Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 140, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 21 June 1918 — At the Garden Gate [ARTICLE]

At the Garden Gate

By GEORGE ELMER COBB

(Copyright, MIS. Western Newepeper Union./ Bruce Tyrell and Aida Wrenn were acting out a sweet little .love story all by themselves. So sty were only friends they told themselves, but their inner consciousness revealed to them that they were fast drifting into that delightful ijjiase of super-exist-ence where life is one rose-tinted, delirious whirl of ecstatic joy. Aida was a schoolteacher. So was her sister, Marcia, in a rural district fifty niflfes distant. The family was a pleasant one,-the mother of the oldfashioned, fast-disappearing type, indulgent and sympathetic, the father a storekeeper of the town with trade enough to keep things comfortable. He was content, and not willing to jovet business expansion at the cost of risking his little capital and passing sleepless nights worrying over it. It was by mere chance that Bruce had become acquainted with Aida. The biggest rainstorm Hillsboro had ever known was on the program in active display, one warm spring afternoon, when he was absolutely marooned upon a rise'of ground near the roadside, with no shelter except an open stock shed. He was rather glad of the' company of two horses which crowded out' of the drenching rain with him. They were docile and friendly. It had begun raining just after the bell of the little crossroads schoolhouse called in the odd two dozen scholars from* the playground. There was no afternoon recess, for the rain never let up until four o’clock. By that time the roadway was a rushing torrent and the water was up over the steps of the little frame building. At its open-doorway stood the pretty schoolteacher, with a dismayed face noting the grewsome prospect, while at the windows the pupils crowded generally, very much entertained by the novelty of their situation. Conditions were less discouraging at» the roof shelter. The water had been over shoe tops for an hour, but a run of a hundred feet In knee-deep water would have landed Bruce on the higher level. A sturdy framework of planks, apparently used as a bridge across some creek or ditch, had been swept from its moorings and had landed directly against the side of the shelter shed. There came a final fearful downpour, resembling a cloudburst, Bruce saw that the water had come up clear over the threshold of the little schoolhouse and was pouring in over the floor. “Something ought to be done for those refugees. They’ll begin to get frightened soon. There may be no danger, but there will be some wailing among those little tots when it begins to get dark.” Bruce studied the watery waste between the shed and the schoolhouse, and then tried to calculate how far the floating, but stalled platform might be utilized as a raft When he waded around to it the water was up to his; knees, and he doubted not that it was waist high farther down the slant in the direction of the marooned pupils and their teacher. Across one side of the shed was stretched a long pole beyond which a food trough had been placed to contain fodder for the horses. It was thick, staunch and secured by nails at both ends. “The- very thing,” decided Bruce, tore it loose, waded to the platform and got upon it. Tlien using the pole as deftly as he had manipulated it when a lad playing the Castaway afloat on a home pool, he . started his bulky bark in the direction of the beleaguered ones caged within the little schoolhouse. He was inspired mightily to diligent effort' as the schoolmistress appeared at its door, waving her handkerchief encouragingly . The little ones clustered about her and at the windows, keeping up a babel of excited crjes and cheers. The experiment was a rare succSss, and as, for the first time close at hand, the eyes of Bruce rested on the lovely face of Alda Wrenn, he felt all his trouble. weJl.je<-anwensAaL In the three groups the little ones were rafted across the expanse to where Miss Wrenn, fully familiar with the topography of the vicinity, pointed out a rising bluff path. Dry shod and fluttering with rare .excitement, the little ones dispersed, able t< reach their homes in safety. Miss Wren insisted on remaining behind until the last of her charges were Safely delivered from peril and discomfort. “How can we ever thank you for your wonderful, work?” she fluttered, as she stepped upon the raft. “What is that?” she added, with a quick backward glance. Then she shuddered. A grinding creak had sounded out; the underpinning of one end of the schoolhouse had given way. Lopsided, the structure toppled and rested four feet deep in the water, crushing the door and windows out of shape, a wreck. Bruce Tyrrell found hirbself quite a hero in the eyes of the little community after that. But, still better to his method of appreciation, he became a welcome visitor at the Wretan home. Aida's face was radiant whenever he appeared and all the world seemed nun sb Ine to Bruce, subject of a first attack of that Incurable disease —love. 1 There came a cloud over the spirit of his dreams one day. As he was passing through a little park square, he diverted his course, but his gaze was fixed on Alda, seated on a bench beside a young man, a stranger. They

