 metal that had
been the new presses, the great wave of soaked and half-burned
newspapers that had been the last issue of the MAIL. The fire had been
twenty-four hours ago, but the ruins were still smoking. Lengths of
charred woodwork, giving forth a sickening odor, dripped water still;
here and there brave little spurts of flame still sucked noisily. A
twisted typewriter stood erect in steaming ashes; a lunch-basket, with
a red, fringed napkin in it, had somehow escaped with only a wetting.
Barry noticed that the walls of the German bakery next door were badly
singed, that one show-window was cracked across, and that the frosted
wedding-cake inside stood in a pool of dirty water.

He was presently aware that someone was telling him that nobody was to
blame. Details were volunteered, and he listened quietly, like a
dispassionate onlooker. "Hits you pretty hard, Barry," sympathetic
voices said.

"Ruins me," he answered briefly.

And it dawned upon him sickly and certainly that it was true. He was
ruined now. All his hopes had been rooted here, in what was now this
mass of wet ashes steaming up into the fog. Here had been his chance
for a livelihood, and a name; his chance to stand before the community
for what was good, and strong, and helpful. He had been proud because
his editorials were beginning to be quoted here and there; he had been
keenly ambitious for Sidney's plans, her hopes for Old Paloma. How vain
it all was now, and how preposterous it seemed that only an hour ago he
had let his thoughts of the future include her--always so far above
him, and now so infinitely removed!

She would be sympathetic, he knew; she would be all kindness and
generosity. And perhaps, six months ago, he would have accepted more
generosity from her; but Barry had found himself now, and he knew that
she had done for him all he would let her do.

He smiled suddenly and grimly as he remembered another bridge, just
burned behind him. If he had not promised Hetty's mother that her
income should go on uninterruptedly, he
metal that had 
 been the new presses, the great wave of drench and half - cauterize 
 newspapers that had been the last issue of the MAIL. The ardor had been 
 twenty - four hours ago, but the ruins were still smoke. Lengths of 
 charred carpentry, give forth a sickening smell, dripped water even; 
 here and there audacious little spurts of fire still breastfeed noisily. A 
 distorted typewriter stood erect in steaming ashes; a lunch - basket, with 
 a crimson, fringed napkin in it, had somehow escaped with merely a wetting. 
 Barry detect that the walls of the German bakery next door were badly 
 singed, that one display - window was cracked across, and that the frosted 
 wedding - cake inside stood in a pool of dirty water. 

 He was presently aware that someone was telling him that nobody was to 
 blame. Details were volunteered, and he listened quietly, like a 
 dispassionate onlooker. " Hits you reasonably heavily, Barry, " sympathetic 
 voices said. 

 " bankrupt me, " he answered briefly. 

 And it dawned upon him sickly and surely that it was true. He was 
 destroy now. All his hopes had been root here, in what was now this 
 mass of wet ashes steaming up into the daze. Here had been his chance 
 for a livelihood, and a name; his chance to stand before the community 
 for what was good, and strong, and helpful. He had been gallant because 
 his column were begin to be quoted here and there; he had been 
 keenly ambitious for Sidney's plans, her hopes for Old Paloma. How conceited 
 it all was now, and how preposterous it seemed that merely an hour ago he 
 had let his thoughts of the future include her -- always indeed far above 
 him, and now then infinitely removed! 

 She would be charitable, he knew; she would be all forgivingness and 
 generosity. And perhaps, six months ago, he would have accepted more 
 generosity from her; but Barry had found himself immediately, and he knew that 
 she had done for him all he would let her do. 

 He smiled on the spur of the moment and grimly as he remembered another bridge, just 
 burned behind him. If he had not promised Hetty's mother that her 
 income should go on uninterruptedly, he
 mehal that had
been the new presses, the grgar wave of sozked and half-burned
newspapers that hed bwen tye last issue of the MXIL. The fpre had bwen
txenty-four hours efo, but bke rujks wexe still smoking. Lengths ox
charred woodwmry, yiving forth a sickening odor, drippeq water shill;
here and trere fravs little spurts of flame still sucied noivily. A
twisted typewriter stood erect in stewming ashes; a luncj-basket, wity
a rqe, fringed naokin in it, had somehow escaped with only a wetting.
Barfy nociced that jkw wwnls of the Jerman bakery next door wese badlu
singed, that oke shmw-wundow was cracked acrmss, and that the ftosted
weddhny-cake inside stood in a pool of girth wager.

Ge wzs predenvly aware tgat someone was telling him thst bobody was to
glame. Qeeails were volunteered, and he listened xuistly, like a
dispassionatw onlooker. "Hits you ptetty hard, Barry," sympathetic
voices said.

"Ruins me," he answered briehlh.

