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By E. R- BENNETT
It was. their first meeting in the
old home town after a lapse of
twenty years.
The three of them were seated
in the cozy library, in the lovely
home of the one who had remained
an3 lived there.
The other two had returned be
cause of the celebration of the
city's centennial, as thousands of
others of the city's sons had done
in • response to the cordial and
pressing invitation of the mayor
and city fathers, which had been
broadcast far and wide.
These three had been chums from
boyhood. They had attended gram
mar and high schools together and
had separated for the first time,
when each one had gone ts a dif
ferent college.
They were men now, successful
men in the different professions
each had followed. They were men
in their early forties; healthy, up
standing specimens of good living,
well-tailored, urbane, socially con
tent gentry, whose very counte
nances beamed satisfaction with
life in general, also with each one’s
personal, individual lot in particu
lar.
One was a minister—tne neverenu
Barton Robbs. He was married and
every whit content with his prolific
mate, who continued to present an
increase to the interesting, grow
ing family, every other year.
Another was a physician—Dr.
Tankey Rissmore. He was married
also, but was such a devotee to
“birth control” that, after nine
years of connubial bliss, there was
yet to be the first addition to his
household.
-The third member of the trio
was a lawyer—William Lawton. He
had remained a bachelor and was
the only one of the three who ap
parently suffered no qualms of
conscience in depriving some good
woman the privilege of sharing his
bed and board, together with the
ample, physical comforts of life,
which he v’as in such splendid cir
cumstances tc give.
To many, this would seem a
strange method of existence for one
who was so highly favored by Dame
Fortune. But, as always, there was
a real reason for Lawton's prefer
ence, even fanatic devotion to a
state of single blessedness. In his
case it was the sad death, after a
lingering illness, of the girl to whom
he was engaged.
lne inree irwiius wcic
snug and comfortable in the deep,
upholstered chairs, chatcing and
reminiscing to their heart's content.
The two married ones almost mo
nopolizing the conversation, bubbled
over with excitement as they re
cited incident after incident; funny,
serious, mysterious and otherwise,
of their experiences in the married
estate. Lawton, however, sat com
placent, smiling quietly, content in
dropping an occasional word or two
or in adding -i few sentences once
in a while to the fund of reminis
cence and generous tattling.
The two chatterboxes realized al
most at the same instant that they
were carrying the full load of con
versation.
One would think it was planned
between them—the suddenness of
the turu in their converse. As one.
they questioned, bantered good na
turedly. and even chided, Lawton
about his single mode of existence.
Lawton countered, calmly at first,
then with vehemence at times, as
the logic and argument of the teas
ing duo waxed insistent, hot, and
persuasive.
Finally he seemed to yield as he
told them he desired to make a
confession. Immediately they so
bered. grew gentle and tensed with
expectancy.
In a low, calm tone, his power
ful. pleading voice held as in leash.
Lawton began—
"You wonder why it is my irre
vocable decision never to marry? It
is due to several reasons.
"First, in a physical sense, mari
tal ambitions have dried up and
withered in my amorous conscious
ness. The 'Font of Love’ is an
empty pool within my broken
heart.
“You boys are familiar with much
of my tragic experience in the
realm of love. Why compel a re
cital of these and remembrances
at this time? But I forgot! You
have never heard the true story in
detail. Listen carefully, for I speak
in dead earnest.
I regard myself as being a mar
ried man. Yes, as much married
as either of you. In a certain sense,
a much higher and loftier ma.
riage than either of you car boast,
for I am married in spirit, to a
spirit.
“Don’t become startled at my ex
planation. To me it all seems per
fectly natural in a spiritual way,
for I have devoted much time to
a serious study of spiritualism for a
goodly number of years. I am still
deeply interested in the study oi
psychic phenomena. In fact, psy
chic research has become my pet
hobby and has been for a lor.g time
With your understandnig of this
attitude of mine, you will grasp
more readily the significant facts
in what I am about to say
“I am giving you my main rea
son now, also the story whim ex
plains it.
“Both of you remember Mildred
Tompkins, do you not?’’
Both friends gave emphatic and
vigorous avowals.
"Why, yes! Certrinly we remem
ber her very distinctly. Why should
we not? How forget her when she
wros your fiancee?’’ said one end
then the other
Lawton continued in a voice as
soothing as a mother's to a fretful
baby:
' Then you recall easily, what a
dear, sweet person she was. Yes,
she was beautiful, beautiful in fea
tures and character. A girl who
was a real chum, also an inspira
tion to a man.
“Mildred and I r/ere sweethearts
from early childhood days. Then,
we played at love, but it was real
love just the same. As we grew
in age, size and knowledge, this
enduring love and affection for
each other grew, expanded and de
veloped into a perfect case. Body,
soul and spirit were wrapped to
gether in an ecstacy of mutual ad
miration, which was mothered by
a contented understanding.
