Cheyenne record., 1916-11-02
EvELYN's HOLIDAY
BY IzoLA FORESTER.

where are you going over Labor
day, Miss BennettT
The little fluffy-haired stenographer
near the window was always asking
impromptu questions more or less en-
barrassing.
Evelyn colored ever SO slightly as
she bent to sign the last batch Of let
| ters.
II hardly think shall get away. ]
| am taking home some new estimates
to go over"
you're an awful goose to work SO
hard. You don't get any thanks for 1t,
can tell you that right now. heard
Mr.. Dorrance tell Jimmie that you
were working yourself to death and
you'd die in harness in the fOrties.
You bet won't"
After the others had left the office.
Evelyn sat at her desk as usual, going
over the last duties Of the day when
the office was quiet. And somehow
the words Of the little stenographer
kept recurring to her. Was she wrong
to let life slip by without any real fun7
She was twenty-seven, private secre-
tary to Gates Waring, the civil engf-
neer. He was out of town great
deal of the time, and left the detail
of the Office to her absolutely. Eve
lyn liked to think she was essential to
him. Yet his words were always few
and impersonal.
He was on his way north now, she
knew. A wire that morning stated he
would leave Washington Monday morn
ing. The office would be closed Labor
day. She had plenty of opportunity
to go away for the day. And, before
she knew 1t, she had begun to plan.
The next morning early she found
herself on a jammed platform in Jer-
sey, waiting for the excursion cars to
be opened up. She had planned
ride of an hour, then a wonderful trip
on lake, and hours to spare on the
veranda of big hotel.
She had brought some magazines to
read on the train. 1t must have been
three-quarters of an hour before there
came the long, shrill whistle again
and again from the engine and the
grinding of the brakes.
"It isn't our train," somebody near
said after the brakeman had passed
through. lue washington express
hit q freight"
Evelyn heard and rose. OF course,
1t could not be his train, and still she
found herself moving along with the
crowd in the aisles down the car
length, out on the platform, down be-
side the track.
The engine Of the express seemed
to have tried to climb UP the caboose
OF the freight.
mo one was hurt?' she asked the
man next her.
"Guess the engineers killed. They
say he's jammed down under some
pipes. They're afraid the currents
got him. There's a fellow from the
express gone up after him."
Gone up after him? She looked
again at the upreared mass. She
could see mans figure now moving
down in the twisted jammed mass
the man who was endangering his
own life from live wires on the big
electric engine. Tense and rigid, she
waited with the others until the man
came slowly, surely, struggling out
with a limp burden In his arms.
"He's not dead yet" sch heard him
say, and at the sound Of his voice she
ran forward, ran like child up to
where he stood with both arms held
out.
"Oh, Mr.. Waring, can help"
His face and clothes were begrimed
and his hands burned. But he turned
to look at her with his curious smile
of amused contentment with life In
general.
do you know where there's fresh
water?"
'There's a brook right in the field
here" called out boy from the
neighborhood. "Tl show you"
She followed Waring to it, helped
him as he knelt down to bathe his
face, and tried to bandage his hands
with strips of torn-up handkerchiefs.
And while they stayed there, the
sounded.
81 haven't anything on It," Evelyn
said. "Never mind If It does go with
out me. I was just going up to the
lake for the day. But I'll stay with
you now. think you need me-"
"I think I always need you," War
ing answered quickly. "It will be
hours before they clear away that
wreckage. Let's picnic by ourselves
over here"
Evelyn never forgot that day. They
found walk up through the fields
that led to a ridge of woodland. Dim
ner was eaten at little farmhouse.
''This is the happiest holiday I've
ever had. I'd like to buy this farm
and keep it."
''What fort" Evelyn leaned forward.