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SN* PA I Novelized From Eugene Walters Great Play > SYNOPSIS CHAPTER I—Introduces Captain Amos Williams, president of the Latin American Steamship company, in very bad humor over a threatened strike of his dock laborers. Joseph Brooks, un derpaid accountant and collector for Williams, expresses his sympathy for the strikers and is ridiculed by his fellow clerks. II—The president sends for James Smith, superintendent of the campany's docks, and instructs him to spare no expense in crushing the strik ers. Smith advises pacific measures, but is overruled and prepares to obey orders. Ill—Mrs. Emma Brooks, the handsome young wife of the discontented clerk, tries to encourage him on his return to their bandbox apartment, but he is bit ter against his employer and also against his wife's mother and sister, who dislike him on account of his inability to gain position. In his desperation he turns on Ins wife and suggests that she must re gret her choice of him when she might have had Smith, who had offered him self. IV—Smith, who is the intimate friend of the family, makes his appear ance on the scene, and Brooks continues his bitter arraignment of his employer and violent protest against his own im poverished condition. The discussion becomes rather personal, and Brooks takes his hat and leaves the premises. V—Accompanied by Captain Williams, who is an old friend of the family, Mrs. Harris and her daughter, Beth, mother and sister of Mrs. Brooks, enter the room. During the visit Brooks returns and makes a scene, accusing Williams of being the cause of his unhappiness. Mr3. Brooks reminds her husband of his breach of hospitality, and he apologizes and leaves the house. VI—When Brooks returns he astonishes his wife and Smith by inviting them to go to the theater. Brooks extracts $10 from a roll of money collected for the company. VII—Smith prevents strike. VIII—Williams and Smith go to South America, and the Brookes' prospects improve. Brooks tells his wife that he has been promoted and money is plentiful. The couple move into an expensive apartment hotel, and Mrs. Harris ceases to reproach them for their poverty. IX—Smith makes his appearance suddenly and informs Brooks that Williams knows ot his dis honesty and that the going to South Americo was only a scheme to entrap him and that he is shadowed by detec tives. Smith raised his hand in protest. "No, Joe: it ain't the right time yet and"— "Why isn't it the right time? I'm trapped, and Williams"— "Joe, see here," he expostulated: "you can't talk." "What is it? What do you mean?" demanded Mrs. Brooks, very pale. Smith still sought to spare her. to keep the dreadful truth from her. "There's just been a little trouble. Emma," he said evasively. "Joe here Is all worked up—excited." "I'll tell you what happened!" cried her husband in a choking voice, stag gering to the table. "You think I got a raise. I didn't. You think that man Williams gave me six months' back pay. He didn't. All this money you've been living on—all of it—I stole. I took it from the company! Williams trap ped me. He wanted me to steal. Now he knows—now he knows, and I'm done for!" , He fell into a chair and doubled for ward. burying his face in his hands. For once Smith was at à loss what to say. * Mrs. Brooks, paler than ever, stood rigid, as though turned to stone, stal ing at her husband. "You mean." she articulated in low. slow tones, "you mean that you"— "I'm a thief." he moaned brokenly without raising his head. "They know It. Detectives are downstairs watch ing-watching. Tomorrow—tomorrow —I'll be in jail." Another long, awkward silence en sued. Smith ended it. "You see. Emma, Joe here ain't so much to blame. He"— "And you didn't let me know?" There was cold reproach In her voice and In her gaze. "It wasn't time," explained Jimsy uneasily. "There's a chance things can be squared—there's still a chance." "Still, you didn't let me know?" "The thing to do is to sit down quiet ly and talk this over. To begin with"— "No. Jimsy. Please go borne. I—I want to be with Joe—alone." Smith took up his hat reluctantly and prepared to depart. "Just as you say, Emma—just as you say," he said. "I'll do all I can to night and let you know. Maybe it'll be all right "I know, Jimsy. Good night" "Good night" F °.r* hue CHAPTER XI. a long time Mrs. Brooks stood gazing In silence at her husband, her heart rent with conflicting emotions. Her han Tv. EUGENE WALTER, Author of "Paid In Full" and "The Easiest Way" piness of the past few months, then, had been built upon the precarious foundation of peculation. Oh, the hor ror! Oh, the shame of it! On the very morrow the name she bore would be held up to disgrace and derision. He would he cast into prison. The misery of their struggles with poverty was as nothing compared with that of their sudden downfall. Numbed though her heart was with the shock, shrunk by the terror