The evening world. Newspaper, May 22, 1906, Page 12

f f isis ciate ics Sacigectacp eae Evening World's Daily Magazine, Tues day, May 22; 1906; aly Held Up! By Maurice Ketten. The Pudlished by the Preas Publishing Entered at the Post-OMce lomp . 62 to C1 Park Row, New York New York es Second-Clase Mail Maxter. —— VOLUME 4¢ NO. 16,848. THE GAS HOLD-UP. ure having made 80 Legi legal rate for gas In all 1 parts of New for such pur- temporary compel the pay whether th Ac tional. Yet if years, until a Su: to the trust in ex over of di persuasive and the Leg icial decision as to to the be. st await the threshing | of the mass of un- struction. n ‘efusal to pay the he also may Sumers’ League now fi resistance. THE READY REVOLVER. A negro who escaped from a policeman in West Sip Was recaptured at Si markable gantlet of pist A passenger gei two shots at him. One of an automobile party of four stood to: nd popped at him, shooting twice. As the fu ¢ passed the | Hotel Marie Antoinette a man stepped out from a street gro} p and os | two bullets after hi The one person in the cl , 4 le, warrant to shoot, volver. Is New Y a dead letter? Stant murder on provoca There was a noisy ation against revolver rec Commissioner McAdoo cut off hundreds of fF made a point of ; to be bearing arr Is this the net result? | tc get a fusillade? Seventh street and shots, i ; | § off a Broadway car drew a revolver and fired 1 in the up in the eman, alone ref: ing camn? ing camp? Is severest penal: OMMaseEeaaeesianseetsscceenetce ASST WAASAASRSAASSRAONRRatNG ManMnennaueunanonteneeceaneencceneenees asquerader as kt oe luxuries Loder had 11 tl had ad answe: of life, T: mada ny est. The cho books, the quiet harm he lifted and look 1904, by Harper & Brozhers.) CHAPTER VIII. L man of you IT have ing at my friends? ‘ows Went up, but he|a d “Thanks, | silen think Heat apologet Biperey ang Ua fire, and, r + nef ofa i 0 he took h 1 and of tex sable Mh fn, cutting 6 sald oga gstentation ed him. The are ion 4 Well fe sald, shortly had Fraide to! ke aston cates j dread of discov. J she said.| ay?” Ho walked to the mantel-plece with his! precl: 4 mene es heihad cit Meta cain “Mr. Fraide sent you a mes UE | customary movement and stood watching her, ith well maninlated tallest thersioras samen Inthe eT A) Unconsclously Loder smiled. There was humor] The instinct toward hiding his faco had left him. ie Prope: he desk fitted| him tn: ely more uncomfortable A look, ho in the thought of a message to him from the | Bar instant and uninterested acceptance of him great Fraide, To hide his amusement he wheeled| almost nettled htm; his own half-contemptuour Na | : ySAAAEANANORNTRE SS TAAAAAACERL (LOREGLALEREEAAAS UTA T OR EGEG AGA TNGANOAN5800080006 CAGPIME Says the HIGH BROW. By Martin Green. “H AVE you read Commiss!oner McAdoo’s book?” asked the Low B fl | “Not yet and not soon,” replied the High Brow. “What’ use? He crabs his Hterary eruption from the first rush by re F that Police Headquarters {s a sepulchre of reputation, a tomb of chart | and a morgue of political reputation. People are likely to think that voice of McAdoo {s a voice from the grave. “For some reason or other a man begins to feel of himself and won at his own bigness when he gets to be a Police Commissioner of New Yo Inside of a month ho is taking the public into his confidence and tell! them how hard and thankless a task has been clamped to his unwilll | shoulders. It must bo clamped, for none of them ever discards {t vol | tarlly unless it 1s to take another and better position at the side of the pu! Me trough. ‘ “There {s too much orchestral accompaniment to the job of running Police Department, too much play of the spot light on the Commish. {magines himself the star of the administrative cast and pants violen | like a matineo {dol if a rash critic happens to insinuate that he is suffer! | trom decreased batting average. “The next symptom {s the banquet habit. As soon as a Police Commit sioner gets the banquet habit and loads his troubles onto an aggreg@ of men already well ballasted with food and wine, well informed peop) get out the old fortune-telling deck and begin to compute the date of finish. “The Mulberry Street Commish {s a continuous performance {n show! how a man can bear up under unbearable conditlons. He proclaims {n Joud voice that he didn’t seek the job and the Mayor can have it any time wants {t Then when the Mayor sends him a blue envelope and instruc the Comptroller to take his name off the payroll he staggers around like prize-fighter whose opponent has unexpectedly hit him on the chin with | freight car, It must be an awful experience to say to your boss, ‘I dare ve me the run!’ and have him think you mean it.” “It's a hard place at that,” maintained the Low Brow. “Any man’s place,” replied the High Brow, “is as hard as he makes A CHUG-CHUG LYRIC. We Speeder got his motor eraze, He bought a touring our, Equipped for tripe around the town, Or journeyings afar; And in the rear some baskets hung— They looked to thone of us Who sew his auto whiz along | ‘The downtown hishways—thus. = | Bat Speeder learned a thing or two Before @ month went by, | And@ when we see those baskets now i We wink a knowing eye. | Along the road to New Rochelle We oft have esan him go; His nice red auto, from the rear, Appears to us just so: Reena: @cill pilus ression of Chileote came to him unpleasantly,| In his brain. 