for her their love, triumphant over the starving years of .separation, triumphing again over the vexatious problem of daily intimacy. Slowly it came to him that she meant her refusal. He released her and drew back, so suddenly that she swayed and almost fell. "Then it only means that you don't love me. If you did, you wouldn't count the risk." "If you must believe that," she an swered Badly, "you "must. But it isn't true. It I could forget the risk. I shouldn't love you as I do." He laughed harshly, and reaching for his hat. turned toward, the door. The dreamed love had gone the way of his beautiful philosophy. But at the door he looked back. She was standing as he had left her. pale, in her eyes both fear and the glow of the flame he had lighted. The hand, held out to him In involuntary ges ture, was trembling visibly. "Why do you go?" "But you said " . "I didn't say I wouldn't love yon." He laughed again. "What la love by itself?" - , "We could," pitifully she put forth the suggestion, "we could be friends." "Friends! I'm no bloodless poet. I want a whole love." Her hungering look was calling him. drawing him across the room to her. It- bade him take her. He took her, wonderingly, dazed by the seeming surrender. In his clasp she seemed to find a new courage. ' "Thes then I will give you ' a whole love if you will take me as I am." "No, no!" he muttered, "Not that. Kazia! I've hurt you enough. Ajd it wouldn't be a whole love. It couldn't be a lasting love. Love can't live ex cept In the light of day." -" "Love, if It is love, is Its own light." "But the risk you fear! It would be greater your way." "This is my risk, not yours." Her arms encircled his neck, drawing his hot cheek down to hers. "And there is no one else. I am alone. No one would be hurt. It wouldn't it couldn't b a bigger love if given in the world's way. And It is all I can have, all I can give. Let me have it until " She ended In a gasp that was almost a sob. - CHAPTER XXL Arcady. He went to sleep that night, fearing the awakening. But as he woke to the summons of the early summer sun shine filling his hotel - room, the dreaded reaction did not come. He could think only -with tenderness of the woman who had yielded to him, the love that did not haggle, with a sort of awe and the query. Could he match It? He arose, and going to the tele phone, called her number. "Is it you?" He heard the eager catch in the low voice. "Who else could it be?" He laughed. "Kazia. if you should happen to in vite me to breakfast " "Oh, will you? Come soon. I I am always waiting fof you." But as he turned away front the telephone, something caught in his throat. "Poor Kazia!" he muttered. "We've cut out a big job for our selves." - He did not have to knock at her door. While he was still mounting the last flight of stairs, it was thrown open and she stood awaiting him in the little entrance hall. When he took her in his close clasp, she put her hand to his forehead and looked searchingly Into his eyes. He was glad that what she saw there con tented her. "Oh, I'm glad," she murmured from his shoulder, "I'm glad you called me up." "Of course I did. How long did you think I could wait to hear your voice again?" "I was afraid you wouldn't. If you hadn't " "But I did." He kissed her. Afterward, when the table had been cleared and the dishes washed he helping with an awkwardness they found very comic he broached his plan. "Kazia, have you ever been in the woods?" "No. But I remember you used to tell -me of the hills you came from. I've always wanted to. see them." "Oh. yes, they're beautiful. But men live there. I meant clear out beyond the edge of things as you know them." So he told her of the wilderness he had visited of calm pellucid rivers that became noble lakes and then rushed madly down narrow rocky chutes; of vast stretches of untouched forest, pathless to all but the wild things and the lonely, hardly less wild trapper; of, its silences and ragings. She listened eagerly. "Let's go there, Kazia." The ' suggestion, left her almost breathless for a moment. "Dare we?" "Why not?" "Why not?" she repeated slowly. "There would be nothing to fear up there, nothing to conceal. We could stay until I have to go back to work." "Longer, if you like it. You needn't think of work." "But I must," she smiled. "I must live and I'm not a very, rich woman." "But I" "Hush!" She laid a silencing hand over his lips. It was easily arranged. He dropped a note to Henley which led the latter On a Jutting Point They Found a De serted Cabin. . , to believe that his counsel had been taken and Mark had gone away to let gossip, run Its course and die. . Kazia had no explanations to make. . - They met in Toronto and there took a train together. They alighted far to the north at a rude little lumber town where the smell of fresh-sawn lumber, mingled with the fragrance of balsam, swept down a long narrow