Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The Red Cloud chief. (Red Cloud, Webster Co., Neb.) 1873-1923 | View Entire Issue (July 30, 1914)
RED OLOUD, NEBRASKA, CHIEF fe LAPSE of DSOCnVDSTWOKTn tiSr ISABEL GORDON CURTIS Author rf "The Woman jrom WoJverr:or5" ILLUSTRATIOISST ELL3VOKm YOUNG- COPYRIGHT, ISW BY F.C.DROWME fr.CO. CHAPTER XXI. From the Top Gallery. On tho samo night that ZUIa Paget took up hor resldonco In tho Wont worth homo a rant Oswald sat bcsldo hi desk, dictating letters to his dec retory, lie listened while the tlnklo of the overture coasod. "Has Mr. Wentworth come In yet?" 1m askod when an usher entored with telegram. "No, sir; we're watching tor him. Nobody has seen him." "Ask him to como hore as soon as ha arrives." None of the employes of the Gotham recognised a man boslde the stair of the upper gallery, where a steep Iron railing Jutted out upon the side street. Tho rain fell softly and he was muffled to the chin In a drab overcoat. A felt hat was drawn over his eyes. He emerged suddenly from the shadow to lay his hand upon the arm of a boy who went springing up the grated stair. "Here, do you want to mil your ticket for a dollar?" ib asked. "Sure," cried the boy emphatically. "Say, mister, why don't ye buy one rer yerseltT They're fifty cents, If yet git In line at the window." "I don't want to stand In line." The boy thrust the sp of paste board Into Wentworth's hand, seised the money, and fled to tako his place at the end of the lino which straggled round the corner from Broadway. Bnoch waited until a throng began to press Its way up the steps. He pulled his hat down close about his forehead and the rim fell to his ertsa. When ho reached out his hand to the attendant at the door, the man did not look at him; he was trying to stem tide of human beings and make cer tain that each one had paid his way. Wentworth movod Inside the door and glanced at the gray coupon, then lie passed to an end seat In the third row. He laid his hat upon the floor, pulled off his damp coat, and waited tor the curtain to rise. The curtain rose. People who sat close under the roof listened with a tense stillness, which was never dis turbed by the rustlo that occasionally ran through the orchestra. The story of the play had grown old, threadbare and uninteresting to Wentworth, but tt moved these men and women to the .quick. During the first act the girl beside him turned to her sweetheart and spoke In a tremulous whisper: "She's a cruel devil 1" Her eyes wero bent with hatred and corn upon Zllla Paget, who stood looking down at Merry. His guilt had been discovered. Ho sat besldo a table with his face hidden In his out stretched arms, while tho wife hurled upon him a torrent of bitter contumo ly. Once his body shook with a half stifled sob. Littlo Julio clasped his hand, but her terrified eyes were turned upon her mother. Wentworth had seen the woman In a towering passion; now sho 'throw herself Into the fury of hor role as sho had done tn real life, pacing tho floor llko a caged tiger. Sho paused at Merry's sldo half exhausted. "Think of the child." he pleaded miserably. "The child to perdition with the child!" Enoch stared at the rest of the play through moody eyes. When tho cur tain fell on tho second act Zllla Paget appeared on tho stage alone to moot uproarious applauso mingled with Jeers and hissing. Wentworth grlppod the arm of hts chair as ho watched hor Bweep tho house with a triumphant gaxo. A brand of hate which has tho red of murder in It tore at bis heart. He rose, tossed his coat across his arm, groped beneath the chair for his hat, then he slammed down tho Boat and went out On tho stair ho met an usher. "Mr. Wentworth," crlod the boy. