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HUE IARGUS, TUESDAY, J ULY 11, li)08.
Copyright. J906. by
! How far a man's natural incli
nation toward evil may carry him,
despite the fact that his wrong
doing invoives the wrecking of
the happiness of his only son, is
well shown in this story of Chi
cago, the Philippines and New
York: The talc 13 not all one of
evil, however. In it figure also
love and romance, daring and
danger, patriotism and the self
sacrificing if mistaken devotion
of the Filipino to his country's
cause. Our narrative is essen
tially one of modern times, and
its characters or their originals
walk the streets of American
cities today, but their actions and
the story of their loves and hates
recall with distinct force the
scenes and persons depicted by
Dickens. Especially is this true
of Elia3 Droom, the elderly law
yer's 'clerk, who is worthy of
comparison with any one to be
found in the pages of the Eng
T was a bright, clear after
noon in the late fall that
pretty Miss Cable drove
up in her trap aud waited
at the curb for her father
to come forth from his of
fice An one of Chicago's tallest build
ings, The crisp, caressing wind that
came up the street from the lake put
the pink into her smooth cheeks, but it
did not disturb the brown hair that
crowned her head. Well groomed and
the box, her gloved hand grasping the
yellow reius firmly and confidently.
Miss Cable looked neither to right nor
to left, but at the tips of her thoroughbred'-
ears. Slender and tall and very
aristocratic she appeared, her profile
alone visible to the passersby.
After a very few moments' waiting
in her trap the smart young woman
became impatieut. A severe little
pucker settled upon her brow, aud not
once, but many times, her eyes turned
to the broad entrance across the side
walk. She had telephoned to her fa
ther earlier in the afternoon, and he
had promised faithfully to Ik? ready at
4 o'clock for a spin up the drive behind
Spartan. At three miuutes past 4 the
pucker made its first appearance, aud
now, several minutes later, it was quite
distresslug. Never before had he kept
her waiting like this. She was con
scious of the fact that at least a hun
dred men had stared at her in the long-
cct ton mlnntmt fchft liml pv(ir Inn w n
From the bottom of a very hot heart
she was ln-ginnlng to resent this scru
tiny when a tall young fellow ewung
around a nearby corner aud came up
t,with a smile so full of delight that the
dainty pucker left her brow as the
shadow flees from the sunshine. His
hat was off and poised gallantly above
his head, his right hand reaching up to
clasp the warm little tan" one out
stretched to meet ft.
"I knew It was yon long before I saw
you,''' said he warmly. .
"Truly? How interesting!" she re-
eponded, with equal wsrmth. "Some
thing psychic In the atmosphere to
day?" "Oh, no," he said, reluctantly releas
ing her hand. "I can't see through
M knew U waa you, long before I saw you."
these huge buildings, you know. It's
impossible to look over their , tops. I
Blmply knew you were here, that's all."
"You're romantic, even though you
are a bit silly." she cried gayly. 'Tray,
how could you know??; ...
"Simplest thing In the world. RIgby
told me he had seen you and that you
seemed to be in a great rage. He dared
me to venture Into your presence, and
that's why I'm here." '
"What a hopelessly commonplace ex
planation! Why did you not leave me
to think that there was really some
thing psychic about It? Logic is o
Dodd. Mead fZSL Company
discouraging to one's conceit. I'm In a
very disagreeable humor today," she
said, in flue despair.
"I don't believe it," he disputed gra
ciously. "But I am," she insisted, smiling
brightly. His heart was leaping high
so high that it filled his eyes. "Every
thing has gone wrong with me today.
It's pretty trying to have to wait In
front of a big office building for fifteen
minutes. Every instant I expect a po
liceman to come up aud order me to
move on. Don't they arrest people for
blocking the street?" ;
"Yes. and put them in awful, rat
swarming dungeons over in Dearborn
avenue. Poor Mr. Cable, he should be
made to suffer severely for his wretch
ed conduct. The idea of'
"Don't you dare to say anything
mean about dad," she warned.
"But he's the cause of all the trouble.
