The San Francisco call. [volume], October 20, 1907, Page 7, Image 7

About The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913

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Tlie San Francisco Sunday CalL
THROUGH FIRE
David Graham Phillips
IN Isew York the wine of prosperity
ran In tha streets, and the Intoxica
tion of audacious adventure satu
rated the sir. Lean years and their
lessons were forgotten; the talk was all
of making and spending large sums of
rroney. Tha market places were yleld
ing>rich spoils, which were being poured
cut for new and grander palaces, for
pictures and statuary and tapestries, for
eplendld entertainments and for equip
ages, gowns and jewels. Out-of-town
people stood agape before the endless
panorama of prodigal luxury.
This was tha hour chosen by Fate
for an ironic blow at Garlan & Co.
Young Garlan. the senior partner oy
Inheritance, had foreseen the coming
good times. He cast aside the maxims
of prudence on which his father had
built up the great firm. Dragging his
disheveled but exhilarated older part
ners with him, he ventured boldly. In
his overconfldence he miscalculated and
what should have been a dazzling suc
cess proved a hopeless failure.
He was on his way up Fifth avenue
_to play his last card. If he could tide
over the next five days he would win,
and the stock certificates and bonds
on the seat of the carriage beside him
would be worth three millions, at
least; If not, they would be worth sev
eral hundred thousand less than noth
ing at all. Surely r»ld Masham would
•see the advantages of "tiding . him
over" — If not as a. business proposi
tion, then, certainly, as a matter of
sentiment. It seemed absurd to think
of sentiment In connection with the
coldest as well as richest money lender
in New York; but was not Frederick"
Masham Garlan his namesake? Had
tnot his father and Masham been "Nat"
and "Joe" together in the village up
on the Canadian border? Had they not
come to New York together and for
haTf a century fought side'liy side, or
back to back, as the posture of the
battle made expedient?
In . very cold weather Masham no
longer ventured down town. So young
Garlan, with his hopes — he refused to
harbor doubts — and his securities, was
going to the big bare house that looked
e.s if It had been taken for debt, when
partly furnished, and never finished. A
sickening cense of doubt, of fear, came
over him at the first glimpse of that
cheerless hsll and of the overworked,
underpaid old woman who opened the
door. He remembered the. last time he
had seen the old man — two years be
fore, when, after repeatedly warning
Gcrlan that he liked neither his busi
ness methods nor his private conduct.
he had gone' to his office to withdraw
his account. "I never expected to live
r to sea the banking house of Nat Gar
lan changed into a gambling. den, and
changed by his son," he had said. Gar
lp.n hod laughed contemptuously at the
"old fogy" then; he etlll believed that
Mashaxa's prejudices rather than sound
Judgment had dictated . the denuncia
tion, but — "He must, he rau«t let me
htve the money," Garlan said, setting
hip jaw against forebodings as he wait
ed for the rheumatic maid to toll up the
fcielrs with his card.
He heard oU Masham's voice — It
came from above with a fateful, sepul
chral echo, and said: "H'm! That
young gambler! — chow him -jp."
Garlan's. hopes fluttered on the verge
of flight as he ascended. At sight of
the old man they fled. In rusty broad
cloth, xrith a faded quilt wrapped about
his v/cazencd legs, he v^as seated before
a radiator. His cracked and shriveled
skin was of the color and texture of
his leather chair. "And what <"So you
•want?" He always betran an *nifrv!«w
•with that ouestion. No one ever came
to see him except to ask for something,*
and he wished to save loss of time In
beating about the bush.
"I've brought some securities on
trhlch I wish to borrow half a mil
lion." Garlan tried to keep despair
and desperation out of his voice. -He
extended the bundle toward Masham.
Masham loooked sourly at him for
several seconds before reaching out his
yellow, clawlike hand. He ran his eyes
over the titles. "Securities?"'' "»,he
sneered, handing them back; "you may
call them securities, but I call them
dead cats. Not a penny! Is that all?"
Garlan's face was gray, his lips pur
ple, and there were deep circles under
his eyes. He stood there, young and
straight,' with Imagination and senti
ment as well as shrewdness and bold
ness, and sensitiveness also, in the
lines of his features. So crushed was he
that the Insult made no impression upon
him. "I must have the money, or we
are ruined," he said. "You know that.
In any other than the extraordinary
circumstances of the moment, I could
easily realize on these. You know that,
-within a week, they will be worth more
' than their face."
"Ruined, eh?" Masham's voice was
bard end triumphant. For two years
he had been prophesying ruin for young
Garlan, and he felt and showed . the
pious joy of a vindicated prophet.
"Ruined, eh? I thought so; and you
want me to foot the bills of your little
fling." His dry, cackling laugh was as
sure and merciless In Its reach as the
knife of a skilled vivisectlonlst.
Garlan's athletic ehoulders drooped.;
He tras staring over the old man's
head Into a black abyss. He felt the
ground sinking beneath his feet. He
tried to wet his <ry lips with his. dry
tongue. Then he succeeded In articu
lating tha words that cut Into the very
heart of his pride — "For my father's
sake."
M*rh»™ lifted himself in his chair
and began shrieking at him. "For your
father's sake? You impudent young
puppy 1 If your father were here he'd : be
the first man to indorse whatTm doln*.
You've sinned away your day o'erace.
An* ye don't get none o' my hard earned
money to throw after . yer father's
fortune an* his name— yes, you young
spendthrift, an' ;my name, too."