lake. After one night in the home or a lumberjack to whose simple mind it never oc curred to question the status of' his Yankee guests, they started up the lake by canoe with a guide who was to leave them when they had made a permanent camp. From beginning to end their stay la the woods was without cloud or flaw. The narrow lake narrowed still further into a smooth clear river that wound In and out among ever wooded bills. They passed the region where the cruel ax had swung and scarred; the trees became bigger, the forest denser. Here and there they came to a rapids where the canoes had to be lifted and carried. . . . . . Her almost awed perception of each unfolding beauty touched him. On a jutting point they found a deserted little cabin, some . trapper's winter abode. There the journey ended. When the hut had been cleaned out. they dis missed the guide with orders to re turn every three weeks with fresh' supplies. ... Mindful of his resolve, he planned their days carefully, thinking only that they might be perfect for her. The man was swept out of himself, out of his groove of thought, as never before. - His struggles and victories and disappointments receded; they seemed part of another existence. If he thought of them briefly at all, it was but as a price well paid -for his freedom. He did not guess that the habit of thinking minutely for her happiness was slowly ' prying loose other and firmly fixed habits. Two moons waxed and waned. The guide came with supplies, and again a second time. On his third appear ance, the time set for their departure, Mark without consulting Kazia. sent him back. She did not seem to notice the change in plan.' On the day when the guide should have returned again, he did not dome. That evening a storm arose, such as rarely visits even those northern woods. Mark and Kazia were out on the lake for a lazy after-supper paddle, watching the masses of black clouds gather over the hills at the head of the lake. There was a rumble of dis tant thunder. Suddenly, overtaking the mountain ous vapor, appeared a lower plane of clouds, flying before a wind that struck the water and sent a line of white churning down the lake. They were not far out, but though they paddled swiftly, their light craft was tossing like a cork before they reached ehore. They made their landing, dragged the Canoe to safety and fled. to. the cabin juBt as a wall of green and darkness swept down upon them. -v"The fury was soon spent. The storm passed beyond the lake. Still they watched, in one of their long silences. She sighed and stirred, looking up at him. "I wonder " She paused. "Yes?" "Have I hurt you?" "Hurt me?" "By loving you. By coming here." "No," he cried. "How could any one be harmed by a perfect love? And it has been perfect. I can never for get." His heart ached with a deep poign ant tenderness for her. They were silent again. . . . But after a time drowsiness overcame him and he slept. She did not sleep. Until morning she kept her- vigil beside him. Some times she would lean over and touch his outflung hand. . . . When he awoke the sun was well up over the hille. Kazia was standing in the doorway, looking down the lake. She heard him stir and turned. He saw her eyes. "I believe you haven't slept at all!" She did not answer that, but smiled, pointing. "The gude is coming. Let us hurry. It is time for us to go." "No!" He sprang to his feet. "Please," she put out an appealing' hand, "let us not talk of it, but hurry. We must go. I've thought it out, and it is beet." They breakfasted hurriedly and be gan the brief preparations to leave, putting the cabin in order and stow ing into the canoes the little . they would need on the trip down, the river. They were soon ready. They were about to embark when Kazia, without explanation, turned and went back to the cabin. Many min utes passed and she did not reappear. Then Mark followed her. He found her lying prone on the pile of pine boughs that had been their couch, face buried in her arms. Harsh dry sobs shook -her. With a cry he dropped to his knees beside her, gently stroking her hair, trying to soothe her grief. He pleaded with her to stay. . Soon she had regained control. She sat up, facing him. "How can you think of going? Back there we won't find it as it has been here." "We must," she answered. "And now. while it's still perfect. It has been that not a thing to regret. I've crowded into two months happiness enough for a lifetime. If I must pay for it, I am willing. . . . And you have given it to me. Do you think I haven't seen how you've watched over me,' thought only of me, to make it perfect for me? . I can never forget that. And maybe, some day, I shall have the chance to repay you. I pray that I may have the chance." "It is I who will have to repay you. But why leave such happiness? Let us stay here, where love is free and clean and strong." "If we only could! But we