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when none of those they love are by.
I hare often thought some of the blackest tragedies of the earth might' have been averted if there had been a true friend to stand at the wrung one's elbow at the fatal minute of de cision and point to the sun behind, just when the black ahead grew un endurable. Please follow Mr. Brown ley than you may be ready, should his awakening to what he has done be come unbearable. Tell him the dread ed morrows are never as terrible act ually as they seem in anticipation." I overtook Bob just outside the of fice. I did not speak to him, for I realized that he was in no mood for company. I dropped in behind, de termined that I would not lose sight of him. It was almost one o'clock. Wall street was at its meridian of frenzy, every one on a wild rush. The day's doings had packed the always crowded money lane The newsboys were shouting afternoon editions. "Terrible panic in Wall street One man against millions Robert Brown ley broke 'the street.' Made twenty millions in an hour Bank failed. Wreck and ruin everywhere. Presi dent Snow of Asterfield National a suicide." Bob gave no sign of hear ing. He strode with a slow, measured gait, his head erect, his eyes staring ahead, a man thinking, thinking, think ing for his salvation. Many hurrying men looked at him, some with an expression of unutterable hatred, as though they wanted to attack him. Then again there were those who called him by name with a laugh of joy and some turned to watch him in curiosity. It was easy to pick the wounded from those who shared in his victory, and from those who knew the frenzied finance buzz-saw only by its buzz Boz saw none. Where could he be going9 He came to the head of the street of coin and crime and crossed Broadway His path was blocked by the fence surrounding old Tnnity'3 churchyard Grasping the pickets in either hand he stared at the crumbling headstones of those guardsmen of Mammon who once walked the earth and fought their heart battles, as he was walking and fighting, but who now knew no ten clock, no three, who looked upon the stock-gamblers and dollar-trailers as they looked upon the worms that honeycombed their headstones' bases What thoughts went through Bob Brownley's mind only his Maker knew For minutes he stood motion less, then he walked down Broadway. He went into the Battery. The benches were crowded with that jet sam and flotsam of humanity that' New York's mighty sewers throw in armies upon her inland beaches at every sunrise. Here a sodden brute sleeping off a prolonged debauch, there a lad whose frankness of face and' homespun clothes and bewildered eyes spelt "from the farm and moth er's watchful love On another bench an Italian woman who had a half-doz en future dollar kings and social1 queens about her, and whose clothes told of the immigrant ship just into port Bob Brownley apparently saw none. But suddenly he stopped. Upon a bench sat a sweet-faced mother holding a sleeping babe in her arms,' while a curlj-pated boy nestled his head in her lap and slept through the magic lanes and fairy woods of dream land. The woman's face was one of those that blend the confidence of girlhood-with the uncertainty of wom anhood. 'Twas a pretty face, which had been plainly tagged by its Maker for a light-hearted trip through the world, but it had been seared by' the iron of the city. "Mr. Brownley" She started to rise. He gently pushed her back with a "hush," unwilling to rob the sleepers of their heaven "What are you doing here, Mrs' He halted. "Mrs. Chase. Mr. Brownley, when He Seemed Absolutely Unmindful of the Agonizing Shriek About Him. I went away from Randolph & Ran dolph's office I married John Chase you may remember him as a delivery clerk. I had such a happy home and my husband was good I did not have to typewrite any longer. These are our two children." "What are you doing here?" The tears sprang to her eyes she dropped them, but did not answer. "Don't mind me, woman. I, too, have hidden hells don't want the world to see. Don't mind me tell me your story. It may do you good it may do me good yes, it may do me good." I had dropped into a seat a few feet away. Both were too much occupied with their own thoughts to notice me or any one else. I could not overhear their conversation, but long after ward, when I mentioned our old sten ographer, Bessie Brown, to Bob, he told me of the incident at the Bat tery Her husband, after their mar riage, had become infected with the stock-gambling microbe, the microbe that gnaws into its victim's mind and heart day and night, while ever fiercer grows the "get rich, get rich" fever. He had plunged with their sav ings and had drawn a blank He had lost his position in disgrace and had landed in the bucket-shop, the sub-cellar pit of the big stock ex change hell. From there a week be fore he had been sent to prison for theft, and that morning she had been turned into the street by her land lord I saw Bob take from his pocket his memorandum-book, write some thing upon a leaf, tear it out and hand it to the woman, touch his hat, and .before she could stop him, stride away 1 saw her look at the paper, clap her hands to her forehead, look at the paper again and at the retreating form of Bob Brownlev Then ^T7 her, yes, there in the old Battery park, in the drizzling rain and under the eyes of all, drop upon her knees in prayer. How long she prayed I do not know. I only know that as I followed Bob I looked back and the woman was still upon her knees. I thought at the time how queer and unnatural the whole thing seemed Later, I learned to know that nothing is queer and unnatural the world of human suf fering, that great human suffering turns all that is queer and unnatural into commonplace Next day Bessie Brown came to our office to see Bob. Not being able to get at him she ask ed for me. 