The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1916-08-12
EVENING STORY
The End of Nowhere.
(By Susan E. C1agett.)

(By Susan E. Clagett.)
He trudged YEARLY along, a mite of
a youngster, with a mongrel cur
watching him with adoring eyes and
following closely at his heels. Tom
was toe miserable to think of any
thing but his desire to get as far away
from everybody as he could.
He had not been treated fairly. His
father had told him he could keep the
dog-the one thing in all Toms uni
verse he wanted with his whole little
heart-then had changed his mind
He gave no reason. Just said he
wouldn't have such looking cur
about That he must go, and Tom de-
cided he would go also. If grownups
couldn't keep their promises why
should a little boy stay at home when
his best friend was sent away to starye.
AT this thought Tom sat down and
Rugged the yellow cur close. With
doggish sympathy the pup responded
with moist tongue and a 1udicrous
attempt at wagging his stump of a
tail.
Toms misery had reached the
breaking point. Tears were near, al
tho still held bravely back He had
walked miles and miles. No one had
seen him. No one had seen him leave
the house. Had he but known it, he
was very lost little boy with the
whole neighborhood searching for
him far and wide. This was not sur
prising. Tempted by the shade of big
trees, Tom had left the main thoro-
fare and wandered down a Unlicensed
road that carried him farther and far
Their away from the usual haunts of
men. Now he was very tired and very
hungry. With his arms about the
yellow cur, tears just glistening on
eyelashes that rested lightly against
berry stained cheeks, he slept the
sleep of exhaustion, half hidden in
the grass by the roadside close to the
end of nowhere.
A few yards farther on the road
ended in front of a house, a log house
with a deep, screened porch and a gay
flower border at one side. The forest
trees grew close and within a ctone's
| throw were the CLINT of murmuring
water and a sailboat Juggling at its
anchor.
| The place was lonely. Somebody's
summer camp and that somebody was
leaning moodily against a tree writ
| Ting. So absorbed was he in his
thoughts he did not see small object
come toward him and pause, pleading
eyes fixed on his face. There was a
whine. He looked up, then down. Be-
fore him was a mongrel cur, paws
hanging, one ear cooked, the other
limp.
The man laughed, then said wh:ms-
ically: well, old fellow, I'm glad to
see you. Where did you come from?
You are not much to look at, but 1
shall be glad of your company 1t was
| growing devilish lonely
He stopped, but the dog whisked
away from the kindly hand and sat
| down farther away.
| "Ohl that's it." the man said. You
want me to go with you? All right.
Lead and 1 will follow" And follow
h n doo a1n laxy
something lying beside the road.
The man gave a low whistle as he
| looked down at the boy. Then he
gathered him into his arms and hur-
| ried back to the house. AS he laid
him on a couch, Tom opened his eyes.
you told me you lived at the end
of nowhere. Uncle Jack, and L came
near not finding you,' Ne murmured.
But just had to find you, for I'm in
lots of trouble
We'll. son, you found me. all right,
and from appearances you were some
time about it. So you are in trouble,
are you? That's funny. So am l. So
| deep in trouble that you and I will
form a company. And Wen give it a
name, too. How does Misery & Com
pany sound to you?"
Misty & Company? Why, that's
fine, Uncle Jack! rs been so miserable
an knew soon as I found you that
you would know all about it an help
| me-" The voice trailed off as the
1 telephone rang. 1t had been ringing
for some time, but Jack Crowthers
had not heard it. When he took down
the receiver the voice at the other end
made him knit his brows.
tom is here he made answer to
some inquiry You are coming?"
His own voice showed his surprise at
what reached him over the line. THE
child is safe. I don't know what the
trouble is, but there is really no need
for you to take the drive. It is late
and I will keep him with me for the
night AS you wish, if you really pre-
fer to come. OF course, will see you
home Not necessary? You must al
low me to be the judge of that he
| answered shortly. He put up the re-
ceiver and turned to the sleeping child.
well, youngster, whatever your
trouble. whatever has been mine.
neither is anything to what is before
me during the next hour What pos
sesses the soul of women, and your
Aunt Marys in particular. is beyond
my limited knowledge. Trouble!
i Yours and mine! I well named it,
1 Misery & Company, but did not know
the depths the company might reach"
| He laughed grimly as he tossed an ex-
ira log upon the fire, for the June
| night was cold. Fate surely is a fac
tor in a mans destiny" he thought,
land fate. as understand it, has come
to me this night in the guise of my
/ small nephew
/ He threw himself into a chair and
did not move until he heard the purr-
/ ing of a car as it came slowly up the
i lane.
! The woman who entered a moment
/ later did not look at him she
/ crossed the room and knelt beside
the child. She lifted the two dirty
little hands and laid them against her
1 cheeks, then she raised a white strain
Il ed face to the man who stood beside
the fireplace
4 How did he get there?" she asked
Il t.An I know is that a little yellow
i dog took me to him. Jack Crawford 8
/ answered soberly.
i I'VE have looked for him all day. L
did not think of his trying to find you