Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1916-04-11

I suavely, as to the nature of your oc-
! cupation. What commodities do you
turn out? What tools and material do
you require?"
Paper and ink" she laughed. and,
oh! also typewriter"
You are Maud Brewster" l said
slowly and with certainty, almost as
though l were charging her with a
crime
Her eyes lifted curiously to mine.
How do you know?"
Aren't your" l demanded.
She acknowledged her identity with
a nod. 1t was Wolf Larsen's turn to
be puzzled. The name and it's magic
signified nothing to him. | was proud
that it did mean something to me, and
for the first time in a weary while
was cOnvincingly conscious of su-
periority over him.
Il remember writing a review of a
thin little volume" l had begun
carelessly, when she interrupted me.
"You!" she cried. You are"
She was now staring at me in wide
eyed wonder.
nodded my identity, in turn.
Humphrey Van Weyden," she con-
cluded; then added with a sigh of re-
lief, and unaware that she had glanced
that relief at Wolf Larsen, 81 am so
glad"
Il remember the review" she went
hoofiIu hnnnrniT0 IF q
awkwardness of her remark; that too,
/ too f1attering review"
Not at ALL" denied valiantly. You
impeach my sober judgment and make
my canons of little worth. Besides,
all my brother critics we're with me-
Didn't Lang include your Kiss En-
dured among the four supreme SON.
nets by women in the English Ian
guage?"
You are very kind, am sure" she
murmured; and the very convention
ality of her tones and words, with the
host of associations it aroused of the
old life on the other side of the world,
gave me a quick thrill-rich with re-
membrance but singing sharp with
inconsistencies.
And you are Humphrey Van Wey-
den," she said, gazing back at me with
equal solemnity and awe. How I'M
usual! | don't understand We sure
ly are not to expect some wildly ro-
mantle sea story from your sober
penn"
7 Oaf ;oI
assure you," was my answer. Il have
neither aptitude nor inclination for
fiction"
Tell me, why have you always
buried yourself in Californian she
next asked. 1T has not been kind Of
you. We of the East have seen so
very little of you-too little, indeed,
of the Dean of American Letters, the
Second"
bowed to, and disclaimed, the COM
pliment. Il nearly met you, once, in
Philadelphia, some Browning affair or
other-you were to lecture, you know.
My train was four hours late"
And then we quite forgot where we
were, leaving Wolf Larsen stranded
and silent in the midst of our flood
of gossip. The hunters left the table
and went on deck, and still we talked.
Wolf Larsen alone remained. Sudden
ly | became aware of him, leaning
back from the table and listening Gu
riously to our alien speech of world
he did not know.
l broke short off in the middle of
sentence. The present, with all its
perils and anxieties, rushed upon ME
with stunning force. 1t smote Miss
Brewster likewise, vague and name
less terror rushing into her eyes as
she regarded Wolf Larsen.
He rose to his feet and laughed awk-
wardly The sound of it was metallic.
"Oh, don't mind me-" he said, with
a self-depreciatory wave of his hand.
q don't count. Go on, go on, pray
you"
But the gates of speech were closed,
and we. too, rose from the table and
laughed awkwardly.