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About Omaha daily bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 187?-1922 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 18, 1921)
a .u 77ke SPORTING CHANCE Ban Mcctde0n TUB BhKt OMAHA. SUNDAY. SKHTKMBKU IK. 19-M. Things Were Bound to Change For the Better Because They Couldn't Get Any Worse. MR. CRUMLRT had been married Jut one week. an4 he wa looking doan Into tho dark waters vt tho river that U4 quietly t:nder the bridge on which he we standing. J I had croM.4 tlrnt bridge a thouun4 times, by day and ly night; he bad stopped a hundred times to lan upon ths strong Iron railing that fcusrded ths fooipslh to gaso enviously down upon ths river 40 feet below gliding, un ihsektd current working Us Insvltsblo way to ths ocean, never, never to corns back again to ths Isnd o.' Us birth. Hut never befors had ha thought of Jump Ing off of that bridge. Perhaps ons of ths reasons why ha never had thought of It befors was that h couldn't swim a s'roke, and, as tho centor of ths mid dle span of ths long steel structurs wss soma thrss hundred feet from the nearest bank and ths water 10 or IS feet deep, It was something one really couldn't think about Now he was thinking about It He waa arguing with himself that It would not be quite so terrifying to do It at night, especially on a night like this, when there waa no moon and the sky wss without a single stsr. To do It In broad daylight, when It was possible to calculate not only the distance one would have to fall but with considerable accuracy the exact spot where one would disappear, waa un speakably dreadful. In turning tho matter oveY in hla mind another objection to doing it In the daytime presented Itself: tho certainty that the act would bo witnessed by a number of people, some of whom undoubtedly wtuld yell out Junt as he was about to spring from the rail ing "Hey! You damn fool!" or "Grab him. the crasy fool!" And aomchovr It seemed frightfully undig nified to go down to death with pcopl.i looking cn and calling you a damn fool. By doing it at night one could be reason ebly certain of avoiding anything so unpleasant as that besides lf.no one saw him do It, hla wife or, more strictly speaking, his widow might go on for months wondering what had become of him. and there waa a wholo lot of satisfaction to be got out of that. He found himself rather grimly enjoying the hope that his body might not be recovered for months, and then In such a state that identi fication would be Impossible (ho recalled that he had no gold fillings in his teeth, no moles or birthmarks, and no tatooed ballet-dancer on his forearm), In which case Mrs. Crumley would be cheated out of the pleasure of being pitied by all the rest of the boarders at Mrs. Smith's, to say nothing of the rather enviable notoriety to be derived from the headlines and conjec tures of ho two local newspapers. Somettilng told htm she would enjoy the greatness thus thrust upon her, and in his present frame of mind he couldn't see himself voluntarily thrust ing anything upon her but misery. He tenderly caressed the painful and sub stantial lump Just above his left ear and gritted his teeth determinedly. An hour earlier that lump was not there. Moreover, it was consid erably larger now that it was when he felt it 10 minutes ago. He removed his fingers hasti ly There was something positively grewsome in tho thought that if he kept them on the pro tuberance he might actually feel It grow. If this could happen to him after one short week of married life, what O what was in store for him at the end of a year? If she could do this with a whlskbroom, what was she likely to do with a full-sized broom handle, or a bedslat, or, if such a tiling happened to be handy, a base ball bat? , Mr. Crumley hadn't really wanted to get mar ried. He was 88 and a little over, and, so far as he knew, no one had ever wanted to marry him before. Up to a week ago he had been a happy, contented bachelor without a care in the world. Circumstancea over which he had no control made a married man of him so suddenly, bo abruptly, that he didn't quite realize what had happened until his abominable stepchildren be gan to call him papa and ask him for money to go to the movies with. In view of the possibility that it may be diffi cult to Identify him with any degree of certainty later on, it is only fair to establish his identity while he is still with us. He is a smallish man with eyeglasses, a blue serge suit, russet shoes, gray socks, and a flowing black bow tie. He is quite bald. x He has the face and figure of a student and the complexion as well. For seven years he has been the instructor in mathematics In tho public schools of tho town he is about to leave. He Is a Baptist, sings tenor in