The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1897-01-15

$50 this is the old business over
again." he said.
"How can you say that" cried
Jennie, reproachfully. 81 am asking
for my own satisfaction entirely, and
not for my paper. Besides, tell you
frankly what | want to know, ana
don't try to get it by indirect means
by false pretenses-as you once said
How can you expect me to give you
information that does not belong t.,
me alone? l have no right to speak o!
2 business which concerns others with
out their permission"
"Ah, then there are at least two Others
concerned in the NINE" said Jennie
gleefully. Kenyon is one, l know,
who is the other?"
Miss Brewster, will tell you moth
ing"
but you have told me something al
ready. Please go on and talk, Mr..
Wentworth-about anything you like
and l shall soon find out all want to
know about the mine"
She paused, but Wentworth re-
manned silent, which, indeed, the be-
wildered young man realized was the
only safe thing to do.
"They speak of the talkativeness of
women" Miss Brewster went on, as if
soliloquizing, but it is nothing to that
of the men. Once set a man talking
and you learn everything he knows
besides ever so much more that he
doesn't"
Miss Brewster had abandoned her
very talkative attitude, with its sug-
geStion of confidential relations, and
had removed her elbows from the ia
BILE, sitting now back in her chair gaz-
ing dreamily at the dingy window
which let the light in from the dingy
court. She seemed to have forgotten
that Wentworth was there, and said
more to herself than to him:
81 wonder if Kenyon would tell me
about the mine?"
You might ask him."
mo, it wouldn't do any good" she
continued, gently shaking her head.
Hes one of your silent men, and there
are so few of them in this world. Per-
haps l had better go to William Long
worth himself; he is not suspicious of
me-"
And as she said this she threw a
quick glance at Wentworth, and the
unfortunate young mans face at once
told her that she had hit the mark.
She bent her brow over the table and
laughed with such evident enjoyment
that Wentworth, in spite of his help
less anger, smiled grimly.
Jennie raised her head, but the sight
of his perplexed countenance was too
much for her, and it was some time be-
fore her merriment allowed her to
speak At last she said:
Wouldn't you like to take me by the
shoulders and put me out of the room.
Mr.. Wentworth"
I'D like to take you by the shoulders
and shake YOU"
"Ah! that would be taking liberty,
and could not be permitted. We must
leave punishment to the law, you know,
although / do think a man should be
allowed to turn an Objectionable visit
or into the street."
Miss Brewster" cried the young
man, earnestly. leaning over the table
toward her, why don't you abandon
your horrible inquisitorial profession
and put your undoubted talents to
some other use?"
What, for instance?"
"Oh-anything."
Jennie rested her fair cheek against
her open palm again and looked at the
d;ngv window. There was a long ST.
lence between them. Wentworth was
absorbed in watching her clear-cut pro-
file and her white throat, his breath
ouickening as he Toasted his eyes on
her beauty.
Il have always got angry" she said
al last. in low voice, with the culver
of a suppressed sigh in it. when other
people have said that to mel wonder
why it is ! merely feel hurt and sad
when you say il" 1t is so easy to say
'ch-anything'-so easy-so easy. You
are a man. with the strength and de-
termination of man. yet you have
met with disappointmcnts and obsta
cles that have required all your cour
age TO overcome. Every man has. and
with most men it is a fight until the
lead is gray and the brain weary with
! the ceaseless struggle. The world IS
utterly merciless; it Will trample you
down relentlessly if ii can. and if your
! vigilance relaxes for moment ii vii.
steal your crust and leave you to starve
/ When | think of this incessant, sulleT
contest, with no quarter given or taken
1 shudder and pray that ! may die be
fore l am at the mercy of the pitiles-
world. When | came TO London saw
for the first time in my life that hope
less melancholy promenade of the
| sandwich men, human wreckage drift
ing along the edge of the street, a:
il they had been cast up there by the
rushing tide sweeping past them.
They-they seemed to me like a tot
tering procession of the dead-and or
their backs was the announcement o.
a play that was making all London
roar with laughter-the awful comedy
end frapedv of 1T Well I simDlI