He's never done anything to make you
Stop! I take it all back. I'm in a
perfectly adorable humor. It was
dreadfully mean of me to be half au
gry with him, wasn't it? lie's in there
now working his dear old brain to
pieces, and I'm out here with no brain
at all," she said ruefully.
To the ingenuous youth such an' ap
peal to his gallantry was well nigh
irresistible, and for a moment it seem
ed as if he would yield to the tempta
tion to essay a brilliant contradiction.
but his wits came to his rescue, for.
quickly realizing that not only were
the frowning rocks of offense to be
avoided, but likewise the danger of
floundering helplessly about in the in
viting quicksands of inanity, he pre
served silence, wise young man that
he was, and trusted to his eyes to ex
press an eloquent refutation. At last.
however, something seemed to occur
to him. A smile broke on his face.
"You had a stupid time last night,"
"What makes you think so?"
"I know who took you in to dinner."
The eyes of the girl narrowed slight
ly at the coruers.
"Did he tell you?"
"No; I have neither seen nor heard
from any one present" She opened
her eyes wide now.
"Well. Mr. S. Holmes, who was it?"
"That im!ecile. Medford."
Miss Cable sat up very straight in
the. trap. Her little chin went up In
the air. She even went so far as to
make a pretense of curbing the impa
tience of her horse.
"Mr. Medford was most entertaining.
He was the life of the dinner," she re
turned somewhat severely. .
"lie's a professional."
"An actor!" she cried incredulously.
"Xo; a professional diner out. Wasn't
that rich young Jackson there?"
"Why, yes. But do tell me how' you
knew." The girl was softening a lit
tie, her curiosity aroused.
"Of course I will," he said boyishly.
at once pleased with himself and bis
sympathetic audience. "About 5:30 1
happened to be in the club. Medford
was there and, as usual, catering to
Jackson, when the latter was called to
the phone. Naturally I put two and
two together." He paused to more
thoroughly enjoy the look of utter mys
tification that hovered on the girl's
countenance. It was very apparent
that this method of deduction through
addition was unsatisfying. "What
Jackson said to Medford on his re
turn," the young man continued, "I
did not hear, but from the expression
on the listener's face I could have. wag
ered that an invitation had been ex
tended and accepted. Oh, we boys
have got it down fine. Garrison is"
"And who Is Garrison?"
"Garrison is the head door man at
the club. It's positively amazing the
number of telephone calls be receives
every afternoon from well known so
ciety women." . -. . .
"What about? And what'sthat got
to do with Mr. Medford taking me in
to dinner?" . ...
"Just this: Suppose Mrs.. Rowden"
"Mrs. Rowden!" The girl was non
plused. , , ,
"Yes wants to find put who's hi, the
club. She phones Garrison. Instant
ly, after ascertaining which set, young
er or old, is -.wanted, iron? a. smau.
card upon which he has written a few
but choice names of, club members he
submits a name to her."
"Really, you don't mean to tell me
that such a tbing,is actually done!" ex
claimed Miss Cable,, who as yet. was
socially, so unsophisticated as to be
horrified. . lYou're joking, of course!"
"But nine times out of ten," ignoring
the interruption, "it is met with: 'Don't
wact him!'.. Another: 'Makes a bad
combination!' ,. A third: ... 'Oh,, no, my
dear, not a dollar to his name hope
lessly Ineligible!' . This last exclama
tion, though intended solely for the vis
itor at her home, elicits from Garrison
a low chuckle of approval of the speak
er's discrimination, and presently he
hears, Goodness me, Garrison, there
must be some one else!- Then, to her
delight, she Is informed that Mr. Jack
son has just come in, and he is request
ed to come to the phone, Garrison be
ing dismissed with thanks and the ex
pectation of seeing her butler in the
morning." - '."''!'
" I'How perfectly delicious!" came from
the girl. "I can almost hear Mrs. llow-
Author of "Beverly
of GrausiarV Ei
den telling Jackson that he will be
the dearest boy in the world if he will
dine with her."
