Reno - a Book of Short Stories and Information Part 4

Eleven robberies were reported and six apprehended.

Reno Chamber of Commerce--The Reno Chamber of Commerce is an organization of 1,300 members employing a managing director, a secretary and a traffic manager on full time. These men maintain a credit bureau, mining information bureau and traffic bureau, and are carrying out a program of civic improvement and state development. The rooms occupy the fourth floor of the Reno National Bank Building in the heart of the city, and are used by some thirty organizations as a civic center. The business and community life of Reno revolves around the Chamber of Commerce.

[Ill.u.s.tration with caption: THE TRUCKEE FROM RIVERSIDE DRIVE]

[Ill.u.s.tration with caption: LOOKING NORTH OF VIRGINIA STREET]

Aviation Field--The munic.i.p.al aviation field consists of some sixty acres of land one mile south of the city, and is headquarters for the aerial mail service. The county is building a hangar costing $30,000 and the government stations over thirty men at the field. Two mail planes arrive each day and are repaired and overhauled at the field.

In the event of the mail service being extended to Los Angeles and the Northwest, Reno will be the point at which the mail transfers are made for these points.

University of Nevada--The University of Nevada is located in Reno, on a beautiful eminence overlooking the city. It is an accredited university offering for study all the regular courses for matriculation and bachelors degree in mining, agriculture, arts and sciences, civil engineering, electrical engineering and mining engineering. The teaching and scientific staff number 75 and the registration, 465 students. The state is expending $100,000 a year on new buildings at the University and it costs $170,205 a year to maintain from state and federal funds. Laboratory service is afforded the mining, agricultural and stock raising industries of the state and the University is looked upon with great pride by the citizens of Nevada.

Fis.h.i.+ng and Hunting--The country surrounding Reno abounds in game and fish and outdoor life is the fas.h.i.+on. The streams and lakes are all well stocked with game trout and a good basket of trout can be caught in the Truckee river within the city limits of Reno. Deer, grouse, sagehen, rabbits, coyotes and wildcats are plentiful on the ranges and can be reached within a few hours from Reno.

Valley Farming--The valley in which Reno is located contains some 30,000 acres of fertile land, and is especially suited to the raising of garden truck, fruits, chickens and grains and gra.s.ses. There is a ready market for all the produce that is raised in the valley. A small farm of a few acres can be obtained within a mile of the city for a reasonable figure, and a good living earned in spare hours after work in the city.

PART 2

RENO TRAGEDIES

Mrs. Smith did her little six months in Reno and the world's sympathy was with her, and the recording angel, I dare say, winked solemnly to himself and said: "Another domestic tragedy!"....

It is certainly a tragedy to be told outright by the husband one has borne children for and has been a good wife to, and has loved and cherished for the best part of one's life, to "cash in one's old face and make room in his heart and home for a younger and more fair." This was the case, apparently, with the Smiths.

And yet during my short stay in Reno, I have heard of more tragic cases than that of Mrs. Smith. Mrs. Smith had been left her child and money. We can't buy happiness with money, it's true, but we can at least buy comfort, and that is something after all. I knew of a different case where there was no money to buy comfort: a mother, with a baby in her arms and the one desire in her heart, to make it legitimate before it should grow old enough to understand..... I met this heart broken mother in a hospital in Reno, six years after her arrival there. I had heard about her and went to see the child.

"The divorce colony, all frivolity and gaiety," you say? Pardon me, I know better!

This devoted mother had loved the father of her child. She had left an impossible husband and gone with a man who had shown her sympathy, kindness and love when her life was all unhappiness. She had fought bravely for her freedom, but for some reason had been unable to obtain it. The months had dragged into years, the woman toiling day by day in a shop to support herself and baby, until years of work and worry had claimed their prize at last, and she had fallen ill; and it was then I heard of her and went to see her. I could still see traces of beauty in the now hardened lines about her mouth and sunken eyes. It has been said that "absence makes the heart grow fonder," but alas! there are too many cases where "absence makes the heart grow... yonder." The man whose wife she had hoped to become forgot her in less than a year and pa.s.sed out of her life....

I shall never forget the day I saw this fatherless child, with her little pale face, rose-bud mouth and big brown eyes, which when she lifted them to mine were filled with unshed tears. I knew that this little lonely child of fate understood.... even at the age of six. I just wanted to take her in my arms and cry....

One beautiful morning a mother arose and called at the door of her daughter's bedroom. What, no answer? She opened the door and looked in. Why, the bed had not been slept in! The mother knew that Marjory had been despondent of late, and she knew why. Can you imagine the icy hand that gripped that mother's heart when she looked upon the empty couch. An hour later Marjory's beautiful young body was found floating in the stream that runs through the University grounds among the green trees, with suns.h.i.+ne filtering through and the birds singing their glad notes of life among the leafy branches. As pure and sweet as a desert lily, and as dainty as an apple blossom was this daughter of Nevada. He who said "Truth is stranger than fiction" well nigh spoke truthfully indeed.

