The evening world. Newspaper, April 11, 1914, Page 9

(Copyright, 1918, by Bebbe-Meril Oo.) “Pexoras Ov PRECROING CRAFTER, Me teri low s . nas Doe iste te Joa for vx SE et itn! eg Migs Foe ee » CHAPTER XIX. Sentara) Two Letters. ran back to the room. She gave a little gasp when ‘he saw what it that ‘Martha was holding out for her inspection. It was War- a letter of credit. She had to- ‘forgotten Its existence. Across fare of the thick Mantia envelope or less covered with numerals that had been scribbled there by War- in an attempt to compute the at 6 per cent) which con- ‘eeieed the letters of credit’ and !den- was written in a clerical the owners name, Martha pot help eceing it. Elsa pa frankly what it wae and how press apa they‘ might have entered “oom; and your jewels lying vebout ere! How could you be “éd careless?” “But they didn't. I'll return this to ‘Mr, Warrington in the morning; per- haps to-night, if I see him at dinner.” “He was in the next room, and we mover knew iti” The final hook enapped into place, “Well, Wednes- ‘day our boat leaves;” as if this put @ period to all further discussion anent Parrot & Co. Nothing very se- rious could happen between that time and now, {'Werinesday night.” Elsa began to s@ing again, but not #0 joyously. The Petty things of every-day life were ‘lifting their heads once more, and of nécessity sho must recognize them. Stic sat at the Consul-Generala table, informally. There was in- consequential chattcr, an exchange of recollections and comparisons of cities né countri they had visited at separate times; but neither she nor ff’ mentioned the chief subject of their thoughts. She refrained because “et w atrango yet natural shyness of @ ‘woman who has found her: and he, because from his angle of vision {t was best that Warrington should out of her life as suddenly and yateriously as he had entered it. ‘Had he spoken frankly he would have gaved Elsa many a bitter heartache, Howe. hae War: absent, and mere his enemies. If there was any treth in reincarnation, Elsa was con- . ost that in the splendid days of pe she had beaten her pink palms 4@.applauge of the gladiators. Pagan; ‘Was all of that; for she knew that ould have looked upon Mallow's fase with more than ordinary inter- ‘eat. ‘Never more would her cheeks “pairti’at the recollection of the man’s DT ee She was twenty-five; eho had walted longer than most women; the mistake of baste would never be hery. --Nor did she close ‘her eyes to 4h future. Bhe knew exactly what he world was, and bow it would act, was not one of those women, balanced, who must have ex- it in order to exist; she de- pended upon herself for her amus With the man she loved she ‘qWeld have shared a hut in the wil- gan and heen happy. »)rOpe of the things that had drawn Der t Arthur had been bis quiet love GK the open, bis interest in flowers ‘forests and streams. Society, @ivision of classes, she had but to it she had never bowed well she could do How fee and it! She would go with bim aelp him bulld his bridges, hel; to fight torrents and hurricanes, to forget. That he had bidden i) was nothing. She would wher ewmak bim. In her pursuit of happi- e she was not to permit aloe modesty to ‘e* Ig her room, betters, The one to Arthur covered ‘eoreral pages; the other consisted of e' line, She went down to the fal mailed Arthur's letter and left Rote, in Warrington's key-box, It was not an intentionally cruel let- or had written to the man in but if she had atriven t that effect she could not ba’ ed it more successfully. « eried out against the way freated his brother, the fal re that had hidden all knowledge ° m her. Where were the Py ty and mercy of which he had often preached? Pages of burn- Teproaches which seared the eoul the man who read them. She did confide the state of her heart, y was not necessary, The arraign- t of the one and the defense of the other were sufficiently illuminat- % hi leep. Sh a tf ihe removed of Warrin oat PARROT & CO. , bout drew for her the picture of the 0 the tats: spend ee on board; that, hav. ing paid hte bill early in the event: her note might have lain in the box until the crack of goom, #0 ae ho was likely to know of ite ex- No angel of pity whispered to her, Awake! No dream-magic