Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1903-03-21
mte
Reform er
BY CHARLES NJ SHELDON
u Author Of I'm His Steps, Robert (
.3.s Hardy's Seven Days." Etc. -
s9s1-e. 49, srg-
Copyright, 1901, bu Charles N. Sheldon, Z
CONTINUED.
Copyright, 1901. by Charles N. Sheldon

w
: believe anyway? My whole life has
contradicted my creed. But maybe
there's hope for me yet What do you
think? Am too bad to repent and be
savedY'
>5 John Gordon stared at his friend, and
- moment his own deep, abiding, re-
'1ig1ous experience reminded him that
mere was a soul cropping after light.
David" he exclaimed softly, mo
one is too bad to repent and be saved.
Oh, David, Christ makes all life worth
while"
~ believe that" the reply came in a
Hsper. owe never said much, John,
but I've tried to-
The usually cynical voice actually
Broke with sob that cut John Gordon
deep, although in that tense moment
which had come on so swiftly there
was a fierce JOY at the confession his
8ciend had made.
He bent over and put a hand on Bar
tons, and they sat thus silent for a
gracious moment. It was significant
that neither of them had said word
about Barton's physical condition and
has hopeless future, so far as physical
life was concerned. The stiffness in
the room was suddenly Interrupted by
a clang out OH the street.
Gordon went over to the window and
looked out.
'"The department is making a fine
Tun," he said briefly to Barton.
1t was late and the avenue was al
most empty of traffic. A team Of pure
white horses on the engine which pre-
~ceded the hose and ladder wagons
plunged forward with a desperate but
glad abandon that struck fire from the
pavement and whir!cd the engine along
with mad but glorious energy that
made human blood run faster and kept
the pulses beating with sympathy. The
driver and his. assistant leaned for
ward, their bare heads tossing their
free hair behind; the whole scene
Rashed by in the night like bit torn
out of Roman chariot race of the
dead past, transformed by chance to
the modern municipality. whose streets
are lighted with electricity, and whose
Buildings loom up in the smoky air
, Hike crags beside the prairie sea-
The whirling group swept around the
-eerner at the end OF the next block,
Stacking speed Just enough to avoid
stunning over. john Gordon came back
to Dayid's side.
"Where is the fIe?"
81 didn't notice the alarm. Must have
been still one"
'Have yoa ever thought what would
happen, John, if a fire ever got a good
chance around Hope House?"
Shave I? think OF it every time I
go into the double decker. They are
simply traps. If fire ever started in
the basement Of No. 81, it+would be a
aaairacie il anybody got out alive"
''Hev about Hope House itself?" The
question showed uneasiness.
L.. slope House is dry old shell in
side It would go like tinder'
/ '"The fire tonight is not down that
way?"
= "No; tho teams turned up Favell
street"
"Is No. 81 any worse than other num-
bers?"
"No; it's better in some ways. But
there's bakery in the basement. They
fry greasy doughnuts over a cracked
stove. One drop of grease catching
fire in the place might sweep a score
of children into eternity
8 "They'd be better off in eternity than
In the tenement, wouldn't they? Maybe
the best thing you could do would be to
pray for No. 81 to catch on fire when
the Winds just right"
John Gordon made no answer, and
Barton asked drowsily:
Z . ,5s How about Mr.. Marsh? You dropped
me a line about the probability of his
having an interest in helping Miss An
drews financially"
Mr.. Marsh is the landlord Of No.
81" -.~.
. 1.Sho! You don't sayw The voice
was awake again: ."'Then the amount
of his contribution to social settlements
3 is not yet made public?' -
5s #.=s Mr::sMarsh has been with me through
the. district today. He saw his own
tenement for the first time" -. = -. .
That's a good story; tell me about
1T" The voice was again drowsy.
ITS too late, David" Gordon remon-
strated. a::-..f~ tx :#-.>r= g. IT,. y 4: s
Mott isn't. I'm going to sleep here.
II often do. 1t starts the cough if get
up again. I'm comfortable. You'll
stay sA night? You know your room.
DO, that's q good fellow. I may want
you to help me harness up the cough
In the morning. :" .
s; I'll stay. II, you want me to.
Are you comfortable there? p q L.
cry much so, old man. Go ahead
with Mr.. Marsh. =.zsG=s;.5s Il
Gordon had not talked five minutes
before Barton was asleep, an unnat-
s1ral slumber, more like death than
healthy refreshing of Wearied powers.
His whole attitude was that Of COM
blete exhauytio ion. The seal Of death
was upon him. 5sss..
ohm Gordon stoppe talking, and the
tears rolled down his cheeks. David
Barton was the dearest friend he had.