The old man's .. English returned . to .
tha dialect cf his youth as his testper
rosa. O«rlan. quivered,. and drew him
self up haughtily. "You are Insulting!
I have disgraced' no one,- sir." i
"No. I don't suppose you . do ; call it
disgrace. But what is disgrace/ 1 want
to know. If bankruptcy ain't. If waste
fulness: ain't, if squanderin' other peo
ple's monpy In gamblln' an* high livln'
•in't? You.' with that horde of houses
an* servants, an* that there wife o*
yourn' bein* gabbled about In the pa
pers for parties and : clothes an* dla
raon's! Disgrace! , No, I don't suppose
either one o' you calls It disgrace,"
Garlan stalked from the room to'es
cape from the insults to hU wife." and
heard the last sentence atr be was de
scending. Yet. at the foot cf the stairs,
the horror of the situation swept over
htm. and he paused, debating/ whether
or not to return and make; one last ef
fort. "It's no use." he decided. ; and
pride had no part in the conclusion. .
He entered bis carriage, __ and- it
whirled tjp the avenoe.. He- alway*
drove at a great pace, and. as his "turn
out" was perfect to tha smallest details;
of boots and buttons, he attracted much
attention. But that day the admiring
or envious or curious . glances from
humbler .vehicles and the sidewalks did
not tickle his vanity. He shrank into
the corner, feeling like a fraud, an ad
venturer. ' "Tomorrow," he said,,"l shall
be found out,.tfegra.ded. jeered at. How
they will; laugh, as "they, remember how
I drive by today."
The carriage drew op at the curb,
and ha awakened from hts absorption'
tn his Imminent, humiliations, business
and social. A footman sprang from the.
box. another hurried " down the eteps.
and the two, with serious faces, as if .
their work were, arduous and-impor
tant, assisted each other at opening
the carriage door. Garlan glanced at
them, then up the steps, where two more
men servants, also with serious, anx
ious faces, were waiting to perform the
laborious and grave, duties of bowing
him* Into the house and helping him
out of his wraps.v Theretofore this
performance and its like had pleased
him — had eeemed a necessary part of
the station which he thought he/occu
pied. That day. however, he saw it
from a new viewpoint. "Four— with
the coachman, five— great, strapping
fellows," he thought, "degrading them
selves and helping to -debase me! Tm
no better than they. How hollow it all
is! I wonder what I do really count
for. really amount to— l. stripped of my
pompous livery? If It were not for
her—"
He looked at the butler, who was
standing with eyes respectfully down
cast. "Is madam in?"
"No, sir. She went out in the vic
toria, half, an hour ago; sir. She said
ehe'd return at 5 o'clock, sir."
Garlan was relieved. He reflected *i
moment. Should he tell her that night?
No. it would not help matters, and
would prevent her from sleeping.
"Please tell her," he said to the butler,
: "that I wish 'o be excused from dinner.
And — I do not wish to be disturbed, as
I ehall be very busy",
He locked himself In his study- — Im
mediately behind the small reception
room to the left, on the entrance floor.
At 8 he had part of the dinner brought
to him; at half past 8 he rang for the
servant to take away the tray. Then
he resumed his "work" — toiling away
at a furmofl of memories and forebod
ings, .wandering aimlessly, and flrear
lly from' might-have-beens td must-bes
and back again. The burden of It all
was how to tell her, how ehe would
"take" it, and what could be done
for or with her ,In that impossible
hereafter. He had not given her or
permitted her, to get ttae slightest hint'
of what was coming. Poverty for him
self was tragic enough. Poverty for
her — or anything but luxury that
would leave no fancy un gratified — was*
unthinkable.'^
Toward S> o'clock there was a faint
knock. He recognized it. but did not .
answer. "Usually she goes away when
I pretend not to hear." he said to him
self. But the knock came again — timid,
yet persistent. "Perhaps she suspects — .
has beard something somewhere." He
felt that it would .be a relief for. her
to begin the talk he was dreading and
postponing. He opened the door.
he" exclaimed feigning sur
prise. *
"Yes— may. I come in — -for a moment
only?" asked his . wife, advancing into
the room.
"What can I do for you?" As he
asked the question it flashed into hts
mind that old Masham's way. of be
ginning a conversation had become his
own. He had not thought of this be
fore—and j*t he used It even toward"
his wife.
"I don'.t<jwant anything," she said.
Impatiently; "at least — :wlth a smile
— "only a compliment. How do. you
like me In your present?", she Inquired,
turning round and round to exhibit the
beautiful wrap of chiffon lined' with
ermine that enswathed her from neck
to heels.
"It is very becoming," he said, ' In a
strained, absent* voice. She thought
his mind was on his business, but he
was thinking of her — 'fragile, yet
healthy, her skin clear and dark, her •
features, especially her eyes and fore
head, sensitive and intelligent. The
blue veinß showed in a faint, fascinat
ing tracery on her cheeks, shoulders,
and bosom- "A typical product of lux
ury, utterly unfit for adversity," he
said to himself, sick at heart. "Onjy
a hothouse could produce or /preserve
such a plant. She will pine, she will
die — and die hating me." .
There was an uneasy silence. He
longed for her to go. He was still
standing near the door, *aud said:
"Won't you be very late for the.op
era?" Buty she/ threw., back her." wrap
and seated herself. . _\u0084
She shrugged her shoulders. What
does it matter? It bores me to think
of going, almost as much as it bores
me to think of sitting at home. alone.
