OREGON CITY COURIER-HERALD. FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 1901.
6
Edward Blake:
College Student.
IBy Charles M. Sheldon.
'i Continued from last Issue
'""Dr. iHoyce, I came In here on pur
iTpwe to ask you to allow Mr. Preston
'& remain In college If possible. I
Suave been graying for hlra all winter
'. that he might be saved. A number of
other men In the association are doing
the -same 'thing. We feel deeply In-
ferested In him. lie will be a man of
;great power If the Lord once wins him.
t It Is a critical time with Preston, right
t now, ; and It may prove the turning
r point in his whole life."
The president looked at Wheatou
Jfclndly.
' "Then you beat' him no grudge for
ols share In last night's destruction of
;jrour room."
"No, sir; how can I? Are we not
toH to love our enemies? Besides, 1
dp not regard Preston as by any means
: titte 'worst -of the sot In Hope. I bave
: always had a personal drawing toward
Mm, and there has not been a night for
two years that I have not prayed for
Itils conversion."
The. president was silent again. Then
I be turned to Edward.
"Is that what you came to see me
: about too?"
''Yes, sir," replied Edward In a low
voice. -"That Is, I-to tell the truth, I
rfijitvllv knew n.t flrat whnr T jmittia atap
for. But I want Willis to stay and
' have another chance. I don't feel quite
i- easy about my part. I haven't kept
my promise to his mother as I ought."
It cost Edward Blake more than the
. president could smderstand to say all
v that There was really a struggle
. going on In him all the time over his
-wn duty to Willis. If he pleaded with
.the .president not to discharge him from
. college, there was Miss Seton, who
i and then-his own relations to Willis
what could he do more than he had
done?
The president sat eying the two
. young men thoughtfully.
"I had fully made up my mind be
t fore you came Jn to advise the faculty
i that Preston be dismissed once and for
sail. .What Mr. Wbeaton has said,
illake,' changes my views somewhat.
'What. -you have said changes them
-vnore. Of course, you understand I am
'powerless to remit all punishment;
Hiat 'would .not be fair. Mr. Preston
deserves suspension, at least, for his
:promlso this-41mt his case shall be
rartfully considered, and, If possible
'without Injustice to others, he shall be
tallowed to continue his course."
-'.Wbeaton thanked the" president and
veoms to go. Edward, knowing bow busy
h1m president always v .is, rose also.
"Walt a minute, Blnke, please. I
"vftlif n word with Tnii".u'Hn Id thn nroal.
dent. And Edward sat down again as
.Wbeaton wcnt out.
"1 want to ask another thing about
;your relations to Preston. You have
snot been rooming together now for sev--eral
weeks. Do you think you could
slielp him by going back and resuming
your old relations?"
"I might," Edward answered slowly.
"Then I would say by nil means go
Shack to him."
"That Is, supposing he wants me to
oome bark."
"Of -course," replied the president
-quickly. "I do not know how he feels
toward you. That Is for you to And
out. Hut If tho faculty of the college
are to help Preston we must ourselves
be helped by any of the students who
' have It In their power to use good In
fluence. Besides, you said you felt as
If yon hnd not quite kept your promise
to his mother."
"Yes, sir, 1 said It, and I can't help
tflocllng that I might do more."
"Whatever that Is, Blake, I rely on
: you to do," Raid the president gravely
an he turned to his papers on his desk.
"Don't forget that the future destiny
tf soul may rest with you to deter-
mine." And Edward, with this Inst
sentence lmnresNed almost painfully on
his mind, went out of the olllee.
lie walked slowly over to his room,
-went in and sat down by his table. He
was really having a light over bis per
noiial Inclinations and his sense of
what he really owed to Willis and bis
mother at this particular time. He
. really did not cure to room with his
v old chum again. He bail come to like
vthc quiet of rooming alone. lie had
Krave doubts concerning bis Influence
over Willis In the matter of drinking,
although he was obliged reluctantly to
confess that he had probably not ex
erted all bis Inlluenee to Us full limit.
- Hut all through bis conflict of feeling
' he could not shut out the generous side
of Willis' nature, and certain passages
8n Mrs. Preston's letters at different
times appealed to hint.
At Inst he got up n:ul went out and
. crossed over to Iiankin ball.
The living room was In great con
f fusion, and there was an open trunk
i standing near Willis' bedroom door.
