The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1903-07-14

got ready to tell them. He did not even
take his brother into his confidence, for
Wallace kept store and gossiped very much
with his customers. Besides, he was very
busy just then selling out, for he was
going to the Klondike with William, and
he had too much on his mind to be both
cred, or so William said. All this must
tell you or you will never understand the
temptation which assailed me when. hav-
ing returned to Washington, awoke to
my own position and the kind of men
whom + could now hope to meet. I was
the wife-oh, the folly Of it-but this was
known to so few. and those were so far
removed, and one evening" friend Sadie
being dead-why not ignore the miser-
able secret ceremony and cheat myself in
to believing myself free. and enjoy this
world of pleasure and fashion as Cora was
enjoying 1t antitrust. Trust what? Why,
the sKlondike. That swallower- of men,
Why shouldn't it swallow one more-Oh
I know that it sounds hateful But I was
desperate; I had seen you.
Il had one letter from him after he
reached Alaska, but that was before I
left Owosso. I never got another. And
never wrote to him. He told me not to do
so until he could send me word how and
where to write; but when these directions
came my heart had changed and
my only wish was to forget his ex-
istence. And did forget tt-al-
most. 7 rode md "anced with you a,
went hithar ana yon, la. Ishins .orey md
time AID heart N f1iv"li'ies which came
in my way, calling myself Veronica and
striving by this means to crush out every
remembrance of the days when I was
known as Antoinette and Antoinette only.
For the l<londike was far and it's weather
bitter, and men were dying there every
day, and no letters came Il used to thank
God for this), and need not think-nor
! yet-whither I was tending. One thing
| o.11Yy a.
| That was when your eyes turned on mine
your true eyes, so bright with confidence
and pride. I wanted to meet them full,
| and when I could not, I suddenly knew
| why, and suffered.
| do you remember the night when we
stood together on the balcony at the Ocean
View house and you laid your hand on my,
| arm and wondered why I persisted in
looking at the moon instead Of into your
| expectant face? 1t was because the
music then being played within recalled
| another night and the pressure Of another
hand on my arnl-a hand whose touch I
| hoped never to feel again, but which at
that moment was so much more palpable
than yours that I came near screaming
| aloud and telling you in one rush Of mad
| dened emotion my whole abominable
secret 's.
| II did not accept your attentions nor
agree to marry you, without struggle.
| else can, how I held back and asked for
time and still for time, thus grieving
you and tearing my own breast till a day
came-you remember the day when you
found me laughing like a mad woman in
a circle Of astonished friends? You drew
me aside and said words which I hardly
waited for you to finish, for at last I was
free to love you, free to love and free to
| say The morning papers had brought
news. A Geographic dispatch from Seattle
| told how a man had struggled into Nome,
frozen, bleeding, and without accoutre-
ments companion. 1t was with diff
Guilty he had kept his feet and turned in
at the first tent he came to. Indeed, he
had only time to speak his name before
| he fell dead. This name was what made
this dispatch important to- me. It was
| William Pfeiffer. For me there was but
one William Pfeiffer in the Klondike-my
husband-and he was dead! That was
why you found me laughing. But not in
mirth. I am not so bad as that; but be-
cause I could breathe again without feel
ing clutch about my throat. I did not
know ill then how nearly had been
stifed. ~.
!. 1--WE were not long in marrying after
, that. I was terrified at delay, not be-
cause I feared any contradiction of the
report which had given this glorious re.
lease, but because I dreaded lest some
, hint Of my early folly should reach yor
+ anu dim the pIlQ0 WIFI WHICH you re-
garded me. I wanted to feel myself yours
so closely and so dearly that you would
not mind If any enc told you that I hac
, once cared, or thought I had cared, fol-
another. The week Of our marriage came
I was mad with gaiety and ecstatic with
, hope Nothing had occurred to mar my
prospects. No letter from Denver-nt
memento from the Klondike, no word ever
from Wallace who had gone north with
his brother. Soon should be called wife
again, but by lips I loved, and to whose
language my heart thrilled. The past, al
. ways vague, would soon be no more thar
a forgotten dream-an episode quite
! closed. I could afford from this momen
! on to view life like other girls and re-
, joice In my youth and the love which
! every day was becoming more and more
to me. -. - t-
r But God had His eye upon me, and il
tho midst Of my happiness and the hurr!
t Of our final preparations His bolt fell. I
struck me while I was at the-don'
laugh; rather shudder-at the dressmak
e er's shop in Fourteenth street. wa
-, leaning over a table, chattering like
t magpie over the way I wanted a gown
e trimmed, when my eye fell on scrap o
e newspaper in which something had com
h rolled to madame. It was torn at tn
e edge. but on the bit lying under my eye
: I saw my husbands name, William
0 Pfeiffer, and that the paper was a Den
y yer one. There was but one William
: Pfeiffer in Denver-and he was my hus
:. band. And I read-feeling nothing. The
n read again, and the world, my world
g went from under my feet: for the ma
!. who had fallen dead in the camp at Nom
:, was Wallace, Williams brother, and nc
: William himself. William had been lei
behind on the road by his more energeti
% brother, who had pushed on for succc
= thru the worst storm and under the wors
u conditions possible even in that God for
g saken region. With the lost one in mine
't the one word that Wallace uttered in sigh
- Of rescue, was William. A hope was es
pressed of finding the latter alive and