It seems to me that life Is a terribly
silly and tlr<*ome farce. There is
either nothing to do or something that
seems worse than nothing. Everything
looks so well and tastes so flat or bit
ter! But I suppose you don't under- ;
-stand or sympathize— you , have your",
work, your career, your great; projects
and triumphs." «
He Winced, and on the pretext of
lighting a cigarette moved /where she
could not Bee his face.
"But," ehe threw up her arms and
let them drop. • If he'had been watch-
Ing her cloeely he would have observed
that. her eyes were feverish and that
she was under a strain. ' 'Tm so'horrl-
bly bored. I don't blame /you in the
least for preferring your work. . No,
don't interrupt me, . for I know what ,
you would say, about keeping and add
ing to the foitune necessary to;main
tain this," and she waved her hand
about : the handsomely- furnished . room; V
* typical of the whole House. "But you,
can't wonder • that ~so ; many women, '
placed as. l am. rush off into— into > all .
sorts of things."
She paused, , rose and stretched ; put
her arms in, a -queer mock appeal.
"Save me, Frederick, or I perish!" -she
exclaimed. , ".'Save me from my bored
self:" She uttered a, laugh,' but. there
was a tremble in It and 'a sort of gasp
—or was It' a* sob?—^at r the end.';
He smiled to himself -.-bitterly. "How
she'd welcome such boredom," he
thought, "if she . could; choose between '
if and the cpnsequences of what will;
happen tomorrow!" To • her \u25a0he said:
"Now you "can" sweep grandly, and com-;
f ortably '- away : to the opera.. You've ;
eased . your " mind. As if luxury; and
Idleness were not as the" breath of /your ;i
\u25a0nostrils 'to you I I wish I could go with a
you;. but I must beg' off. this evening.
Fm very busy \u25a0 and I must -go to : bed
soon. I'll need my best brain tomorrow
— -and need it early."
"Busy— always busy!" ;„ she, inter
rupted, holding out her wrap to , him.
M You have time for everybody, except
your friends— and your, wife." As he
puf the wrapabout her shoulders and
kissed her. gently on the hair, ..she
turned and looked up at.hlm.. "Won't
you corned' she pleaded. "I-heed you
this evening; and if" you will I'll cut
the supper at Mrs. Preston's and come
home with you."'
"Impossible," ; he exclaimed. The very
idea. of facing, all' those people; in the
opera house gave ;Vilm ; a shock. "s?°
and enjoy yourself while you can." '-'
A reckless look -came into her eyes.
"Good night." she" said. '-, \u25a0- .'"Don't forget
— you- wouldn't come, -though I begged
you. Good night.' Fm going where
Tm welcome." \
Alone again, he turned down the
lights and threw himself on the divan
against the folding doors that separ
ated the study from the * reception
room. His brain was aching, and pain
and weariness throbbed through his
veins to every part of his body. .He
lay for an hour : or more without mo
tion, and then fell asleep. "*He was
awakened by voices heard faintly but
clearly -through the thick 'door be
tween; him and the reception room.
"But— l— you knbw : how I \ care • for
you — more than any one* else— so ; much
that I think only. of .you— " It; was a
man's voice,' Morrill's. He had been. at
the house a great deal of late.
"There— there— that will do," came
the answer, in his wife's voice. "I ln
. vited ; you • in here ; out of the cold
through mercy, not to hear a confes
sion. Sheep dogs must, not bite and
must be most careful how they^bark;
and when they have put . the . sheep
safely into the fold .they must trot
quietly and respectably, home."
Garlan smiled. . "Good girl, Harrl
ettef She can take care of herself."
"Hariette^ — dear!"; At these words,
uttered by Morrill in a tone that.c ert
ainly seemed 1 sincere, Garlan made
ready - ; to : leap up and ;. drive ' him from
the house; but. he sank back,: as his
wife replied:: . . . : Vj
"I suppose I ought to , silence you -or
send you " away. - But—l wondor-~do \u25a0
you really care? • No, I don't want'you*
to \u25a0 protest. ; But, S oh, I don't know
what I want."
VTou're everything to me. It breaks
my heart to have you;, so; lonely and
sad. I know i you've never; felt or. re-^
ceived ' real love— the love that un-.
demands, that Is always .about "one
like air. Had .you shown any one. else,
(Tm 'any one else,'," thought Garlan.
In a fury at the .youth and ardor and
conviction in Morrill's voice) even what
you've shown .me of : your true self, J I
should never "have: had' the chance-^
for It is a chance, isn't itr' ;.
"I — i don't know. I think not." Har
riette spoke; regretfully, as If she
wished that she could say that ; she
thought "yes." . l
"There Is a chance.7 Insisted Morrill.
"I shall wait and hope land try . to
deserve you;.and I shall ,wln you! ;.I
want to make you happy— honorably
happy."
"Happy?" (she Interrupted, and -her
voice was so sad that it .arrested . her.
husbands rising \u25a0 angeK". "If I could
believe that, or half .of it! I thought
once before that I iwas to ; be happy,'
for I was promised :; happiness 'Just as
faithfully as you seem to be promts
ing, it now. Don't; thlnk> I blame any
one ("I'm 'any. one Y^'l thought /Garlan),
for I don't. It must/ be ,my "tempera
ment—or something; else. " All I' know
is that I'm so * bored all the ; time, -and
miserable most; of -the/ time, that I
think I must fly!" ' *
;*'l . can : and will make you happy,"
Morrill spoke / with enthusiasm. "Free
yourself,* Harriette! :_ A; ; year— -less,
;even-— and you can ; be free;;; free \to
start/ life • again. .No matter; what j you
decidedi to do;;afterward,;you ow8 ; it
to yourself to free yourself. TYou "cah- :
nof, you "."ought not, to live, on in/this
way.";-"" : - : " : -*-:"- ; :"^:'.' ?-*".''v'i.-:; :
• "A train •of thought, like ', powder; on,
fire, flashed . across Garlan's/ mind.
