Heppner gazette. [volume] (Heppner, Morrow County, Or.) 1892-1912, 1904-03-24
A Nights Comradeship

I'VE WAS in a city of 1000, 900 souls,
III but he knew none of them. He
did not know the name of street;
there was not one light, however feeble,
among all the lights of the town that
shOne for him. Indeed he was not
sure that in all the world light was
Lii with thought of him. Perhaps-it
might be, remotely and indefinitely
that q certain distant, feeble CLEAN in
{. town thousand miles away lit with
some faint of his return. But, after all,
il was improb bable. 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, scorn-
ful Of old friends and neighbors, and
bent upon his own obstinate, willful
way. The result was a step downward
"a step which precipitated. Then
the punishment-brief but shameful
and now liberty again and no knowl-
edge of what to do with it.
The icy rain that fell, the wind that
SIdDDGu Ills 1dCb Nllll CldlllllN anu Ill
sulting hands, the cruel hardness of
1he 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 a welcome from every man
and woman, boy and girl, dog and
horse. 1t was as much lost to him
now, that cordiality and friendliness,
as if those who had offered it were
people of another globe. Except al
ways-but, no, he would not trust him
self to think of that one possible ex-
ception, of that one light which burned,
perhaps, for him.
He did not know where to go. He
mad 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 dark
ness. Yet where else could he go? He
must be careful with the few dollars
that were in his pocket. They were
hateful dollars-the dole of the state
to its offending child. He had no
sooner assured himself of the need for
the scrupulous guarding of this treas
IRE than he was seized with a passion
ate impulse to cast it from him in
the gutter. The money used should
come TO his hands fresh from toll and
liberty! But saner thought impelled
him not only to retain the money, but
10 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 APP |
peared to be the evil, yawning mouth |
of the night but which proved, upon
closer examination, to be a large |
burned building, ice-coated, grimy, |
desolate. Hardly realizing the poor
ness of his choice, he turned in here
W wondering if he could not find some
place out of the wind where he could
spend the night.
The place was far from being a
complete ruin, as he soon saw, and he
stumbled finally against a fight of
stairs. They were intact, and he
climbed them cautiously and came
upon a great wareroom, stripped of all
that had once occupied it, but in a
state of only partial ruin. At the end
IF this great room he discovered a
small apartment which had evidently
oeen used for an Office. The glow from
a neighboring arc light showed him
hat the room was unharmed. lie en-
-ered and looked about him. An old
fireplace with a hideous mottIed iron
was at one side. Two common
sbajrs remained, and there was shade
II the window. William Rhoda took it
Ipon himself TO laugh. Actually, the