Chicago eagle. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1889-19??, 1917-10-20
A ElEART STORY.
Dy WILLARD CHALLONER.


Warren Deane in positive burst OF
ecstasy.
"Two hundred, my dear fellow" cor
rected Rupert Thrnll, picture broker.
"Why do you minimize II really pretcn.
tious streak of fortune"
Because | agreed to give you i'm
even half of whatever The Masquera
dcrS' sold for
1--WE will waive that in this IN.
stance Thrall asserted. "Tve got faith
IN you, in your ability and in your final
fame and fortune, therefore | insist
on financing you, to an extent, and
making up for 1t when | am selling
your pictures at thousands instead of
hundreds. So I decline to take my
commission, provided you follow my
directions explicitly as to the invest
ment of the money"
"And that ISL" submitted Warren.
"Take vacation"
Warren Deanc had been home boy,
living quiet life with his widowed
mother until she died. Alone In the
world. he followed the bent of his
mind In the direction of art and liter
allure.
The sale of "The MasQueraders" was
his first streak of luck. He followed
the advice of the only friend he had
found I'm the great wilderness of the
city, the picture broker, and two days
later was established I'm quiet village
boarding house ut Virden, and roam.
ing the hills with easel and color box,
seeking subjects and studies.
One morning he was sketching out
in crayon dell outline upon the can
vas, when little miss of about five
passed along woodland path fringing
the deep gully beyond. A great bushy
dog frisked about her. Her charming
face, her graceful bow attracted him
and irresstibly his eyes followed her.
Suddenly, appalled,, he sprang to his
feet from the camp stool. In switching
about her. the dog brushed too close
to the child--shc toppled, and went out
of sight over the edge of the cliff.
Shocked, half-stunned, shuddering,
Warren ran to the ledge. a great sigh
of hope rent his lips as, five feet down,
he saw the child wcdged against u
slanting rock and crying with fright
and clinging to fruil bush. Beneath
yawned an abyss.
Don't move! Don't let gow cried
Warren. He was trembling all over
rs he let himself over the ledge. He
uttered n gasp of JOY as his feet were
anchored. Slowly lifting the child, he
pushed her beyond the ledge, climbed
up himself, and fell upon Il log, breath
less and exhausted.
Warren soothcd her and carried her
to where his easel stood, and placed
her on the camp stool.
"Now you must rest, and then go
right home, and don't ever get so near
the ravne again." he said.
"And I'll tell Maudie how good you
are, and she'll just love you," prattled
the innocent. "And-oh. my! I'll get
some more doughnuts and bring them
here. and 1t will be my picnic and you
are invited. Won't that be grand?"
Warren resumed his work. Sure
enough, ut the end of two hours the
little one renppcarcd. She carried n
paper bag. which she placed carefully
on the stool.
81 told sister Maudie, and she said
I must thank you, and bring you home
with me, for her to thank YOU
| And then little Winnie questioned
him about the easel, and his being
| hot tiSt
He caught her pose with true artists
eye rs, on tip.toe, she held one of the
doughnuts above her head, the dog
standing on his hind feet and reaching
for It,
Don't move-keep that way or
dered Warren In Il fever of enthusiasm
while he skctchcd the presentation
rapidly. "Ill make II canvas of It.
That will do"
Warren tried to evade going home
with little Winnie, though invited, but
she was persistent. When he came &c
meet Maude Springer, whom he never
afterwards forgot, she was all thai
was lovely, dainty and gentle.
One day ut the village he learned
that Maude Springer, although sht
lived humbly, was heiress to one OF thu
largest estates in the district. TIT
same day he packed up his kit dis
consolately. He would never tell hi
love!
II will not even tell her good-by--
il is better to go now, before l suffe
more deeply" he unused. wonder
though, what she would think II
told her that loved her, and aske'
her to become the wife of poor blu
devoted sutton, and
All of this was whnt Warren Dean
wrote as n story In the woodland de-
? that sunny, last afternoon in para
disc. It was his true heart story. Ii
! left the sheets across the camp stoO
, AS ne proceeded some distance away
take down and pack up hammock h
4 had strung between two trees In
2 shady nook.
He came back to get his other traI
q together, little knowing that durin
his absence Maude Springer had visit,
b the spot. She read the pathetic hea
k story. Then she took up Its last pat
!. and added-"fnis! !"
And tins was the "finis" that Wa
l. rem Deane found added to his trl
Y heart story:
u g. and Maude Springer won
have said yes and the bright desl
x of her life would be to lay at the fe
j. of the man she loved not only her 10