ISdward did not see any one and at
.first thought that Willis was not In.
3ut as' he took a step Into the room a
number of articles, Including a hair
' Itrush, a pair of tennis shoes and a
inweater. were llurown out ef the bed
room toward the trunk. The sweater
.and the halrfcrush dropped Inside, but
he shoes missed and fell on the other
lde of the trunk near a number of
.-.other tblugs that bad evidently beeu
: flung near the middle of the room lu
'fin same way. Suddenly Willis ap-
eared Jit his liedromii Un; with an
r armful of thing;. A:; lie caught sight
ward be pulled r.p in, her hastily,
n threw the whole armful In a
the trunk. -
"What are you doing?" asked Ed- the entire college listened with' an In
ward, rather unnecessarily. tense Interest never before shown for
Willis laughed boisterously. . any of the previous talks. ,
"Don't you see? I'm getting ready to "The existence of war in this age of
'abandon Hope,' to quote from Dante, the world," began the president "i
I'm going to anticipate being fired by
going off before the trigger Is pulled,
as the gun said to the little boy who
thought It wasn't loaded, Goodby
scholars, goodby school, goodby Prexy
no, I don't think the rest of it Is right
to say. He's always treated me square
enough. I'm the one that's been a
fool." .
Edward walked over to the table and
sat down on one corner of it.
"I came in to see you about matters
generally. I don't think you need to
.leave college."
"Why, Is Wheaton circulating a peti
tion to have me. stay, so he can bave
the pleasure of my company?"
"Not quite that, but he has begged
the president not to dismiss you from
the college."
"How's that?" asked Willis In evi
dent astonishment.
Edward told him about the scene In
the president's study and what Wheat
on had said. Willis listened with In
creasing emotion.
"Well, Wheaton is square. He's
worth a hundred thousand men like
Rankin, with his money and his sneak
ing, stingy ways. And after we bad
pulled bis room to pieces too; seems
like a lot of sympathy wasted on the
wrong party, though, don't you think?
Did you say he was praying for my
soul?"
Edward repeated Wheaton's words
as nearly as he could recall them.
"It looks as If his prayers hadn't
been heard very much, as far as I'm
concerned, doesn't It? But I didn't do
! the work on the tower. I'm not quite
o bad as all that." Here Willis con
fessed to Edward the truth about his
statement that he was the guilty par
ty. "Honest, now, I don't want to be
kicked out of college Just now. It will
Just about kill mother. I don't care
for myself, but I hate to deal her the
last and hardest blow of all." And, to
Edward's surprise, Wllls put bis head
down between his knees and gave a
sob that was the result of being un
nerved generally over the events of the
last 24 hours.
After an awkward silence of several
moments Edward managed to say:
"There's another thing I came to see
you about. I haven't kept my promise
to your mother that I would do any
thing I could for you. That was before
she went out to San Francisco last falL
Do you want me to come back here
and room with you?"
"Not if you're coming back Just out
of pity for me." replied Willis, lifting
his head and staring hard'at Edward.
"Not pity, but because I want to."
"Come on, then," said Willis, his face
changing. Then be added: "What's
the use? I'm fired, anyway."
"No, you're not The president same
as said that Wheaton's statement
changed the case against you. I tell
you, Willis, If you will let drink alone
and cut the set you've been going with
and steady down to bard work, you can
finish your college course with credit."
Willis got up from the trunk and
began to walk up and down through
the room, tramping over the articles
scnttered on the floor. "I'll do it!" he
exclaimed, excitedly. "I'll turn out a
credit to mother and you yet. Since
you left me I, haven't given a row of
burnt brnss plus whether I went to
the devil or not But If you come
back, and Prexy lets me off, I'll show
you what 1 can do!" he repented, with
increasing excitement, as Edward sat
silent looking at him. If Wheaton had
been present he would probably have
said to Willis: "Will you do all this on
your own strength? Don't you need
divine help to overcome your passions?
Aren't you afraid these good resolu
tions will fall you when you are se
verely tempted?" And most of the
boys In college would have called him
a crank for saying It. Edward kept
still, because be bad no higher standard
for moral strength than Willis had.
At last Willis quieted down, and Ed
ward aud be talked over the whole
matter of rooming together ngalu.
i Edward finally agreed to come over
the next day, anil when he went out
Willis was soberly picking up his
things and straightening out his room.