tho church choir, surreptitiously ..votes the republican ticket, has something like $3,000 In the savings bank. and is a perennial Judge of hemstitching and embroidery exhibited at tho county fair. Altogether he is or, more strictly speaking, was a man of consequence. His Christian name was William. As a school boy In his native town he was called Willie. As a matter of fact, he was the sort of William you would never dream of calling Bill. It remains only to be said that he went through the grade schools, th high school, and four full years at a freshwater college without once sustaining a blow of my description. It was not until -after, he had been married almost a week in fact, it lacked Just two hours of being a week that he experienced the sensation of being soundly thumped and then by a woman smaller than himself and at least 10 years older. In all fairness to Mr. Crumley it must be stated that he had not known she was older than himself. Ke could see that she was smaller, but he had absolutely no means of seeing that she was older. He worked it out mathematically after hearing from his stepdaughter, a girl of IS, that her 20-year-old sister was a manicure , lady In .a Chicago hotel and was always getting engaged to the "swellest fellas." His wife con fessed to S6 "How old were you, darling, when you wero married?" he inquired, shortly after hearing about the manicure. "I told you I was 36," she replied sharply. "How many times have I got to tell yon ? " "I mean the first time you were married." "O! Well, I was 21 My Lord, I wish you could have seen my first husband. He was a man, he was. If you could have seen what sort of a man my husband was you'd cur! up and die of mortification, that's what you'd do. He was the handsomest fellow In " - "I know. I understand that perfectly. They always are." "What do you mean by that? Something nasty, eh? Well, let me give you a bit of advice, prolessor don't you cast any aspersions on my husband. Hs " "Am I not your husband, my dear?" "You're my second husband, that's what you arc. My God, you don't think I'd ever have picked you for my first, do you? Why, when I' stop to think what my husband would say if he knew that I'd married s schoolma'am, J get the cold shivers all over me. You wait a second! Where am you going? Can't you see I'm talking to you? Here we've been married four days and you have the face to turn your back on me the nerve to try to walk out on me while I'm speaking to you. Come back here! Now, you listen to what I've got to say!" : Mr. Crumley took counsel with himself and forebore asking any questions regarding the 21-year-old manicure. Something seemed to tell him that it wasn't any of his business. But 22 (he allowed her a year's grace) and 28 make 48. any way you go about it Now, for six years Mr. Crumley .had been the star bcarder at Mrs. Smith's. He waslooked pon as s fixture. He paid his board promptly, never complained about the food or service, and rpreentf4 society in its misrieit a;ect-fur while he a not what might be rUe4 an orna ment In the strictest sense of the trni, he ws. hen all Is al4. a necessity. A abuvklna psuriiy of unsuached oung men, or n miMdle-vd ones, exist In virtually all town the le of WhipU-y. Mr, Crumley, being a peculiarly Irreproach able biior, played quite uneoiclouly a dual role In society t he was, generally speaking, both a "durable" and an "undesirable." Kruli tlon was ret precisely what society in Whlplvy wanted, but It waa bound to be several men short unless It took In a few of the Mr, Crumley, Force of circumstance, It will be seen, made Mr. Crumley a society man, and as such he wss iultj a prronago at Mrs. Hmlth'i sclrct boarding Itou. Kor five or six years he had bevn looked upon as a social oracle a fashion barometer, so to speak. He was the only one of Mrs Smith's boarders who went "out In society." He rather enjoytd ths distinction. He rather liked coming down to dinner In hla tuxedo, because everyone knew on the Instant thst he was going out to "something or other" and while he wss con rclous that three or four gentlemen In Ill-pressed business suits looked at him with disdain, he wss also very happily aware of the fact that they would have given their eye teeth to be In his place. He rather liked stifling a yawn when some one asked htm at breakfast what sort of an affair Mrs. Bo-and-8o's party was the i.lght be fore, and he liked to ahrug his shoulders non chalantly when some one of the men Invariably remarked that he "didn't see how the dickens he could be lit for a day's work after being up , till all hours of tho night, like this." And now that peaceful, pleasant feeling of superiority wss gone gone forever. He was married. Society wouldn't even dream of tak ing tho wife of his bosom to Its bosom, and no