The Madisonian. (Virginia City, Mont.) 1873-1915, 1895-10-05
A RUNAWAY WHEEL.

Fired, old man, you are indeed for
tunate,' said I as / leaned back in the
easy chair before the CRATE fire in his
coy home.
Yes, fortunate is the very word,"
he answered musingly. The events of
an hour changed the course of my life.
If that hour had been left out of the
day, [ should not be the possessor Of
such a home, but would be back in the
old bachelor quarters. They were not so
bad, and there was only one woman for
whom L would give them up. At that
time she had refused e-w in fact,
engaged to another.
II have never before spoken of this,
but what I have gained has been we'll
earned. Twas favored by fortune in that
hour, but it was Selling the opportunity
chat made me successful.
"A party Of us had gone away on a
wheeling trip. We were young, gay and
joyous, and the weeks slipped by until
it came time for us to think Of return
ing.
From being in love with Emily
Brant 1 became madly infatuated with
her. Though she treated me in the most
distant manner, I still thought, with
the conceit of youth, that she cared a
little for me. I was helped out in this
idea by little incidents and trivial cir
cumstances which led me to hope she
would accept me.
81 had a rival-a man who did not
seem to consider my actions of any i'm
portance. l could not seem to make him
Jealous in the slightest degree. He had
naturally a very self composed manner,
but thia alone would not account for his
bearing,
Il came to the conclusion that 1 must
propose to Emily before we returned to
the city, a. l would have a much better
opportunity Of stating my case amid ia
vorable surroundings than in the city
with its hustle and interruptions.
Zone afternoon we were riding
through a beautiful valley, and it SO
happened Emily and myself We're quite
a distance to the rear of the party. The
road was smooth, the trees arched over
head, the sunlight streamed in gold
shafts through them, falling alternately
upon Emily as she rode her wheel SO
easily and gracefully, lighting her
beauty with Il soft glow. l could keep
silence no longer, and riding close be-
side her, as we sped on together, l told
her how much 1 loved her and asked
her II ba my wife.
ssI7t,-, ,.,,at Nv, l,ao l-;,,c q Cf +1>D Jroo,,
/ had had for 50 many weeks and
months In n few words l learned there
was 10 hope for ne; that though she
admired and respected me she had never
thought Of me i'll any other way; that
there was already an understanding be-
tween Nj. Fernow and herself, anG
that their engagement was soon to be
announced.
"At first could hardly believe my
ears. We rode the rest of the way il
silence. For me the glory Of the day
had departed. 1t was as if a haze, like
the melancholy haze Of Indian summer
through which l should see all thing!
for all time. had closed around me,
IF it had been possible, l should
have left that night for the city, bu'
circumstances compelled me to accom-
pany the party on II last ride.
II V saw a gayer set Of people
than We were when we started the mex
day. Some Of them guyed me a little
about my lack Of gayety, but I answered
that 1 was to leave the next day ant
felS sad in consequence.
"We were to ride down one valley
then descend a mountain into anothe
valley, 1 was the only one in the part.
who had been over the road, and it wa.