Jasper County Democrat, Volume 21, Number 82, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 January 1919 — North of Fifty-Three [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

North of Fifty-Three

by Bertrand W. Sinclair

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BYNOPBIS. T - CHAPTER I—The story opens In the town of Granville. Ontario, where Miss Hasel Weir is employed as a stenographer In the office of Harrington and Bush. flhe Is engaged to Jack Barrow, a young real estate agent, and the wedding day is set'While walking with him one Sunday they meet Mr. Bush, Hazel’s employer, who for She first time seems to notice her attractiveness. Shortly afterward, at his request, she becomes his private stenographer. After three months Mr. Bush proposes marriage, which Hazel declines, and after a stormy scene in the office Hazel leaves her employment, Mr. Bush warning her he would make her sorry for refusing him. 1 CHAPTER 11-Bush makes an effort, by a gift of flowers, to -compromise Hazel in 'the minds of her friends. She returns them. The next day Bush is thrown from his horse and fatally hurt. He sends for Tlazel, who refuses to see him before he •dies. Three days afterward It is announced that he left a legacy of $5,000 to Hazel, “in reparation for any wrong I may have done her.” Hazel recognizes at once what construction will be put upon the words. Bush had his revenge. should let It bother us. If he’s really ,eo badly hurt, the chances are He’s out of his head. Don’t scowl at that bit ,of paper so, Johnnie-boy.” Barrow laughed and kissed her, and !the subject was dropped forthwith. X,ater they went out for a short walk. In an hour or so Barrow left for home, promising to have the concert tickets lor Thursday night. Hazel took the note out of her belt and read It again when she reached her room. • Why should he want to eee her? She wondered at the man’s persistence. He had insulted her, according to her view of It —doubly Insulted her with threats and an enforced caress. Perhaps he merely •wanted to beg her pardon; she had heard of men doing such things In their last moments. But she could not •conceive of Mr. Andrew Bush being sorry for anything he did. And so she could not grasp the reason for that eleventh-hour summons. But she could see that a repetition of such incidents might put her in a queer light. Other folk might begin to wonder and inquire why Mr. Andrew Bush took such an ■“lnterest” In her—a mere stenographer. Well, she told herself, she did not care—so long as Jack Barrow’s ears were not assailed by talk. • She smiled at that, for she could picture the reception any scandal peddler would get from him. The next day’s papers contained the ‘obituary of Mr. Andrew Bush. He had died shortly after midnight. And despite the fact that she held no grudge, Hazel felt a sense of relief. He was powerless to annoy or persecute her, and she could not escape the conviction that he would have attempted both had he lived. She had now been Idle a matter of days. Nearly three months were yet to elapse before her wedding. It seemed scarcely worth while to look for another position. She had •enough money saved to do everything she wanted to do. It was not so muci) lack of money, the need to earn, a$ the monotony of idleness that irked her. She had acquired the habit of work, and that is a thing not lightly shaken off. But during that day she gathered together the different Granville papers, and went carefully over the “want” columns. Knowing the town as she did, she was enabled to eliminate the unlikely, undesirable places. Thus by evening she was armed with a list of firms and individuals requiring a stenographer. And in the morning she sallied forth. Her quest ended with the first place she sought. The fact of two years’ service With the biggest firm In Granville was ample recommendation; in addition to which the office manager, It developed In their conversation, had known her father in years gone by. So before ten o’clock Miss Hazel Weir was entered on the pay roll of a fur-niture-manufacturing house. It was not a permanent position; one of their girls had been taken ill and was likely to take up her duties again In six weeks or two months. But that suited Hazel all the better. She could put tn the time usefully, and have a breathing spell before her wedding. * Three days went by. Hazel attended the concert with Jack the evening of the day Mr. Andrew Bush received ostentatious burial. At ten the next morning the telephone girl called her. “Someone wants you on the phone, Miss Weir,” she said. Hazel took up the dangling receiver. | “Hello l” "That you, Hazel?” She recognized the voice, half guessing It would be he, since no one but Jack Barrow would be likely to ring her up.

"Surely. Doesn’t It sound like me?” “Have you Been the morning papers?” "No. What—” “Look ’em over. Particularly the Gazette.” The harsh rattle of a Receiver slammed back on Its hook without even a “good-by” from him struck her Uke a slap In the face. She h|ung up slowly, and went back to her work. Never since their first meeting, and they had not been exempt from lovers* quarrels, had Jack Barrow ever spoken to her like that. Even through the telephone the resentful note In hlsj voice grated on her and mystified her. She was chained to her work —which, despite her agitation, she managed to wade, through without, any radical er-

noon. The tweive-to-one intermission gave her opportunity to hurry up the street and buy a Gazette. Then, Instead, of going home to her luncheon, she entered the nearest restaurant. She wanted a chance tP read, more than food. She did not unfold the paper until she was seated. A column heading on the front page caught her eye. The caption read: “Andrew Bush Reaves Money to Stenographer.” And under It the subhead: “Wealthy Manufacturer Makes Peculiar Bequest to Miss Hazel Weir.” The story ran a full column, and had to do with his interment. There was a great deal of matter anent the principal beneficiaries. But that which formed the basis of the heading was a codicil appended to the will a few hours before his death, in which he did “give bequeath to Hazel Weir, until lately in my employ, the sum of five thousand dollars in reparation for any wrong I may have done her.” Hazel stared at the sheet, and her face burned. She could understand now why Jack Barrow had hung up his receiver with a slam. She could picture him reading that article and gritting his teeth. Her hands clenched till the knuckles stood white under the smooth skin, and then quite abruptly she got up and left the restaurant even while a waiter hurried to take her order. If she had been a man, and versed In profanity, she could have cursed Andrew Bush till his soul shuddered on its journey through infinite space. Being a woman, she wished only a quiet place to cry, (TO BE CONTINUED.)