The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, November 29, 1903, Page 4

ght, 1908, by T. C. McClure.) HEN the oughty-four class of lifted up mighty voice in & farewell chorus and disbanded for the long vecation eome of its in- dividual members start- ed In to pl nd some ly number of them In order (o earn sufficlent money to go back posed waiters at seaside resorts, as €rivers of cabs, as conductors of trolley cars, as aggage smashers during the rush = as anything and & This was the crowd without mon to Newport alsg—everybody the quarterback on the Jusper went not as million- hawk or walter or baggage went as Jasper. Jasper was with cash, either. a good many people—a ck invariably does, wherever he But of all the people that he his wide world the individual ticularly preferred to know ie college town. The last son w Willought the troliey magnate and multi-millionaire. This made her popular emong the men But to Jasper it was sufficlent that her first name was Marion and that he, and he sione, had the privilege of using her first name rather than her last. Jasper ved an¢ moved ipon the face «f the he didn’t think wbout fke to remember that she be knew that kne t Jasper loved wit R e heart end scal . at reason that Jasps:’ was Jasper but Y Was a goo Bhe 4id every ng chocolate cara- She was one of thai a watering ething else than rougher the king. warm day ined Merri- GREGORY O HAMPTON. | | By Anna S. Richardsaos well's invitation to joln a motor ecar crowd bound inland, and twenty minutes later she was in the surf. The beach was almost deserted. She plunged in boldly end struck out for deep water. On = little ledge of rock to the right there sat a men, oné of the life-saving crew that patrolled the coast. His arms and face were brown as berries. He sat alert and watchful, walting for some- thing to turn up. A few people In the surf turned to watch Miss Willoughby swim out to sea. The brown life-saver kept glancing up and down the coast. Afar out, in the unséen distance, some- thing had happened an hour or so be- fore. It probably had been the tail end of a storm. The wireless announcement of it came only In the shape of one great wave that suddenly dashed far out bn the beach, followed by ‘arother and another and anotber. Miss Willoughby, out In deep water, not feel these waves, There is one @ifficulty with large waves They are large when they come in and they are large when they go out. They come in on top., Rhey go out underne They make a greht fuss coming in have but litt’y to say when they =neak back again. Bt: then s the time when they are preparsd to do the mischief. The people’near the shore laughed and danced in this sudden advent I flerce breakers. They thoiight of nothing but o: their own excitement. The life saver glanced anxiowly from zime to time up and fown ard out to sea Suddenly something happened The crewd did rot sge it. The man only did— and t man was the life-saver. He saw that the girl who had ventured into deep water had attempted to swim back shore she had made een force beneath v drawing her out to sea saw that, wiih the eff e was making e, n man life and nothing less, the fatal undertow. was golnz vit his le rose to f and shading his mouth with his hand, roared to her in stentorian volce that he was coming. This was essential, for encouragesient was everyihing. Thea he plunged into the surf and raptly swam out. It was easy going out—he knew it wou'd be. But Jmitg bac wonld be ‘another thing. he reached the girl. £he was well nigh exhausted, bv* uad the foresizht to float upon her back “I'm here,” he called in & cheety volce seached her Mar Manni she ex- did_ you come from “I'm one of (he coast “just now I'm a life g Jasper of ar, earning money the for = ADGE, didn't you spend half an hour in Mrs. Gifford’s con- servatory “Yes — her orchids are marvels,” re- plied the giri quietly. She returned her r's keen scrutiny without flinch. Miss Marsden was & worthy of the great political leader. Gregory was with you—and I to know that he is not inter- i in orchids.’ “Gregory of Hampton!” words had become the scorn of the political headquarters over which Mr. Marsden presided. In truth, Greg- ory of Hampton was & thorn in the wire-puller’s flesh. He was unap- proachable, unbribable, and, from Mr. Marsden’s point of view, hopelessly un- reasonable. The apportionment bill was strictly framed by Marsden to give his party better control of the Btate legislative branches. It was not & vicious measure, but knowing that his heart was set upon it the younger element, who had begun to murmur against the iron rule of “the boss,” had vigorously op- posed the bill Its defeat meant the dethronement of Marsden, and the assumption of party leadership by one of the younger men. Gregory had entered the fight under Instructions from his district leaders—staid, back-country farmers to whom new-fangled politics did not ap- peal. Belf-rellant end gifted with the faculty of dominating others, he had unconsciously assumed the leadership of the