must go. Because it wouldn't stay perfect. There are storms even in the wilderness. A time would come you are a man when love 'wouldn't "be enough. You would begin to want other men. Yon would chafe against the loneliness and inaction. We would go gladly then and we could look back on this only as a dream that failed. But now oh, I shall have something to remember! And you will have something to remem ber. ... See! You know I'm right. . . . Come." : . .. CHAPTER XXI L. - The Cleft Stick. In Canada's capital, thinking them selves still safe. Marl; had persuaded Kasla to stay over two days, that they might have one last uninterrupted pe riod together. It was a mistake, an They were at breakfast when, glanc ing up, Mark espied a familiar figure at the doorway of the hotel dining room a figure of courtly and noble mien; moving with slow thoughtful stride and head slightly bent, as though, even amid the commonplace functions of . life, - hie mind never ceased to dwell on momentous phil anthropic projects; and withal mod estly unaware of the whisper that ran over the room or of the many necks craned in his direction. An obsequious captain of waiters led him down the room, and by fateful chance, toward the table where sat Mark and Kazia. Mark regarded him in that fascination which a dangerous object often has for its victim. . Now it may be that the philanthrop ist was not quite so unaware as he seemed of the Interest evoked by his "Can It Bo Of Course' Is Is Trultt." entrance, for a pair of furtively roving eyes alighted upon Mark. He stopped. "Can it be of course, it is Truitt. This is an unexpected pleasure." He extended a genial hand. Mark took it mechanically. "How are you, Mr. Qulnby?" he muttered out of his daze. "I suppose I am well." Jeremiah Qulnby smiled benign an tly. "A busy life leaves little time to consider the state of one's health. You are looking better than I have ever "seen you." "I'm better than I've ever been." There was a pause during which Qulnby glanced tentatively at Kazia. "Ah! Perhaps I am Intruding?" Quinby smiled humorously, as one who knows his welcome anywhere is as sured. Mark brought his whirling thoughts to a etop. "No, certainly not. Mrs. Whiting" He performed an intro duction. Quinby's bow was impres sive. "I see you have Just begun. Per haps " He paused again, sugges tively. - . "You will Join us? Mrs. Whiting. I'm sure " Kazia nodded and smiled com posedly. . "This is kind, indeed. Though I ehould not," Qulnby bowed again to Kazia, "blame Truitt for being selfish." He took the chair held out for him by the waiter, glancing from Mark's sun browned face to Kazia's. "I see you have both been out under the sun. Your party " "' ' "Has just separated. - Mrs. Whiting is to let me rather informally, to be cure convoy her home." "And what of it, since no one is the wiser? The conventions," Quinby wit tily accepted the explanation, "are only for public consumption, though I being in the public eye, so to speak may rarely Ignore them. -So you. too, are from our city, Mrs. Whiting?" Kazia admitted 'iti "Ah! I wish I had known last night that you were here. The governor general " . The phrase rolled linger ingly on his lips. "The governor-general gave a ' reception.. You would have been pleased, I am sure, to see how our city, in my person, was hon ored." ' i "I'm very sure of it. Please tell us about it." Qulnby told them about it, with, a wealth of detail. - But under cover of his monologue Quinby was shrewdly taking stock of his hearers, and their situation; he had not missed that first moment of betraying confusion. Suspicion, guided by instinct, settled into conviction. And the event matched Quinby's need.' For in the very midday of his triumph, when the brilliancy and dar ing of his achievements promised to eclipse - hia better fortified but less original rival in beneficence, a cloud no bigger than a man's hand had crept above the horizon.. And if that cloud grew bigger, not MacGregor but Quinby himself might be eclipsed and, alas! forever. A crisis, then, when "harmony" more than ever was needed in his forces. There are. Qulnby gratefully thought, more ways than j one of insuring harmony. He felt of , his whip and got ready to crack it. During a temporary lull Kazia. pleading some . unfinished packing, made her escape. Quinby's eye fol lowed her admiringly to the door, then bent upon Mark a look in which re proof and a certain ponderous wag gishness struggled for the upper hand. "Ah! Trultt! A sad dog, I fear." "Not at all." said Mark coldly. Qulnby was blandly skeptical. "I find you, brown as an Indian, at break fast alone at a hotel with a woman ! dusky a an Indian maiden. The party was it a party of two. Trultt?" . -Mr. Qulnby.