tell man she loved, pecins, up and down the cram; deck of satel te wank fighting a battle com to which oke in the ‘morning she ran to the mirror; all thie fresb beauty she was going to give to him, Mae! bee ecmaag Pr eeeeae anit jon, absolutely; as Aspasia might have rendered her charms to Perl- Yat) makes a the’ hapsient ‘a ea us the when she is about to crush us. bad ber breakfast cies. 8 lowly. She was excited; she brimmed with exuberance; she wanted Romance to ba "Goo t once. morning,” she greeted the general, who was breakfasting Weil, you're an early bird!” he lied. “Elsa, ane beautiful. lonestly 7” with real eagerness. lonestly. And how you have gon these years without a. all grand duke, is something I can't fg- 9 ure out.” “Porbaps I have been waiting for man. There was no real hurry.” “Lucky chap, when you find bi 8 be way, our romantic Parrot & Lo. “Got at him. es.” 8 no at dawn.” ‘Saigon,” . ‘And I am rather glad to eee him go. I was afraid he ht interest you too mych.. You'll y it, but you'll never outgrow the ry age.” : : “Bi matt “No,” hot. Dont lant night thap hp ‘ve he “I shall never forgive you” “Why, Elsa * © 0 “Never, never! You knew and did ot tell me. Do you know who Paul llison is? He is the brother of thi man at home, You knew he was stealing away and did not tell me.” She could not have made the truth any plainer to him. He sat back in chair, stunned, voiceless, “Lam going to my room,” she said. "Do not follow. lease ect es if noth! had Bertone. He eaw her walk bravely the length of the What a misfortune! out of the question. ‘was not child, to be reaaoned with. She was a wo id she had come to « womal To pl of the case, the heartless banishment from the world she knew, the regret which would be hers later, no matter how much ehe loved theman ° © © He pushed back his chair, leaving hia coffee untasted. He posseased the deep understand. ing of the kindly heart, and his one thought waa Elsa's future happiness. Aan men go, Warrington was an hon- orable man; honorabfe enough to run away rather than risk the danger of staying where Elsa was. He was no longer an outlaw; he could go and come as he would, But there was that misstep, not printed in shifting sand but upon the granite of recol- lection, Single, he could go back to his world and pick up the threads again, but not with a wife at his side. Oh, ves; they would be happy at Then Elsa would begin to things she had so gloriously thrown away. The rift in the lute; the canker in the rose. They were equally well-horn, well-bred; polite- ness would usurp affection’s hold. Could he save her from the day when she would learn Romance had come from within? No. All he could do wan to help her find the man. He sent five cablegrams to to the consulate, to the princi; tels; the most dificult composition he had ever attacked. But because he had forgotten to send tho sixth to meet the’ packet pont, against th possibility ‘of Warrington changing his mind and not, landing, bis labor was thrown to the win Meantime Elsa stopped ‘at the of- fice desk, “I-left a pte for Mr, War- rington who has gonéto Saigon, I see it in his Key box, Will you please return it to me?” ‘The clerk did not healtate an in- stant. He gravely returned the note to her, marvelling at her paleness, isa crushed the note in her hand and moved toward the stairs, wondering if she could reach her room before she broke down utterly. He had gone. He had gone without knowing thi he wanted in life wae his for the tal ing, In her room she opened the note and through blurred vision read what sho‘had so hfppily inscribed the night before. “Paul—I love you. Oome to me. Bisa.” She had written it, unashamed, Bhe flung herself upon the bed, and there Martha found her, “Bisa, child, what is it? Martha cried, kneeling beside the bed, “Child, what has happened?” Elsa sat up, seized Martha by the shoulders and etared into the faith- ful eyes, “Do you want to know?” “Elsa!” Ww nd he loves me, But he has gone, Can't you see? Don't you und stand? Have you been a@ blind 1? He is Paul Ellison, Arthui brother, his twin brother, And thi obliterated him, It is Arthur who is the ghost, Martha, the phantom. Ah, I have caused you a good deal of worry, and I am going to