"I'm ruined. '- She will i desert ; me,' and
whynot? What "right :havo I i to, hold'
her ' back. It is all -my f ault-r-all— all VI
He realized that, /while "he: bad \ been":
deceiving himself . Into /believing he
did not look to* her in this /crisis/- he<
in reality, had : been \u25a0 relyinglupon ' her—
her. love, her, sympathy— as \u25a0 the last,"-;
but. the strong^bulwark f between i him
and utter despair./ It- seemed
that there Twas fan \ explosion in; his
head.' as if the.flery, powder)trainshad;
touched . the great /central , magazine."
He gave . a loud cry and ,' became «un
conscious; >*-'\u25a0-•/* .;
Wkhen- he returned: to^ his.. senses^he''
again heard voices— his wife's and Mor
rill's.l; But i the f were »"near /, him
and the room "was » flooded .wl th light. - ".
; . VI J say ' go !" : his - wife' was command-:
Ing./ \u25a0-, \u25a0\u25a0" H- ' "."'•\u25a0 ; >-- -:-: ; ;: -\u25a0' '\u25a0
'\u25a0\u25a0'.\u25a0; "And I ' say> I .will" not,"= . Morrill re
plied. 7 "I must i bear : 'i i t z with you. / : it.
was imy fault. ;' Besides, > why/ should jl]
sneak "away? I am neither- ashamed
nor; &tr&iA"/ : yy f L .j i^S^SsfSBtUBBSBs
\u25a0Garlan" drew, himself .to i.a sitting posl-, 1
tion, and,.' with' j his j handkerchief wlpedi
away Hha; dampness of /the 1 cold water;
that -had been X put;' on his ; forehead.'
"You*are right,", he said, gently to 3dor
rlll;i"stay! Therels no cause for
shame ' or. fear to any one .here—^ex
cept—nie." Then he turned to his wife.
"Will you leave ua? : . Don't think I'm
repjoacbing you. A few weeks ago—
yes," a few days ago," 1 1 - should have—
have^-but no matter. /Please leave me
unlil tomorrow, won't "you?" He/got
upon h}s feet a little unsteadily.^ ;
She : came near him and looked ' up at
him anxiously, very pale and wide eyed.
"Frederick^ — you don't believe that
j— j \u25a0 »» i . . '"y,' •
"No, dear; no." He Bmlled, sadly.
/^lndeed I don't. I would have trusted
you, I .do trust youi. absolutely." He
lifted her right hand to his lips and
led her to the door. '. ;' : :;.. "";\u25a0
Morrlll nerved himself for a storm;
he felt that Garlan had been merely
displaying unusual capacity for self-,
control. "What an; Influence she must
have Vover him," 'he ; thought, "that ho
Is able to restrain himself!" When she
had gone, Garlan, t» ho bad been look
ing after her down the hall,. closed .the
door, and, with his face still inscruta
able.sald: "Be seated, please. ;You'll
find cigars and* cigarettes at* your el
bow." \u25a0
•' '.Thanks, no," paid Morrlll, and he
waited for the other .to begin.
.;•- -Jl l shan't 4 detain . you ; long," Garlan
began.Sl"l merely wish to reassure my
self: ahout you. 1 ;, / He ; studied : Morrlll's
face \\caxefullyj and »calmly. ; -. 'I've \u25a0 al- !
ways, had a good oplnion^of ?you," he
went on, "and, -listening to you! a few
minutes ago"— this with a .trace of
Irony In his cold ': volce-^"I got a still
more favorable impression,' not of you,
but of' your sincerity. 3 Even In' my
present humble state,*. it. can hardly be
expected that I should" approve of . this—
custom-^— of young men proposing to
young women '•. who are still hampered;
let us say, by husijands. But I don't es
pecially blame you In the circumstances.
I'nr.ln.ajmjood'to see things clearly, or
queerly, *: as you please. .My wife
encouraged you,'; and I drove my wife
sway ; from me; As you've seen during
the last ; few. months— and . I must say
you showed It plainly In' your face all
along— l've been a very poor excuse' of
a husband." , ':
: Morrill shifted uneasily in \u25a0 his chair.
Had Garlan. gone mad?
* '.'I see. you ;: don't understand," Gar
lan continued./ : "The point is that I
am a . ruined man. we go
into bankruptcy-ra"; ghastly, wreck.:/ I
do not wish my' wife to'cuffer on my
accounts ; I;- had the chance with her,
but I threw ; it*, away.' To * be ; brief, I
propose i to ; free . her."
."But; she will" never desert you In
those circumstances!" Morrlll ex
claimed.,.
Garlan looked '.at him coldly. "I
propose to; free her," he repeated. .,
Morrill looked:. at him ; In a. puzzle<J
way. Suddenly he; grew pale. ' "You
don't niean—". he said, 'slowly.
