The Columbus journal., 1893-12-20

HE SAT ON HIS BED y THOUGHT
fire, with Dora between them. She
was talking earnestly, and the hand
some stranger seemed to be listening
intently. Occasionally Jack could see
that Mr.. Goldthwait spoke. Then Dora
would beam with happy smiles. Sud
denly she jumped up from her seat,
and q moment later when she re.
turned she had in her hands a aut-
tering manuscript.
She read it. The old smile played
about her lips. The gestures waved
the graceful hands. It maddened Jack.
He felt that he must be near her once
more-must hear her voice again.
A wis:eria vine ran down from his
window. Clasping the strong dry
stock. Jack descended until he stood
on the fence SO dear to his memory.
Softly he crept along until he reached
the little veranda at the rear of the
Goldthwait mansion, and peering
through the window he toasted his ewes
on the girl he loved.
Jack was overcome as he saw again
all the little details of the room
which once had been so familiar to
him He bowed his head. He pushed
against the glass of the swinging win
dow. The window ,ened a trifie.
Jack started back frightened, but the
air was still outside. and the inmates
of the room had not noticed. How he
could hear Dora's voice. Itsaid:
Now, Mr.. Langdon, let me read the
climax to you before dinner is an
nounced."
Langdon was the name of the Eng
lish actor to whom Jack had sent his
play. and as Dora's sweet voice read
on, Jack realized that it was his own
comedy she was reading.
The climax was rendered with tell
ing effect The two men leaned for
ward with interest
Capital! Capital" cried Langdon.
Jack was filed with intense excite
ment His hands were clinched.
do you accept it?" asked Dora,
triumphantiy. of the actor.
Il do" was the reply. ut is the
comedy that l have been waiting for"
II will write to him tonight, then"
said Dora. The beautiful girl sank
back in her chair and went IN: '.And
now l will tell you a story that will
explain why l was SO anxious to have
you take the play"
Jack listened breathlessly.
"HOu see," said Dora, II used tC
have a friend here named John Flem-
ing. When we went abroad l wrote
to him, but he did not answer my let
tiers. lost sight of him, but l did not
lose my-well, my regard for him"
"A splendid fellow" interrupted
Mr.. G~oldthwait.
There never was one like him."
said Dora. Then she went on: well,
when we reached New York
last week father and l began to look
him up, and we found in the first place
that the reason he had not answered
my letters was because his father, who
was angry at both of us, had inter-
ccpted them; in the second place, that
father and son were never reconciled,
and that the old gentleman disin-
herited Jack when he died, and in the
third place that Jack had been ever
since barely making a living out of
literary work and trying to get some
one to produce his plays
I'VE finally got track of him this
morning. and this morning also l saw
q manuscript of this play lying on
A'S tuoAc "uSTc you ndu IeIG IL WRen
You brought it up from the theater.
The words BY John Fleming caught
my attention at once, and l picked it
M and read it. It seemed to me so
strange that l made up my mind that
you shouldn't send it back without
reading it, SO l read it to you myself.
And now 1 shall send for Jack to-
morrow and when he comes l shall
have good news for him. And--and
good news for Jack isis good ne WIS
for-for me, you see. So I am very
happy"
There was a noise of an opening
window. and Jack, wild eyed and
unkempt. but very joyful. stepped in.
For a moment they did not recognize
him. but when they did
"Well." said Mr.. Langdon, .sthis
climax beats anything in your play"
"Yes." added MI. Goldthwait ssand
1t is doubly good because it will be
followed by q real Thanksgiving
a Trma chrise3nn