The evening world. Newspaper, September 9, 1922, Page 14

Al ; 14 SIXTH INSTALMENT, Im Which Mr. Smith and “George Become Better Known to Banker Harding and Clear Up the Mystery of the Burglary. HEN and whi h jeep Harding never knew, It was the trar sition from jarring nm tion to motionless quict that uwak ened Hin. He recognized that wall They had arrived for the final ac “I suppose so. But I'l] never under? atand the necd of bringing me back here, What if 1 had been hit last might? What would you haye done with me? “The supposition isn’t arguable. 1 doen't believe we'll haye any trouble to-night. ‘The last thing they'll sus Pect is our return.” Harding had his doubts, but he sid Rothing, and grimly tramped through the snow, “Mr close upon Smith's" heels, ‘The farmhouse was dark; but he squeezed small comfort from this fact. It had been dark last night They reached the house without Mishap and skirted around to the Southwest wing. At the door leading into the conservatory “Me, Smith" tried a dozen k and at length the deor creaked drearily inward, Empty flowerpots and jars, some Whole, some broken, lay strewn about the conservate and over everything there was still a haunting p! odor as of earth As they entered the library, where the safe was, Harding raised his head What was it that was different about this room? The sheets were still in ‘evidence, and the musty smell. What Was it? ive me the securities, Mr. Hard ing.” Harding passed them ovtr silently and rather sbsently. The unknown thrust the package into the safe and closed the door. Then he set the tlevtric torch on top of the safe, and the white ceiling gave eeforth a faint, indirect light. The un- known leaned against the safe, and the glow struck his face obliquely Ue™By George!" exclaimed Harding "I've got it! 1 know I had seen you Bomewhere, It was your picture in gne of the Sunday supplements. You're that American aviator. France. They've decorated you. You had a bad fall. 1 knew I had seen you The name, the name! What's the name? Confound my memory! Young ‘man, you ought not to be mixed up im a shady transaction like this = rhere's a flaw somewhere."* -“>"On the contrary, it is perfect."’ The > _ySung man smiled as amiably and as STanquilly as if such a thing as a gullty conscience did not exist, at Yeast as far as he was concerned. vu, ‘Well,’ said Harding after a long Wait, ‘suppose you tell'me what that Obligation is? If it is not blackmail, why all this mystery? How did that PeRtock get into this ruin? What's the | meazing of the Chinese characters on Hj the wrapper?’ He spoke lightly, but $-nohe the less he felt strangely per- turbed. “Once every so often," began the young man, all the brusqueness gone from his voice, which was now agree- able in the extreme, ‘‘the tired busi- ngs man should be jolted eat of the ruis and given a taste of life. For Years on end you have ploughed one furrow, back and forth, never resting, ~ wpever deviating. All wrong. A man © fm essentially like a ship, If he does + not go into drydock occasionally he * becomes covered with barnacles. Mr Harding, you are corroded with the rust of work, which is just as noxious as the rust of idleness. You have neyer taken a vacation. Your blood has flowed; it has never hounded. You never had a real adventure. You never re a real boy.’" iS=SHarding could have described "Gis sensations. Truths, every one of iahem, bitter truths that had Sako to him many times of late. i= You have been a kind father. } Ponsiderate but S@rer been the comrade of either your fwife or your daughter. Thi not come husband; you have boy in ? yOu has been calling for years, but * you never let go. Why? Because John } Harding bad built @ Chinese wall $ around himself and called it—prestige! And the pity of it is, you would have made a great You have a “ween sense of humor; you have fore ) sight, courage. For it took courage on S your part to do what you did last + Might, even if the cartridges were “Blanks and the constable—my valet! “What? “Precisely. I put in this safe day before yesterday. They are mine, This house belongs to the ‘Nicholson estate, and was once Henry _Nigholson's summer h Some thir Ay-odd years ago Morr! icholson and comrade, those certificates anon ip father Henry hade,eevere alteron- i Tm By _Horod \ THE EVENING WORLD, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 1922. ¢ Millionaire Bur IMustrated By JOHIS HARDING, tied down to busines retire and go in for lighter thing WASNT Ta nstone. all his life, is just ready to when a letter from his wife tells him his daughter BETTY, has fallen in love. [he letter doesn't say with whom, Hard- ing plans a deal to control a bank and wonders where five hundred missing shares may be MATHEWSON, his secretary, doesn't know anything except that the shares once belonged to old Nicholson, former rival of Harding, who left