The Beaver herald. [volume] (Beaver, O.T. [Okla.]) 1895-1923, 1898-01-13

of the deed, to go back to the events
which had Immediately preceded that
piece of good fortune. He had Helen's
letter in his pocket, and he read il again
in the thickening twilight. 1t was a
good letter. after all. he admitted; sem
sible aud practical. and showing forth
in every line the nobility and u
heartcdness of the writer. None the
less, she should have known-she would
havc known, had she really loved him
that her proposal could be accepted
only OF the condition he had imposed
that a single sentence of warm affection
from her at such a time would have out
weighed all the acts OF seif-abnegation
that could I've crowded into a lifetime.
And yet he could not help wishing that
he had not been so prompt to return
cold formality for ~kind-hearted COM
mon sense. She would doubtless he
glad enough to be free-oh, that. of
course; but he might have been as
frank and informal with her as she
had a right to expect him to be-aS
their long friendship and engagement
demanded. And just here a brush from
nv htAAi0 VI iidili SUNG III INV
could he ever hope that she would at
tribute any but the basest motive to his
letter when she learned the truth about
Elsie? Would she not always accuse
him i'm her heart of having been glad of
the prcteXt afforded by his loss for
breaking openly an engagement which
had been long ignored in secret? lie
was sure she would. and he checked
himself impatieutly when he found
that he wa setting the contempt of
the woman he had asked to release him
above the love of the woman who had
saved his life.
That thought brought back to him
Elsie and the present. Had she really
saved his life? Was il quite beyond
doubt that she was the one woman in
the world who could lead him out of
himself into n sphere of usefulness and
accomplishment? 1t was by no means
as clear and well-defined as it had APP
pearcd to be on that day when he had
sat up among the pillows and fancied
himself inspired. Nevertheless, us he
had accepted the help, he must abide by
the choice of that day--and he would,
come what might.
No matter which way it turned, the
train of reflection led quickly TO dis
comforting conclusions, and Thorn
dyke was glad when the sound of n dis
amt whistle assured him that he could
presently pass from the depressing at
lnosphcre of introspection into tempo
rury oblivion of action. 1t was but n
step across to the railway, and he was
tired enough to postpone taking it un
til IL became n necessity. The whistle
sounded again, and he sat lazily watch
ing the eye of yellow light staring
southwark from the signal lamp over
the station, while the rumble of the APP
preaching train hoated up the valley
on the evening breeze. Had he known
that Glenco was a flag station for the
night train, and that he was the only
passenger he would have bestirred him
self when the lamp flashed red and then
back to yellow again in answer TO the
engineers call for signals. After that
it was too late; there was a rush and u
roar, n d%iscordant changing of the en-
CINE bell mingled with the kissing of
steam, and before he could cross the
street the train had Numbered past
without stopping.
Circumstances, and the power 10
pick and choose among the possibili-
ties, have much to do with ones peace
of mind. Half an hour earlier Philip
had debated with himself the ncces-
sity for hurrying back to Allacoochee
that night. The small hotel was clean;
the supper had been of the kind which
prophesies a wholesome breakfast;
and he was weary enough to call il a
days work and go to bed. None the
less, when he realized that his last
chance for reaching Allacoochee had
faded into a distant roar md two red
eyes staring back at him down the
long stretch of straight track
north of Glenco, he was inn
mediately possessed with an i'm
Fortunate devil of impatience. As a
matter of fact, since there was an early
train in the morning, it could make lit
Tie difference whether he slept at Glen
co or at his room at the JOHANNESBURG;
but it was a part of his plan that he
should reach Allacoochee at once. and
go he must, if he had to walk. So
much he said to the hotelkcrper. who
was at n loss to understand the impa-
thence of his guest. A man might
walk, he said; ii was only ten miles.
And then, again, n man might ride, il so
be he were willing to pay for a horse.
Philip caught at the alternative and Of
fered to pay literally. The horse was
found, and after many minute direc-
tons about the road. which were quail
fled, repeated and amended until they
were hopelesssly obscure, Thorndykc
rode away in the darkness.
Iro mn coNrtNr-un1