Willmar tribune. [volume], June 14, 1911, Image 3

About Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931

Image provided by: Minnesota Historical Society; Saint Paul, MN

                
I
H*
PROLOGUE
A QUARTER OF A CENTURY BE
FORE.
The Storm Within.
The storm was one of the worst
that had ever burst from the moun
tains and swept across the plains.
The wind came in wild bursts of tre
mendous speed. Even in the lulls,
which were only comparatively such,
It blew perhaps 20 miles an hour The
fierce blasts were laden with fine
snow—frozen spindrift from a white
ocean of cold! Needles of ice sharp
er than their prototypes of steel cut
the bare flesh of those whom evil for
tune kept abroad on such a night,
bringing the blood to the freezing
•kin The onslaught of the scream
ing tempest drove the hapless cattle
mad with pain and terror The thick
&now compelled them to huddle to
gether at last, and shelterless to suf
fer freeze, and die in the pitiless hur
ricane
Just where the foothills lose them
telves in the prairie lay huddled a lit
tle town or camp Every door and win
dow was shut and barricaded against
the searching storm
In one of the poorest and most mis
erable shanties on the outskirts of the
town a woman waited alone A com
mon kerosene lamp stood on a table
before the window, set there as If in
signal.
The house, a mere shack which
•hook and quivered under the tre
mendous assaults of the storm and
might have been blown down if it had
not been buttressed and protected by
heaps of snow yet threatening to over
whelm it, contained but one room In
the corner farthest from the door
stood a tumbled, frowzy bed A rick
ety chest of drawers, a kitchen table, a
rusty cook stove, a few uncertain
chairs of the plainest and cheapest
quality, were all the rest of the fur
niture A few clothes hung from pegs
driven in the boarded wall A saddle
in one corner, a pickax and shovel, a
heavy quirt, and a rifle hanging from
pegs beneath a shelf sufficiently
pointed out the avocations of the
owner
Yet she was a woman who, what
ever her outward circumstances,
showed no poverty of spirit She
raged up and down the room as a
prisoned tiger paces the narrow con
fines of his cage Sometimes she
paused and stopped by the window, to
rest her head beneath her hand on
the sash and peer eagerly, passion
ately, out into the falling snow She
could see nothing, and after having
stared with increased disappointment
and further mutterings of angry
words, she would resume her rest
less backward and forward march
Had there been any spectator when
she assumed that picturesque position
at the window, where the light, how
evei it failed to illuminate the snow,
threw her own face and person in high
relief, the observer would have been
surpiised at the coarse and yet not
unattractive beauty of her face and
figure She was full lipped and deep
bosomed, tall, lithe, strong Her
cheeks were full of color, her hair
black and coarsely crisp and curly
Her hands, which she clasped and un
clasped nervously, were large and
reddened by toil, but they were shape
ly nevertheless But there was neith
er refinement nor goodness in her
face There were great possibilities
of evil which experience could have
detected Hers had been a hard life,
and it had made her a hard woman.
She was perhaps twenty-five years
old, but looked older
For hours the woman had waited In
that hut alone. It had been storming
badlv when she began her vigil, and
the violence of the tempest had In
creased until she feared that no hu
man soul could brave it. That she
very much wanted some one to at
tempt it, that she very keenly, ardent
]y, longed for that, was quite evident
Great is the power of love Even
Its counterfeit—that which passes for
it *n the eyes of the Ignorant and in
experienced—may stir men and wom
en to mighty deeds This woman
waited the arrival of one who fancied
himself a modern Perseus about to re
lease another bound and helpless An
dromeda from a devouring monster
Whether the man who fatuously
filled that role—or the boy, rather, for
he had not reached man's years or
estate—would arrive before her hus
band, was the problem that filled the
woman's mind In view of the bliz
zard raging, she might have wondered
whether, in case either of them
pought the house, they could find it or
reach It alive. If she had stopped to
consider that phase of the possibili
ties, she would have been profoundly
glad had both ventured and had both
wandered on In the night until beaten
down and mastered by the spirit of
the storm, so that the searchers, after
Its violence bad abated, might find
them frozen to death as many another
poor fellow was found frozen there
after For while the woman loathed
and bated her drunken brute of a hus
land, yet she had no affection for the
foolish young tenderfoot who had wan
dered, out west to spend a summer
IN AN AWKWARD POSITION
Fire Brigade Rescues Man From Pei
ilous Situation on a Chim
ney Top.