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Mr. Oswald wants to see you in his office about some bookings." Bnoch descended without answering him. He paused once to push his arms Into his coat, but he did not entor the office; Instead, he turned and walked down Broadway. The rain had ceased, the sky was clear, and the stars were shining. He tramped on heedlessly. He realized suddenly that he was far down town in the business heart of tho city. Overhead hung the sign of an old-fashioned ho tel. Ho opened the swinging doors and walked to the desk. "I want a room," he said peremptor ily. "What price T" asked the clerk. "I don't give a damn about price. I want a room whero It la quiet, where there Is a good bed, and where I can sleep as If as If I wero dead." sufferer from InBomnta necks relief In on opiate. It did not bring ease, how ever, either of body or nilnd, He went about In a dull, half-sickened stupor, hating himself and tho world. Ono night, In a lonely room of the hotel where ho hod taken refuge, he sat In the darkness for hours thinking; then llko a flash ho saw himself. It seemed to him that for a second a shutter somowhere, perhaps In some remote lobe of his brain had flashed open and be saw not only his present con dition, but his future. It was not a pleasant phantom. A half-empty bottle of whiskey stood at his elbow. Ho stared at It for a minute with a scowl, w.. If it were an, actual enemy. A feeling of nausea crept over htm. He lifted It, carried It to the wash-bowl, and poured the liquor down tho drainpipe. Then he laid the empty bottlo on a tray and sot It outside the door. He filled his pipe'' with tobacco, pulled a chair to the window, sat down, and stared at the lights of the city. He fell Into ono of his Introspective moods. He began to trace backward every step ho had taken since tho day he exacted tho forfeit of Merry's bond. Ho felt llko a vessel which had slipped Its moorings and had been unmercifully buffeted by one tempest after another. Each one had done Its work so ruth lessly that ho was a human derelict left swamped and scuttled. The phrase "a human dorellct" stuck obstinately In his brain; It described him vividly. Already ho bad had more than his deserts. The vengeance of Zllla Paget was tho last straw. The woman's Image flashed before his eyes; he heard her satanlc laugh and saw a fleeting vision of his picturesque golden-haired lovliness as ho had slammed the door and left his homo. Wentworth gritted his teeth savage ly, then he looked at hts watch. It was close to midnight. He went downstairs, paid his bill, ordered a carriage, and drove to the Waverly Place house. As he stood fitting the key noiselessly Into the lock his heart beat tumultously for a second or two. He opened the door stealthily and passed through the vestibule. The house was still and a lamp burned dimly tn the hall, as Jason always left It until his master returned. He hung bis hat on the rack, stole upstairs to his own room, switched on the elec tricity, and glanced about. He locked yfri KwOf'flBsYfJlli llfelsr Ifsssf iBSrBBBsVni " 'I've Been Looking Everywhere for You." CHAPTER XXII. Facing the Situation. Enoch ' had never boon a drinking man. Tho sight of druukonness had frequently aroused in him a apoclos of Btomachlo revolt; thcroforo mora physical repulsion bad douo much to keep him from one form of dobauch ery. During tho days of utter deso lation that followed hla slater's de parture ho turned to whiskey as the the door and undressed swiftly. Ten minutes later he was sleeping the death-like sleep which follows com plete exhaustion of brain and body. Ho did not wake till noon. Jason answered his ring. The old negro en tered with hesitating steps. "Good morning," said his master. "Jason, do you know how a guest lives In a hotel when he wants to be alone, absolutely alone? Ho oats In his own room, his matl Is brought to him, he goes and comes without a word being spoken to him by anyone In tho bouse. You understand?" "Yasslr." "I wish to have that sort of service tn my home until your mlstreBB re turns, if It Is necessary, engage an other servant to look after your du ties. I want you to wait on mo ex actly as I havo explained. You can do It, Jobou?" "I'll be mighty glad to do It, Marse Enoch." Wentworth returned to tho theater and took up his duties as It nothing had happened. Hla associates greoted him with their usual courtesy; still ho felt as If a drop curtain had fallon between him and tho world whore his dally labor lay. Women and a few men shrank away from him even while they seemed trying to bo polite, some times kind. ZUIa Pagot mado no secret of hor cbango of residence. Sho flaunted the news of tt abroad and Wentworth's lapse -from tne conventionalities of life made a nine-days