6
3 —. - y
The Man on I
k the Box J
W By HAROLD MacGRATH \
■ Authorot "TheGreyCloak," , 'The I
Puppet Crowu." ,
Copyright, X 904, Tbe Bobbs-Merrill Company
CHAPTER XXI.
THE KOSK.
On Wednesday morning, clear and
cold; not a cloud floated across the
sky, nor did there rise above the hori
zon one of those ciouds (portentious
forerunners of evil!) to which novel
ists refer as being "no larger than a
man's hand." Heaven knew right well
that the blight of evil was approach
ing fast enough, but there was no visi
ble indication on her face that glorious
November morning. Doubtless you
are familiar with history and have
read all about what great personages
did just before calamity swooped down
on them. The Trojans laughed at the
wooden horse; I don't know how many
Roman banqueters never reached the
desert because the enemy had not paid
any singular regard to courtesies in
making the attack; men and women
danced on the eve of Waterloo —"On
with the dance, let joy be unconflned;"
my heroine simply went shopping. It
doesn't sound at all romantic; very
prosaic, in fact.
She declared her intention of making
a tour of the shops and of dropping
into Mrs. Chadwick's on the way home.
She ordered James to bring around the
pair and coupe. James was an exam
ple of docile obedience. As she came
down the steps, she was a thing of
beauty and a joy for ever. She wore
one of those jackets to which several
gray-squirrel families had contributed
their hides, a hat whose existence was
due to the negligence of a certain rare
bird, and many silk-worms had spun
the fabric of her gown. Had any one
called her attention to all this, there
fsn't any doubt that she would have
been shocked. Only here and there are
women who see what a true Moloch
fashion is; this tender-souled girl saw
only a handsome habit which pleased
the eye. Health bloomed in her cheeks,
health shone from her eyes, her step
had all the elasticity of youth.
"Good morning, James," she said
pleasantly.
James touched his hat. What was
it.he wondered. Somehow her eyes
looked unfamiliar to him. Had I been
there I could have read the secret eas-
I — a; m-K
UP
WENT SHOPPING,
ily enough. Sometimes the pure pools
of the forests are stirred and become
impenetrable; but by and by the com
motion subsides, and the water clears.
So it is with the human soul. There
had been doubt hitherto in this girl's
eyes; now, the doubt was gone.
To him, soberly watchful, her smile
meant much; it was the patent of her
innocence of any wrong thought. All
night he had tossed on his cot, think
ing, thinking! What should he do?
Whatever should he do? That some
wrong was on the way he hadn't the
least doubt. Should he confront the
colonel and demand an explanation, a
demand he knew he had a perfect
right to make? If this should be evil,
and the shame of It fall on this lovely
being? . . . No, no! He must
stand aside, he must turn a deaf ear
to duty, the voice of love spoke too
loud. His own assurance of her inno
cence made him desire to fall at her
feet and worship. After all, it was
none of his affair. Had he not played
at this comedy, this thing would have
gone 011 and he would have been in ig
norance of its very existence. So, why
should he meddle? Yet that monot
onous query kept beating on his brain:
What was this thing?
He saw that he must wait. Yester
day he had feared nothing save his
own exposure. Comedy had frolicked
in her grinning mask. And here was
Tragedy stalking in upon the scene.
The girl named a dozen shops which
she fesired to honor with her custom
and presence, and siepped into the
coupe. William closed the door, and
James touched up the pair and drove
off toward the city. He was perfectly
indifferent to any possible exposure. In
truth, he forgot everything, absolutely
and positively everything, but the girl
f.tid (lie fortification plans she had
l#>en dr iw'nfr.
Scarce a half a dozen bundles were
the result of the tour among the shops.
"Mrs. Chadwick's, .lames."
The call lasted half an hour.
As the story-teller I am supposed to
be everywhere, to follow the foot
steps of each and all of my characters,
and with a fidelity and perspicacity
nothing short of the marvelous. So I
take the liberty of imagining the pith
of the conversation between the woman
and the girl.