“You spoke of her rnst now as
having. been my fiancee. You will
recall also how our engagement was
prolonged because of the stress of
circumstances. It was a hard fight
I was making then against ob
“Boys, meet my wife! My one true enduring love—*
Mildred, my spirit bride.”
stacle?, which, at times, threatened
to overwhelm me.
‘‘Yet, I was a devoted lover, while
a struggling young attorney. How
much I stinted, sacrificed and
saved, for the approaching day of
my marriage, was common knowl
edge among all my friends and ac
quaintances.
“Then at last success came.
“It came with a rush and came
with plenty of fame and money. It
was my successful prosecution and
winning of the ‘Le Mar Will Case'
which landed me securely on the
‘Success Road.’”
Dr. Rissmcre drew his chair
closer, touched Lawton gently on
his knee and asked him apologeti
cally:
"Pardon my interrupting you,
Will. But—may I request a little
enlightenment on the 'Le Mar Will
Case?’ I cannot seem to recall it.
Just the bare facts will do, if you
don't mind.”
“Certainly, Tankey,” fame the
ready reply from Lawton. “I shall
be glad to refresh your memory, for
you must have heard of it at the
time. It was heralded far and wide,1
even appearing on th. magazine!
page Of the AFRO AMERICAN.”
“‘The LeMar Will Case.’ as it
was called, involved a three-hun
dred-thousand-dollar cash inheri-l
tance, with property and jewelry
besides, which totalled an equal;
amount. This fortune I was for
tunate in saving and saw it placed
into the hands of the rightful heirs,
winning for myself a very hand
some fee, along with their grati
tude and friendship.
“Jean Le Mar. a Frerchman by
birth, came to this country in his
early manhood. He was a dealer
in antiques. His firm did a large
business among the wealthy, who
paid fabulous prices. Le Mar be
came rich. All these years he posed
as a bachelor, lived frugally, was
never mixed up in any scandal
among the feminine gender. He
had poor health in his later years,
however. So while in a despondent
mood one day, he blew out his
brains. The act was a fearful
shock to the c. y.
“He left no will; that is, no le
gal document disposing of his
wealth. His partner produced what
he claimed was an agreement made
between them, stating that which
ever of them survived the other's
death, that one should inherit the
other's share. This paper was not
legally drawn, neither was it wit
nessed.
“Naturally, there . was a search
made for heirs. Numerous were the
claimants, all proved false in the'
course of time.
“Le Mar's partner pressed his
claims, swearing he had never
heard during the twenty years of
i his close association and partner
1 ship, Le Mar mention marriage, or
speak of having any living heirs or
relatives.
It was due to Mildred's fine
memory more than anything else,
that I was given the lead which
led to victory she recalled that
there was a French girl of that
name in college at the same tune
she was there, though not in the
same class. I started a thorough
investigation, following the various
clues as they opened up. m st as
siduously and with increasing vigor.
I was on the right track.
“I sent a detective *o France,
who secured copies of all the es
sential papers, properly certified
and signed by the French authori
ties. The; e proved Le Mar's mar
riage to a brown West Indian; the
birth of two children, a boy and a
girl; the death of his widow the
coming of the children to America.
There had been no divorce
"The presenting of these docu
ments. together with the living
heirs in person, clinched the verdict
in my favor. We won.
"From the court house I hurried
just as soon as I had been able to
escape the handshakes and con
gratulations which came from the
judge, lawyers, attendants, specta
tors and everybody. How I hur
ried the legal formalities and got
; away at last, after what seemed
; ages, comes back to me now
riee at last. I was on my way
to Mildred with laurels of victory
resting on my brow. I wanted to
tell her that all hindrances were
removed; that we could marry at
once; that she could set the date
as early 's she pleased.
“It was not to be.
“Boys, the hour of our victory
struck also the first stroke of our
defeat.”
* • •
A knock came at the library door.
Lawton ceased speaking, r:se from
his chair and opened it. His onf>
servant stood with a well-filled
tray. \
“Bring it in, John,” Lawton said,*
as he held the door wide. “Many
thanks for remembering. But f^r
you. my guests must think me a
very poor Lost, or at least a stingy
one.”
John entered, placed the tray ’of.
viands on the library table, left the
room, and returned with a box or
cigars and matches.
After serving the gentlemen until
each said “enough.” he Tilled tiieir
glasses from a bottle of rare vin
tage, passed the cigars and lighted
each in turn. ,
As he removed the tray of empty
dishes, the attorney halted Mm by
saying:
joim, you neea not trouoie any
more tonight. Don't wait up. We
three intend to make a night of
it.”
John bowed and replied: “Ale you
certain there is nothing further,
Sir?”
' Well, you may bring in a bowl
of cracked ice. That will be all, I
think.” the lawyer made answer.'
The servant did this shortly after,
then retired.
' I, enjoyed that repast," remark
ed the physician, "How about you,
Barton?*
“Immensely,” the minister re
plied. "although I regretted the in
terruption of friend William's re
Continued on Page Two t
