The Lakeland evening telegram. (Lakeland, Fla.) 1911-1922, 1916-02-26
HIS GOAL
BY KEITH KENYON.


any property found by employees must
be turned in at the main Office. At
the end of month, if there was no
claimant, the finder received it as
sort of guerdon for his honesty.
Reardon had almost forgotten the
parcel until it was handed out to him
Saturday night with his pay envelope.
Here's where you get the wallet of
cash." grinned Malloy, sitting out on
the'bench at the side of the car barns,
but Reardon didn't mind. He stood
looking the parcel over, it was fiat.
about fourteen inches long and nine
wide and perhaps an inch thick.
open it, you gink," advised Malloy,
but Jack shook his head good ma
turedly.
It'll keep awhile longer" he said,
and swung up on an outbound car for
home. He was big chap, curly
haired, blue-eyed. with square shout
ders and a straight carriage from
his two years in the Philippines.
When he had eaten dinner he went
upstairs to his room on the third floor.
It wasn't hall room. He was get
ting his $2.S5 day; not so much,
but enough so he could pay out five
dollars for the third floor front and
have an open crate fire when the fur
mace lost courage.
He opened the package with a little
close smile of amusement. 1t certain
ly didn't look like gold mine. Some
of the fellows had been lucky in find
ing articles of real value. Then he
stopped short and stared with lowered
head and intent gaze at his treasure
trove. 1t was only the picture of
girl in double leather frame, but the
face enthralled him with it's beauty.
The next morning, Jack went to
work with a growing feeling that some
thing was missing in the general
scheme of happiness. All day the
feeling stayed with him. He sat by
himself across the street from the car
barns at his off hour. and went with
out his lunch. Finally, that afternoon,
Wallace swung up on his car as 1t
passed Thirty-fourth street, and
Jack looked at the detective with sud-
den interest.
Say, Tom. listen," he said. Sup
pose you only had a photograph of
girl to go by, never had seen her in
your life. How would you find her?"
go to the man who took the pic
ture and get her name and address"
Wallace replied. You're bright
spark Of hope. amt you, now?'
1t was noon the next day before he
could do it. The place was over on
Fifth avenue. 1t took all his courage
to go into it's ornate doors, tread it's
red velvet carpets and face the blonde
young woman at the mahogany desk
under the green and gold electrolier.
He laid the picture before her and
asked the name, and the answer came
back at once, with the slightest up
lift Of eyebrows:
81 suppose you're an artist. Why
didn't you hunt for her up at the
Models club, Fifty-eighth street, I
think it is. She isn't regular patron,
you know, she is merely one Of our
art models. This picture was made
for an art firm to be used as the head
on one of their perfume ads. Her
name is Betty Bellairs.'
Give me the address of the club,
will you, please?"
Jack tried to speak in the proper
off-hand professional manner, and
wrote down the number almost non
chalantly.
At the Art Models club they gave
her address. 1t was in the West Six
ties, five flights up, in brownstone
apartment building in the rear apart
ment. Jack asked for her when the
door opened, and the little ten-year-old
girl who responded turned her head
and called back through the hall,
Somebody to see you. Betty"
Come right in" called voice that
made Jacks pulse tingle. She was in
the living room, busting it, her long
brown hair in braid down her back,
and an all-enveloping apron on. But
to Jack she was altogether adorable.
and he stood mute for a minute, look
ing at her, glorying in her reality.
Then he held out the package.
II found this and wanted to return
/ it," he said.
She opened it wonderingiy, and
laughed at sight of the contents.
"Oh, it's my Ronteau picture. They
gave me one all for myself, and lost
it on a Broadway car. 1t was ever sc
good of you to return it. How did you
find me?"
| And somehow in order to tell of the
unraveling it was necessary that he
sit down, and then followed the intro
duction to Mrs. Bellairs and Estelle
the little sister, and Jack found him
self telling of the campaign in the
islands and the home nest up in Maine
and all sorts of things.
With a goal ahead, it somehow
seemed easy to force on now. He hunt
ed up people he had not thought OF, ant
went after the sort of work he loves
best, electrical engineering. Not un
ing in, did he tell Betty. After tn
first visit, it had become a custom 70
them to 60 for walks over through tn
park, with Estelle as a willing char
eron, and, finally. just when the west
ern skyline of the city lay in dee
purple against the orange sunset Sky
he helo her back to rest a minute u
in the wistaria arbor while Estell
skated down the path en- her rollers.
And then he told her lust what It ha