Around the midnight hour one even
ing recently belated pedestrians hur
rying homewards along a street known
as Old Moabit, in Berlin, Germany,
were arrested In their course by loud
shouts for help that seemed to come
from the skies. They looked up in
curious astonishment, and presently
saw the figure of a man silhoutted
TAL
/uvarmTteit* By £tA*Bcmt/faytu
holiday and had lingered on through
the winter, fascinated by her exuber
ant attractiveness, and flattered by
her bold and artful pursuit of him.
She had thought to amuse herself in
her dreary, wretched, sordid life by
his fresh, frank, open admiration. The
woman's drunken husband had cared
little at first, but lately, under the
jibes, sneers, and innuendos of his
companions, he had become fiercely
Jealous Then in maudlin fury he had
forbidden the boy the house, and had
sworn that he would kill him on
sight
The woman thereupon swiftly made
up her mind to break the thraldom of
her matrimonial bond, and in the
young stranger's company or by his
agency to leave the country. She
neither desired nor Intended to be
tied to the boy a half dozen years
younger than she
Once in civilization it would be
easy to break away from him, she
knew Thereafter she had no fear
but with her beauty, her wit, and her
courage, with her utter unscrupulous
ness, she could make her way In the
east which she had never seen And
this was the night 01 Which they had
agreed to take their departure
Since her husband's wild outbreak
of Jealousy, she had seen the boy only
once. In that surreptitious interview
they had concocted their plans. Her
husband spent the greater part of the
nights, whenever he had any money,
in gambling and drinking at the sa
loon By a lucky chance a short time
before in an all night trial with For
tune he had won something over
$1,000 The bulk of it in hard cash
still reposed in the chest of drawers.
That, with what the boy could con
tribute, would provide for the expenses
of the journey. She had got It out
and tied it up in a little canvas bag.
It lay on the table near the lamp
Fifteen miles south the Union Pa
cific railroad ran across the continent.
It had been her plan to ride thither
and take the first train eastward,
losing themselves in Chicago, and
thence by whatsoever route pleased
them making their way to New York.
Whether her husband would pursue
her or not, she could not tell. He
would be without the money, since
she meant to take all with her. He
would hardly be able to follow her
very soon. But if he did, that was a
risk she must take.
Engrossed in the present, the boy
thought nothing at all about the fu
ture The woman's predicament
bulked so large to his immature imagi
nation that there was nothing else on
the horizon There was no other hori
zon than she, in fact. And his one
desire was to get her away to free
her
And now this storm bade fair to
render the whole plan impossible.
Misunderstanding his temper she fear
ed that the boy would be frightened
by the blizzard. Yet there was more
In the boy than she imagined for
when she had about made up her mind
finally that he would not come, the
doer was thrown open and he stag-
SK
agax__t the moonlit sky at the top of
a factory chimney, 150 feet high. He
continued his cries for assistance, and,
amid the gesticulations, pointed at
some object lying at his feet The
crowd, which rapidly collected, realiz
ed that something untoward had hap
pened, and rang up the fire brigade—
the invariable succor in ail novel
predicaments.
When the firemen succeeded in
making their way to the summit of
the chimney, they found that the man
who had been appealing so pitifully
gered Into the room. The womaa
screamed slightly and stepped toward
the enow-covered, ice-incrusted figure.
The young man forced the door shut,
turned and faced her. He tore off his
fur cap and threw It on the floor. He
stretched out his icy gauntletted
hands toward her. To reach the cabin
he had been compelled to face the
blizzard. His face was white yet
bleeding. The woman shrank back
from him.
"Is this my welcome?** he said in a
voice manly enough in spite of his
youthful aspect
"You're so wet and so cold,*' said
the woman. "The horses?"