1 with tt the first desire to assert his own In-] “Yes,” she answered. ‘TI always want to > ality. Stung by the conflicting emotions. what I can.” \ t in Chilcote’s pocket for something to AS she spoke a sudden realization of the effor{ she Was making struck upon him, and with ft scorn of Chilcote rose in renewed force. saw and Interpreted the action. ‘Are these your cigarettes?” She leaned toward a small table| ‘My intention"—he began, turning to her, The: and took up a box made of lizard skin. (the futility of any declaration silenced him. “Thanks.” He took the box from her, and as !t, shall think over what you say,” he added, f passed from one to the other he saw her glance|a minute's walt. “I suppose I can't say more thar at his rings. The glance was momentary; her| that.” 1 lps parted to express question or surprise, then! Their eyes met and she smiled a lttle. closed again without comment. More than any| “I don’t believe I expected as much,” she safd, spoken words, the incident showed him the gulf/ “I think I'll go now. You have been wonderi that separated husband wife patient.” Again she smiled slightly, at the sam "he sald again, “what about Fraide?" | time extending her hand. Tho gesture wak qi words she sat straighter and looked at) friendly, but in Loder’s eyes {t held relief as wel ore directly, as if bracing herself to a task.| a8 friendliness; and when thelr hands met he . Fralde !s—{s as {Interested as ever !n you,” noticed that her fingers barely brushed hia. began. | He picked up her cloak and carried it in you?" Loder made the Interruption the room. As he held the door open, he laid tt precisely as he felt Chilcote would have made !t. quietly across her arm. Then instantly he wished the words back. “I'll think over what you've sald,” he repeated." ve's warm skin colored more decply; for a| Again she glanced at him as if suspecting san nd the inscrutable underlying expression that | casm; then, partly reassured, she paused, “You d him showed in her eyes, then she sank] will always despise your opportunities, and corner of the chair. | suppose I shall always envy them,” ahe sald, Why do you make such a point of sneering at| “That's the way with men and women. Good my friends?" she asked quietly. “I overlook {t night!” With another faint smile Abe passed when you are—nervous.” She halted slightly on| out Into the corridor, the word. “But you are not nervous to-night.” Loder waited until he heard the outer door| Loder, to his great humiliation, reddened. Ex-| close, then he crossed the room thoughtfully and cept for an occasional outburst on the part of| dropped Into the chair that she had vacated. He Mrs. Robins, his charwoman, he had not merited] sat for a time looking at the hand her fingers a woman's displeasure for years, had touched; then he lifted his head with a» “The sneer was unintentional,” he sald. characte: movement. : For the first time Eve showed a personal tnter- “By Jove!" he sald, aloud, “how cordially she est. She looked at him in a puzzled way. ‘“If| detests him!" your apology was meant,” she said, hesitatingly, “1 should be glad to accept It.” Loder, uncertain of how to take the words, n ¢ to the desk, He carried an unlighted | CHAPTER IX, ODER slept soundly and dreamlessly in Chil- cote's canopled bed. To him the big room e hetwveen his fingers with its sever z i : het fl 3 | . ere magnificence suggested noth- was an interval tn which neither spoke.| ing of the gloom and solitude that {t held In its &t last, conscious of {ts awkwardness, Eve} owne The ponderous furniture, the high 1 one hand on the back of her chair,/ cojiing, the heavy curtains, wnch nged since the 8 of Chilcote stopped to choose her words—"that you should) {lose hold on things—lose interest In things, as | ve doing. He has been thinking a good deal | you in the last three weeks—ever since the} f your—your illness in the House; and it to him''—again she broke off, watching rs averted head—"{!t seems to him that if de one real effort now, even now, to shake off y restlessness, that your—your health) might Improve. He thinks that the present crisis would be’—she hesitated—‘would give you a tr mendous opportunity, Your trade interests, | bound up as they are with Persia, would give any opinion you migbt hold a double weight.” | Almost unconsciously a touch of warmth crept into her words. “Mr. Fratde talked very seriously about the Noginning of your career. He said that if only the spirit of your first days could come back'-—— Her tone grew quicker, as though she feared ridi- cule tn Loder’s silence, “He asked mo to use my {nfluence. I know that I have little—-nono, per- haps—but I couldn’t tell him that, and so—so I promised.” “And have kept the promise?” Loder spoke at random, Her manner and her words had both affected him. There was a sensation of unreality grandfather, all hinted at a far- reaching ownership that stirred him. The owner- iip was mythical in his regard, and the pose sssions a mirage, but they filled the day. And, ely, sufflelent for the oe it was his frame of mind as he opened hie on the following morning, and lay, appre- clative of his comfort, of the surrounding space, even of the light that filtered through the curtain chinks, suggestive of a world recreated, With day, all things seem possible to a healthy man. He stretched his arms luxuriously, delighting In the glossy smoothness of the sheets, What was It Chilcote had said? Better lve for a day than exist for a lifetime! That was true: and life had begun. At thirty-six he was to know {t for the first time. He smiled, but without frony, Man ts at his Dest at thirty-six, he mused, He has retained hig enthusiasms and shed his exuberances; he has learned what to pick up and what to pass by; he no longer {magines that to dratn a cup one must taste the dregs. Hoe closed his eyes and stretohed again, not his arms only, but his whole body, pleasure of his mental state insisted on a physi expression. Then, sitting up in bed, he Dressed the olectrio bell. ‘Chilvote's new valet respontied. i (To Be Continued.) | 61