The enterprise. [volume] (Harlem, Mont.) 1899-1926, 1916-02-17
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lSLAN ID
By HAROLD MAcGRATH
Copyright by Frank A. Munsey Co.

mere Out Tor cnance TO see you ANA
talk with you? God in heaven. you
mean to tell me you do not know that
this is a private gambling house? The
low, abo1ninable scoundrels.'
From her varied wardrobes she had
chosen the simplest hat ana gown, TAX
en- only the money in her purse and
fed.
1t was almost as if she had fled with
her hands to her ears and her eyes
shut. The gradual disillusioning from
which humanity draws it's experiences
and profit was denied her.
1t had beaten down upon her with
the suddenness OF an avalanche. For
days after there had been mental
numbness. Dry eyed and trancelike
she had gone from place to place for
work. God forgive them; never would
she.
Began the battle with the world
Warned, she learned quickly how to
deal with men and half men and
beasts-learned to hold them off at
arms length without repelling them.
to meet rebuff with firmness and gen
tleness, harshness with patience, guile
with disarming honesty. The fairy
story she had dreamed of reading there
behind the convent grille was a grim
hag's tale. In these Seeming six years
many had been her occupations-shop-
girl, stenographer, nurse. governess,
companion to old ladies, stewardess on
the Atlantic liners which she still fol-
lowed ostensibly, but in reality as
blind for a more daring business.
And now the hurt she had always
succeeded in Guiding had finally come.
Here in this quaint, low ceilinged room
she faced it honestly.
She cared more for this comparative
stranger than was wise, and the issue
was how to leave him, to forget him
and make him forget in turn
Quarter after TO-
Smead is playing solitaire and paus-
ing from time to time abstractedly, for
here and there the face of a card dis
solves and Il vision comes instead.
Crawford is smoking his pipe and
In the pillows of peary smoke vi
sions. In the hotel barroom the man
who calls himself Hanchett has his
visions. To the young. sad eyed wo-
man in Watertown visions troop back
and forth past her star enameled Win
dow. Visions surge about the pillows
nff 1Nf,x 20 ,t,>
Quarter after 10.
In house in the great city clock
in hallway struck the quarter hour.
The soft boom of it penetrated all
the lower rooms Of the big house. BY
the library reading table the gray hair
ed man laid down his newspaper and
looked at his watch.
"Wonderful how that old clock keeps
time" he said to the white haired wo-
man opposite. HUNDRED and fifty
years old. and yet it is still as accurate
as this Swiss piece"
He returned the watch to his pocket
and was about to resume his reading
when he saw something sparkle on the
ScheekS of the woman. "What's the
matter, Jane:'
she dabbed at her cheeks with her
handkerchief and fumu4d the leaves
of her book Nothing"
Nonsense. That's not the truth
What's troubling you?" kindly.
THAT which is always troubling
me" bravely. since she knew it must
be said
The mans features seemed to draw
together almost imperceptibly.
The eyes narrowed; the nostrils, the
lips became pincheu. She could hear
the long drawn breath.
You are always thinking of her
81 can t help it. She is flesh of my
flesh, blood of my blood. am her
mother"
And ann not her father"
She smiled wanly. THAT is not
quite the same thing
You are without Il stick of pride"
NO no. l have pride, but it is the
pride of pity. the pride of love. can.
not crush out either at command from
you. 1t is five years since you denied
her.
'Ahv' He was one of those men
whose faces grow white when angered.
All the blood Went with u rush to his
heart, leaving his mind clear and cold.
II have told you never to mention her.
I have no daughter'
Il have. And oh. l think of her at
night! Where is she? Is she dead,
alive, i'll misery: She, too, has pride,
for she has never written but once"
Il tell You have no daughter"
And | repeat | have And if | did
not depend upon You for my bread am.
butter | would seek and find her. In
my heart have never forsaken her"
she is still more to you than ever
was
NO. Since that day when you ceas-
ed to be my lover. Money and pomp
and false pride have robbed me of both
my daughter and my lover"
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