opposition and was already spoken of @s Marsden's probable suc- cessor. this was passing through Mars- den’s mind, s he watched his daugh- ter run through her morning’s mall, end wished she would speak. But clearly she was not in & communica- tive mood. “I suppose you help receive at the Governor’s reception this afternoon. Well, go where you like, though I don’t care for that daughter of his. Only remember one thing, there is to be no nonsense between you and this young Gregory. The apportionment bill gives us almost complete control and it got to go through. Gregory, by his obstinacy, encourages the opposition. I've started to put it through, and I'll do it, if it takes my last dollar.” “I hardly think it is worth while for you to waste money on Mr. Gregory. He's not that sort.” Margaret had risen and now stood, pale and tense, before her father, whose face had turned livid. don't tell me it has gone as far that? Could y stand by this man in preference to your father? Think, child, think, you're all I have in the world since—since your mother's gone.” The lips of the poiltical leader twitched. The giri, who was the liv- ing, breathing image of her mother, occupied the one soft spot in his cal- loused, scheming heart. At mention of her mother's name Margaret turned swiftly and twined her arms around her father's neck. “Father, dear, you make it so. hard. You don’t know how I love him. Can't you two agree and make me happy?” Her father did not reply, and with a soft rustling of silken skirts she elipped from the room, closing the door gently behind her. From her bedroom window she watched her father climb into the wait- ing brougham. She noted the increas- ing stoop of his shoulders, the languor of his step. - When the carriage turned the corner she sat down at her desk. My dear Mr. Gregory,” she ewrote, “I have thought and thought all night long, and still I cannot give you the answer you want. It is useless for me to make false preten useless for me to deny my love for you. And yet—I am my father's all. And no matter how happy we might be, I should al- ways feel that I had robbed him of the reward for his faithful care of me. Can’t you understand He has been 80 good to me always—and I owe him everything. You must make my an- swer for me. This afternoon I under- stand they take another vote on the bill which stands between me and hap- piness. Your vote will be my answer. If it is "No,’ do not see me again. It will be easier for us both, and surely you owe my love that much considera- tion. Faithfully yours, “MARGARET MARSDEN.” o i i WO B e The ladies’ gallery of the Assembly chamber was thronged with brilliantly gowned women. The fourth day of the deadjock, and rumor had gone forth that there were prospects of a break. Members on the floor bowed to ac- quaintances in the gay array of but- terflies. Gregory of Hampton sent but one long, searching glance in their di- rection, but in that look he caught a vision In the background, a .slender, gray gowned figure. A chiffon vell hid her features, but under the drooping brim of her hat he caught the glint of bronze gold hair. For an instant the hard, set look dled from his eyes, and & tender smile rested on his lips. Then he glanced toward Marsden's desk. A group of men fawned upon the leader, who seemed not to notice them. His face was gray-white, his eyes a steely blue. But Gregory of Hampton read behind the look of grim determination —to the years of erminable strug- gle, to the home life sacrificed, the wife-love neglected, all for political power. And this same power lay with- in his own grasp, if the apportionment bill failed. Leadership of men, or life companionship and the love of & pure woman? The plaudits of the public or the caresses of a love for which he hungered as he had never hungered and longed and yearned for anything in ell his busy, succeesful life? The House was called to order. Cold per- epiration bathed his motionless figure. His arms were crossed on his breast. His eves were fixed on the Speaker. Sudden silence fell upon the floor and the crowded galleries. The clerk cleared his voice and ner- vously adjusted his glasses. Marsden sat with the tabulated vote of two days before in his hand. To Margaret it seemed as if the alphabet held a thous- and letters. Would the “G's” never 'F'l'.