gossip In theatrical clrcleB. it even agitated moralities which had been esteemed lenient. The reason back of the Intensity of feeling was not, in overy case, shocked vlr tuo, but Dorcas was loved, while tho Englishwoman was held In universal contempt and hatred. It was several days after his return to business before Enoch met his sis ter. Ho heard In a casual way that sho had rented nn apartment and had taken AHco Volk with the two chil dren to live with her,. Their tlrst en counter was an ordeal to each one. They camo face to face In the foyer. Enoch said "Good morning" and held out hts hand. The girl held It for a second, looking up Into his face with eager wlstfulness. The ghost of a smile broke over Enoch's haggard face, then he glanced backward as tho glass door behind him slammed, and Zllla Paget camo rustling In. He turned brusquely and entered his office. Tho Jaded look in hts eyes had changed to shuddering hate. Dor cas passed out to Join the throng on D road way. Sho felt chilled and lonely. Sho did not realtze that the sun was shining. , CHAPTER XXIII. The Parting of the Ways. "All I have left to say, Wentworth, Is this we have come to a crossroad and you must chooso between two paths: either cut that woman out of your life or don't expect to take your placo among decent citizens." There was a look of discomfort and anxiety In Grant Oswald's pale, high bred face while ho spoke, although his voice was emphatic. Enoch did not answer. He movod restlessly In his chair once or twice, lifted a pro gram that lay on his desk, and ran his eyes through Its pages. Oswald paused as If waiting for a reply. "I can't understand your infatuation, Wentworth," he went on; "the woman degenerates every day of her life. God knows," a bitter tone crept Into his voice, "I feel culpable for even bringing her across the ocean. Then I ought to have let her go when I spoke of It a month or two ago. She was bound to do mischief, only I never dreamed that you would fall Into her clutches. I warned you." Enoch sat In sullen stillness, with his eyes fixed on a calendar which hung above the desk. "I wish," Oswald's tone was almost wistful, "that you would at least talk It over. I think I can deal with the woman if anyone can. I have always treated her with a certain stand-offishness that she resents. She has tried, more than once, to cross the line I drew. She didn't succeed, and It galls her. I never put Into words what I think of her. She understands, how ever, that I recognise her value dra matically, while personally to mo- she Is offensive. If she has you In her power, won't you tell me? It would never go beyond these walls. She knows that I know her story. Low as she has sunk, she realizes that it Is not what tho world would call a creditable story. I can handle her easily." A gleam of relief and hope drifted for a moment across Wentworth's face. Then he laughed nervously and the sullen frown returned to hts eyes. He rose and began to pace the office floor with nervous footsteps. "Won't you trust me?" pleadod Os wald. "I have a real regard, Went worth, for you as well as for your genius., I would do It for your sis ter, if for no other reason. There is time enough yet to pull away, nut," he spoke abruptly, "it won't be long. The woman has dragged more than one man to the gutter or to suicide." Wentworth laughed disagreeably. "Well, It won't be suicide," be an swered harshly. "Don't be too sure. When a man who has always had a fair amount of self-respect begins to lose it, he usu ally faces two alternatives; that Is, unless he has a solid anchor In bis home." Enoch lit a cigar and began to smoke. "Evidently It is useless to talk. What passes my understanding Is bow any man can turn out a woman like your sister to give alienor to Zllla Paget I hate to say It, Wentworth, you will sot mo down as a cad, but I prefer to have a separato office. I am willing to take the littlo back room, or you can. Ono suits me as well as the other." "Certainly." Wentworth leaped to his feet alertly. "I'll chango at onco. I'd hate to thrust my society upon anyone who does not care for It." "It Ib not your society I mean whol ly. I object to Miss Pagot dropping In hero as she did today. Don't hurry, I did not mean that " "I