The Wisconsin tobacco reporter. (Edgerton, Wis.) 1877-1950, 1905-10-27
Her Necklace
IOriginal.1

stroke on the town bell. He listened
and counted two strokes, then pause
then five strokes more. Being familiar
with the fire alarm code, Bob knew
that district % included the home o.
Deacon Chase, and as there were but
half a dozen houses in the district the
deacon's might be the one for which
the alarm was sounded.
Now, Bob's relations with Deacon
Chase were somewhat strained Bob
was in love with Ida, the deacon's
daughter, and, being wild, he was not
an acceptable sutton. He was bright
fellow and only needed to settle down
to take good stand in the world. But
the deacon was not assured that he
would ever settle down and was not to
be blamed for being unwilling to COM
NIT his daughter to SO graceless 81
scamp. Bob had that very afternoon
been forbidden the house.
Be this as it may the young man
threw off the bedc1othes and, throwing
on his body clothes, sailed forth to the
fire. He had not gone far before he
discovered that, true enough, the dea~
cons house was burning. Fearful that
Ida might be in danger, he ran till he
came to the house and was treasured
at seeing her in the front yard with the
others. But just as he was about to
enter the gate he heard her eXclaim.
"My necklacev' And she dashed in at
the front door before any one could
stop her.
The necklace was of coral and not
intrinsically valuable. Bob had given
it to her, and when he saw her run in
to almost certain death to save it his
love famed like the burning building.
He dashed in after her.
The crowd without stopped passing
water and looked on appalled,. The
whole of the house above the second
story was burning, and the two had no
sooner had time to mount the stairs
than the roof over the front fell. That
| was the last seen by the crowd of Bob
| and Ida, and no one doubted that they
had persisted.
The house faced west, and the wind
was from the same quarter. Behind,
not more than a hundred yards from
the back door, ran the river. Ida, too
much excited to heed the smoke that
stood in her way, dashed for her room
at the rear, grasped her necklace Oh
the bureau and, turning, saw Bob.
Without a word be drew her to the
| front staircase, but found it roaring
| with fame. There were no rear stairs.
| so he took Ida to window. The smoke
| was so thick that he could not see the
ground, but, going back to Ida's bed
| room, he took off the blankets from the
bed and tying one of them around her
made a rope of the rest and let her
| to the ground. Then, tying the end Of
| his rope to a bed slat and putting it
| crosswise against the window, he let
| himself down
| Where they stood sheltered by the
lower part of the building they were
| momentarily safe, the smoke and Gin
ders forming a semicircle about them
| above the ground. But Bob knew they
| could not remain there long, so, bun
| ding Ida in the blanket to keep her
! clothes from igniting he took her up
| in his arms and ran with her toward
! the river, intending to escape the heat.
| smoke and cinders by getting into the
| water. But on reaching the bank he
| found a skiff. Without stopping to look
| for oars he put his burden in, Embossed
| the painter, showed off and jumped in
| himself
The current soon carried them be-
| yond danger. The boat was seen from
| the shore, but no one dreamed that
| those in it were the lost ones. The low
ers were obliged to drift with the cur
rent, not having anything with which
| even to guide the boat.
The first proposition was to gain the
| shore as soon as possible, find parson
and be married. but Ida could not
bring herself to marry without her
| fathers consent, and Bob shrank from
| what seemed to him to be taking an
advantage of both father and daughter.
1t was near morning when they passed
| through some reeds, and Bob, catching
| hold of them, succeeded in drawing the
| boat to shore.
| Surprising that they had been seen in
their escape, they did not hurry to re-
turn, stopping at a farmhouse for
breakfast. After breakfast the farmer
harnessed his horses and drove them
home. AS they approached, gang of
men were at work on the debris of the
burned building hunting for their
| corpses, while Deacon Chase stood rue
fully by looking on. His back was
| turned to the road and he did not see
the party coming. Ida, who did not
know of the melancholy hunt they
| were engaged in, sang out:
Father, saved my necklace!'
The deacon turned, saw his daughter,
tottered, gathered his faculties, Ida
gave bound and the two were locked
in each others arms.
after brief explanation the deacon
got into the wagon, pressing Bob's
hand as be did so, and they were
driven to the temporary abode of the