Northern Wisconsin advertiser. [volume] (Wabeno, Wis.) 1898-1925, 1916-08-18

suddenly NoltdpScU III RANT
dance palaces, and all-night restau-
rants he went, and even to places of
worse repute. But he never set eyes
upon her.
One day he saw crossing Broadway
at Forty-second street, his old play.
mate, Gertrude Jordan. She had
grown stout and matronly, since he had
seen her last, but there was look up
on her face which he had never known
in the old days, and which made her
homely features almost beautiful.
Then he recognized the cause, for be-
side her was the stalwart foreman-hus-
band, now the manager of Jordan's
and on his shoulder was a chubby,
two-year-old boy.
Jock did not try to speak to them.
There, except for my fathers med
ding" he muttered bitterly, goes
Amy Prentice and myself"
But at last he found her. 1t was
just as he had often pictured it. She
was at fast restaurant with a gay
party.
He paused beside her.
Amy" he said.
She glanced up at him quickly, and
half drew back, her face paling under
the rouge.
Il am going to take you home, and
let you change that gown for some
thing more suitable" he said as he
led her to the door, and then we're
going over to Jersey and get married.
l have friend there who will man
age the license for u.s."
oh, no, Jock" she faltered. ITS
too late. Don't you understand? l
could never be your wife--anybody's
wife now"
She would have said more, perhaps.
but at that minute, the manager from
the department store, beginning to
sense what was in the wind, strobe
forward.
go back to your seat" he ordered
dropping a heavy hand upon her
shoulder.
Almost simultaneously, Jocks fist
shot out and the manager went down
to the floor with a crash that nearly
knocked the glasses off the tables.
A dozen walters rushed forward to
interpose; but before they could get
half way across the room, Jock had
whisked Amy out of the door, and in
to taxi-cab standing in front. A mo-
ment later they were whirling off to
her apartment
Hurry now, dearest" he urged her,
as he opened the door with the key
she gave him, and they passed inside
together. Il am going to telephone
the minister at Hoboken that we will
be there in half an hour"
But again doubts and compunctions
assailed her.
The past is past, Amy" he said
masterfully. I'VE have both gone
wrong, and have suffered for 1t. But
the future is ours, and by the Eternal.
Wen share it together
Suddenly, the door was dashed open,
and the enraged manager, wild
eyed and hatless and disheve,ed,
confronted them with a revolver in his
hand.
The next morning, jeremiah Mccall
picked up his newspaper and read that
his son had shot and killed Amy Prem
tice and then killed himself. There
was nothing in the account to indicate
what had been their direct motive.
But jeremiah Mccall raised his eyes
grimly to the text on his office wall:
"The Wages OF Sin Is Death
The newspaper account of the trag-
edy of these two young lives gave Jere-
miah Mccall no hint that the manager
of the department store had followed
his quarry, taken his desperate re-
venge and made good his escape. The
police were satisfied with the evidence
that appeared to their eyes, bat the
moral law still questions:
WHO'S GUILTY."
(END OF SECOND SToRY)