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THE ARIZONA RErUBEICAX, FRIDAY MOUSING, MAY 1, 1908.
9 By Owen Kildare. Copyright ltW by Thomas II. Me Kee. AS long as his wife was alive Dave Pearsall wasn't much different from anybody else. He worked steadily at his trade of stoue-cut-ting and in the evenings conlJn't get home quick enough to sit by his fireside which was an oil stove in this case with his wife and baby. After the wife died, though. Dave got his sister to keep house for him and little Wilbur, his son. T.ien things got different. The truth is the sister was little too fanciful for Dave, and used to make what-nots and other things out of empty soap boxes. Too many cosy corners are liable to drive a man from home, and so Dave got going round the v. ard. it wasn't more than a couple of years when Dave rcve up cutting stone anj began tending bar for '.'.ike Flannagan, who then had the say in the v r.rd for his party. In a few more years, Flan-ca-an went to the ball, got defeated several times r.n 1 was dropped from the executive committee. !'o when Dave saw how things stood with Flanna gan, he begad pulling a few wires, feeling himself rb!e to be a leader. Of course, it took months ,-r.rl years to do all this, and all that time the son, little Wilbur was growing up. Well, Dave got to be leader of the ward, and the minute that he was sure of being the Big Noise in the district he cut loose from all saloon connections and essayed the gentlemanly role. Well, sir, by the time the son got to be about twenty, the old man'd been leader so long that he wouldn't have swapped with the Czar of Russia so far as the steadiness of the Job was concerned. And then Dave got to breaking Wilbur to regular work. The Kid hadn't been much to school round the ward. Dave sent him up to boarding schools and academies, and when he came back home for good everybody in the district turnedout to feast their eyes. And it was worth it. In those days down our way when a young f51- aud that, from the standpoint of practical politics, was almost criminal. They warned him, but when he didn't stop and went after the Crow's Nest, a row of tenements belonging to Abe Goldman, who was 'way up among the mighty, then we could all hear something drop. Old Dave wrote, "Son Wilbur, come' and see me," and Sou Wilbur beat it as swiftly Jown-town as 'his benzine buggy would let him. I was mighty close to Dave at the time, being a soft of private secretary without the writing, and I was up jn the club when the Kid waltzed in to meet his father. r "What's the matter with you?" asks Dave. "Has that up-town air made you daffy? There ain't a day I don't hear about some new foolishness o' your'n. What's eating you?" The Kid goes off on a long speech about the rights of .hia constituents' and the pledges he made, The old man stopped him with: "Now, listen to me. I've been in politics long enough to know what's good for us. I put you where you are and I can put you down, too. You got to learn that we aint in this business for our health. I'm too old to cut stone, and, I think, without me, you'd be a mighty bum lawyer. I gave you the chance of your lifetime, and if you do what you're told to do you're liable to go to the United States Sen ate, and, maybe, to the White House. But if you don't get rid o' them daffy notions the Pa,rty'll look after you, and they never let up." "But I cant go back on my promises and pledges," said the Kid. f UKJl b UV I.U11UI3U, BcllU UdtC. 11 lUCIeO & What d'you think he was going to do? He bad sold everything and was going to pay back all he had gotten by oh, in the way of practical politics. He 'had written bis resignation from the organiza tion. "And now I'm through," be said, and grasped my hand. "And you promise me not to let any body know my whereabouts?" I was completely taken off my feet before I could say anything. 'But how about the kid? ' I finally gasped, and and you people are about the best in the city. My estate is handled by a lot of old fogies who would be utterly 'helpless in a case of this kind. I've made inquiries about you and find you're the firm I want. Find some way to fix this thing up for me and you can name your own figure." j The junior partner smilingly shook his bead. f - "We couldn't take it under any circumstances," he said. "Ours is not a divorce practice, you know." it was as if I had hit him. He tumbled into a chair "I see no case." the junior partner returned and cried as I never seen a man or a woman laughingly. cry before. The other reached for .his bat and gloves. "I "My moy," be mumbled to himself. "M ymoy . do," he rejoined, "and a mighty knotty one." ' He what a father I've been to him! Not satisfied with . turned suddenly. giving him a crook for a father, I bad to make him one, too." "But you're