Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1918-05-17
TheIIelper
Copyright. 1917. Western Newspaper union.1
By MYRTLE BARRiNcER

n DlTu With IL DrOheu wing, OD-
served John Roscoe, banker. "That
about expresses it"
1t did, indeed, for although the allu-
sion covered a human being, the same
Warren Boyd, was IN Of those fine
sterling natures that made one seek
for sentiment and delicacy in describ-
ing him. He was passing down the
street ~engrossed in sad and serious
thoughts, and his bearing was that of
a man carrying a heavy burden.
81 like and respect the fellow" the
magnate continued, "but he is too deep
in for me to help. It's a pity, though,
some strong financing power could not
come to his aid. His project is sane,
worthy, and it's execution would be a
credit to the town."
Capable, intelligent, not yet thirty,
Warren Boyd felt like a knight errant
endorsed at the first round in the
tournament of effort and ambition. His
powers of vision were strong, his ideals
high and all his sympathies along the
line of concrete good to humanity. He
had owned a full square of ground in
Lowden, and had aimed to make it a
nucleus for an institution where home
less or abandoned children, wherever
found, should find a refuge amidst
country air, and vernal surroundings.
Boyd donated the land. He proposed
building a forty thousand-dollar struc-
ture, comfortable and modern in all of
it's appointments. He relied or outside
donations to operate this asylum, and
the promise of these from social settle
ment and religious centers was encour-
aging. Finally he found a ~benevolently
inclined man of means who agreed to
advance the money needed, accepting
as security a bond issue covering site
and improvements.
The money vas paid into the local
bank as needed. The walls Of the
building began to rise. Then came a
terrible blow to the sanguine Boyd. He
was dazed when the banker informed
him that his philanthropic hacker had
failed, with less than half the money
promised provided.
"Boyd's folly" people called this
wreck of a true mans hopes. Boyd
sought aid vainly. He left the village
one day, almost aimlessly following a
secluded road. He had got so that he
summed company, and as he saw a lit
tie ahead a man and woman standing
under a tree he turned aside. Boyd rec
ognized the lady. She vas Mrs. Helen
Wayne, who had come to the town a
few months agone and had settled
down to a secluded life at The Pop
lars, as If some mystery surrounded
her life.
Finally Boyd discerned that the two
had separated, the lady pursuing her
way In the direction of her home. Boyd
resumed his stroll. AS he neared the
spot where the two had stood he
paused to pick up a little package. 1t
was held together by an elastic band
and appeared to comprise letters or
documents. On the outside was writ
ten the name: "Helen Wayne"
"Of course the lady dropped it," rea-
soned Boyd, and hurried after Mrs.
Wayne.
Madam" he detained her, 81 found
this packet where you were standing
down the road" His courtesy, his fine
statuesque face, his respectful manner
enlisted the attention of the lady. She
smiled her thanks. Then, half opening
the packet, a mufled scream escaped
her lips.
pardon mel thank you. You have
you have saved mel"
Boyd noted her confusion and agita-
ton in open amazement. Mrs. Wayne
fairly reeled as she made her way
homeward.
The next day a telephone message
summoned Boyd to the bank. MI. Ros-
coe greeted him with genial smile and
handshake.
81 have great news for you," he an
nounced. "a person, not wishing to
be known for the present, called upon
me this morning and offered to take up
the forty thousand-dollar bonds we
hold in escrow, pay back Blake the
money he has advanced and finance
you for the full completion Of your
building"
"Oh, it cannot be true!" gasped the
bewildered Boyd.
But 1t was true, and hope, conf
dence, glowing happiness seemed to fill
his being, renewed. Once more, his
heart In his work, Warren Boyd started
forth a man among men. And then
one day the banker told him the name
of his mysterious almoner-Mrs. Helen
Wayne.
Boyd was not the mar to repress his
emotion. Once again at her lonely, but
lovely home, he infused her with his
own fervent idealism as he poured
forth his thanks.
The nobility of his nature inspired
her to tell him her life history. An
unworthy husband had died, leaving
her a fortune. Their marriage had
been q hasty one and there had ap-