cause you yet more, I am going to Saigon; up and down the world, east and west, until I find him, Shall I go alone, or will you go with me ‘Then Martha did what ever after endeared her to the heart of the stricken girl: @he mothered her, “isa, my baby! Of course I shall go with you, always. ‘For you could not love any man if he was not worthy.” Then followed the strangest quest doubtless ever made by a woman, From Singapore to Saigon, up to Bangkok, down to Singapore again; to Batavia, Hongkong, Shan: hal, Peki R . again, then ¥ ‘atent opeful, Ing trail, her many puzsied for it was not usual for @ beautiful young woman to go about the world, inquiring for a blond man with a parrot. Sometimes she was only a day late, Many cablegrams she sent, but upon her arrival in each port she gaa that these had not been called for. Over these heart-breaking disap- pointmente she uttered no complaint. The world and wide; be it @ome day In the daytime there was the quest, but, ah! the nights, the interminable hours of inaction, the spaces of time in which ehe could only Iie back and think. Up and down the coasts, across ielands, over eeas, the journey took her, until one in July she found self upon the pillared veranda of the house in which her mother had been horn. CHAPTER XX. The Two Brothers. all, moody, restless and ir- J ritable, Warrington wended F ROM port to port, sometimes his way home. There was not stopping the boat at nothing surprising in the fact that An Exiled New Yorker's Strange Adventures he Other Side of 4 e Earth ¥? On-t “Very " replied Warrington, paying and ing the man, From a reliquary of the Dutch, an affair of red brick, four stories high, this monolith bad sprun, With a sigh Warrington entered the cavern- ous doorway and stepped into an “express élevator.” When the car arrived at the twenty-second story Warrington was alone. He paused before the door of the vice-president. He recalled the “old man,” thin- lipped, blue-eyed, eruptive. It was all very strange, this request to make the restitution in person. Well be would soon learn why. He drew the certified check from his wallet and scrutinized it care- fully. ‘Twelve thousand, eight hun- dred dollars. He re the door, and walk Card? Warrington had not p sessed such a thing in years, “I hi no cards with me. But I have appointment with Mr. Elmore. Tell him that Mr. Elison is bere.” The boy returned promptly and sig- nified that Mr. Elmore was at liberty. But it was not the “old man” who looked up from a busy man’s desk. he never inquired for mail. Who Jt was the son; so far, the one fa- was. thereto write? Besides, he miller face Warrington Kad see ince sought only the obscure hotels, where he was not likely to meet any of bis erstwhile fellow passengers. The mockery and uselessnes of his home-going became more and more apparent as the days slipped by. Often he longed to fly back to the jungles, to James, and leave matters they were. Here and there, along the way, he had tried a bit of luxury; but the years of economy and fru- gality had robbed bim of the ability to enjoy it. He was going home * © © to what? Surely there would be no wel- come for hith at his journey's end. He would return after the manner of prodigals in general, not scriptural, to find that he was not wanted. Of his own free will he had gone out of their lives, . He fought grimly against the thought of Elsa; but he was not strong enough to vanquish the long- ings from his heart and mind. Al- ways when alone she was in fancy with him, now smiling amusedly into his face, now peering down at the phosphorescence seething alongside, now standing with her chin uplifted, her eyes half shut, letting the strong winds strike full in her face. Many a “good night” he sent over the seas. 4 An incident; that would be all, His first day in New York left him with nothing more than a feeling of foreboding and oppression. The ex- pected exhilaration of returning to the city of bis birth did not ma- terlalize. So used to open spaces was he, to distances and the circle of horizons, that he knew he no longer belonged to the city with its Hima- layan gorge and canyons, whose tor- rents were human beinRs and whose glaciers were the hearts of these. A great loneliness