‘lnt applause. ye!” Mingled hisses and cheers. “Gorman!” Gregory's eyelids quiv- ered just a trifie and his glance shifted for an instant to the bent head with its glint of bronze gold. “No!"” Increased applause. “‘Gregory!” For one brief second Margaret’s heart stopped beating. “Aye!” Every reporter at the tables above the Speaker's head took a fresh grip on his pencil. There was a sensation! Consternation spread over the faces of the men who had been following Greg- ory’s lead. The machine element o. “Garri his next year's course. the arm. “Come, we must go back he sald; “heaven send we get there safely. It's & rough trip ‘and no mistake.! It was a rough trip and the girl knew it But some thirty-three minutes Jater Manning Jasper staggered up out of the surf with a precious burden In his arms—an uncon- scious girl, whom he had saved from cer- tain death. Jasper, too, was quite certaln of one thing, and that was that but for 2 certaln fact he might never have been able to get her back. That fact lent new vigor to his arm, and that fact was elm- ply this—that the girl, just s she. was losing consclousness, had lifted up her lips and kissed him and had called him by his name. It was that that brought them safe to shore. A day later Manning Jasper stood with- in the presence of Willoughby, the trolley magna “Mr. Jasper, sald this man, “what you ask is most preposterous. This He caught her by cheered and the Speaker wrapped for order. Marsden folded his arms and glanced at the gallery, where Margaret had suddenly risen and was now making for the entrarce. Just what part had she played !n this little drama, he won- dered. The vote went on, but he did not listen. With Gre v on their side victory was assured. When he finally made his way through the crush after the vote wa daughter nor ( former had doorman, a concluded, neither hig regory was in sight. The/ ed her coupe, said the d another man told him 1s not the age of herolcs and of romance. The fact that you have saved my daugh- ter is nothing. If you had not done it, some other man would—why, there are men on the shore who are pald, actually paid, to do that sort of work.” “Exactly,” replied Jasper, “and I am one of them~a fact you did not know.” He leaned over and touched the rich man that some one had seen Gregory swing into a hack and the driver had started the horse up at a terrific pace. But Gregory had not followed Mar- garet. It was dark before his ride end- ed, and he came back to town, a trifie white in the face, but with eyes serene- ly happy. n came upon them in the li- 'y and extended his hand with awk- ward attempt at cordiality. “I am glad you could finally sece things our way,” he commenced. ‘Then words died on hig lips. Margaret and Gregory turned toward him anrd there was that In the latter's face which stilled the voice of the polit- ical leader. He gazed dumbly at this young man, born to lead, whom no amount of wire pulling, no offers of po- litical preferment, no bribe however al- luring could move, and yet, who, for love of his slip of a girl, had delibera’s- ly turned his back on a brilllant polii- cal career. Would he have done as muck® at the same age for love of this girl's mother? He looked up suddenly and his glance met the eyes of his wife, gazing at him wistfully from a large cil painting. How often her eyes had met his in real life—just that same way. For the first time in years something like a prayer of thanksgiving welled up from the heart of the “boss.” The ap- portienment bill turned miserably in- significant. Without a word he turned upon his heel, but at the door he locked back and a smile of real happiness— not triumph, rested on his thin, blood- less lips. His daughter's head rested confidingly on the shoulder of Gregory of Hampton. Copyright, 19803, by eve Floyd, N. Y. NCE upon a time there was a man whose long suit was knowledge His name was Kelsey Kantell. Kelsey wore more i characters on the end of his name than a rallroad official. and he had a perfect right to do It, for he was graduated from everything from grammar echool to Heldelberg Univer- sity, which Is more than can be sald of aG P.A. &T M . Kelsey could read Sanscrit with one eve, Greek with the other, write Arabic and talk Latin to beat the Pope all at the same time. He could translate the hieroglyphics on the stones of Egypt; explain why magnetic disturbances are indicative of the approach of the pe- riod of maximum sun spots, why one- half of & seldlitz powder is always wrapped in blue paper and the other in white, and why hens don't erow. He could classify a flower by its odor, a fish by its bite, or a bird by its tail feather. Kelsey knew Willlam Shakespeare by heart, Richard Harding Davis by sight and Mary MacLane by reputation. Fact is, he knew everything except the current brand of woman. Kelsey had everything except a wife, and when the women got wise to that fact they baited their hooks for him and made no bones of it. They or- ganized debating contests, Dbiblio- graphical parlor socleties, bugging and botanizing expeditions, and a lot of other pastimes calculated to inveigle him into stepping, unbeknownst, upon their flypaper. ‘Whenever one of the petticoated trappers got a promise of a call from Kelsey she would shut herself up In the parlor and bury her face in the en- cyclopaedia until she had something deep down pat. Then she would put the calf-bounds back on the shelves and cook up a scheme to have the sub- ject come up by accident, so that Kel- sey would think she knew just as much about everything else. But when Kel- sey called something always h:gvcncfl to steer him away from what she had been looking up. It she tried to lead up to botany by speaking of the color of a new