not all through with politics?" "Politics?" he shouted. "I pray I'd never had anything to do with that devilish game. I only hope that I ain't too old to be honest. And if I'm spared until my boy comes home, I'll spend all the rest o my life to atone and to win his forgive ness. Good-night." I never heard from him until ten months later, just when the Kid's time was up. Then Dave' wrote to me to meet him. I didn't waste a moment but, chased down to the Twenty-sixth Street dock, where the boat from the Island comes in. Dave was there and he look ed like a different man. AH the swell togs were gone. He looked strong and as 'healthy as a young fellow, and when I looked at bis hands I began to smell at rat. fool that believes in pledges he ought to get stuck, f.v "How's stone-cutting nowadays?" I asked. i You gpt nothing to do with that. When you're in "How d'you find out?" he said and laughed. politics you got to do what your told to do by" Then he started in about the Kid. whether 'he fiiiill your masters and nothing else. To them that don't obey, accidents Is liable to 'happen. If you him, until the boat landed fail me'in this you not only ruin me but also your- Ahead of almost everybody, the Kid was corn self for I won't have a fool for a son. You got two ing down the plank. He didnt hurry much, but months until election. That's enough to make came up slow and put out bis band to me. good in, and if you don't well, you know the con- ? "I'm glad you came down to meet me, it makes ; sequences." it less lonely," be said. Tbe Kid didn't go back half as fast as he'd come 2 1 waited for bim to say something to his father, k -, but be couldn't see bim at all. ' i - ... " A wii-w Hour, am t you got a word lor your J. father," the old man kind o groaned. -3? "Yes, I have a word for you, but I hoped you would sppre me from uttering It," he answered, his face going white. Then, becoming cooler. "Ain't you satisfied yet with what you've done?" he said. ' "You are nothing to me. Our ways part here. I'm going in search of my lost integrity; you can go back to your politics and crookedness." The old man just looked at him with a face that was almost grayish green. Then he hucried away. Well, I had to talk like a Dutch uncle before I made an impression on the Kid. When I told him how his father had gone back to stone-cutting the Kid softened considerably. And when I threw out that the old man was all broken up anj not responsible, and, perhaps, liable to do anything the boy said: "Come, we must go to him." We were at the tenement in less than no time. The door was locked, but I heard him inside and heard something else besides, so I put my shoulder to it. He was standing in front of a bit of looking-glass and tried to hide soni"th!n? an we fell into the room. We Jidnt have to see it to know what it was. The Kid went up to him. . t "I)i(l, dear old dad. can you forgive me?" "Dad. . dear old dad, -can yau . forgive me?" he said, and put his arms around the ol.i man. That was my cue ro take a sneak, and I was tii toeing to the door whe nthe Kid said again: "We're going to stick together now. tin t we? Not as politicians, but Just as honest, square men." I The father Wouldn't answer and you know the reason why not.. On my way down those four flights n' stairs I came to the conclusion that it takes a lot of prac tical politics and crookedness to kill the love be tween father and son. 'If you won't give me legal advice." be said. ' "will you give me personal advice? Of course . you're a new man here, but all my informants tell me that anyone connected with this firm is all right. Charge me anything you like, but give me your help. Will you?" Again the junior partner smiled. S "My advice,' he replied, "would probably be worth nothing; in fact, I'm not sure that I have any advice to give however, tell me the circumstances and details, and if I can help you, I'll be very glad to do so.? Grierson settled back ia hit chair and nodded his satisfaction. "Well," he said, "to begin at the beginning, I was introduced to her at an affair at Lenox gar den party, or some such thing. What first attract ed me to her was her wonderful beauty. She's the most beautiful woman I ever saw." The junior partner smiled indulgently. "Go , on-" . 