Danville intelligencer. [volume] (Danville, Pa.) 1859-1907, 1905-05-12
The One
Letter
By
CLAIMING POLLOCK
CLAIMING POLLOCK
Copyright, 1904, by Claiming Pollock

After tney ndu COlue " uH uhoei
standing Frank Claxton took Virginia
Carter to dinner at Giovanfs. This un-
derstandng, the result of many misun-
derstandings, put an end to their en-
gagement, and they chose to hold the
wake over their dead love at the tiny
restaurant where it had been born.
Neither talked much during the meal,
and when either spoke, for some rea-
son not easily explained it was in
very low tone. The man said, Il sup
pose had better return your lettersT
There must be a great many Of
them" responded the girl, the corners
of her mouth trembling into faint
smile.
Eyes. In-in three years.
II shall send yours tomorrow-that
is, l shall send all but one should like
to keep one-in memoriam. May II"
"If may"
"Certainly. "A fair exchange you
know"
ClaXton left her at the door of her
apartment something less than an hour
later On the way to his own home he
marveled that he should regret what
had happened so little. The petty quar-
res of the past few moaths had worn
out his endurance, he thought, and rem
dered him Indifferent to their culmina-
ton. He wondered how she felt about
it. At all events, the separation would
leave him with more time-more time
to work, more time to devote to the
pin hn nd
begun caring for her.
In the matter of the quarrelS he did
not consider himself bameless. He
realized this, and admired hims Sf bit
Tor the Inherent generosity which pre-
vented his holding her solely to ac-
count
Claxton reached his place" in rather
relieved frame of mind. He opened
the door with key fastened to silver
ring that she had given him on his
birthday and walked straight across
the library to his typewriter. Beside
the machine was a tiny cushion she
had made for him to rest his elbow
upon when he was reading copy" He
recalled that it had come wrapped in
numberless pieces of paper, each one
inclosed inside the other, like the eggs
in n Chinese puzzle. That was about
the time that the interest aroused by
his tale of Central American life had
opened the hearts of editors toward
him.
Somehow the detective story he had
intended to begin did not fly from his
finger tips as speedily as he had eX-
pected The first paragraph, after
writing which, he told himself, things
would go better, stood alone on the
page, a succession of stilted and unin-
viting sentences.
Not in the mood" he confessed at
last and stroled down Broadway to his
club. The boy at the door didn't know
him, and when,' after satisfying the stu
pid fellow of his membership, he saun-
| tered into the lounging room he was
| in an exceedingly unpleasant humor
| Parsons been here this evening"" he
| inquired brusquely of an attendant.
mo, sir" replied the man. ''He does
| not come very often now, sir. Married.
| l believe"
Claxton cursed Parsons from the bot
tom of his soul.
| "Graham?" he asked.
| "Mr. Graham was in about week
ago. We don't see him more than once
a fortnight"
"Funny," mused Claxton. "By George
wonder il there's any one IN the
| place"
There was, in the writing room
| Frederick Ford Ferguson, youth just
| coaXing n timorous mustache into eX
| istence and tolerated only for the sake
! of his father Major Ferguson, former
ly of the Ninth infantry. ClaXtor
would gladly have passed the young
ster by but he was hailed before ht
could regain the hall.
"Stop bit, old chap. | want to reat
YOU Il line I'm sending to friend OF
mine at Days. Rather clever letter
you know"
Claxton tore himself away and wen'
back home. What was Miss Carter do
ing? He would have wagered q nun
dred that Phelps had called and taker
her out. Confound Phelps!
The story went more smoothly, stm
ulated by the resentful energy OF 1t!
| auTnor. rTUIn ~ ut1ocn un,n ncurry
daylight the typewriter clicked inces'
sanity. When it stopped clicking, seven
pages of manuscript, much marred by
pencil marks, lay on the table near AT
hand. 1t was good story he felt sure
| although there were two or three de-
l tah l,N hnN We
liked a conservative opinion. I'll take
| Virginia out for luncheon and read il
to her." he thought. Then he remen
bered that they had agreed never tc
see each other again-voluntarily, tina,
is.
The day. which began with his rising
at noon, dragged along monotonously
1t was hard to realize that he might
not speak to her over the telephone that
stood on his desk and harder still to bt
convinced that she would not call hin
up. Toward midafternoon Claxton un
locked drawer and took out the nin'
packages of her letters that represent
ed a correspondence of three years. Ht
must choose the one letter and return
the rest to her.
To do this he must read every epls
tie in the nine bundles. ClaSton, il
common with most men who write ol
act, was sentimentalist, and he want
ed that the one letter should be thu
dearest of all. The first that met hi.
eye he laid aside in the belief that i
would prove the dearest. Miss Garter
had penned it when he lay Ill of fevel
at San Jose de Guatemala. "Your ca
bic was repeated to me ut Chicago,
was the message "Otherwise | should
have been with you now. l know thai
If your illness continued you woult
need nurse. and | felt that | coulC
not delegate to strangers the privileg,
of attending you" 1t was womanly
letter-the letter of woman mature IL
heart and brain-and Claxton ponderet
long while before putting it aside.
Next came telegram, sent to hi.
apartments before the telephone hat