The Omaha guide. (Omaha, Neb.) 1927-19??, July 16, 1932, ILLUSTRATED FEATURE SECTION, Image 5
I The Finest Writers I I Send Their Stories II First to the Illus | trated Feature w B. C*.. MM* Df<rbtr« SU Cbi vr f I >OT D A TPTA V!' A TI ’PI*' QE'PTIAV i i' i (\>>0 Hi t’*' RIBBON FICTION IS FOI’NO KVIHI WKI K IN Rr|.rrsr«t*|«Te* lLLlMKAlhU TI A 1 L Kh MU l UFA- JUIJT ID, HM- TNK mTIRK SECTION _ ..- « 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