The Middleburgh post. [volume] (Middleburgh, Snyder Co., Pa.) 1883-1916, 1899-11-16
Lost for Love
BY r. E. Young.

THIRTY years. l close my eyes
and live it all again. There
stood the model-complete at last
After incredible years of failure
and nights of agony, l had
stumbled upon the secret of balancing
these levers; my MINDLESS motor-clock
would tick on forever. At first l was
crazy-I wanted to rush out and call
the world to see; then came the crush
ing recollection that it had yet to be
placed on the market. A step on the
stairs, too, reminded me that ! owed
nearly $50 to Lamont, the young
Frenchman in the room over mine.
Lamont-no one in the house seemed
to understand him; even Meta her
self had whispered TO me once that she
shivered at the look in his eyes at times.
And yet he had interested himself so
in my scheme, and those small loans
of his had really kept me from starva-
ton. Yes; he was going past-some-
thing made me open my door.
"Sh! Here!" whispered. There it
stands. Lamont l hope l shall be able
to pay you all back with"
"Eh? Never!" Afterward II came
back to me that he whitened curiously
rs he walked across and bent incredu-
lously over 1t. Jealous?-or was 1t too
much for him to grasp that might
soon be rich and talked about? When
he turned, 1t was with an expression
that took away half my thrill. You're
quite certain?" he asked. What are
you going to doP"
"Do?" I was still holding out my
hand. "Take out provisional rights at
once-to-morrow. Certain? gave it
ten days, and then, If 1t failed me
again, I meant to grind it to powder.
No one has touched it for 12-you hear
It now!"
"And what else are you going to do?"
he persisted, staring past
why. marry Netta-if she'll have
mel" The whisper was out before !
knew 1t.
"Ah, l thought It," He smiled-yet
he looked i'll. Il thought as much.
But you'll make sure; your motor-clock
is not in the shops yet; you-1 mean,
there are accounts to be settled before
you could even think of-of that.
Well,"-he was at the door now
you're to be admired-is that the
word? Were l you I should say not
n syllable to anyone yet. You never
know; suppose your model was to dis
appear?"
NONSENSE" gasped, little coldly.
"It could profit nobody unless they had
my table Of calculations as well. This
double spring you see"
But he had gone. Kneeling beside my
precious model, / had forgotten the
queer incident in moment. The I'M
broken swing of that pendulum was
like new life to n dying man-Heaven
alone knew what Wild dreams l had
been rearing up in those past three
years. To go forever! Why, everyone
knew that the great Prof. Sabraschky,
after lifetime spent in graphing with
the theory, had finally committed sui
eide in despair; and here Why,
had not whispered yet Of my success
TO Meta. She, unlike the rest, had
never seemed to think me mad;
wouldn't her tired brown eyes shine
when she realized that my persistent
experiments had really reached a great
finality! Just to Netta--I must; no
need for difiidence now. Nine o'clock
soon she would be carrying up supper
for those whom she and her father
boarded. Those eternal stairs! Poor
Netta-it had often made Jumps in my
throat. Very soon now, was think
ing, rs I listened at the door, / would
take her away from the hard life.
What was that? Her fathers deep
voice-and then something queerly like
n sob. Scarcely knowing why, / tip
toed down, holding my breath. Their
parlor door was ajar-partly an invalid.
Baldwin himself, / knew, spent most of
his time lolling by the fire there with
cigar-and just then Meta came out.
She had hand to her forehead, and
looked dazed.
Metal" l called, involuntarily. She
started. waved me back, and passed on.
But Baldwin had heard.
THAT you, Mr.. Marcel? Quite q
stranger! Come in, do! Well, and how
goes the great scheme? Still elusive?
Pooh! Give it and yourself rest"
I hesitated. Generally his intensely
practical nature and good-humored
sneers kept me at distance, but my
head was in whirl that night, and I
seemed to recollect for the first time
that he was really Netta's father.
go up there" ] said, "and you will
find my scheme an assured fact. No,
I'm not mad. In three months from