The West Virginian. [volume] (Fairmont, W. Va.) 1914-1974, 1922-03-01
THE DAILY
SHORT STORY
One Who Dared.
BY cLARIssA MAcKIE

sikN ID you hear hlm?" gasped
e Miss Fletcher as the district
manager left the room.
DID you hear him, Lucy?"
Yest" breathed mouse-llke Lucy
as she resumed her rapid clicking
3.of the typewriter keys.
"The--the blg-goose!" substL-
tuted Miss Fletcher for a more de-
seriptiyo word to apply to a chief
who up to that moment had been
the most polite and considerate Of
men; "oll about some branches OF
bittersweet on my desk" She re-
arranged the brown twigs, heavy
with rich red and orange fruit
and held her fingers In position to
resume her work at any moment.
Barked at me. no did. Says he,
whats that? and ! says, Bitter
sweet from the country, and all It
needs Is some wild ciematIs, all
gray and fsathery and-'Humpii!
/. he barks again and goes off. What
are you tittertng at, Lucy Lee?"
''You are so funny, Jane! Try TO
bark 'Humph!" yourself and see"
You are shallow. Interrupted
Iane Fletcher. as she ratified the
keys Of her own machine, and
drowned all further attempts at
copeilliation on the part OF her
co.worker, but OCCASIONALLY her eyes
roYed to the closed door Of the .nri-
sate office.
Behind that closed door, Cleve
Larabee stood motionless, his
broad shoulders blocking out the
light from the western window. A
wonderful view could be had from
this high window-busy New York
hArbor-scores Of ships coming and
gping-ferryboats, barges. fishing
craft, the low. gray bulk Of tor
pedo boat destroyer-there was
constant din of sirens and whist
les and horns from street and har-,
hor; an ocean steamer bayed It's
farewell, an aeroplane droned over
head, the sun flashing on its tilt.
ed wings. Beyond were the smoky
hills OF New Jersey.
cleye Larabee saw nothing save
a winding lane in october-frost-
touched leaves dropping around
like tinted blossoms; the orange
Va fire Of bittersweet tangled with
the curly gray tendrlls OF clematis,
and Annahel Day-standing there.
He turned from the window and
sat down heavily in his chair. He
had almost forgotten Annabel Dayl
Fifteen. years ago he had left
Mossdale and sought footing in
the city. His parents had been
dead year, he had little patri-
mony, and no prospects In the lit
De Vermont village. So he had said
good-by TO Annabel, refusing to
bind her by any promise.
For a while they correspondent,
but after couple OF years she had
stopped writing. IIe believed her
tired Of waiting for him, and that
some one else had won her love.
SStrange to say 1t had never
troubled him-by that time he had
become immersed in the pursuit OF
moncy-success So great was the
bush. so heated the competition
that he mover paused to analyze his
own feelings. He had never mar.
ried; his clubs and his office sat
Visited him, lie was always a well
come addition to the parties Of his
friends, and his vacations we're
spent in the West, where his firm
had valuable interests.
So he had come to be the district
manager OF a great corporation;
and he had believed he was happy
nnHlsthis afternoon, when the sight
of a branch Of blttersweet had STIR
rled up oil the old boyish love OF
the countryside where he had been
horn and raised, and-where An
mabel Day had lived and loved him
him.
His brooding eyes gradually came
10 notice the flat package on his
Sdesk-the name Of well known
photographer was in one corner.
Z Idly he lifted a knife and sever
ed the string and opened the
papers; half a dozen photographs
were soon scattered around him.
tenlargements OF smaller pictures
land now, everything vanished and
he was back In the hill country
{hgain-on the right was the deep
gorge filled with snow aud on
eeither side the tall hemlockE weigh.
led with the fleece OF winter, their
tops seeming to touch the sky.
Once when they were children he
md Annabel had played these were
Christmas trees and hung them
with all sorts OF bright baubles,
before him was the Slope Of the
mountain, .snow-capped and friend
iy, where the little birches ran
down to the edg o fthe gorge; here
to the left was a bit OF autumn
road-there, a glimpse of some