Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1898-09-15
CHAPTER V

CHAPTER V.
"Do you think Temple WIFI get nero
tonight before the paper out?" And the
news editor nervously rolled and I'M
rolled the copy he held.
"When he says he'll do thing, be
does it," said Frawley, the managing
editor, who was covering the pages be-
fore him with blue lines from his flash
ing pencil until they looked like maps
of railroad that followed an inconse-
quent course and met in labyrinth.
Anne looked at the clock. 1t was
after 10. The pencil dropped from her
fingers and she pulled the shade from
above her tired eyes. Since she had
been writing in race against time, and
now, her work completed, she was
tingling with fatigue.
1t was the 1st of November. The
summer, unlike any other of her life,
seemed far away. Made up Of dusty,
feverish days and happy nights, it was
past, like sleep. Through the window
before her she could see the fog drip
ping over the city, curtain of SCOTT,
ness, its folds breaking on the angles OF
houses, the lights Of the town white
splashes on the haze. The world looked
sullen, as if choked under that sooty
pail into submission and silence. And
yet none knew better than she, sitting
aloft among the chroniclers, Of the
snarl among the unhappy, Of the tur-
moil and crime seething there, and the
ambition which spared no brother for
the uprising of self.
It had been day of extraordinary
climaxes. A murder in high places had
Mortified the city. The political strug,
gle was hurrying to a crisis. The latest
kilograms told of disastrous floods in
one state and strike of many thou,
sand miners in another.
AS result there were tonight more
striking of bells and dragging sound ot
hurrying feet than were usual even dur.
ing the exciting hours just previous tC
the paper going to press. There was ex.
pectancy on the absorbed faces. Unrest
hung in the air like stormcloud.
After weeks absence David Temple
was momentarily expected. He had
wired to suspend any arrangements re.
garding the assignment of reporters to
the scene of the strikes until his arrival.
While the usual routine of making the
paper went on the men were waiting
for him.
Anne was waiting for him too. A
trembling anticipation swept over her
as she fancied him coming through the
open door. He would bring restfulness
into the confusion, visible power to
the handling of the several problems,
and it would be good to see him again.
'He ought to be here now," said
Jack Bradley, strolling over to her
desk. 81 hope he'll let me out of Plat s
Peak. don't want that assignment.
Starving miners are not much in my
way"
81 Thought not" said Anne dryly,
gathering together the copy headed
"The Sunday Page, :" which during the
present stress she edited. 81 never saw
you look as happy as the day you were
sent out to inspect and describe the
Duke of Stockbury's wedding clothes
when he came over to marry the sugar
refiner's daughter. They were in your
line"
"Oh, say, you do chaff a. fellow hor-
ribly But seriously, I'm playing for
the dramatic critics place. Jove, fancy
calling that work-every pretty actress
smiling at you pleadingly was made
for it. BY the way, Miss Garrick, why
don't you go on the stage? Beastly work
this for pretty girl!'
Anne was not listening to him. Lean.
ing her elbow on the back of the chair,
her hand curved like cup to support
her chin, she was looking at Donald
Sefain, who had just come in.
There he was, shabby, silent. recluse
among the alert crowd. The discomfort
in his worn eyes, his hopeless but I'M
conquered air, seemed now as always
like minor, passionate phrase woven
unfittingly into the flourishes of hack
neyed tune.
She wondered if she would ever know
him, ever learn just what sinuosities of
character, what experiences, had made
him tho creature he was. This wish
had begun to tinge her days. Nothing,
however, seemed more unlikely. They
had not exchanged word. He held aloof
from her as from every one else.
"Look at that beast Sefain, mutter-
ed Bradley.
"Why do you call him that?" And
Anne turned sharply upon him.
"Look at his clothes"
They're not like the Duke of Stock
bury's, are they?"
Besides he drinks. I saw him drunk