longer did the boarders at Mrs. Smith's envy him. On the contrary, they pitied him. He had cooked his own goose and he would have to eat It. Two months prior to the fatal night on which we join hint In hla reflections on the bridge, a Mrs. Elvira Kingsbury came to Mrs. Smith's to board. She took two rooms on the same floor with Mr. Crumley. One of them next door to Mr. Crumley and between him and the stair vay she occupied with her daughter, Clayre; her son Harold, aged 15, took up hla abode In the small room on the other side of him. He was, so to speak, hemmed In by Ktngsburya. They shared the same bathroom at the end of the hall that ia to sny, they shared it if he w as spry enough to pop Into it when the Kings burys were out of it He had to crawl out of bed half a.i hour earMer than was his custom in order to get his morning tub, and even then he went about It with considerable furtlveness becauso of a harrowing dread of bumping into Mrs. Kingsbury or Clayre as he sneaked stealthi ly back to his room. After several weeks of this sort of thing it dawned upon him that perhaps Mrs. Kingsbury was proud of the fluffy blue and white peignoir In which she went to the bath always very shyly and shrinklngly and he became so familiar with it that he recognized it every time ho encountered Clayre on her way to the bath. He began to experience a strange conviction that he was unnecessarily modest. Mrs. Kingsbury was a lively, sharp-eyed little woman, and quite pretty. There was no deny ing tho fact that she was quite pretty. HoweA-r, a more worldly and experienced man than Mr. Crumley would have remarked at a glance that her face was hard, her eyes calculating, her lips a trifle thin, and her tongue though invisible exceedingly sharp. She was fron Chicago. She had nil o big city woman's opinion of the small town, and while she was, for business purposes, more or lens politic in her expressions, but half en eye was required to see that she was entirely lacking in compassion for the poor wretches who had lived all their lives in Whlpley. Clayre and Harold were not so diplomatic. They wero lofty. They had a great deal to say about Whlpley, and- still more to say about Chi cago. Mr j. Smith's -hoarders were patient. But the day that Harold got fresh with, the boy who delivered the evening newspapers at the board ing house, one Barney Lenlhan, there was heart felt rejoicing among them. Harold sustained a cracked lip, a bloody nose and a pair of in credibly black eyes, to say nothing cf a bruised kneecap, which he got while trying to fly up the front steps instead of mounting them in the usual way. - ... Mrs. Kingsbury had bought out the millinery business of Etta Hanks on Fourth street. That is how she happened to become an inhabitant of Whlpley and an Inmate of Mrs. Smith's select boarding house. . . She had not been in the place two days before at least four persons, all women, had informed her that Mr. Crumley was one of the richest bachelor.'! in town, one of the most popular so , ciety men, .and absolutely womanproof. So she 'went after Mr. Crumley as a cat goen after a "mouse. This was at first. Toward the end she went after him as a terrier goes after a rat. He coujd not avoid her. She had her seat changed to his table in the dining doom; she made "fudge" for him; she-begged him to sing fotf her; she went to him almost daily with mathematical tangles, ' confessing to a dreadful stupidity about figures; she asked - his advice about everything; she went to the Baptist church twice on Sundays, just to hear him sing, although she professed to be an Episcopalian; she walked .to church with him and to save his life he couldn't think cf a way to escape him walking home with her; she told him how unhappy she had been with her husband, and how she had had to refuse heaven knows how many men .be cause she would never marry again never. . :'' Now, Mr. Crumley hadn't the faintest desire to marry her. He was not above admiring her in a passing sort of way when she slid by him . timorously In that fetching peignoir not always . succeeding in her well-meant efforts to hide her bare ankles but as for marrying her or any one else wel!, it simply never entered his head. It was not until Harold tackled him for the loin of a dollar one evening that he awoke to his danger. Harold promised to. repay him as soon as he could get a Job. Mr. Crumley mildly ob served that that was likely to be some time off, In view of the fact that he was still in school -and but Harold brought him up with a jerk by announcing that as soon as "you and mamma are married I'm going to cut loose for myself, believe me"' That was the beginning of the end. Things happened with a rush from that time on. Much to Mr. Crumley's consternation, people began to ask him when it