-. t Mark . not coldly, "your tone I My word " ; : "Ah!" Quinby waved a pacific hand.) "If your word is passed, that is enough-, I am happy to believe it. Mrs. Whit ing seems a charming woman. A welli poised woman! . An unusual woman! "Very." . "You leave today?" " -Yes."' , "Then, since I have your word lav the matter, I feel safe in inviting you: and Mrs. Whiting to share my car as far as Buffalo." " "Mrs. Whiting may have a pref erence." Quinby received this with the sur prise of one whose invitations partake of the peremptory quality of royalty's. "I hope she will not prefer a stuffy Pullman to my car, which has been praised. I should be deeply hurt by, a refusal. ' In fact." Mark looked up quickly, as though he had heard a warning crack! overhead. "I should construe a refusal as evidence But' let that go. There are company mat ters I wish to discuss with you, and. this seems an opportune occasion." ' The men regarded each other stead ily for a moment. "I shall present your invitation." Mark concluded. "With my compliments." Quinby amended. "Er Truitt, who is Mrs. Whiting? The name is not familiar." "I'm sure you never heard. of her,. She's a trained nurse a very success ful one, I believe. Ill let you know her answer." They rose and Mark had the en viable distinction of marching with Jeremiah Quinby through the long dining room, where by this time the whisper of the great philanthropist's presence had been happily confirmed. - "Well," said Mark grimly,- when he had found Kazia in their rooms, "you played - audience to good purpose. Quinby has just informed me, with ex clamation points, that you are a charm ing woman, a well poised woman, an unusual woman." She breathed a Bigh of relief. "Then he doesn't suspect?" "He's so sure of the truth that he wouldn't believe bis own testimony to the contrary." "What can we do?" '"xactly nothing but accept Ms In vitation to travel in his car to Buffalo and trust to luck. Flattery and sub misslveness he would call them har mony are the way into Quinby's good graces." . . . . But Qulnby, when the journey had begun, made no reference to that party in the woods. His engaging manners never, said the envious, so pro nounced as in the presence of a pretty woman were displayed in their per fection. Even Mark's fears -were lulled. At first the philanthropist gave him self almost wholly to Kazia. He showed her the splendors of his car, from the little kitchen, . where her expert ad miration brought a grin 'even to the pudgy face of the Japanese cook, unto the plaster cast of the Ichthyosaurus Qulnbyi conspicuously placed at one side pf the library sectfkn. "Truitt tells me, Mrs. Whiting, that you are a nurse. A beautiful calling! A fitting sphere for woman woman, tender minister to suffering!" "And it pays," Kazia smiled, "better than most woman's work." r "But not enough. Have you ever noticed that the most important serv ices are always the poorest paid. I have often wished," Quinby sighed, "that it lay in my power to give every deserving man and woman the Just reward earned by their service." "Ah!" breathed Kazia, "that would be something: to do."' Quinby bent a ' benignant smile on Kazia. "Mrs. Whiting, you must leave mo ctu Buuieao. ju i l uappens. l am a trustee, and it may be, an influence in the Todd hospital. Surely the pro fession of healing offers a woman a larger and a better paid field than mere individual nursing?" "To those who are fitted." "You am mnHnitt nf tt ran TJ .1 T am sure I have not judged you too. generously." He led Kazia to a big cushioned chair at the observation end 1 of the car, had the Jap bring magazines and the. latest novel. - She lay back in the chair, smiling her thanks up to him, as frankly as if she had not a suspected . secret to brazen out. The philanthropist smiled back and the light in his eyes, as they swept the figure beneath them, was not' philanthropy. - His smile became quizzical. He leaned over and patted he hand. "You are a plucky woman, my dear. v I have a short memory sometimes." -, He went back to Mark. "Truitt' he began, "does your re covered health mean that you are go ing back into harness?" "I don't know," Mark - answered shortly. . He had witnessed the tableau just described. - : "You must get back. You are needed. Have you kept track of our labor sit uation?" - , "No." . ' ' Quinby sketched that situation, with a terseness of which Mark had not believed him capable. - (TO BE CONTIXUED.) Pipe Worth Half Million n-n Among the royal treasures of Per sia Is a pipe set with diamonds, ru bies and emeralds, to the value, it is estimated, of no less than $500 000 This pipe was made for the late shah" and it is said to be even more , val uable than his famous sword. In the matter of swords, it is said that the gaekwar of Baroda who, on the occa sion of the coronation of George V in India, added to his fame by snubbing: that monarch, possesses the most pre cious blade la existence. Its hilt and belt are incrusted with diamonds, ru bies, sapphires and emeralds, and its value has been pujt at $1,000,000.