bore down on him, For months he had been draw- ing familiar pictures, and to find none of these was like coming home to an empty house. The old life waa indeed gone; there were no threada to resume. A hotel stood where his club had been; the house in which he had spent his youth was no more, He wanted to leave the city; and the desire waa with difficulty overcome. Early the second morning he start- ed downtown to the offises of the Andes Construction Company. He was extraordinarily nervous, Cold sweat continually moistened his palms, Change, change, everywhere change; Trinity was like an old friend, When the taxicab driver threw off the power and indicated with @ Jerk of his head & granite ghaft™that soared up into the blue, Warrington asked: “What place is this?” “The Andes Building, sir, The con- atrustion company oscupies the top warned ber that be intended to hotel managers and booking ageats, four." di there was nothing In evidence ither side to invite it. h! Sit down, Paul. Let no one urb me for an hour,” the young president advised the boy. “And close the door as you go out.’ Warrington sat down; the bridge- builder whirled his chair around and stared at his visitor, not insolently, but with kindly curiosity. “You've filled out,” waa all he said. After fully fying his eyes, he ded: “I dare say you expected to ther, He's been gone six indicating one of the two por- looked longest, “Who ts the he asked. “What? You worked four years with this company and don't recollect portrait?” ‘rankly, I never noticed It before.” Warrington placed the certified check on the desk. “With interest,” he said, The vice-president crackled it, ran his fingers over his smooth chin, fold- ed the check and extended it toward the astonished wanderer, “We don't want that, Paul. What we wanted was to get you back. There was no other way, Your brother made up the loss the day after you * went away. There was no acarial, Only a few of us in the office knew. Never got to the newspapers.” It was impossible for Warrington to digest this astounding information at once, His mind could only repent the phrases; “no scandal, only a few of us in the office knew, never got to the newspapers.” For ten yenrs he had hidden himself in wilderne a, avoided hotels, read no Anferican newspapers, never called for mail, Oh, monumental fool! “And I could have come home al- most at once!” he e#aid aloud, ad- dressing the crumpled check in his hand rather than the man fn the swivel chair, “Yes, [have often wondered where you were, what you were doing. You and your brother were upper class- men, I never knew Arthur very well; but you and I were chummy, after a fashion, Arthur was a little too book- ish for my style. Didn't we use to call you Old Galahad? You were always walloping the bullies and tak- Ing the weaker chaps under your wing. To me, you were the last man in the World for this business, “Moreover, I never could under. stand, nor could father, how you got it, for you were not an office man, ‘Women and cards, | suppose. Father said that you had the making of a great engineer, Fierce place, thia old town,” ing his hand toward the myriad sparkling roofs and towers and aepires, “Havo to be strong and hard-headed to survive it. Bullt anything since you've been way?" In Cashmir.” thrown away a decade! ad you kept your hand in, T dare say you've seen a lot of life.” To the younger man it was an ex- tremely awkward interview, “Yeu; I've seen life,” dully, “Orient, mostly, I suppose, letter about the strike In ofl was mighty interesting. Heap of money over there, if they'd only let us smart chaps in to dig tt up. Now, old man, I want you to wipe the alate clear of these ten years. We'll call it a bad dream, hat are your plang for the future?’ “! ‘Warrington lcoked up ' To have Understand, Paul, there's no phila’ thropic atring to thia offer, Your blankly. He realized that be had made no plans for the future, Yes. ,What do yoy intend to do? A man Iike you wasn’t made for idle- ness, Look here, Paul; I'm not go- ing to beat about the bush, We've got a whopping big contract from the Chinese government, and we need a mi arge, @ man who knows and understands some- thing of the yellow people. How about a salary of ten thousand a year for two years, to begin in Oc- tober?” Warrington twisted the check. Work, rehabilitation, “Could you trust mc?” he asked quietly, “With anything-I have in the world. You've ulled through a devil of a hole, ‘ou're @ man. I should not be hold- ing down this chair if I couldn't tell &@ man at @ glance. We were together two months in Peru. I'm familiar with your work. Do you want to know whose portrait that ts up there? ‘Well, it's Gen. Chetwood's, the found- er of this concern, the silent part- ner. The man who knew kings and potentates and told ‘em that they needed bridges in their backyards. This building belongs to his daugh- te ‘Bhe converted her stock into gran- ite, About a month ago I received a letter from It directly concerned you, It seems she learned through the consul-general Singapore that you had worked with us, She's like her father, a mighty keen judme of hu- man nature, Frankly, this offer comes through her advice. ‘To ratisty your- self you can give us a surety-bond for fifty thousand. It’s not obligatory, however.” Elsa Chetwood. She had her fath- er's oyes, and it was this which had drawn his gaze to the portrait. Chet- wood; and Arthur had not known any more than he had. What Lag ‘Ten years wasted * © for noth- ing! Warrington laughed aloud. A weakness sefzed him, like that of a hungry. aul,” warned the good Samaritan. I -this. kind of knocks the wind, ouf of you, I know. But what I've offered you ts In good faith. Will you take it?” “Yes,” almply. “That's the way to talk Buppos- Ing you go out to lunch with me? ‘We'll talk It over tke old times.” “No. I n't seen® * © 9 “To be sure! Do you forgot. ve, your mother know where they It Cepebegde A “No. T expected to ask you.” resident scribbled down find them both there, though Arthur, I under- wtand, is almost as great a traveller as you are. want to nee them, you poor Southwostern will pull you to the door. After the reunion, you hike back here, and we'll get down to the meat of the business.” “John,” said Warrington buskily, “you're a man.” “Oh, piffie! It's not all John. ‘The old man left word that if you ever turned up again to hang on to you. You were valuable. And there's Miss Chetwood. If you want to thank any- body, thank her.” Warrington missed the searching glance, which was not without its touch of envy. “You'd better be off, Hustle back as soon as you can.” Elmore offered his hand now. “Gad! but you haven't lost any of your old grip. * “lm a bit dazed, ‘The last alx months have loosened up my nerves.” Nobody's made of tron.” "dé sound hollow if I tried to say what I feel. I'll be back a week rom. to-da: “I'l look for you.” An the door closed behind Ww. rington the young miliional uown, scowling nt a cubbyhole desk, He presently took out a I postmarked Yokohama about in his hands, muslr out reading It (for he knew ita con- tents well!) he thrust it back Into the cubbyhole. Women were out of his sphere, He could build a bridge within a dollar of the b but he knew nothing about women beyond the fact that they wero always de- sirable, A few monosyliables, a sentence or two, and then, good day, The avor- age man would have recounted every incident of note d those ten years, He did not admire Warring ton any the less for his retic . It took a strong man to hold himself together under all these blows from the big end of fortunes horn. He had known the two brot! college, and to Paul he bad froshinan’s worship. On the f had been the idol, and pop only for his feats of str th, hut for hia lovableness, He recalled the nf- fection between the two boys Arthur admired Paul for his strength, Paul admired and gloried in his brother's learning. Never would he forget that commencement day, when the two boya in thelr mortar-boards, their beautiful mother between them, arm in arm, walked acros Uh on of the campus. It was an unforgettable ple- ture, Paul waa a born engineer; Arthur had entered the office as am Paul had taken eight thous: day and mped, Arthur n and disappeare understand haps some Funny old Paul was a mun, Was the sort neede bridge building, Ie re top of his desk and left He was in no mood for work The evening of the third day found Warrington In the baggage cur, fe ing @ dilapidated