don't care what you meant. I can make the change at once." Enoch's voice was churlish. Ho began to drag volumes from the bookcase beside him and heap them upon the top of hlB desk. "You mado yourself tolerably plain, don't spoil It with politeness." He pulled the papers from pigeon holes In bis desk and tossed them about In looso piles, dropping some In the was'to basket and bundling oth ers together with rubber bands. Oswald's pen was traveling slowly across a sheet of paper when some one tapped softly at the door. Merry entered. Enoch did not turn his head. Tho actor seated himself beside Os wald's desk. "I could not show up this morning' when you 'phoned," ho explained. "I have been arranging for a funeral. It's ono of those funerals which have no great string of carriages." "Who'B dead?" "George Volk." Oswald lald'down bis pen and stared at Merry. "George Volk! When did ho drift back to America?" "Nobody seems to know anything about him. It's a mercy though; It sets Allco free." "Is there anything I can do?" "No. I'vo looked aftor everything. Hut I want your advlco on ono point. What do you think of not telling hor till ho Is burled?" "It's the best Wn. I supposed he had fallon pretty low," , "Low!" Merry shrugged his shoul ders. "I did not know such dives ex isted as the placo where I found him. Hn had been lying thcro soaked to the point of Insensibility for two weeks. Ho was too horrible a sight for the eyeB of any woman." "What au end!" exclaimed Oswald. "Tho man onco stood on n pinnacle tIKG Dropped an Armful of Books on' His Desk. that many an actor would give half a lifetime to win. He bad" The Englishman and Merry both looked up quickly. Wentworth had dropped an armful of books noisily on his desk. He opened the door which led to the Inner office, passed through, then slammed It sharply behind htm. CHAPTER XXIV. The Yellow Envelop. More than one "summer show" .had begun to blazon an alluring Blgn over tho door of a Broadway theater be fore "The House of Esterbrook" closed its season. The fame of the play had gone abroad through the country, and night after night, long after the resi dence part of New York showed a labyrinth of boarded fronts, every seat in the Gotham was sold before the curtain went up. The house was packed to the roof on the ntght the play closed. It was the mlddlo of June and the city bad grown uncomfortably hot Wentworth had spent a restless day. It seemed to him as it the atr was filled with an ticipation. Before the curtain fell on the last act he strolled through the darkened house and opened a narrow door be hind the lower boxes. A few shad owed steps led to the stage. A man stood Inside with his Angers moving over the buttons, which flooded the stage with light or shadow. Went worth pushed paBt him and walked swiftly behind the drops until he reached a corner which was compara tively deserted. He Btood Inside a wing, watching tho company take their curtain calls. Last' of all came Merry, alone. The Insistent applauBe Impor tuned a speech. Wentworth smiled grimly. Andrew's one terror was a speech. He saw the actor glance about him appeallngly, then his eyes signaled to the man who controlled the curtain. It began to descend with quiet deliberation. Merry paused for a moment, then he came back. "Ladles and gentlemen," he began, "I had hoped" While Wentworth stood listening he wondered why tho descent of the cur tain did not stop. He turned and whlB pored a command to the etagehand who stood beside him. The man's face was deathly white, he looked para lyzed with terror. In a second Enoch realized that something In the ma chinery bad lost Us grip. The house had grown still, while Morry stood smiling and talking in bis nonchalant fashion. A young man with a gleam ing expanse of shirt front rose from a lower box and Bet hlB foot upon the railing, preparing to climb over to 'the stage. A woman stood beside him clasping her bonds, and staring at Merry with horror-stricken eyes. Her face grew as white as the lace robe she wore. Then she shrieked, a long, shivering cry of terror. Enoch sprang toward the footlights with one swift leap, holding bis arm over his head as It to ward off tho heavy curtain, which was still descending. He seized Merry with a