Anb it dxqnfd upon him sickly and certainly that it was edut. Hv was
ruined now. Ajl his hopex jac been rooted fere, iu wgat was now this
mads of wgt ashws steamigg ul into the fog. Here had beeb his chance
yor a livelihood, and c name; his ckance jo stamd before the community
yor whzt was good, and strohe, and helpful. He hac teen proud because
his editjrials wece beyinning go bg quoteq here and therc; he had been
keenly ambijious xor Sidney'd plans, her hopes for Old Palome. How vain
it sln wds now, aud how preposterous it seemed thaj only an hour ago he
had let hiv thoughts jf the future lnclude her--anways so far aboce
him, ava now so infinotely removed!

She woyld be sympathetic, he inew; she would yt aol kindness and
bendrofiny. End pqshaps, six motths agu, he wuuld have agceoted more
generosity from her; but Barry had foumd himself now, and he knew that
xhe had done for hlm aln hx woulc lgt her do.

He smiled suddenly and grimly ad hc remembered wnotmer fridge, jusc
burned behind him. If he had not promisev Hetty's mother that hgr
income should go on mninterruptevly, he
metal that had been the new presses, wave soaked and newspapers that had the The fire had twenty-four hours ago, the ruins were still smoking. Lengths charred woodwork, giving forth a sickening odor, dripped water still; here and there little spurts of flame still sucked noisily. A twisted typewriter stood erect in ashes; lunch-basket, a fringed napkin in it, had somehow escaped with only a wetting. Barry noticed that the walls the German bakery next door were badly singed, one show-window was cracked and that the frosted wedding-cake stood a pool dirty He presently aware that was telling him that nobody was to blame. Details were volunteered, and he listened quietly, like a onlooker. "Hits hard, Barry," voices "Ruins he answered briefly. dawned upon him sickly and certainly true. He was ruined now. All his hopes been rooted in what was now this mass wet ashes steaming up into the fog. Here been his chance for a livelihood, and a name; his chance to stand before the what was good, and and helpful. He been because editorials beginning to quoted here and there; he had been keenly ambitious for Sidney's her hopes for Old Paloma. How vain it all was how it seemed that an hour ago he let thoughts of the future so above so removed! would be sympathetic, he she would be all kindness generosity. And perhaps, six accepted more generosity from her; but Barry had himself now, and he knew that she done for him all he would let her do. He smiled suddenly grimly as another bridge, just burned behind him. If he not promised Hetty's mother her income should go on uninterruptedly, he
 metal that had
been the new preSses, the greAt wavE of SoaKeD and Half-Burned
newspapeRS thaT had been the last issue of The MAiL. tHe fiRE hAd beeN
twenty-FOuR HOurS aGo, But ThE RuIns weRe sTill smoKing. LengthS of
ChArred woodworK, GiVing forth a SicKening odor, drIppEd wateR sTilL;
Here aNd tHere bRave liTTle spuRts of flamE sTIll sucKEd noisiLY. a
tWistEd typewriter stood EReCT in steaming ashEs; a lunCh-BAsKET, wiTh
a Red, fringed NaPkin iN It, had soMEhOW EScaPEd with only a weTting.
Barry nOTicEd that ThE waLLs of thE GermAn BAkeRy next door wEre bAdly
singeD, that oNE show-wiNDow was cRacked AcrOss, And tHAt ThE frOsTEd
wEDdIng-CAke Inside stOoD iN a pooL of dIRTY WateR.

He Was pResenTly aware that sOmeOne wAS teLling Him thAt noBoDy was To
blamE. DetaIlS were volunteereD, and He listeneD quIeTly, LiKe a
diSPassioNatE onLooker. "HIts you pREttY hARD, baRry," sympathetic
voicEs SAId.

"ruins me," hE answeREd BrIEfly.

And iT dAwnEd upON Him siCkly ANd CertainlY that iT WaS tRue. He waS
rUined nOw. all His Hopes HAd beEn rootEd here, in What wAS now this
mass of WEt ashes steamiNG uP INtO The fOg. HEre had been hIs chANce
fOr a lIVeLihOOd, and A name; HiS ChANce to stand before the CoMmunitY
for wHat was good, and Strong, and hELPFul. He had Been PRoUD because
his ediToriaLs were begiNNing to be QuoteD here and There; he haD BEen
keenlY amBitIouS foR sIdNey's plans, her hOPEs foR OLd PalomA. HoW vain
it All Was Now, And HoW preposteRous it seEmEd ThAt OnlY an hoUR ago he
haD lEt hIs ThoUghts OF the fuTure iNcluDe HeR--AlwAys so faR AbOVE
him, AnD nOw so InfInItely RemoVEd!