feather-molt bird, who was in a m nda temper, Rujah scattered the scods about, spurned the banana tty, tilted the water eup and swastbuckied kenerally. Hy and by, above the clack-clack of wheels and ra a crooning song. ‘Tho bage 1 up from his 4, came wity-b ree time with hi lullaby James used to sing. It never failed to quiot, the little parrot. War- rington* Went bagk to his Pullman, where the porter greoted him with the information. that the. next stop would be his. Teo minutes later he we o6INS stepped from the train, a amall kit- bag in one hand and the parrot-cage in the other, He had como prepared for mistake on the part of the natives, gio smart cabman lifted his hat jumped down from the box an opened the door. Warrington en- tered without speaking. ‘The doo closed and the coupe rolled aw briskly. He was perfectly sure of his destin The cabman had mistaken him for Arthur, It would bo better so, There would be no after complications when he departed on the morrow. As the coupe took @ turn he lookea out of the window. driveway, lined on each aide of which were chestnu' Indeed, the house was in the centre of a grove of these splendid trees, The coupe stopped, “Wait,” @ald Warrington, allght- “Yea, air.” Warrington went up the broad ver- anda steps and pulled the old-fash- joned _bell-cord, He waa rather amazed at bis utter lack of agitation. He was as calm aa if he were mak- ing @ call upon a casual acquaintance, Hie mother and brother, whom he had not seen in ten years! The great oak-door drew in, and he entered un- ceremoniously. Why, Marao A'thuh, I di'n’t see yo’ stretched out go out!” exclaimed the old negro Which door?” against the banister and caught dee- Warrington opened the door, closed Toom sat a man, busy with books. He Nh iad leaned with his hands tense upon the CHAPTER XXi. penny; Old Galahad, tn white over it, Arthur. It tan’t worth hair is a little paler at the temples. that astonished Warrington’s own he waa sober enough. the chair, stauked the books and laid follow with fascinated gaze hin while. I can see by your eyes that happen. I am going to talk to you; that you have seen only a ghost. Sit in a kind of collapse he sat down, across his shoulders, Warrington Ho saw only his brother, the boy he Why blame Arthur? He, Paul, was sald, ° ‘Ab, great God, Paul!” servant. “Tam not Arthur; Tam bis brother eyed, the old negro pointed to wnthe hall, Then he leaned perately at the spindles. For the voles was not Arthur's. it gently and stood with hia back to it. At a desk in the middle of the raised his head. “Arthur, don't you know me?” The chatr overturned; some books thudded dully upon the rug. Arthur desk. Paul sustained the look, his eyen oad and his face pale and grave. He That Was Dead. fc mS, it fe I, the unlucky 6a | flesh and blood end bone. I shouldn't get while, I can seo that you haven't changed much, unless it ts that your Gray? I'll wager I've a fow myself.” There was a filppancy in his tone ears, for certainly this light mockery did not come from within, At heart To steady the thundering of hia pulse he cronsed the room, righted them on¥the desk. Arthur did not move save to turn his head and to brothers movements, “Now, Arthur, I've only a little you are conjuring up all sorts of ter- rible things. But nothing is going to then I'm going away, and to-morrow it will be easy to convince yourself down, I'll take this chatr at the left.” Arthur's hands slid from the desk; Suddenly he laid his head upon his arms, and a great sigh sent {ts tremor felt his heart swell, The past faded away; bis wrongs became vapors. had loved #o devotadly, Arty, his other self, his scholarly other self, the fool. “Don't take {ft Ike that, Arty,” be ‘The other's hand blindly toward the voice. “[ know! Perahps T've brooded too much.” Warrington crushed the hand in his two strong ones. “The main fault was mine, 1 couldn't see the length of my nose, I threw a tempta- tion in your way which none but a deini-god could have resisted ‘That night, when 1 got your note telling me what you had done, I did a dam- nably foolish thing. I went to the club bar and drank heavily. I wa wild to help you, but I coulda’t see how. “At 2 in the morning I thought I saw the way, Drunken men