desperate grip and tossed the actor far back on the stage, then be fell with the ponderous cur tain across hla inert body. His closed eyeB wero facing the glare of tho foot lights. Dorcas and Merry, In a swift motor, reached tho Waverly Placo home be fore tho ambulance, and a famous sur geon came.closo at their heela. When tho operation was over they laid Wentworth upon hlB own bud. The surgeon stood looking down on tho unconscious faco. Blood was welling Blowly from tho wound on his fore head and made a wldo stain upon tho snowy bandago. Tho man turned to look at Dorcas: her mako-up lay In I smudges upon her faco and sho wore the bluo cotton gown which belonged to "Cordelia" In tho last act; her fin gers clenchod each othor, while she turned an Imploring gaze tt tbo quiet face of tho surgeon. "I do not know yet," ho whispered, answering the question In her eyes; "It Is too soon to tell. He lived through It, and It Is ono of those oper ations when tho patient does not al ways llvo." Somebody led her away. In a dazed fashion she knew that Allco Volk bathed her face and braided her hair Into two long strands and changed her stago gown for a soft kimono. Then Merry took her hand and she followed him to the library. Sho lay down upon u couch feeling as if every nerve In her body had au ear and It was listen ing. The house was perfectly still. Once in her mind she used that phrase, "Still as death." Afterwards she fell Into a shivering fit; the tears eumu, and sho Bobbed so fiercely that the agony Beemed to tear at her throat. From a shadowy corner near the fireside Merry roso and crept across the room. He dropped on his knees beside her and soothed hor without a word, as one broodB ovor an unhappy child. Tho warm grip In which he held her hand between his own gave her courage and hope. She rose to her feet and he led her to the window where she sat down and looked out Into the dark, quiet square. Out of her memory rose the thought of an early morning It was only a year ago when she hod seen Andrew Merry for tho first time, stretched listlessly on tho pmk bench, with a gray, thin fog occasionally blotting him from her sight. It was here, too, she had sat watching children scuffle through wind-blown leaves, while she heard her brother read tho manuscript of "The House of EBterbrook." Merry, sat silent at her Bide until the nurse entered the room. "Mlsa Wentworth," she said. "Dr. Mowbray wanta you. Your brother has been conscious for a tow minutes. He cannot speak, but he wants something. Will you come?" Thoy followed the woman swiftly. Enoch's eyes sought hers with piteous pleading which was almost agony. She rent to kiss him. His gaze traveled to Merry and the agony seemed to change to peace. "You saved his life, Enoch." she whispered. Andrew laid his Angers gently upon the nerveless hand which rested out side the sheet The eyes of the two men met: In those of one was a mute prayer for forgiveness. In the other's shone gratitude and the old affection grown steadfast Enoch's lips moved. He was trying to speak. Dorcas laid her ear close to his mouth. "He wants hts keys," she said quickly. The nurse left the bedside and re turned with a bunch of small keys strung upon a steel ring. Dorcas laid them in her brother' hand. It was pitifully inert! She lifted them and ran them through her fingers, one by one, as a Catholic tells her beads In a rosary. Her gaze was fixed upon his eager eyes. When she touched a shin ing brass key a gleam of relief shone in tho man's beseeching eyes. She rose to her feet "1 will go at once, Enoch, and And it. 1 shall know what you want, what ever tt Is, and will bring It to you." Tho doctor followed Merry and Dor cas to'tho door. "Don't come back un less I send far you. The exertion has been too much for htm." "TMb Ib the key to a small drawer In Enoch's desk." explained the girl. "I can probably guesB what he wants. I ought to show It to him. If his mind Is so: on something he may sleep quietly when he knows I have found It." "I will call you If bo does not sleep," said the doctor. Merr7f walked to tho window and stared vaguely Into the darkness. A little clock on the mantel struck three. Once he looked over his shoulder at Dorcas. He could hear the crackle of stiff