Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1918-10-03

ZIG MOuOlOuy VI luICAcSS IudL liheu
her. She had acquired the habit Of
work, and that is a thing not lightly
shaken off. But during that day she
gathered together the different Gran
vile papers, and went carefully owe
the "want" columns. Knowing the
town as she did, she was enabled to
eliminate the unlikely, undesirable
places. Thus by evening she was
armed with a list Of firms and individ-
uals requiring a stenographer. And
in the morning she sailed forth.
Her quest ended with the first place
she sought. The fact of two years.
service with the biggest firm in Gran
vile was ample recommendations; in
addition to which the Office manager, it
developed in their conversation, had
known her father in years gone by.
So before ten o'clock Miss Hazel Weir
was entered OF the pay roll Of a fur
niture-manufacturing house. 1t was
not a permanent position; n of their
girls had been taken i'll and was likely
to take up her duties again in six
weeks or two months. But that suited
Hazel all the better. She could put
in the time usefully, and have a breath
ing spell before her wedding.
Three days went by. Hazel attended
the concert with Jack the evening Of
the day Mr.. Andrew Bush received os-
tentatious burial. At ten the next
morning the telephone girl called her.
"Someone wants you on the phone,
Miss Weir" she said.
Hazel took up the dangling receiver.
"Hello!"
"That you, Hazel?"
She recognized the voice, half guess
ing it would be he, since no one but
Jack Barrow would be likely to ring
her up.
"Surely. Doesn't it sound like me?"
"Have you seen the morning pa
pers?"
"No. What"
"Look 'em over. Particularly the
Gazette"
The harsh rattle of a receiver
slammed back on its hook without
SfCA q SOOu-Dy llOIA Hill OIL uCh 1lCl
like a slap in the face. She hung up
slowly, and went back to her work.
Never since their first meeting, and
they had not been exempt from lovers
quarrels, had Jack Barrow ever spo-
ken to her like that. Even through the
voice grated on her and mystified her.
She "a chained to her work-which,
despite her agitation, she managed to
wade through without any radical err
rors-until noon. The twelve-to-one
intermission gave her opportunity to
hurry up the street and buy a Gazette.
Then, instead Of going home to her
luncheon, she entered the nearest res
taurant. She wanted a chance to read,
more than food. She did not unfold
the paper until she was seated.
A column heading on the front page
caught her eye. The caption read:
ANDREW Bush Leaves Money to Ste
n~ographer." And under it the SUBJ
head: "Wealthy Manufacturer Makes
Peculiar Request to Miss Hazel Weir"
The story ran a full column, and had
to do with his interment. There was
q great deal Of matter anent the prin-
cipal benef1ciaries. But that which
formed the basis of the heading was a
codicil appended to the will a few
hours before his death, in which he did
"give and %bequeath to Hazel Weir, I'M
til lately in my employ, the sum Of
five thousand dollars in reparation for
any wrong I may have done her"
Hazel stared at the sheet, and her
face burned. She could understand
now why Jack Barrow had hung up
his receiver with a slam. She could
picture him reading that article and
gritting his teeth. Her hands clenched
till the knuckles stood white under
the smooth skin, and then quite alb
ruptly she got up and left the restau-
rant even while a waiter hurried to
take her order. If she had been a
man, and versed in profanity, she
could have cursed Andrew Bush till
his soul shuddered on its Journey
through infinite space. Being a woman,
she wished only a quiet place to cry,