Arizona weekly enterprise., 1890-10-04

Look, l have made this one over so many times that there is scarcely anything left to hold the threads together"
 'Yes, :" replied Armand, gazing at the poor little threadbare gown, ''I know --I know"
 ''And you must have some new clothes too, my dear. And new dress fol Georget. Why, we will spend at least fifteen hundred francs"
 "Fifteen hundred francs," repeated Armand, thoughtfully.
 "Yes. It is large snm for us to spend now, dear. But your novel will bring US at least three thousand and to think that it will be finished in twenty days" ''In twenty days said Armand, re- beating the words in mechanical man ner.
 "Ah, how happy we will be, :" said the little woman, her eyes sparkling at the prospect of the good fortune which she beheid in prospect; we can pass the summer at the seaside. Ge0rget shall have pretty red cap and we will enjoy ourselves as we did four years ago, when we were rich. Do you remember how we used to go grabbing and that big fe- rocious crab that frightened me so? It all comes back to me again, and with 1t ali the other pleasures l owe to you. Kiss me, my dear" and the affectionate wife threw her arms about the neck of her husband, who embraced her tenderly
 But, said Claudine, when she had disentangled herself from Armand's arms, it is o'clock already I must put baby to bed and see that the house Is safely locked. But first let me see you to your table"
 And taking the lamp Claudine pre- ceied her husband into his little studio adjoining their bedchamber.
 'There," she said, drawing near for 8 2acing kiss, until we meet again. Work quickly. Think that cur happi, Vess depends on those pages"
 Oaudine went out. Armand seized ais pen, but in spite of his efforts he found it impossible to write a single line Other thoughts, which refused to be oanishcd, occupied his mind. Leaning his head on his han1, anI staring va eantly into space, he remained in ons position during two long hours. He was thinking.
 < light tap sounded on the door.
 Armand, said soft voice, T an going to bed Baby ia asleep, and have locked everything up safe and su-e- Do lot work too late--you must not tire yourself, dear"
 The words recalled him from his rev ,rie, He cast his eyes on the paper be- lore him; it Was blank.
 Come, " he muttered, T must get to york" and seizing pen he wrote with :everish haste, filling five or six pages without raising his head. Suddenly he stopped. He had just written these words placed by him in the mouth of one of the characters in his novel And if you are seeking a duel you shall nave one"
 A duel!" he cried; ''why I am going 10 fight one myself"
 And a vision of the morrow flashed before his eyes He saw the clearing, | he group of seconds, two men dressed n black facing each other and their Dis tols pointed toward the grass, waiting for the signal, while the sunbeams fl tered through the trees and the birds on the branches chanted joyously- | Suddenly the picture changed.
 A man, pale and with closed eyes, lay ltretched on litter, while one Of the carriers stood knocking at door. The door was his ownl And the woman who ran to meet the funeral cortege-the trembling creature who, with a terrible cry, threw herself on the corpse-he Tee ognized, too It was Claudine
 Armand rose hastily and paced rapid y up and down the room. It was true On the morrow he was 10 fight. Or the morrow, pistol in hand, he would be risking his own life to take another's
 His life! Great God, did it belong tC him? Had he the right to dispose of it Did he not owe it, as much as money, tC those who depended upon him? Werl he dead, what would be the fate of hi. wife and children, thrown helpless or the mercies of his terrible creditors? H; shad no money. There was not a hun dred francs in the house. His sole for tune was in hispen, his talent, his brain Where would they be tomorrow?
 And his little wife, so fragile, so deli rate, what was in store for her? Tn, hospital? And after that? And his chil lren-G -Georget, so bright, so happy, s, intelligent; his little girl, his merry fair7 what would become of them?
 Fougeret continued to pace nervousl7 np and down the floor. The veins in hi to,,,,,Iae +b-ohIaJ ,,,4;1 +I,.-v eo,,,,o1 1,, the point of bursting He moistened hi handkerchief and wound it about hi head. The cold water helped to cool hi burning brain. Now he saw it all clear er. He had exaggerated the situation; duel was not necessarily fatal Had h not already fought three of them, ant was he not alive on the eve of the fourth Yes; but then he was alone in the world His life was his own; he had the right t dispose of 1t as he pleased. He had give no portion of his life to wife; no chi lren to leave behind, fatherless, penni less and helpless. And as these thought again began to surge through his achin brain he fancied he could see the shinin barrel of pistol, with the little, round dark hole aimed directly between hi eyes.
 He tried in vain to change the curren of his thoughts. They refused to vanish He was responsible for the care of thos he loved They lived by him, and the would perish without him. The bal that struck him would take more tha sne life. There would be three othe victims-three to whom he owed love happiness and bread. Good God, ho7 terrible it all was
 But another idea, equally as horribl' crossed his mind.
 His honorl
 He knew his comrades and the incre5 ulous flaneurs of the boulevard. H heard their comments and their pitilei raillery. What word were they prC nouncing? "A cowardr' No. it W; impossible. He surely would find som one of his companions who would d. fend him, Men are good at heart; son