"And bring some one wilh him, as
she is one man short," laughed Gray
dou. as he wound up lightly: "And here
is where the professional comes in.
We're all on to Medford! Why, Garrl-'
son has half a dozen requests a night
six times, five ?30. Not bad but
then the man's a 'who's who' that
never makes mistakes.' I wou't be
positive. that he docs not draw pay
from both ends. For, men like Med
ford, outside of the club, probably tip
him te give them the preference.- It
would bo good business."
There was. so much self satisfaction
in the speaker's manner of uttering
these last words that it would not have
required the wisdom of one older than
Miss Cable to detect that he was thor
oughly enjoying his pose of man of the
world. He was indeed young, for he
had yet to learn that not to disillusion
the girl,. but to conform as much as
possible to her Ideals, was the surest
way to -win her favor, and his vanity
surely would have received a blow had
not David Cable at that moment come
out of the doorway across the side
walk, pausing for a moment to con
verse with the man who accompanied
him. The girl's face lighted with
pleasure aud relief, but the young man,
regarding uneasily the countenance of
the general manager of the raciflc.
Lakes and Atlantic Railroad compauy.
saw that he was white, tired and
drawn. It was not the keen, alert ex
pression that had been the admiratiou
of every one; something vital seemed
to be missing, although he could not
have told what It was. A flame seemed
to have died somewhere in his face,
leaving behind a faint suggestion of
"Uedo, Oraydon! How are youf
ashes, and through the young man's
brain there flashed the remark of his
fair companion: "He's in there now.
working his dear old brain to pieces.'
"I'm sorry to have kept you wait
ing, Jane," said Cable, crossing to the
curb. "Hello, Graydon! How are you?'
His voice was sharp, crisp and louder
than the occasion seemed to demand,
but It was natural with him. Years of
life in an engine cab do not serve to
mellow' the tone of the human voice,
and the habit is too strong to be over
come. There was no polish to the
tones as they issued from David Ca
ble's lips. He spoke with more than
ordinary regard for the queen's Eng
lish. but it was because he never had
neglected It It was characteristic of
the man to do a thing as nearly right
as he knew, hew in the beginning and
to do it the. same way until a better
method presented itself.
"Very well, thank you, Mr. Cable,
except that Jane has been abusing
me because you were not here to"
"Don't you. believe a word he says.
dad," she cried.
"Oh. if the truth isn't in me, I'll sub
side," laughed Graydon. "Neverthe
less you've kept her waiting, and it's
only reasonable that she should abuse
somebody." . ..
-"I am glad you were here to receive
Jt It saves my gray hairs."
"Rubbish!" was Miss Cable's simple
comment as her father took his place
beside her. ,
"Oh. please drive on. Jane," said the
young man. his admiring eyes on the
girl who grasped the reins afresh and
straightened like a soldier for Inspec
tion. . "I. must run around to the Uni
versity club and watch the score of the
Yale-Harvard game at, Cambridge.- It
looks like Harvard, hang it all! Great
game, they say" r ,' ,. , . .
"There . he . goes . on football. r.We
must be off or it will be dark before
we get away from him. Goodby!"
cried Miss Cable.
"How's your father. Gray? He
wasn't feeling the best in the world
yesterday," said Cable, tucking in the
robe. ' , . . .. .-. :.
"A case of liver, 'Mr. Cable. He's all
right today. Goodby!"
.. As Jane and her father whirled away
I the latter gave utterance to a remark
that brought a. new brightness to her
eyes ana a proua tnrobbing to ner i
heart, but he did not observe the ef-'
Bright, clever chap that Graydon
Bansemer," he said comfortably.
nE general manager of the
Pacific, Lakes and Atlan
tic Railroad system had
had a hard struggle of it
He who begins his career
with a shovel In n loco
motive "cab usually has something of
that sort to look back upon. There are
no roses along the pathway he has
traversed. In the end, perhaps, he
wonders if It has been worth while.
David Cable was a general manager.
He had been a fireman. It had required
twenty-five years of hard work, on his
part to break through the chrysalis.
