The Rock Island Argus and daily union. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1920-1923, 1921-08-31
The DaiIy Short Story

I and square enough to leave her
without confessing his love; he had
| asked for no assuring sign from
her, no pledge of loyalty His trust
was too big for word or promises.
Nor had he bored her with let
tiers. True, he had written many of
them, but each in its turn had been
RELOCATED to a pigeon-hole in his
desk. He had demanded nothing!
At last, by means of fortunate in
vestments and through the success
full handling of several important
legal cases, his financial footing
was secure. He was preparing to
go to his dream girl and lay his
most compelling arguments before
her, when suddenly, in the form of
home newspaper, came an icy
blast that froze all his dearest am
Nbitions. Her engagement to Win
don was announced.
He had been fooli Endless re-
grets chased one another through
the gray, cold numbness of his
brain. She had never really cared
he kept repeating to himself,
though he could not make himself
believe it. If she had cared ever
so little, she would have waited
till eternity. But girls were not
worth a mans consideration. No
girl was faithful, or guessed at the
meaning of the word. There was
not one in the world who was true
But each assertion fell fat, as he
uttered it. He knew that in his
very heart he would stake his very
soul upon the fineness of Ruth. She
could not be false.
Windon was wealthy, distinguish
ed, and good. Why should she not
choose him? The world looked
upon Windon as great man,
man of influence.
He was older than Ruth, much
older, but that was no fault of his.
Ranhope recalled the fact that she
had frequently just come in from a
drive or a sail with Windon, on
days when he had telephoned for
permission to call. She had SEEM
ed almost Indifferent to him then,
and had dismissed Windon as
promptly and as gracefully as she
had welcomed himself.
Well, Windoh had evidently stood
the test of love. He had won. If
she loved him, he could give her
everything. With these thoughts,
Ranhope smiled YEARLY. He saw
the modest, little nest he had in
tended to build in a new and rather
distant suburb.
This was the endI It was over.
He swallowed hard. His hopes
were palsied. What was there to
work for now?
Presently, with grim effort, he
pulled down a large volume of sta
tistics from its shelf, and opened
it at random. Perhaps it was irony
Of fate that caused him to turn to
the pagas or marriage statistics
But the sad little joke was lost on
him, for he saw none of the lines
before him. He could not read.
For him there existed neither time
nor space his thoughts were far
away. 1t was as though he were
attending his own funeral, where
the many floral tributes were all |
sweet memories of her.
In the midst of it all, he heard |
he door open gently. Someone en-
erred. There was a light step, the |
,ustle OF a woman's gown. She |
rev near. For an instant, a wild |
instant when the blood surged !
trough his veins, and his heart |
beating, he thought
Then he remembered. He looked |
ID dazedly and brought himself |
lack with visible effort. He smil-
I'd, though feebly.
AS his stenographer took her
lace, she remarked: 81 hope you
md your smile have come back to
tay, SIR
We have, Miss Brown" he an
vered coioriessly, and began die :
tation.