The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, October 5, 1902, Page 1

&= HE CALL'S mew departnre of publishing the standard fiction L of the day ot a minimum cost “ to its readers marks one of the greatest successes ever known In journalism. The first book to ap- pesr under this new plan was “None But the Brave,” a sterling historical novel; then followed “Lazarre,” and mfter that appenred “Th¥ Mystery Box,” which was just concluded lant Sunday. The popularity of this new scheme is earily understood: it lies in the fact that the reader in af- forded the opportunity of reading = standard movel by the purchase of but twe, or at the most three, insues ©f The Sumdey Call. There is no waiting from week to week [ the case in fiction published serial- I¥: there is mo waiting at the Mbrary until your turn comes around when you shall be enabled 10 take the book bome: there is no expense, as there would be if you went to the bookstore and were obliged to lay down a dollur and & half for one of these books that The Call gives you for ten cents. his week The Sunday Call, be- sides its full quot: of mews matter and the many feature: of its Magna- sine Section, publixhes the first haif of on - of the strongest political and social studies of the day—a mnovel called “The Autoerats,” from the pen of Charles K. Lush. Next § day the secomd half of the book will appear—s. for tem cents you will get the whole story, besides haring received every bit of news and a corresponding value of Sunday fea- ture matter that is published in any mewspaper in the world. “The Autocrats” is = story Slled with the atmosphere of Western en- terprise and emergy, making a dra- matic incident of a combination of politicians and capitalisis to secure a street rallway franchise in a West- ern city. A promiment character in the Look is & powerful and capable man whe is a master hand at the manipulation of city eouncils. But the gnme he is playing for is mot only the coveied charter, but the United States Senate. It is the most lifelike picture in fiction of the mouern trust, the financial promo.er ond the group of men that always surround him—bankers, promoters, newspaper men and hangers-on. A charming love story ruus through whole tale. On October 19 the first installment of “Alice of Old Vincennes” will be published. It will be completed in turee editions. Nothing more need be said to the thoughtful reader. 1901, by Doubleday, Page & Co. the CHAPTER L ACQUAINTANCE STIRS THE DEPTHS. N the evening of the “children's party” st the Lake View Country there drove to the main en- trance, when the newest fad in the way of & social diversion was under wey, & gentleman of some im- portance. This was shown by the agility wi which the bostier moved to catch the reins as they were tossed aside, and by the deferential manner in which the members of & group of gentlemen greeted the new comer. Apparently on equal terms before his arrival, they broke into three segments; two men came to meet him as he Gescended from his cart, ex- claiming, “Good evening, Henry"; & few sdvanced & little and murmured as he passed them, “Good evening, Mr. Bid- well”; the others contented themselves by bowing with that stolid gravity of coun- tenance and genersl &ir of solemnity without which the greeting might be thought an unwarranted presumption. Soclety had cast aside its finery, its laces, and evening dress, and, clothed in the garb of children, the jaded followers of midsummer gayety were giving way to & relaxation that savored of effort; for it involved the playing of & new part Women to whom the small talk of social functions wes second nature were attempting childish prattle and kittenish ways; men who had mastered the art of vacuity were reviving memories of the days when they at least sald things they thought; and each made of the new lib- erty & license for freer speech than is permissible under the laws of the so- cial game. The sppearance of Henry Bidwell on the fioor wes the eignal for a rush toward him, and he was &t once surrounded by & lavghing group. To a fusillade of merry banterings he returned fire, laughing, bo nd sheking hands righ nd left of business stood aloof envied this care-free ma and , who was ever #0 genial, 5o unaffectedly boyish, and so ght-hearted. There, Mr. Bidwell,” cried a young woman ping & tin Bidwell's head and deftly fastening it & rubber band under not going to escape wi s chin, “you nout being one c Remember, I am your C t, and if you are not real E take you home early.” Edith, if T had a pocket full of like a boy again,” vel. “I should really me of marbi en I was a boy.” nce of another late comer p of young people scurry- floor of the ballroom. played almost everything remarked the one woman ed behind. replied Bidwell, favoring I never ch he had met the othérs, hem for keeps.” games and lost few,” oman, eying him keenly. back, Henry?" o reply, but offering his shé took, he escortéd her e door that led out into the seems to me that it is dreadfully here,” he observed. = Bid companion made no 3 ng him with a lan- of her fan. gton was & rich widoy. i aightforward in speaking with certain mannersthat breath of scandal had her. There args some m other men mever infult, and women whom er women t. jMrs. Kate Warrington She was tall, but with ure, and khew she was saw it in her mirror, and of men. Bidwell and she warm nde in the eyes passed out of the baliroom and madc thelr way along the terrace that over- hung the lake. The moon was in 'its full splendor, faint breeze ruffled the besom of the Jake so that it glistened in many colors like a prism, and the scent of wild clover from the golf links was in the gir. Nelther spoke for some moments &% they walked amid this com- bination of nature's beauties. Mrs. War- rington was the first ‘to break the si- lence. ““Why did you come back, Henry?" she asked. ‘““You have not answered the question.” She spoke in the tone of a woman up- braiding a child. “Why, what was to keep me away’ returned Bidwell. “It is strange that a man should return to his home? I have regained my health, and 1 wished to meet old friends again. Especially one added with a meaning glance. “Ncnsense, Henry,” said Mrs. Warri tor. coolly. “You had better go back and tell that to the children. Poor dears, they would believe the moon a gree, cheese if you told them so.” There is scarcely a man, however ex- alted his station, or how astute and for- biGding he may be, but has some person who teils him the truth, speas nkly, erd acts as a sort of animated reflex of his inner conscience. To this one per- sor it is granted to speak plamly con- cerning matters of which others must be silent. These attachments arise from aa instinctive ire to communicate strong hidden emotions to some other being and in return receive counsel, unprejudiced and fearless. It is the confesgional of lay life. Thus it happens that so long a the confessor sg ks with brutal direc ness, laying bare hidden wounds, prob- ing with skill into the secrets of the cther, his tenure is certain. But at the least sign of consideration, the other fceis a vague fear of insincerity, and straight- way the physician loses standing in the eves of his patient. Self-reproach, re- morse, disgust at the thought of the past, and despondency at the prospect of the future, are essential n the mind of the nd upon these che physician plays exquisite p 4, and oftentimes the of the pat_nt. 1l made nc reply to Mrs. War- tington and they continued to walk In silence until they came to a rustic bench which overlooked the lake below, and above which towered a huge elm. “The sure signs of a long talk, Henry.” remarked Mrs. Warrington with a laugh as she sank back on the seat. ot necessarily a long talk, but an earnest one,” returned Bidwell as he seated himself. “You ask why T have come back,” he continued. “There are many answers to tie question. Perhaps it were better to explain why I could not stay away. You krow that I planned to spend two years ebroad, after taking a good rest among the old Vermont hills. Very good; but 1 discovered something .among those old hills. How shall a man get away from himself by taking himself across a large bedy of water? “A man may get away from himself by buliding up a new self,” answered the woman. “With new ideals, higher am- bitions and the casting aside of old ones hie can build a new man within himself. The change of scene is simply an adjunct to the desired end. To rescue the tene- ment child you must first take him from the gutter.” “Ah, it is easy for you, a woman, to theorize,” exc'aimed Bidwell almost sav- agely. “You make no allowance for my obligations to others. Besides, what other life do ] know? For fifteen years, in the strife of business and politics, I have fought my way against the multj- tude on one side and envious companions on the other. Have I not been s“acrss- ful?” “Yes,” promptly responded Mrs War- rington, “‘successful in winning mach for others,. but nothing for yourself. Thiee thces have you been hurled down just as you thought you were about to achieve the.ambition of your life.” “Yes twicé it was by the ‘hand of an ungratefulsPresident and once it was by " sald man bitter said the woman caimly. “Each time it was something above, below and bzck-of them all—the people.” A sneer came from Bidwell, mwocking laugh. “I know you -cannqt see it that way, nry,” continued Mrs. Warrington, “but true, nevertheles:. You are keen to look*beneath the syrface, but you see only the bad in men, not the good. It was the English people that beat Napoleon at Waterloo, not - Wellington. It was' the French people %ho broke and ran, not the army of the great Frenchman. Those who had ceased to be the peopie and who had become simpiy soldiers stood alone to the la-t—the members of the Oid Guard.” “I take up your simile,” cried Bidwell. “Does any one blame Napoleon? Did any one expect him to change when he cume Lick from Elba? Iam the same. The in- stincts ingrafied in me by fifteen years a little of warfare huve taken deep root. [ knuw a cecrtzin way of doing “*ings. [ know hew to play. for grea. stakes, and ycu weuld have me put this ali aside and be. come a