Packed away in a chest upstairs in his
house there was a grimy, greasy, un
wholesome suit of ouce blue overalls.
The garments were just as old as his
railroad career, for he had worn them
on his first trip with the shovel. AYhen
his wife implored him to throw away
the "detestable things" he said, with
characteristic humor, that he thought
he would keep them for a raiuy day.
It was much simpler to go from gen
eral manager to fireman than vice
versa, and it might be that be would
need the puit again. It pleased him to
hear his wife sniff contemptuously.
David Cable had been a wayward,
venturesome youth. His father and
mother had built their hopes high with
him as a foundation, and he had proved
a decidedly insecure oasis, ror one
night in the winter of 1SC3 he stole
away from his Home In New lork.
Before spring he was fighting In the
far southland, a boy of sixteen carry
ing a musket in the service of his
At the close of the civil war Private
Cable, barely eighteen, returned to his
home, only to find that death had de
stroyed Its happiness. His lather had
died. leaving his widowed mother a de
pendent upon him. It was then philo
sophically he realized that labor alone
could win for him, and he stuck to It
with rigid integrity. In turn he be
came brakeman and fireman. Finally
his determination and faithfulness won
him a fireman's place on one of the
fast New York Central "runs." If ever
he was dissatisfied with the work, no
one was the wiser.
Railroading in those days was not
what it is in , these advanced .times.
Then it meant that one was possessed
of all the evil habits that fall to the
lot of man. David Cable was more or
less contaminated by contact with his
rough, ribald companions of the rail,
and he glided moderately into the bad
habits of his kind. He drank and
"gamboled" with the rest of the boys;
but, by nature not being vicious and
low, the influences wer not hopelessly
deadening to the better qualities of his
character. To his mother he was al
ways the strong, good hearted manly
boy, better than all the other sous in
the world. She believed In him. He
worshiped her, and it was not until he
was well up In the twenties that he
stopped to think that she was not the
ouly good woman in the world who de
Up in Albany lived the Widow Cole
man and her two pretty daughters.
Mrs. Coleman's husband died on the
battlefield, and she, like many women
in the north and the south, after years
of moderate prosperity was compelled
to support herself and her family. She
had been a pretty woman, and one
readily could see where her daughters
got their personal attractiveness.
Not many doors from the boisterous
little eating house in which the rail
road men snatched their meals as they
went thrbugh, the widow opened a
book and news stand.. Her home was
on the floor above the stand, and it
was there she brought her little girls
to womanhood. Good looking, ha rum
scarum Dave Cable saw Frances Cole
man one evening as he dropped in to
purchase a newspaper. It was at the
end of June, in 1876, and the country
was In the throes of excitement over
the first news of the Custer massacre
on the Little Big Horn river.
Cable was deeply interested, for he
had seen Custer fighting at the front
In the sixties. Frances Coleman, the
prettiest girl he had ever seen, sold
him . the, newspaper.; After that, he
seldom went through' Albany without
visiting the little book shop.
, Tempestuous, even arrogant in love,
Cable, once convinced that he cared for
her, lost no time in claiming her,
whether , or no. In less than three
months after the Custer massacre they
. Defeated rivals unanimously and en
viously observed that the handsomest
fireman on the road had conquered the
most ; outrageous little coquette be-
tween New York and Buffalo. As a !
matter, of fact, she had loved him
from the start; the others served ta
thorns with which .-she delightedly
pricked his heart into subjection.
: The young husband settled down, re
nounced all of his, undesirable habits
and lteeame a new man with such sur
prising suddentieas that his friends
marveled . and derided. A year ot
i7 " '
.happiness followed. Ho grew accus-
louea to lier frtvolous ways. over-
looked her merry- whimsicalities and
gave her the . "fiHl .length of a free
ro'te," as he. called it . He was con
tented and consequently careless. She
chafed under the indifference and in her
resentment believed the worst of him.
