Alma record., 1914-02-05
CHAPTER III.
The Turn Of the PAGE.

John Valiant stirred and laughed, a
little self-consciously for there had
been drops on his face.
Presently he took a check-book from
his pocket and began to figure on the
stub, looking up with wry smile. ITO
come down to brass tacks," he NUT
tered, when I've settled everything
(thank heaven, don't owe my tailor!)
there will be little matter Of twenty
eight hundred odd dollars, a passe mo-
tor and my clothes between me and
the bread-line!"
Everything else he had disposed Of
everything but the fourfooted COM
rade there at his feet. 'But I'd not
sell you. old chap" he said, softly;
mot a single lick of your friendly
pink tongue; not for a beastly hun
dred thousand!
He withdrew his caressing hand and
looked again at the check-stub. Twen-
ty-eight hundred He laughed bleakly.
Why he had spent more than that a
month ago on ball at Sherrys. This
morning he had been rich; tonight he
was poor,
What could he do? He could not
remember a time when he had not had
all that he wanted. He had never bor-
rowed from a friend or been dunned
by an importunate tradesman. And
he had never tried to earn a dollar in
his life; as to current methods of MAX
ing a living, he was as ignorant as a
Pueblo Indian.
He rose grimly and dragged his
chair facing the window The night
was balmy and he looked down across
the darker sea of reefs barred like
gigantic checker-board by the shining
lines of streets, to where the flashing
electric signs Of the theater district
laid their wide swath of colored ra-
dance The manifold calls of the
street and the buzz of trolleys made a
dull tonal background, subdued and
farawRy.
To be ouIAide! All that light and
color and comfort and pleasure would
hum and sparkle on just the same,
though he was no longer within the
haps, he thought with a twisted smile.
at some tawdry occupation that called
for no experience, to pay for a meal
In some secondrate restaurant and
pallet in some shabby-genteel, hall
bedroom, till his clothes were replaced
by ill-fittiIg "hand-me-downs'' by
wretched gradations he arrived finally |
at the status of the dime seat in the |
gallery and five-cent cigars!
There was one way back 1t lay |
through the hackneyed gateway of |
Youth, comeliness and fine |
linen, in the world he knew, were a |
fair exchange for wealth any day.
Outlet for cutlet"-thC satiric phrase
AN through his mind. Why not?
others did so. And as FOR himself. It |
perhaps need be no question of plain
md spinstered millions-there was
Fargo!
In his heart John Valiant was aware,
~ those subtle signs which men and
women alike distinguish, that while
Fargo loved first and fore
most her own wonderful person, he
lad been an easy second in her re-
ard.
John Valiant looked down at the
'ulldog squatted on the floor, his eyes
Inning In the dimness. A little hot
ipple had run over him. Not on
our life, Chum!" he said. mo shame
ess barter! There must be other
hings besides money and social posi-
ion In this doddering old world, after
II! We're going to begin something
Or ourselves, II it's only raising cab
ages! And we're going to stand II
'ithout any baby-aching-the nurse
ever held our noses when we took
ur castor-oili"
II was folded down, that. old bright