Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 163, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 12 July 1915 — THE HAND AND THE RING [ARTICLE]

THE HAND AND THE RING

By VANE TREMAINE.

Jack Bronson gave up his seat and clung to a strap while he tried to read the morning paper. All around him were other men and women pressing closely as the train bored swiftly through the underground passage. At Thirty-fourth street, when the car was unmercifully packed, Jack felt a tug at the pocket of his loose stormcoat. His hand slipped down swiftly and closed on another hand, a soft, satiny little hand, that struggled in his for a moment and then freed itself, leaving something metallic in his grasp. Another man, tall like himself, pressed closely. He was bending down talking to a girl standing by him whose face Jack could not see. Jack smiled grimly. The train was slowing down at his station and he wormed his way out to the street, his unseen booty clasped in his hand. He did not once look at it until he had reached his office and opened his desk. Then, with an odd sense of curiosity, he opened his clenched hand and looked at the ring which he had slipped from the intruding hand in his - pocket. It was well worth looking at, too — a woman’s ring, a .magnificent emerald, surrounded by brilliants. “Good heavens!” gasped Jack, staring at the valuable jewel. “What have I done?”

Cool reflection told him that possibly he had been made a receptacle for stolen goods by a thief. He locked the ring in his safe and proceeded with the business of the day. Every morning he kept a close watch of the dally papers to see if the loss was advertised. But he found no hint of it Occasionally there came the recollection of that satiny little hand which had struggled with his in the crush if the car where all Were wedged tightly like sheep in a pen. And the touch of that strange hand thrilled him persistently. Jack Bronson was in love. If any one person was responsible for this fact it might be his sister, Fanny, who had invited him down to spend the week-end, and there introduced him to Alice Selden. Miss Selden was a wonderful girl, Jack had discovered almost immediately. She was the only girl he had ever met whom he could really picture as his wife.

They got on together remarkably well, too. They enjoyed the same sports, the same books, the same pictures —practically the same everything. “You never wear any rings,” he said as they sat together on the beach. Alice looked down at her little tanned fingers and shook her dainty head. y “I used to wear—one,” she said rather pensively. “It was a darling ring, and to punish myself for losing it I have vowed not to wear another until I find it” “Not any ring at all?” quavered Jack, who had been dreaming of placing an engagement ring on her pretty hand. "No,” she said firmly. “I want to free you from your rash vow. I want to make it possible for you to Indulge in at least one ring,” he said earnestly. Alice blushed again, for there was no mistaking his meaning. "What sort of ring was it?” “A cluster ring, an emerald surrounded by diamonds. Father gave It to me on my last birthday. I lost it, in the subway. It was rather an odd affair —if you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about it any more.” Then she proceeded to change the subject. “I want to speak to you,” whispered Jack as they met next morning in the breakfast room. “Join me on the beach in half an hour. May I expect you?” She nodded assent and he passed on. When they met he told her of his love for her, and his utter inability to live without her. When she, in turn, confessed that hjs swift wooing had won her heart., he would have slipped a blazing solitaire on her finger, but she drew her hand away hastily. “My vow, you know,” she reminded him. “Close your eyes,” he almost sharply commanded. When he saw she had obeyed him he took the emerald ring from his pocket and slipped it on the little finger of her right hand. At its touch Alice uttered a cry. “It’s mine, Jack—my ring,” she laughed. “Now I can tell you. I was with my brother Arthur. The car was crowded and we were standing. I felt faint and put my hand, as I thought, into Arthur's pocket to get my little handbag. I had slipped it in there for safe-keeping. The pocket was empty and I was just going to speak to Arthur about it when your hand gripped mine. I managed tb get my hand away, but my ring remained in your pocket. - “Of course, I did not dare make a hiss because you could face me and accuse me of having my hand in your pocket, and so I let it go. It seems too good to be true.” “Most perfect happiness is!” he said, holding her close to his heart. (Copyright, 1915. by U* McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) ~r : y *