The Red Cloud chief., 1917-01-25
MATCHMAKER
BY ANNE RICHMOND.

IL was WdIm uHy III April anu
old Bolts was sitting Just in front OF
his shop door when along came a
dainty figure Of girl with a large
square package.
Il have some books to SELL" she
said.
The fact that she was shabby and
that the dark blue suit she wore was
almost as faded as his own served as
a tie Of sympathy.
So 1t was that he bought the books
without looking at them more than
specifically, and paid her what with
him was a maximum price-25 cents a
volume.
She was Miss Pansy Mead and her
address was the fifth floor back in a
lodging house in little side street
near by.
Then, when Pansy had gone, he
looked at the books for which he
had paid $3.75-a sum which the
timid Pansy had seized with avidity.
The secondhand man knew that look
OF eagerness, for often the wares he
bought were sold for the price OF
meal or nights shelter.
The books seemed to be fairly new.
For this reason he determined to put
them in one Of the shelves in place
OF some OF the less attractive volumes
that were then occupying the place
Of honor
But when he looked closer at the
books he was more than amazed.
Some OF the volumes In the set we're
missing.
He waited for a few days, thinking
that perhaps the original owner would
return with the missing volumes, but
he waited in vain. Then, one day, he
climbed up to the little bare room at
the address she had given. He found
the girl surrounded by piles Of half
sewed white garments.
He explained to her what he sup
posed had been her mistake and the
girl seemed not in the least surprised.
Il am sorry" she said, "and
would like to give you back the
money you gave me, but I am very
poor. Perhaps in few weeks shall
have more sewing to do and then
will bring 1t around. The money
raised on the books made It possible
for me to make the first payment ON
sewing machine. Then I was able
to get this work to do. But they pay
SO poorly; until l become expert it
means hardly enough to pay the rent
and for my simple meals. The worst
of it is that do not possess the miss
ing volumes. They were given to me
this way and had to sell them"
What was Old Bolts to to do?
II was pleasant sitting out Of doors,
and the secondhand man was musing,
over the fumes Of his pipe. Then a
brisk, well-dressed man approached
"Tve got some books for sale III let
you have them for a song. It's more
to have them out Of the way than any.
thing else that l am bringing them to
you. There are fifteen volumes. I'll
let you have them for ten cents
apiece. l know that's cheap, but, to
tell you the truth, they won't be Of
much use to you.s They are missing
volumes. Here are the first and third
volumes Of the 'Vicomte de Brage-
| lonne," he continued.
The young man opened the suitcase
and took out the handsomely bound
books. Old Bolts stared and interrupt
ed the stranger.
And there's the second volume Of
Monte Cristo.'" he said, without
looking at the books. And the odd.
numbered volumes of Grote's History
of Greece and"
How did you know" asked the
younger man, amazement written all
over his face.
The old man led the way inside his
little shop and pointed to the collec-
tion Of books he had placed there two
months ago.
So the matchmaking was begun.
How the secondhand man knew that
there was little romance at issue
is hard to tell. For his life, spent
among old furniture and dilapidated
kitchen wares and dusty old books,
would hardly have given him any intu-
ition in affairs OF that sort.
He told the young man of the
pretty little girl who had brought the
heavy bundle to him and Of his later
visit to her humble quarters.
she said she would come around to
pay me for the books which | told
her would be Of no use to me and |
know she will keep her word. But
now she need not. | will buy your
batch for twenty-five cents apiece.
They are all in good condition"
Not II | know it-you won't buy
them said the young man. "Ill pay
you seventy-five cents for each of your
volumes II you say so. Where did
you say the girl was staying?"
In a minute more, the young man
was off, and il was not till two or
three hours later that he returned.
Il thought l would explain how IL
happened he said on his return
You see. Miss Mead and l were en-.
gagged, and 1t was all my fault that