"They're outside," returned the
boy. "But you didn't think of ventur
ing in this blizzard? Why, it's like
hell Itself, or would be if hell was
cold!"
"I'd risk anything," said the woman
fiercely, "to get away from him! You
won't fall me now?"
"But, my God, girl!" answered the
boy with that assumption* of superior
age which so satisfied his pride, "we'll
die in this blizzard."
"No," persisted the woman. "See,
the storm comes straight from the
north Our way is due south we've
only to keep it at our backs."
"All right," said the boy cheerily.
Htt turned and stared out of the win
dow "You've no idea how terrible it
is, though."
**I don't care."
"Get ready, then."
"I'm ready," she replied "See!"
She lifted the skirt of her dress and
showed him a pair of horseman's
boots with a pair of her husband's
trousers tucked tightly in them. "It's
a good thing he has a small foot," she
sneered.
"Curse him!" said the boy. "I'd
like to settle with him before we go
"You'll settle with him enough,"
said the woman cynically, "when you
take me away from him."
She turned and took down from
one of the pegs a heavy fur overcoat.
The boy assisted her to put it on.
From a holster hanging on the wall
she drew a small silver-mounted 32
callbered revolver.
"I'm ready," she said again.
"Let us start, then," cried the boy,
stepping forward.
On the instant a whirl of wind dis-
"You Are Going on a Longer Journey Than You Planned," He Panted.
closed to them that the door had sud
denly opened. They turned to face
drunken, infuriated, leering figure.
He had on a short, thick fur jacket,
which left his hips completely un
covered. A heavy revolver had dan
gled in his holster. He dragged it
out as he spoke and trained it on the
boy.
"You're going for a longer journey
than you planned!" he panted thickly,
as he strove to steady the weapon and
cover the other
The boy was fumbling at the fasten
ings of his coat. His own revolver
was not get-at-able Instantly, as it
should have been and would have
been had he been a native to the
west.
"Fumble at 'em, you fool'" cried
the man. "Before you get 'em open,
I'll shoot you dead. I don't do it now,
cause I want you to taste death and
hell as long as possible before you
go Into 'em. You thought you'd make
a fool out of me, did you, and you,
too, you—"
He flung a frightful, mordant word
at his wife which stung not less be
cause it was in large measure unde
served, at least so far as the boy was
concerned.
"I'll settle with you when I get
through with him. Your time's up!"
he continued, as the boy at last suc
ceeded in reaching his weapon
He was game, that boy, although his
face under its blood was whiter than
for help was Indeed in an awkward
fix. With a fellow workman he had
been ordered to remove the weather
cock which crowned the structure,
and had recently shown signs of fail
ing. As the chimney was in use dur
ing the day, they had been obliged
undertake the task late at night aft
er the furnaces had been extinguished
and fuse had had time to cool down
a little. They had reached the top by
a series of steps provided in the In
terior of the structure. But the chim
ney WR3 still hot, and the stifling
It had "been whom he entered the
cabin, while the other man's, similarly
snow wounded, was red with rage
and* though he was covered and even
a drunken man could scarcely miss at
such range, he nevertheless drew his
own weapon. But before he could
raise it there was a sudden movement
back of him. The man in the dopr
way turned sharply.
"What!" he cried to his wife. "You
would, you—M
At that Instant the boy was con
scious of a sudden flash of light and a
sharp detonation. The room was
filled with noise, a little cloud of
smokeblew downon him. Standing with
his own pistol butt clasped tight in his
hand, he saw the man in the doorway
reel. The arm that held his weapon
dropped to his side. With a convul
sive movement he pulled the trigger
The bullet buried Itself in the floor,
while the man sank down on his
knees, swayed a moment, a frightful
look In his eyes, and then pitcbed for
ward on his face and lay still.
"Good God!" whispered the boy
turning to his companion, "you've shot
him!"
He stared at the woman, who still
clasped the llttlw silver-mounted
weapon she had used with such ter
rible effect.
"It was his life, or your life or
mine," was the answer. "I did it for
you," she said quickly, seeing a look
of horror and repulsion spreading over
the face of her companion.