'Mr Randolph, tell me, please, what shall I do with this paper?" she said "I met Mr Brownley in the Bat tery yesterday He saw I was in distress, and he gave me this, but I cannot believe he meant it," and she showed me an order on Randolph & Randolph for a thousand dollars. I cashed her check and she went away. From the Battery Bob sought the wharves, the Bowery, Five Points, the hothouses of the under world of America. He seemed bent on pick ing out the haunts of misery in the misery-infested metropolis of the new world. For two hours he tramped and I followed A number of times I thought t6 speak to him and try to win him from his mood, but I re frained. I could see there was a soul battle waging and I realized that upon its outcome might depend Bob's salvation. Some seek the quiet of the woods, the soothing rustle of the leaves, the peaceful ripple of the brook twhen battling for their soul, but Bob's woods appeared to be the shadowy places of misery, his rustling leaves the hoarse din of the multitude, and his brook's ripple the tears and tales of the man-damned of the great city, for, he stopped and conversed with many human derelicts that he met on his course. The hand of the clock on Trinity's steeple pointed to four as we again approached the of fice of Randolph & Randolph. Bob was now moving with a long, hurried stiide, as though consumed with ^iAikw^^&^di^M fever of desire to get to Beulah Sand* For the last 15 minutes I had with difficulty kept him insight. ^Sfcul^e arrived at a decision, and If so, what was it? I asked myself over and over again as I plowed through the crowds. Bob went straight to Beulah Sands' office, I to mine. I had been there but a moment when heard deep, guttu ral groans. I listened. The sound came louder than before. It came from Beulah Sands' office. With a bound I was at the open door. My God, the sight that met my gaze! It haunts me even now when years have dulled its vividness. Thebejauti ful, quiet, gray figure that had grown to be such a familiar picture to Boh and me of late, sat at the fiat desk in the center of the room. She faced the door. Her elbows rested on the desk in her hand was an afternoon paper that she had evidently been reading when Bob entered. God knows how long she had been reading it be fore he came. Bob was kneeling at the side of her chair, his hands clasp ed and uplifted in an agony of appeal that was supplemented by the awful groans. His face showed unspeakable terror and entreaty the eyes were bursting from their sockets and were riveted on hers as those of a man in a dungeon might be fixed upon an approaching specter of one whom he had murdered. His chest rose and fell, as though trying to burst some unseen bonds that were crushing out his life. With every breath would come the awful groan that had first brought me to him. Beulah Sands had half turned her face until her eyes gazed into Bob's with a sweet, child ish perplexity. I looked at her, sur prised that one whom I had always seen so intelligently masterful should be passive in the face Qf such an guish Then, horror of horrors! I saw that there was something missing from her great blue eyes. I looked gasped. Could it possibly be? With a bound I was at her side. I gazed again into those eyes which that morning had been all that was intel ligent, all that was 'godlike, all that was human. Their soul, their life was gone Beulah Sands was a dead woman not dead in body, but in soul the magic spark had fled. She was but an empty shella woman of living flesh and blood but the cita del of life was empty, the mind was gone. What had been a woman was but a child. I passed my hand across my now damp forehead. I closed my eyes and opened them again. Bob's figure, with clasped, up lifted hands, and bursting eyes, was still there. There still resounded through the room the awful guttural groans. Beulah Sands smiled, the smile of an infant in the cradle. She took one beautiful hand from the pa per and passed it over Bob's bronzed cheek, just as the infant touches its mother's face with its chubby fingers. In my horror I almost expected to hear the purling of a babe My eyes in their perplexity must have wandered from her face, for I suddenly became aware of a great black head-line spread across the top of the paper that she had been reading: "FRIDAY, THE 13TH." And beneath in one of the col umns. "TERRIBLE TRAGEDY IN VIRGINIA" "The Most Prominent Citizen of the State, ex-United States Senator and Ex-Governor, Judge Lee Sands of Sands Landing, While Temporarily Insane from the Loss of