The Jersey City news., 1905-10-28
Her Necklace



stroke on the town bell. He listened
and counted two strokes, then pause,
then fiye strokes more. Being familiar
with Sae fire alarm code, Bob knew
that district 25 included the home OF
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 suitor 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 80 graceless q
scamp. Bob had that very afternoon
been forbidden the house.
Be this as 1t may, the young man
threw of the bedclothes 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 reassured
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 necklacep 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 cunning 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 perished.
The house faced west and the wind
was from the same quarter. Behind,
not more than 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 on
the bureau and, turning, saw Bob.
Without a word he drew her to the
front staircase, but found 1t 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 of the blankets from the
bed and tying one of them around her
made rope Of the rest and let her
to the ground Then, tying the end Of
his rope to bed slat and putting 1t
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 cin-
ders forming a semicircle about them
above the ground. But Bob knew they
could not remain there long, so, bum
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 slxiff. Without stopping to look
for oars he put his burden in, unloosed
the painter, showed of 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 1t 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.
Supposing 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 zee
the party coming. Ida, who did NOT
know Of the melancholy hunt they
We're engaged in, sang out:
Father, saved my necklacev
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 he did SO, and they were
driven to the temporary abode OF the
family, where similar surprise was
In store for the mother and sisters
Then, when it was all over, Bob, with
assumed modesty, withdrawing, said:
Il beg your pardon, deacon. have
no right here, according to your or
| ders, and l must apologize for tres.