The San Francisco call., 1910-10-30
lEAPFVLLY e5HE cLASPED HER lZ4ND 0VER HER HLART

-Branny's the boy--a knockout-tord,
Lordr'
A strange fever was in Arnold's eyes,
a lashing unrest and doubt; his look
was on the mute girl, but he seemed
not to see her, to have forgotten her.
She shrank still farther from the
window, from the believing town; had
the Madness. whatever it was, seized
her lover, also? What was he, to whom
had she given herself?
Fearfully she clasped her hand over
her heart on the little fortune. the ten
thousand dollars under the blue jacket
that had looked so brave in the coun-
try-up-in- back. He had liked the little
blue gown. He had called her his
picture girl" and now Well, she
couldn't tell-and then she struggled
to keep back her tears, her doubts, for
her lover had come to hold her close,
soothing her so that the awful street,
the place of savages, was shut from
her brain. 1t had no light, no sweet
ness; it crippled the good in men,
scared their souls.
The other man had gone, and Arnold
was saying: Sylvia, you weren't
scared. were you? I thought you'd like
to see a fight night The lad who won
is a friend of mine-a Native Son of
the Golden West-so the towns crazy
Come, We'll go eat at links" He
suddenly remembered that Bluebell had
broke" him today, but no matter.
Borrowing was the easiest thing for
Hammy Arnold; anywhere down the
line he was good fellow drifting
easily on the tide of the after midnight.
And tomorrow he could cash a winning
ticket on the new champion.
So they went on through the dissolv-
ing welter of humans, and suddenly
from motor car a young fellow uprose
with a shout at Arnold. The huge ma
chine ground through the crowd, and
Sylvia saw half dozen hands reached
joyously to her lovers. He was slapped
across the shoulders and buffeted about
the curb amid the congratulations OF
the motor car party. She could under
stand nothing of the matter except that
Arnold was vainly protesting; and
then he turned laughingly to her. and
she found herself lifted lightly upon
the leather cushions of the tonneau,
and the car shot forward along the
shining pavementS. Past changing
streetcars, carriages and motors, be-
tween dazzling lines of light lining the
thoroughfare and the creeping tide OF
people on either side, the great car
leaped, with Sylvia holding her lovers S
hand in the comforting secrecy of the
cushions. On her other side was a
stranger leaning forward to talk eagerly
with a man in the middle seat where
sat, also, wedged in between two men,
an astonishingly pretty woman whose
eyes were brighter and cheeks more
glowing than any Sylvia had ever seen.
The country girl was introduced to
none of these laughing, intent strangers;
but she was with John Arnold, and that
was enough. She clasped the little
fortune in her Jackets bosom, and whis-
pered to herself: II said I'd trust him
always and everywhere, and l will
willNwill,"
In the seat before her was a tall,
brown faced young man in light over
coat and white hat, who kept turning
to talk to the small important one that
crowded her so closely to Arnold's side.
Always he reiterated in the jerky dis
cussions, to the garrulous negations of
the other:
"I'n give forty thousand for the
match Broughton-winner take all, or
So and 35 on so per cent split-and
133 ringside, or at 8 o'clock-any way
they like. Forty thousand for the
fight"
And the short man, steadying him
self in the plunging car. kept crying
out: What's that?-what's that? Tex.
l don't think he'll fight niger
what's that?-I said nigger, What?-''
and above the laughter and the joyous
voices in. the car and the street tum VI t.