The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1931-04-10

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Alice and Amy come to play with her
again? Probably because people had
thought he'd done it, anyhow.
Their departure from the little uni
versity town out in California had felt
like running away to her and, she was
sure, to her father, also. There was
one incident about the journey which
she remembered very clearly. Her
fathers voice had tagged and she'd
looked up to see If he'd fallen asleep
He wasn't asleep, but staring out over
the desert with such look of pain in
his face that she burst into tears.
He'd comforted her very tenderly
and had said to her the only thing,
she thought, that he'd ever said in
direct reference to the catastrophe:
"1've got yOu," he told her, 'and they
can't take you away from me. And
I'm going to see to it that you sha'n't
be the loser by this thing that's hap
pened to me. In the long run it may
be just as well for you that it did
happen"
At the time she'd had no idea what
he'd meant by that. But the events
Of the later years Of his life made 1t
clear enough. He'd had scheme Of
some sort, now that he wasn't a col
lege professor any more, for making
her rich. A scheme that he'd never
brought off, to be sure, but one that
down to the very night of his death
he'd never lost hope about.
AS it had worked out, it was that
hope of his. always on the point of
coming true. that had been the cause
of most Of her unhappiness during the
four long years they had lived in that
Chicago hotel. She didn't know that
she regretted them now. That made a
pretty hard sort of problem to work
out. Most people, certainly, would
say it was horrible way for a child
to be brought up
The hotel itself was all right, one of
the less pretentious ones of the new
residential type. Their two rooms up
on the tenth floor, furnished in imita-
ton black walnut and taupe uphol-
stery, especially perhaps the floor
lamp with it's heavy silk shade, had
carried out the idea that they'd come
to live in a palace. The kitchenette,
with its electric stove, had seemed
marvellous toy to her; and their white
tile bathroom, with it's modern plumb
ing and its never failing abundance of
hot water, had been a luxury.
She'd taken it for granted, during
those first few days while breathless
she explored the wonders of the hotel,
that the wealth her father had limited
at was already in his pockets. 1t
wasn't until he expressed concern over
her Toneliness-it was beginning to
strike in little-that she asked him
work so hard and couldn't take little
time off to play with her.
He'd smiled and told her he was not
rich yet, not rich at all, but that he
thought it wasn't going to be long, not
more than a few months at most, be-
fore he was. AS soon as that hap
pened he'd stop work and they'd go
roaming the world together. Meanwhile
she was to be patient and get along
as best she could. y
How many times during the next
four years had they had that same
talk, without essential variation?
Dozens-scores Toward the end, the
note of it had got sharper, more like
cry of desperation, until her one
care, with him, had come to be to
avoid everything that could remind
him of the life she led during the long
days from the time he left her at
the breakfast table until he came back
sometimes long after dinner at night.
She didn't wonder now, looking back
upon it, that as the months stretched
into years the thought of the little
girl left unoccupied and uncared for
should have driven him frantic. And
yet, somehow, it hadn't been horrible
at all.
If she'd been timid child, of course
it would have been dreadful. Or If
people hadn't naturally liked her and
wanted to be kind to her. Or if her
father had been the sort who asked
nagging questions and told her she
must never do that again. She'd be-
gun doing things from the first day
he'd left her there in the hotel that
he probably wouldn't have approved
if he'd known about. Most Of the
things she'd done had been sensible
enough, she thought-and where she
hadn't been sensible she must have
been lucky, for she'd never got into
any serious trouble.
One thing that went long way
toward making her situation tolerable
during those four years was the fact
that she'd always had as much money
as she needed. From somewhere her
father had had perfectly adequate
and regular supply. From her four
teenth birthday on, she'd known ex
actly how much it was: hundred
dollars a week. At that time he'd
begun handing it all over to her except
what his small personal wants re-
quired. and had given her the job of
keeping their accounts and paying
their hotel bills. 1t had always been
in cash-five yellow-backed twenties.
There'd never been any sign of a
change for better or for worse in their
circumstances.
She never knew where the money
came from. Once she asked him out
right, and he had so pointedly ig-
nored the question that she never
asked it again. She was afraid she'd
guessed.
She was afraid it was her Uncle
William-the ogre. Her whole ca
pacity for fear was concentrated,
focused upon that one point. She be-