'I ran across 'her at various times at various MM TSCcv-x m "I PUT YOU WHERE YOU ARE AND I CAN PUT YOU DOWN, TOO. low was dressed , he had on a pair of skin tights that kept him standing up all the time for fear something should happen should he try to sit down. Then a pea-jacket, a fried-egg sky )ieee and a celluloid collar win a purple nerktie, and none o' the Sadies could resist him. But when Wilbur Pearsall showed up it was all up in the air with Fourth Ward fashions, and the fellows went to hock their war-paint for whatever the uncles would give. Wilbur was kept, round thp ward, was enrolled a member of t'he organization, i n't rod u red to everybody and used to trod along with fro old man. . He did t'lis mi to e'ection. when lie dropped his first votf. .after which he disappeared again. Two years later he came home, transform ed by a Prince Albert. Sometimes l.e even wore a silk hat. In the meantime the old ni?.n had moved into a stoop-house from the old tenen.ent :!;..ck. which lie had bought long ago. and one rlr.y tlvre was a little shingle stuck up in the parlcr window, with "Wilbur Pearsall, Attorney-at-lav.-," en it. And then we got wise to the proposition. Almost before he had his shingle out. lie was made a member of the law committee of the or ganization an, I the tip went round that if you were in for something small, robbery, second-story work or manslaughter, you had to 'have Wilbur Pearsall in court for you or r'se go up. After a whi!" his practice got fo big he'd on'y take first Hrs murder cases and defend the street car 'ompany from the unjust claims of an indiscrimi nating and unreasonable public. Old Dave certainly was ambitious for the boy. Hi thought ther was nothing like him in the world. An,t the boy was no fool. He had the education and the glad rags and the first thinf, we knew he was right in -among the swell voters. The way the Kid was framing up the game those swells never thought it possible that his ancestor had ever dished out big scoops o' Dutch disturbance and pig's-knuckle free lunch at Mike Flannagan's. And no wonder, for the first 4hing he did was to changelhis name from "Wilbur Pearsall" to "W. Westmeath Pearsall." Everything looked lovely and old Dave was seeing pictures of the Kid being the real thing in spectacular politics, with Bourke- Cockran pining the last bench - in the rear o the And. no use o' talking, the Kid certainly was all to the mustard at the talkfests. He could sling language to beat the band, and bad learned so many tongues he coulj lie in more than one. But in the long run he got faded by the silk-stockings- and began neglecting his chances, which is the prerogative of any practical politician. It got to be a case of all. going out and nothing com ing in., which is poor politics. Almost every day. he was to the front with some scheme to do some- s thing for the common people; eijher he wanted fire-e6capes or an ordinance for better tenements; away- on II A 1 1. Jown. The son of a politician, he seemed to get his liking for the game by inheritance. But his education made him wish for gentlemanly politics as if such a thing could be. Gentlemanly and ward politics is the same stuff with different labels that's all. From what I learned after, I'm sure if the Kid's mother had been alive then he'd never gone wrong. But there he was. aeheing to ask somebody's advice and too suspicious to trust any body in polities, thinking all were crooks, iji which, of course, he was dead wrong yes. So he start ed in to !o bis duty as the old man saw it. As I was saying, his constituents were mostly a dead swell bunch that lived according to the fash ion, and just then it was the fashion for them to make their sisters and aunts believe they were the real things in politics. They had nothing but mass meetings that, were like regular tea-parties, with fiie Gwendolines and Gladyses splitting their dain ty gloves every time Archibald went to the bat to tell them how bad they were in general and how the country ought to be run. And they all stood pat for W. Westmeath Pear-all, late of Flanna gan's gin mill. V.'i-.cn it came election day they were always ab sen', as they couldn't make any money in their business on that day and went out of town the night before to hit those little balls over fields and ditrhea or to jump over a' couple o fences and shout "lalla-lee-lee " or some such nonsense. But they all registered faithfully, even if they thought it more important to be at the Country Club on election day instead of voting. The Kid was next to this habit, and used it, but there were a few hitches. For instance: Mr. Hamilton De Rensallaer, a Wall Street banker residing on Fifth Avenue, was challenged by an opposite walcher. who thought Ham looked a little phony for a capitalist. When they took him to the station-house, the capitalist was bitting everybody for a chew o' tobacco and asking them to inform Barney Flynn, of the Bow ery, that his friend. Spike, was in trouble. The thing worked all right otherwise, and the Kid carried t'he district. In a day or two, those swells heard how they'd been voting in sweaters and overalls, and most o' them laughed out a few o' them got dead sore. Before the Kit could get ahead o' them and stall them, they were down to the district attorney and raising a fine row. The Kid was arrested and put