The Topeka state journal., 1900-06-16
A NIGHTS COMRADESHIP.
[F7rom the Chicago Tribune. l


but he knew none of them. He did not
know the name of a street; there was
not one light, however feeble, among all
the lights of the town that ShOne for
hlIn. Indeed. he was not sure that in
all the world a light was lit with
thought OF him. Perhaps-it might be,
remotely and indefinitely-that a GER
tain distant, feeble CLEAN in a town a
thousand miles away was lit with some
faint hope of his return But, after all,
1t was improbable. He had done moth
ing to deserve affectionate memory. He
had been ungrateful to those who had
raised him, selfish and bitter to the girl
who might have loved him, scornful of
old friends and neighborS, and bent
upon his own obstinate, Willful way.
The result was step downward-a step
which preeipitatedi Then the punish
ment-brief but shameful-and now
liberty again and no knowledge of what
to do with it.
The icy rain that fell, the wind that
slapped his face with clammy and in
sulting hand, the cruel hardness OF the
paved streets the impregnable look of
the city walls appalled, him. In spite
of his arrogant putting down of the
thought he could not but remember
the village. which he had held in such
contempt, but where, once. he would
have had welcome from every man
and woman, boy and girl, dog and
horse. 1t was as much lost to him now,
that cordiality ana friendnness, as if
those who had offered it were people
of another globe. Except always-but
no, he would not trust himself to think
of that one possible exception, of that
one light which burned, perhaps, for
him
He did not know where to go. He
had a horror Of going to any place that
might be inhabited by such dark spirits
as those he had just left in their cap
tivity. He had had enough of darkness.
Yet where else could he go2 He must
be careful with the few dollars that
were in his pocket. They We're hateful
dCllars-the dole of the state to its Of
Tending child. He had no sooner as
sured himself of the need for the scrup-
ulous guarding of this treasure than he
to cast 1t from him in the gutter The
money he used should come to his hands
fresh from toll and liberty But
saner thought impelled him not only
to retain the money, but to place it in
a small pocket in his flannel shirt under
his vest
He was growing cold and sleepy. The
thoughts that had beaten in his brain
wild, tiger thoughts that fretted and
paced and would not lie Quiet-had
worn him out. The need for rest was
upon him imperatively- He looked
about him for some corner in which he
could creep for a short time, and he
saw by his side what at first appeared
to be the evil, yawning mouth of the
night, but which proved, upon closer
examination, to be a large burned
building, ice-cOated, grtny, desolate.
Hardly realizing the pOOrnesS of his
choice, he turned in here and CROPPED
about amid the debris. wondering if he
could not find some place out of the
wind where he could spend the night.
The place was far from being COM
plete ruin, as he soon saw, and he STUN
bled finally against a flight of stairs
They We're intact, and he climbed them
cautiously and came upon a great ware
room. stripped of all that had once Oc-
ruin. AT the end of this great room he
discovered a small apartment which
had evidently been used for an office.
The glow from a neighOOFlnG arc light
showed him that the room was unharm-
ed. He entered and looked about him
An old fireplace with a htdeous mottled
iron mantel was at one side. Two COM
mon chairs remained, and there was
shade at the window. William Rhoda
took it upon himself to laugh. Actually,
the place seemed homelike. compared
with those relentless streets.
He had an idea-a bold one. He
crept down among the debris and gath
cred an armful of half burned wood,
and with this he returned to the little
room Then he drew the shade, closed
the door. and proceeded to light him
a fire It was incredible-the comfort
of it, He warmed himself before it,
chucklirg with delight.
1T is really gorgeous" said he aloud.
"Ain't it?'' responded voice.
facing the door. A man with a gaunt
face looked in.
Room enough fer two?" he inquired.
Rhodas heart was beating at his ears.
4 shall probably be killed. he re-
nected, and remembering with anger
that he had no weapon of any sort not
even a pocket knife. The other man
entered and closed the door behind
him, standing with his back to it. He
was short and rather stout, and his
head sat almost upon his shoulders.
| His heavy nose and mouth bespoke an
obstinate but not particularly lima
natured temperament. His eyes We're
Sunken in his head, but RhCda could
see that they We're black and singular1y
sharp in their expression. The feet of
the man protruded from his shoes, and
his clothes were in a ragged and filthy
state. He took his hat from his head
and dashed the moisture from it.
I guess yer givin' a house warmin'
amt YEP he asked, smiling in as re-
assuring a manner as possible I've
been leggfn' it fer eighteen hours and
I'm fit to drop"
Rhoda would never have encountered
all of those embarrassments which had
made him an outcast if he had not been
of a whimsical temperament. Now,
/ Suddenly. his fear deserted him. He de-
! sired an adventure. 1t certainly had
] beer devoid of adventure in the place
! of his residence for the last two years
lie held out his hand.
! Come IN, said he. There are two
chairs and fire enough for forty. 1t is
d pity 1 cannot give you something to
eat and drink"
He was smiling, and actually. for a
moment, the glow went through him
like that which comes from the ex-
ercise of hospitality The other man
/ advanced almost jauntily
We'll. I call this white!" he said in
+ commendatiOn. You're a gentleman,
I ken see that, if you are down ON your
luck"
Don't speak like that, please" said
! Rhoda lightly 4 was just making up
| my mind to forget it for a time"
Eth? Well that's a good idee. Some
thing to eat and drink, did yeh say?
| Man, I've got it.''
MOI
Here yeh are" He took two slices
/ of 7ria hi