Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1894-11-26
MY BET.

At the little dinner Of three which
Alec Bradford was giving | hadn t
drunk more than three glasses Of wine
in ALL But [ have been temperate
man throughout my life, and possibly
even this moderate indulgence made me
unwontedly rash.
Perhaps my unstrung nerves had q
good deal to do with the matter as we'll.
[ had fed from the home Of a tyrannlc-
al stepfather here in New York about
six years ago, when the merest boy,
Just after my mothers death. Count
less hardships had beset me since then,
but now I had gained in the far west
at least hopeful semblance of prosper
ity. I had come back with only single
purpose-to find my twin sister, Ruth
Amberley, and bring her to dwell out
there in Kansas with myself and my
beloved young wife.
fearful, yet striving to smile through
her tears, Clara had hidden me goodby.
cts dreadful to have you go alone,
Frank, she faltered. "Still, you know,
you owe it to your sister. You never
wrote to tell her where you were for a
long time after you'd driven your tent
stakes here into Ashbyville. "
1T know-T know, Clara. It was my
jealousy, suppose
Jealousy Of d stepfather! And of
such q shocking despot as you paint him
too! And how could Ruth have run
away with you as you proposed in your
madly boyish fashion? And as for her
not answering the letters you've writ
ten her since renorse has begun to prick
yOu-why, there isn't a doubt that she
never received them. Her stCpfather' S
probably moved away from where he
used to live, or ii may be that he's dieo
and''-
''That Ruth's dead, too" I broke in
dismally, cor driven out into the bit
ter world by that same brute who drove
me there!''
Twas destined to learn on my arrival
in New York that my stepfather had
died over two yea1s ago. Concerning
Ruth no one could tell me- Our former
home held new tenants. l made count
less inquiries and even put advertise
ments into newspapers. My stepfather
had left all his money, discovered (no
great sum either, to certain relations
in Baltimore. These, answering my let
tiers regarding the whereabouts of Ruth,
could only tell me that she had left her
stepfather good while before his death,
and that they believed some kind of
quarrel had caused the separation.
''Some kind of quarrel!'' I forlornly
mused 'Oh, how horrible to think that
the sister once SO dearly cherished may
be in want and suffering! But Of one
thing I am certain. Ruth could never
go wrong, no matter what hateful crisis
overlook her. She was and will always
stay purity and refinement to her finger
tips. Our dear dead mother taught her
that and gave it to her as we'll as the
strange and sweet sanctity of inherit
ance.
Iwrote to my wife several sad letters,
and one was SO desperately repentant in
it's tenor that she answered it with a
kind of sweet savagery.
"How dare you say, Frank, that you
feel as if you had killed Ruth?'' ran her
response. eff you want to make my
loneliness, which I am trying to bear as
bravely as I can, still more distressing
to me, you will not write again in a
mood both so morbid and so absurd.
That evening, when I dined at the
Brunswick with Alec Bradford and
John Hathaway, two friends whom
had made in the west, and who were in
New York for commercial reasons, far
different from my own, I felt far more
wretchedly hopeless than I cared to re-
veal.
81 10
drinking our coffee and smoking our
cigars, Bradford advanced his little
theory, born of some converse We had
held about the wickedness and depravity
of ''darker New York.
81 believe could do just what you
say [ can't came my words after
little furry of discussion.
John Hathaway was rather flushed
with champagne. He knocked his fist
against the table and said, merrily, yet
seriously:
''Make him take your bet, then, Alec.
Well all go stunning together, as
they call it.
''The bet,'' I said, ''gives me big
odds. Ten dollars from myself to 800
from Alec that nothing will happen 70
us if I go with both of you wherelfr
you shall direct and in each place make
it known that carry on my person the
sum of S., OO0i'
"Never mind" laughed Bradford in
his breezy, staccato way. ''I'll stick to
my bet. He turned to Hathaway
slack, you'll hold the stakes?''
ooh, yes, came Jacks reply. Eve
may all get ourselves murdered, so I
propose to raise my courage with a
brandy and soda.
While the waiter obeyed his orders