under ten thousand bond. The bail was put up and we thought that'd close the game. But it was made, an issue: they tried him before an unfriend ly judge and the Kid was sentenced one year and a fine of one thousand dollars. There was some talk of an appeal but the evi dence was too clear. So, in the morning, the Kid went over to the Island. That night I saw Dave at the club. "I was looking for you,'' he Eays. "I got a tough job before me, and I want you, to help me." would forgive him and whether he would speak to places. Her husband was never with her. He uaea to suip ner away 10 iewpon or uaxewooa or tbe Berkshires. She seemed to like me and we used to chat and golf and motor and dance together a good deal, and well, the result of it all was that I fell in love with her and one night I lost my head and told her. . She was mad, mad clean through, and she dismissed me without waiting for me to explain." . "And what did you do?" "Left, but I couldn't remain away. Next time I aw her I made no reference to what had gone before. I treated her as though nothing had hap pened, and gradually she took a sensible view of the matter and her anger cooled down. Oh. I'm not such an ass as to push things to the breaking point all at once, you know. , He played with bis cane, thinking. "Then, some months later, I tried it again. She did just the same as before got angry and all that sort of thing, you know only she didn't take it quite so bard and got over it sooner, so that I knew things were coming my way. And her hus band was playing into my hands all along, fur he never came near her, nor paid anv attention to her; and his neglect v.as having its effeet. "She's one of those high-strung, high-spirited women, you know, and he had hurt her pride; and when a woman's pride is wounded, her love Is wounded, too. "Well, I made up my mind that It was up to me to give her. as far as lay in my power, all the atten tions that her husband did not. So I took to send ing her flowers and books, and. various little gifts tliat were not of enough value to cause grave offense: though even at that, she sent them all baekatfirst. However. I kept on. and afte a while, I made one-' stick a "bunch of American beauties. A woman gets sick of buying herself flowers, you know. After that it was easier." Grierson stopped and. taking a case from his pocket, carefully selected a cigarette tnd lighted it. "Well but hang it all, you can guess the rest, can't you?' "I think I can.'- said the junior pdrtner. "How do things stand now?" "Well, If only there were some way in whic hshe could get her freedom, I think she'd do it. She has had no break with bim as yet: but she's on the verge of one, and. if only the way were clear, I'm quite certain she'd follow it." "Does her husband know anything of this?" "If he doesn't, he's a bigger ass than he's taken for, though bow much he knows I can't tell you." "Is be the sjrt of man. do you think, who would be liable to raise a row?" Grierson shook his head. "I don't think so," he returned. "He's one of these men who have their nose on the grindsone, and are glad of it. From what little I know of him I imagine he would try to keep things to himself.'' "Then let us suppose that you persuade her to , go away with you. If, as you think, the husband is a mild-mannered, methodical individual, wrap ped up in business to the exclusion of all else, would be not be liable to get a divorce in the quiet est possible manner?" The other considered for a moment, then looked up dubiously. "But suppose be should decide not to sue?" "He would probably be glad to rid himself of his other ties, if he is the kind of a man you say he is. And if he is not, why, you have money, haven't you? And you'd be glad to spend some of it to this end. wouldn't you. And what do men like him work for but for money?" Grierson winked signficantly for answer. The Junior partner shrugged bis shoulders. "Oh," he said easily, "there's away to get around the law. That's what lawyers are for. And you wouldn't have much trouble in finding one and a brainy one, to fix that matter for you." Grierson shook bis bead. "But there's still a chance that he won't sue," he objected. "That's a chance you have to take," the Junior partner replied slowly. "And society forgives the man, at any fate." The other eyed him shrewdly. His lips curved in a thip, dry smile. , "I'm. afraid site wouldn't take that chance," he said. Again the junior partner shruggeu his should ers. "Don't ask bar," he said. "Make her. Wom en of the type you mention want to be dominated. They'd much rather be compelled than asked to do a thing. Go to her. Don't say, "Will you come with me?' Say, 'You are coming with me!' And make her do it! She'll love you the more for it and she'll go." Grierson banged his clenched fist