get strange ideas Into‘thelr heads, You were the apple of the mother's eyes; y her son, No use deny’ tolera le what I absolut t train W rat you'd up Tt all de You lot m w me go. Arty, ol boy. I suppose you were pretty well knocket whon you learned what I had done, And thon you let things drift. It was only natural 1 had opened the way for you Mot earning that I was a thief, restored the defalvation to save the family honor, which was your future, We were always more or leas hard pressed for funda, L did not gan but T wasted a lot, Tho mot y gave us an allowance of five thousand each. To this | managed to add another five and you another four ou were always borrowing from me. 1 never quostioned what 1 did with it, T would to God T had! It would havo saved us a lot of trouble.” ‘The hand in hia relaxed and slipped from the clasp. “Some of these things will sound bitter, but” the beart bebind them They were entering a ! 1, and + NC WO By Harold. MacGrath™ Oe Author of “THE MAN ON THE BOX ate, ite. my deed from another angle. Think of It! We could have given our joint note to mother’s bank for the amount, Old Henderson would have discounted it in @ second, “It was too late. I went om. The few hundrede I had gave out. been up against it pretty bard. were times when [ envied dog, But fortuné came around ose day, knocked, and I let her turned to make a@ restitution, Jearn that it had been made long ago. A trick of young Eli ouldn’t have come back if I have sent the money.” Arthur raised his head and sat up. “Ah, why did you not write? Why did you not let me know where you is my hd prone) if there te uw f Yor two years I bad aman 7oU He gave up. i F E, 5B In that Iwas a black vil What a hell [ lived in * mother!" Arthur dropped ‘bis. ral 1 was in a sense.” “You have suffered, but not as I have. Always you bad before you our great, #plendid, foolish sacrifice. had nothing to buoy me up; there waa only the drag of the recollection of an evil deed, and a moment of pitiful weakness. The temptation was too great, Padi.’ ‘How did it happen?” ‘How does anything Itke that hap- pen? Curlogity drew me first, for, at college I never played but a tow gamen of brid, Curlosity, desire, then tho full blaze of the passion, You will never know what that is, Pau It is atronger than love, or faith, or honor, God knows I never thought myself weak; at school f was the least Impotuous of th two, Kiverything went, and they cheated ne from the atart, Roulette and faro. t I put my hand in the safe. To this doy Tf cannot teli why. I owed nothing }to those deupicable thieves, Cratg ledat of all,” ‘Craig. I met him over the melied him. ‘ T didn’t act ike «a map, ;'Some day a comfortable fortune would fall to the lot of each of us,» But J took eight thoumand, lost “it, and" cathe whining to you. You dowt belong to this petty age, Paul. You ought to have been a fellow of the Round Table.” Arthur smiled wanly, “To throw y life away like that for a broth who wasn't fit to lace your shoes, If you bad written you ‘would have learned that everything was smoothed over. ‘The Andes peo- ple dropped the matter ontirely. You joved the mother better than L ‘And she must never kno quietly. ‘Do you moan that?” I alwi mean everything I say, ors Can't you see the uselessness of telling her now? She has gone all those years with the belief that I am a thief. A thief, Arty; I, who never stole anything save a farmers They would have called you a default that's because you access to the safe, whereas I had none.” Arthur winced, “I don't pro- pore to disillusion the mother. I am strong enough to go away without seeing ber; and God knows my heart and my ears and eyes and upon bis arms raul, ny sont waa Warrington’s chair that top pe Sei tg in ine, bortieres mother, 2 Piha aati adele Pa to get 1 am » I had hoped aw it ” npr your knowing”. ~ “Oh, because wei wasn't ang ‘all. Pe of my coming al out have sthgea of your life, and I éhould Rot every. ee out. Don't w thing mapped “Mother, I I was the orry tye out at midnight” Arthur stood up. ry . man, ene years I've let you believe ba tah had taken the Toney" yea!" he interrupted, never poking ek yen off thin other son. rard @ curtains, Puth- old matters? Of Into: this house?” at