The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1919-05-31

Then he swung around in his chair
and looked at me. II don't want to
talk about this, Balmy, any more than
you do" he said. But guess I've got
this thing patched up"
"WhatT I have to do?" 1 inquired.
you stay right here and face it out!"
he said. Wen have some reports to
do over. and two or three afidavits to
doctor up, naturally. But If things GO
the way I want them to go, this-this
little accident of yours is going to be
something just between you and my
office. Something, remember, just be-
tween the two of u.s."
ITS no use" told him. with hope
less little shake of the head. you've
tried to help me, know. but it's no
use!" He gave me one of his stares.
It's got to be some use," he said, in
his heavy voice. I'VE want you here.
and we can't afford to lose you!"
But what good can / be to you
now?" I commended.
you stick to the Alliance, Balmy.
and the Alliance will stick to you," was
Sloan's answer to that infantile protest
of mine. Its an awful mess, I know.
but we're going to get you out of II.
and keep you out of it-in some way"
I saw then, in one prophetic flash,
just Wadl lhc nclQ over HlC. L saw
myself the marked and accomplishing
operative of their Security Alliance.
with no choice as to what cases 1 should
enter and what cases should shun.
You'd better go home now, Balmy,
and get some Sleep" he muttered. He
said it with a sort Of gruff kindness.
He was through with me, could see,
the same as an overworked office man
is through with an unlooked-for worry
that has kept him at his desk.
He came down to the street with mo
and held my arm as 1 climbed into the
taxicab. Then he slammed the door
shut and motioned the driver to start.
sat there. shaken in spirit, stunned,
hcart-sich. 1t wasn't home was going
to. but four walls that would seem like
iail; four unfriendly walls, for which
paid so much every week. 1 gulped
as I thought of them. And I knew
they couldn't hold me in, any more than
a matchbox could hold q weasel. So
instead Of going to them commanded
my driver to drop me at a Broadway
hotel, where the visible machinery of
comfort at least consoles the nerves as
the drone of a motor sometimes does.
Once inside that hotel, however, went
straight to the switchboard operator
and put in a call for Mr.. Winkfred
Ealand."
The operator stopped short at the
"Winkferd." as so often had happened
before. She asked me. with a half
fretful sort OF indifference. II the name
shouldn't be "Winifred." And l had
to explain that it was "Winkfred."
mans name. For I wanted above all
things to talk to my Wrinkle. I wanted
the comfort of his voice, and some word
of help from him. And. oh, Wrinkle, II
only you'd had been there to help me
straighten things out, II Ia only stumb-
led across the thinnest ghost Of hope
that 1t all mattered to you in any way
how different everything might have
turned out!
But there was no way, the tired
eyed operator told me. after trying
number after number. of getting in
touch with Mr.. Winkfred Ealand. And
once more all the world felt like lone
ly icy moraine that sloped down to
even lonelier precipices yawning up out
Of black depths of Nothingness.
Clear thinking was beyond me. It
was one OF the few times in my life
when wanted somebody else to do my
thinking for me. But I could think OF
no one to go to-no one, at least but
Toosey Attrill. The thought of that
rought-tongue and pert-eyed young
stool-pigeon suddenly flashed out of the
darkness at me. like a harbor light on
lonely coast. Toosey, for all her
youth. had known her troubles. II
wasn't until after I'd crossed Chatham
Square that I gave up hope. But when
the sleepy-eyed Shake McMane told me
that Toosey had been called out an
hour before by a "singed cat" from the
Pinkerton ONCE. felt that my last life
raft had sunk under me.
I stood in that sordid doorway that
winked like a crafty eye out on its
sordid side-street, as much alone in the
world as though 1 was the last woman
on a WORKOUT planet wheeling DESC
lately about a worn-out sun. I could
feel my throat tighten as a weakening
wave of self-pity swept through me.
Then, biting my lips to keep from maxi
ing a fool of myself and blubbering to
the obligato Of the Second Avenue L,
I turned about and closed the street
door which seemed to be shutting out
my last hope in life.
AS did SO a shadow f1uttered across
that door and something fell on the
worn step. I did not look down to see
what this was. for I was startled more
by the transit of that shadowy figure
ished into tangled warren Of cellar
ways Then CROPPED about in the un-
certain light and found a small piece
of brick wrapped in a square Of paper.
+ 1 unwrapped the fragment OF brick
and turned it over and over in my hand,
wondering what it could mean. / car
ried 1t with me as I moved somewhat
apprehensively away from that lonely
side-street neighborhood. I reached the
corner before t occurred to me to look
at the crumpled square Of paper.
stopped at the street lamp there and
smoothed out that none-too-clean look
ing square. 1 saw that il mad writing
on 1t. 1t was uncouth and Uniformed
writing. and in lead pencil. It took me
some time TO make it out. 1t said:
You no kill mon Grosset they
max trick for you-I know.
a friend.