chrys- anthemum she would start Kelsey emitting elucidation about the primary colors as seen through the spectrum, and how they are formed by rays of light or other radiant energy in which the parts are arranged according to 2 By Billy Bur- i- gundy. ‘ 2 o =T their refrangibility or wave-length, so that all of the same wave-lengths fall together, while those of different wave- lengths are separated from each other, forming a regular progressive series just as is seen in the rainbow. Of course, the poor little creature never for an instant imagined that speaking of a chrysanthemum would lead to such a horrid thing as a spec- trum. And It just made her heart ache to think that after she had found out that a stipule is one of a pair of usually foliaceous appendages at the base or petiole of certain leaves sh- couldn’t get a chance to tell him before she forgot it. It she referred to Xipling's latest poem Kelsey would shift to the Rubalyat of Omar Khayyam, of which che had never heard. If she spoke of Rembrandt, Kelsey, would drift into a discussion of the perspective plane as applied to the canvas. Every time she tried to deal a lead she would fumble the cards and hand out a mislead. ‘Whenever a subject on which she was particularly strong came up some: thing would happen to change it be- * TALE OF THE BOOKWORM WHO | | | FOUND A CHANGE OF DIET <+ fore she could shoot her bolt. Such was the case with every dame who stacked the cards so that she could con Kelsey into thinking she was real intelligent and eligible to preside over the aft end of his table. Of course, they knew it was very naughty and wicked to pretend to know a whole lot about the awfully profound things, but what else could they do to win a man who was cer- tainly too brilliant to care for a girl who was the least bit frivolous? Well, to get to the point, wherever Kelsey went the He-catchers tried to win him out by displaying their Break- fast Food brand of intellect, but there was nothing doing. One day Kelsey met a giddy little blue-eyed blonde, who could talk noth- ing more abstruse than caramels, chif- fon and Booth Tarkington. Blondy was an affectlonate little thing and very becoming to a cozy corner. When ghe got Kelsey into the speak-easy where hung guns, swords, shlelds and Indian blankets, she nestled her curly head upon his bosom, lifted her won- dering eyes and sald, “Does oo ‘uv 00 'ittle ducky?” Kelsey must have, for he married her the next day. Moral—You can’t fool a gambler with loaded dice. Kelsey had everything except a wife. ey the arm. “Mr. Willoughby,” he eon- tinued, “that {s not the point. For some months past, judged by standard other than of this world, Miss Marion was mine. Under ordinary circumstances I vould have claimed her, even though she loved me. I am puor and she is rich. We stand upon equal terms and I have a ight to it. That life she gives to with the love that she has borne me 8o long. I ask no favor of you, sir. I claim a right—a right that is no one’s but my own. I have earned your daughter and she Yelongs to me.” The next day Jasper returned to his post to earn more money. He had already earned the girl, who wiil become his bri next year in oughty-four. By James HUMILIATION OF O’'DAY Fennimore. (Copyright, 1278, by T. C. McClure) RIVATE O'DAY of the Tenth had shown pluck in several fights with the In- dians, and, therefore, stood well with his officers. He was a man who always had a song in his heart or g joke on his lips, :nd he was, therefore a favorite with his fellow-grivates. Now and then he got tight, but unless the offi- cer of the day was obliged to take official notice nothing was heard from it. Now and then he was sullty of other breaches of discipline, but he ar- gued his case so well before the col- onel that he was let off with & repri- mand where another would have been sent to the guardhouse. In every sol- dier-company there is always one such man—a good fighter when fighting s to be done, but irresponsible, good-na- tured and totally careless when in bar- r-'f.k;'t.mny thing hapened one day. It was funny even to Private O'Day. as he tried his best to look at it in & serious light. He fell in love with Kitty Cline, the major's daughter. He fell in love with her at a distance— clear across the parade ground at Fort Sherman. She had been at the fort for three or four weeks, but that was his first sight of her. She was 13 and O'Day was 30; she was a major's daughter, used to a life of luxury, while he was a high private on $13 per month. The social gulf between them was as wide as the At- lantic Ocean, and O'Day knew it, and whispered in his own ear: “Patrick O'Day, ye are a bigger donkey than ever ye left behind ye in old Ireland, and ye ought to be taken out and kicked across the parade ground. The jdea of your losing yer heart to such a gurl as that! Are yez gittin’ soft in the top of yer head, or s It the foolishness just comin’ out But it was one thing to talk and another to do. Private O'Day was hard hit—so hard that he could not keep his