Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1899-01-06


tonight before thcraper ; oat:' And the
news editor n,rvuusiy rolled and I'M
roll d the copy he hold.
"WE,n H. says he'll do Il thing. he
dos ii. >" said Fraw!cy. The managing
editor, who WAS covering tao pages be-
furc hiin with llGc lines frcan his fash
ing pencil until they i. l.cd like maps
Of railroad that followed an inconse-
qucnt course and met in labyrinth.
Ammo locked at the clock. 1t was
after ~. Til" pencil dr, iped from her
tinG' rs and She pulled the shade from
above her tired eyes. Since she had
h. II writing i'll Il race against time, and
now, her work completed, she was
tingling wiki fatigue.
1t was the LIST Of November. Tho
summ, T, unlike any other of her life,
seemed far away Made up Of dusty,
fevori-h days and happy nights, it was
past, like Il sleep. Through the window
lcforo her she could see the fog drip
ping over the city, IA curtain of SCOTT
ness, its folds breaking on the angles CT
houses, &c lights Of the town white
splashc5 on the haze. The world looked
sullon, as if choked under that scoty
pail into submission AMI silence. And
yet mono knew better than she, sitting
alott among tho chrGniclers, of the
snarl among the unhappy, of the tur-
MOL and crime seething there, and the
ambition which spared no brother for
the uprising of self.
Ii had been day of extraordinary
c!iinaxes. a murder i'll high places had
Mortified the city. The political strug-
gle was hurrying to crisis. The latest
kilograms told of disastrous floods in
ono state and strike of many thou
sand miners in another.
AS result there were tonight more
striking Of bells and dragging sound of
hurrying feet than were usual even dur
ing the exciting hours just previous to
the paper going to press. There was ex-
rectancy ON the absorbed faces. Unrest
hung in the air like Il 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 DO 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 Platt's
Peak. l don't want that assignment.
Starving miners are not much in my
way"
~ thought not" said Anne dryly,
gathering together the copy headed
1.-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 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! 1 was made
for it. BY the way, Miss Garrick, why
don't you 90 on the stage? Beastly work
this for pretty girll''
Anne was not listening to him. Lean.
ing her elbow Oh the back of the chair,
her hand curved like a cup to support
her chin, she was looking at Donald
Sefain, who had just come in.
There he was, shabby, silent, a recluse
among the alert crowd. The discomfort
IN his worn eyes, his hopeless but un-
conquered air, seemed now as always
like minor, passionate phrase woven
unfittingly into the fourishes Of hack
neyed tune.
She wondered if she would ever know
him, ever learn just what sinuosities of
character, what experiences, had made
him the creature he was. This wish
had begun to tinge her days. Nothing,
however, seemed more unlikely. They
had not exchanged a word. He held aloof
from her as from every one else.
Look at that beast Sefain, mutter-
ed Bradley.
"Why do you cali him that?" And
Anne turned sharply upon him.
"Lock at his clothes.'
They're not like the Duke of Stock
bury's, are they!"
besides he drinks. ! saw him drunk
once in this very room. It was last
spring, I think. His eyes were frightful
that day. I expected to have good
story about his suicide next morning.
But fellows like him never kill them.
selves"
Anne. moved away and stood near
Frawley's desk, just as Donald went up
to him.
81 want to do the pictures for the
Platt's Peak strike" she heard him say
in his surly, Indifferent tone.
"Mr. Temple attends to that" said
Frawley, strolling over to watch the
kilograms coming in like mad.
"But I can't wait to zee him unless
he comes within five minutes. / wish
you'd tell him I'd like to 60 to Plat g
Peak. don't suppose there'll be rush
for the place anyway"
Odd fussy about his minutes for
a beggar, thought Frawley, but an.
swered in colorless voice, "All right"
Donald slouched over to his desk and
picked up his hat. He had neared the
door when Frawley, peering over che
operators shoulder at the wire, uttered
q cry.
Good Godl"
CONSERVATION and suspense fell upon
the place. It was as if a full heart had
IA II II1s5