Gilpin observer., 1914-04-09

ing proved to be ~ S2
fine old colonial -
mansion.
Passing the pillared portico, he was
about to go around to a side entrance
when 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 q 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, but l hadn't the money
to ride. so just had to walk"
The fair face flushed. then she hur-
q glass and pitcher of water, as we'll
as 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. l 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
7 fhnn 70
the pie and the drink, and-what's
your name?"
my names Evelyn Ware"
well, then good-by 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 a mocking smile she
sang,
Bobby Shafto's 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-
pying menial position in the office
of one of the daily papers. Six months
later he took something to the editor.
The man read 1t, and looking up at
dhe boy, asked, Where did you get
sthis.''
Il wrote it. Is it-good?"
The man gave low whistle. You
wrote it? Well, keep on, my boy"
In time 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 recep-
tion 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.
here?" asked feminine voice.
I've no idea," another voice equally
feminine, but more musical, returned.
Has Mrs. Grafton inveigled a star OF
the first magnitude?"
Something like IT," was the re-
esponse. 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 II 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, II ] told you
the outline OF little story have in
mind?"
"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 said
would"