.-. Garlan . seemed' : nut to \u25a0 have heard
him. \u25a0 "If ' it 'should;, ever , happen," he
went \u25a0 on, ; in; a" monotonous voice, look
ing straight 1 ahead :of him,: "that you
should /happen' to; have the 'chance to
make • some \ woman happy, . I . hope. ; for
your own \u25a0-: sake as well . as / for j hers,
you won't forget :, this,, lesson. The
time .may come,' v the .time- will come,
when all : the) .material' '^things, the
things ; men most ; value : and; seek, will
fall to 'pieces, when you will turn "for
If You're Looking for^a Job Don't Wear a Gold Pin
E. Talbot Price
IT was i a tie 'pin, 1 : it was a gold itie
pin, . and* it was ,"a " gold tie pin* with
the . cunningest little '; fox's .head
on It?* > But V it was not a diamond
pin. What ; further ' achievements it
might *"' have • accomplished, ; J or :> accom
plißhments;^ it_ ; might hava achieved,;
what \u25a0deeper recesses of the human
heart It might have illumined with*
that : resplendent \u25a0 gleam, I leave to ]thj
reader Jto \u25a0 imagine. . Suffice \it to say—,
it was; a' gold: pin. "- ; .
This pin . had 'i been ! given ; to . me ; some .
years ' back ; onTmy > birthday; .j no i doubt
In honor/of /my; hitherto pll- ;
grlmage jand! : preservation " in life,- and,
although l l had? of ten^felt^like.Xelson:
of \u25a0' old— -who," by.' the : way, :la - an ; arices-^"
tral > connection 76f :' mine-^that; \u25a0";\u25a0 .as ' in
honor I'hadiwon it,so inhonor.l should;
wearj it; '\u25a0> nevertheless/;^ not Scaring fon
display^ and ' ostentation, 1 ? • tho i gold ]-, pin '
had'i been consigned •; tol the ; depths lof a
little V boxfcf'of :'\u25a0'• odds J and U ends/ Now,"
however;'., the : - time'i had j come ;\ to ; show
my t colors - and ;' stand * upon': ray) digni ty, ,
and " so v the :\: \ pin' j_ was 'J hauled t- out ~\ and '
planted « in' a"; conspicuous iposltionTbni a;
conspicuous tle. ? -t Although;. without em
ployment," and with 'only. J2; and ; a'jfrac-j
tion;in;'the^world,"vliifelt^thus^armed,'
like : a" gentleman f of ,' leisure at- large. : ;
I jumped? onla; carjand? made \ forj;the \u25a0
business '^center 2i2 in V search'^of »bccupa-J» bccupa-J
tlon;' .The^ car being i I Iwas
obligedtto 'Stand; ;. Soon,'i however,* l i'ob-i
served Uh'at ;; a '\u25a0- manjwho) faced { me was
looklng^at -~ my, tie.;; A"* moment < after
wardihe" arose; and ;offered<mo; hit seat^
"I don't^want to ;v take ?youry seat,"; I
said, but I he ' insisted, ' so < I ', took t it-^on '\
the .'principle 1 that even '-. a , fig cis ac
ceptable jifi it 3 1 »U« % into| one's lap, ,as
Eplctetus discovered Jong ago.'. :-. .
\u25a0-< When • tha ? business : section 'of v the
support to the things that have seemed
weak' and email, the sentimental things
to which, it -may be, m your; pride and
arrogance, : s«ou have thought yourself
Huperlor. When that crisis shall come—
and It comes to every : man sooner | or.
later — if you heed this; lesson you may
find -what I reach out my hands for — in
vain..; If you do not, you'll have only
yourself to blame."
Morrlll's eyes filled, -with tears.. -'You
seem much; older than I tonight," he
said, "but. you're not; and I can't help
saying that I don't think you ought
to let yourself be crushed by. this one
blow. Other men have: failed and re-
: covered. YYou .'will - recover .' and be
stronger" and better -than ever before."
"You are: very kind."' Garlan's sar
casm ;was not concealed.. "And now,
I shall not ; detain you any longer."
He accompanied Morrill* to the front
door. "Good night," he said. .
"One moment, ; please!" Morrill spoke
earnestly, impulsively. "It's she; what
you overheard, I'm sure. I must say it;
it's only honorable that I should: Tm
convinced, now,; by a thousand things I
didn't think important* before, that she
has never; cared: and i never could care
for me, butthatlfs you she cares for;
that 1 It's been your/ neglect— "
i "Good ; night!" Garlan shut the door
'sharply. ; \u25a0 x : . •'
:r : When back In his; study the. young
'man locked the door and dropped into; a
.chair, near, 1 the fire/ Hope? .. Recovery?
With everything, he and she; had lived
for; since swept away? Im
possible.-: He had 'played .the "game and
, lost. ".\u25a0 He had : manhood* enough, surely,
not to . stake his wife— -his wife who
was longing to be free. When she
knew. ; : the truth concerning him,"
learned of the bankruptcy, the destruc
tion of the great, name hia father had
built . up. tha , wiping . out of the great
fortune, and that nothing was left but
a long and bitter struggle in poverty
and obscurity— ;t§|ESsßS3S
He was interrupted by a knock at tha
door. . How well, he knew: it! How many
times he had answered its timid lnsist
; ence . with an j impatient, almost discour
teous intimation that he did not wish
to be disturbed. -He \u25a0turned, opened his
lips to answer, sighed and turned again
to : the fire.- The knock/ came once
more, and, after an interval," a third
time. A long pause ensued and then he
heard a faint rust ling,- as .of a ' woman
moving, reluctantly, and -there was .'al
ienee.
"/'.'Masham/ was right," ha reflected,
'.'except about her: It's all. my fault —
vanity, folly, . stupidity." >" He- went to
his desk- and drew out the* top. drawer
as far as possible. From the last com
partment he took * a pistol.
