Baraboo weekly news. [volume] (Baraboo, Wis.) 1912-197?, 1912-09-19

Sood man, Fortune, as cr1ter1ons go.
I've shipped here and there; I've gam
Dled and drunk and squandered my
tlme. Why, in my youth / was as
MODEL a boy as ever was Perciva1.
where the divarication took place /
can't say. There's always two forks
IN the road, Fortune, and many of US
take the wrong one. It's easier going.
FINE excuse; en-! some persons wou1d
cali me scoundrel, black-leg; in
some ways, yes. But in the days to
come want you always to remember
the two untarnished spots upon my
shield of honor: l have never cheat
ed man at cards nor run away with
his wife. The devil must give me
these merits, however painful it may
be to him. Ten years ago, only a
decade; good Lord! it's like hum
dred years ago, sometimes
Fortune breathed with difficulty.
Never before had he taken her into
his confidence to such extent. She
essayed to speak; the old terror
seemed fairly to smother her. 1t was
not what he had told her, but what
she wished to but dared not ask. She
was like Bluebeard's wife, only she
had not the moral courage to open the
door of the grisly closet. :. X. Her
mother, her uncle; what of them, ali,
what of them? The crooked street
vanished; the roar dwindled away;
she was alone, all, all alone.
L suppose I ought not to have told
you," he said troubled at the misery
he saw gathered in her eyes and
vaguely conscious of what had written
it there. your mother and uncle
have been very kind to me. They
know less of me than you do. have
been to them a kind of errand-boy; a
happy-go-lucky fellow, who cheered
them when they had the doldrums. !"
With forced cheerfulness he again
took her hand and snuggled it under
his arm, giving it a friendly reassur-
ing pat. "I'll not speak to you of
love, child, but a hair of your head
is more precious to me than all Midas
gold. Whenever I've thought Of you,
I've tried to be good. Honestly"
"And can't you go back to the be-
ginning and start anew" TREMENDOUSLY.
"Can any one go back? The moving
finger writes. An hour is a terrible
thing when you look to See what can
happen in it. But, come; sermons!
I'd far rather see you smile. Won't
your"
She tried to, but to him it was sad
der than her tears would have been.
For an hour they walked through
the dim and musty streets. He exert
ed himself to amuse her and fairly
succeeded. But never did the unac-
countable fear, that presage of misfor-
tune, sleep in her heart. And at last,
when he took her to her carriage and
babe her good-by till dinner, half
formed idea began to grow in her
brain; to save Mr.. Jones without be-
traying Ryanne.
The latter's carriage was at the 9TH
er end Of the baZaars; SO he strobe
sullenly through the press, rudely ell
bowling those who got in his way. An
occasional curse was flung after him;
but his height, his breadth of Shout
der, his lowering face, precluded any
thing more active. The Moslems had
a deal of faith in the efficacy of
curses; so the jostled ones rested up
on the promise of these, satisfied that
directly, or in the near future, Allah
would blast the unbelieving dog in his
tracks.
What cleverness the mother and
scallawag of an uncle had shown to
have kept the child in ignorance all
these years! That she saw darkly, as
through fog, he was perfectly sure.
Sooner or later the storm would burst.
upon her innocent head, and then God
alone knew what would become Of
her. Oh, damn the selfish, sordid
world At that instant great long
ing roHed over him to cut loose from
all these evil webs, to begin anew
somewhere, even if that somewhere
were but a wilderness, a clearing in
forest.
This moment flashed and was gone.
Next, he reviewed with chagrin and IT,
ritation the folly of his Ultimatum Of
the preceding night. He had had not
the slightest semblance of plan in
his head. Sifted down, he saw his
savage and senseless humOr and the
desire to stir up discord. Gioconda
was right. Fortune was above them
all, in feeling, in instinct, in loyalty.
What right had he, roisterer by night
that he was, predaceous outlaw, what
right had he to look upon Fortune as
his own? Harm her! He would have
Topped off his right hand first.
Well, he had but little time, and
PerciVal Algernon called for prompt
action. The young fool was smitten
with Fortune. Any one could see that.
AS he shouldered his pathway to the
carriage, his eyes seeing but not Wis
ualizing objects, three brown men
glided in between him and the car
riage-step.
TTo Do Continued