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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, October 05, 1916, LAST EDITION, Image 18

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1916-10-05/ed-1/seq-18/

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By George Munson
(Copyright, 1916, W. G. Chapman.)
"Geoff Powell, you must be mad."
"Maybe I am, or maybe there's a
method in my madnes. Or maybe,
again, there are things I value more
than money."
The manufacturer took Geoffrey
by the sleeve. "See here, my friend,"
he said, "I'm offering you a position
at $2,000 a year because you're a
college man and understand the spe
cial mathematical work that this
contract calls for. It a job that fifty
applicants are after, and I'm offering
it to you for your dead father's sake,
and because I believe in you."
"Go. on, Mr. Woodstock. And be
cause, as an ex-jailbird, I couldn't
get a job anywhere else. And be
cause I'm in rags."
"Geoff, what's the trouble? You
don't act or speak like a normal
"I guess I can mind my own af
fairs, Mr. Woodstock."
The manufacturer turned back to
his desk. "All right, sir, you don't
have to take it," he said. But as
Geoffrey was going toward the door
he turned toward him. "If you
change your mind by Saturday let
me know," he said. And then, to
himself, "it's for his father's sake."
Jim Woodstock had known Powell,
senior, all his business life. It was
his friendship for him that induced
him to offer the position to his
worthless son, Geoffrey. Geoffrey
was the younger, Arthur the elder.
Geoffrey had been wild at college and
had ended by forging a bill for $50.
It was as much thoughtlessness as
any evidence of crime; but the boy
had been sent up for six months, and
after that every door had been closed
against him.
Effie Mayhew had been away when
he returned. If anybody could have
kept him straight it was his boyish
sweetheart. She had written to him ,
when he was in prison, imploring him
to turn over a new page in his rec
ord, begging him to remember that
all had not forgoten him. But when
Geoffrey turned up at the village he
thought Effie had barred her door
againsthimm. And so he had left,
after a "furious quarrel with Arthur,
now the sole inheritor of his father's
There had followed five years of
He Stood, a Ragged Tramp, Leaning
Outside the Garden Paling.
aimless traveling. Geoffrey had
never run quite straight; he drank
and gambled, but he had never been
dishonest again. Deep in his heart
there was the desire to live a clean,
life, but there was also the s'ense of
intolerable wrong. He had at last
decided, after long brooding, to have

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