"Why not?" he' said. "Yes-^— lt Is the
sensible way.. 1 Every one will approve
and the whole score will be wiped out.
'And— l; shall not have to. tell her— to
see her." ' .
At thls;he put "the pistol back into
the drawer. "It would ; be . sheer cow
ardlce 4 t0,d0 it tonight," he said. "But
tomorrow- — — "
At 9 o'clock the next . morning he
telephoned to his partners that he could
not, join them at the wreck until noon.
It^was 10:30 when his wife came down,
dressed for a drive,- her; maid following
her with her furs, and' the butler and
two footmen waiting in -.the: hall with
laprobes and extra wraps and • foot-
city naa seen reacnea, I went to, a big
building. -Tho'.:. elevator was full ~ and
Just about to, start .when the /elevator
ljoy, ; catching sigh t of what was on my,
tie." j flung i the metal: door: wide open,
swept '\u25a0\u25a0, back I the\ crowd-, of .> passengers
with the ; air of one who , says, "Here
comes a capitalist!" and gave me en
trance. \u0084;;„;.. \u25a0\u25a0", -:s.' .- ;•!.; /
f Some days after. these little incidents
-7-my-: total \u25a0; funds J could \ be \u25a0[ counted in
cents~l ; directed ?my steps toward a
jeweler's shop, -at which I had : some
times gazed " in ; passing. ; I was ; still
wearing « the ;; gold , pin." but '•; I
to ; see ; whether; there were ; anyi slml-;
lar^ ones '-: In Z that, window ;in. order* to
ascertain; how; much it 'might;, be worth
in 'case it ; should \u25a0 be "necessary, to pawn"
it. '\u25a0--:[ The - jeweler, yon a' ; -prevlous v oc- :
casioh > when I jwas not .wearing the gold
pin,?, had • come (out- while j I i persistently
looked* at : the contents of his 'shop and
had | accosted s me ' thus:"; "If /you i vant
to \u0084vy; a/vatch, : \u25a0 vy , a vatch, ' vut \lf \u25a0 you
don't '.vant \to vy; a h vatch, ; valk avay
f rom;'de^ vjndow." ;, ;\u25a0 Now,-, however, "i he*
cameYout'; to^tho' door ; with a scraping
motion Uof : his :nether ; limbs '; and
of washing £ movement % ots his - hands
and | said : ' J-. "I ,- *ee:-' you .: are . a^ chentle- ;
man", uv : : means, ]\u25a0 vlll -• you^ not'- please to
vy ! % yun of .\u25a0 my < eggscellent '< vatches, .or,
some * chewlry ZeM£s£&i£&UfiEtßß&t9Bß
\u25a0V: Next -dayi was • Sunday ;' and <I j went ito
church with the gold 'pin in my tie. I
couldn't ;helpTnoticlng,*i a's I was J In, the
fifth ? pew ;.f rbm U the tj front, \u25a0 . that * the
choirglrls; kept: nudging Teach I other, and
looking my .way.?, w hen. the time' came
for ; the I offertory" v you ;; could I sea - their
ears e straining; with'; interest -to^catch
the sound 'of -.what II; put in the ) plate.
They^dldn't , hear- much; o however, '2 for
the r sound \ was \ completely; absorbed _by
tha- \ velvet » at s thai, bottom ; of \ the ) plated
my "coin being, a dime. Still, onmy .way ,
out : of church' the -sexton .^showed"; an
alarmhigr eagerness to hands
warmers and carrlagaboots.^ Harriett© '
always drove \tn~. a"l victoria, no matter
how .cold. It -might be." ;
"May I drive with you?" hesaid. com
\ Ing suddenly . from - his study.^SHßSHp
, > She was pale and ~ but •at sight
of him> her face ; brlghfened. r "Why!
I inquired .early . this , morning and .they
. told me you. had. gone." \u25a0 -'- r \
r -"If did ° not ; wish" you to be disturbed."
ihe said. "You/ are >not; well-^— l; can
see. that; perhaps the^drive, will do you
g00d.".. His; manner and tone w-erc gen
tle and most friendly, but she could
not . decide whether- he was. sincere or
was feigning for the benefit of the ser
vants. . * .
They drove up the east side tb Cen
tral' park and . halfway back without
\u25a0\u25a0 speech: beyond- a few commonplaces.
As they neared the . Fifty r ninth street'
entrance, he said; to*, the coachman:
'Home, John!", then to her In a low
voice:, . "I have some news, some very
bad news.- Indeed. I can spare you —
or; rather, myself — no longer.?.'
She looked at. him appealingly," bat.
before she could speak, he,; added: \"lt
concerns . myself '—my . own affairs.
Only I— l— it will be a surprise to
you. 'But I will tell you when we are
In the house."
As the carriage stopped at * thetr
door a' boy "ywlth a bundle of papers
went by, f shouting: "Uxtreet Garlan
and company's .- big smash!"
She ; had .. just risen • from the seat.
She fell back into It. The servants
amazed, terrified by that stentorian
shout, had eyes only for>the'boy.
. :V. "My. dear- — rememberr* Garlan's voice
was gentle and calm.^ \u25a0 It reminded her,
\u25a0 : at ;' once, that . the \world was watching.