The Woman: How long, dear, have
W8 kno>n each other?
The Girl: Since I left school, I be
lieve. Where did you get that stun
ning morning gown?
The Woman (smiling in spite of the
serious purpose she has in view):
Never mind the gown, my child; 1
have something of greater importance
to talk about.
The Girl: Is there anything more
important to talk about among women?
The Woman: Yes. There is age.
The Girl: But, mercy, we do not
talk about that!
The Woman: I am going to estab
lish a precedent, then. I am 40 or
at least, I am on the verge of it.
The Girl (warningly): Take care! If
we should ever become enemies! If I
should ever become treacherous!
The Woman: The world very well
knows that I am older than I look.
That is why it takes such interest in
my age.
The Girl: The question is, how do
you preserve it?
The Woman: Well, then, I am 40,
while you stand on the threshold of
the adorable 20s. (Walks over to pic
ture taken IS years before and con
templates it.) Ah, to be 20 again; to
start anew, possessing my present
learning and wisdom, and knowledge
of the world; to avoid the pits into
which I so carelessly stumbled! But
no!
The Girl: Mercy! what have you
to wish for? Are not princes and am
bassadors your friends; have you not
health and wealth and beauty? You
wish for something, you who are so
handsome and brilliant!
The Woman: Blinds, my dear Betty,
only blinds; for that is all beauty and
wealth and wit are. Who sees behind
sees scars of many wounds. You are
without a mother, I am without a
child. (Sits down beside the girl and
takes her hand in hers.) Will you let
me be a mother to you for just this
morning? How can any man help
lo\ing you! (impulsively.)
The Girl: How foolish you are,
Grace!
The Woman: Ah, to blush like that!
The Girl: You are very embarrass
ing this morning. I believe you are
very sentimental. Well, my handsome
mother for just this morning, what is
it you have to say to me? (jestingly.)
The Woman: I do not know just
how to begin. Listen. If ever trouble
should befall you, if ever misfortune
should entangle you, you will promise
to come to me?
The Girl: Misfortune? What is on
your mind, Grace?
The Woman: Promise!
The Girl: I promise. (Laughs.)
The Woman: I am rich. Promise
that if poverty should ever come to
you, you will come to me.
The Girl (puzzled): I do not under
stand you at all!
The Woman: Promise!
The Girl: I promise; but —
The Woman: Thank you, Betty.
The Girl (growing serious): What
is all this about. Grace? You look so
earnest.
The Woman: Some day you will
understand. Will you answer me one
question as a daughter would answer
her mother?
The Girl (gravely): Yes.
The Woman: Would you marry a
title for the title's sake?
The Girl (indignantly): I?
The Woman: Yes; would you?
The Girl: I shall marry the man I
love, and if not him, nobody. I mean,
of course, when I love.
The Woman: Blushing again? My
dear, is Karloff anything to you?
The Girl: Karloff? Mercy, no. He
is handsome and fascinating and rich
but I could not love him. It would be
easier to love —to love my groom out
side.
(They both smile.)
The Woman (grave once more):
That, is all I wished to know dear.
Karloff is not worthy of you.
The Girl (sitting very erect): Ido
not understand. Is he not honorable?
The Woman (hesitatingly): I have
known him for seven years; I have
always found him honorable.
The Girl: Why, then, should he not
be worthy of me?
The Woman (lightly): Is any man?
The Girl: You are parrying my
question. If lam to be your daughter,
there must be no fencing.
The Woman( rising and going over
to the portrait again): There are some
things that a mother may not tell
even to her daughter.
The Girl (determinedly): Grace,
you have said too much or too little.
I do not love Karloff. I never could
love him; but I like him, and liking
him, I feel called upon to defend him.
• The Woman (surprised into showing
her dismay): You defend him? You!
The Girl: And why not? That is
what I wish to know; why not?