"Yes—yesI I know," he replied
"but—"
"Come, we must get out of hero
immediately."
"Of course, of course," whispered
the boy nervously, "we can't stay here
now."
"Drag him into the room and shut
the door!"
The lad hesitated.
"Are you afraid?** sneered the
woman, making as if to do so herself.
"Certainly not," was the answer
but the boy nevertheless was afraid
afraid of death, with more fear than
he had ever felt for any one living.
Yet something had to be done and at
once.
Forcing himself to the task at last,
he stooped down, seized the man by
the shoulders, turned him over on his
face, and dragged him farther into the
room Then he shut the door. The
two stared a moment at the prostrate
figure
"He's not dead yet," said the boy
slowly.
"No but he soon will be." The
woman stooped over and unbuttoned
the man's coat and waistcoat "There!"
she said, pointing to a ghastly hole.
"I struck him fair in the breast
Would to God it'd been in his black
heart!" she added. "Don't you see
that we must go now and quick?
Come, we can't delay any longer."
"I'll take the blame on myself if
we're caught," said the boy "It was
my fault and you saved my life."
"That's noble of you," returned, the
woman Indifferently "but we won't be
caught."
"Well, then, I'll save your reputa
tion before I go," continued the other
quixotically.
There were a few tattered books on
the shelf. He took one down, tore
out the flyleaf, drew a pencil from
his pocket, scribbled on it a few
words, signed it, held it to the woman
to read, laid the leaf down on the
body of the dying man, and then
turned to the door. He opened it and
the woman followed him out into the
night
The room was very still. Except
for the long, slow, faint, and fainter
breathing of the man, there was not
a sound within the hovel
Death hovered over him the long
night through The morning found
him still alive, yet barely breathing.
He was trembling on the eternal
verge later in the day when men seek*
lng him burst into the room. They
found the letter of confession still
lying where it had been placed. They
revived the man sufficiently by stfnv
ulants to enable him to speak a preg
nant word or two before his lips,
closed forever.
The confession, the bullet that had
killed him, the empty revolver, and
the man's last words, solemnly attest
ed by those present, were carefully
preserved by the leader of them all.
They might be useful some day who
knew? For the rest it was evident
what had happened. The boy and th«
woman were gone from the camp. No
search was made for them none was
possible. The blizzard had spent it
self by that time but the prairie was
covered deep with drifted snow. A
period of intense cold supervened. It
was hardly within human possibility
that the two fugitives could have got
safely away. They must be buried
somewhere to the southward in the
vast drifts. Spring might reveal their
fate, it might remain forever a secret
So far as the denizens of the country
were concerned, the tragedy—one of
the numberless ones of the frontier
was over. In a day or two it was for
gotten.
(TO BE CONTINUED
Slightly Modified.
Little Viola had dleveloped the habit
of holding her thumb in her mouth,
even while eating. Mother had re
sorted to all sorts of methods to
correct the child and finally In despera
tion said:
"Viola, the first thing you know yon
will swallow your thumb, and then
what will you dor
"Well, mother, I should hate toswal
low It because I'd have a heaven of
time without It"
"Why, Viola," said the astonished
mather, "where did you hear an expres
sion like that?"
"Well, veil," hesitated the little girl,
"I didn't hear It exactly like thai
mother, but I thought _ft would
better."
temperature, combined with soot and
dust, was too much for one of them,
and as he emerged on the narrow cop*
lng ho collapsed in an unconiclonl
heap.
XV
It was no easy task even for th«
fire brigade, to rescue the sick man
from his perilous situation. An mv
mense rope was painfully hauled u|
the huge shaft and run round a put
ley attached to the scaffolding thai
supported the weather-cock. T» *&%
rope he was fastened, and hf Ml
means carefully lowered down*
andlhe
A foolish young tenderfoot becomes
fascinated with the bold, artful wife of a
drunken prospector in a western mining
town They prepare to elope in a blind
ing blizzard but are confronted by the
maudlin husband He is shot by the
wife, but the chivalrous boy pnis a note to
ths body taking the crime upon himself
PROLOGUE—Continued.