was to take place, and other questions of a similarly Irritating nature. And: then Mrs Kingsbury, profoundly agitated, in formed him one evening In the darkest corner of the porch that she had changed her. mind about never marrying again. She admitted that her change in heart was due in a great measure . to the fact that she considered herself more or less compromised, that everybody In the house - was talking about her and him and, besides, the children liked him tremendously, and so did she, for that matter. In fact, she went even farther and said that she was just breaking her heart over him. ' He didn't sleep a wink that night, and all the next day his mind was not concerned with i mathematics. While he couldn't, for the life of him, see how he had compromised her. still he knew enough about, small town gos3ip to ap precise its horrors. So he made up h's mind to play fair with the innocent lady: he would change boarding places and thus put a stop to all the But when he proposed that same eve ning to make this gentlemanly sacrifice he dis covered, to his dismay, that it was not her idea of what a gentleman should do in the "circum stances. She declared that next to being mentioned as a co-respondent in a divorce case, the most awful thing that could happen to a moral, self . respecting woman was to be dragged into court as the plaintiff in a breach of promise suit. Shi thought it was so low and vulgar and well, sort of grasping. Mr. Crumley felt the cold perspira ion breaking out all over him. Something came up in his throat and stayed there, depriving him of the power of speech. On the other hand, she moaned, -it seemed dreadful to think that the only alternative was suicide. The only consolation to be had out of suicide was the knowledge that the world al ways understands and sympathizes when ft , reads the broken-hearted farewell note the un happy sufferer leaves behind to clear up the mystery oZ her death so that the man she loven" even with her least breath might be spared the Ignominy of being locked up and tried on the charge of having murdered her. At 9:30 she wanly smiled at him and said goodby. She had decided that she could hot endure the notoriety of a breach of promise suit "Whe where are you going?" he gulped, as she started down the front "steps. "Sh!" she whispered. "I don't want the chil dren to suspect Isn't It wonderful that I can be so calm, so so peaceful about it? Goodby, dear heart goodby." He sat perfectly still for many minutes after Fhe had passed out of . sight, walking briskly in the direction of Main street. , He seemed petri fied. Suddenly a full sense of understanding struck hitr. like a blow.. He leaped to his feet, looked about him wildly, opened his lips, to shout after her, and then plunged blindly down the steps. Two minutes later he dashed into Weaver's drug store. . She was not there. "Have you has , Mrs. Kingsbury been in here?" he demanded of the boy at the scdafount. Ah, how many times had he sat happily on one of the tall stools with. some bright-faced, charm ing girl beside him, chatting blithely. "Yes. She bought some note paper a cou ple of minutes ago, professor. She " "Anything else? Anything else?"' "Nope. I heard her ask Mr. Weaver if he thought 10 grains of strychnine would kill a dog, and he said it would kill an elephant." "Yes, yes yes, yes! What what then?" "Well that was about all. . Oh, yes, she did cay something .about not having any elephant at present, and what? Why, she went up street, towards her store, I guess." ' Five minutes later she opened her shop door a couple of inches and peered out. "Go n way!" she cried to the man outside. "Leave me. alone." He pushed hia way in. ' The store was dark. "I've I've ' been to two drug stores you. didn't buy it in either one of them. My God, woman, what a scare you've given me. , Now, come on home there's a good girl. Have a good sleet you'll feel different in the morning." "You bet I'll feel different in the morning," she said, ominously. "I've got enough poison back there in my desk to kill an elephant. I always keep it on hand " - "I I must call a policeman. I I" "Go ahead! He will be too late, darling. It only takes half a second to swallow " "My God you wouldn't you " "I'd liko to have a few minutes to finish writ ing the note, that's all." The town clock was striking 1 0 when County Clerk Binn opened his front door and beheld Mr. Crumley. At the bottom of the steps stood a lady a taut, resolute little figure that seemed for all the world like a soldier on gusrd . Mr. Crumley, flawed and shaken, implored Mr. Blinn to come down to the court house at once and Issue a marriage license. "Won't tomorrow morning do, professor?" inquired the clerk. ' Mr. Crumley hesitated. A significant hor rifying sound barely audible