plowboy. It is asking too much. “There is an old woman in this city who now In well-to-do circums.ances,” said M Warrington, speaking slowiy in contrast with Bidwell's rapluity of ut- terance. “Her sons and daughiers are vell able to care for her, and she has properiy of her own. But it happens that in her early life, goaded by extreme pov- erty, she went about the streets with a bag, delving into ash boxes, picking up scraps from the alleys. So strong grew the instinct in her that to this day she keeps up the practice. sShe is a_shame to her children; a reproach to those who would be her friends. In what way are you different, Henry Bldwell? Wait; do not answer. You want plain speaking, and you will have it. With a smile al- ways on your face you go about envied by all, but an unauenchable fire burns within your breast. You have absolutely nothing that you want. You throw your- self into strife to fuiget, and to forget you must follow one battle with another. The humblest motorman on_your great railway, a creature so insignificant that you can almost wipe him out of existence by a word or a nod, in his home after his day’s work, has what you have mot had for fifteen years—a clear consclence, the contentment of having done no great wrong—"" “Stop,. Kate. For God's sake, stop!” cried Bidwell, springing to his feet. “You are too harsh. You make no allowances for my obligations. I come back to an- swer a call of duty, and you impute the meanest of motives to me. A matter of gravest import to the company brings me back at: this time.” “My poor friend,” exclaimed the wo- man, as Bidwell, concluding his outburst, threw himself back on the bench. “The company}“And what is the -company? ‘What is it compared’ to the happiness of" one human being, the peace and salvation of one human soul! I wonder sometimes what can be the segret of the: strange power that seems to come from a corpor- ation to make men do and dare, Is tHere a new order of Jesults, sworn to serve Mammon instead of God, bound by a &reat oath, and subseribing to the tenet - that the end does always justify the means? For the older order there was some excuse; it was moved by a& holy in- spiration; it was born of a high motive, and sought to advance what was funda- mentally good. But what of your mod- ern order? It has sprung from a low conception, the union.of greed and cun- ning; it was founded when Jacob dealt with Esau, and it has placed the sign of the dollar-mark above tne cross. Surely, among your patron saints is Isaac of York!"” She had risen during this speech, which was delivered with fire and vehemence, and as she concluded Bidwell gazéd on her with a look of mingled admiration’ and awe. Her eyes flashed, and in the full flood of the moonlight her pale face was flluminated as if with a light that came from within. “Kate!” cried the man, suddenly spring- ing| to his feet and seizing one of her hands. ‘Kate Warrington, if you—" “There, there, remember our agree- mett." interrupted the widow, disengag- ing| her hand and laughing. “It is the moonlight, Henry, so I forgive you. It is a pity you have not read more, or yea would understand. Coppée has touched it off to a nicety in a little story called “Moonlight.’ . I shall send it to you.” dwell by a.great effort mastered his emotion and tried to speak. -But the wo- man, as if to prevent any further recur- rence to a subject on which ‘there was evidently an understanding betweenthem, was the first to find voice. “Henry,” she sald, “do take off that funny little hat which is dangling”down your back. It has kept me on the verge of laughter since we first came out here. Come, we must be going back. There are some conventionalities tnat must be ob- seryed, even if we are children for one evening.” They walked back tg the ballroom in silence, and’were soon amid the careless throng. AN, seven ages of man! How often did this soldier, seeking a bubble, at one age play seven parts! As Mrs. Warrington moved slowly about the ballroom her searching glance showed her to be in quest of some one. She had made half the circuit of the room when a smile came to her face and she turned to one of the bay windows overlooking the drive which formed the north boun- dary of the country club grounds.. Seated within the recess, ane half concealed from the view of the throng that swept by but so. ensconced that they could’see all who passed, were two people, a man and a’ woman, both young. ‘So I have found you at last,” observed Mrs. Warrington. “I might have guessed as much, and come here at once, instead of wasting my time The young man arose smilingly and of- ‘1 SURRENDER, Me5T AUGUST AND TERRIFYING' OF CHAPERONj wr fered her his seat. “I surrender, most august and terrify ‘ing of chaperons,” he said, with mock .gravity: “I yield up my prize and flee.”” “Now, don't be foolish, Hugh, spoke up the young woman, at the same time mov- ing closer to the wall and gathering her skirts about her with the movement that is-a woman's invitation to draw nearer. “There is' room for another, and who cares for a chaperon like Aunty War- rington?”