She : l recovered . herself Instantly, . > and
smiled brightly, at him. "Buy a paper,
'Frederick,"- she said. "No, let one : of
"the servants bring it." Then she Walked
.up the steps as unconcernedly as; If
- the routine of her life was undis
turbed. •. - r ;
-Frederick waited at the door while
the butler bought the paper.. "A crazy
looking man with long, ragged whisk
ers,"; paused and ; shook his fist at the
group^— the servants In ' livery . sur- .
rounding the" tall, distinguished young
ex-tpilHonaire. "Look' at. him! Look
at the impudence of '.', him!", shrieked
the "crank" • to . the : gathering crowd.
"There 4»a is— the" robber— the trampler
of the poor— -the miserable Wall streel
gambler and thief! See bis carriage
and all these pampered menials. Bah!"
—and he showed his teeth and shook
his fists In fantastic fury-
The crowd ; laughed. '?Go It, old
man!',' shouted one— "soak him!" The
newsboy, scenting business, ' redoubled
his - cries. "All about It! Only 1
cent! Here's, yer-uxtree!"
Garlan entered the door and tho
servants closed It. He was calm, but
they were so unnerved that they
dropped in succession his hat. coat and
gloves. He went; into his study, where
his wife was -waiting.
."Is that the- news?** she began, her
tone as if the door was still open ai.d
the servants- listening.
"Yes." He glanced at the huge,
black headlines — "A Two-Million-Dol
lar Smash!" etc, etc., then tossed the
paper on the, table. "The newspapers
anticipated me." He threw himself
into a chair. "Ruin!" _he said; "It's
all gone — everything— everything."
"All?" '
"Yes-^-aIL If I start again U must
be from - the bottom — no, below It.
There'll be several hundred thou
sands of debts; but. thank God, It's
fixed so that' no one except me will
be smashed."
"You'd be sure to see to that."
He looked at her. wondering at her
tranquil tone. "Of course It's only
words * to her.": he thought. "She
doesn't In the least understand, yet."
Then he began < to talk 6lowly, .much
as if he were explaining an intricate
matter to a child. • "It's not easy to tell
you. You'll have to give up all — this —
except, of course, your personal effects
and your property that I have charge
of. I took It out of the business as
soon as I saw . there was an uncer
tainty."
"But I thought you said everything
was gone." • '
He flushed. "And so It is. .But— l
didn't mean that I'd been speculating
; with your money. There Isn't any dis
honor — " .
"Didn't you put back my share, too?"
"How could IT* He looked away
and grew red. "That's hypocrisy," he
said. "I might as well make a clean
breast of it. Night before last I was
down there, going over everything and
looking about for straws to clutch at.
I thought of: your box of securities,
and I— l wen^ Into the safe, and— well,
I opened the box and took them out.
But I put them back again; and—yes
terday morning I got to thinking about
It."*- 1 was a, little afraid to trust my
self, for the temptation might have
come in stronger form. So I gave the
box over to old Prawley, and he'll sea
that It's not disturbed." \u25a0
- But — It would — " she hesitated and
seemed, to be thinking deeply. Pres
ently she went to her. desk and seated
herself. "You're sure you can do noth
ing to save us 7" she said, her pen sus
pended over the; paper. .
: He was staring gloomily at the floor.
"Nothing; It's as I've told you. Tve
nothing left but the debts. Tha as
signee's In charge by this time." He
started up, trembling, Impatient, look
ing wildly about. "But why am I
here?" He could .see In imagination
the, offices — the .crowd outside — the
angry .creditors— the partners, humili
ated, apologetic, cursing him for de
serting them. "I must go at once!" he
exclaimed.
with me. In token of silent.congratu
lation upon the legacy I must have re
ceived." But; at the evening service ho
got a, sad disappointment, for he took
it upon himself to pass the -plate
round my. direction, and I put nothing
In -It. When I looked, at him on my
way out of the sacred edifice that time
he evinced no sign of recognition.
»On, the'; Monday .morning before re
newing the hunt for employment I held
a consultation with ' my landlady, who
was tha only person apparently not
awed by r the gold pin. . Her demeanor
toward me. had, remained unaltered by
that significant ornaments although her
keen perceptive/ faculties had unques
tionably told . her-. that . my funds were
low.\ She" could see none of the usual
little luxuries:: ln my room, but only,
traces of a spare diet. It was useless
my ?telllng,, her ithat the i doctor had
suddenly ordered me to practice self
denial.; A Y. kindly v." gleam In her eye
told, me .that" she saw, through my
bluff but/ that .she would not demand
more rent In, advance as a consequence.
However, ;\u25a0: she * seemed 'Ito think there
was i : an^abundance of occupations In
San- Francisco, and -.the . difficulty ap
peared to, her to consist rather In de
ciding.! which ".'to choose. She thought
I: might! start; as : a /book agent or sub-"
scription collector 'for, a 'newspaper, or,
sell real /estate .or, ; mining V shares, or
drive :a*_ wagon,\or ; disguise ' myself -as
a bellboy, or take . the "air. as a car. con
ductor.' * ;., I pointed out* that \u25a0; these
things ..were "overdone ! and that the pay
accruing ; would not '\u25a0 admit . of 'my rent
ing h such •„ a "comfortable *rroom . as .. the
one *I 'i had lin \u25a0 her ; house. \u25a0'. In . this last
conslderatlon/l of course, she saw a
grave drawback.
; J Eventually: I decided upon a compro
mise.'.^.Thls '-, decision hras ; arrived at . as
a direct .result of / the "sympathy drawn
from* me by; the sight .' of ;a conference
being, held as •- 1 walked : down Van . Ness
avenue ''\u25a0 between a street sweeper, a
"Just a few minutes, please !~ sha
pleaded, looking up from her writing:.
He sat again, and his mind wandered
off in another direction. Bo could
not understand her manner, her tone.
