Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The Omaha morning bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 1922-1927 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 17, 1922)
,, The Room on the Roof <('«ntlnued From F»«e Three.) P\f Will PdJf'flS I to the asphalt and climb Into the limousine. I know you better than you know yourself. Romance isn't your mil V- You'll come back to the asphalt." Harwood thought It unnecessary to do more than smile and say. "Per haps.” He by no means wished to argue. "She's taken In by the money,” Mrs. Belknap pursued evenly. "A country kid In a city candy shop— eyes popping. You've told her she can have the whole shop if only she'll stay inside all her life. She’s tickled pink with the proposition now. but you know how long that’ll last. After one good gorge she'll loathe candy. Lollypops by the ton wouldn't keep her. A quite ex emplary young woman, I hear—re spectablly brought up in a village cottage, on cottage cheese and a vil lige dance once in six months; no afTairs at all. That's all th > worse, you know. She hasn't had her turn at the main table yet. and they say she's trade marked for that. As soon as she understands that she s ■ missing it, your work’ll he cut out. If she's already had a divorce and a black eye or two it might answer. But her poods won't swop on even terms for any candy you can give her until they've been well shelf worn. Apparently she's still in the original package. Those unspoiled young appetites are very vigorous. You’ll be busy filling the tray until she says, 'Now I'll have some of that*—with a finger to the main table where your credit isn't good.” Mrs. Belknap laughed, not ,unme lodiously. "I foresee a pleasant ttime for you.” He had expected, when he started for this house, that liu was going to have a disagreeable time, and had made up his mind to face it. But the time was more disagreeable than he had anticipated. He per ceived now that she was stung to strong anger and letting herself go. A woman of vulgar manners would have shouted and gesticulated. Her manners were different, but it came to pretty much the same thing. "I hate to see it, too," she went on with that cool, candiil manner. "I don't know why I should be fond of you, but I am. You look so awful sensible, Nat, and yet you really aren't. Paradoxes are al ways interesting. I knew you had no sense about business, for ex ample; but I rather liked you for that. I'm almost the only first rate business man I know who's first rate at anything else. I didn't mind your making ducks anil drakes of the Cutter money, but if you make ducks and drakes with the other hand, too. it'll be an aw ful mess.” He shrank and winced from that —behind a faintly smiling face. Surely Let ilia was building a hot fire under him—placing the fag gots, with uneanny accuracy, just where they would burn deepest. That is, by bringing up the Cutter money. He knew well enough that there are many ranks, or castes, in the hierarchy of finance, and that it is characteristic of those in any one caste to exchange confidences freely about those in castes below. Among themselves the dukes dis missed the affairs of the barons with the greatest freedom and the bar ons likewise talked over the affairs ’of the knights. He was only a baron, really, while Mrs. Belknap belonged to the ducal rank. 11c could fairly hear Bryam Holt, chairman of the Consolidated bank, or John Tillitson saying casually to Mrs. Belknap, "Yes, Harwood’s been getting in wrong lately on so and so and so"—with full details. That was vinegar to the rawest spot in his pride—his essential inferior Ity to the dulcos of finance. lie was penetrated by the idea that Letitia knew all about his financial misadventures. But Mrs. Belknap was tossing another handful of fag gots on the fire: "I knew Muthihle very well. That's why she and 1 would get on like two peas in a pod. She lias great respect for me. Matliilde in herited a great deal of her charac ter from tier grandfather Cutter. She isn’t sentimental. She'll lie wanting to know one of these days.” That was all, hut it was enough. Mathilde, of course, was the legal owner of two-thirds of that Cutt<% money which he had made ducks and drakes of. In due time she would want to know exactly what became of it. i'or at least two years Harwood had been mourn fully aware that his daughter was capable of making no end of a row if her will was crossed. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. "Truly 1 am. I hope you’ll forgive me. All I can say is. 1 never meant it— it just happened.” She took a moment to absorb that repetition. Her dark eyes— which were about all that remained of former beauty—scrmed to soflen somewhat—her tone subtly changed also: "You've made me look such a fool. LiCtitiA Belknap, aged 44. weighing 16S, in the role of lorn maiden, jilted by her lover! You can't wonder It amuses all my friends so much. 1 suppose we all have to be fools about something. Maybe 1 was a fool about you. "I meant to marry again, for 1 found that not having a husband was a worse bore than having one. You pleased me much better than anybody else. I think lt'H because you're such a nice boy—always bright and pleasant and wonder fully sensible—and yet without having much sense at bottom. I could look around behind ami sec that you were just a nice boy playing at being wonderfully sen sible." She laughed with a kind of fondness. "You pleased me much' better than anybody else. I didn’t want any beautiful colt, to get dotty over und finally have my ribs kicked in for my pains. I wanted a good partner. We were both honest about it—neither ?if us quoting Romeo and Juliet that we’d looked up in the book half an hour before. Her dark eyes held his, with com posed power, for a moment, and she added: "It was all honest. If you've decided to toss it in the waste bas ket, there's nothing more to be said. But you’ll get into a mess with this girl. For one thing you like money tremendously, but haven't the knack of getting it. At any rate, 1 could do that for you.” lie perceived that she was, ten tatively. holding open a door—or. at least, indicating where the door was. She was ready—he felt sure— to renew the betrothal. Kindly, bnt with decision, he laid: “It's settled, Letitia. I wouldn't be honest with you if I said less. I've treated you badly, and I’m sot* ry, but I’d be treating you worse if I didn't say now that it's settled." That seemed final enough, and she so accepted it, waiting only a moment, then rising and saying in a tone as composed and polite as that with which she greeted him: "Then there's nothing more to be saiS except good-bye. It would be pleasanter if I could get out of town for this winter. But I'm no good at running away. I’ll stay and face the music. If you hear that I’ve acted like a cat here and there, you'll know why. Thev'll presently give up scratching me." She wfas smiling a little as she said it. "* Harwood's position was intensely uncomfortable. He’d let her in—a proud woman—for a humiliating ex perienee. Fatuously he mumbled: "Oh, yes; they'll soon give it up. I’m sorry.” With a vague little smile he held out his hand. A mo ment later he was fleeing from her. aware that he'd cut a sorry figure. He got himself out of the house. After all, the great thing was to get it over with, and he had got it over with! It hadn’t been well done, with one clean, sure stroke; he was leaving the victim a good deal man gled and still writhing. Some sense of that was in his mind as he brisk ly crossed Betltia’s lawn. Yet the tiling was done; and that was what mattered most. There was uneasiness in his mind, also. Lctltia's dark, steady eyes at the moment of parting sort of haunted him. It seemed to him that something satirical and Inimical had lurked in them. Was she, perhaps, meditating some vengeance upon him? He was aware that he had on exposed flank—first in the matter of that money of his daughter's which he had made ducks and drakes of, and for which he was legally accountable; second, in his immediate financial position. lie had taken an option on some motion picture stock; he owed the Con solidated Bank a hundred and forty thousand dollars. Letitia Belknap might launch an pttack on that ex posed flank—for example, by stil ling up the Sam Cutters to stir up Mathilde to ask for an accounting; or through Bryam Holt, chairman of the Consolidated Bank. Letitia had many strings in her hands; she might make it very uncomfortable for him just at this moment when his affairs wore so unsettled. He might have temporized with her—in vulgar words, •‘strung hoi along" in respect of Bess. But lie got consolation in the reflection that he had acted as honorably as the circumstances permitted. And, of course, Letitia wouldn't atack that exposed flank—that would be too low! How she had lit into him, though, flaying him in her cool way! That gave him a new idea of what life with Letitia might have