The Storm Without.
Tho woman's first thought when she
slapped outside the door was that at
all hazards they must go back. The
wind almost swept her away only the
steadying grasp of the boy, better pre
pared than she for the attack of the
utorm, enabled her to keep her feet.
Y^t the presence of that ghastly thing
on ihe floor which was affecting even
her on nerve, prevented their return
Whatever happened they must go on!
The door of that shelter was closed
to them forever by the dead or dying
tenant. She realized however, that
their chances of escaping freezing to
death in this mad endeavor were so
sma^l as to be practically none. Well,
fate had forced her into this position.
She would follow the path she had
chosen, whatever might be at the end
ol the way
Speech was well nigh impossible.
The boy staggered on past the win
dow, and she followed until the lee
of the house was reached. Between
a great drift and the wall, in a little
open space the horses were tied.
The boy was a natural horseman.
He had picked out the best two bron
cos in the camp. If any animals could
take them to safety, these could. Not
yet chilled by the fierce cold, they
untied the shivering, reluctant terri
fied horses from the wooden pins driv
en into the chinks between the log
walls of the house to which they had
been hitched, mounted them, and
threading their way round the drift
started southward on their awful ride.
They left death behind them—and lo!
death loomed before and on either
hand.
Except where tb» storm was broken
by houses, drifts bad not yet formed.
The wind' was too terrific, it swept
the level prairie clean. But away
from the shelter o£ the house they got
the full force of it. Although they
were thickly clad in wool and fur, the
pressure of the storm drove their gar
ments against tJUeir bodies, and soon
filled them with icy cold. There was
no help for it, no relief from it. They
had to bear it They could only bend
their backs to it and keep on, trust
ing to the endurance of their horses.
The woman judged that it had been
about one in the morning when they
had started. The Overland .Limited
ran through the station at three. No
horses that lived could have made
that 15 miles in two hours under those
conditions. It was more than prob
able, however, that the limited would
be greatly delayed by the storm, and
if they kept going steadily they would
be likely to catch it At any rate,
when they reached the station, they
would find food, fire and shelter.
If their horses did not give out if
they were not turned adrift on foot
'She Is Gone, Then?" Gasped the Boy.
WITH
SYNOPSIS.
SOME INCIDENTAL
VREIMlONTblilE WOMAN
CvJtusTbwnSEND
Great Failing of Genius
Journal Reveals Unavailing Effort of
Edwin Forrest to Overcome
Bursts of Passion.
Some allowances must be made, it
seems, for the fits of temper to which
geniuses of the stage—and elsewhere
—give way. Edwin Forrest was seri
ously afflicted with temper, much to
his remorse when his passion bad
spent Hi force. In his journal, which
BRADY
/uusr/MTtONS By DEARBORNA/ELvtLL
emmotr iaoa sr/mvxr ago OMPMW
in the storm and snow, and left to plod
on until they fell and slept, and froze,
and died, they would perhaps get
away.
More experienced than the boy, all
these possibilities were present to her.
She did not pray, she could ask noth
ing of God but she went warily and
carefully, helping the horse where she
could.
As for her companion, he did not
give these matters very much consid
eration. He kept going toward the
south to the railroad station because
that was the only thing to be done.
Another, however, rode with him, if
not with her. Before his eyes was
ever present that gory, grizzly spec
tacle of a human form, the red blood
welling from its breast, redder still
from the white snow with which he
was surrounded. That awful figure
beckoned him on. He was younger,
finer, better, than she He was more
fool than knave, she was all knave
Her thoughts went forward to what
was before her but his went back
ward to what was behind
After a long time it seemed to them
that the fierceness of the storm was
somewhat abated. The wind was cer
tainly falling but the drifts were
steadily rising, and their progress
was more difficult every moment for
that cause. Their very souls were
numb with the awful cold. Still they
went forward, slower now, and more
slowly ever.