of their ghastly position, it was yet not Impervious to pity, and the hopeless wretchedness of her husband inspired It. She thought of how he had lavish ed his stealings upon her. how he ap peared to be moved by the one desire to make her comfortable and happy. She went to him and put her hand on his head, smoothing his hair. "Oh. Joe! Oh, my boy!" she said brokenly. "How could you do it?" Didn't you know sooner or later you'd be found out? Now I know why you've been interested in the races—you've been betting on the horses." "I—I wanted to get the money back," he sobbed. "But didn't you know you couldn't? Oh, why didn't you leave things as they were—the flat, the struggle and all that? Why did you bring me here and show me all this—this happiness— with money that you stole?" His sobbing ceased, and he pushed her away and rose. "That's right. You call me a thief! If there was one person in the world I thought I could turn to it's you, and you turn on me." "Joe, you mustn't say that. I haven't turned on you. Only I can't help but think"— "What? That man Williams drove me to taking money." "Drove you?" "Yes. he did. He went away so I could take it. I expected you to stand by me. Do you know the hole I'm in? There are three central office men downstairs watching. If I make a move I'll be nabbed. It's all very well for you to stop and preach—you always were so d-d saintly—but what of me? That's the question—what of me?" He thumped his breast violently. She drew back, hurt by his re proaches. "If I thought you were yourself I'd never forgive you for saying that to me," she declared. "I'm not asking your forgiveness, nor your mother's, nor your sister's. What I want now is somebody to help me out. I don't want to go to jail. It would kill me." "Do you think I want you to go to jail? Do you think I want the dis grace"— "The disgrace—that's it! I knew that would come sooner or later, but I didn't think it would come from you. There's always somebody to hammer that into a fellow when he's down." "I'm not trying to hammer anything Into you. What I wa'nt to know is what can be done, what are we going to do?" "I don't know—unless"— "Unless we can get the money to pay back. There's Jimsy." "That won't do. It's too much. He hasn't got it. Besides. It's too late Williams means business. He wouldn't take the money. He's not that kind." "Oh. if I only knew a way—If 1 could only help!" She wrung her hands and sank hope lessly Into a chair by the table. Brooks paced the room restlessly, like a wild animal In a cage. Now and then he shot a peculiar, furtive glance in the direction of his wife. Finally he sat opposite to her. leaned toward her on the table and said in a low, In tense voice: "If anything la to be done It's got to be done tonight, Emma. Williams Is the only man. You con square It with him." "I can?" "Yes, and no one but yon." "What can 1 do?" He looked at her meaningly. "He likes you." Startled, she returned his gaze in quiringly. "Yes, he does," he went on. "He al ways did. Women are bis weak point. He's liked you for years. That's why he bancs uroujul. I've seen. .If f.r.l JN.« FULL By John W. H&rding Copyright, 1908, by G. W. Dilling ham Co. heard what he said tonight about what he'd do for a girl like you. He meant that, Emma. He'll do anything you ask him If—if you go to him right." Beginning to understand what he wanted of her, she rose slowly, in credulous horror in her eyes. He rose also and went toward her. "He's home now." he urged eagerly. "You can go. No one will know but just Williams, you and me. And you can do more than that—you can make him give us money, more money, to keep on living like this, and there won't be any risk." She recoiled from him. consumed with rage and shame, her eyes blazing. "I hope I don't understand aright!" The words came in quivering gasps. "You mean me to go to his apartment tonight to see him—and—and"— "No one will know the difference," he coaxed softly. "Y'ou can handle him all right. Besides, yon know how far you can let a man go—all women know that." "Oh, I can't believe I'm listening to you! A husbaud to ask a wife"— She stopped, pressing her cheeks between her clinched hands, appalled at his infamy. "Then you won't do it?" he cried angrily. "You won't come to the front? I suppose you don't think I ought to ask. Why shouldn't I? Who did I steal the money for? I did It because you made me!" "That's a lie!" "You know it's the truth. When I married you your father was to help me, and he died, and then you had to do your own work, and you whined and complained." "That's another lie!" "Oh, you never said so In so many words, but I saw it—for four years around the house. I saw you sighing and moping because you didn't have enough to live on. Then there were that mother of yours and your sister— they never stopped. You tried to make yourself a martyr. Every moment of your life was a mute protest against our poverty—yes, it