Baraboo weekly news. [volume] (Baraboo, Wis.) 1912-197?, 1913-03-27

| And. If it does not 90 the WORK. IRIS
the old sfIe-wolt uownsra1rs-tn1s
| afternoon, so we cannot draw upon
| his eXchequer, and there's no one in
the company worth five shillings. So,
if any Samaritan would look the mat
ter up-just till Easter-or a little
| past-it would be a real downright
act of Christian charity. He'd get al
his money back from Nash's girls in
time-Or from me. I'll be security
| for them to any amount. But
should like money sent to Della if
she can't afford to come without, and
l want to save this old pal from
workhouse funeral. It's so damag-
ing to the theater, you see; people
will talk about it, and it isn't fair to
Noah-is it, old man, after all your
troubles?"
Mr.. Kench went to the bedside
again and drew down the sheet
which covered the comedians fore
head. 1t was a dramatic action
stacy, if you will-but there was a
pathOs in it.
II am not rich man"
Enough, sir, enough. I put a
hypothetical case; don't mind me in
the least"
mot a rich man." l repeated;
| "but I will take this in hand, and to
the best of my power, until we hear
| from Mr. Nash's daughters
Heaven bless you, sir! Poor
Nash spoke Of you this afternoon as
a right good sort-the only one of
town, he said: and you were not
native, which accounts for it. We
| drank the health of Doctor LISA
mer an hour or two ago. It was
| NOah's last toast, poor beggar! He
was wonderful judge of character,
and a man with a most surprising
memory. He had some knowledge of
MT he?"
Eyes, he had"
"But I am boring you," he said,
instead Of thanking you for all the
trouble you are willing to take upon
yourself, and for an unfortunate
! member of my company, l can but
| thank you again, sir. I am at your
! service in any details that you think
I may be able to furnish My address
| is the theater-I sleep there, in fact
-and-and-if ever | am able to re-
pay you for all your kindness, you
| may rely upon me that | will. Good
'dght. sir"
He extended his hand, bowed po-
| litely over the one / put in his, and
then followed me downstairs into the
street.
at has left off raining" he said,
looking up at the black sky, ''but the
| wind cuts like a knife. Goodnight,
once more-and thank you"
I walked home at a brisk pace.
Alone in my room, after | had bro
ken the sad news to Mrs. Higginson,
I sat before my fire, thinking Of the
| responsibility I had-a little impru-
| dently-taken upon myself, and
| wondering if Mr.. Kench had consid-
| cred me a fool for my officiOusness. |
had certainly gone a great deal out
OF my way to spend my money; /
| should feel the drain presently
| might be shortly as stone broke
| as Mr.. Kench. Why had | thrust
| myself forward in this uncalled-
| for manner? 1t was not that
| Mr.. Kench's eloQuence had car
ried all before it-he might have
been in earnest, or he might have
been play-acting; it was that the
comedians sudden exit from life had
been a shock to me that 1 could not
recover from, which had aroused
| strange morbid sensibilities, and
made of me a rash, impulsive, i'm
provident man.
In the morning / was still further
convinced that I had acted impru-
IDENTIFY, but there was not the faintest
wish to draw back from the promise
which 1 had made.
I was out before breakfast, and
dispatched my telegram to Miss
Nash, SO Dark Street, S. E. 1t was a
lengthy telegram, because / was anx-
ious to be explicit, and to soften the
shock to the daughters of the faith
er's decease, as we'll as it was posi-
BILE when words were a half-penny
each.
And half an hour after breakfast
q telegraph lad asked to see me, and
said he had been sent by the Brey-
mouth postmaster for further in
structions." The address / had given
was altogether wrong. No such street
as Dark street, 1 was officially in
formed, was known in any district of
South London, or in any part OF
London proper-or even improper.
(To Be Continued.)