The Emmett index. [volume] (Emmett, Idaho) 1893-1925, 1895-03-02
THE HEIRESS.

lhh ~ the romance OF middle aged
mantle romance Of an old head and "A
young heart. ! am gray haired and 40.
and yet as ! sit al my desk in the gloomy
little Office OF Harmans mill face comes
between my eyes aud the columns Of fig
ures la the dusty ledgers-a young face
with clear. bright eyes--and fall into a
day dream and forget that am old and
poor and commonplace.
She Is the only child Of Jore Hartman.
the millionaire mill owner. aud az gentle
and good rs she is beautiful.
have watched her grow into woman
hood. ! have watched hor character
deepening and widening and developing
toward the ideal Of my dr. AIMS.
And all these years have been learn
ing 10 love her
Surely love Is not wholly wasted.
though IL Is hopeless. am better man
that | have loved Nellie Hartman.
No. build no air castles.
am 40 and she 49,
am only her fathers booxkeeper. and
she Is the heiross Of millions
There was time when little Nellie
Hartman rode on my shoulder. hunted
my pockets for goodies and escaped her
nurses charge several times day TO
toddlo down TO the mill in search of cher
Jack Spencer Later she brought her
school tasks. the incorriWble Latin verbs
and the unconquorable examples In frac-
tons 10 the same old friend. who was
never too busy 10 be bothered by little
Nellie Hartman.
She Is as unaffected and cordial in her
friendliness as ever. and sometimes when
she lays her hand on my arm and looks
up into my face and asks why come so
seldom 10 the hall. and have grown
tired Of old friends. Of hcr-then find
1t hard TO answer lightly. 10 smile calm
ly, and 20 away with hcartache.
The girl does not lack for friends.
Grim, stern old Jere Harmans little
bright faced child. mothorless since her
babyhood, long ago found tender spot
in the hearts of the village folk. In the
cottages her face is as welcome as sun
shine. The children hang ON her gown.
the women sing her praises. and the
toughest millhand has always a civil
word for her and lift Of the cap as she
passes.
She has her young friends. too. among
the country gentlefolk Young Harry
Desmond is often at the hall Il is ru.
mored that he is the fortunate sutton of
Jero Harmans heiress. lie is n fresh
faced. good hearted lad Love is for
youth. aud they are young together.
Gray haired Jack Spencer. what have
you TO do with cloves young dreamg"
Tho strikcl
The mill Is shut down. and the strikers
gather in knots along the village street
and discuss the situation. The cut rates
have caused the trouble Jero Hartman
Is hard man aud hard master. He
holds the fate of these people in his
hands. A few cents less to them. few
dollars more to him. This seemed TO him
20 settle the question. Tho times were
dull-ho would reduce wages The Ilar-
man mill operatives went ont in body.
The first day Of the strike Big John
the weaver who headed the strikers.
came to Jere Hartman with delegation
TO arbitrate the matter.
To them Hartman said: Return to
work at my terms OF stay out and starve.
Monday hire new hands IL YOU are not
back In your places. As long as | own
this mill shall be master here"
This was his final answer. and no words
Of mine. no warnings of the murmurs
and threats that grow and deepen among
the men. will shake his will
There Is talk OF firing the mill. among
the mad Drained ones. and Big John
shakes his head
That We're chopping the nose of to
spite the face. men. II the mill were
burned. how would that help as TO work
and wagesf Nay IL must be other
means"
Aye. we must live. but II we do not
get our rights by fair means We viii
have them by foul, cried another.
They mean mischief have warned
Jere Hartman. but he will not heed
The strike is over
The night Is ended. and I sit alone in
the Office In the gray dawn. sick and
dizzy with the horrors OF the nights ex-
perience shut my eyes. and the pic.
ture stands out before me-the dark
night. the hall with It's lights glowing
out through the windows. the gay party
of young people In the drawing room.
the CLEAN Of torches outside. the mob Of
desperate men. the angry. upturned
faces. There was a tramp of feet. hoarse
shouts, and a stone crashed through
window and shattered the chandelier.
The music stopped with discordant
crash. There was instant confusion. and
above il all there were the hoarse cries
of Jere Hartman.
sprang through the piazza window
and faced the men. They knew me wen.
and Big John shouted:
We've naught against You. John
Spencer. We mean no harm TO any. but
the master must hear us. Bring out the
masterr'
"Come like honest men in daylight
and talk it over calmly" urged: mot
at night like a mob Of ruiiians with
stones for arguments.