December, 1941
T H E K I N G ’ S B U S I N E S S
458
The Story of the Lost Star
By GRACE LIVINGSTON H ILL
no, it was paid for. He punched away at his machine and the lines appeared in the type, but his thoughts were busy, 'ten thousand dol lars! . With that he could, with self-re spect, marry Mary! George K. Hamil ton. That was the rich guy who lived in the big h o u s e , with one blind wall s t u c k on its side that everybody said was a picture gal lery. He was rolling in wealth so it must be real. But what was this thing he had lost that was w o r t h everlasting favor and ten thou sand d o l l a r s ? A jewel ? A silver tab let ? Something of
His fingers flew over the keys of his machine as he laid his plans, and his heart throbbed with excitement. Ten thousand dollars! Early dawn saw him dressed in his best and hurrying on his way to Beth lehem amid a trainload of laborers going out for the day’s work. But he saw . not pick nor shovel nor dinner pail, nor noted greasy overalls and sleepy- eyed companions. Before his shining eyes was a star, sometimes silver, sumptuously engraved, sometimes gold and set in sparkling jewels, leading him on into the day of adventure. Arrived in the City of Steel, he went straight to the news agent: “Have you been here some time?” “Bom here.” “Then tell me, have you a Star of Bethlehem ?” The agent shook his head. “Don’t smoke that kind. Don’t keep that kind. Try the little cigar store down the street.’’ And he swung him self under the shelf and, shouldering a pile of morning papers, rushed off down the platform. Out in the street John stopped a man whose foot was just mpunting the running board of his car: “Do you know anything about the • Star of Bethlehem?” “Never heard of it, man. A Ford’s good enough for me!” and he swung into his car and shot away from the curb hurriedly. He asked a little girl who was hurry ing away from the bakery with a basket of bread. “Why, Star - of - Bethlehem is a flower,” she said, “a little green and white starry flower with pointed petals. But you can’t find Stars-of-Bethlehem this time of year!” And she stared after him. And about this time the Bishop back at home was opening the morning paper at the breakfast table as he toyed with his grapefruit and coffee:
intrinsic historic value perhaps ? Some thing that must be well known, or the writer would not have spoken of it in that off-hand, indefinite way as the Star of Bethlehem, as if there were but one. Bethlehem—Bethlehem—that was the place where they made steel! Steel! Why—steel, of course. George K. Hamilton. Hamilton the steel king! Ah! Why hadn’t he thought of it at once? And why couldn’t he go to Bethle hem and find out all about it? He was the first one, excepting the editor of the Lost and Found column, to see this ad. Why wouldn’t, he stand first chance of the reward if he worked it right? If he caught the first train in the morning, -he would have a good start before any one read the morning papers. He would be through .with his work by three a. m. at the latest, and there was a train at five. He would have time to get back to his boarding place' . and clean up a bit, perhaps scribble a note to Mary telling her to be ready for the wedding >
ABOUT A WEEK before Christ- / \ mas in a small city of the East / \ there appeared in the Lost and Found column this advertisement: “Lost. Sometime between the World War and the present morning, The Star of Bethlehem. The finder will confer everlasting favor and receive a reward of ten thousand dollars if it is returned to the owner between the hours of sundown and midnight on Christmas Eve. “ (Signed) George K. Hamilton, “Eleven, Harvard Place.” The typesetter blinked and paused in his busy work, read it again and wondered. Ten thousand dollars! Was it a joke? It must be a mistake! But ! [ Copyright, 1932, by J. B. Lippin cott Company. The story as it appears on these pages is a condensation of a longer narrative which is available in booklet form .— EDITOR.]
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