Ottumwa semi-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1916-1918, 1917-02-02
Epening Story
AN UNSENT LETTER.
BY Susan E. clagett.
Copyright, 1917. by Mcclure News
paper Syndicate.)

Jim Chapman started as the front
door slammed, then he muttered IN
evaporation:
'To think should come to this from
a little touch of fever! Nerves! |
thought I had no nerves"
AS q matter Of fact. it had been
severe attack of typhoid, with so lin
eering a convalescence that his ply
sician ordered him to return to the
empty old house in New England that
had been his boyhood home If he
wished to regain his strength.
you can send rugs and furniture
for two rooms said the physician.
THE rest can he furnished later.
Your man, Williams. is a good COOK
and can care for You until you Sc
cure a housekeeper It Is your best
chance for health Jim, and go you
must"
To the last he had protested, but
without avail, and now he had been
in the New England village for A
week, literally confined to the house,
as he had broken his ankle upon his
own doorstep.
Seated in his sitting room he looked
helplessly around as doors and win
dow blinds banged A gust Of wind
blew through the room, scattering pa
pers in all directions. He made a
movement toward his crutches, but
could not trust himself and sank back
into his chair with savage word.
'eWhere the devil is William? That
fellow is never where he's wanted
Ill"
"W1ll | answer" pleasant voice
asked, and without waiting for re-
ply a blue gowned figure crossed the
room. hastily secured the blinds and
closed the windows.
II saw William ahead Of me as
was blown through your front door.
He had something in his arms that
was giving him trouble. Here liz IS.
Good gracious!'
Jim turned his head as his man
came into the room carrying a kicking
suuirming bundle which he put has
tily down.
"Sure. Mr.. Jim, I hopes you'll never
send me again for such a little tiger
cat. She wouldn't walk, and when
carried her. all the thanks l got was
kicks and scratches. Whatever are
"I don't know, William. Perhaps
we will see the light later on. l think
some tea will give me strength to
face this catastrophe. Miss Hill. I am
sure. would like a cup and don't fot'
get a glass of milk. for your tiger
cat"
II amt no tiger cat" came with a
suppressed sob from the small being
on the hearth rug.
Jim looked at the child with curious
resentment, but Miss Hill, who had
been listening in undisguised amaze
ment came forward. "Of course not,
dear. Jim and William we're just try
ing to be funny" AS she talked she
had removed the child's wraps and
now lifted her to her lap. why,
what have you here?" feeling some
thing move in the little girls dress
waist. Slipping in her hand she
brought to light coal black kitten.
Its my good luck pussy Daddy
told me I could bring It," she said
chokingly. ooh l want my daddy.
I want my daddy! He didn't call me
tiger cat" and the child burrowed
her head in the lace at Miss Hills
throat.
The two grown ups looked at each
other in silence as she sobbed herself
into a heavy sleep. Then only did
Kate Hill speak.
What is it all about. Jim?'
He silently handed her a letter and
she read:
Dear Jim-When this reaches you
! will have passed into the unknown
country. Because of the closeness Of
our friendship l am sending you the
delight of my heart. Her mother Is
dead and she has not a relative in
the world. / leave a little property
that Is well invested suffl Gent for her
needs. Am too tired now to write
more. Yours, TOM
THAT came this morning, and sent
That came this morning and | sent
William to the station, although | did
not expect the child Evidently she
was expressed at once. Poor Tom!
He went to Colorado hoping the
change would prolong his life
Poor little waif!" she said softly.
81 would take her home with me, but
am going away this afternoon. I can
help you, however. My housekeeper's
sister has lost her child. She needs a
home and will suit you. will send
her over
THANK you. Did you say You are
going away? This Is the first time
have seen you and | have the storm
to thank for the glimpse. The thought
that ! should find you when this con-
founded ankle lets me get about has
been the one comfort l have had
throughout this lonely week. can't
you put it Off" he asked boyishly.
She shook her head, then laughed
do | owe this sudden popularity to
your aversion to loneliness. Jim. or to
the child.
ITO neither, Kate" he answered so
berly Il wanted to see you for old
times sake We used to have some
pleasant days together and l hoped
we might return to them. I will be
your neighbor for many months and
the sooner we forget the years that
lie between now and then the bet
ter"
I'VE will talk about it when | come
back" she replied evasively. For the
present. l think this child should be
in bed. will carry her upstairs If you
foil mo uhora Che iS RI cleoD ooJ will