The Woman: My dear, you do not
love him. That is all I wished to
know. Karloff is a brilliant, handsome
man, a gentleman; his sense of honor,
such as it is, would do credit to many
another man: but behind all this
there is a power which makes him
helpless, makes him a puppet, and
robs him of certain worthy impulses.
I have read somewhere that corpora
tions have no souls; neither have gov
! ernments. Ask me nothing more,
I Betty, for I shall answer no more
questions.
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 1906.
The Girl: I don't think you are
treating me fairly.
'Flie Woman: At this moment I ;
would willingly share with you half
of all I possess In the world.
The Girl: But all this mystery!
The Woman: As I have said, some
day you will understand. Treat Kar
loff as you have always treated him,
politely and pleasantly. And 1 beg of ,
>ou never to repeat our conversation, j
The Girl (to whom illumination sud- j
derly comes; rises quickly and goes
over to the woman; takes her by the
shoulders, and the two stare into each
other's eyes, the one searchingly, the
other fearfully); Grace!
The Woman: I am a poor, foolish
woman, Betty, for all my worldliness
and wisdom; but I love you (softly),
and that is why I appear weak before
you. The blind envy those who see,
the deaf those who hear; what one
does not want another can not have.
Karloff loves you, but you do not
love him.
(The girl kisses the woman gravely
on the cheek, and without a word,
makes her departure.)
The Woman (as she hears the car
riage roll away): Poor girl! Poor,
happy, unconscious, motherless child!
If only I had the power to stay the
blow! . . . Who can it be, then,
that she loves?
The Girl (in her carriage): Poor
thing! She adores Karloff, and I never
suspected it! I shall begin to hate
him.
How well women read each other!
James had never parted with his
rose and his handkerchief. They were
always with him, no matter what liv
ery he wore. After luncheon, Wil
liam said that MiSB Annesley desired
HE HESITATED.
to see him in the study. So James
spruced up and duly presented himself
at the study door.
"You sent for me, Miss?"— his hat
in his hand, his attitude deferential
and attentive.
She was engaged upon some fancy
work, the name of which no man
knows, and if he were told, could not
possibly remember for longer than ten
minutes. She laid this on the read
ing-table, stood up and brushed the
threads from her little two-by-four
cambric apron.
"James, on Monday night I dropped
a rose on the lawn. (Finds thread on
her sleeve.) In the morning when I
looked for it (brushes the apron
again), it was gone. Did you find it?"
She made a little ball of the strag
gling threads and dropped it into the
waste-basket. A woman who has the
support of beauty can always force a
man to lower his gaze. James looked
at his boots. His heart gave one great
bound toward his throat, then sank
what seemed to be fathoms deep in
his breast. This was a thunderbolt
out of heaven itself. Had she seen
him, then? For a space he was tempted
to utter a falsehood; but there was
that in her eyes which warned him
of the uselessness of such an expedient.
Yet, to give up that rose would be like
giving up some part of his being. She
repeated the question: "I ask you if
you found it."
"Yes, Miss Annesley."
"Do you still possess it?"
"Yes, Miss."
"And why did you pick it up?"
"It was fresh and beautiful; and I
believed that some lady at the dinner
had worn it."
"And so you picked it up? Where
did you find it?"
"Outside the bow-window, Miss."
"When?"
He thought for a moment. "In the
morning. Miss."
"Take care, James; it was not yet
11 o'clock at night."
"I admit what I said was not true,
Miss. As you say, it was not yet 11."
James was pale. So she had thrown
it away, confident that this moment
would arrive. This humiliation was
premeditated. Patience, he said, in
wardly; this would be the last
opportunity she would have to humil
iate him.
"Have you the flower on your per
son?"
"Yes, Miss."
"Did you know that it was mine?"—
mercilessly.
"Yes; but I believed that you had de
liberately thrown it away. I saw no
harm in taking it."
"But there was harm."
"I bow to your superior judgment,
Miss." —ironically.