His For tune and Millions of the Funds for Which He Was Trustee, Cut the Throat of His Invalid Wife, His Daughter's, and Then His Own. All Three Died Instantly." In another column: "Robert Brownley Creates the Most Disastrous Panic in the History of Wall Street and Spreads Wreck and Ruin Throughout the Country." A hideous picture seared its every light and shade on my mind, through my heart, into all my soul. A fren zied-finance harvest scene with its gory crop in the center one living dead, part of the picture, yet the ghost left to haunt the painters, one of whom was already cowering before the black and bloody canvas. Well did the world-artist who wrote over the door of the madhouse: "Man can suffer only to the limit, then he shall know peace," understand the wondrous wisdom of his God. Beu lah Sands had gone beyond her limit and was at peace. The awful groaning stopped, and an ashen pallor spread over Bob Brown ley's face. Before I could catch him he rolled backward upon the floor as dead. Bob Brownley, too, had gone beyond his limit. I bent over him and lifted his head, while the sweet woman-child knelt and covered his face with kisses, calling in a voice lfke that of a tiny girl speaking to her doll: "Bob, my Bob, wake up, wake up your Beulah wants you." As I placed my hand upon Bob's heart and felt its beats grow stronger, as I listened to Beulah Sands' childish voice, joyishly confident as it called upon the one thing left of her old world, some of my terror passed. In its place came a great 'inellowing sense of God's marvelous wisdom. I thought gratefully of my moth er's always ready argument that the law of laws, of 5od' and nature, is that of compensation. I had allowed Bob's head to sink until it rested in Beulah's lap, and from his calm and steady breathing I could see that he had safely passed a crisis, that at least he was not in the clutches of death, as I had at first feared. Bob slept. Beulah Sands ceased her calling and with a smile raised her fingers to her lips and softly said: "Hush, my Bob's asleep." Together we held vigil over our sleeping lover and friend, she with the happiness of a child who had no fear of the awak~ ening, I with a silent terroiTof what- *THE EBINCETOS TTNIOtf: THFBSDAY, MAY 9, 1907. ^^mmtmm/jmmtatim would come next I had seen one mind wafted to the unknown that day. "Was it to have1 a companion to ch&r"and solace it on Its far journey to the, great beyond? How long we waited} Boh's awakening I could not tell. The clock's hands said an hour it seemed to me an age. At last his magnificent physique, his unpoisoned blood and splendid brain pulled him through ^o his new world of mind and heart tor ture. His eyelids lifted. He looked at me, then at Beulah Sands, with eyes BO sad, so awful in their per plexed mournfulness, that I almost wished they had never opened, or had opened to let me see the childlike look that now shone from the girl's. His gaze finallv rested on her and his lips murmured "Beulah." "There, Bob, I thought you would know it was time to wake up." She bent oyer and kissed him on the eyes again with the loving ardor a child bestows upon its pets. He slowly rose to his feet. I could see from his eyes and the shudder that went over him as he caught sight of the paper on the desk that he was himself that memory of the happen ings of the day had not fled in his sleep. He rose to his full height, his head went up, and his shoulders back, but only from habit and for an in stant. Then he folded Beulah Sands to his breast and dropped his head upon her shoulder. He sobbed like a father with the corpse of his child. "Why, Bob, my Bob, is this the way you treat your Beulah when she's let you sleep so your beautiful eyes would be pretty for the wedding? Is this the way to act before this kind man who has come to take us to the church? Naughty, naughty Bob" I looked at her, at Bob, in hbrror. I was beginning to realize the abso CHAPTER VII. An old gambler whose life had befn spent listening to the rattle of the drop-in-bound-out little roulette ball, was told by a fellow victim, as his last dollar went to the relentless tiger's maw, that the keeper's foot was upon an electric button which enabled him to make the ball drop where his stake was not. He simply said: "Thank God. I thought that prince of -cheats, .Fate, who all through life has had his foot on the button of my & .ft jaalfif game, was the one who did the trick." Long Buffering had driven the ,old gambler to" the loser's bible, Yhiloso*, phy! Cheated by man's device, he knew he bad some chance of -get ting even but Fate he .could not combat. 