down upon the table. "By Jove, believe you're right!" he cried. The junior partner smiled. Of course I'jn right." "And I'll try It!" Grierson shook his head. "It does seem rough on the husband, though, doesn't it?" The juniox partner shrugged his shoulders a third time. "It's too late to think of him now," he replied. "And, anyway, 'he should have thought of himself. A man who can't keep a wife has no right to have one. And it's useless to try to hold a woman against her will." "By Jove, I'll do it!' Grierson declared. "And I'll do it right away." As, with a nod he opened the door of the private office and passed out, the junior partner called af ter him: "Good luck, old man." The junior partner stayed late at his desk that night. It was after five when at length he thrust open the door of hia room and walked out into the Grierson's Romance BY PORTER E. BROWNE. T who, was chairs, Smith, Copyright l'.W by TLoinu H. Mc K-e. HE senior partner rose as the Junior member of the firm, in response to his request, entered the room. "Mr. Grierson," he said to the third occupant of the pri vate . office, with hat and cane balanced on knee, lolling back in one of the massive "1 want you to know Mr. our new confrere, who will take care of whatever case you may desire to place in his hands. 1 am very sorry, but I myself must be off at once for Washington. You'll pardon me, I'm sure." And, nodding to the prospective client who ac knowledged both introduction and leave-taking by a curt inclination of the bead, the senior partner withdrew. The junior partner surveyed the man before him and mentally categorized him as a man about town who would be very popular with other men about town, and with women w-ho do not know what the average man about, town is. "Well?"' said the junior partner. The pause was beginning to be a bit awkward. Mr. Grierson fumbled with his cane and began to trace an arabesque, lazily, upon the thick carpet at his feet. "Er I have a rather delicate matter to lay be fore you," he said. His voice was easy and deeply musical. "Yes?" "The fact is," he continued slowly, "I'm in love." "Not an unusual case," smiled the junior part ner. "The trouble is that the woman I love is the wife of another man.'' "Again, and unfortunately, not unusual," com mented the junior partner lightly. "And I want to see if there isn't some way In which she can secure a divorce.'' "The usual grounds for divorce in this state " began the junior partner. But the other inter rupted. "Are not applicable in this particular case, I'm afraid," he said. "Her husband, so far as I can learn, behaves himself pretty well too well. He's what we used to call at college a 'grind'; r.': of those pluggers that are so wrapped up in th:" business that they 'have no time for their wives. He's a lawyer, too; connected with some firm down town, and I understand he's a very good one. And, as I say, he's all tied up with his business, and he neglects bis wife shamefully." The junior partner shook his head. "Deplora ble, of course," he said, "but we don't handle cases of that kind, you know." The other looked tip impatiently. "I know I know,' he said curtly. "But I want good lawyers. main office. As he stepped across the threshold there was a sudden Bcraping of quickly moved chairs, and a little startled cry; and there stood before him a confused clerk, and a blushing stenographer, rea faeed, nervous-fingered. A harsh reprimand was on the junior partner's tongue; but something, he knew not what; bold it for an instant and in that instant the clerk, embar rassed, hesitating, stammered: "I'm eh very sorry, sir eh but eh that is Miss Warren and I--eh are engaged eh sir that is, sir going to be marred, you know, sir and " Tbe confused clerk stopped and he and the blushing stenographer stood, amazed, speechless: for their dreaded employer had turned on his heel without a word, and going back into the private office bad closed the door behind him. Once there, be seated himself at his desk, head between bands, eyes gazing steadly out through the broad windows to where tbe dark sky melted into the yet darker earth. It was but a little incident a mere nothing; yet one' of those nothings that are everything, for it had opened up a vista of memory that bad been shut to his eyes for more years than he cared to think; and yet he was still a young man. As bis cab turned the corner of the block on whioh was bis residence, he saw his wife's brough am at the door. And, even as he started to as cend the steps she appeared before him gowned for the street. "Where are you going?" he asked. "You!" she exclaimed. "You're very late. I though that probably you had been called out of town again and I was going over to see Jane Madison for a moment. She's er in trouble of some kind and wants my advice.' "I've