The whole affair In which Willis had
figured was settled at last by the
summary dismissal from college of
three of the worst men In It, against
whom It was finally proved that they
bad been guilty of the picture paint
ing. A few others were suspended.
Willis aud half a dozen more were
called before the faculty aud severely
reprimanded and compelled to make
good the furniture aud other articles
destroyed In Wheaton's room. Willis
himself and one or two others apolo
gized to Wheaton personally, and the
atmosphere of Hope college cleared
up generally with the elimination of
some or its worst elements.
Then Edward and Willis resumed
their old life together. It was not
quite the same, however. For awhile
Willis attended strictly to his college
work and kept good hours, and Ed
ward could tlml no fault with him on
that score. Hut as the term went on
there were many little tilings that an
noyed Edward and made Willis' com
pany unpleasant. He bore It all silent
ly and kept very busy with Ills work.
Nevertheless, more than once he wish
ed lie was rooming alone and almost
repented blni of his own overstrict
Interpretation of duty.
It was about tills time that Prsl
dent Koyce began bis chapel talks on
war, which attracted attention out
side of the college owing to the Inter
est of the world not only In the con
flict In the Philippines, but for the war
In the Transvaal betweenEugland and
iuv cuuu u-fuum-s. i m- nwin tit-
bate In the college between Edward
and Wilson had also excited a good
"' ,ut" presment
announced one Friday that he would
oegui a cnnpci utiu on war in genera;
, reasonable evidence that we are. as a
woria, stin cunging io me oaronrous
'Tm getting ready to 'abandon Hope,'
to quote from Dante."
methods of might, rather than living
according to the golden rule or the ser
mon on the mount. To quote from one
of our American men of letters:
"This 1 a mad world
"The great church crowded.
"The ancient, torn battleflags are hung high on
the walls, where the dusty red and yellow raya
from the atainetl windows strike them.
"The monuments of generals who died fighting
took down at the multitude, among whom we see
here and there uniformed soldiers from the garri
son. "And the priest drones, 'But 1 say unto you
yve your enemies; do good to them that hct
J u, and whosoever shall smite thee on thy right
Sieek turn to him the other also.'
"Yet no one amilea but the devil. K. H.
Crosby.
"Or to quote again from an English
newspaper, published in London:
"OUR BLOODY WORK IN SOUTH AISl6A.
"We are not all mad with the war fever. Some
If us are still sane. We see through the mist cf
Ilea and know that there ia murder being perpe
trated. "When passing along the streets, we read the
flaming newspaper posters, 'Brilliant Work,'
'Splendid Cavalry Charge,' 'Boers Cut to Pieces,'
and the like headlines; we aee men hurling mis
liles of concentrated deatructiveness at ttoir fel
low men or rushing at each other thrusting their
cold steel into their f el Iowa' quivering, sensitive
bodies; we see them falling, lying on the ground,
to be trampled underfoot, Weeding to death;
we do not aee an; glory. It matters nothing to
ua whether the killed and the wounded are British
filHIav nw U...H tlAu a !..-...... 'nl1. -f
'Boer treacheryl'' On both sides the'war is tree-
wn against humanity. It is all unmitigated ear
igery and diabolism, the work of darkmss and
delusion. There may be a little more or a little
leas military etiquette on this side or on that, but
ttiquette does not disguise the. Bav.igery to any
one that remains aane. When a nubile from one
of our naval guna cornea crashing alon?, it doea
Dot stand on ceremonlea. It kills eveibdy with
in reach. That is war. From brotherhxl, Lon
don, December, 1608.
"War Is the argument of the s ivoge,
not of the civilized man. It Is hie re:
sort of brute force because one fide c
the other or both have not -iioiij.h
Christianity In them to be ' wlir.pyjt.-i
find brotherly ways and uieansVut ;v i
a difficulty other than physical force,
which Is contrary to God's bigtrr law
and always results in euormotA loss !
and misery.
"A glance at the cost of wr will
give us some Idea of the awful, waste
of life and property which this' un
christian method of settling human
disputes entails.