her, ng, confusion did not look He could not tell her that Pe a4 7 Loge him veetvad, himself. ne Be Nad Gen fon, I have been @ “Paul, m: wicked woman: you mustn't talk sonF my ' atlent, “Why, mo’ Ike that!” boy, will you for. “Wicked! My Beale, chivairio your mother? mother?” Your unnatural ston reached mechanically for the portrait in the ailver frame, but Arthur stayed bis hand, “No, Paul; that ts mine,” Warrington dropped bis band, pus- I was not going to destroy * tronically, 'No; but in @ sense you have de- stroyed me, Compensation. What trifling thoughts most of us give t word! The law of compensation, Fo: ten years Elsa has been the flower o' the corn for me. She almost loved me me. And one day she @een you; and “Always to come back! . . . ¥ in that one day all that I had gained &M gotng to China in a little while, was lost, and all that you had lost t© take up the work I have atways was gained, The law of compensa. loved, the building of bridges.” in. ometim cape retribu- ‘And T am going, too!” It was Eiea, n, but never of compensa- St her journe: nd. n, Some montim ago she wro Jextous love is keen of eye. “You must Paul, never leave us again, Promiae.” egatnst her Ab, your peor blind ‘There me a letter, Sho was always direct, Wa# death tn Arthur's It was a just letter, smiled at her. After what's i A pause, Arthur gazed ateadityat More logical than thdt she shoud appear at this moment? the cup when it might ay @t once, over with and done with? “Elen!” aid t mother, holding Warrington’s hand in closer ad yen “Yes, mother, Ab, not tell meanee At 987 Arthur walked to ere for a mom pamed from ‘the rooms, oe oa “Go to him, moth oaid Mea, wisely, and with pity, by he ‘mother hesitated, the tear here the portrait, while Warrington ed his yellow beard, he ways of mothers are mys- “said the Intter final happy. Money. There's the wedev. It's In every life somewhere, A mar- riage of conventence {4 an unwise thing. When we wero born the mother turned to us, Up to the time wo were six or seven there was no distinction fn her love for us, Rut on the day old and the new lov that the new-found’ sould: he the father get his chofcetupon me, but a ttle while. Slowl; sho set hers upon you. Paul's hand f nd slower Se “youl never know how T suffered a fei, tid slower alt followed Arthur's footate} as ab when T saw the distance "T wasn’ - growing wider and wider with the eald, Wwhon whe found hsm othe ee verre. Perhaps the father. under- And’ love tee wo oe |, mother, for X am oot, for ho wan aiwaya kind and the broken mane kentle to me, I expect to return to Sh China shortly. ‘The Andes han taign heart, “Aty boss OMe, Meant ew ck, Sounds like a fairy to, Lahall never return here, But ou know who Elsa Chetwood me eh? did x boy’ 08 was levelled at the amber-tinted wim dow through which she had come, ‘To Warrington Elsa was @ little thinner, and of color there was Deee; but her eyes shone with all'the 5 8 “Not antil that letter came.” Neither of them heard the fatnt dor of the Oriental stars gasp which came. from behind tha had so often gazed with mute imeat portieres dividing the study and the — * nad!" she sald, and. smiled. living room. ‘The gasp had. follow 1 “Well, what have you to say the hie knife thrusts of these “I? In God's namo, what cea, The woman behind those but that I love you?" at hii & oa xwayed and caught blindly "Well, say tt and stop’ the ache tn With ¢ ! vividness jamb, to whieh # ana pas only my heart! Say it and make me forge! the weary eighteen thousand miles £ have journeyed to find ! Say te and hold me close, for Tam tired! ¢@ # Sy Listen!" she whispered, tiftin ne what ot head from his shoulder. i. heart. And sh From out the stiliness of the sum= thin gon. n mer night came a ing note, the holt of her, leaving her for the time eternal protest of pable of movement, ¥ "4 1 Qenseameeragey IER cin neon % Next Week’s Complete Novel ANOTHER TARZAN STORY. THE ETERNAL LOVER By Edgar Rice Burroughs Author of “ TARZAN OF THE APES," Ete, Anew TA © laid in the African jungle, The many: thousand AN will regoice to meet their old friend aggin + an thie newest and moat stiring of Slr, Burroughe's Taraan romances, THE ETEBNAL LOVER” WILL BEGIN“IN Next. Monday’s Evening World: