Ottumwa semi-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1899-1903, 1900-07-24

who sat with her elbow on the table
! and her chin in her hand thinking.
"Will you go with me, dear?" Nal.
com asked quietly.
| She rose without word and, put.
ting on her hat and cloak, went out
with hirs. They walked out of the
yard, and then, after moment of hest
tation, they turned and went down the
narrow board sidewalk toward the
| main street of the town.
1t was almost IL o'clock. Nearly
all the stores were closed, but every
saloon was wide open. AS they went
by one of the largest on the first bust
ness corner two or three men near the
door recognized Kirk and touched
their hats, saying very respectfully as
they did so, Good evening, Mr.. Kirk
"Good evening, gentlemen" replied
Malcolm, touching his hat. He passed
on with Dorothy, but with all the in
ner conflict going on she had time to
think of the little incident and say to
herself proudly, Even the loafers and
drinkers respect my husband"
And it was true, because they knew
In their hearts that Malcolm Kirk low
ed them, wretched, useless creatures
as many of them were, down at the
very bottom of the human scale, down
where nothing but love could reach
them.
AS they went past one of the dance
houses they could hear the jingle of
spurs on boots, the wild laughter of
the women and the clink of glasses at
the bar
Dorothy shuddered and drew up clos
er to Malcom. To both Of them it Is
probable that there was borne in upon
them the lost abandoned life that al
ways goes with the liquor trade, the
desperate, lawless character of young
men and women who represented SO
large a part of the social life of the
town. What relief it would be to
get away from it all, back to the cul-
ture and refinement of books and COM
panionable people and the life of free
dom from moral struggle for the life
of others that awaited them in that
New England home that might be
theirs for the taking!
They had walked through the street
and were out on the prairie road before
either Of them said word.
Then Malcolm said, while he pressed
Dorothy's arm close to his own:
What do you think had better do?'
She was not prepared to have him
ask question, and she was not ready
with an answer.
What would you do in my placer
he asked after waiting for her to an
swer his first question.
Don't ask me, Malcom," cried Doro-
| thy almost tearfully.
He bent his head and In the starlight
saw her face moved with unusual ex-
| citement.
ut is true" he began to talk to him
self, lit is true, as he says, the press is
as powerful as the pulpit in these
days. could certainly do as much
| good that way as any. I feel as If 1
could use my pen for the good of hui
mainly"
Eyes, yes" Dorothy cried eagerly.
She spoke as if Malcom's words had
been great relief to her. Then she
went on almost passionately:
what can you do here, Malcolm
| You can slave yourself to death out
here with this little church and never
accomplish much. You cannot do the
church work and the writing too. You
| will break down under it. How can
| you ever build again, with the hard
! times and SO many families moving
away and winter coming on? And
your salary. little as it is, so cruelty de-
| layed, it Is humiliation to keep on
this narrow. pinched life. with no COM
| partnership to speak of, no money to
buy new books, with dead lift on a
poor struggling church that will wear
| your life out before you have reached
your prime. l don't mind for myself,
Malcom, you know. 1t was for bet
| ter, for worse, for richer, for poorer,
but 1t seems to me your life viii be
simply thrown away if you remain out
here. Such an offer as this will not
come to you again probably. If were
you
She stopped. and Malcolm eagerly
waited for the rest.
IF | were you" Dorothy went on
strongly, 81 would answer the letter at
once and accept the offer. want to
see you succeed in life. want to
have the world know your strength as
do"
He made no reply, and they walked
| on little farther. Then Malcolm
spoke as if again reasoning with him
self:
81 certainly could do as much good
that way as any"
He was silent again. They had
reached a place where the road branch
ed off to "The Forks" They turned
and went back toward the town. When
they reached the first houses. they took
the street which led past the ruins of
| the church and parsonage. They seem
ed to do this without saying TO eacr
other that they would. Their wall
| back had been in silence.
| When they reached the corner where
the church and parsonage had stood
they stopped and looked at the ruins.
These were mournful, as such ruins
IL