been like! She'd let him alone*now. By the time he reached his own house his sanguine temper was painting the picture to his taste. She'd lpt him alone. This afternoon's talk would be the last of it. He felt, however, bruised and wounded from that talk in which finally he’d cut a sorry figure. But the great consolation was near at hand—the anodyne that drowned all humiliations and disappointments. He telephoned to Bess; could she come for a little ride? Once more the miracle worked. She was ready at the hotel door when his ear drew up at the curb. She came tripping down the steps, radiant, her eyes sparkling into Ids eyes as they shook hands on the sidewalk. He handed her Into the car, and as he sat close be side her the bewitching fragrance of youth and beauty enveloped him. It seemed to hint her charm had never been so potent) and noth ing else mattered. Bet Betitia go Imng! She was gay during the rule—for one tiling telling him again all about the pictures. She went to his house with him for tea and stayed to dinner. She had never before been so close to him, never quito poured herself out to hint so freely, never before so sweet, with swift, thrilling little touches of ten derness that were new to him. It seemed as though she wished, this evening, to let him know what be ing loved by her was really like. •She had, in fact, been thinking it over. Always there bad been a certain reserve in regard to him— as though they might kiss only by rote, with due propriety. There was hy no means an overwhelm ing compulsion In her feeling for him—by no means a passionate abandon. She was fond of him: . felt sure she quite loved him—sen sibly, with decorum. She had been thinking ail that over. She was going to marry him. He was giv ing her very much. And there was going to be no cheating about it; she was going to make it all up to him as much as lie could wish. Something like that—thought out and resolved upon—gave her man ner toward him this new color of the rose. She even looked around the house with a somewhat different sense of it. Heretofore she had pretty frank ly coveted it. The thought of being the mistress of this handsome place, and all the accessories that went with it, fluttered her breast very much as the discovery of a gold mine migh* have done. Tonight she was trying to see the house, not as her acquisition, but as a partner ship. The sweeter charm carried liai wood beyond himself. Sitting be side her in the library, before a grate fire, he felt an exultation at once tender and fierce. Betitia Bel knap might indeed go hang! The pictures and the fortune and the drive might all go hang! He would take her against all the world and exult. It was the highest moment of his life. There was a little breath less uncertainty in his voice as lie said: ‘‘When shall it be, Bess?" Obviously hg meant their mar riage. She looked back at him with • lear eyes and answered simply; “Whenever you wish.” It might he next week, then, or in a fortnight. But something whis pered in his ear. No desperate hur ry; there was the exposed flank; an nouncement of an engagement now might stir Betitia to action. Even for Bess’ own sake lie must be rea sonably prudent. "Thanksgiving?” he asked. "Yes,’’ she said, readily. That was six weeks away; his affairs would be in impregnable or der then. Next morning lie went down to the office In high impatience to see for himself those two pictures of which Bess had spoken so enthusi astically. But two hours passed be fore Krom came leisurely into the cabinet. Harwood would have gom upstairs with him at once, but Krom said it would take a quarter of an hour to prepare the apparatus, put up the shutters and fo on; the lawyer might ns well wait until the show was ready. When Harwood did go upstairs Hie room was prepared as when Bess liad seen the pictures. lie took the chair in front of the pro jecting machine, to which Krom pointed ;the two views that Bess had talked of were thrown on the screen. The spectator watched with hot satisfaction. There were, In deed, the fresh, vivid natural col ors and the effect of depth ami roundness which one sees in stere oscope views. But lie was disap pointed; te two views that Bess came to an end—only five or six minutes, he thought; a few hun dred feet of film. Krom, turning on the electric lights again, explained that: "What we wanted was to be sure we had it right, you know We're just as sure With a thousand feet of film as we would he with a million." "I'd like