paper as she unfolded a few long, narrow sheets which were tied In a thin bundle. "I have found Enoch'B will and a number of business papers. Here are his bankbooks and the contract with Oswald for the play. There are bonds and things of that sort things I do not understand. I imagine," the girl's voice broke Into a sob, "It must be the will he wants." "Probably, It Ib, dear," said Andrew gently. She laid the papers on the desk ar.d lifted a yellow envelope. Thore was no writing upon it; It was unsealed. She took out a slip of pa per and stood motionless while she read It. Then her fingers moved In a groping way to turn on a blaze of electricity undo the green globe above the desk. "Tho room 1s bo dark." she mur mured. She dropped the paper upon the blotter In front of her and leaned upon the desk with be face between her hands. "Andrew," cried Dorcas with a stifled moan, "come berel" He crossed the room and stood looking down over the girl's shoulder. "See," she whispered, "see what I have found! Tell me what Is It?" Her fingers pointed to the bond. She stretched out her band as If search ing for protection and help. The man clasped It between his own, thon she raised her eyes to his. "Was It this, Andrew, this that lay behind everything that mado you glvo up your play and " Merry's lips parted, but ho did not speak. Dorcas glanced at the date. Sho withdrew her hands from hla and put her fingers across hor eyes as It trying desperately to remombor Boma thing. (TO BK CONTINUED.) To Control Health The stomach is the controlling power in til matters pertaining to health. This important organ often needs help in its daily work and it is then you should try HOSTETTERS STOMACH BITTERS Reverse Method. "What did his wife do?" "She nailed him on the spot, and then Bhe hammered him." Natural History. "You can't hear a rreo's bark. "You can't, but a dogwood." Banl more American. Important to Mothers Examine carefully every bottle ot CASTORIA, a safo and sure remedy for infants and children, and see that It Ttonrn ttio Signature of CJLjt(rT&1iri In Use For Over 30 Years. Children Cry for Fletcher's Castora Preferred the Lesser Evil. "What are you going to bo wbec you grow up, Jennie?" "I'm going to be an old maid." "An old maid,, dear! Why?" '"Cause I don't think I'd llko to klsB a man a hundred times and tell him ho's handsome every timo I do shopping. I'd rather earn money and buy things for myself." Carelessness Cause of Fires. More than 50 per cent of all fires the coused by simple carelessness, which Is unnecessary and criminal. Repairs to dilapidated buildings, the removal all flre-breedlng material, care in burn lug weeds and rubbish, the placing of engines at a safe distance from build ings, the removal, of oily waste, proper ventilation In brief, plain common sense, will minimize tho danger from this class of fires. Musical Note. "Why Is the scholarly-looking man slamming down his windows sc hard?" "I will tell you why the scholarly looking man is slumming down his windows so hard." "Tho scholarly-looking man la slamming down hts windows so hard becauso the hurdy-gurdy out in front Is playing the same tuneB that he paid five dollars to hear last night al grand opera." Judge. The Tango In Church. Mother, like countless other moth ers, had been doing much tangoing and hesitation ot lute. She had taken dancing lessons. She practised the various stops at home withfathoi. Lit tle Frances bad heard much of the lingo that goes with the tango and tho hesitation. She knew all of tho phrases. A few days ago Frances went to church with her mother. Frances had not learned all of the ceremonials of the church, for, after tho mother knelt outside the pew, Frances looked up at her and whispered: "Mother, what did you do the dip for?" Indianapolis News. .im.iigg"aggir wi ,. .'!, ,, . Delays Sometimes Expensive Business or social en gagement just a few minutes for lunch can't wait for service. What can be had quickly? Order Post Toasties with fresh berries or fruit and' cream. They will be served immediately, they are nourishing and taste mighty good, too. Sold by Grocers ' everywhere! 1 b. .;,". t ..!, '-JS-A- -..! 1 ff. V.. i .1V Jt H- Ai ! . tj f .it I. &-l 'iiu W'W&ywWV& "ifui-"' Aft '& I ixttVLS vU