were so very close tug iher that he seemed to whisper to her at- times. Then as they arose to separate. Aida seized both hands of the handsome young fellow and held in a fervent clasp, meanwhile looking earnestly into his eyes. “Who can he be? And she?” reflected Bruce in a troubled way. “Can it be possible that her heart is already engaged and that I'.am blindly hoping for a love that cap never be mine?” Bruce grew depressed and was half minded to cease his visits to the Wrenn home. He was magnanimous concerning Aida, for although their relations had been friendly she had really never given him any definite encouragement as a suitor. She was no coquette, he was sure of that, and he blamed his own sanguine nature for the daring presumption that Aida’S handclasp had at times been lingering and tender, and that her eyes responded- sympathetically to his oWn ardent glances. \

“I can hardly break the engagement for 'this meditated Bruce, “but tomorrow I” Aida and himself were to attend a party at Wildwood, a few miles distant on the trolley line. Bruce called for her that evening. Never had she looked so beautiful. A pretty locket and chain he had never noticed before were her only Jewelry adornments. Bruce sighed as hq recalled that but for his discovery of the day, he intended to present her with a friendship ring he carried in his pocket. Her acceptance of it would have decided him as to the fact that there was some real depth to the interest she had manifested in him. • And, further, never had she been more charming in the kindly, pleasant way in which she received his attentions. He partly took heart of hope that he might be entertaining a suspicion without foundation. Still, he was constrained and unhappy all the evening.

As they left the trolley car on the ■return trip and proceeded towards ■ Alda’s home, the latter paused abruptly with a little cry of dismay. “Oh. dear!” she exclaimed, her hand to her throat, “I have lost the locket” “Are you sure?” questioned Bruce solicitously. “Oh, yes, I had it when I got aboard the car.” She shook her dress and they retraced their way to the trolley station. It was bright moonlight, but their searching eyes discovered no trace of the missing article of jewelry. “You had better let me see you home,” suggested Bruce. “Then I will return and wait till the car comes back on its return trip. It may be that you lost the locket on the car.” “I shall wait up for your report,” said Alda. “I am very anxious about the locket.” Bruce signaled and halted the car as it returned. At his first question regarding the locket and chain the conductor produced the lost article. “Just found it under a seat,” he explained, and Bruce hastened to impart the glad news to Aida. He turned the locket over and over in his hand. Its upper case came open. “It is as I feared !” he half groaned, and well he might, for a bright ray of moonlight revealed a circular photograph within the case. It was that of the man he had seen with Aida that afternoon. Oh, there was no doubt now of the existence of a rival ! Bruce had one thought only in his mind —|p return the locket to Aida and forget her.

“Jqst a minute, please,” spoke a voice behind him as he neared the Wrenn home, and Bruce faced a new, astounding circumstance. Turning, he confronted the original of the photograph. . “You t are Mr. Tyrrell,” spoke the other. “I have heard Aida —that Is, Miss Wrenn —speak of you and have seen you opce or twice before this. I also know you are her close friend. Will you do me a great favor? Are you going to her home?” “Yes,” answered Bruce, and gruffly, and darkly suspicious. “Will you hand her this note?” and the other tendered a folded paper. “Why should I?” resented Bruce, drawing back coldly. “Must I tell you?” questioned his companion. “Yes, I will. Alda says you are a man to trust. Well, then, I am secretly married to Alda’s sister, and the note tel’-s her that Marcia will . -be ■ here- - la-the «iornhig to break the news to her parents.” “Oh!” It was passed by as a mere commonplace aspiration by Alda’s brother-in-law. For Bruce it expressed relief, and hope and joy. With alacrity he accepted the commission and with delight. He listened later to Alda’s explanation that her sister had left the locket at home on her last visit, and Aida had borrowed it for the occasion of the party. And then Bruce felt that he should also unburden his heart, which he did, and graciously Alda listened to him. and the white moonlight irradiated two glowing, happy as Bruce kissed bls fiancee good night at the garden gate.