"Take the cost of a war vess.
lika j
the Oregon, $3,701,777, and that only
a small Item to begin with, for the cost
of equipment, ammunition, pay tor its
officers and crew, cost of moving It or
even of letting It lie Idle In any port, is
something enormous. The coal bill of
Admiral Dewey for one month two
years ago was $81,672. During our
brief war with Spain In Cuba we spent
$17,748,385 for additional vessels to use
as transports, ferryboats, supply ships,
etc. A Biugle gun with U; i oi"t ensts
as high as 80,000, and it jir.i'o to -j seem that Christ's teach iug meant auy
fire it each time. The to:;i ( peusvs j tliiu.-,'. veil lss of lile. rather lima a
of the Spanish war lu Cv: '. or t'ir ' reru -t force, to lirnte violence, in or
Unlted Stales are c'illieult o .'wicia", j d"r to ;:.iin our ends,
but for every day of thai var ;f g v- j "War has changed the history of the
eminent paid out fmio.ouo. if e mil ! world more than ail its luvcutious or
to that the destructlou uf public aud j
private property. It would be safe to
say that for every 21 hours during the
war In Cuba over !jit;oo,uuo was practi
cally consumed. Aud. In addition, for
several weeks after the war actually
closed this same expenditure wtmt on,
owlug to the expenses Which tk war
Involved, for sustenance of troops, etc..
which continued Just the sams as If
war were lu progress.
"The eutire amount of money paid
out by the United Stales during March,
April, May, June, July aud Aupist of
1808 was $08,000,000. AH this money,
remember, was expended to lestroy
life and property. No matter wont the
cause of a war may be, whether It Is
for freedom or rights or auythlig else,
the expense Is the same. Aud that is
all we are discussing now. A Jauuou
fired In defeuse of oue's connt.'y kills t0 equip and maintain Its navies and
and destroys Just the same is ouo armies shall be used lu producing food
fired lu couquest of tyraiiuy. b ia the aud clothing and the things that bu
awful waste of property tint war nianlty ueeds for Its comfort aud prog
brings that makes It such a fearful : ress; when the whole earth shall be
way of settliug huniau quarreh. The A"1'1' ,,ot the 'glory of war,' fur
wars of the world have draliwl it uf the 'glory of war' Is the glory of the
vast resources aud left ji ieacy of lowest pit, but with the glory of the
pauperism and bankruptcy ami suffer- Lord, who came into this world to
lug that ages cannot make good. Na- teach men that they were brethren aud
poleon's wars cost ICurope over JiG.Goo,- ; ought to live together In lovo."
000,000 and 1.000.000 lives. Tuc Cti- There was a good deal of discussion
mean war of ouly two years tost $1,- over this talk of the president's, and
500,000,000 and 000.000 lives. These the college was divided In Its sentl
000,000 bodies laid side by slil would moots. But there was a growing uum
extend In nu uubroUen line from bore ber of students who began to look at
to Chicago. The l'tanco-Cernan war
CO.St U tilird of till IHWll, I.V.,n.J
, m U1K.tl alld disabled, over '.mo 000
lives, aud au expense of $1,500,000,000.
"Our civil war. begluulng to IStiO,
cost us $2,500,000 a day for tlv yt.ars!
it cost us tu actual, direct outlay $U.-
400.000.000. and counting deduction
, t0 ,... llorth and south tmnnn.
wv.wv wuuiu unruly euvvr I in? cost, U
....... 1 I I. .....It,.
sum representing luady oiteiou U ti
: witire valuatlou of the United St ue in
I iS,;0. single battles In that .rU- eosi
)u jVe8 p mo lue thoi;s
u.uu.
Bull
Bun, o.uw, oouon, 24,000; Gettysburg,
55,000, on" both sides; Vlcksburg. 31.'-"
000; the Wilderness. 38.000; Stone's
Bun, 37,000. The entire number of
northern soldiers killed was not far
from 350.000. If every man killed In
the civil war naa naa a private runerai,
the hearses would bave made a solid
line from New Ycrk to San Francisco.
Add to these killed all the losses in
cidental in the families that were be
reaved and beggared find you have
only one of the awful chapters which
war has always written In the history
of a sinful world. In the last century
It' Is estimated that Christian nations
have destroyed $20,000,000,000 worth
of property and killed 5,000,000 men.
