in--but each
man knew and served me now faithfully, loyally; each giving me a hand to
pull me up a step higher. They hated each other bitterly, vindictively,
as journalists have been known to do occasionally; and as I knew the
noble qualities of both, what better reward could I give for their
goodness to me than to clasp their hands together and make them friends?
It was not an easy task, it required _finesse_ as well as courage, but
that was the kind of task a woman loves--if she succeeds, and I
succeeded.

They became friends, strong, earnest friends for the rest of their lives.
Death severed the bond, if it is severed; I do not know, and they may not
return to tell me--I only know that in the years that were to come, when
each man headed a famous paper, Colonel John A. Cockerill, of the New
York _World_, who wrote many a high word of praise for me when victory
had at last perched on my banner, and Colonel Piatt, who with his
brilliant wife made me known to many famous men and women in their
hospitable Washington home, loved to recall that night in Columbus when,
all unconsciously, we three came so near to each other, only to drift
apart for years and come together again.

And once I said, "like motes," and Donn Piatt swiftly added, "and a
sunbeam," and both men lifted their glasses and, nodding laughingly at
me, cried: "To the sunbeam!" while Mrs. Piatt declared, "That's a very
pretty compliment," but to me the unanimity of thought between those
erstwhile enemies was the prettiest thing about it.

But even so small a success as that had its attendant shadows, as I soon
found. Though I was then boarding, with Hattie McKee for my room-mate, I
felt I still owed a certain duty and respect to Mrs. Bradshaw. Therefore,
when this wonderful thing happened to me, I thought I ought to go and
tell her all about it. I went; she gave me a polite, unsmiling
good-morning and pointed to a chair. I felt chilled. Presently she
remarked, with a small, forced laugh: "You have become so great a person,
I scarcely expected to see you here to-day."

I looked reproachfully at her, as I quietly answered: "But you see I am
here;" then added, "I did not think you would make fun of me, Mrs.
Bradshaw, I only tried to do my best."

"Oh," she replied, "one does not make fun of very successful people."

I turned away to hide my filling eyes, as I remarked: "Perhaps I'd better
go away now."

I moved toward the door, wounded to the heart. I h