to take a picture up in Lincoln park now." Harwood sug gested eagerly; "get this autumn foliage ,in,l (he ears and so on." Kroin said nothing to that, hut began opening the window blinds. It struck Harwood that there was something especially unsatisfactory about the fellow tins looming— something phlegmatic and sullen, like a man deeply irritated, lie had stepped over and shut the door be hind Harwood as soon us the law yer entered tho room. "Could wo do that this after noon?” Harwood persisted, at Krom's back. ”1 Jotta fix the patent, first thing," Kroin grumbled, without turning around—he was opening tho blinds at another of the high, round win dows. "Something I want to talk to you about." Harwood wished to retort impa tiently, "Hurry up then! Never mind those shutters." Hut lie was naturally a patient man and cour teous. so he merely remarked, "I've an engagement at a quarter to twelve.” It was then twenty-five minutes past eleven. Harwood was thinking, "If you wanted to talk to me why didn't you get to tho office earlier. But ho kept tlint to himself. Having opened tin blinds at three of tho windows, Kroin crossed the room and shut (iff the electric lights —still something phlegmatic and sullen alxiut him, Harwood thought. He then took a further step and made sure the door was closed. That done, he swung a chair near to Harwood's and Bat down—with deliberation. The eye with the cast in it seemed especially to iix itself upon the lawyer with a sort of fishy stare. "The invention's done now,” the inventor began slowly. "You can see that yourself, if you want to hurry things along you ran use the apparatus we already got for mod els—send 'em down to Washington with the applications for patents— wind it all up in a few days.” "No doubt,” said Ilarwood, to bin ry him along. Hut Krora was not to be hurried. He reflected, put his paint up to his smooth cheek, looked gravely down and gravely up agni.i before, he said: ‘T want to sell out to you for ■ ash. I gotta dig out of this.” Harwood was half amused add half annoyed. "Plenty of cash a soon as we get the patents,” he it plied lightly. "Royalties and ill that,” Ivroni returned. "Take a long while to get all that going. 1 want to sell out for cash. I gotta get away.” "Why?” Harwood afked, with a faint smile. Krom put a hand up to his brow with an unusual gesture, and was silent a moment: then again the eye with the east in it seemed especially to fix itself, upon the lawyer. I had some bad luck," lie said deliberately. "I killed Str-inman up at Slow River last Tuesday night." He gave a sign, but his ttee was composed: while Harwood, with a thrill of horror, stared'at him. “Of course. I didn't mean to." Krotn explained, looking at the floor. "But 1 might as well tell you, first as last, because you'll be wanting Steinnmn'a signature—I suppose; wanting him to sign the patent applications and fixing tip the contracts and so on. So I might as well tell you. first as last.” As Harwood stared he thought. “The fellow is lying!” Yet there was no real conviction in the thought—only a catch at a straw. "It was an accident.” Krotn re peated, eyes to floor. "It wouldn't have happened, only I was drunk at the time. We'd got it finished. It was all done, you see. Of course, 1 felt good over that. I had half a case of whisky left up there—in the cellar. I inherited a taste for liquor. Every re often I go on a bat. I was drinking all the afr> i noon, steady. “Steinman, you know, was a nut - aside frorh inventions. He was more like a monkey than any man I ever heard of. Childish about a lot ctf things—no more nerve’n a rabbit. You see, he'd got it In his nut about old man Curlin; thought Ourlin’d lie sure to kill him. Gui lin did come up there and broke into the factory one day—scared Steinman stiff. 1 told you about it." lie looked gravely up at Harwood for confirmation, and the lawyer nodded. His lips felt dry. "Well, now that we'd got the in volition done, Steinman was nut tier'n ever .about Curlin—hadn't anything *ise to thtik about, you see. So I told him to skip up to Saginaw and stay a couple of weeks until we got the patent nil fixed up and then he could got to Germany if he wanted to. Anything to keep him quiet, you see. lie agreed to that before dinner. He bad kind of a Curlin fit on. I went over to bis boarding house and got his dinner for him so he wouldn’t have to go outside. And I was going to drive him up to Valley City In the • ' • ning, who re be rould take