Why wish to leave, Marjory, when you possessed youth, beauty and loving friends; when the month was June and all the world rejoiced?

Indeed, why?

If Marjory's stiffened lips could have answered, she would have said: "Yes, but my lover proved untrue: yesterday he was married to the Queen of the Divorce Colony; today they are on their honeymoon, and I am in the great unknown...."

It is between the hours of twilight and night. The last fading light of the setting sun is reflected upon the waters of the Truckee River, in a silvery, rose-tinted hue, indescribable in its delicate beauty.

There is a strange lady seated on the veranda of an imposing Colonial home overlooking the river. She is writing; sometimes she stops to gaze upon the glory of the sunset with great dreamy eyes, whose depths seem unfathomable. How the soft twilight glow enshrines her face! But now the sun has disappeared, yet the light seems still to cling about her beautiful form. In a brighter light you might see that her lips are crimson with the glow of youth, though her face is pale. Her hair, parted in the middle and dressed straight back, and her white gown give her the appearance of a Madonna. In her bodice, she wears a white rose which from time to time she caresses in a dreamy fas.h.i.+on.....

Just here Eileen--her name is romantic isn't it?--is attracted by a young man who comes up the street whistling as he walks full of the joy of youth and life. He runs up the steps, two at a time. The lady on the porch lifts her eyes just one moment, but womanlike she sees much in a glance. She sees that his eyes are of a wonderful dark blue; that his hair is thick and wavy; and that he is tall, straight and strong. How lithe and supple he seems, too, as he runs up the steps and disappears into the house. Has he seen the lady Madonna? She does not know. There is indeed something strange about this dark haired man; something out of the ordinary and fascinating....

The Holbrooks had been immensely wealthy at one time but owing to gambling and unsuccessful mining deals their fortune had dwindled, and at the death of Mr. Holbrook his widow had found that her sole possessions consisted of a beautiful home and three lovely children.

Eileen Reed had come to Mrs. Holbrook with a letter of introduction from a friend in the East, and had been taken into the home for the period of her exile.

It was young Holbrook who had tripped up the steps and entered the house without apparently seeing her. Having a keen woman's understanding, I wondered if this apparent ignoring of the lady's presence was not what first caused her keen interest in the young man, for Eileen was not accustomed to being ignored. She bore her crown of beauty with added brilliance and grace because of the pa.s.sing years, and was fully aware of her power to sway the will of those about her, and move the hearts of men with her irresistible charm and perfect splendor, alike persuasive, compelling and all-powerful.

She had never really loved: a poor girl of a respectable family, she had taken up nursing; had married a wealthy doctor, and had been in the position of the penniless but beautiful wife of a rich husband.

At dinner Eileen was presented to young Holbrook. I happened to be a guest at dinner on that particular evening, and noticed a slight effort on the part of the new arrival to interest the young man.

However, young Holbrook was cordially polite only. After dinner they sauntered out on the piazza and chatted, for some time. During the conversation, Eileen got the impression that if he had expressed his opinion about divorces, it might not have been altogether complimentary. He had grown up in Reno and for more than fifteen years had seen the divorcees appear and vanish, and oh!--what a tale he could have told.

However, he evidently thought this woman different or at least out of the ordinary, and he was right; she was a most unusual and unusually interesting woman.

They drifted into a rather serious conversation; they spoke of the old-fas.h.i.+oned chivalry; the profound respect men had for women in the old-fas.h.i.+oned bygone days; he spoke of his father with so much reverence, dignity and pride, and this boy-man with all his premature experience, gave Eileen glimpses into a soul, into his soul, which was pure and clean and good.

Eileen was rapidly becoming interested in this young head of the household; she found herself listening most attentively to every one of his words. After hearing nothing but silly wordly chatter for years, it seemed good to listen to this man who seemed to have absorbed all the romance and mystery of the land of his birth. At one time he would speak like a boy of twenty; the next moment like a man of forty; always there seemed to be present two personalities, one the care-free, happy boy, the other the all-wise, far-seeing man, with a keen intellectual understanding of every phase of life.

So much were these two people interested in each other that neither noticed that it had grown quite late and a little chilly. Eileen s.h.i.+vered slightly and rather unconsciously; young Holbrook noticed it.

"Why, you are cold, and it is late; I am sorry I did not realize it,"

he broke out in astonishment as he glanced at his watch; "really you must forgive me for keeping you up!"

He extended his hand as he bade her good night. Eileen returned his good night in her most charming manner, though rather mechanically; something had come over her; she did not know it, but for the first time in her life she seemed to have fallen in love....

