The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1913-04-30
TIE EVENING STORY
Defeat.
(By Louise Olney.)

/ that-but he almost ran into Ellie,
| who was listening SO intently to a
/ dapper yoI ing fellow bending over her
| that she did not see Jim at ALL. 1t
was bitter not to be seen by this
| pretty thing with her big, tired
| eyes and delicate air.
| Jim turned to look after them He
| knew contempt ously that he made
| in day nearly as much as such fell
| lows did n week. Why didn't they
| hunt a man-size job? And what
| could a girl see in, say, the specimen
| Ellie now walked with? 1t was a
cheap theater. cheaper dance
| lunch now and then as a treat-but
| what society. And, at the end,
what did the girl get? She only
| cheapened herself, wasted her time.
| This fellow, Perry Benson, could
| never make her home-probably it
| hadn't entered his head that she need
| ed one nor that any able bodied man
| should support at least one other than
himself
This latter idea was part of Jim's
| gospel of life. Now, as he swung
along toward the little house in the
| suburbs, house that would be his
own with a few more installments he
! took off his cap and let the May wind
| blow through his heavy black hair.
| The wind felt good on his face, and
| he liked the children running in the
| streets as he got further out from
| the center of the city, and boys play
| ing baseball and old ladies tottering
| back from belated calls. He liked the
edge of town. That was why he had
bought there-it was a bit disorderly
| and run down in places, but on vacant
| lots trim little buildings were going
up. His own cottage was a made
over one
AS he unlocked and entered his own
little back door and washed prepara-
tory to lighting the little gasoline stove
md no lie IL
for the once rather dreary. Heretofore
| it had been bit like camping. He
hadn't minded getting breakfast and
| supper when he bought good noon
| day meal down town. The home cook
| ing had been a temporary sort of thing
| "a make shift. He had planned to
| have a wife to have things CHEEKY and
| ready for him some day.
| He heated a can of beans and made
some coffee and cut the bakers bread
| and tried not to see Ellie's face in the
| purely imaginary chair opposite him.
He had never intended choosing her
anyhow. Her face just sort of put
| itself there from the time a few months
! ago when he had gone into Bascom's
linen department to buy some towels.
! she had sold them to him, and her
fragility and sweetness and a certain
reserve and gravity made him remem-
| Der her. He had found himself buy
| ing other things from her a few days
| later He must have been in a dozen
times-always for some rifle which he
put away and called himself fool for
getting.
Now his supper was without flavor,
| as he recalled that a month ago he
had met her on the street one even
| ing and had asked leave to walk back
with her. She shrank and started and
he had some ado to prove to her that
he meant no harm. OF course, he
| should have found some one to intro
duce hin-he had known that. His
speaking to her was not effrontery but
friendless. Finally, recognizing him,
she let him come and was very frank
and pleasant. but she was disinclined
| to let him come again. He liked her
for that Working girls were not al
ways so careful how they made ac-
quaintanceS.
But this is not what took the fla
vor from his picked-up meal. After
that meeting with her he had found
a friend who did know her-it was
! a chance, too, of sort which he
hated. He never went to the
Dream-On Dances, but Bob Merrill
night. And almost the first girl
| face he saw pass him that of
Ellie. He had gone hot and cold and
angry Then he remembered that her
goings and comings were not his to
regulate.
watched them wondering that she had
come here. Didn't she know better?
She would meet men that should not
even know of her existence? He wait
ed for the waltz to end and presented
himself for an introduction. After that
! he had danced with her a few rounds
| and then asked to take her off the
floor.
He proceeded to talk to her like a
| brother. 1t was a frank tax. ne
ha En
i her. And since she had avoided
| him. He had been twice to see her
and she refused to appear-at least
| he thought she did. The woman
that he caught a glimpse of her on
| one of the times. Now he ate and
mentally went over what he told her.
His warning had been to the effect
| that she was too good for TINS sort
| of thing: that she was in danger of
being misjudged, making bad ac-
quaintances; that she was too DELI
cate and should be outdoors in the
air Finally her silence irritated him
and he insisted in taking her home
group of others and got off on the
plea of a headache. But she had not
promised not to go again and
here she was with that worthless
he, Jim, have with her, after all?
He asked himself that, and answered
that he must be crazy He would
nut her out of his mind.
After he had tidied up and mended
a place in the fence. he thoughtfully
put on his good clothes and went
down the street for walk All
roads led to Ellie, and he found him
self going in the direction of her
boarding house. He rang the bell,
asked the hard-faced woman who
/ answered for Miss Caldwell and
waited Would she see him? Why
did she avoid him? He only wanted
a walk with her-she had walked
with him a few times. He seemed to
i Gee heI childlike face beside him. her