Waterbury evening Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1887-1895, 1891-01-29
HELEN LAKEMAN:
The Story of a Young Girls Strug-
gle With Adversely.

and Warren goes out. Goes to his
hotel in no very amiablc frame of mind
People sometimes cover do" Il thing,
as Western folks say. In this case the
enemies of Helen Lakeman and Warren
Stuart, in their earnest zeal, had car
ried their point little too far. Halle
Arnold was triumphant at having
exposed that bold-faced hired girl to the
world. Never did Il game cock crow
over a vanquiShcd enemy more than she
did at the girls fall.
II guess this IL learn Warren Stuart q
lesson" She, said to herself. "Hen
know hereafter how to slight respect
able girls for pot Singer"
She longri to tell Warren herself.
But Halle had too much sense to write
to him. He should hear it all, but not
through her She would find an en-
missary to do her work for her. After
taking several in her mind and drop
ping them. she finally fixed on Bill
| Jones wife. the keeper of the poor
house. Sallir Jones was acquainted
with Warren, could write ga tolrrable
hand" and was the very person to
break the news. Instead of waiting
for Warren to return home, or hear the
story from some one else. she got Sal
Jones to write to him.
The next morning, after Warren's
last visit to the agent, he received
letter addressed in II strange scrawlinT
hand. 1t was mailed at Newton, and,
puzzled to know who it was from, he
broke it open. He read it about half
through. and sank into Il chair grooming,
while the letter dropped at his feet. He
was alone in his room. After a few
moment she again seized the letter and,
read it through. 1t was rs follows:
"NEwToN, May -, is.
| Mister Warren Stuart, rcCkin you will be
surprised to git Il lcttur from me- but have not
| fursOt you i thOt would rite an tell you the
| muse yur folks is we'll Halle Arnold is still the
| bell. 2ur3 town fcllcrs are n most ded fur her
| but we know she don't want EN-. that hired girl
of yur mann turned ont bad. She got SO bad
| yur folks had to drive her on an then she went
| Unite with n strange Teller to Mistur Arnold's
| an stole som money an juelry. now they h"v got
her in jVle, an the little boy we are kecpn no
moar at present. Hop you will be home sumo.
| Ciurd bi Yur friend, SALLY JONES.
Warren arose, crushing the badly
written, badly spelled cpstle in his
hands. Illitcratc rs the letter was,
there was depth of shrewdness in it
which he knew did not belong to Sally
Jones. He paced the floor Il moment,
and then his resolution was formed.
Noble fcllow-thr darts of SANDER found
no vulnerable point in his armor of
faith in the poor girls innocence. The
long silence, the fact that he received
no letters. this unnecessary journey,
convinced him that there was a deep
conspiracy He seized his hat and
valisc, paid his hotel bill, which left
him with fifty-tivc cents in his pocket.
He walked down the street to Il shop,
where three brass balls indicated the
business carried on within there he
pawned his gold watch for twenty dol
lars, and hurried away to the depot.
He bought II ticket to Stratton, which
was only forty miles from Newton.
At Stratton he must change ears, but
he was assured that the connection was
close. Filled with anxiety, and har-
raised by doubts and Gears, Warren
Travelled all day and all the following
night. He did not take sleeping
coach, because his limited means would
not allow this luxury. Occasionally he
dozcd us the train Numbered along over
rolling prairirS. forest gladcs and down
j. the beautiful valleys. The moon was
riding high in the heavens, and the
stars twinklcd upon the earth. He
wondered ii there could be any truth in
"Sal's" letter. Ag&in and again he
asked himself How is this all to end
will be enabled to save her from dis
Z gracc?'
b At sunrise the next morning the
= train arrived ut Stratton. Our hero
q got off and asked the first man he saw
). how soon the first train to Newton
J. would come in.
e 1t is six hours late, sir, and will not
be here before twelve or one o'clock,
the junction agent answered.
Although half wild with delay, our
hero could do nothing but wait. AS he
was going into the dining hall he ran
against Pete, the ppddlrr.
"Hello, Warren, yc're just here in 9
nick o timr," said Pete. did ye hcal
about yer gal?'
ga -