to Mr. Blinn but as piercing as the fire of a gatllng gun to the mathematician came up from 'the bottom of the steps. It was the warning of the deadly rattlesnake. Although there was nothing writ ten on the little pasteboard pill box In Mrs. Kingsbury's hand to indicate that it should be well shaken before taken, nevertheless the lady shook It "No no. It's got to be tonight, Mr. Blinn," raid Mr. Crumley, wincing. , ' It was a quarter of 11 when Justice of the' Peace Roudebush was routed out of bed to per form a marriage ceremony. Mr. Crumley had been Very carefully shanghaied for a cruise around tho world. The next day Mrs. Crumley began to talk k x . nitron); m nr m a , about an eight-room apartment in the new building that was being erected on Scott street. It was ihen that she discovered the truth - about Mr. Crumley's, finances. She confided her discovery to Harold and Clayre and began t-hrillly to' talk about strychnine again, Mr, Crumley, badgered by all three of them, rose temporarily to surprising heights. He said he didn't give a damn how soon she swallowed the ' poison, but' as she had on hand a supply sufficient - to kill an elephant he thought she ought to in clude Clayre and Harold and make a good clean Job of it. It was his first and last note of de fiance. : ' ' Now wo come back to him on the bridge. He had taken two of his wife's tablets the night be fore, considerately leaving eight of them behind in, case she needed them, only to find that they tasted amazingly like potash, and failed to have any effect whatsoever. He had stood in front of the mirror on his bureau waiting for tho hideous lists sardonlcui tc imprint itself upon his stiffen ing' lips. Consultation of a treatise on poison had provided him with all the definite symptoms of approaching dissolution in a case of strych nine poisoning. Falling ' to observe anything tike the "sardonic grin" On his pallid features, he went over and laid down on the bed prepared , to endure, and even to assist, the "opisthotonos." He fixed his heels firmly against the foot board, and, lying flat on his back without a pillow un der his head, waited for the inevitable convulsion that would end with his head and heels alone resting on the mattress, the . remainder of his rigid body being bowed upward with quite a .space-' between it and the bed. Nothing happened. Thj next morning she rapped him over the head with a heavy end, of, -a whisk -broom. It was then that he went down to the river, Ptmderlng, he continued to stare at the black, almost invisible water. At last, with a long sigh he pulled his hat down tight upon his head, .placed ono foot on the lower rail, gripped the upper rail with his hands, and prepared to vault over into the unknown. A hand fell upon his shoulder . Kis knees gave way beneath him, he sagged limply against the rail.' Caught! - ' . "What's the trouble, stranger?" inquired a voice, a low masculine voice. "Where where did you come from?" chat tered Mr. Crumley. "I didn't hear you." "I've been standing here behind you for 10 or 15 minutes. I've been thinking about you, too, all that time.. You've been figuring on jumping over.there into the river, eh? Is it so bad as all that?" ."I can't discuss it with you," said Mr. Crum ley, regaining some of his dignity. "This is a purely personal affair. Please go away." "I don't know what the trouble is, 3tranger," said the man in the darkness, "but it seems to me you oiight to give yourself a sporting chance. How far is it down to the water?" . "About 40 feet. ' Have you never been on this bridge before?" "Never. Forty feet, eh? Water pretty deep?" . .'- "It's a matter I do not feel inclined to " "Don't get huffy, pardner. Now, it strikes me that you are not giving fate much of a chance to prove to you that you are wrong in taking this step. Sometimes things turn out better than you think- Take me, for instance. I've been on the point of blowing my brains-out half a dozen times. I didn't do it and here I am alive and well and es happy as a clam. I haven't a worry in the world. The only thing that troubles me is the occasional pinch of poverty and that re minds me. You won't need any money, or a watch, or anything like that in the place where you are going, so please hand 'em over to me. I don't know as I've ever known anything to work out so satisfactorily as this. Usually It's a gun against a man's ribs to get him to loosen,, or to crack him one onhe bean, but here's an ideal situation, I find a man getting ready tj ' i "Do ou mean to say ou are going to rob me?" demanded Mr, Crumley. For the first time he turned to peer over Me shoulder at the th4 owy figure. "Well, now, that's a matter I am net Inclined to discuss. I'ut up your hands It won't take me a second to frisk you. Then we will discuss the