Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-05-05
CHAPTER VIII.
A Last Revolt.

It proved a restless day, and sufficiently
unpleasant one, for Mr.. Hampton. For a
number of years he had been diligently
training himself in the school of cynicism,
endeavoring to persuade himself that he
did not in the least care what others
thought, nor how his own career ended; i'm
pelling himself to constant recklessness in
life and thought. He had thus successfully
built up a wall between the present and
that past which long haunted his lonely
moments and had finally decided that 1t
was Theoretically sealed. Yet now, this odd
chit of a girl, this wait whom he had
plucked from the Jaws of death, had over
turned this carefully constructed barrier as
IL it had been originally built of mere card
board and he was compelled again to see
himself loathe himself, just as he had in
those past years.
den entrance into his life, everything ex-
cent those unfortunate conditions which
still bound him helpless. He looked upon
the world no longer through his cool, gray
eyes, but out Of her darker ones, and the
prospect appeared gloomy enough. He
Thought it all over again and again, dwell
long hidden within the secret recesses or
his brain, yet so little came from this
searching survey that the result left him no
plan for the future. He had wandered too
far away from home; the path leading back
was long ago overgrown with weeds, and
could not now be retraced. One thing he
grasped clearly-the girl should be given
her chance; nothing in his life must ever
again soil her or lower her ideals. Mrs.
Herndon was right, and he realized 1t;
neither his presence nor his money were mt
to influence her future. He swore between
his ciinched teeth, his face grown haggard.
The suns rays bridged the slowly darken-
ing valley with cords of red gold, and the
man pulled himself to his feet by gripping
the root of a tree. He realized that he had
been sitting there for hours, and that he
was hungry
Down beneath amid the fast awakening
noise and hustle of early evening, the long
discipline of the gambler reasserted itself
he got back his nerve. 1t was Bob Hamp-
ton, cool, resourceful sarcastic of speech.
quick of temper who greeted the loungers
about the hotel and who sat. with his back
to the WALL in the little dining room, watch
full of all others present. And it was Bob
Hampton who strolled carelessly out upon
the darkened porch an hour later. leaving a
roar Of laughter behind him, and an enemy
as well. Little he cared for that. however.
in his present mood. and he stood there,
amid the black shadows. looking contem-
tuousiy down upon the stream of coatless
humanity trooping past on pleasure bent.
eyes glowing half angrily. Suddenly he
leaned forward, clutching the rail in quick
kid" he ex1.imed, harshly. what does
this mean? What are you doing alone
here?'
She stopped instantly and glanced up, her
face flushing I'm the light streaming forth
from the open door of the Occidental.
At reckon I'm alone here because I want
to be-" she returned. def1antly. 'I amt no
slave. How do you get up there
He extended his hand, and drew her up
beside him into the shaded corner. well. !"
he said, tell me the truth"
i've quit that's all, Bob. just couldn't
stand for reform any longer, and. SO I've
come back here to you."