secret, and when it became known to a dozen of his comrades he was guyed and jeered and berated by turns. Two or three days of it ought to have worked a cure and sent Pat- rick along to barracks No. 3. where the widow laundress of Company B, who was known to have 3450 in the bank, would have welcomed him with smiles. It failed, however, and in his desperation the soldler-lover did a foolish thing. Being on sentry duty at the gate one day he removed his p and bowed to the major's daughter as she rode forth on her pony. He did more. He had a 25-cent box of candy in the bosom of his jacket, purchased for the occasion, and he hauled it forth and begged her to accept it as a slightstoken of his feelings toward her. Of course she looked down upon him with feelings of amazement and refused his gift, and, of course. some one witnessed the performance and told of it, and Private O'Day was sent to the guardhouse for making a monkey of himself. The next morning the soldier, whose loving heart had been deeply grieved by the rejection of his confectionerv, was detajled to police duty along with other derelicts, and that was a further humiliation. The finishing blow was at hand. After some general work ebout the parade grounds he was set to cleaning up the major's back yard, just where the major’s daughter could have a full view of him as he rolled the ash barrels about, and though he had no cause to belleve that she was peen- ing from a rear window and chuckling over his discomfiture, the iron entered his soul instead of his shovel ente: the ash heap. He was sharply repri- manded two or three times by the cor- poral, and in his despalr and despera- ation he outraged military discioline by “sassing back.” He was ordered to report himself at the guardhouse as under new arrest, and it was while making his way to that popular and well-known resort that he suddenly de- cided to make a bolt for it. A citizen had ridden into the fort on & fine plece of horseflesh and thrown the reins o+ & post near the gate, and Private O'Da reached and mounted the animal and was galloping away before the sentinel at the gate had openmed and shut hls mouth. There was delay in following the fugitive, and when pursuit was made he had a long start, and his trall was lost, as he rode through the scrub to- ward Devils Canyon. It was 10 o'clock in the forencon when he gal- loped out of the fort, and ft was an hour later, and he had covered eight miles of ground, when he rode into the western mouth of the canyon. He wanted to dodge pursuit for a time, and he wanted a quiet place in which to do some thinking. Thers was a Second reason, and that was that a thunderstorm was coming up from the southwest, and Private O'Day never got his jacket wet when there was a chance to keep it dry. He could find a dozen of places in the grim, dark canyon where he would be shel- tered from the threatened downpour. Unknown to the soldler who had monkeyed with the buzzsaw, the ma- Jjor's daughter had ridden forth on her pony two or three hours previous to his appearance as one of the sanitary squad, and if he hadn't been so busy nursing his wounded heart he would have noticed the hoof-prints leading him all the way. The girl had done a foolish thing to ride down into that somber gorge, where the cinmamon bear hid away for his noonday sleep, and great lizards crayled up and down and liissed at the serpents; but she was a girl of whims, and this was one of them. She not only entered the canyon's mouth, but forced her wondering and frightened pony along over the stony _trail, until she could no longer see daylight unless looking upward. She was halted there when the thunder began to roll and the lightning to flash, and she had not yet turned her horse when Private O'Day. further down and off his horse and under the shelter of a ledge, heard a sound no man forgets after hearing It once. The big black cloud, with its tens of thousands of barrels of water. had hit the peak of the mountain and burst, and the jar and roar of it was followed by the swishing and swash ing of a torrent coming down the c: yon. The soldier had sprung for horse to mount and away when heard the clatter of the pony’'s hoofs and next moment the animal slipped and fell at his feet and flung its rider over its head. O'Day saw that it was a girl, but without knowing her iden tity he picked her up as she lav in an unconscious state, placed her on the saddle before him and made the race. The waters were throwing sprav clear over him as he debouched fr lmt.t canyon's mouth and wheeled to the eft. “My man,” said the colonel to him that afternoon, after calling him to headquarters. “I want to shake hands with you and call you a brave man, and tell you how grateful I am. You are released from arrest, and no new charges are pending. As to anything “The widdy woman who launders for barracks No. § and has $450 In bank promised an hour ago to marry me, and there will be no ‘anything to 1t!" Private O'Day, as Be saluted and turned on his heel. his never 9 [}