future. I've got a suggestion to make to you a good sporting proposition." Mr. C.umly had an inspiration. "Py Jove, suppose suppose I refuse to put up my hsnds what then? Would you shoot me?". "Not ao'a you'd notice it. I'd simply nih you and turn you over to the police as an attempted ruiclde.' Ob, you needn't think I vouUln't do It I'm as big at an elephant You wouldn't" "My God, don't speak to me about elophsnts," groaned Mr. Crumley. ' "Been seeing 'em?" Inquired the stranger, sympathetically. "Think twice, old scout be fore you take any chances w ith me. Put 'em up!" "I don't In the least mind allowing you to rob me," said Mr. Crumley, holding up his hands. "You will not find anything about me except a little loose change In my pants pockvt f 1.(0, perhaps. As for my watch well, I was very careful to leave everything at home that might serve to identify my body when It la found." "Well, there's no sense in taking even It. SO with you when you flop ovor into '.he river, is there? Better keep It In circulation, I'd say. Quarters and dimes. I can tell by the feel of 'cm." The coins Jingled as they dropped Into the stranger' coat pocket "Now, let's discuss your case. What's troubling you? Money matters? Ill health? Disappointment In love?" "Neither of these," said Mr. Crumley. "You may put your hands down r.ow. I'm through. Are you a married man?" ' "Yes In a way." "Long?" "I can't remember when I . wai single," groaned Mr. Crumley. "Ah, now we have It," cried the stranger, a note of satisfaction In his voice. "I feel for you, old man. Nothing nothing In the wor'd 1 so conducive to suicide a a hopeless state of matri mony. But why kill yourself? Why not pick up and light out skip, beat It, leave her high and dry. That's what I do regularly. What do you gain by destroying yourself? You don't hurt her any by doing It, my friend. The chances are she'll bo the happiest woman alive." "Ah, but I gain my "freedom my freedom forever," cried Mr. Crumley, looking over the rail once more. "Well, so does she," protested tho o'.hcr. "The only difference is that -you'll be dead while she'll still be alive. I don't call that a Very .fair dis tribution of freedom, do you?" ' "You- don't "understand. There Is only ono course open to me. Now, If you will please go away. I'll'! v "Just a second, nyy friend. I'm not the kind to interfere with a man when he is in such dis tress as you appear to be. If you fee! that the only way out of your troubles Is to jump Into the river; why that's all there Is to It, so far as I am concerned. All I've got to say is that you ought to take a sporting chance. I've done it revcral.times myself. Once I was on the point of shooting myself. Connubial affliction, by the ' way sort of chronic case with me. 'Well, says I, why not give yourself a sporting chance, old boy? . Go out and stick some one up right in front'of a police station and then hang around long enough to let the cops find out there's been holdup. Pull your gun and open fire on your pursuers. See what I mean? I was giving myself a sport ing chance. If I got away without a scratch, that was to be a sure sign that my luck had changed, and I'd be thankful I hadn't shot myself." " "How did It turn out?' 'asked Mr. .Crumley, interested in spite of himself. "Just as I thought it would. They fired a couple of dozen shots at me and I got away. Now, you are contemplating suicide. . Yon want to jump into the river. Why do that? It' oc curred to me while I was standing back here watching you knowing all the time what was In your mind that you ought to give yourself a chance. Why not be a sport? Why not take a gambler! risk? The idea cam to mo like a flash, and I'm going to put it up to you .as one sport to another. Suicide is an ugly word. It's the same thing as cowardice. Are you listening?" "Yes but it's no use. .1 am determined to end It all." ; . "All right. I agreo to that." said the other, cheerfully. "But let's do it like a, gentleman. . Let's do it like a sport. . Here's the idea. - See thia top rail? It's round and four inches in diameter. Any school boy could walk it if it was laid or. the ground. Now, suppose you take off your shoes and get up there oh the rail I'll help you and see If you can't walk to" . "My God!" gasped Mr. Crumley, drawing away from the railing with a shudder... "i I couldn't do that I'd lose my - balance before I'd taken'? -, N . .-- "That's , just the point I make. Supposing you do lose your balance. Ain't you just as likely to fall In as obt?" " t . "But but I'd be' sure to fall 'outward.: I I good heaven, man, I can't bear to think of it. But you're thinking of jumping in. aren't you?", , '; , That's different. It's all over in a second's ." , time.' "So would this be, If you fell lri that direc tlon. It's all the same in the long run. isn't it? Take off your shoes. Be a sport Don't Jump into the river, my friend. Fall in that' the way a sport would do it Take a chance on fall ing this way Instead of that." . "That wouldn't help matters," exclaimed Mr. Crumley bitterly. "In any event," he went on. "it is so dark I couldn't see the rail. You can't walk a thing like this without seeing it, can you?" '.