The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1914-03-19


h e approached 81 ~
nearer, the build ~ ~
ing proved to be SS *
fine old colonial ~
mansion.
Passing the pillared portico, he was
about to go around to side entrance
when a swinging hammock caught his
sight, and going nearer he spoke
Please can | get drink Of water
here?'
The figure in the hammock sudden
ly raised itself showing a girl little
younger than himself, girl in white
dress and pink ribbons, with sunshiny
hair and deep blue eyes, which wild
ened as, instead of answering his in
quiry she demanded: Are you a
tramp"
Not exactly, bu, hadn't the money
to ride, so | just had to walk"
The fair face flushed, then she hur-
ried away, returning little later with
a glass and pitcher of water, as we'll
as a generous piece of custard pie.
DO you like this kind?" she asked.
He looked at the pie. you bet"
was the prompt answer, and he pro-
ceeded to dispose of it.
I'm obliged to YOU" acknowledged
the boy as soon as speech seemed pos
sible. He had thrown himself on the
ground, but presently he started up.
We'll. | must be starting on"
Where to-"
New York"
New York;" Why that's miles
and miles away"
Il know, but I'll get there some
time. And, | say, | thank you for
the pie and the drink, and-what's
your name?"
my names Evelyn Ware"
We'll, then goodby Evelyn Ware
AS he started toward the street he
turned to say, Some day I'll come
back and marry you, Evelyn Ware"
"Oh. will YOU" she returned scorn-
fully. Then with mocking smile she
sang,
Bobby Shaftos gone to sea,
Silver buckles on his knee.
He'll come back and marry me,
Pretty Bobby Shafto.
His destination was reached in time,
and during the year that followed the
boy picked up barely enough to main
tain a clothed and fed existence. 1t
came about, however, that within his
second year he found himself occu-
plying a mental position in the office
of one OF the daily papers. Six months
later he took something to the editor
The man read it, and looking up at
the boy, asked, Where did you get
this?"
Il wrote it. Is it-goQd?"
The man gave low whistle. you
wrote it? Well, keep on, my boy"
In time a story under his name ap-
peared in one of the magazines,
Others followed, and then came the
inevitable writing Of a novel. This,
after one or two reflections, was pub
lished His work as reporter was
given up, and another novel produced
which met with SO cordial a recep-
ton by the public as to place THE
Highway of Fate on the list of the
pears best sellers.
About this time he was invited to
make one Of house party given by
a society leader at her country place.
A half hour after his arrival at Sum-
mer Acres, Wilfred, standing near an
open window in his room, heard voices
below on the piazza.
Who do you think Is to be guest
here?' asked feminine voice.
I've no idea, another voice equally
feminine, but more musical, returned
Has Mrs. Grafton inveigled star of
the first magnitude"
Something like It," was the re-
Spouse, for this Is no less a person
age than Wilfred Hunter, the author"
Possible? So we will all soon be
on the Highway of Fate, II not already
there laughed the other
Yes, and If he is as good looking
as his picture, look out for your heart,
Evelyn, for | suppose you have one"
Wilfred started. Evelyn? That
name belonged to the little golden
haired fairy of his humble youth. Was
this she?
A little later his query was an
swered when he was presented to
Miss Evelyn Ware.
One day while they were walking
together. the young man asked:
Would you think me insufferably
egotistical. Miss Ware. If l told you
the outline of little story have In
mnd?"
on the contrary, Mr.. Hunter,
should feel deeply fattered," was the
response.
Accordingly the man began. He de-
scribed himself as he had been sixteen
years ago, poor unknown and alone.
Are you-Bobby Shafto?'
Yes" as his hand closed over hers.
and | have come back-as l said
would"