Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 27, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 February 1917 — the Making of a Man [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

the Making of a Man

By HENRY" FOSTER

(Copyright. by W. G. Chapman.) -Steve and Ms wife had talked it over for a long time before the legacy arrived so unexpectedly froin Ms. iniele Harry. It was only for SSOO, but it clinched Steve’s resolution. An uneducated man, leaving the primary school at twelve to work for his mother’s* Support, Steve was at heart a gentleman. But a man's heart counts for very little against a man’s utanners. And Steve was—not rough, for he was altogether fineness itself—buF ill-bred. He would not -pass muster except among the laboring class. Netta was something higher. She had worked in a department store, w here Steve was one of the packers. He had come to know her by knocking down a masher who was pestering the girl with his attentions. And Netta, struck by the kindness of the man, gradually came to care for him. And they had been married three years. There were two babies, a girl and a boy. And Steve was still packing case, at sls a week. They had talked over their own and their children's future so many tithes. And the same blank wall stretched beready every penny of their* little earn-

ings went week by week. Then came the legacy. “There's no chance for an uneducated man like me,” Steve said. “The only way for me to make money is to find it.” “To find it, dear?” asked Netta. - “In the ground,” said Steve. “I’m going to Alaska. And, Netta, dearest—” “Oh, Steve, I can’t have you go,” she sobbed. “It’s for little Ellen and Tom,” he answered. “We’ve got to- make the sacrifice, Netta.” She brought herself to his viewpoint. For the sake of the bibles, to give them the advantages which their father had never had. Steve 4nust go. He set two years as the limit of his absence. He took a hundred dollars and left Netta with four hundred. That would last her forty weeks, with great economy. And long before that period had elapsed Steve would send her some more. So he promised, and so he performed. At the end of six months Steve was making his fifty weekly in Alaska, lie was working in a store, but he wrote that he was keeping his eye open for opportunities, and at the end of

the year he meant to go out prospecting. He inclosed for Netta two hundred dollars. ~ - Thereafter she got twenty-five weekly: She littie guessed the -cheapness of money in Alaska, or what Steve was denying himself. And gradually she settled down ,to accustom herself to his absence. Steve wrote that he was going into the interior,and she might not hear from him for a while, $ hut he was pot going into any danger, and she was not to worry. A' letter came two months later, inclosing five hundred, and announcing that Steve had struck a rich claim. Netta wrote opt of the joy of her heart, and he answered much later. That was the last letter Steve received from Netta. “Ab the months slipped by and none became desperate. -At last he settled down grimly to ’ making his pile. - He trusted Netta, and-he believed that, if she were dead, somebody would have written. He did make Inquiries about her, but people do not trouble to inter--eSt themselves on behalf of those who are distant, and nobody answered him. When the two years were ended Steve saw a fortune within his grasp if he remained a third year. He remained a third, and at the end of that time it was a case of a cool million if he remained a fourth. So he stayed a fourth, and then busies went to the dogs, and It meant a fifth year. At the end of the fifth Steve sold but

for three millions and a half and went home. . . .. , He had had little hopes of finding Netta in the flat they had occupied, and* so ho was spared that disappointment. But the old lady who camo to the door tail after Steve as he turned av’ay. “Are you Mr. Stephen Jackson?” she asked. ' , < “Steve Jackson —yes’ ma’am," said Steve. “I can tell yon where your wife is.” she said. “She comes here every three months to tell ine that if you ever come h;iek here she has the house at 124 Chestnut street.” Steve almost whooped with gladness, but he only thanked her and hurried aw ay. Ami in an hour's, time he was in The subu rbgn district, tfptThad found !24. It was a trim littlp cottage, covered with a flowering .vine. and Steve suddenly found himself too shy to enter. And as he hung outside the door, in an agony of apprehension and joy, two children entered the gate of the little garden. ’- They were Ellen and Tom. Steve knew his own anywhere. And they were dressed as he had never hoped to dress his children. “Where are you going?” asked the k man at the gate. "We’re coming from school,” answered the little boy. “You are Tom Jackson, aren't •you?” “Yes. This is Ellen.” “And does your" mother live here?” “Yes, sir.” “And your father?” “Father’s away, but he’s coming home soon,” said the little girl. "Mummy prays for him to come every night. Anu we pray, too.” Steve looked at the house and fit the • children. These were his —• everything was as ,a fie. had dared to dreum that it would be; and yet now he was afraid. He was afraid that he, a common man, would bring his com-

monness into their lives. He had been away so lohg—why should he ever return? In that moment, for the first time, in spite of what his child had said, he had a doubt of Netta, He wondered whether she had -Stopped writing to him because of this, because he would drag her and her children down. - Xnd~lifT turned miserably away. He would go somewhere to think it all over. He went down the sunny street, slinking like a .whipped ,dt>g. Why had he not spent those five years in educating himself, to make himself worthy of his wife and children? “Steve 1” She was standing before him, and she threw herself into his arms. “Steve! It is you, dearest “Netta!” The man’s doubts dissolved at the sight of her radiant face. “Steve, my dear, how I have longed for you! I have been working as a stenographer, and the babies —you must' see our babies —why didn’t you write, Steve?” When she grew more coherent expl mm tjons followed. Steve’s letters had not been received —perhaps the mail was lost. Netta had not known where to write him ; all trace of him had been lost when he went into the interior. And the letters he had sent to her address had not been forwarded. Many tenants had come and gone before the old lady whom Steve had seen, and the post office does not always remember. “Why were you going away from the house, Steve?” asked Netta. “I was ashamed,” he burst out. “I saw—our-babies, Netta, and I thought —God forgive me —an uneducated man like me would drag them down —” “Jim, dear,” said Netta, “it is better to be a good man than a learned one. But please God you are going to be both, Jim, because I am making good money, and you and I can live as we want to live, and study together —” Then he told her -about the fortune.

At Last He Settled Down Grimly to Making His Pile.