Cottonwood report. [volume] (Cottonwood, Idaho) 1893-1901, 1898-03-25

il you can be in London by next week.
Of course, if
'Not at all, Mr. Bunker inter
posed Bob. "No Inconvenience, L as
sure you. It is now Wednesday, and
If 1 might leave the Office at once to
begin my Preparations"
"Quite right" Mr.. Bunker re-
turned. "We'll dispense with you un-
til Friday morning, by which time
your instructions will be all ready"
A few moments later Bob was seated
at his desk striving nightly to finish
his morning mail in the shortest pos
sible time. His aim, however, was
not to rush home and tell the folks
that his long looked-for European trip
had become a realization. He wished
to reach the Morning Stnr and say one
word to the little Irish beauty, that he
hoped should persuade her to-well.
at least, not to forget him, and if it
was not too great demand, to ask her
to write to him.
But it was noon before he could get
away from the Office. His first ner-
vously rapid steps brought him to a
florists, where he purchased few
roses, only just so many as he could
carry in his pocket without iniuring
them. He would sooner have wheeled
baby carriage across City Hall Park
than carry those flowers in his hand.
On entering the restaurant Bob
trembled, and the cold sweat stood on
his brow. He foreshadowed to him
self now the horror of going down the
church aisle with Fannie leaning on
his arm. Wouldn't it be awful? But
still how rapturous
"Pshaw, she'll never have me-" he
murmured again to himself as he took
his accustomed seat.
Here another qualm assaulted him.
How could he give Fannie those roses
without attracting everybody's atten-
ton? How in the first place could he
get them out of his pocket without
tearing their tender petals asunder?
While he was fidgeting over these
thoughts, he heard what seemed a
familiar step behind him, and as the
waitress reached his side, he whispered
hoarsely without daring to uplift his
gaze.
"Good morning, Fannie
'Sir?" was the interrogatorya answer.
The voice was strange. The tone
incomprehensible from the sweet lips
of Fannie. Bob looked up staring.
The next instant his eyes dropped
and an objectionable mist clouded
their fine gray hue.
1t was not Fannie!
"Your order, please" the new wait
ress demanded peremptorily.
Corn beef and pork" stammered
Bob, great lump in his throat almost
choking utterance
Corn beef an pork?" queried the
waitress. "You mean corn beef an,
don't you?"
eyes, confound it," muttered Bob.
"Corned beef and-quail, if you like. u
The new waitress slouched away in
high dudgeon and told one of her CO.
laborers that ''the chump with the
Willy-boy tie in the corner was a
geezer. -
The other waitress, friend of Fan
MES, looked at the "geezer" and i'm
mediately went to his table.
"Heard the news?" she asked.
"No," answered Bob disconsolately
'"Fannie's quit. Got out las
night"
where's she gomez"
Don't know. Nobody does. No
even the boss. She asked for her pa,
last night and wouldn't say why she
was leavin' or where she was goin'.'
"Ahem" Bob coughed with al
effort that burned his throat. "Say
Kittie, please tell that new waitress
that L don't want that lunch. Here,
the dime for it, Good morning"
Dropping the coin on the table
Bob rose abruptly and strobe out o.
| the restaurant, never needing tn,
word of inquiry which the proprietor
bawled after him.
He boarded car, rode up town to
favorite cafe where he ordered drinl
over which he sat musing for an houl
without tasting it.
During this time he was torturin,
his brain for some means by which b,
could trace Fannie. He did not know
even her family name, her address O
anybody who was acquainted with her
He had long ago found that she pre-
served herself strictly incognita to the
other mattresses for which direction
he had admired her much. Now h
blamed her.
There was nothing to do but inser
a personal" in the papers. Although
this seemed caddish, he did it. Fo
three days his advertisement We
printed in all the papers, but no ans
wer came as late as sailing time on Sat
urday morning.
Happily, the weighty matters will
which his firm had intrusted him oc
cupied the larger part of his thoughts
but whenever he dared forget them
flock of unhealthy melancholy idea