How far they had come, what time
it was, where they were, neither he
nor she could tell. It seemed to them
both that they had been hours on the
way. The woman was sure that they
must have compassed the greater part
of the journey, when her horse sud
denly stumbled and fell. Her bron
cho's matchless endurance had at last
been exhausted by the terrible strug
gle of their journey. He lay dying
where he fell, and nothing she could
do could get him up again. The boy
had stopped, of course, when her horse
had fallen. He had dismounted and
helped her to rise. He had assisted
her vain efforts to get her own played
out horse on its feet The two now
stood staring at each other in dismay.
"You must take my horse," said the
boy at last.
The woman nodded. With his as
sistance she climbed slowly and pain
fully into the saddle, took the reins
from the boy, and started on. Her
companion caught hold of the stirrup
leather and staggered forward by her
side. The going was now infinitely
harder for the remaining horse. The
woman immediately realized that with
this almost dead weight plunging
through the deep drifts and dragging
heavily at the stirrup leather, the
remaining bronco would soon be ex
hausted.
She had meant to play fair with
him but it could not be. And so for
a long time the trio plodded on In this
way, the woman nerving herself to a
frightful action as best she could. She
hesitated to do it. She was reluc
tant—
But no horse that ever lived could
stand such a strain. She knew that It
would be a matter of minutes now
he kept with regularity, he once
wrote:
"I despair of obtaining that mastery
over myself which I owe to myself, to
my children and to society. It is no
excuse nor plea that I suffer so keenly
as I do from regre.t and shame at my
own intemperance. I feel the folly,
the madness, the provoking extrava
gance of my behavior, treating men
like slaves and assuming a power over
when the animal she rede on would
also fall, and He when he had fallen
like his dead brother back on the
trail, and then she and the boy would
inevitably perish.
Well, it was his life or hers! The
decision was forced upon her. And
perhaps after* all it was just as well
to get rid of them both and have done
with it She reached over, and be
fore the boy realized what was hap
pening she caught his hand, tore his
fingers from the saddle strap, and
thrust him violently backward. Un
prepared, unsuspecting, half-dazed, he
could offer no adequate resistance. He
reeled and fell supine in a deep and
overwhelming drift. She struck the
horse heavily with the whip that hung
from the saddle bow, and the animal
plunged forward wildly. She knew
that she was safe unless he should
try to shoot her for he was too weak
and too exhausted to catch her.
The boy's senses were quickened In
to instant action by her conduct Aft
er the first moment of surprise, he
knew at once that she was deliberate
ly abandoning him to die in the snow.
A hot rush of blood, in spite of the
cold, swept over him. He thrust his
hand within his coat and dragged out
a weapon. He raised it and trained
it on the woman's back, and for the
moment his hand did not tremble.
Then there rose before him that other
gory figure. Though he had lived
some months on the wild frontier and
had seen more than one man killed
there, he had never been connected
with the murder before, even as an
accessory after the fact, and the hor
ror of it was still upon him. He low
ered the pistol, though he could easily
have shot her dead.
Such treachery on the part of a
woman would have killed some men
not so this boy. In that moment he
became a man. He saw himself a
fool he determined that he would not
also see himself a coward. Clenching
his fists and summoning his strength,
he followed southward afoot in the
woman's wake.
He walked—If that be the word for
his progress—with his bead down and
his body bent lower and lower. He
took long rests between the steps. By
and by he fell forward on his face.
The sensation of delicious rest and
drowsiness that swept over him wooed
him to lie still and die but there were
still sparks and remnants of manhood
and courage in him. He shook off his
desire to sleep at last and strove fran
tically to rise. Finding that he could
not, he crawled forward on his hands
and knees, slowly working himself
over the snow covered ground, round
the drifts like a great animal.
There was no use. Humanity could
not stand the strain any longer. One
more movement he made, and just as
he was about to sink down forever he
heard a long, deep hollow, mournful
sound He stopped, Interested, dimly
wondering what it could be.
Whatever it was, it meant life of
some kind. It came from directly
in front of him. It nerved him to fur
ther effort. Summoning the last ves
tige of his strength, he advanced a
little farther.
He knew what it was now. It was
a locomotive.