Turmoil succeeded peace and content
ment, and in the end . David Cable.
driven to distraction, weakly . aban
doned the doniestic battlefield and fled
to the far west, giving bp heme, good
wages and an for the sake ot" freedom,
such as It was. Ho lgnorffll her letters
and entreaties, butin all those months
that he was a-way froth -he- h never
ceased to regret the impulse that had
defeated him. Nevertheless he could
not make up. his mind to go back and
resume the life of torture her jealousy
had begotten. ; r
Then the unexpected happened. A
letter was recetyed containing the com
mand to come home and care for his
wife and baby. At once David Cable
called a halt in his demoralizing ca
reer and saw the situation plainly. He
forgot that slie had "nagged" him to
the point where endurance rebelled; he
fo'-got everything but the fact that he
cared or her' in spite' of all. Sobered
and conscience stricktm, he knew only
that she was alone and tolling; that she
had suffered uncomplainingly until the
babe was some months old before ap
pealing to him for help. In abject hu
miliation he hastened back to New
Y'ork, reproaching himself every mile
of the way.. Had he but known the
true situation he would have been
spnrcd the pangs of remorse and this
narrative never would have been writ
N the city of New York
there was practicing at
that time a lawyer by
the name of Bansemer.
His office, on the top
most floor of a dingy
the lower section of the
city, was not inviting.
On leaving tha
elevator one wound about through nar
row halls and finally peered with mora
or less uncertainty aud misgiving at
the half obliterated sign which , said
that James Bansemer held forth on the
other side of the glass panel. .
It was -whispered In certain circles
and openly avowed in others that Ban- i
seiner's business was not the kind
which elevates the law. In plain
words, his methods were construed to
debase the good and honest statutes
of the land. Once inside the door of
his office and a heavy spring always
closed it behind one there was quick
evidence that the lawyer lamentably
disregarded the virtues of prosperity,
no matter how they had been courted
and won. Although his transactions
in and out of the courts of that great
city bore the mark of dishonor, he
was known to have made money dur
ing the .ten years of his career as a
member of the bar.
Tossibly he kept his office shabby
and unclean that it might be in touch
with the transactions which had their
morbid birth Inside the grimy walls.
There was no spot or corner in the
twov small rooms that comprised his
"chambers" to which he could point
with pride. The floors were littered
with-papers; tho walls were greasy
and bedecked, with malodorous nota
tions, documents and pictures; the win
dows were smoky . and useless; the
clerk's desk bore every suggestion of
But little less appalling to one's aes
thetic sense was the clerk himself.
Squatting behind bis wretched desk,
Elias Droom peered across the litter
of papers and books with shaky but
polite eyes, almost as inviting as the
spider who with wily but insidious
decorum draws the guileless into his
It one passed muster in the estima
tion of the incomprehensible Droom he
was permitted n due season to pass
through a second oppressive looking
door and into the private office of Mr.
James Bansemer, attorney at law and
solicitor. It may be remarked at this
early stage that, no matter how long
or how well , one may . have known
Droom, one seldom lingered to engage
in commonplaces with him. . His was
the most repellent personality Imagi
nable. When he smiled one was con
scious of a shock to the nervous sys
tem; when be so far forgot himself as
to laugh aloud there was a distinct
illustration of the word "crunching;"
when he" , spoke one was almost sorry
that he had ears.
Bansemer knew but little of this
freakish individual's history; no one
else had the temerity to Inquire Into
his past or to separate It from his fu
ture, for that matter. Once Bansemer
Ironically asked him why he had never
married. It was a full minute before
the other lifted his eyes from the'sheet
of legal cap. and by that time ha was
in full control of his passion. '
"Look at me! Would any woman
marry a thing like me?" -
This was said with such terrible ear
nestness that Bansemer took care nev
er to broach the subject again. He
saw that Droom's heart was not all
steel and brass. - ' - , -. :
Droom was middle aged. His lank
body and cadaverous face were con
strueted on principles not generally ic
credited to nature as It applies to men.;
When erect his body swayed as IT it
were a stubborn - reed , determined to
maintain Its dignity in the face of the
wind. He; did dot walk; he glided.!
