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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, April 02, 1917, LAST EDITION, Image 19

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

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1917-04-02/ed-2/seq-19/

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" " " '
THE HERO PART
By Florence L. Henderson
A haughty, statuesque girl mot
Lane Griscom at the door" of the Bev
erly home on the occasion of the first
visit to that domicile.
"Miss Beverly?" he inquired re
spectfully. "Yes, what is your business?"
came incisive as the challenge of
some official censor.
"I wish to see Mr. Beverly. I have
Important business with him."
"My father is not in a condition to
receive visitors." The same inflexibil
lips. "Pardon me, but I am Lane Gris
com and I have come "
Miss Marcia Beverly drew herself
up haughtily. A bitter expression
crossed her face. Young Griscom
felt its contemptuous reproach.
"Yes," she spoke between set, cold
lips, "you had, perhaps, better see
him. I hope it is to restore to him
the money of which your father
robbed him."
Lane Griscom turned pale. He
trembled, but faced the cruel, un
just charge without a quiver.
"Madam," he said icily, "my father
is dead. Spare his memory. He was
a just, honest man. That is why I
am here to make reparation, if it is
in my power."
She led him into the house, paused
at a closed door, stood aside, mo
tioned that he might enter, her lips
curved in fine scorn.
This had happened: John Beverly
had been stricken down in his prime,
a helpless invalid on the eve of his
failure in business. All was swept
away from him except his home,
which was in the name of his daugh
ter, Marcia. That, too, he would have
turned over to his creditors, but
Marcia had" resisted in her hard, de
termined way.
In a distant city the father of
Lane Griscom had suffered a like
wreck of business. The blow had
killed him. When his estate was set
tled up Lane had found a claim of
$5,000 borrowed money, due to the
unfortunate John Beverly.
Now the son entered the room in
which John Beverly sat in an inva
lid's chair. Wan despair was in the
aged face, but his eye lit up with a
glad, sudden light
"I know you," spoke Mr. Beverly,
eagerly. "You are the son of my
"I Know You."
dear old friend, William Griscom. I
would know you anywhere from the
resemblance. Poor, dear friend and
you his son! Welcome, welcome, in
deed!" "I bring you poor news," said Lane
sadly. "My father's estate has bare
ly paid the secured claims. The ex
ecutor refused to admit yours with
the preferred ones. The only hope
for the future is the favorable set
tlement of a suit again the Union
Steel company, and they may litigate
that for years." ,
ggUgggy

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