his estate to a grandson of whom Harding has heard nothing for thirty years. At his club, Harding is accosted by a stranger who introduces himself as . MR SMITH, who compels Harding to listen to him for five minutes and incidentally to pay for his supper | “THE UNKNOWN THRUST THE PACKAGE INTO THE SAFE AND CLOSED THE DOOR.” tion, which resulted in the son's de- parture, ne to return. He went to China, where, with bridges, railroads and canals, he made an independent fortune of his own. But he talked of America; and he married t daughter of an Hongkong. Th strong-willed, that father and They might break but they would nevt bend. What the original argument was about nobody knows. The spirit of reprisal lurked in the son's heart for rs. While he never spoke of America he always kept closely in touch in a business way There was a standing order to buy any bank stock the elder Nicholson Placed on the market. He bought through lawyers, having no faith in the reticence of the average broker. I suppose he had a vague idea of getting control some day of the terests in that bank of failed, as of course, you died four y never glish officer in on. Nicholson in He He yours. know rs ago. The young man pause As for Harding, he was wandering through an eno nted forest without a simgl: bread crumb to gui him on the way back “There was a son, born in Hon Kong, educated in England and France. He knew that he was an American in a way, but he never knew anything about this grandfather A few months ago, the agents of the trustees located him in a French Hos pital, He learned that he was the sole heir to the Nicholson estate, 1 am Arthur Nicholson.’! “But where do 1 come in? What's all this to m “T spoke of an obligation Sh!" whispered Harding. He seized the young man by’ the arm. He knew now what it was that had mystified him upon entering the room. “We are not alone in this house. This room is warm, | smell—food—coffee Arthur Nicholson struck his hand together, Orienta) fashion. The dou : ih MONDAYS — doors at the rear creaked and groaned 1s they rolled back over the rusty guides, and behold! a table beautifully appointed, The butler who had opened the door waited deferentially. In front of the sideboard stood a second man. The dancing cheer of a log fire shot the shining glass and sliver with iri- descent gleams. Harding shut his , then opened them. Nothing dis- appeared; it was all real, But It was none the less maddening. What did it mean? At one side of the table sat a gray- haired elderly woman, as beautiful and majestic as a summer cloud, She was smiling, At the foot of the table stood—George the chauffeur! He was still bundled up in the great coat; he still wore the atrocious leather headgear. Even as he gazed, Harding saw the\coat slip to the floor, reveal- ing arms and shoulders as lovely as an Oriental dawn. ‘Then the head- was but carefully, ey ear discarded, mind you! “Betty?” His wife and daughter ‘There was a small internal war between his common sense and this bewildering picture. The tableau lasted but a moment. "Will some one tell a poor, old, broken-down husband and father what the dickens all this means?"* “It was my Idea, daddy, but Arthur porated it. Wasn't it fun?" Harding turned toward the young man, ‘So you are the postscript?” Mes, Harding laughed; but there Wasn't much assurance in her laugh She was a bit frightened. John never forgave any one who made him appear ridiculous "Daddy, once upon a time you said that I should never marry a man who lacked tmagination,”* Harding began to walk about, his hands behind his back, his gaze upon the rug. The watched with various of trepidation Abruptly he stopped and eyed one individually and speculatively Then he exploded; but it w others him degrees each with The Novel of Japanese Life That Was Suppressed in Japan IMONO By JOWUN Begins in THE EVENING WORLD SEPTEMBER 11th PARI lar Author Of" The Voice In The Fog "The Ragged Ed@eete. lmughter. He walked around to his wife and gravely kissed her, “Old girl!’ he murmur and there\w something in her man's voice that caused the woman's eyes to swit ‘Then he confronted the daughter, tal ing her by the shoulders, “You in ternal—Jittle wretch! L thought 1 w having af adventure and, I've tx only a jack-in-the-box!" He her toward him bungrily and held her tightly. The girl recognized understood, “You st Daddy. It's machine you gave me last spring, I've carried you down to the offfeo a hun dred times in it."* “I haven't recognized lots of thinas that I recognize at this moment He released his daughter and went around to Nicholson, grasping him roughly by the sholders aad swing ing him toward the candlelight “IT hope you'll Harding.” ver In this world, young the car, the forgive me, M vant Old Nicholson's grandson, eh? It’s in the blood to take things away from John Harding, Is this the man you want to marry, Betty?"" “He the man I'm going marry.” “Verbs are wonderful things. Harding admitted. “Mr. Smifh, there is still one puzzle: ‘The obligation.”’ “Oh! The young man vy hand toward Betty. ‘My obligation t you? You are the father of the jest and most wonderful this world."* “T see.” “Will you pay the price?" son's voice was not quite so steady as might be. “Can I avold paying it? But re member this: I told you last night that I had a long arm. Some day I'll get even with you that chute.” Harding took .. chair and car- ried It around to his wife's side and sat down. "You two young think that this is your love story. On the contrary, It's mine. Now bring on his aved love girl in all Nicho for coal people the coffee! THE END. (Copyright by the Bell Syndicate. +> The Literary Problem of the Day in the Opinion of the Part- ners Is to Make the Story Horrible. ' the Author Can Get His Publisher In- dicted Then His For- tune as a Novelist Is Certain. By Montague Glass. ES, Mawruss,” Abe Pot- es ash said as he watched the stenographer read- ing a book“ while she ate her lunch, “ten years ago that girl there would be already read ing novel which would have in it any- how one duke to the page, and the story would be about a young, fellow which has got nothing t@ sup- port a wife with except chotzig five thousand pounds a year and therefore hesitates for three hun- dred pages that he should ask the girl he loves to marry him on account her father is the rich- est_ man in England, the whole family having been successful dukes for years already. “But nowadays that’s a back number idea for a novel, Maw- russ, which I bet yer the most any- body makes in that book Miss Cohen is reading is fifty cents an hour and everybody in the story MONTAGUE GLASS Lover-Husband Survives the Woman’s New Freedom — “Co-operative Ego- tism,’’ Says Andre Tridon, “Is Neces- sary to Married Hap- piness. Husband Must Re- main the Lover to Hold Wife and She Must Not Become a Female Nag. By Fay Stephenson. E have had the passing of the parlor and the passing of the old-fashioned girl castonally it been and oc- has whispered about that we shall ace the passing of husband worship Am editorial writer in York Medical Journal degeneration ahead retains his mastery, the New foresees unless the male stating: ‘The yielding by man to the other sex of masculine essential rights and obliga tions is a symptom of declining virility, physical and mental." Another medical different alarm; also writer sounds a “Overworked woman may impair the constitutional vigor of man, while she works with him. She is kept up by nervous excitement, by strong tea or drugs. In fussy. work short, woman is In @ stress of work she will { on with crimson cheeks and growing irritation, while man will put on his hat and calmly resort to the nearest lunch room," Finally there comes Havelock Ellis, usually less panicky, who thinks he has noticed @ distinct degeneration in the young man of to-day. “These weak-chinned, neurotic young men are no match at all for the heavy Jawed resdlute young women feminist methods are creating The yielding to women of masculine rights is a symptom of declining yirility.* Hut according to Andre ‘Tridon, in his new book “Psychounalysis and Love," published by Brentano's, there is undue pessimism in all these warn- ings “Woman has not become brutish. as some writers claim," says Mr, 'I'ri- don, ‘‘nor has man become effeminate. Woman has simply gained a clearer knowledge of her latent powers and the war has provided her with a touchstone for her physical resistance and endurance “The work woman had to do during the war, which she had never sus- pected she could do, for until then it had been considered as man’s work, hag not ‘masculinized’ her but it has rid many ‘delicate flowers’ of their morbid belief in the fragile character of their constitution. “That almost extinct species ts the type of husband who speaks of HIS wife, who knows ‘women’ and what is ‘good’ for them, the home Jehovah, all-knéwing and all-powerful, who must be served and obeyed; who, on hts return from work must find his wife ready to entertain him if he so wishes, or to plunge back nto the depths of the kitchen if his mood so requires."’ But Mr. Tridon admits that this type of husband ts fast becoming ex- tinct and adds: “In a world which grants equal opportunities to men and women, no husband will be able to justify or ex- cuse his treatment ing ‘She Is my wife.’ have to remain her lover in order to hold her. No wife will be able to make the home hideous and at the her hus- certificate of en- slavement called a marriage license. Every step ahead which the world takes fortunately proves a new step which loves takes In the direction of completeness and freedonf from gor- didness and ugliness “Democracy in the home is the pre- requisite of every perfect matrimonial adjustment. The autocratie govern- ment of the home by a male bully or of a woman by He will same time brandish band’s head the over a female nag leads to either a reyolu- tion (divorce) or to the destruction of human material after a bitter strife (neurotic ailments) “Upon marriage a subtle if not overt struggle occurs between the mates for the dominant position in the contract. The big, aggressive wife and the timid, little husband at- test to the importance of organie superiority in the adjustment, but the average marriage does not show such organic differences. Married happi ness, fo be lasting, requires co-opera live egotism.’” And if # sn't acquire “co-operative egotism’? in business there's positively no hope for per! “He always writes about the town where the people in his novel live as If he would have hee hired to do the job by the Publicity Committee of the Chamber of Commerce in the next largest ON THE NOVEL OF THE DAY 6 HE best she can get from reading one of them rotten S 6 I hooks is that she should get trampled to death in subway panic while she is still young and happy.” “In them re-clastic novels people seem to get married ex- pressly for the purpose of finding out that they are terribly mis- taken in one another.” “After the fifth child hecomes of school age she elopes with the driver of an ice wagon who is really a Harvard graduwate.” town on the same railroad line.” “If the writer of a re-elastic novel can get his hook barred from the mafis and his pab- lisher indicted, he could make his next book as snappy as the Classified Telephone Directory and he could sell a couple of hundred thousand of them at an advance in price.” has a-rotten time from start to finish “Well, that’s what they call it a re-elastic novel, Abe,'’ Morris Perl- mutter said. “What's re-elastic about it?" Abe demanded. ‘Does everybody have a rotten time in real life, Mawruss, don't anyhow 2 per cent. of us make once in a while a killing and get a or comfortable living out of It? But you take th here re-elastic novels, Mawruss, and if Miss Cohen, the stenographer, Is going to get her ideas of what is coming to her from read- Ing one of them rotten books, the best she could hope for is that she should get trampled to death in a subway panic while she is still young and happy “As for myself, Mawruss, every time I try to save fifty cents by kill ing an evening with a library book in steady of a moving picture y'understand, T get a sort of an un- easy feeling that Rosle is going to al! of a sudden sty to me out of a clear sky: ‘For twenty-five years, Popper. I've been a slave to you, Popper. Your will has been my will, Popper, but now, Popper, it's already come to the fihish. 1 am going out into the world, Popper, to live my own life, Popper. and when the boy calls from Kaplan's Strictly French Hand Laundry, Pop- per, don’t forget to tell him he was show, \missing last week in three collars and a handkerchief, Popper, because you will never see me again.’ “Well, from what little I know about you after being partners with you In business, Abe, I wouldn't blame Rose if she did talk that way to you,” Morris said, “although I admit that It ain't likely.” “Sure it ain't likely," Abe agreed “It's something which could happen only in one of them re-elastic novels, Mawruss, In fact, Mawruss, in them re-elastic novels people seem to get married expressly for the purpose of finding out that they are terribly mis- taken in one another. A woman in a re-elastic novel says: ‘I think I hate this man and I don't believe I could® live with him as my husband for a million dollars net cash, but there's only one way to find out, so here goes to make the plunge and marry him.’ “Then, after the fifth child becomes of school age, Mawruss, she says to herself: ‘What did I tell you?’ and elopes with the driver of an ice wagon who is really a Harvard gradgawate, but took up driving an ice wagon so as he could write intelligently about ice wagon driving for the 15-cent weekly papers."* MORRIS SHOULD LOOK GUILTY. “But after all, Abe,’’ Morris pro- tested, “wives do run away from their husbands in real Iife."’ “Bay! For that matter do lots of things in real life which even the writers of re-elastic novels don't think it necessary to mention, y'under- stand,'’ Abe continued, ‘‘and even if wives do elope in real life, statistics don't exactly prove the re-elastic novel writer's claim that one hun- dred per cent. of wives elope one hun- dred per cent. of the time, understand me. Take yourself for instance, and when your Minnie comes in here, Mawruss, you get such a grin on you like, instead of your wife, she would be a buyer for a Fifth Avenue De- partment Store who was just going to give you an order for some of our worst selling numbers at top-notch prices.'" “How would 1 look?"’ Morris asked, “Well, if I was a writer of re-elastic novels, Mawruss, I should say that you would look gulity, because In re elastic novels, Mawruss, any husband who has been married as long as you have, not only has left off loving his wife, y'understand, but has also left off loving chotzig seven or eight other ladies too,"’ Abe sald. “L suppose that people in here re-elastic novels has got to do these something to amuse themselves, Abe, on account of living im such ‘dead towns, y'understand,”” Morrig said, “which only last week my wife got from the library a book that she says all her friends ts crazy about, Abe I read some of it last Sungay on ac- count we've got a new elevator boy in our apartment house and he didn’t bring up the paper till pretty near lunch time, and I rhust say, Abe, that if the people in re-clastic novels lives in such a town like the sample town Tam reading about last Sunday, you couldn't blame them no matter they do."" what “Sure I know,"’ Abe said, ‘ but you mustn't all are believe which you read about towns described in re- elastic novels, Mawruss, because the author of a re-elastic novel always about the town where the peo ple in his noyel live as if he would have been hired to do the Publicity Committee of the Chamber job by the of Commerce in the next largest town on the same railroad line. “The tact that the people in a re elastic novel has got to lve in such a town is enough to drive them to sul cide, Mawruss, and practically always does. On the other hand, if they don’t commit suicide, understand me, they do other things which is care fully planned by the author to bar the book from the mails, and even, if he has luck, to get his publishers indicted by the Federal Grand Jury." “And what good is that going to do him?" Morris inquired THE MESSAQE OF RE-ELASTIC WRITER. “A qudstion!"” Abe exclaimed. “Practically all our great writers of re-elastic novels has been barred from the! mails, Mawruss. In fact, that's the only thing what makes most of them great, and then again if the writer of a re-eladtic novel can get his book barred from the mails and his publisher indicted, y'understand, he could make his next novel just about as snappy as the Classified Telephone Directory, and he could sell a couple of hundred thousand of them at adyance in price of 50 per cont his last novel an over In fact, he could even double the price, and get away with it, all the people who read about how the police stopped his last book, and couldn't get a hold of a copy for love or money, will want to be in on this next one before the second class privileges gets revoked on it." “At that, Abe,"’ Morris said, “I think Mawruss, because “——IF HE HAS LUCK, TO GET HIS PUBLISHERS BY THE FEDERAL GRAND JURY.” the majority of people who buys these here re-elastic novels reads them because they are practically always about things that never happen to tlie ordinary human being." “But that ain't the intention the re-elastic novel writer, Mawrii Abe said. “What he wanta ts that lis readers should say: ‘Ain't It the truth?’ when they read how his hero starts in with a hook worm troubic down South and then drifts North for a couple of hundred chapters, getting disappointed in love, tuberculgsis a hard labor en route.” “The re-elastic writer wants to dis | twelve month count by about 150 per cent. the idea the old-time novelist had that s one continuous round of pleasure, and the consequences Mawr up against the proposition writing books where the people is crooks and the th {s, places all the slums in competition w old-timer INDICTED wrote books where the people was all millionaires and the all high grade real developments with fox*hunting privileges free to regis+ tered guests,"* places estate 4 WHY HE GETS PLAIN SPOKEN + “Naturally, tinued, Mawruss,"’ “he's got to Abe con- stick something into his re-elastic novel which will at- tract the novel-reading trade, because when it comes right down to it, Maw- russ, people would a whole lot sooner read abont lords and dukes crippled from fox hunting than they would) about Georgia orackers sufferi from hook worm, y’understand. “So therefore, Mawruss, the re- elastic writer goes to work and gets pretty plain spoken, He writes about happenings which when they are tes tifted to by detective witnesses in divorce cases, the Judge orders the clerk of the court to seal up the reo- ords, y'understand, and then when th° Post Office Department tumbles te his book and bars it from the maim, Mawruss, a whole lot of people get sore because a work of art has beep suppressed, y'understand.”* “But for art ike that, Abe, Morrie sald, “they could always go and sit ir the back benches when a divorce ts being tried."* “Sure they could,’ Abe agra) “excepting that the court room is ;, ways cleared in cases Ike “that es: pecially on account of such loafert i trying to listen in. he Conrright, 160, by the Belt Sredinate, Lae ls = a“