Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 28, 1913)
ffe MYSTERY o f MARY * * <6KGra.ce Liviiv|$toi\.flill Lutz *AUTHOR ^‘MARCIA SCHUYLER" “PHOEBE DEANE” ♦ “DAWN OF THr MORNING ” ETC. 4 * ILLUSTRATIONS €y 7tv</ W4{T!K* •"'carystJGHZ erfJG. umsteorr c&tf&vry personally responsible for that girl's honesty.” “Well, of course, Tryon, if you wish it—” said hlB mother, with anxious hesitation. “I certainly do wish it, mother. I shall take it as personal if anything is done in this matter without consulting me. Remember, Cornelia, I will not have any trifling. A girl’s reputation Is certainly worth mors than several hats aatf MeiscoatB, ana I know she has not taken them.” He walked from the dining room and from the bouse in angry dignity, to the astonishment of his mother and sister, to whom he was usually cour tesy itself. Tryon Dunham took his way to his office much perturbed in mind. Per plexities seemed to be thickening about him. With the dawn of the morn ing had come that sterner common sense which told him he was a fool for having taken up with a strange young woman on the street, who was so evi dently flying from justice. Ah, the ring!' A sudden warm thrill shot through' him, and his hand searched his vest pocket, where he had hastily put the jewel before leav ing his room. That was something tangible. He could at least know what it was worth, and so make sure once fbr all whether he had been deceived. The stone seemed to be of unueual beauty and purity, but he would step into the diamond shop as he passed and make sure. He had a friend there who could tell him all about it. After the morning greeting, he hand ed over his ring. "This belongs to a friend of mine,” he said, trying to look unconcerned. "I should like to know if the stone is genuine, and about what it is worth.” His friend took the ring and retired behind a curious little instrument for the eye, presently emerging with a re spectful look upon his face. "Your friend is fortunate to have such a beatuiful stone. It is unusually jclear and white, and exquisitely cut. I Should say it was worth at least”—he paused and then named a sum which 'startled Dunham, even accustomed as he was to counting values in high fig ures. He took the jewel back with a kind of awe. Where had his mysteri ous lady acquired this wondroua bauble which she had tossed to him for a trifle? In a tumult of feeling, he went on to his office more perplexed than ever. Meantime, the girl who was speeding along toward Chicago had not forgot ten him. She could not if she would, for all about her were reminders of him. The conductor took charge of her ticket, teliing her in his gruff, kind way what time they would ar rive in the city. The porter was so licitous about her comfort, the news boy brought the latest magazines and a box of chocolates and laid them at her shrine with a smile of admiration hnd the words, “Th’ g’n’lmun sent ’em!” By and by, ehe opened the suitcase, half doubtfully, feeling that she was almost intruding upon another’s pos sessions. There were a dress suit and a change of fine linen, handkerchiefs, neckties, a pair of gloves, a soft, black felt negligee hat folded, a large black silk muffler, a bathrobe, and the usual silver-mounted brushes, combs and other toilet articles. She looked them over in a business-like way, trying to see how she could make use of them. Removing her hat, she covered it with the silk muffler, to protect it from dust. Then she took off her dress and wrapped herself in the soft bathrobe, wondering as she did so at her willing ness to put on a stranger's garments. Somehow, in her brief acquaintance with this man, he had impressed her with his own pleasant fastidiousness, so that there was a kind of pleasure in using his things, as if they had been those of a valued friend. She touched the electric button that controlled the lights in the little apart ment, and lay down in the darkness to think out her problem of the new life that lay before her. CHAPTER V. Beginning with the awful moment when ehe first realized her danger and the necessity for immediate flight, she lived over every perilous instant, her nerves straining, her breath bated as if she were experiencing it all once more. The horror of it! Her own Hopeless, helpless condition! But final ly, because her trouble was new and . Her body and mind, though worn with »xcltement, were healthy and young, •he sank into a deep sleep, without Having decided at all what she should do. At last she woke from a terrible Iream, in which the hand of her pur suer was upon her, and her preserver was in the dark distance. With that strange insistence which tormentB the victim of such dreams, she was obliged to lie still and imagine it out, again md again, until the face and voice of the young man grew very real in the darkness, and she longed inexpressibly For the comfort of his presence once more. At length she shook off the pursuing thoughts and deliberately roused her self to plan her future. The first necessity, she decided, was to change her appearance so far as possible, so that if nows of her escape, with full description, had been tele graphed, ehe might evade notice. To '.hat end, she arose In the early dawn ing of a gray and misty morning, and arranged her hair as she had never worn it before, in two braids and wound closely about her head. She pinned up her gown until It did not abow below the long black coat, and J folded A white linen handkerchief •boat bar throat over the delicate lace Then she looked dubiously at the hat. With a girl’s instinct, her first thought was for her borrowed lumage. A fine mist was sianting down and had fretted the window pane until there was nothing visible but dull gray shadows of the world that flew mo notonously by. With sudden remem brance, she opened the suitcase and took out the folded black hat, shook It into shape, and put it on. It was mannish, of course, but girls often wore such hats. As she surveyed herself in the long mirror of her door, the slow color stole into her cheeks. Yet the costume was not unbecoming, nor unusual. She looked like a simple school girl, or a young business woman going to her day’s work. But she looked at the fashionable proportions of the other hat with some thing like alarm. How could she pro tect it? She did not for a moment think of abandoning it, for it was her earnest desire to return it at once, unharmed, to its kind purloiner. She summoned the newsboy and pur chased three thick newspapers. From these, with the aid of a few pins, she made a large package of the hat. She decided to go bareheaded, and put the white kid gloves in the suitcase, but she took off her beautiful rings, and hid them safely inside her dress. She sacrificed one of her precious quarters to get rid of the attentive por ter, and started off with a brisk step down the long platform to the station. She followed a group of people into a car, which presently brought her into the neighborhood of the large stores, as she had hoped it would. It was with relief that she recognized the name on one of the stores as being of world-wide reputation. \\ til tor her that she was an experi enced shopper. She went straight to the millinery department and arranged to have the hat boxed and sent to the address Dunham had given her. It had cost less to express the hat than she had feared, yet her stock of monej- was woefully small. Some kind of a dress she must have, and a wrap, that she might be disguised, but what could she buy and yet have something left for food? Lifting her eyes, she saw a sign over a table—"Linene Skirts, 75 cents and $1.00." Here was a ray of hope. She turned eagerly to examine them. Piles of somber skirts, blue and black and tan They were stout and coarse and scant, and not of the latest cut, but what mat tered it? She decided on a seventy five cent black one. Growing wise with experience, she discovered that she could get a black sateen shirtwaist for fifty cents. Rub bers and a cotton umbrella took an other dollar and a half. She must save at least a dollar to send back the suit case by express. A bargain-table of odds and ends of woollen jackets, golf vests, and old fashioned blouse sweaters, selling off at a dollar apiece, solved the prob lem of a wrap. She selected a dark blouse, of an ugly, purply blue, but thick and warm. Then with her pre cious packages she asked a pleaeant faced saleswoman if there were any place near where she could slip on a walking skirt she had just bought to save her other skirt from the muddy streets. She was ushered into a little flttina-room near by. Rapidly she slipped off her fine, silk lined cloth garments, and put on the stiff sateen waist and the coarse black skirt. Then she surveyed her self, and was not ill pleased. There was a striking lack of collar and belt. She sought out a black necktie and . pinned it about her waist, and then, with a protesting frown, she delib erately tore a strip from the edge of one of the fine hem-stitched handker chiefs, and folded it in about her neck In a turn-over collar. The result was quite startling and unfamiliar. The gown, the hair, the hat, and the neat collar gave her the look of a young nurse-girl or upper servant. On the whole, the disguise could not have been better. She added the blue wool len blouse, and felt certain that even her most intimate friends would not recognize her. She folded the rain coat, and placed it smoothly in the suitcase, then with dismay remem bered that she had nothing in which to put her own cloth dress, save the few inadequate paper wrappings that had come about her simple purchases. She folded the dress smoothly and laid It in the suitcase, under the raincoat. She sat down at a writing-desk, in the waiting room, and wrote: "I am safe, and I thank yo®” Then she paused an instant, and with nervous haste wrote ‘Mary” underneath. She opened the suitcase and pinned the pa per to the lanel of the evening coat, fact three dollars and sixty-seven cents she had left in her pocketbook after paying the expressage on the suitcase At her first waking, in the early gray hours of the morning, she'had looked her predicament calmly in the face She had gone carefully over her own accomplishments. Her musical attain ments, which would naturally have ;aen the first thought, were out of the question. Iter skill as a musician was great, and so well known by her enemy, that she would probably be traced by it at once. The same argu ments were true If she were to at tempt to take a position as teacher or governess, although she vai thorough ly competent to do so. A servant’s place in some one’s home was the only thing possible that presented itself to her mind. She could not cook, nor do general housework, but she thought she coifld fill the place of waitress. With a braye face, but a shrinking heart, she stepped into a drag store and looked up in the directory the ad. •iresMs^ of several employment 5 CHAPTER V). It was half past eleven when she stepped Into the first pgency on hei list, and bosinese was In full tide. While she stood shrinking by thf door the eyes of a dozen women fas tened upon her, each with keen scrutiny. The sensitive color stole In to her delicate cheeks. As the pro prietress of the office began to ques tion her, she felt her courage falling. "You wish a position?” The woman had a noee like a hawk, and eyes that held no sympathy. “What do yov want? General housework?" "I should like a position as wait ress.” Her voice was low and sounded frightened to herself. The hawk nose went up contemptu ously. “Better take general housework, There are too many waitresses al ready.” “I understand the work of a wait ress, but I never nave done genera! housework,” she answered with the voice of a gentlewoman, which some how angered the hawk, who hac trained herself to get the advantage over people and keep it or else know the reason why. “Very well, do as you please, ol course, but you bite your own nose off Let me see your references." The girl was ready for this. “I am sorry, but I cannot give you any. I have lived only in one house where I had entire charge of the table and dining room, and that home was broken up when the people went abroad three years ago. I could show you letters written by the mistress oi that home if I had my trunk here, but it is in another city, and I do not know when I shall be able to send for it” ino rererencea!" screamed th« hawk, then raising her voice, although it was utterly unnecessary: “Ladies here is a girl who has no references Do any’of you want to venture?” The contemptuous laugh that followed had the effect of a warning to every wom an in the room. And this girl scorns general housework, and presumes to dictate for a place as waitress,” went on the hawk. "I want a waitress badly," said a troubled woman in a subdued whisper, “but I really wouldn’t dare take a girl without references. She might be a thief, you know, and then—really, she doesn’t look as if she was used to houses like mine. I most have a neat, stylish-looking girl. No self-respecting waitress nowadays would go out In the street dressed like that.” All the eyes In the room seemed bor ing through the poor girl as she stood trembling, humiliated, her cheeks burn ing, while horrified tears demanded to be let up into her eyea. She held her dainty head proudly, and turned away with dignity. "However, if you care to try,” called out the hawk, "you can register at the desk and leave two dollars, and if In the meantime you can think of any body who’ll give us a reference, we’ll look it up. But we never guarantee girls without references.” The tears were too near the sur face now for her even to acknowledge this information Sung at her in an un pleasant voice. She went out of the office, and immediately—surreptitious ly—two women hurried after her. One was flabby, large and over dressed, with a pasty complexion ant ares like a fish, in which was s>. lac) or an moral sense. She hurried aftei the girl and took her by the shouldei just as she reached the top of the stairs that led down into the street The other was a small, timid worn an, with anxiety and indecision written all over her, and a last year’s street suit with the sleeves remodeled. When she saw who had stopped the girl, she lingered behind in the hall and pre tended there was something wrong w%h the braid on her skirt While she lingered she listened. “Wait a minute, miss,” said the flashy woman. “You needn’t feel bad about having references. Everybody isn’t so particular. You come witb me, and I’ll put you in the way of earn ing more than you can ever get as a waitress. You weren’t cut out for work, anyway, with that face and voice. I’ve been watching you. You were meant for a lady. You need to be dressed up, and you’ll be a real pretty girl—” As she talked, she had come nearer and now she leaned over and whls pered so that the timid woman, who was beginning dimly to perceive what manner of creature this other woman t 'was, could not hear. But the girl stepped back with sud den energy and flashed eyes, shaking off the beringed hand that had grasped her shoulder. "Don’t you dare to speak to me!” she said In a loud, clear voice. “Don’t you dare to touch me! You are a wicked woman! If you touch me again, I will go in there and tell all those women how you have insulted | me!'* “Oh, well. If you’re a saint, starve I” hissed the woman. “I should rather starve ten thousand times than take help from you,” said the girl, and her clear, horrified eyes seemed to burn into the woman’s evil face. She turned and slid away, like the wily old serpent that she was. Down the stairs like lightning sped the girl, her head up in pride and horror, her eyes still Hashing. And down the stairs after her sped the lit tle, anxious woman, panting and breathless, determined to keep her in sight till she could decide whether it was safe to take a girl without a char acter—yet who had Just shown a bit of her character unaware. Two blocks from the employment of fice the girl paused, to realize that she was walking blindly, without any des tination. She was trembling so with terror that she was not sure whether she had the courage to enter another office, and a long vista of undreamed: of fears arose in her imagination. The little woman paused, too, eye ing the girl cautiously, then began in an eager voice: “I’ve been following you.” The girl started nervously, a cold chill of fear coming over her. Wat this a woman detective? "I heard what that awful womar said to you, and I Baw how you acter’ You must be a good girl, or yot wouldn’t have talk.ed to her that wa; I suppose I’m doing a dangerous thin,, but I cant help it I believe you’re all right and I’m yrine to twj you, if , ; . v'''.''