He lifted his head and saw lights
faintly He divined that it was the
station, the train, the Overland Lim
ited' She would get on it and go
away' What mattered It?
And what of himself? There was
help, there was life! He actually rose
to his feet and wavered on. By hap*
py chance the contour of the ground
had caused the space between him
and the lights to be swept compara
tively bare of snow. It was not now
difficult walking, yet he staggered like
a drunken man.
Ah' the lights were moving before
his eyes, they danced and flickered.
The train was going! He broke into
a reeling run, hoarse whispers on his
frozen lips. Too late!
He stumbled and fell across the car
tracks, dimly conscious of the lights,
of the departing train. He had just
sense enough and strength enough
to cry out as he did so. Some one on
the station platform heard his voice.
Men came toward him he was lifted
up and carried into a warm room.
Something burning yet deliciously re
viving was poured down his throat
"The woman!" he gasped out, look
ing up in the faces of the station
agent and his helper bending over
him
N
"She took the limited not five min
utes ago," said the man staring at him
curiously "The train was two hours
and a half late or she'd never have
got it."
"She's gone then?" gasped the boy.
"Yes
"Thank God she got away!" he mur
mured as he lapsed into complete un
consciousness.
There was good stuff in the boy.
He was glad the woman had escaped
in spite of all. He did not want an
other human being's life on his hands.
CHAPTER I.
The Loneliness of Mr. Gormly.
To his great surprise, George Gorm
ly sometimes found himself feeling
lonely, and the oftener so as he grew
older. Every man who has a natural
liking for women,—and what true man
has not*—yet who has no intimate
friendships with or relations to the
other sex, is likely to find himself in
that state of mind sooner or later.
Gormly was sufficiently aged he was
forty-four although he looked much
younger. He was sufficiently expe
rienced he had dealt with women for
a straight quarter of a century al
though he had neither loved nor mar
ried one. He was sufficiently self re
liant he had built up by his own un
aided efforts the greatest retail mer
chandise business of his day and
them which is most unjustifiable and
dangerous, and yet contrition and
stinging reflection seem to have no
power in the punishment they inflict
or of producing amendment I do not
wish to harbor one ungrateful thought,
for though my public life is far, far
from happy, my domestic happiness is
more than an equipoise to its annoy
ances and yet I cannot think of my
education and the ills derived from
the counsel and example afforded me,
without heartfelt repinings. To God
Almighty I lift my prayer that I may
eratton.^_§fw sufficiently Inrtui—•
ent—for he had done It alone—to havo
been above the" ordinary feeling of
loneliness. Nevertheless, he was tem
peramentally lonesome, and at this
particular moment desperately so.
He had drifted Into New York some
25 years before, utterly unheralded,
unnoticed. He had begun by filling a
small clerkship in a little dry goods
store. He kept at it until he owned
the store, and after that a larger store
on a better street He had developed
a genius for trade, and an executive
ability In accord, until the original
little Shop bad expanded into* a 15
story building covering a block on the
principal thoroughfare of New York
city, and its owner had become a pow
er in finance,—a merchant prince.
Such was George Gormly.
He was, too, a scrupulously honest
man. He sold good goods, without
deceit Things were as he represent
ed them. He established principles of
accommodation in his dealings that
were unique when they were first in
stituted In New York. He made no
dishonest dollars. His money was
good everywhere because it was un
tainted. He prospered exceedingly,
one expansion following another.
Eschewing speculation of any kind
and devoting himself strictly to the
business, he found himself in middle
life the head, the foot, the sole owner,
of the greatest enterprise of the kind
that the world had ever seen.
It had come about in a commoav
place way enough. Miss Haldane/
deeply interested In social settlem*
work and being brought in contact'
thereby with some of the poorer envf__,
ployees of the great Gormly establish-^
ment, had concluded to call on/tho,
proprietor thereof to see if she could?
not induce him to make some ade
quate contribution to the work she
had so much at heart. Like every/ ,. ..
other business man in New York,^lNe%p?
