The Huttig news., 1910-09-03
CHAPTER L..
The Threshold of Adventure.

| iHe InFeSHoiC or RQVcnIuFe.
 The roar of State street filled the ears of Robert Orme not unpleasantly He liked Chicago, felt towards the western city something more than the l tolerant, patronizing interest which l so often characterizes the eastern man. To him it was the hub of gen. uine Americanism-youn aggressive, perhaps a bit too cocksure, but ever bounding along with eyes toward the future Here was the city of great beginnings. the city of experiment. i experiment with life; hence it's incom- pleteness-an incompleteness not dis similar to that Of life itself. Chi cago lived. it was the pulse of the great middle west
 orme watched the procession with clear eyes. He had been strolling southward from the Masonic Temple. l into the shopping district. The i clangor, the smoke and dust, the hur- ] rying crowds, all worked into his l mood. The expectation of adventure l was far from him. Nog was he man i who sought impressions for amuse- ] ment: whatever came to him he weigh 1 ed, and accepted or rejected according as it was valueless or useful. Whole some he was; any one might infer i that from his face Doubtless, his l fault lay in his overemphasis on the purely practical; but that, after all, was a lawyers fault. and it was ceunterbalanced by a sweet kindliness toward all the world-a leveableness which made for him friend of every chance acquaintance.
 It was we'll along in the afternoon. and shoppers were hurrying home ward. Orme noted the fresh beauty of the women and girls-Chieage has reason to be proud of her daughters and his heart beat a little faster ] Not that he was a man to be caught by every pretty stranger; but scarce ] ly recognized by himself. there was a hidden spring of romance in his prac- tical nature Heart-free. he never met a woman without wondering whether she was the one. He had never found her he did not know that he was looking for her: yet always there was the unconscious question.
 A distant whistle. the changing of gongs. the rapid beat of galloping hoofs-fre engines were racing down the street. Cars stopped, vehicles of Bll kinds crowded in toward the curbs.
 Orme paused and watched the fire i horses go laundering by, their smo- i king chariots swaying behind them and dropping long trails of sparks. i Small boys were running, men and women were stopping to gaze after i the passing engines. but Orme's at tentior was taken by something that was happepine near by, and as the eongs and the hoof-beats grew fainter he looked with interest to the street beside him.
 He bad got as far as the corner of Madison street The scramble to get l out of the way of the engines had here resulted in a traffic jam. Two policemen were moving about. shout ing orders for the disentanglement of i the street cars and vehicles which seemed to be inextrieably wedged to gether
 A burly Irish teamster was below ing at his horse. The hind wheel of i smart barouche was caught in the l fore wheel of delivery wagon and the driver of the delivery wagon was expressing his opinion of the situation l in terms which seemed to embarrass the elderly gentleman who sat in the i barouche. Orme's eye travelled through the outer edge of the dis turbance. and sought it's center
 There in the midst of the tangle was a big black touring car. It's one occupant was a girl-and such girl! Her fawn-coored cloak was thrown open; her face was unveiled. Orme was thrilled when he caught the glory of her face-the clear skin, Drowned by outdoor living; the de- mure but regular features; the eyes that seemed to transmute and reflect softly all impressions from without. Orme had never seen any one like her-so nobly unconscious of self. so appealing and yet so calm.
 She was waiting patiently inter- ested in the clamor about her, but seemingly undisturbed by her own part in it. Ormes eyes did not leave her face He was merely one of crowd at the curb, unnoted by her, but when after a time, he became aware that he was staring, he felt the blood rush to his cheeks, and he nut tered: What boor I aml' And then, But who can she be? Who can she be?''
 policeman made his way to the black car. Orme saw him speak to the girl; saw her brows knit; and he quickly threaded his way into the street. His action was barely con scious. but nothing could have stopped him at that moment.
 You'll have to come to the station, miss," the policeman was saying.