-".jV. ■ ■ ' ' . . -S Board of Supervisors Board met Tuesday August 12, pur suant to adjoumment of June 12, with all members present. Minutes of last equalization meet ing were read and approved. Certificate of state levy from the state board of equalization being on file which is as follows: Total valuation.$3,203,498 Gen. fuDd, 5 mills on dollar.$14 017 49 University fund. 3,203 50 Special University fund. 2,402 62 Normal school fund. 2,722 97 State aid bridge fund. 640 70 Total.$24,987 28 A motion to put on an emergency bridge fund was overruled. The county levy was fixed at twelve mills, divided as follows: General fund, 44 mills.$13,620 00 Bridge fund, 4 mills. 12,818 26 Road fund, 4 mill. 801 14 Int. and bond fund 34 mills. Jl,215 98 Total, 12 mills.$38,445 38 Clerk was instructed to make levies on the amounts certified to him by the different townships, school dis tricts and villages and to spread the same on the taxable property of the said different divisions of the county. Clerk was instructed to deduc tbook accounts from the assessments, of R. L. Arthur. Board adjourned sine die. L. B. Polski, Co. Clerk. Board met Aug. 13, pursuant bo ad journment of July 17, 1913, with all members present. Minutes of last meeting read and approved. Nightingale road petition was laid over till next meeting. Warrant No. 3527, issued to Aman da B. Hunt cancelled for the reason it had been previously paid. In the matter of the dividing line between road districts 8 and 7, board on order allotted to 8 the east half and to 9 the west half of said divid ing line, being three miles of road. Board approved the following dis trict treasurers’ bonds: Anton Kos micki, Richard Bausch, Arthur Min shull, C. E. Lang and J. W. Peters, Board adjourned till after dinner, meet with all members present. Smith road was disallowed and the Commercial Club road laid over till next meeting. McDonald, Brows and Welty were appointed as a committee to confer with the Commercial Club relative to their standing a share of the dam ages on the Commercial Club road. County surveyor was ordered to survey the road running through the north half and along north side of section 29-13-15. Claims committee reported they had allowed all claims, except deduc tion for taxes and clerk was ordered to draw warrants on respective funds. genual G H Gipe.$ 9 00 W T Owens... 465 00 A S Main. 5 00 L E Dickinson. 1 oo C W Gibson. 4 50 A Anderstrom. 2 75 Klopp G Bartlett, 6 warrants.. 45 64 E E Tracy. 3 0G State Journal Co. 229 85 S C Thrasher. 35 OC Mat Janulewicz. 5 00 L A Williams..... 100 00 Swanson & Lofholm..'f 143 5fl L H Currier.. 122 56 Wm Graefe. 8 75 A J Kearns. 8 00 R A Mathew. 3 00 Louis Rein... 575 WillJHeapy.'. 3 80 S H Robinson. 3 80 Joe Cording. 3 80 L B Polski, 2 warrants. 155 60 AC Ogle... 36 50 Times Independent. 70 90 Thos Jensen. g 70 Hiyo Aden. 10 10 WO Brown. 8 20 Howard Lang. 9 80 J H Welty. 15 00 Dan McDonald... 8 80 W Rewolinski. 9 20 J W Burleigh. . 37(0 BRIDGE BUND Ashton Lumber Co. 40 00 Wenzel Rewolinski. 4 00 John Skibinski. 1 00 JosKalkowski. 2 00 John Kwiatkowski. 2 00 ROAD FUND CWConhlser. 2 20 Mat Janulewicz. 2 20 JohnStanczyk. 2 20 Frank Wagner. 13 00 George Wagner. 2 00 Conrad Koch. 2 00 L G' Gross. 4 00 F J Ondrak. 1 00 Frank Guzeoski. 10 00 John Hackbert. 1 00 E B Corninfe. 67 20 Dan McDonald. 2 90 Board adjourned to the 17th day of September, 1913. L. B. Polski, Co. Clerk. Road Notice Aufrecht Vacation To whom it may concern: The commissioners appointed to va cate the public road commencing at a point about 80 rods South of the Northwest corner of the Northeast quarter of Section 1 twp 16 North range 16 west of the 6th p. m. and running thence in an easterly, south easterly, and southerly direction, known as a part of old road No. 142, and terminating at the southeast corner of said section. The commis sioners have reported in favor of such vacation. Therefore all objections thereto and all claims for damages must be filed in the Countv Clerk’s office on or before noon of the 25th dav or October, 1193, or such road will be vacated without reference thereto. Dated at Loup City August 16, 1913. [seal] L. B. Poiaki, County Clerk. Leek pub. Sepb 18 / Don’t Forget The SHERMAN COUNTY FAIR and Stock Show 3 BIG DAYS 3 SEPTEMBER 17,18 -19 Jenner’s Park Loup City, Nebraska There Will Not Be Any Races but numerous other attractions will help carry out our purpose to make OUR FIRST EXHIBITION A Grand Success 7 Come to the First ' • Sherman County Mm Fair - and bring ALL your friends See the Secretary and get a Premium List which gives information in regard to Entries and Prizes * Sherman County Agricultural Society A. E. CHASE, Secretary Loup City, Nebraska \ ' ‘ ' • ‘ •»*»• • - • • • SX ;