The Spokane press. [volume] (Spokane, Wash.) 1902-1939, 1907-08-01
The Daily
Short Story
THE SCOOP THAT FAILED

iCpoIt cTS VIII are DOTH, UOI mdQe.
From his earliest copy-carrying
days he had made the police world
his own, studying it's characters
and exploring it's sinister ways I'M
til its atmosphere had become his
very breath of life. It's monotOnous
routine never dulled his enthu-
| siasm; its work, however slavish,
never found him conscious of ia
tigue. When he reported nothing
doing" on story it meant just
that.
Then, one summer, Mark went
away for his vacation. 1t was the
| first time he had ever done So
just two-week jaunt on the lakes;
but when he came back he was
changed. He had seen a new world,
and somehow the luster of the old
seemed dimmed. Former haunts
lost their lure, and he would sit for
hours at headquarters, with his feet
on the press table, and dream
dream-dream.
Those cold, blue northern
waters; the fragrant freshness of
the winds; the green-ribbed shores
that glinted in the mist-strained
light-how he had enjoyed them
all! Such delightful people, too!
And She-ah, She was best of all!
Her eyes-how beautiful-deeper
and bluer than the lakes them
selves! Sometimes they were veil
ed as with the moisture of tears;
once or twice he had seen them
glow with the sunlight of smiles.
She had spoken scarcely a dozen
words to him, yet the memory of
Her had Lated womanhood to
loftier heights of reverence, cloth
ing even the commonest police
court drab with an inviolability
that transformed her from a jest
to an object of pity. 1t had been
all too brief-he might never see
Her again.
Just such dream it was that the
city editor of the Sentinel inter-
rupted l afternoon about a month
after Marks return.
Here's tip from Detroit on a
big story he snapped over the
telephone. Morgan, the defaulting
bank cashier is believed to be hid
ing here. Detectives have found a
letter mailed to his relatives from
314 Denman place Get out on it
right away and play it for big ex-
clusive!'
All Of Marks news faculties
leaped to quick responsiveness and
his blood tingled with the love of
excitement as he set out upon his
quest. And luck was with him, for
the proprietress of the boarding
house at 314 Denman place was
none other than Maude Wicherly,
whom he knew as maker of past
police history.
at won't get You anything to
throw me down on this" Mark
urged significantly, when she de-
MED having any guest named Nor
gan Then she suddenly remem-
bered that man on the third floor
by the name of Stephens had re-
ceived letters from Detroit-he
might be the person sought.
Mark promptly found the door,
which, after an interval of knock
ing, was cautiously opened by a
small, pale man with iron gray
hair.
How do you do, Mr.. Morgan?"
began Mark. CURLY, pushing his
way into the room.
The man started back in speech
less fright, his face blanching be-
fore the reporters accusing gaze.
Who are you" he finally gasped.
I'm a detective, come to take
you back to Detroit, so you'd bet
ter make a clean breast of the
whole business.
Mark advanced Stephen
stopped as if paralyzed. He closed
his eyes convulsively, but when he
opened them the vision was still
there-not as in his dreams and
memories-yet Enthusiastically She!
A wild fear burned in her widen
ed eyes, as she halted in the door
way of the adjoining room.
"Mr. Everett" she murmured.
Then she dropped quickly on her
knees beside the old man, who was
now sitting with his face buried in
ulo uulFclIHS udiuS. WHAT 10 ~,
papa?" she asked, TREMENDOUSLY.
That same sense of guilt and
shame which he had pictured in
the other mans heart now over
whelmed Mark. Il didn't know
he was your father" he faltered.
you told-you see, | thought your
name" He hesitated. Her alb
ject helplessness unnerved him. If
he could only spare her the
humiliation oof knowing that he
knew.
81 was looking for someone else
and-and made mistake" he con-
tinued, in firmer, strangely lender
tones. But this is no place for
you. You and your father must
leave here at once. Let me help
you, won't your" And the girl
YEARLY lifted 2 impotent little
hands to him.
Before the passed out into the
twilight, Mark stepped close to the
Wicherly woman. IF you want
me to forget some things | know"
he whispered, "just forget that
these people were ever here"
What about that Morgan