His long, square chin, rarely clean'
shaven, protruded far. beyond its nat-,
ural orbit. Indeed.1 the attitude of the
chin gave one an insight to the greedy
imraer ul iue uiuu. At orst giau ,
one felt that Droom was reaching forth
with his lower jaw to give greeting
with his teeth instead of his hand.
His nock was long and thin, and his
turndown collar. was at least two sixes
too large. The nose was hooked and
of abnormal length, the tip coming i
down over the -short upper lip and J
uroaamouuj. eyes were ngntiue,merlts a Becond Iook m passing, and
and so .intense that he was never
known to. blink the lashes. Topping
them were deep, wavering black eye
brows that met above the nose, form
ing an ominous, cloudy line across the
base of his. thin, high forehead. The
crown of his head, covered by long.
Droom grivnol iliaholteally as he re
sumed Vie rubbing of his hands.
Bcant strands of black hair, was of
the type known as "retreating and
pointed." The forehead ran upward
and back from the brows almost to a
point, and down from, the pinnacle
hung the veil of hair, just as if he had
draped it there with the same care he
might have used in placing his best
hat upon a peg. His back was stooped,
and the high, narrow shoulders were
hunched forward eagerly. Long arms
and ridiculously thin legs, . with big
hands and feet, tell the story of his
extremities. When he was on his feet
Droom was more than six feet tall; as
he sat in the low backed office chair he
looked to be less than five feet over all.
The men had lteen classmates in an
obscure law school down in Pennsyl
vania. Bausemer was good looking,
forceful and young, while Droom was
distinctly his opposite. Where he came
from no one knew and no one cared.
He was past thirty-five when he en
tered the school, at least twelve years
the senior of Bansemer.
His appearance and attire proclaimed
him to be from the country, but his
sophistry, his knowledge of the world
and his wonderful insight into human
nature contradicted his looks immeas
urably. A conflict or two convinced
his fellow students that he was more
thau a match for them In stealth and
cunning if not In dress and deport
ment Ellas Droom bad not succeeded as a
lawj-er. He repelled people, growing
more and more bitter against the world
as his. struggles became harder. What
little money he had accumulated heav
en alone knew how he came by it
dwindled to nothing, and ho was In ac
tual squalor when later Bansemer
found him in an attic In Baltimore.
Even as he engaged the half starved
wretch to become his confidential clerk
the lawyer shuddered and almost re
pented of his action.
. But Elias Droom was worth his
weight in gold to James Bansemer
from that day forth. His employer's
sole aim In life was to get rich and
thereby to achieve power. His ambi
tion was laudable if one accepts the
creed of morals, but his methods were
not so praiseworthy. After a year or
two of starvation struggles to get on
with the legitimate he packed up his
scruples and laid them away tempo
rarily, he said. He resorted to sharp
practice, knavery and all the forms of
legal blackmail. It was not long be
fore his bunk account bega.n to swell.
His business thrived. He was so clev
er that not one of his shady proceed
ings reacted. It is safe to venture that
W per ceut of the people who were-J
bilked through, his manipulations prom
ised In the heat of virtuous wrath to
expose him, but he had learned to
smile in security. He knew that ex
posure for him meant humiliation for
the Instigator, and he continued to rest
easy while he worked bard.
"You're getting rich at this sort of
thing," observed Droom one day after
the lawyer had closed a particularly
nauseous deal to his own satisfaction,
"but what are you going to do when
the tide turns?" , .
Bansemer, irritated on perceiving that
the other Was engaged la his exasper
ating habit of rubbing his hands to
gether, did hot answer, but merely
thundered out, "Will you stop that?"
I There was a faint suggestion of the
possibility of a transition of the hands
to claws as T)room abruptly desisted.
out smilingly went on; .