was, and you know it. Do you remember that night when you said you couldn't go to the theater because you didn't have clothes? That was the first time I took money. That's when I began." "You knew I wouldn't have gone if I had known." "But you did go—you kept on go Ing, and I kept on stealing for you. God, how I've suffered for you, for the clothes on your back. Every night has been a nightmare. Now I'm going to jail, you know that. I'm going up there on the river for years because you won't do your part." "I can't do what you want." He became satantically persuasive again. "Why can't you?" he urged. "Other women have for less reason—one to get control of a transcontinental railroad for lier husband. I've risked every thing for you. If you go there tonight I won't go to jail; I won't be hauled Into court; no one will know but the three of us. No one will think the less of you. I've gone through to the limit for you: it's up to you to go through for me." "Then if you go to jail you mean that I've sent you there?" "Yes, and down in your heart you know you have." Every instinct of her pure woman hood, every fiber of her flesh, revolted at this cynical exhibition of his vile ness. She contemplated him with loathing. "Now that I see you naked in all your nasty meanness, your contempt!» ble viciousness, I wonder how I ever made the mistake of thinking you even half a man," she said. This scathing denunciation made no impression on his deadened sense of honor and decency. "You can't dodge the responsibility with fine speeches," he replied, shrug ging his shoulders. "I've gone wrong for you. What are you going to do? Be square with me and take this chance—an easy chance—and you know you're safe." She did not nnswer, but stood there, her face set In its expression of abhor rence and indignation, deliberating as to the best course to pursue toward this unspeakable villain to whom she was bound and who watched her with anxious, cringing mien. She addressed him finally in cold, harsh tones: "Whatever I may do or promise to do, I promise simply because you blame me." "Emma, I knew you'd"— "Don't make the mistake that I care for you. Whatever I felt for you, and I thought It was love, you've assassi nated r the last ten minutes. But I don't want you to go to jail pointing a finger of accusation at me." "Then you'll be square—you'll help— you'll— "You understand that If I bargalu with Captain Williams for your free dom I make the bargain." "I know. I'll never ask." "It will be my business alone." "Yes, Just yours." "Is he home?" "Yes, I think so. He said he was going there." "Telephone and. ask him . if. he can see me—now—alone."' **• . ; • "You can ~^iakc liini.aivc us nlouey.' He jurnpeu to'the instrument, but as his hand grasped the receiver he hesi tated, and a flush suffused his white, drawn cheeks, brought there by the first true consciousness of the enor mity of his crime. He looked around guiltily at his wife. She was standing rigid, her back toward him. He took down the receiver. "Seven-six-eight-four Bryant," he called. CHAPTER Xn. W HEN Jimsy Smith had told Emma and Joe that Cap tain Williams lived in a lit tie south sea island nook moved into his flat and that It was dirty the description had done justice to the place in a general way. It was in a hotel not far from that in which the Brookses had so recently taken up their residence, and the living room was a curious combination of natural history museum and ship's cabin. A wooden capstan in the center did duty for a rouud table, and on it, in addition to an electric reading lamp, an untidy litter of papers and maga zines, some writing paper, envelopes, pens and ink, were a huge tin box of tobacco and a rack containing pipes of wood and meerschaum of all sizes, shapes and colors. Remarkable among the few chairs of rattan or rush was one, a large rocking chair, partially constructed of two small anchors, the flukes forming the rockers. In a cor ner over a comfortable lounge was a canopy made of a piece of sail can vas supported by south sea island spears and decorated with leather shields, warelubs, boomerangs and other native weapons, together with necklaces and various ornaments of sharks' teeth. Covering the walls were stuffed fishes of weird shape. Over the entrance door was a ship's wheel and on the mantel a model of an old time trading schooner with all sails set. Among other objects on the mantel also was a faded daguerreo type showing Captain Williams as a young man. in uniform. On each side of the capstan was a dirty cuspidor. The carpet also was dirty and spotted, and dust had settled thickly every where. In this queer abode Williams lived alone, save for Sato, a Japanese valet, who had served him for many years. The massive form of the captain himself, minus his coat, might have been descried in the light of the lamp through the cloud of tobacco smoke that enveloped him as he sat reading a magazine