The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1893-11-10
A LOVERS RACE.

The caretaker at II W%eStphalia ter
race leaned on the broom which she had
brought up to help her to answer the
door and looked at me with d~isfavor.
"Do you think the landlord knows"
No answer.
I took out half a crown.
"Look here?" 1 said, this coin shall
be yours if you'll tell me how long
you've been here, who the landlord is,
and anything you may have heard from
the tradespeople about the family"
81 never gossip with tradesfolk nor
nobody" was her ~inspiriting reply, but
she gave me the address of a firm in
Gray's Inn and shut the door with all
possible speed. leaving me on the dusty
doorstep.
Imagine the situation. A young man
goes away to Switzerland to the bedside
Of q dying uncle and ZONES back on the
wings Of the wind to lay his newly ac-
quired fortune at the feet of the dearest
girl in the world and finds her gone
hopelessly, utterly gone-her house desc
late, no flowers in the windows, no fur
niture in the place, ITO Let" staring
from every window.
had only known Clara three months.
knew not a single one of her friends.
| knew she had some few relations-her
mothers family-and I did not even
know their name. The Vanes knew no
in kensington, and they only knew
me through our cat having fortunately
been killed by their dog.
But I was poor then, and poverty is
proud. The Vanes' house, dress and
mode of life b&okaned wealth. could
not tell her 1 loved her, and now
The charwoman opened the door again
and put out her curl papered head to
say:
"There was a funeral afore the sale;
perhaps they'd tell you at the under
takers"
A funeral! hailed a passing hanson
and drove straight to Gray's Inn.
eyes. Mr.. Vane unfortunately died
at one of u houses-19 Westphalia ter
IA e. Left no estate: had Systematically
overshot his income. Sorry I can't give
you any further information"
Not clew. The tradnernen knew moth
ing. the vicar knew nothing, the police
of course knew nothing and did nothing
but pocket my money and take down
things in notebooks with blunt pencils.
Advertisements failed absolutely.
And 81 Clara Vane was lost to me
passed out of my life completely-leav-
ing me with a really respectable fortune,
which it was entirely out of the ques-
ton for me to enjoy.
Ibid see her again. did, but not for
four years-four long years.
won't go so far as to say that an hour
passed in which I did not think Of
her, but I'll swear that two never did.
And I loved her more than ever.
Well. after four years of this life-I
had my own work to do and my other
life to live, but that has nothing to do
with this story-after four years bust
ness took me to Tunbridge.
went by an express train. I bought
the papers and got a comfortable corner
in a first class carriage, where I let the
papers lie on my knee and dreamed my
usual dreams-Clara, Clara, Clara.
AS we swept into Halstead station l
looked out, with a torpid curiosity as tc
the gardens, and saw Clara!
Whizz-zz-whirr! The train had
shot past the station, the carriage win
dows ratified, the train vibrated and
pulsated with the increasing speed, and
every pulse and every vibration was car
rying me away from my hearts heart. ,
In a flash 1 saw that if l went on to
Sevenoaks and got a train back she, who
was obviously waiting for the next up
train, would have left the station long
before l reached it. Probably she was
only spending the day at Halstead. and
any search for her there would be in
vain.
I broke the glass and pulled the ham
die. The train slackened, and as it
stopped the guard put his head in at my
carriage window.
"Why, you're all right" he said,
''blest if I didn't think you was dead
when 1 heard that bell. It's a wonder it
is connected. Just my luck, too. and us
10 minutes behind already. What did
yer do it for, chi"
Il stopped the train because l am 60
ing to get out" I said firmly.
Nothing wrongT'
"No; but l am going to get out"
He planted himself firmly in the door
way.
mo, you don't" he said.
l was desperate. l took out a Go note,
laid it on a seat and advanced toward
him.
"And what about my trouble. STRIP he
asked politely, gazing at the note; sstop-
ping the train and liable, sir, to get into
trouble"
dumped out of the carriage. He made
way for me deferentially. Our hands
touched. Great is the currency, and it
will prevail. The next minute I was
speeding back along the down line to-
ward Halstead station. My breath came
fast and with difficulty. My knees ached
furiously, but I ran on. I could hear
distinctly the rumble of the train in the
tunnel behind me.
Tf tho main limo nm wOn If wou1d baar