-. ' .. '. , ; .. "On the other hand,, you can't see the water, and you won't get dizzy." They argued for 10 minutes. Finally Mr. Crumley sat down and began to remove his shoes. -. ; .-'.',.' "It takes a brave man to do a thing like this," he said to the tall stranger who hovered over him. "It takes a perfect daredevil." " "How far is it to the end of the bridge?" "It's about 100 feet from here to the end of the span. I can't go any farther than that on account of the structural work." ; "WTell, that's' far enough," said the other. "If you go that far, we'll call it a day's work. By the way, I forgot to ask you; would you like me to drop your wife a line and tell her how brave you were and that you died like a hero?" "I don't want her to know a damn thins about me,',' said Mr. Crumley strongly. "That's tho right spirit," said the stranger, approvingly. "iovr, you're beginning; to talk like a man that ought to live. Are you ready?" "Yes," said Mr. Crumley, arising. "Do you know, I 1,'ra beginning to take a lot of Interest in this undertaking. It Is .rather an exciting way to do it, isn't It? Kind of like a game. Of .course, I shall fall off the instant I stand up, but It won't be quite the same as just deliberately jumping off." "I'll steady you till you getyour footing," said the other reassuringly.' "You see," confided Mr. Crumley, "I'v only been married a week." "Well." mused his companion, "that' long enough sometimes." "I didn't intend to be married," went on the doomed man plaintively. "I was sort of rushed Into It you know." 1 know I know. What shall I do with these shoes?" . ''"',' "Are they too small for you to wear?" "I should say so. . I've got a foot like an elephant" . "Confound you, why will you keep on talk ing about elephants? Say, do you know that it takes ten grains of strychnine to kill an elephant?"- ... "Now you're beginning to get morbid," - t - .'"' growled tHe robber, "Before ou get up liter on that rail 1 want to esplain something to you. hy right I ought lo do my level best lo pre .at you from committing suicide. l!ut whet would be the use? If I saved you frou yourself tonight you'd b going at It again Inl4 vt a week. I believe In letting a fellow t a thing out of hla sjeteni once end for all. H4d, if I took you home to your wire, you'd probably curae ma to your dying day. I'm not heartless, old man. It Isn't thai I want to see you die. I want you to understand that What I'm trying to do Is to give you a sporting rhsne. It's the only way. Every time you contemplate com milling suicide hst is. In ras you don't meet with aa atttdenl tonight I want you to prom ise nie you'll give yourself a chance. Don't shoot yourself. Just skirmish around and do something that will give some on else a dunce to take a rhot at you. Don't take polon delib erately. Go get a bcx of candy and then slip a tittle do of poison Into one of the cnocolates. shake 'em alt up well so'i you won't kniw which Is which, and then leave the box around where both you and your wife fin have the asm chance at t. If over you think of tunning your self, commit some sort of an outrage nnd take a chance on the mob lynching you. Always always give yourself a sporting chant. Just at you're doing tonight, that's my Idea of play ing tho game.. Now, If you fall off that rail and go kerslap down Into the river all well and good. Tou'v done your best to upset the dope. I bop you understand?" "I do," said Mr. Crumlry, pausing hla hand over hi brow. "I can't help saying, however, that It' horrible to think of standing up on that rail all alone, In the dark, with nothing to grab at In case I but, come on, let' get It over with. I wish, however, you would let me tell you all that ha happened to me In the past week. I " "No:" said th other firmly. "I don't want to hear anything that might resurrect my own married life. I've told you twice now to take your trouble with you. Don't leave 'cm with me. Now, step on this lower rail first; put your hand on my shoulders. That's th stuff. Now, up to th next rail. Now, wait a second. .Let me think. What Is the safest way for you to get up on the top rail without making a mess of it? Give mo time to figure It out." "It seems darker up her where I am," men tioned Mr. Crumley. "I have It," said the stranger, relieved. "Keep your hand on my shoulders and put on foot after the other on the. top rail, bracing your self against me. Thon