some time after his de parture from the home of Mr. and Mrs. Brooks. He was rather annoyed When the telephone bell rang and had he not been expecting Smith would not have troubled to answer It. As it was. he swore a little and rose lazily to respond. "Hello! Yes, this is Captain Wil liams," he said in his usual stentorian voice. "What, Brooks? I won't talk with you over the plione—no—what? Mrs. Brooks? What, here? Well, well! Yes, I'm at home—yes. Right away, you say? Yes, I'll wait." Williams could hardly believe what he had heard. He turned it over in his mind for fully three minutes figuring uut just what it eould'mean. "Going to send his wife here! What a skunk he is!" he grunted. He ambled to the telephone again and instructed the hotel clerk that If any visitors called to see him they were to be shown right up. From there be went to the door of an ad joining room and roared for his valet. "Any beer on Ice?" he demanded when the Japanese, who evidently had been asleep, presented himself. "Yes, saar." "Got limes and rum — the kind I brought up from the West Indies?" "Yes, saar." "Plenty Ice?" "Yes, saar." "That's all." He could not get over the wonder Brooks' telephone communication bad caused blm. "Told her he'd got a raise of pay. eb? Wbat a skunk be Is! And what a fine girl she is!" He gazed abstractedly at the model of the schooner on tbe mantel opposite to him and became bnried in thought so deep that he actually stopped smok ing and let his pipe go out. Presently he roused himself, fished a sheet of writing paper from among the reading matter on the capstan table and wrote something upon It, after which be folded the paper carefully and hid it between the leaves of a magazine. Than he shouted ata!o for his valat. "Sato," he ordered."" "bring my slip pers and smoking jacket. There's a lady coming to see me." '* The man grinned knowingly. "Y'ou might as well take a walk. Sato." "Yes, saar." "And you needn't come back right away." "No, saar." "Here's a couple of dollars for you. Take 'em and get to blazes out of here. Sabe?" "Yes, saar." "And stay out," he recommended as the Japanese prepared to obey. When the valet had vanished the captain took a survey of his domain rather anxiously. "It's a little dirty—a little dirty— but It'll have to do," he muttered. There was a knock at the door. Wil liams wreathed his physiognomy in the most amiable smile of which it was capable, felt his tie to assure himself that It had not slipped round toward his left ear. as it had a bad habit of doing when not hauled taut and clamp ed in place, and went to let his vis itor In. The caller, however, was only Smith. "Come in, but make your business short," was Williams' blunt greeting "I'm expecting an important visitor." "All right, captain," responded Smith tranquilly, entering and helping himself to a chair. "Have a pipe?" Invited the host pushing the tobacco tin toward him. "Too hot," was the laconic declination "Well, how did you leave the Brooks family?" "She knows." "Y'ou tell her?" "No; Joe did." "Didn't think he had the nerve." "He hasn't." "How's that?" "It was because he lost it that he told her. Busted right out the moment the door was closed on you." "Did they have a row?" "Don't know. She took It like a major and asked me to leave 'em alone." "That's natural." "Have you got the exact figures?" "What figures?". "Of how much he took." "I guess so—to the penny f " said Wil liams, reaching for a memorandum book and consulting it. "It was just $10,800 three days ago." "Any more now?" "Not that I know of. Guess that covers it." Smith shook his head moodily. "That's too bad—too bad," he mur mured. "That's right, it is too bad," agreed the captain. Smith thought for a minute, looked straight at the captain, who was re garding him curiously and said firmly and more quickly than his employer had ever heard him speak before: "Williams, I don't think it'll take three minutes for you and me to come to an understanding about Brooks." "What about him?" "I want to square this thing for him." "Where do you come in. Smith?" "In plain words. Williams, that's iny business. But I want to square it." "How do you think you can square ft. Smith?" As Jimsy prepared to answer tin* question ho fell back into his old fa miliar drawl. "Well. Williams." he said, "you ain't got any callous on your fingers from handing out coin to the folks who'vc worked for you, but I've always been treated about right." "Y'ou were always worth treating right, Smith." "Thanks." "Always found you a fair mnn—do ing things you said you'd do In a lidr way." "I ain't never been much of a spend thrift, Williams. I've saved and been n little lucky in Investing the little I've had. I can raise about $14.000 by noon tomorrow, and I'll give you my note for the rest, with security—I mean col lateral." "So It nln't none of my business why you do this?" "Exactly." "Smith, I don't think you can square this little matter for Brooks." "Don't think my note's good, eh?" " 'Tain't that. Y'ou couldn't squure this. Smith, if you had a million right in your clothes this minute." "Why not?" "To tell the truth. I'm going to open negotiations with another party." "That so?" "Mrs. Brooks." "How?" "She's coming up here to see me I Boon. Maybe she and me can come to some mutually pleasant arrangement that will keep Brooks out of jail." "When is she coming?" The captain puffed at his pipe and scrutinized Smith's face closely as he replied : "Expect her any moment." "How do you kuow?" "Telephoned." If Williams expected to see any sign In his vUitor of the utter amazement, the. profound consternation, the impart ing of this information caused, he was doomed to disappointment. Smith re mained as unreadable as tbe sphinx. But it was sixty seconds before lie spoke. "I suppose that's a hint for me to be on my way?" he interrogated. "That's about tbe meaning I meant to convey," admitted the eaptain, with out circumlocution. Jimsy rose slowly, took bis hat aud went toward the door. Before he reached It he turned. "Williams," he said, "you know I've known Emma—Mrs. Brooks—ever since she was In short clothes and used to come down to the office to go home with her daddy." . "So I've heard." "She's always beg* t^e Jq Ipqk into my face wltn tnem Dig 'bitte eÿeâ ana smile . Some time—some day—if 1 get OTHferrl'm going to make it my busi ne s s to «-«««, her." "All sight." shouldn't happen to look jap into my face and smile I'm going to Williams, and I'm coming beeI< m/f I ; The captain puffed his pipe placidly. ■ "What style heels might you be wearing>' how, Smith?" he inquired, with great deliberation. "Well," answered the always delib erate Jitosy, "If you should consult 'the ..particular shoemaker who fur nishes them he'd describe that heel as of 45 caliber." "Good night. Smith," said the cap tain dryly. Smith did not reply. Williams gazed in the direction of the door after his superintendent had closed it. There was an enigmatical smile on his face. It slowly died away, and bis pugnacious underjaw protruded ominously. Reaching round to his hip pocket, he brought out a re V "He'd describe that heel as of 40 caliber ." volver. It was a formidable looking weapon, with a long barrel. He broke the breach, examined the cartridges and replaced it in his pocket. "Darned if he wouldn't do It, too," he muttered. (Continued next week.) A Queen's Will. Queen Adelaide, the wife of William IV.. was a woman of great piety and exceptional humility, which was shown in the directions for her funeral. "I die in all humility," she wrote, 'îknowing well we are all nllke before the throne of God, and I request, there fore, that my mortal remains he con veyed to the grave without any pomp or ceremony. They are to be moved to St. George's chapel, Windsor, where I request to have a quiet funeral. "I particularly desire not to be laid out in state, and the funeral to take place by daylight; no procession, the coffin to be carried by sailors to the chapel. I die in peace and wish to be carried to the tomb in peace and free from the vanities and pomp of this world."—London Home Notes. Ancient Egyptian. Jtones. Stones were formed into the shapes of beetles by the ancient Egyptians. They regarded the beetle as an em blem of immortality, and hence it was the most popular of all forms of or nament. Counterfeit beetles of com mon stones were commonly burled with dead persons, and it was custom ary to engrave upon them the expres sion of wishes for future repose and happiness, dedications of the soul to God and various hieroglyphs. Oue of the latter was a hawk with a human head, symbolizing resurrection. An other. the vulture, meant maternity. A goose was the son of a king. The Proper Instinct. "BIrdset seems to have the proper in stincts for a married man." "You mean that he can tell a grace, fdl lie. has developed a keen sense of conning and has learned to conceal his real Income from his wife." "Yes. and also to know that she real ly knows just bow he Is deceiving >set .' f &New York Herald. Marital Persiflage. "I must confess," remarked Mn Crabbe, "I don't believe there ever was a really perfect man." "Well," replied Mr. Crabbe, "I sup pose that's because Eve wasn't mad« first" "How do yon mean?" "Well, If Eve had been made first she would have bossed the job of mak ing Adam."—Philadelphia Don't Blame Her. I did not know what ailed my girl— She ne'er was cross before. No matter prhat I tried to say. It seemed to make her sore. Her pretty brow was furrowed deep; Her voice waa harshly curt. *Twas Ions before I found out why— Her shoes were tight and hurt —New York Telegram. The Bereaved Widow's Break. A London life insurance company re cently got this letter from a bereaved widow: "I take pleasure in informing you of the death of my husband, who was assured in your company. Please send me papers quick so 1 can provw he la dead."