Why did she not grasp tha situation?
It was unlike her to be thus slow.
Why did, not the reproaches, tha tears,
the exclamations of despair begin?
At length she finished, and rang for
a servant. . When he came, she cald:
"Take a cab — no, tha elevated railroad,
for - it's Quicker— and deliver thesa
notes at once, please.**
The /servant hurried away, afld she
stood ; at the mantel. looking down at
him. He glanced at her, when ha be
came conscious of the Intent gaze, and
was amazed to see that she was smil
ing, "not in madness or In folly, but
with eyes that 'made her seem to him
almost divine.
"No." . she said, softly, Vn not
ruined. You. were mistaken."
*Ha started up. Those notes? What
had she done? In her Ignorance of
business, had she made some appeal
that would put him In a false light?
"What do you mean?" ha demanded.
"What have you done? 1 *
"Oh!— the notes,** she said, folio-w
ing his train .of thought. "No — that
is not what I mean. I haven't sent
out any hysterical appeals for help.
The notes were only to correct an
error. I wrote Prawley to turn over.
to whoever was In charge, the securi
ties you put aside for me; and tha
other- note was to the firm — very for
mal and business-like— giving direc
tions to include my securities In tho
assets."
He looked at her. stupefied. "Are
you mattr* he asked. "It is not neces
sary; the law does not call for any
such sacrifice," Then ha seated him
self at tha telephone. "But I can save
you." ha said.
She laid her hand on his arm.
•*Don'tr* she said gently. The look In
her eyes reminded him of the first
time she had said to him. **I love you" —
and how he had thougha that such
sincerity and constancy had never be
fore been expressed by human voice
and human features. "There Is a law,"
she went on in a \lvely tone, which
only accentuated tha seriousness of
words: "it isn't any of those silly old
rigmaroles you men put In big, yelllow
backed books. It's tha law we try to
live by — yon and I. That law ordered
ma to do it. under tha heaviest pen
alty known. Remember, we hava
failed."
**I hava. failed." ha corrected, "and— "
"We hava failed." she Insisted, "and
(she put her arms about his neck)
I'm glad of Itr* She burst Into tears,
but they. were not tears of sorrow.
He put her gently Into a chair. "You
are hysterical." he said, "and no won
der. X must not let you act on these
Impulses."
She dried her eyes. "Don't misun
derstand, please. I am not a child.
You used to say I was a remarkably
Intelligent woman. You used, not very
long ago. to pretend to ask my advice
about things. Now ril tell you why
I'm glad. Haven't I been wretched?
Haven't you seen how empty my Ufa
was — full of everything I cared noth
ing about, empty of all I longed for.
all I dreamed of — an we dreamed of
once?"
"Yes — yes." he said. - "*"*
. "Don't you understand, dear? What
has this — monster down town been but
my worst enemy? Hasn't it taken you
away from me? Hasn't it made you
force upon me a mode of life that re
roltcd all my better instincts, that
would have changed me finally Into a
cold, heartless, wretched creature, cut
off from all the real joy there is In
life? And rm glad— glad— glad the
monster Is dead, is floating out of our
lives like tha great polluting, hideous
thing that It is."
"Yes— yes." he repeated, looking at
her eagerly.*ffiyynjk*£
"No, we're not rutnad; we're saved."
"Saved?" Ha put his hands on her
shoulders and looked Into her eyes.
The light he saw there soon began
to dawn in his. "Are you surer* ha
said. "Do you feel "it deep down — «s
deep as the place it seems to be coming
from in your eyes?"
"Saved!" she repeated. "Garlan &
Co. down town has failed. But there*
a new Garlan & Co. up town. v And I'm
the company.
' He kissed her again and again. "No,"
ha said, "but you are the senior part- .
ner."
placard bearer, a newsboy and a waiter,
who had come out for a moment from
a nearby restaurant. The vision of
that happy coalition Inspired ma with
an equally happy association of Ideas.
I would divide my time at several Jobs
and lose In variety of occupation that
self-consciousness which was becom
ing unbearable. In the early part of
the morning: I could sell newspapers,
in the forenoon I could sweep tha
streets, from 11 o'clock till 2 p. m. I
could be employed at a cafe • and In
the, afternoon I could walk up and
down Van Ness avenue as a standard
bearer, :. blazoning forth to the beauty
of San Francisco the merits of canoe
shaped shoes and purple stockings.
In my eagerness to carry this plan
Into ..execution I forgot that tho gold
pin was, still in my tie, and It proved
my utter undoing. When I applied for
work In the various capacities men
tioned I was all but Insulted by em
ployers for what was taken to b« my
facetlousuess. In vain did" I try cafa
after cafe, store after store, news office
after news office. I. was returning to
ray, lodging quite dejected when my
chin suddenly came in contact wlta
something rough and hard upon my
tie; and J remembered the gold pin. At
once, my mind realized the harm.lt bad
wrought. me. In^the plenitude of na; '
wrath I '\u25a0. plucked It from the tie and
hurled It' to the ground. Then tha
horror of my position coming over me.
despair took possession of my soul. I
stooped, picked up the pin and, stand
ing J erect, plunged it Into tha region
.of my heart. Much to my surprise, I
still lived. The suicide had been frus
trated by tho fox's head. ; Tha fox's
head had arrested the progress of tha
diminutive weapon. -The two Inches
of sharp stem had penetrated clothing
and flesh, but failed. to reach the heart.
I may yet have to thank tha 11 tie gold
pis.' ' -