Grand Forks herald. [volume] (Grand Forks, N.D.) 1916-1955, 1918-10-30
that meant nothing. nothing. moth.
CHAPTER XXI.
Journeys End.

CHAPTER XXI.
Journeys End. l'
Through the burning sunlight, Ad-
am wendell a cheerful way toward
the river, taking the long. hot walk
to marching time, and whistling as
he went. oblivious of the heat, of the
people who turned to smile after him,
marking him out for a lover, unmind-
ful OF the places ho passed, knowing
nothing indeed but the glory Of be.
ing alive and on his way to Her, He
was even unconscious Of what tune he
whistled, making the p%iercingly
sweet music as naturally as he
breathed:
Careless Love, careless Love,
Do come home!!"
l.. A pair Of street prchins ran against
him in their play, and he scarcely
knew what had struck him, continu-
ing the long, shadeless path with
swinging step. Presently the ferry
house came in sight; a dismal pile
OF dull-red Victorian architecture,
Jutting grotesquely over the river at
the end Of a long pier whose piles,
like the hundred legs of some giant
centipede, carried it far out into the
current: 1t was hideous beyond
words, but to Adam it was a thing of
beauty. for it led to the riverway,
and the shore beyond. !. . He
turned down the hill toward it, and
along the stean1ing planks of the
ferry, where a solitary 'dray with
great Flanders horses waited patient
ly> for the opening of the gates. The
clock above them, a gigantic thing
Cat amid a e,or4Il Srvon1, 30 r:&.-z a-5
naiads of terra-cotta-painted wood.
read fifteen minutes to three. Well,
no matter if it were early! Better
to wait here, carer his destination,
tha to be fuming endlessly at the
shack, unable to work or read, I'M
able to start; able only to pull out
his watch again and again. wonder
ing whether it had stopped. He
passed into the shade of the ticket
office, smiling at the agent with such
delightful Sfriendliness that that sour,
harassed individual smiled in answer
before he realized what he was about.
and quickly forced himself to scowl
again as he showed the ticket out.
Next boat?" asked Adam. Three
o'clock" said the mar and buried
himself in h sporting sheet of his
paper. Adam wandered out through
the evil-odored waiting room, with
its row upon row Of empty benches.
its. dk~consolate kiosk of fly-specked
magazines and bon-bon boxes. its
sleeping attendant n general air of
weekday desolation. On Saturdays
and Sundays 1t would spring into sud-
den life, swarm with picnickers,
their noisy hustle and bright clothing
surging gaily through the shabby,
echoing cavern. He dropped his
ticket into the little ballot box. swung
through the gate, and settled himself
on "a pile-head to survey the river.
The slow-whecling gulls circled with
dropping wings incurved, the yellow
brown water curled and sucked about
the pier. the fortress Of golden cliffs
opposite. cross the water. stretched
northward mile on mile, with, a fringe
of green along the tops. The woods,
the woods! Soon he could cross to
them-to her! His hand, injured
anew from the pounding on her door
on the night just passed, was again
Der to keep it there for long at a
time. and now he pulled it out to feel
for her letter. It was not in the in
ner pocket! TIe 'patted both outer
pockets then. but no crackle an
swered. Their the other places, likely
and unlikely, were searched-in vain.
Where the. deuce had he put the
thing? He must have left it at
home! Well. it was not likely he
were too well burned upon his con-
seriousness! 1t was merely that he
wanted to look at it once more-her
first note to him-and after such
a time, too!
1t seemed the most precious thing
in the world, and he devoutly hoped
that he had put it in some place of
safety. This vas the sort Of thing
one wanted to keep. you know. :.
Something important has hap
pened,' she said. What? For the
had in some way incurred the dis
pleasure Of her father. he supposed,
neutrality-suspicious. only knew
what! But whatever service she re-
quired, how gladly he would render
it! What a wonderful girl! She had
read his letter n seen that it was
true, and come back to him, simply,
completely, like the thoroughbred
she was, God bless Ter! He hoped
ally difficult, in order. hat he might
prove himself. He would do any
thing, anything. What a beastly
shame it was hat there were no
longer any dragons and the things
going around loose, for a fellow to
STAY, or turneys where n put on ar
NOR and rod at another chap in
iron overalls and slew him! Those
were the days when could do
heroic things, beautifully. When one
was praised for showing sentiment
and romance. instead Of being
laughed at for it!
Laughed at! Why. one went around
s%uccoring ladies in distress, doing
good, and all that, and nobody
laughed. While nowadays nobody
got a chance to be chivalrous! He
wished devoutly that he had done
something fine, rescued some WON
an, fought romantic fights!
How Eve would laugh at him for
these flights of fancy! She would
understand them. but she would
pooh-pooh them, and say a lot of
things about helping on social justice
and the romance Of modern industry.
And probably she would be right; she
usually was right! Yet all such
things seemed remote from him now.
far more so than knights. in armor,
red-plumed helmet pageantries,
draeops. and castles which held un-
willing maidens in captive. These
were close to the warm feeling in his
breast. and he sighed to think how
he had net no romance. no heroic
deeds. no superb altruism