a train. We had it all fixed up." In the pause that followed Kioto again audibly drew breath a long, sighing Inhalation. Again he shifted liis glance from (be floor to th. law* > er'« face. "It made me sure as hell all that silly fuss about old Curlin. I'd l>een arguing with Steinman all after* noon. 1 kept looking good mitured, but it was making mo sore as hell— so unreasonable, you know And Steinman looking so much like a monkey. I„ong about half past . ight lie broke out all over again when it was pretty near time to start. "What he wanted all along was t« go to Curlin and buy him off—tell him we'd got the Invention and we was going to settle up with him— w hatever was fair. Then he thought Curlin would let him alone. He was an nwful coward—Steinman was—wanted to buy him off. bribe him to be good. Of course I knew well enough that if Curlin ever got liis mitts on the invention, or knew where it was, he’d raise the devil. Well, ns 1 say, long about half past eight Steinman broke out all over again—about going to Curlin. I'd been drinking right along. He said 1 wasn't sober enough to drive the car to Valley City. He was bob bing around—in one of his tits agin, * pawing his whiskers ad sputtering away in Hint lingo of his. Just an < ld idiot, bobbing around -wouldn’t go to Slow River.” Krom again studied the floor a moment and looked haek to the lawyer. "It happened all of a sudden—Ilka a flash. It wouldn’t have happened if 1 hadn’t been drunk, or if lie had n't look'd so much like a damned old monkey. I'd finished a bottle, you see. and I tapped him on ths —head with it. All In a flash. It was all so ridiculous, you see. I gave lufd a crack with the bottle. What tile hell" and bing! like that."’ Ho "ado no gesture as he d< s< rib. d it, his hands lying in his lap. Hut he now moved a hand in order to lay a linger at the base of Ids skull, back of his car. "It caught hint right there. Prob tltly I hit harder than I realized. I suppose the old man s skull was bind of soft, or brittle. Some peo ple have skulls like that. In a minute I saw he fas dead as a door nail—like a stroke of lightning. Naturally it sobered me up. 1 told you we took something out of Pur lin's simp when we left there last spring. What we took v.<s a cam era. It really wasn't wortli a damn, but the old man thought it was great stuff; and lie might use le, you see, to make trouble—starting lawsuits over the patent and so on. k I thought we d better have it, so I * took .t away, it was a thing, pretty near as big as a shoebox. "I'd had it in the cellar up there at .Slow lUver—under that mess of broken-up crates and stuff. Hut after Curlin and young Whiteside broke into the factory tliat day I buried it. So 1 dug it up and put Steinman in the trunk and buried him in the celler. It's just a dirt floor you know. You can dig any where. ’’Anil now you see, how it all turns out. Steinman ami 1 had planned to go away. I told ’em at the hoarding house we-were going away, and 1 told Peter Green. Everything was fixed for it in ad vance. 1 don't know: a man s brain •Ices queer things sometimes May be knowing that everything was ail fixed up for 't in advance was some where or other in my mind when I hit him that lick with the ffottle. You never Can tell." He seemed to ponder that psychologies poln^ a moment, and again drew a long sighing broth, and concluded, grave ly: "Well, anyway, that's the way it stands, ami you can see why I want to get settled up with you and clear out of here right away. They've got a ’ot of curiosity in those little towns. They may be prying around Any day and find something. I ain's satisfied—en tirely—about Peter Green. Maybe lie's got something on his mind about Steinman I gotta get away yon sec." (To lie Continued.) (Copyright, ISC2.) The boiling point of lead is 1000 degrees C„ that of water 100 de giees C, that of carbon dioxide SO degrees C . and that of air. 252 de grees C. A new copper process makes it possible to weld together iron and steel parts. The copper penetrates into the fine pores of the iron and forms a firm weld. A machine has been invented that automatically cuts and dips Ice .•ream bars in chocolate sauce. Th(T machine has a capacity of nearly 12,000 bars in eight hours An English chemist claims to have invented a method for render ing airplanes useless as weapons of war. With a huge benm of fire, his discovery, it was said, will dissolve the steel structure of a plane aa high ns five miles in the nir.