She deemed it wisest to pass over
this experimental irony. "Give the
I flower back to me. It is not proper
that a servant should have in his keep
ing a rose which was once mine, even
if I had thrown it away or discarded
it."
Carefully he drew forth the crum
pled flower. He looked at her, then at
the rose, hoping against hope that she
might relent. He hesitated till Ue saw
an Impatient movement of the ex
tended hand. He surrendered.
"Thank you. That is all. You may
go." She tossed the withered flower
Into tho wastebasket.
"Pardon me, but before I go I have
to announce that I shall resign rny po.
sit ion next Monday. The money which
has been advanced to me, deducting
that which is due me, together with the
amount of my fine at the police-court,
I shall be pleased to return to you on
the morning of my departure."
Miss Annesley's lips fell apart, and
her brows arched. She was very much
surprised.
"You wish to leave my service?"—as
if it were quite impossible that such a
thing should occur.
"Yes, Miss."
"You are dissatisfied with your po
sition?" —icily.
"It is not that. Miss. As a g?co;n
I am perfectly satisfied. The trouble
lies in the fact that I have too many
other things to do. It is very dis
tasteful for me to act in the capacity
of butler. My temper is not equable
enough for that position." He bowed.
"Very well. I trust that you will
not regret your decision." She sat
down and coolly resumed her work.
"It is not possible that I shall re
gret it."
"You may go."
He bowed again, one corner of hia
mouth twisted. Then he took himself
off to the stables. He was certainly in
what they call a towering rage.
If I were not a seer of the first de
gree. a narrator of the penetrative or
der, I should he vastly puz/.led over
this singular action on her part.
[To Re Continued.]
WHEN LONGFELLOW SANG.
SlnKine School* Wore the Hafte
ami "Joseph" llnd Cnnelit
the Krvrr.
The office of station agent at George
town was held for a number of years
by William Horner. In those days
singing schools flourished throughout
the country districts, and Horner was
one of the most prominent in this di
version, relates the Boston Herald,
On one occasion a friend from Bos
ton was visiting him, and he wished to
show him the country. Accordinly
after the last train had gone, Horner
hitched up his horse and drove the
visitor down to Plum island, returning
through Newbury somewhat after mid
night.
When he came to the old Longfellow
place on the hill, where Joseph Long-*
fellow was then living, he pulled in
his horse. "I want to stop here a
minute," he said.
Leaving the astonished visitor in
the buggy, Horner went to the door
and rapped loudly. The old gentle
man within, hearing the noise, aros«
and came at wee to the door. As
soon as he appeared, Horner, without
a word, began to sing:
"Should auld acquaintance be for
got—"
Longfellow, standing in the door
way, clad only in his night clothes,
took up the song, and together they
finished it. Horner turned and re
joined his companion, while the old
gentleman went back to bed.
The visitor was sufficiently aston
ished by this time to exclaim lit the
unusual occurrence.
"Oh," said Horner, "anybody in
this country will get up to sing with
you!"
"Any Time Yoo Say."
A Boston financier whose summer
home is on the south shore, recently
paid the fines imposed on a group of
lobstermen after the raid of the state
fish commission for short lobsters. At
that particular beach the broker's name
has the prestige of the president's.
One Saturday afternoon, as he seated
himself in his touring car at the rail
way station, he directed the chauffeur
to follow a certain road to his estate in
order that he might pass the shanties
of the lobstermen. Having plans for a
sail, and noticing, as he followed the
shore, that it was then about half
tide, he inquired of the first lobster
man he met when it would be high
tide. With hat in hand, the man in
oilskins replied: "Any time you say,
Mr. X."—Boston Herald.
Seemed to Hnve illm Cornered.
The teacher was discoursing to the
class on the wonders of nature. "Take
the familiar illustration of the sting of
a wasp," he said, "as compared with
the finest needle. When examined
through a microscope the sting is
still sharp, smooth and polished, while
the needle appears blunt and rough.
