The Kalispell bee. [volume] (Kalispell, Mont.) 1900-192?, 1903-12-15

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gore at a particular time to stran
gers rooms, seized there a letter and
was now looking for stout man in
gray, but when he saw in the thick of
a thrOng of people moving toward a
gate with view toward an outgoing
train stout man in gray suit he ell
bowed his way through until he had
slipped the letter into the pocket of the
man in gray and then dropped back
out of the crowd with the contented
sigh of one whose duty was done. AS
he stood III an open space hopping
his forehead in a daZed sort of way an
other stout man dressed in gray touch
ed his shoulder and said:
You have made a mistake"
GLOW SO? l don't know
"But you are not to be blamed"
"Glad to know it. but l don't see
why might be-
Just then Mr.. Blanchard plunged in,
caught him by an arm and demanded
anXiously, "Wheres that letter." a
query which seemed to stun the young
man. Have you got it,"
NO" said Mr.. Crandall, answering
for him. But you have lost fairly. He
put it in the pocket of a man who an
swered the description. l saw him do
it. It's all right. The fellow looked
like me-"
Its all wrong-the wrong letter. 1t
must be recovered. l wouldn't have
lost it for ten times the bet"
81 don't see how you'll get it, The
gate has closed while we've been talk
ing, the train is gone, and the man is
has been so far as we are concerned"
Mr.. Blanchard said various vehement
things
'He was a cOmmuter. | noticed that
he simply showed a ticket, and that's
all we know about him. And the COM
muters are legions strong"
"The gateman may know him.
They found the gatcman, surly, i'll
conditioned old fellow, but amenable to
the modifying influence of a bank note,
and with some pretended difficulty he
affected to remember with an effort
proportioned to his pay. "Why, yes;
guess the gentleman you want is MIR.
Berdan, who goes to Tarrytown."
They sent telegram after him in
care Of the conductor of the train ana
from Spuyten Duyvil got an answer
back:
"No letter in possession that doesn't
belong to me. Know nothing about it,"
"1Icavens, Crandall.' exclaimed Mr..
Blanchard, drawing his friend aside
1T was from the Widow Kitely. You
know enough to imagine how impor-
tant it may be to me. And it's LOST
Il don't see what's the Use in getting
excited about it. She can write you
another"
"Will she? TO man so careless
and stupid as to lose in such an idiotic
way a letter that
$50 and tell her all about it. She has
sense. 1t will be all right. Probably
she will tell you what she has written.
and that may be even more agreea-
be-
IL must. There's nothing else to be
done"
Mrs. Myra Kitely was an exceedingly
charming young woman, a plump but
not fat brunette whose widowhood had
in her estimation lasted very much
longer than law and society gave her
credit for. even longer perhaps than
she deemed reasonably her due. Her
husband, Jack, had been such scapc-
grace that they had separated good
twelvemonth at least before his thirsty
and rackety career closed, and even his
creditors had generally forgotten him
by the time she learned of his demise,
which occurred while she was in Eu-
rope. The steamer that brought her
back to New York also brought Mr..
James Blanchard, and ever since she
had known herself widow he had
been doing his best to persuade her
that protractcd period of even con
ventional mourning for such Il husband
us Jack was uncallcd for, if not actual
| ly absurd. In her heart she agreed
with him, but the fear of what people
would say" kept her in half mourning
and postponed her acceptance of the
standing offer of his heart and hand.
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Of reward, and there came time when
the pretty widow coyly promised to
give him her answer by letter. And
that was the letter he had lost.
Mr.. blanchard had little doubt of its
purport. He was at least as happily
confident as an anXiously eXpectant
suitor has any reasonable right to be,
but to lose her sweet consent and as
surance of her love in this ridiculous
way was eXasperating, and he did not
doubt she would punish him little for
1t by Il coQuettish revival of his doubts
and fears. His worst anticipations
were more than realized
Meekly, dcprecatingly, he told his
tale of woe, and though he felt how
sad it was, the way in which she re-
teived it surprised and even puzzled
him. She paled, blushod rosy red and
finally burst into tears. In vain he be-
sought her to tell what was in the let
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