Put these men In single file and they
would make a procession that would
stretch clear across the United States
from Portland, Me., to Los Angeles,
Cal., and It would take them two
months to march past a given point,
marching day and night without rest
These figures have been complied by
Hon. Frank A. Vanderllp. assistant
secretary of the United States treas
ury, and George B. Waldron.
"And yet these statistics of war do
not begin to tell the story of the brutal
education of men made in God's Im
age, xne sorrow ana me nnguisn and
the havoc wrought by all the long list
of succeeding events that follow every
war are simply appalling. This re
sort to brute force Inevitably leads to
horrors that are Indescribable In their
effect upon body and soul. Read the
detailed accounts of some of the bat
tles recently fought in the Philippines
and South Africa, and we are sioff tied
by the mere reading.
"But some one may say: 'Some wars
are surely Justifiable. Those wars that
were waged for human freedom, like
ur own for independence, and, again.
In order to defend the Union these
wars must have been necessary and
right'
"But even If we grant that certain
wars like these bave better reason for
being waged than other wars, war
Itself as a method of settling disputes
Is never the Christian way of doing It.
In other words, In -any war that the
world ever saw, one nation or another,
one side or another, was to blame for
resorting to war It is easy to see
that a nation or a person unjustly as
sailing another is more to blame than
the one assaulted, and under certain
well known and undisputed conditions
a nation or an Individual might be
'jUrttlQed in protecting Self against SS-
sault, even as we would be Justified
In resisting the murderous attack of
an Insane man or a mad dog ff we or
oe.r dear ones were in danger from
their attacks.
"But it is doubtful If the Christian
nations have ever, done all In their
power to avoid war,' even war of the
kind that might be called a war of
self defense. The more .Christian the
nations become the less and less even
outward excuse for war can be found.
England was too far advanced alonx
tue line of Christian knowledge and
training to provoke the war with ber
colonies. It was an Inexcusable war
from her standpoint. England today
has no righteous excuse worth naming
for carrying on the war In South Afri
ca. It is a monstrous proposition to
advance that In this age of the world,
with all England's Christian knowl
edge and training by the Prince of
Pea ?e, there was a necessity to precipi
tate war In order to settle the compar
atively unimportant differences that
existed between her and the Dutch re
publics. Granting that the Injusticecom
plnined of wa..i all It ns lie:n ehiii.i
ed. still It could nut Ivy any p:isililiity
Justify war in liie si;:l;l of God or men.
Can we Imagine Christ exhorting bia
disciples to wage wir for such a
cause? It is easier for r.s to Imagine
him saying ;!aiu ns lie said when on
enrth Turn the o'lier cheek ' It would
IU arts. It has kept the world back in
barbarism and educated It Hi cruelty
It has wiped out whole peoples living
lu a chosen life of peace. It has carried
wrong aud kIu and shame and loss
Into countless homes aud hearts. It Is
a thing abhorred of God and directly
contrary to the teachings of his Sou,
the Prince of Peace. To speak and
sing and act In Its behalf Is to keep
alive a spirit that ought to be no more
a part of the civilized life of humanity.
God speed the day when the battleship
shall rust at the wharf, and the bij
guns Blmll be silent so long that the
birds shall build their nests In theu,:
when the vast armies that stand ns a
drain to a country's real need shall be
sent home to till the fields ami till the
shops of useful industry: when the
fabulous sums now spent by the world
the subject as the president did. Among
those was Edward. There was some
thing lu his heart and miud that re
sponded with real feeling to the presi
dent's presentation.
Willis had begun to fall back into his
old ways agaiu. There was no excuse
for hint. But Edward bore with ev
erything up to a certain point with al
most Christum patience. Willis had
not beguu bis former card playing In
the room, but Edward soon learned
that he was meeting almost every
n'ght either with one of the boys In
the upper hall or at the old society
rooms down town. He did not seem to
be actually drunk when be came in
very late from these occasions, but
Edward knew be bad been drinking,
and the first time he awticed it he
spoke to him about It.
"You remember. Willis, what you
agreed to do if 1 came back? You
promised to let tbe stuff alone."
"Well, haven't I?" asked Willis, with
tome indignation. ,
"No, you know you've been drinking
lately."
"Nothing but a little beer," replied
Willis doggedly.
"You've been drinking," repeated Ed
ward slowly. "And you know one con
dition of my coming back was that you
let every kind of drink alone."
