Sturgis advertiser. (Sturgis, Dakota [S.D.]) 1887-1???, 1888-12-20

and she was ambitions. As she grew
older she decided TINT Jack Wheeler
would always be a nobody. and
though he might be very nice land she
confessed to herself that she liked him
a littte), he must not become necessary
to her. So when Jack told his love, he
met with refusal, meant to be kind,
but which Jack felt to be bitterly cruel
in its condescending tone. For Jack,
though he had not all the genius, had
much of the sensitiveness, of the past.
He would not have admitted to himself
that he felt sure of Nellie's love for him.
but in his heart it was SO; and the dis
appointment was terrible to bear. 1t
he had realized that for year or two
she had been flirting with him shame
lessly with. full intention OF liltmg
him; if he had known the unworthy
motive which prompted her, his anguish
might have been tempered by just in
dignation and contempt. But love Is
blind. He did not despise her. He
VIC rshiped her still, and was content
to worship from afar, little knowing
how unworthy she was OF such adora-
ton. He went from her stunned and
dazed. In that brief time since he en-
tered her home the face of nature was
changed, and the world grown darker
and dreary. The myriad voices of birds
singing in the woods sounded harsh in
his ears; the golden rod that nodded so
gayly by the roadside seemed to him
the hooking reckoning Of the gold he
locked. He returned to his old occu-
pations, but the light was gone out OF
his life. Nellie Aver was, soon after
this, sent away to a great musical con-
servatory at B to perfect herself IN
music, for which she had developed
some talent.
A year has passed away since Jack
met with his great disappointment.
Does Time healall wounds? No! There
are wounds of the heart that defy his
most restorative balsams. Can eternity
heal them? We know not. We know
that Jacks wounds are not healed. His
heart still bleeds in secret, and his pain
is lust as poignant as on that first day of
his doom; nay, it is increasing in It's
power over him; it is driving him mad.
He has conceived plan that, If carried
out, can bring him little consolation,
and can do him no good. In pursuit OF
this plan, on the 22d of August, 1885,
Jack left his home for B, and, hay
ing arrived there, he secured lodging
near the place where the Conservatory
reared its seven stories of red brick. He
used the utmost care to prevent her
ever seeing him; why, he scarcely knew,
except that he had a vague thought
that the knowledge of his presence
might pain her. At night, however, he
haunted the vicinity of the great build
ing, and gazed up through the trees
at the glimmer Of the lights in the win
dows. Which was hers? What was she
thinking Of? Had he any place in her
thought? Once, while he was thus en-
gagged, form came to one of the win
dows Of the fifth story and stood re-
vealed in outline against the light. He
knew her in an instant. He could not
be mistaken in that figure, that pose,
that graceful, daintily-poised head,
though he could not see ineament OF
her features. Now, then, he had found
her! She disappears in moment, but
he stands as in trance, gazing at the
window long after her light is out. A
policeman bids him "moye on" but he
knows her window now and can return
and return he does. Night after night
he spends in the shadow OF the trees,
watching the light of that particular
window as if it were the star of his
destiny. A change is coming over him.
Now, that he has seen her, he is growing
less and less satisfied with looking at
her window. If he could speak to her
again Not in any ordinary way; not
by a call, OF a seemingly accidental
meeting in walk He is not disposed
to defer to the conventionalities. These
nights of watching, with the terrible
strain to which he has been subjected
for year. have unbalanced his mind.
He thinks that he must see her alone.
Before, she was influenced by others
now. she may relent. The idea takes
possession of him, and grows upon him.
He has noticed that her light burns
later than the others. He must see her
there! That light seems to shine softly
down upon him, and he will see her in
its kindly beams Perhaps then she, too,
will be kind to him. The thought never
leaves him. He reasons enough to know
that he cannot put it into effect imme-
diately-that he must find some way tc
reach the room unobserved- he
must be cunning about it if he would
see her alone. On the following day he
gains admission to the building OH some
pretext, taking care first to disguise him
self so.that he may not be recognized
bv Nellie. He makes friends with the
ianitor, and finds out all he can Of the
stairways, the elevator shafts, and the
arrangement of the rooms. He is per-
mitted to descend to the basement to
see the furnace, and when he is sure he
| is unobserved he carefully unfastens one
of the heavy windows which looks as il
it hadn't been opened for years. Now
he is ready and has only to wait fol
night to come. 1t does not occur to him
that the Waterman will be on hand
and that he will probably be shot for
| burglar; he thinks of nothing now but o.
her. And yet, with a strange incon
sistency, when he sallies forth at nigh
for his undertaking he is prepared fol
flight if discovered-he carries on hi
arm coil of rope from one of his i'll
fated fire-escapes. Perhaps he has
vague idea that she may wish to escape
| with him. He has not been at his ac
customed post that evening, and wher
he comes down upon the street late a
night he is greatly surprised at the nois.