0 Bob Brownley had thought himself In hard luck when his eyes opened to the fact that he had been robbed by$means of dice loaded by man, but when Fate pressed the button he saw that his man-made hell was but a feeble imitation, andwas satisfied, as whoever knows the game of life is satisfied, becausehe must be. Bob's strong head bowed, his iron will bent, and meekly his soul murmured: "Thy will be done." That night he married Beulah Sands. The minister who united the grown-up man and the woman who was as a new-born babe saw nothing extraordinary in the match. He murmured to me, who acted as best man Ito the groom, maid of honor to the bride, and father and mother to both: "We see strange sights, we ministers of the great city, Mr. Ran dolph. The sweet little lady appears to be a trifle scared." My explana tion that she and Mr. Brownley were the awful survivors of the awful tragedies of the day was sufficient. He was satisfied when he got no other response to his question: "Do you take this man to be your wedded hus- band?" than a sweet childish smile as she snuggled closer to Bob. Bob and his bride went south to his mother and sisters the next day. He left to me the settlement of his trades. He instructed me to set aside $3,000,000 profits for Beulah Sands-Brownley, and insisted that I pay from the balance the notes he had given me a few weeks before. There "Good Bob Has Come Back to Play with Buelah.1 lute deadness ot tnis woman From the first look I had known that her mind had fled, but knowledge is not The leading Wall street paper, in always realization. She did not even its preaching on the panic, wound up know who I was. Her mind was dead to all but the man she loved, the man who through all those long days of her suffering she had silently wor shiped. To all but him she was new born. At the sound of "wedding," "church," Bob's head slowly rose from her shoulder. I saw his decision the instant I caught his eye I realized the uselessness of opposing it, and, sick at heart and horrified, I listened as he said in a voice now calm and soothing as that of a father to his child: "Yes, Beulah, my darling, I have slept too long. Bob has been naughty, but we will make up for lost time. Get your hat and cloak and we'll hurry to the church, or we will be late." With a laugh of joy she followed him to the closet where hung the little gray turban and the pretty gray jacket. He took them from their peg and gave them to her. "Not a word, Jim," he bade me. "In the name of God and all 'our friend ship, not a word^ Beulah Sands will be my wife as soon as I can find a minister to marry-, us. It is best, bst. It is right. It is^as God would have it, or il am not capable of knowing right from wrong. Anyway, it is whaY will be. She has no father, no moth er, no sister, no one to protect and shield her. The 'system' has robbed her of all in life, even of herself, of everything,, Jim, but me. I -must try to win her -back to herself, or to make her new world a happy onea happy one for her.' A ft remained something over $5,060,000 for himself. with "Wall street has lued through many black Fridays Some of them hate been thirteenth-of-the-month Fridays, but no Friday yet marked from the calendar, no Saturday, Mondav, Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday yet garnered to the store house of the past was ever more jubilant ly welcomed by his Satanic Majesty than yesterday We pray Heaven no com ing day may be ordained to go against yesterday's record for tigerish cruelty and awful destruction It is rumored that Mr Brownlej of Randolph & Randolph, either for himself or his clients cleared $25,000,000 of profit We believe that this estimate is low The losses coming through Robert Brownley's terrible on slaught must have run over $500,000,000 Wall street and the country vull do well to take the moral of yesterday's market to their heart It is this. The concen tration of wealth in the hands of a few Americans is a menace to our financial structure. It is the unanimous opinion of 'the Street1 that Robert Brownle could never have succeeded in battering down the price of sugar in the very teeth of the Camemeyer and Standard Oil support "as he did yesterday, without a cash back ing of trojn $50,000,000 to $100,000,000. If a vast aggregation of money owners delib erately place themselves behind an on slaught such as was so successfully made yesterday, why can that slaughter not be repeated at any time, on any stock, and against the support of any Tjacking'" When I read this and listened to. talk along the same lines, I was pim zled. I could n3 for the life of me see wneite Bob Brownley xiould- haver got five-to ten millions* backing for such a "raid, much les fifty to a hun dred Yet I was forced to "confess that he must have had some tremen dous backing else how co^ild lie have done- what I had seen- him- do? Bob left his wife at his mother's house while he went to Sand Land ing to the funeral. After the old judge and hia victims had been laid away and the relatives had gathered in the library of the great white Sands mansion, he* explained their kinswoman's condition and told them that she was his wife. He insisted upon paying all Judge Sands' deb's over $500,000 of which was owed to members of the Sands family for whom he had been trustee. Before he went back to his mother's, Bob had turned a great calamity into an occasion for something near rejoicing! '^^^m^MikkM^^mMM^i *s Judge Sands and his family "were IQ&i dear to the people of the sec tion, but his misfortune had threat ened-such widespread ruin that the unlooked-for recovery of a million and a half was a godsend that made for happiness. Two days after the funeral Bob's dearest hope fled. He had ordered all things at the Sands plantation put in their every-day condition. Beulah Sands, uncles, aunts