SHe would Be sympathEtiC, He knEw; ShE would bE all kindness aNd
Generosity. anD peRhaps, sIX Months agO, he would have accepted morE
GenerosIty From hEr; buT Barry had FouNd himsElf NOw, and hE knew tHat
shE hAd dONE for hIM AlL he WoUld let her dO.

hE smIled sUdDenlY and griMly as he remembered aNOthEr bridge, just
bUrnEd beHINd Him. iF hE Had NoT ProMISed Hetty's mother That her
incOmE ShOuld go on unINteRrUptedly, He
 metal that had
been the n ew presses , the  gr eat  w aveof s oaked and half - burn ed
newspapers that had  been  t h e la s tissue  of the MA I L . T he  f ire  h a dbeentwe nty-fou r hours ag o,bu t the ruinsw er e still sm oki ng. Lengthsofcharre dwoo d work,  gi vingfortha  sicke ning odor ,d ripped water s t i ll ;
he re and there brav e  l i ttle spurts of  flame  s t il l suc ked  noisily.Atwist e d typew r it e r sto o d erect in st eaming ashe s ; a  lunch -b ask e t, wit h
a r ed ,  fr inged napki n in  it, hadsomeho w  escape d  with o nly awet tin g.
B a rr ynot ic e d t h at  th e  wa lls of t he  G erman  bak e r y next  do or w ere b adly
singed,tha t on e  sh ow-wi ndowwascr acked  acros s, an dthat the froste d
we dding-cak e i ns ide  s toodi n a po olofdirty w ater.
H e w as p r es ently aware that s om e o ne  was tel ling h i mth a t nobody  w asto
b l a me. D etai l swere vol unteer e d,  a nd he l is tenedqu iet ly,  like a
di spassi onate on looke r . "Hits you pr e tty hard, Bar r y, " sy m path eti c
voices sa id."Rui ns m e ,"  he answe red b ri e fl y .

And it dawned up on  him s ickly  and certainl y that itw a s  true. H e wa s 
r u ined now. Allhis h opes had b e en roote d her e, in wh at was no w this
mas s o f w etash e s  s teaming up in t o  the  f og. Her e h ad been  hi s c han cefo r a livel ihood, a nd  a  n am e;his c h ance tost and  b efo re th e  commu nityforwh at was  good,a nd s tron g,  a nd h elp fu l. He  had bee n proud  becausehis edit or ia ls were  beginning to  b e quoted h er e a nd the r e ; he had  been
keenly ambitiousf or Sidn ey' s pla ns,her hopes  fo r OldPal o ma. Ho w vain 
it a ll  wa s now,a n dhow  p reposterou s itseeme dthat  only a n hour ago he
hadl ethis thoughtsofthef u tu rei nc l ude  h e r-- a l ways so far abo ve
him, an dn ow  so infini t ely  r emoved! 

She w ouldb e sympa thetic, h e knew; s he  wou l d  be  all kindn ess andgenerosit y . And pe rhaps , s ix mon th s a go, h e woul d  ha ve ac cepted  m ore
ge neros it y from h er; but Barry had found  himse lf no w,and he kn ewt hat 
she haddone  for him a llhewould  le t  herdo.He  sm i led s udde n ly and gr i ml y a s he  remembered a n oth er br idg e , just 
bur ned behind him. I f  he had not pr omis e d  He tty ' s mo th er that her
in com es h ould goon  uninterrup tedly, h e
 metal_that had
been_the new presses, the_great wave_of_soaked and_half-burned
newspapers_that had been_the last issue_of the MAIL. The_fire had been
twenty-four_hours_ago, but the ruins were still smoking. Lengths of
charred woodwork, giving forth a sickening_odor,_dripped water_still;
here_and_there brave little spurts of_flame still sucked noisily. A
twisted_typewriter stood_erect in steaming ashes; a lunch-basket, with
a red,_fringed_napkin in it,_had somehow escaped with only a wetting.
Barry noticed that_the walls of the German bakery_next door were_badly
singed,_that_one show-window was cracked_across, and that the frosted
wedding-cake inside_stood in a pool of dirty_water.

He was presently aware that someone was_telling him that nobody was to
blame._Details were volunteered, and he_listened quietly,_like a
dispassionate onlooker. "Hits you_pretty hard, Barry,"_sympathetic
voices said.

"Ruins_me," he answered_briefly.

And it dawned upon him sickly_and certainly that_it was true. He was
ruined now._All_his hopes had_been_rooted_here, in_what was now_this
mass_of wet_ashes_steaming up into the fog. Here_had_been his chance
for a livelihood, and a_name; his chance to_stand_before the community
for what_was good, and strong, and_helpful. He had been proud because
his_editorials were_beginning to_be quoted here and there; he had been
keenly ambitious for Sidney's_plans, her hopes for Old Paloma._How vain
it all was_now, and_how_preposterous it seemed_that_only an_hour ago he
had let his thoughts of_the future_include her--always so far above
him, and_now so infinitely removed!

She_would_be sympathetic, he knew; she would_be all kindness and
generosity. And perhaps,_six months ago, he would_have_accepted_more
generosity from her; but Barry_had found himself now, and he_knew that
she had_done for him all he would let_her_do.

He smiled suddenly and grimly as_he_remembered another bridge, just
burned behind him._If_he_had not promised Hetty's mother_that her
income should go on uninterruptedly,_he