Gormly was overwhelmed by charf^lP gtf
table demands. His business was one
thing his charity another. He em
ployed a special secretary to look afeb--^^ jjPH.
er the eleemosynary end of his af-j||i§- Iff- U.
fairs.
There were two reasons why the%|p 3§4^f
secretary felt himself unequal to a fjjljkw
with Miss Haldane and her demands.Jgy* %S?,§
The first reason was Miss Haldane WglFMM "t/Pm^
herself. She was a member of z*
oldest and most exclusive circle iiMK ^^Si^^S
Uew York society. Her family vaw
one of the richest and most esteemed lit S
in that hive of multi-millionarles*
would-be-sos, also-rans, and
pie. The second was the,
of Miss Haldane's demand!
ed something, like a million
This amount appalled theM
She realized chat a man l«k
indeed most men if they had
er. would much rather give a mill]
than a dime to an undertaking tl
appealed to them. Still, Gormly,
ing devoted his attention so exclusi
ly to his business heretofore, v,
rather staggered by the magnitude
the amount. He would have
more staggered by it had he been less^V.
so by Miss Haldane herself.
Miss Haldane had beauty. Thou
sands of people—women, that is, ana"""*
some few men—have that. She had
more she had presence and person
ality. Hundreds of~ men, and somefe
few women, have these.
Those who have all three in either*
sex are rare and come to view infra
quently. Whether it was Mist Hal-'
dane's undoubted beauty, or Miss Hal|
dane's exquisite breeding and
ner, or Miss Haldane's force of char
acter and determination, that most Im
pressed him, or whether his instant!
subjugation was due to the influence!
of all three, Gormly could not telL
He was given to self-analysis, as
lonely people usually are. By analyz
ing himself he learned to analyze oth|
ers. Introspection and observation hadt
been great factors in his success Here'
again his experience was at fault for
Miss Haldane defied analysis, as the'
breath of summer compounded of
thousand balmy scents cannot be re
solved into its elements, save by
hard scientist who is insensible to its
fragrance.
(TO BE CONTINUED
The Wonders About Us.
Let not care and humdrum deaden
us to the wonders and mysteries amid
which we live, nor to the splendors]
and glories. We need not translate!
ourselves In Imagination to some otb
er sphere or state of being to find the
marvelous, the divine, the transcend^
ent we need not postpone our dayf
of wonder and appreciation to somelSC
future time and condition. The trust
inwardness of this gross visible worldjf:
hanging like an apple on the boughTfJ^JfT'f.
of the great cosmic tree, and swelling 0
with all the juices and potencies ofcg
life, transcends anything we bav»^-'!i^
dreamed of superterrestrlal abodes.—
John Burroughs.
«*!3r
4b£«- 3T
——____________ 5 *•£.§ --,*•'' *°*7
Friend Indeed. ^\1M S
Harker—I hear your friend Mark-4*42*-'^V
ley was married last night?
Parker—Yes.
Harker—L,suppose, you witnessed
the
be able to subdue this hateful and de
grading vice of temper, so that I mar
help my children In the first bestj
worldly endeavor of governing their
own words."^"^ &"'
Placing the Blame.
"How., did she come to marry thP
duke?"1*
"It was all her father's fault."f|i
"Why, I thought he ^opposed »•£,
match?" %x
"He did, buthe~ Js|[ e3sgu8tiE«V'
wealthy, Isnt h»r
-s*Ht^"^
f1K-
TO*
-i^S
4*
This had not been achieved lightly.
He had brought it about because, with
absolute singleness of heart, he had
put every ounce of strength and time!
and talent, which in him amounted to*
genius, at the service of his (affairs
Time, talent, and genius do not always,
produce such results fortune si
must be considered in the game. Op
portunity had favored Gormly. He
had succeeded in everything beyondf
his own or anyone's wildest dreams.
He might have gone on indefinitely^
in his mercantile operations witbi
attracting special attention to hlmselfl
personally, had it not been for oi
fact That momentous happening
his meeting with Miss Haldane.
fc It
&-~M
5
J^J
&
\j$i
1
Parker-Not iff doWbe_eve a?
gloatlna over a friend's misfortune.
?_*-
3r- a