and cousins had arranged to welcome her and to try by every means in their power to coax back her lost mind They assured Bob that barring the absence of Beulah's father, mother, and sister, there would not be a memory-recaller missing. Bob and his wife landed from the river packet at the foot of the driveway, which led straight from the landing to the vine-covered, white pillared portico. Bob's agony must have been awful when his wife clap ped her hands in childish joy as she exclaimed, "Oh, Bob, what a pretty place!" She gave no sign that she had ever seen the great entrance, through which she had come and gone from her babyhood. Bob took her to the library, to her mother's room, to her own, to the nursery where were the dolls and toys of her childhood, but there came no sign of recognition, nothing but childish pleasure. She looked at her aunts and uncles and the cousins with whom she had spent her life, bewildered at finding so many strangers in the otherwise quiet place. As a last hope they led in her old black foster-mother, who had nursed her in babyhood, who was the companion of her childhood and the pet of her womanhood. There was not a dry eye in the library when she met the old mammy's outbm &t of joy with the puz zled gaze of the child who does not understand The grief of the old ne gress was pitiful as she lealized that she was a stranger to her "honey bird" The child seemed perplexed at her grief It was plain to all that the Sands home meant nothing to the last of the judge's family. Bob brought her back to New York and besought the aid of the medical experts of America and of the Old World to regain that which bad been recalled by its Maker. The doctors were fascinated with this new phase of mind blight, for in some particulars Beulah's case was milike any known instances, but none gave hope. All agreed that some wire connecting heart and brain had burned out when the cruel "System" threw on a voltage beyond the wire's capacity to trans mit. All agreed that the woman-child wife would never grow older unless through some mental eruption beyond human power to produce Some of the medical men pointed to one possi bility, but that one was too terrible for Bob to entertain. The first anniversary of their mar riage found Bob and his wife settled in their new FiSsh avenue mansion He had bought and torn down two old houses between Forty-second and Forty-third streets and had erected a palace, the inside of which was unique among all New York's unusual struc hires The first and second floors' were all that refined taste and unlim ited expenditure of money could pro duce Nothing on those splendid floors told of the strange things above A sedate luxury pervaded the drawing rooms, library, and dming-roarn Bob said to me, in taking me through! them, "Some day, Jim, Beulah may recqver, may come back to me, and I want to have everything as she would wish, everything as she would have had it if the curse had never come." The third floor was Beulah's A child's dainty bedroom two nurses' rooms adjoining a nursery, with a child's small schoolroom and a big playroom, with dolls and doll houses, child's toys of every description in abandon, as though their owner were in fact but a few years old. Across the hall were three offices, exact duplicates of mine, Bob's, and Beulah Sands' at Randolph & Randolph's When I first saw them it was with difficulty that I brought myself to realize that I was not where the gruesome happenings of a year before had taken place Bob had reproduced to the minutest de tails our down-town workshop Stand ing in the door of Beulah Sands' of fice I faced the flat desk at which she had sat the afternoon when I first saw that hideous result of the work of the "System I could almost see the lit tle gray figure holding the afternoon paper. In horror my eyes sought the floor at the side of the chair in search of Bob's agonized face and uplifted hands. As I stood for the first time in the middle of Bob's handiwork, I seemed to hear again those awful "Jim," Bob said, "I have a haunt ing idea that some day Beulah will wake and look around and think she has been but a few minutes asleep. If she should, she must have nothing to disabuse he"r mind until We break the news to her. I have instructed her nurses, one or the other of whom never loses sight of her night or day, to win her to the liabit of "spending Tier time alt her old desk I have told them always to be prepare* for her awakening, and when it comes they are instantlyto shut -off the rest of the floor and house Until I can get to her. Heres comes Beulah now." Out of the nursery came a laughing, happy" child-woman. In spite of her finely developed, womanly figure, which had lost nothing of its wonder ful beauty, and the exquisite face and golden-brown hair and great blue eyes, which were as fascinating as on the day "she first entered the offices of Randolph & Randolph in spite of the close-fitting gray gown with dainty turned-over lace collar, I could hardly bring myself to believe that she was anything but a young child. With an eager look and a happy laugh she went to Bob and throwing her arms about his neck, covered hiff face with kiasea. X* iJ 7 i P. *&i i1 5*'