The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1919-10-17
EVENING STORY
What a Man Did.
BY WILL T. AMES.

BY WILL T. AMES.
This is a story out of life-out of the
life that is lived; that has its tragedy
as well as its sunshine; that comes to
the happy ending or to the sorrowful
one as the case may be, and not as
the narrator wills. If it is not just
the kind of story you would wish it
to be search thru ancestries, analyze
prenatal influences and place the
blame where it belongs. Do not blame
me.
June Phillips was the daughter of
her mother and she of her mother;
and the mothers mother the daughter
of still another like mother And
down that line of motherhood had run
a streak of Hghtsomeness, and no
strain of eager willingness.
Easy. smiling, gay was June, beauti-
full with the beauty of great tawny
eyes, dark lashes and hair with the
CLINT of mellow sunlight in it. She
was soft and warm and poutlng; en-
dowed at once with the lavish lure OF
womanheod and with the pink and
creamy freshness of her scant seven
teen years. She drove John Halliday
half mad.
John was twenty three and might
have been ten years more than that
by the settled, strong way of hlm. In
stead of school he had chosen to take
sixteen. Already he was a finished
draughtsman and on his way to
place in his profession. Holly, his
watohful employer, always main
tanned.
To June fluttering breathlessly. on
the margin of never endns milieh-
nium of grown-up good times, the
attentions of the responsible, well
proomed Young architect combined the
virtues of continual social triumph
with limitless opportunity; for John
delighted to take the girl about: A
wear of this and then, because john
was insistent and the girl was the
daughter of that particular race OF
mothers and possessed keen instinct
for the easy road to easy circum-
stances, they were married.
Two years later John Halliday
knew, in the lottery that is marriage,
what sort of prize he had drawn
What depth of stormy petulence hid
beneath the winsome pouting, he could
have told; but did not.
What greed for admiration, what
impish thirst to dabble in the shadows
along the shores of the sea of passion,
what eternal restlessness and hunger
for excitement lay behind the tawny
eyes had been revealed to him in long
months of establishment. But he
was strong, and as patient as he was
strong, and he bore with many things.
Then, coming home after two
weeks business trip, he found her
gone. She had left. the maid said
the day after hts departure, only in
structing the girl to remain and keep
the house going till Mr.. Halliday's re-
turn.
John maintained the home until his
lease expired, then sold the effects to
a new tenant and went to live at a
hotel. There were no babies. God,
thank YOU" said John, for that"
When John Halliday was thirty
three his professional opportunity
came. It took him to a great city and
to a profitable partnership. Still
young, enjoying reputation and es-
tabiished position, his earnings well in
excess of his needs, life held much of
promise for him.
Then it was that, walking home for
exercise thru a sparkling avenue in
the orange sunshine of a late October
afternoon, he met her-squarely face
to face.
A single glance was sufficient to
verify the conclusion John Halliday
long ago had arrived at concerning
his wife. Everything about her-in
the character of her clothes. in the
manner of her couture, in the degree
in which she had, insulted with pig
ment the God-given splendor of her
way she held her head-was the mark
of the woman who has traded herself
for the thing she calls life" and who
is satisfied with the transaction and
has no regrets.
She was quite unabashed. Hello,
John, she remarked, easily and with
her ever-ready smile. Have you come
to life enough to visit the city? You're
looking prosperous"
so, If may say So" replied John,
ARE your"
"Oh. I'm having a perfectly lovely
time. There's no place like the nig
town. you know. You1l like it if you
ever come here to live
81 live here now"
and see me some time-if you'll tele-
phone ahead. The name is Spencer
Miss Spencer: Selkirk apartments,
| Fifty-first. Now 1 must run along
Good -by."
With that she was gone; and John
Halliday, mistaken, master of his own
Anerves, proceeded on his way. I'm
Pconvincing? Improbable? 1 think
SO myself. But. remember, 1 told you
this was a story from real life.
| It was a full week after this that
John was walking home again, had
almost reached his own street, when
there was a commotion of fire 'appara-
| tus and a crowd running toward where
the WhOle 'front.' OF an apartment mouse
on the cross street was belching smoke
| and curious black-red flame.
| John followed the crowd. A swirl
| of wind blew the smoke away from
the main entrance and John saw the
name "Selkirk." Something ieaped up
into his throat. Then, at a window
only four floors up, John caught a
glimpse of a face that, ashen now.
was the face OF the girl to whom. ten
years ago. he had given all that a
strong man can give-the whole of
| his heart.
There were ladders of coiIrse.