"Some, day the other shark will get
the better of you,and you'll have noth-
lng to fall back on. You've been build
ing eu mighty slim foundations. There
isn't a Blgn of support if the worst
coinn tn tho vrnret " ha KhkL-1i.1 :
tt's a la ree world, broom." said hla
"And small also, according to another
cktIikt" cnnniAmontni nmnm "wt,on
mnn'a flmrn. pvprvhodv ktu-a htm
j-m afraid you could not survive the
Dr00m grinned so diabolically as
a m he remmed the rubbing of- his
hand3 tbat the other turned away with
na oatu and closed tne door to tDe itH
wbm? Droom's eyes could not see him.
,llf mothn!r mm him tht th -n
nnMxa tho donr for mnnr min.
.nitnc, fnl. hfln tn. nnn
. ..,,,. him.
T,nnsmpP wa a sood lookine man of
the coarser mold-the kind of man that
the second look is not always In his
favor. He was thirty-five years of age,
but looked older. His face was hard
and deeply marked with the lines of in
tensity. The black eyes were fascinat
ing in their brilliancy, but there was a
cruel, savage light in their depths. The
nose and mouth were clean cut and
pitiless in their very symmetry. Short
ly after leaving college to hang out bis
shingle he had married the daughter
of a minister. For two years her sweet
influence kept his efforts along the
righteous path, but he writhed beneath
the yoke of poverty. His pride suffered
because he was unable to provide her
with more of the luxuries of life. In
his selfish way he loved her. Failure
to advance made him surly and 111 tem
pered, despite her amiable efforts to
lighten the shadows around their little
home. When the baby boy was born
to them and she suffered more and
more from the unklndness of privation
James Bansemer, by nature an aggres
sor, threw off restraint and plunged
into the traffic. that soon made him In
famously successful. She died, how
ever, before the taint of his duplicity
touched her, aud he, even in his grief,
felt thankful that she never was to .
know the truth.
At this time Bansemer lived in com
fort at one of the middle class board
ing houses uptown, and the boy was
just leaving the kindergarten for a
private school. Bansemer s calloused
heart had one tender chamber, and In
it dwelt the little lad with the fair
hair and gray eyes of the woman who
Late one November afternoon just
before Bansemer put on his light top
coat to leave the office for the day
Droom tapped on the glass panel of
the door to his private office. Usually
the clerk communicated with him by
signal, a floor button by which he
could acquaint his master with much
that he ought to know, and the visitor
in the outer office would be none the
wiser. The occasions were rare when
he went so far as to tap on the door.
Bansemer was puzzled and stealthily
listened for sounds from the other
side. Suddenly there came to his ears
the voices of women, mingled with
Droom's suppressed but always rau
Bansemer opened tie' door. Looking
into the outer office, he saw Droom
swaying before two women, rubbing
his hands and smiling. One of the
women carried a small babe in her
arms. Neither, she nor her companion
seemed quite at ease in the presence
of the lank guardian of the outer office. .
(To be Continued.)
WE CAN CURE YOU
Esialilished in Davenport 14 yea
President of the Chicago Medical In
stitute. BEFORE you place, your case In
vestigate hre you pot tlje benefit
of the combined skill and experience
of three Drs. Walsh all eminent In
their profession covering CO years
in the practice of medicine. Take
no chances Consult-the best.
DISEASES OF MEN with their far
reaching consequences whether due
to early folly op later neglect is our
DISEASES OF THE BRAIN AND
NERVOUS SYSTEM causlnf? men
tal depression, brain fag. loss of
vigor. A breakdown mentally and
physically requires the best profes-
sirtTiiil nttpnlfnn kin diitesiseR. riis-
easen ot the Btomaeh, liver and in-
testifies, diseases of the kidneys
The Dr. Walsh "No Risk" cure for
VARICOCELE has made the CHI
CAGO MEDICAL. INSTITUTE fa
mous. Particular people who Inves
tigate always come to us. If you
can't come, write.
DRS. WALSH, WALSH
, CHICAGO MEDICAL INSTITUTE
124 W. Third St.- Near Main -St.
Rooms -25 to 29. McCullough Bldg.
Hours 10 to 12 noon; Z p.- in.-to
4:80 p. m.i 7to 8:15 p. m. Sunday,
d:M to 12 noon. No office hours
on Monday and Friday evenings.