I'll stoop down till my shoulder is level with the rail. You put one foot on my shoulder and then stand tip straight. That will get-you Into an erect position without a chance of falling overboard. Slowly I will shift my shoulder over quite close to the rail, and then you step off onto it. But for God' sake don't let; your foot slip." "I should say not."' gasped Mr. Crumley. "T think I'd better shut my eyes. It will seem elm- ' pier with my eyes shut I I wish you'd walk ' along ' close be a! do me cr in case I should fall." - "I thought that was just what you wanted to do." "I mean In case I should fall Inward Instead of outward. I'd. probably break an arm or sometning If I landed on that concrete walk. It would be Just like me to strike my sore head aaainat Whoao! ' Steady! Slead-d-y!" "Say when." stranger. ' came from, tho obliging Mr, Crumley took his foot from the sturdy shoulder and started off briskly along tho rail. He had recalled the experience of youth the balmy, carefree days when he used to walk the rails of. the good old Lake Erie and Western, He remembered that It was much easier tc', stick to the rail If :yeu walked rapidly it-wai i fatal to take it slowly, lo he started off briskly, his eyes shut,. his arm outstretched, his bar feet coming down firmly upon the cold, carving steel.;.. ,, '. . - . , ', - . .. The stranger strode along beside him, amaze ment filling, his benighted soul. Mr. Crumley began to run! . '. . , "Well-i-I'll be damned!" gasped the footpad, ' breaking Into trot . Suddenly Mr. Crumley missed; his foot failed to hit the rail! . Tho'. stranger' pulled him to his feet He was blubbering. , "p my Godmy God! I've smashed my knee cap! Ol O! O-o-o!" '- . '.. "Smashed nothing" roared the other. "You're all right! Stand up Hey! You're (not going to faint on me, are you? Buck up! Be a man. Which knee is It? Let me rub it. Lean up against this girder. That' the stuff. . But for God's sake atop howling". . ; Presently Mr. Crumley opened his eyes and put his hand to his heart. . "Well, I I guess I'll have to go home, after all," 'ho groaned. "Leg feel better?" . ' , ,V Mr. Crumley Jiggled his knee cautiously. "I guess it's all right More Scared than hurt Confound you, you said you'd be there o 'catch me - 1 'elt wher bell were you?" "How the devil was I to know that you could 8Pnt like .that? I couldn't keep up with you. say if lcky you fell off when you did. ThMd VMMWA . . . . - una you would nave come slap up against that support at the. end of the span. And- . - "I want to tell you one thing," broke in Mr. , Crumley, the ring of conviction In his voice. "I'll never try to commit suicide like that again. It's too nerve racking." . j VYou.dld the last twenty yards in record time," said the footpad. "There isn't a circus performer in the world who could keve done that trlek.-I didn't believe you could stick on for two feet, and hero you . . '; "I used to be pretty fair In the hundred yard dash," said Mr; Crumley, not without a noto'of pride in his voice. "Where are my shoes?" . While he was putting on his shoes, the stranger leaned reflectively upon the-rail, re garding, the shadowy form hunched up on the walk at his. feet. . . , "It seems a crime for . a" plucky chap like you to have to go back and start all over again, knowing there isn't a chance In a million that she'll make life any easier for you. Been mar ried a week, you say?" . I "Yep," grunted Mr. Crumley. "Well, it certainly didn't take you long to wake up.," v "We've got two children," said the professor "Good God! -In-a " . "I mean step-children," corrected Mr. Crum ley, hastily, "By the way, stranger, it occur to me that .you use extremely good English for a highwayman. You speak like an educated man I thought about It before, but neglected to men tion it" . ' "I' felt the same way about you." . . 'T am a professor of mathematics," ex claimed Mr. Crumley, arising. 1 "And I used to be a riding master. By thw way,' are you pretty well acquainted In this town?" , - "I know practically everybody in it." "Then It ia more than likely you know my wife. She live here, I understand." "You understand? Don't you know where your wife live?" ... . , "Well, you ee. if thia way. I've been liv ing In Joliet for three years. You know where, Jollet is, don't you and what' located there?" "A penitentiary." gasped Mr. Crumley. "Correct That may explain my Apparent Ignorance you . might say Indifference con cerning the present whereabouts of my wife. I don't mind explaining that she probably feef fairly confident that I have taken up a perma nent residence in Joliet, so she's going to be ' most tremendously surprised when I walk in n her. Mind you, it Isn't because I love her. or want to go back to live with her not a b- ; '(tarn te Mg tlx,' Cehsta Oa4