"It is so with everything. The
works of nature are infinitely superior
to those of art. Try how we may, we
cannot improve on nature."
"It isn't so with my eyes, teacher,"
said a little girl in the class.
"Why, how is that, Nellie?" he
asked.
" 'Cause nature made me cross-eyed,"
she said, "and the doctors fixed my
eyes all right."—Youth's Companion.
*ot A in lilt IOIIM for Kuther.
A New Hampshire man who had at
various times been a candidate for
public office, says the Boston Herald,
has a small son about six years of
age. The Herald says six years, and
that part of the story is probably as
true as the rest.
The lad, who had been meditating
upon tho uncertainties of kingly ex
istence, asked his mother:
"If the King of England should die,
who would be king?"
"The Prince of Wales."
"If the Prince of Wales should dit
who would be king?"
The mother endeavored to explain
but the boy, with a deep breath, s»id
"Well, anyway, I hope pa won't tr«
for iL"
Balcom & Lloyd. I
1 ========== §
IWE have the best stocked
general store in the county B
and if you are looking for re- w
liable goods at reasonable
prices, we are ready to serve fig
you with the best to be found. !9
Our reputation for trust- pj
gj worthy goods and fair dealing «|
ffl is too well known to sell any p
8 but high grade goods. j|
I Our stock of Queensware and j|
H Ohinaware is selected with p
k great care and we have some «|
B of the most handsome dishes
j ever shown in this section,
j both in imported and domestic j|
jj makes. We invite you to visit ill
0 us and look our goods over. 0
j a J
1 I
M >fl
| Balcom & Lloyd. J
112 wiFwiiririrwwfiiririFirwif wwriiFiriri n
JJ LOOK ELSEWHERE BUT DON'T FORGET ||
|| THESE PRICES AND FACTS AT
I | LaBAR'S II S
M -1 » H
m ; M
H We carry in stock | ~ . |
fcg the largest line of Car- ~ \ fcl
Hi pets, Linoleums and |]
E3 Mattings of all kinds * *
E3 ever brought to this v. B[QJXDXO*LI|J*
Pf town. Also a big line »*
H of samples. IMMII N
II A very large line of -FOR THE tUBF Jl
II S3? CONfDRTABIE LODGING U
ti Art Squares and of fine books in a choice library
PJ Rugs of all sizes and select the Ideal pattern of Globe- P*
|j kind, from the cheap- Wernicke "Elastic" Bookcase. H
H es t t 0 tl ie best. Furnished with bevel French ! M
plate or leaded glass doors.
Dining Chairs, I ,0 " •*" °* I
M Rockers and I GEO. J. LaBAR, I **
(k jtf High Chairs. Bole Agent for Cameron County. £jg
£2 A large and elegant L-—* j
El line of Tufted and
Drop-head Couches. Beauties and at bargain prices. £ j
H il
|3O Bedroom Suits, COC |4O Sideboard, quar- tfQA C 2
►' " solid oak at tered cak )0U P"
S2B Bedroom Suits, COI $32 Sideboard, quar- COC
pf| solid oak at 4)ZI tered oak 4)ZO
** $25 Bed room Suits, COfl $22 Sideboard, quar- CIC
solid oak at 4>ZU tered oak, 4)1 0
A large line of Dressers from Chiffoniers of all kinds and M
H $8 up. all prices.
M . : M
fcj , The finest line of Sewing Machines on the market, kg
Jj the "DOMESTIC" and "ELDRIEGE.' All diop- |J
heads and warranted. g
* A fine line of Dishes, common grade and China, in F 2
5 sets and by the piece. * j
M As I keep a full line of everything that goes to $4
£1 make up a good Furniture store, it is useless to enuin- M
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fcjg Please call and see for yourself that lam telling M
|| you the truth, and if you don't buy, there is no harm gg
Cg done, as it is no trouble to show goods. 11
il GEO. J.LaBAR. jj
N TJNDBRTAKLINO. M
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