Willis went over to the window and
began to whistle. Edward boiled up
Buddenly, as he did once In a great
while. ,
"If you break your word with me
again, you know what I shall do." he
exclaimed, and his usually quiet, al
most stolid, face fairly blazed with
passion.
"All right," said Willis briefly, not
turning around. Then after a moment
of silence he faced Edward with a
queer look.
"I may not stay in college another
year. I've got a plan for' the future
that may mean leaving here for good.
So I won't bother you very much lon
ger." And then, to his great surprise, Wil
lis sat down near his table and said:.
"Ned, old boy, I have, made a big
fool of myself, but. I'm going to turn
over a new leaf, and 1 don't want you
to go back on me. You won't, will
you?"
"You've turned over so many new
ieaves that I don't have much faith In
you."
"I don't blame jou, Ned. But honest
ginger, I mean it this time. Want to
tee what I can do? Just watch me
or the rest of the term."
Edward made no answer, and Willis
ppened his books and began to study.
It was after this scene that Edward
received a great surprise in1 the shape
of a remarkable letter from Mrs. Pres
ton. Willis had been even better than his
word. He had cut entirely loose from
bis fast friends, bad stopped going
out nights, and to the real astonish
ment of Edward he had applied him
self with zeal to his studies. Not a
man In all Hope could have excelled
Willis at that time for real, downright,
hard, faithful study. He was agreea
ble, too, so much so that Edward be
gan to have a pleasure In anticipating
the Intervals between study and reci
tation, periods when be could talk with
Willis and especially hear him describe
events In his short army experience.
Willis was a good talker, and when
he chose to do so he knew how to
make himself very agreeable. The
girls, with most of whom Willis was
a great favorite, always spoke of his
manners as fascinating, and he seemed
to be especially gifted in this direction
during that short time immediately
following his last talk with Edward
and his promise of reformation.. .
Edward opened Mrs. Preston's let
ter to him, expecting a line or two of
thanks for his continued Influence over
Willis. He had received a long and
very gratefully worded letter nt the
time he went back to room with Wil
lis and one or two short letters since
that time.
But be bad read only a short dis
tance when he was startled by some
news that upset him completely:
I feel that It ia only right to tell you something
of Willis' future Diana, even it he haa not tw
flded everything to you. And f am quite 'ure he
will forgive me it I speak a word in his behalf.
It may be no secret to you that Willis haa al
ways thought a great deal of your aister Freeda.
Before he Bailed for the Philippines he confessed
to me that he loved her and Imped some day to
marry her. When he waa at tii-me, after the losfl
of his arm, I found this feelitig had undergone no
change, unless to become even more emphatic.
You know he carried that little volume of poems
with him through all the fighting around Manila.
There is no question that his feeling tor your sis
ter is more than a fancy. It is a real, deep, hon
orable feeling that 1 am sure lias helped to keep
hiit: from much that ia evil.
flow what I am about to say may take you by
surprise; but for tlte sake of Willis 1 pray that
you will not dismiss it as unworthy ot your
lh nghu
Willis is determined to leave college this sum
mer and enter a business to which his uncle in
New York has invited him. It Is really a very
good position for a young man, with an assured
salary and a prospect of promotion. Willis is
competent to do the work required. My brother
wants him to become a member of the firm
eventually.
This la what 1 hesitate to tell you, but it is
what I want you to consider calmly. Willis wants
your sister to leave college, to marry him and go
to New York to live. Foolish aa this sounds at
first, as 1 have already told him, there is some
thing to be said for it. In the first place, Willia
la older than the average college atudent, and so
ia your sister. The loss of the college course is a
serious thing to consider, but other young people
bave occasionally done this, and they have had
happy, useful homes. Of course thtre la the mat
ter of your sister's feeling. I know nothing about
her thought of Willis. Probably you do. My
only thought of the matter Is that if she does
care enough for my aon to become his wife and
leave her college course you will not dissuade her
from it. Somehow I feel aa if Willis' future de
pended on the wife he has. If he should be dis
appointed here, there ia no telling
There was a step outside, the door
opened, aud Willis entered.
"Hello, old man! What are you read
ing?" he asked as he noted Edward
standing by the window with tbe letter
In bis hand.
"A letter from your mother. Want
to hear It?" asked Edward grimly.
