The Louisiana populist., 1898-01-21


uptown after having put the paper
TO bed. If any other man had told
it should have simply said that it
was lie, but as have never known
Sam to lie about anything I give it
For what it is worth. Bryne, the city
editor, says that so far as he knows
1t happened just as Sam tells it, and
they say Pemberton does, too, al
though he's working on the New York
SUN now, so [ can't swear to that.
"When Kitty Andrews said she'd
marry me, l suppose it made me
about the happiest man in the news
paper business, was the way Sam be-
gan his story. "You fellows who
have always lived with your folks
don't know what it means to have
been without anything you might
call home and to have lived round at
boarding houses and cafes since YOU
were boy,as I have done. 1t sounds
mighty fine to say you're your own
master and accountable to no one, but
you get deadly tired of it by the time
you're 30, and you wish to Heaven
that there was someone for you to be
accountable to; someone who cared
whether or not you came home at
night and took some interest in you
and what you did. Well, you can
imagine how | felt, then, when / found
out that l, who have no single thing
.,bout me to attract o woman, had won
jhe heart of the dearest little girl in
The world.
ut was two nights after she told
ne that l was sitting in the office,
waiting with the philosophical content
Df man on call for something to turn
ap. I had the last call, from 7 to 3,
and ordinarily I should have looked
forward with anything but pleasure to
such long pull, for it was q dull
evening, and there was not a thing in
sight which would be likely to take
me out, but that night the time passed
quickly and pleasantly, for 1 could sit
there and think of Kitty and wish that
[ were with her. She had been stay
ing with her sister at North Beach
and was to come up that evening.
There was no one to come with her,
but it was only short distance from
the boat to car which would take her
home, so. I did not worry about her.
TT was early in the evening, and,
of course, at that time it was very
quiet in the big Office. OF all the re-
porters there was only one other in
beside myself, and the four rows of
desks shone closed and empty in the
bright glare of the electric light. The
Only.sounds dswhich broke the stiffness
were the mufied conversation in the
city editors room and the rattle of
Pemberton's typewriter as he worked
on a story.
"That was at 10 o'clock, but the
hour had not more than sounded
when there crept over me most in
describable feeling of terror and
dread, There was no reason for it, no
possible explanation of it, but it came
on me suddenly, and it. grew and
grew until it seemed as though I
should spring out of my chair and
scream aloud. Now, you know me.
You know I've no more nerves than
a craven image, yet there I was with
every nerve in my body quivering
with forebodings and fright without
any apparent cause. I could not sit
still, but got up from my chair and
began pacing up and down the office,
faster and faster. Then the dread
took more definite form, and I could
feel that it was some danger to Kitty
that was moving me SC; that some
where, and not very far away, she
needed me and needed me fearfully.
I could almost hear her voice calling
me for aid, and the longing to go to
her, if / had only known how OF
where, shook me like reed. What
made it worse was that I knew she
must be. somewhere in the city at that
time. but even knowing this I could
not tell where to go to her and could
not bring myself to leave my post on
q mere impulse, so matter how strong
it was.
II paced up and down, up and
down, getting more nervous and ex-
cited, when all of q sudden the fire
alarm Taper over the door of the city
editors room began to strike, and
from the first tap OF the bell it sounded
like q summons to me. We didn't or
dinarily answer a first alarm, and yet
could feel that should answer this
one and that it was more to me than
. mere fire alarm; that it was some
thing of vivid personal import, though
what I could not tell.
III stood in the centre OF the floor,
the strokes Of the Taper
with every nerve on the culver. One
three -four five-rang out
The little bell. Then pause; and
again, one-two. I did not wait for
Instructions, but reached my locker III
) couple of jumps. The city editor
put his head out of his door and, see-
;ng that I was going, simply nodded.
Get ) gait. Merrow, he said. but /