The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1915-06-08
The Evening Story
Fate at the wheel.
(By Barbara Colvin. }

If you would only give a fellow a
chance to explain" protested Arnold
Lee, as Paula turned a pink ear in his
direction.
Il suppose you could think of
dozen excuses why you should forget
an engagement with mel blazed the
1rate young woman.
Il don't have to manufacture ex-
cuseS, retorted Arnold decidedly II
told you that Colonel Wasby sent for
me to go to the hotel to receive GER
| tain instructions before he went L
telephoned you and Nora said she
would deliver my message
She did,
And still you persist in being Of
Tended? Why. Paula, dear, my secre-
taryship with the colonel means a lot
to me-tO us, 1t means our getting
married soon." he pleaded.
You are mistaken said Paula
colby 1t means we will not be mar
ried at all-because you place your
duty to the colonel before your duty
to me. Here!" She held out the ring
that HAD encircled her engagement
finger for three happy months
Arnold took it and dropped it in
his pocket. still with the dazed, hurt
look in his eyes. Then he turned
away and went slowly down the
drive. This was his first experience
with the vagaries of woman and it
had proved bitter-sweet
Never again. he muttered grimly,
The Wayne place, where Paula
lived with her bookworm of a father
and several servants. occupied large
park which was walled against the
main highway from Orable to Kent.
Arnold was stopping at one of the
small hotels in Orable while his en-
ployer, Colonel Wasby, lived like a
magnate at the Kent palace. 1t had
been Arnold's daily custom to motor
between the two hotels every day in
LITTLE nd h1rS his 10
bors as secretary were lightened by oc-
casional glimpses of his sweetheart.
But now this arrangement had its
1t was painfully awk-
BILE gates of Waynewood. How many
times had he turned his little car
into the upper gate, paused for brief
word with Paula, and then sped on
around the drive and out of the lower
gate and on to the dull routine of
his Secretaria1 duties.
Now, all this was at an end. The
little car slid down the hill twice a
day without even friendly toot of
Arnold devoted himself so assidi-
ously to his work that his apprecia-
tive employer raised his salary and
predicted q bright future for him. The
road 10 married life was plain enough
now-but the one thing essential
was lacking. He had lost Paula.
One morning, fortnight later when
and apparently everywhere save in
poor ArnOld'S Swallowed heart, he
made the irritating discovery that the
little car which took him to his daily
work refused to turn a wheel.
Lee, declining the proffered help of
the mechanician at the hotel garage,
fumbled over the intricate parts of the
car and messed himself all up with
oil ard grease until his linen buster
was as black that of his wOuld-be
a stood
his grimy face
Il guess she'll go now, sir" he
chuckled as Arnold climbed YEARLY
into the car and grasped the wheel.
IF she doesn't
But she did
The words of the mechanician We're
lost in the buzzing whir of the motor
as the car lifted her front wheels and
leaped forward.
There was a scattering of interested
spectators, and an instant vanishing
of the hotel and its grounds, as the
machine tore down the drive and
Arnold crouched over the steering
wheel, pulling at the speed levers
without avail. Then, to his horror.
he realized that the car would not
respond to his guidance.
He had reused it to action. but it
wouldn't stopi The steering gear re-
fused to work.
Ahead of him was almost certain
death, for the long road from disable
to Kent ended in the ocean front OF
the Kent Palace hotel. 1t would be
spectacular and thrilling end!
The white road uncurled before the
down-rushing machine. Soon he
would come to the upper gate of
Waynewood. Perhaps Paula, seeing
him rushing past. would, later Oh,
realize that she had seen him riding
to his death. There was certain
melancholy satisfaction in the
thought. His strained eyes were fixed
on the road ahead. He must not wit
tingly endanger any other human lives
on his mad rush to destruction. So he
kept on sounding the horn of his lit
tie car ceaselessly, and quite forgot
when he reached the first boundary
of the Waynewood stone wall
Just as he reached the upper gate
of Waynewood, the off tire ground
against a sharp stone. the car swerved
sharply to the right and shot through
the familiar gate of Waynewood.
At that instant Arnold would have
preferred the plunge straight forward
into the ocean
''Zip-z-Z-z-z-z-ip.'
The tires bit hard in the bluestone
drive until curve was reached, when
almost miraculously choosing a lane
between two rows of Lombardy pop
lars.
The lane ended in Mr.. Wayne's
cherished bed of giant heliotrope, in
the center of which stood an ancient
sundia1, whose stone pedestal was sunk
deep in the ground. Around the brass
face of the dial was inscribed the leg
end: Il mark only life's sunny
hours
Standing beside the sundial. knee
deep in purple and white heliotrope,
stood Paula Wayne. Her bright, un-
covered head was bent over the dial
and her slender forefinger traced the |
words around the circle.
AS Arnold rushed toward her in the |
runaway car their eyes met in mutual