"Yes, go ahead," replied Willis, care
lessly sitting down at his own table
ind putting bis feet up on it, as bis'
custom was.
A Fireman's Close Call.
"I stuck to my enflne, although everv
joint ache i and every nerve was racked
titb pain," wiites C. W. Bellamy, a lo
comotive fiieman, of Burlington, Iowa.,
"I was weak and pale, wi'bout any ap
petite and all run down. As 1 was
about lo give up, 1 got a bottle of Elec
tric ftitlets, and, alter taking it, I felt
a.- well s I ever did in my life " Weak,
s ckly, run down people a!aggnin new
life, stiengtb and vigor fiom their use.
1'iv them. SSatisfaciou (juaraoleed by
50 cents.
" CHAPTER XII.
Edward began the reading of Mr;.
Preston's letter In a low voice, but , '1'a
I good deal of excitement. He was
deeply roused by what she had writ
ten and tremendously angry with "Wil
lis, although if he had been asked to
tell exactly why, he might not have
been able to tell very clearly. v
He read the letter entirely through
without once looking up, and Willis
listened In silence without changing
his position. When Edward finished
and looked over at him, he was evi
dently angrier than ever, for he sud
denly walked over to Willis and ex
claimed harshly:
"What business have you to be think
ing of such a thing as this?"
"Hcito. old man. what are you readinnT"
Willis took hift f?ct dojvn from the ta
ble and looker m Edward quietly. His
answer parti.,' calmed Edward, who
never remained angry .or excited very
long at a time.
"I have no business to be thinking of
it If I have no business to care for a
girl whom 1 bave always honored In
my thought"
"You have not honored her in your
thought. If you had, you would have
stopped drinking and going with the
fast crowd all this time."
Willis turned pale, and for a mo
ment Edward thought he was going
to strike him with bis clinched fist
1'hen he turned bis face away and re
marked In a low voice:
"That's true enough. At the same
time, I've said the same thing to my
self. I know this is true also. If I
bave ever had a good thought for the
last two years, it is due to her. That
much, at least Is to be said of my feel
ing for her."
"At the same time, this is impossi
ble," continued Edward, striking the
letter with his hand.
"I don't know whether it is or not
It depends altogether on your sister to
say."
"I shall have something to sayabouJL
It," retorted Edward, his passion ris
ing again.
"You will not have anything to "say
If she actually cares enough to go with
me."
"She doesn't care for you, and never
will!" said Edward almost savagely.
"You don't know," replied Willis
quietly.
Edward was silent a moment He
did not know anything about Freeda's
feelings in tbe matter. Since bis own
unexpected feeling for Miss Seton he
bad come to learn that in cases of love
people could not always determine
with mathematical certainty Just what
a person might do under certain condi
tions. On the point of Freeda's proba
ble action he was really Jn doubt Only
! it seemed like a monstrous proposition
for Willis to entertain or for Freeda to
: consider for a moment.
I "There is one way you can find out,"
! Edward ventured to say.
"Yes, and I Intend to find out pretty
soon too."
"1 can't wish you success," replied
Edward, as be walked back to bis own
table. As be sat down he added lu a
milder tone:
; "Willis, of course I don't need to say
that I believe It would be a calamity
for my sister to marry you. She has
been brought up in an entirely different
world. She is poor; you are rich. She
is a church member; you nre not. She
. has a perfect horror, as I have, for all
the vices that are familiar to you. You
could not make ber happy."
"I could, If she loved me as I love
her."
"It's impossible. You are too far
apart even to sympathize with each
other. Besides, she never will care for
you as long as 'you continue to drink
and gamble."
"But I've quit all that. Haven't I
shown you that I can master myself?
Haven't I lived all straight enough
lately? And all for ber sake too?"
Edward did not reply. He had little
faltb in the spasms of Willis' reform.
"Can't I live down the past all right?
Is your sister never going to marry
any one but au out and out saint?
There are mighty few of 'em among
the men."
"I don't think it does auy good to
talk about It. 1 have my opinion, and
It wou't change. One thing I'm very
confident of. and that is that Freeda
will never care anything for you. She
Is here in college to get an education.
She Is uot old enough to get married.
She is the last person in the world to
think of such a thing. It is all as ab
surd as it can be."
To be continupd.
Rev Sh:ldons famous
story, ''In His Steps"
will soon appear in this
paper