Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-04-02

Santos-Dumont, Bleriot, Farman. the
Wrights. | don't begrudge them their sue
cess. They worked for it. They deserved
it. Still it was hard, realizing what my
machine could do, to look on, to-but I'm
wandering from the point. At last scraped
together enough to build a machine that
embodied all my latest ideas, and to bring
it to France, where they all along been so
keen about aeronautics. | knew l could
outfy any aeroplane in existence, and l saw
my chance to prove it to the world at Rheims
But at Rheims-well, you know more or less
about what happened there. 1t wasn't alto
gether the motor, however. | let people
think it was the whole trouble; but it was
not. The engine was seriously out of order,
the sea was rough and knocked the cargo
about,-but l knew l could remedy it in
time. What [ couldn't remedy was the hole
in my pocket. The expense all along had
been more than expected, and was at the
end of my tether. | hadn't the money to
carfare back to Paris"
"You must have been desperate"
dyes. 1t seems like bad dream. sup
pose | might have appealed to the manage
ment; but it hurt my pride as an American
to 60 to those Frenchrnen and own up that
l was beaten. So secured the crowd, hop
ing to find somebody knew. | would leave
the sheds and walk by the tribunes, where
in every for1n-in Jewels, fine clothes, rich
food-mOney stared me in the face. Twice
l caught sight of people knew; but each
time it was man who had refused me in
the past. One of them was guzzling cham
payne enough to have kept me in rations for
a week. 1t made me feel like an anarchist
Yet reached point where nerved myself
to try that swine. | overheard him tell
somebody where he was staying, and on
Saturday night walked over to Rheims to
his hotel. He was out; but as came away
l ran into your uncle. But l hadn't it in
me to ask him.
@There's nothing he wouldn't do for a son
of your father
al know that now. He's the salt of the
earth. But l couldn't hold him up. got
away from the hotel and walked the streets
[ walked the streets all night. In the morn
ing went back to ask for that wine swilling
pig; but he wasn't up. Then l drifted into
the cathedral.
HE paused again, and AIMS cheek grew
"a hot.
II couldn't tell you what that church is
like" he continued slowly. II only remem-
Der that | saw you'll
She waited breathless. Had he seen
through her in that moment of trial? Had
her silly worldliness brimmed the cup of his
despair?
II doubted my eyes at first" he went on.
"Your uncle had not mentioned that you
were with him, and for moment thought
that worry had added my brain. You see,
you have been constantly with me since you
set me thinking. You have grown into my
work. That why believed my senses were
cheating me. Then 1 saw that you were
real"
Ann found her punishment too hard. ooh,
why didn't you speak to me?" she cried.
3If had only known your troubled"
"You did not see me. You went away
without seeing me, -afterward-I was
glad"
"Glad!" Great was as her relief, it still
left room for curiosity.
"You would have thought me as mad as
March hare had 1 spoken to you. 1t be-
w1ldered me to come upon you then when
things looked blacklist, you who were my
inspiration. 1t was like an omen. l seemed
to face the beginning and the end"
II hoped it seemed good omen."
IL could not tell" he answered. at was
only when you came among the sheds at
Betheny that | knew
She thought with profound thankfulness
of the ruined glove.