been doing a lot of thinking this after noon," he said slowly. "May I drive around to the Madisons with you and tell you what I've been thinking?" "Why er yes, of course," she replied hesitat- ' ingly. "But it's only a little way. you know, and I er well, t wouldn't afford ns but a very short time, so perhaps you drather "' "Well?" "Er nothing. Only Ive had a headache all day and I fear I shall be very stupid; and I know bow you hate stupid people. . . Isn't it some thing that can wait?" He shook his head. "It can't wait," he said. "I'll go with you." She inclined her head slowly. "As you wish." she acquiesced. "Perhaps we'd better not go to the Madisons; I'll see Jane to-morrow insteaj of to-night. Shall we drive in the park instead?" . "That would be much better,"' he said, as he.as sisted her into the brougham. "Thank you." Giving a curt order to tbe driver, he took his seat beside her in the carriage, and silently they rolled over the smooth asphalt toward the park entrance. "Well?'' she asked lightly, "what is it you wish to tell me?" "A man came to me to-day. he said slowly, "to ask me how he migh get another man's wife." There was a long pause, broken only by the sound of horses' hoot's and the rumble of wheels. "What did you advise?'' she asked in a strained voice. V "He had already made her fond of him by giv ing her all that be might of what her husband did. not give her. aand she had grown to look t him for love and sympathy and mental companionship that she could not get from her husband. . I told him to go to her and carry -her by stoTm, to domi nate her by sheer strength and decision, to compel ratber than ask. to force rather than plead. "It was very good advice," she said hurriedly. "It was very good advice." She laughed a little. He started, then turned slowly and looked at her. "It was very good advice," she repeated again. "That Is one reason why I tell you of It," he said gravely. "And the other reasons for I presume that there are other reasons?" "Many. But the greatest is that I want you to know that I realize the depths of my own shame and degradation that I know the wrong I have done in tbe list for dollars, I have forgotten many things that I should have remembered. Ignored many things that I should have considered. I want you to know these things; and then I want you to help me try to right the wrong that I may have done; for I too, feaf that my advice was good.'' - "What do you mean?" "I do not know the woman. You may." "What is her name?" "That is what I dont know. But you are much in society. If I tell you' the man it may disclose to you the identity of the woman." "Possibly," she assented. "And the man is 1" "Grierson Thomas Lloyd Grierson.' Her fan dropped to the carriage floor. He stooped and, picking it np handed it to her. "You know him?' he asked. She nodded. z "And now do' you know, the woman?" There was a long pause. There came to them from afar, the thousand noises of the city. "Well?" he said, at length, tentatively. She did not answer. He waited. Still she did not answer. At length she turned a little toward him, head .tilted backward, shoulders against the carriage side. . "I am the woman," she said; and again, "I am the woman.' He gazed at her, his staring eyes expressive of his unbelief. "Your advice was better than you knew,' she said, with a bitter little laugh. "You came home none too soon." "You mean " he cried. "Look!" she cried. He bent forward and gazed through the win dow, his eyes following the direction of her fan. The sickly halo of a lamp-post revealed the figure of a man, seated on a bench. He was smoking a cigarette and tracing impatient arabesques with his cane in tbe gravel at his feet. It was Grierson, the junior partner's client of the afternoon. She was speaking again: "I was to meet bim , there. Now you know all. I don't know why I tell you. but you bad better let me go! You did ' not need me you did not want me. There was no place in your life for me, nor in mine for you. And I had starved as long as it was in me to starve. -Let me go! You cannot want, me now! Let me ' go!" It was all In a breath, quivering, tense; and npw she had buried her- face in her hands and her lithe body shook with the painful racking of her sobbing. He sat gaxing out into the tree-studded darkness of the park, his eyes set, his breath lab ored. Through; tbe Jim-lit darkness tbey rode in si lence that was utter save for the broken choking of her sobs, the clatter of hoofs, his breathing, and the rumble of wheels. Suddeny Ire leaned forward and signalled to the ; driver. "Home, Dawes,' he said. - Her hands fell from her pale, drawn face. She looked up at him with vague inquiry, her glance v presently softening. "Home?" she whispered questioningly. .Then, -Home!" she cried Joyously. "Home!"- .