Much to my surprise and strangely enough after that evening these two people seldom met and were never alone together; it seemed to me as though young Holbrook avoided Eileen without seeming to do so. I could not understand his att.i.tude unless he felt himself slipping and was trying to avoid temptation. I felt that his apparent indifference only served to fan the flames in Eileen's heart. She struggled with her wounded pride though there never was any outward sign of her feelings until she became ill.

The first day's illness brought a gorgeous bouquet of red roses. "Oh, why did he do that, and why did he send red roses, the emblem of love and pa.s.sion?" and why did Eileen clasp them madly to her heart and drink in their sensual sweetness? For three long weeks Eileen lay ill with burning fever, and always there were fresh red roses, but he himself did not come until Eileen began to convalesce. And one day he came and stood by her couch, and looked down, at her. He saw that she was paler, but the lips were still as scarlet as the petals of the American Beauties on the table by her side. The rose-colored light cast a glow over the prettiest breast and shoulders G.o.d had ever moulded! They said very little; it would be interesting to know what their thoughts were.....

Shortly after Eileen came out of the hospital she sent a little token of appreciation to Mr. Holbrook, in recognition of his unfailing kindness during her illness. That same evening they met, by chance, and as he clasped her hand and thanked her for the little gift, the pressure of his hand sent a strange thrill to her heart; she stammered something in a tremulous voice and rushed away. Later in the evening they met, shall we say again "by chance", at dinner. They danced together, and the pressure of his strong arms nearly maddened Eileen.... Oh, why do we play with fire and why is forbidden fruit so sweet!

A strange woman this, with her dual personality: a Madonna and a lover of all things good and beautiful, but a Cleopatra when the pa.s.sionate fires of her soul were stirred; and this night, a pa.s.sionate love that lacked all reason, dominated everything else in her being. When they had parted and she was alone in her room, sleep refused her offices: twelve: one: two.... and her eyes still were staring into the darkness.... Not a sound; all was quiet. She rose from her couch, her hair streaming, her body all aglow. She donned a flimsy, rose-colored dressing gown, opened her door, crept silently down the hall and went bodily into young Holbrook's room. In a dressing gown and slippers he sat, reading a magazine; he must have been restless, too. "Why Mrs.

Reed--Eileen--what is the matter?"

"The matter is, Boy, that I love you with all my heart and soul." And as he held her in his arms he whispered: "And I love you."

For the first time since he had held her in his arms early that evening her reason a.s.serted itself for a moment, and she pressed her hand over his lips to stifle the words. She had thought of poor little Marjory and her white face in the stream, and of a thousand other reasons why they should part. There were sacred promises on both sides to be kept. "But be mine," she pleaded, "just for tonight."

He held her in his arms; she was his very own, and she counted his heart-throbs as they beat against her breast. He scented the perfume of her breath against his cheek, and drank deep of the wine of her red lips, as she whispered again her sweet confession through a mist of tears.... "The Woman Thou Gavest Me!"

No one could better grace love's throne, nor rule more royally. Voice so low and tender and heart so warm, all herself she gave, and gladly, thoughtlessly, recklessly. Is it true that all humanity means to do right though often wrong: that the heart at times must obey the mandates of circ.u.mstances and environment: that even the purest and best succ.u.mb to temptation? Another day, and reason rules!

He was engaged to a girl who had been his little sweetheart as far back as he could remember. He had carried her books and pulled her sled and fought her battles, and now he surely would never break her heart. There is duty; an invention of the Devil, but it must be met, though hearts break and burn; though we wander through a desert of hallowed love and d.a.m.ning desire. This dream was to end. For months those two beings faced their little world with only a nod as they pa.s.sed by; not even as much as a hand-clasp. Who can tell what the man thought, or if he cared? But the woman wept out her sorrow in my arms.

Confession is good for the soul, so it is said; there is joy in a heartache sometimes, and sweet content in tears. She told me how she lay awake and listened for his footsteps. If he came into the room her heart would almost cease beating. She almost fainted once when she met him coming in with his fiancee... but in silence she suffered; pride and duty ruled.

"How exquisitely he tortures me," she said. "He uses roses as his weapons.... But what think you of this my friend? I shall bear his image into life! What matter laws and customs, and sins forbidden....

I shall be happy again when I hold my baby in my arms"....

So terribly shocked was I that I could only gasp in amazement, but when I looked into the face of the woman, behold.... the Madonna!

There seemed to be a spiritual light illuminating her face and she was far away in the land of dreams, looking into the face of her blue-eyed baby; born of a great, great Love, sacrificed to Duty. Life.... What a tragedy! Fate, did you say? Thank G.o.d for Time, the healer of all wounds. As someone has said: "Never a lip was curved in pain that could not be kissed into smiles again!"

Just half an hour before she was leaving Reno, as we were dropping the last of the little silver toilet articles into her small traveling bag, and gathering up the odds and ends here and there, the telephone rang. At Eileen's request I answered. A manly voice said: "Mr.