Martinsburg herald. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1881-1920, 1891-03-07
THE R00M.MATES.
BY JOHN B. RAYMOND.

AANoiNJ ohu JOuU ASHTON ndtt
roomed together for six months, but had
never exchanged word, There was no
quarrel between themi they were not
deaf mutesi they were normal, everyday
young men, and one, at least, lonqed
ardentlS to hear the others voice.
1t came about in this way: Hadley was
a reporter on the Nelcs- Herald, where he
had filled certain round of dry as dust
assignments for years and was not much
liked by his associates. He had tend
ency to drudge; he wore faint 'smutton
chop" side whiskers and turned up the
bottoms of his trousers when it rained.
But he was really a capital fellow, and in
spite OF his prosiac exterior he had a
little romance of his own. He was en-.
gagged to be married, and Alice Tvlet
was girl of whom any one might well
be proud, She was the niece of friend
of Hadlegs, and when he proposed to
her, after long, despairing courtship;
he was astounded to find himself &C.
eepted. 1t seemed incl edible that such
Aperfeet creature could ever be his own,
but after he had somewhat recovered
from his transports his practical nature
asserted itself, and he began to retrench
his expenses in preparation for the event.
Thus it was that he eventually answered
An advertisement for roommate.
! 1t so happened that the other occupant
Of the room was also reporter, although
very different stamp of man, John
Ashton was meteoric genius. He was
a waif from dead and gone Bohemia.
His forte was the strange, the odd, and
the grotesque, and his startling and I'M
looked-for strokes had gene far toward
making the Chronicle famous. In his field
he was invaluable, and he had long since
killed his chance for promotion by merit
ing it too much.
The NerS-Hcyatd, as everybody knows,
is published in the afternoon, while the
Chronicle is morning daily, and Had.
ley, who had made his arrangements
through the landlady was disappointed,
when he awo&e early on the first day in
his new quarters, to find that his room.
/ mate, who had let himself in sometime
during the night, was then asleep in the
little alcove opposite his own. He had
promised himself much pleasure from
t the society Of man whose work he so
much admired, but the pale, handsome
face and slight form, relaxed in the lam
guor of ceep sleep, prompted him to
dress as quietly as possible and slip out
without awakening the other.
1t turned out, to Hadley's infinite
chagrin, and probably to Ashton secret
amusement, that this was no mere acc.
dent. The former went to work early
in the morning and his duties ended
when the big presses threw out the first
/ copy of the last edition, at about dusk.
Ashton, on the other hand, arose a little
after noon, lounged about until dark and
left his desk any time between one and
three o'clock at night. Consequently,
! when he reached the room he invariably
found Hadley asleep, and when he awoke
he was the only occupant. And vice
( versa. Several things cOnspired to main
tain this fantastic relationship. Their
offices were remote from one another.
Their work was essentially different. 1t
/ did not make common resorts or mutual
friends. So it easily CHANGED that by
day they never met.
Such was the curious train of events
which had carried them through one
summer and into an autumn that brought
/ to Hadley many a miserable beartache.
/ A shadow had somehow fallen across the
honest fellows love affair. 1t was hard
] ly to be defined in terms; that was the
worst of tit was so intangible; so diff
ficult to say just what was wrong. There
/ was change in Alice. She was silent :;
she was dlstraught; her tears came and
went ike April rain. Yet she protested
that nothing was amiss, and met his
well-mGant questioning with an impa-
thence that surprised and frightened him :;
for he did not know very much of wo-
men. and her reservations sounded to
his ears like confessions in disguise.
Above all, he felt cumbersome unit
ness to cope with the situation. 1t was
like pIowboy essaying to probe a SEN
sitiye wound, and at length be feared to
speak lest he should precipitate some I'M
knswn crisis.
E'hus it was, when at dusk one autumn
deg he walked from the office to Alice's
homo to pay one of his customary visits.
II was an indolent evening, suave with
the spell of Indian summer, and through
tae dreamy haze that wrapped the city
even the hum of traffic sounded faint and
harmonious, like choir of giant insects
Ut toe approach of night. He fell into
YSgle reverie as he walked on, and when
be stopped mechanically before the house
as did not ring at once, but sat down
upon little bench just within the gate
sud masked by lilac bushes.
The narcotic calm of the scene and
hour had lulled him into serenity, and
night fell unmarked, until, at length,
familiar voice broke in upon his medita-
lions He recognized it on the instant
Us Alice's, but it was mingled with
deeper tones that were unfamiliar to him.
Although no words had yet detached
themselves from the tangle of sound, if
seemed to him that one voice was urging
and one demonstrating. Presently they
came nearer and stopped by the gate.
"Oh, I cannotl cannotm some one
criet. 1t was Alice's voice, and although
there was not jot of the spy in Hadley's
nature, something in the information held
him spell-bound.
"But why not7' said the other voice,
a melodious baritone-low, persuasive,
thr,i1ne. Lat why not2 twas con-
ditioaal promise; the conditions nave
changed and that is
mo; it is not that" broke in the
girl. She was speaking quietly, hut a
pathethic little quaver ran through her
words. sob, can't you understand He
is honest and true, and could not break
his heart.'
A moisture sprang on HadleY's fore
head and very slowly he opened aud
closed his hands. There was pause, and
then the pleasant baritone again:
"Are there no rivers in Damascusf