Newspapers / The News-Record (Marshall, N.C.) / July 9, 1915, edition 1 / Page 2
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THE NEW3-HEC0HD. IJARSIIALL. NORTH CAEOLKTA. flAROLD MAGGCATfl Author of The Garpe t 1 he race J Honeymoons, etc. COPYRIGHT Tti DCB&J-nElWLLCQnmiY CHAPTER XVIII Continued. 15 He saw her walk bravely the length of the dining-room, out Into the office. What a misfortune! Argument was out of the question. Elsa was not a child, to be reasoned with. She was a woman, and she had come to a wom an's understanding of her heart. To place before her the true angles of the case, the heartless banishment from the world she knew, the regret which would be hers later, no matter how much she loved the man. . . . He pushed back his chair, leaving his coffee untasted. He possessed the deep understand ing of the kindly heart, and his one thought was Elsa's future happiness. Could he save her from the day when she would learn Romance had come from within? No. AH he could do was to help find the man. He sent five cablegrams to Saigon, to the consulate, to the principal ho tels the most difficult composition be had ever attacked. But because he had forgotten to send the sixth to meet the packet boat, against the pos sibility of Warrington changing his mind and not landing, bis labor was thrown to the winds. Meantime Elsa stopped at the office desk. "I left a note for Mr. Warring ton who has gone to Saigon. I see it In bis key box. Will you please re turn it to me?" The clerk did not hesitate an In stant He gravely returned the note to her, marveling at her paleness. Elsa crushed the note in her hand and moved toward the stairs, wondering if she could reach her room before she broke down utterly. He had gone. He had gone without knowing that all he wanted in life was his for the tak ing. In her room she opened the note and through blurred vision read what she had so happily inscribed the night before. "Paul I love you. Come to me. Elsa." She bad written it, unashamed. She flung herself upon the bed, and there Martha found her. "Elsa, child, what is it?" Martha cried, kneeling beside the bed. "Child, what has happened?" Elsa sat up, seized Martha by the shoulders and stared Into the faithful eyes. "Well, I love this man War rlngton and he loves me. But he has gone. Can't you see? Don't you un derstand? Have you been as blind as I? He is Paul Ellison, Arthur's brother, his twin brother. And they obliterated bim. It is Arthur who is the ghost, Martha, the phantom. Ah, I have caused you a good deal of worry, and I am going to cause you yet more. I am going to Saigon; up and down the world, east and west, until I find him. Shall I go alone, or will you go with me?" Then Martha did what ever after en deared her to the heart of the stricken girl she mothered her. ; "Elsa, my baby! Of course I shall go with you, always. For you could not love any man If he was not worthy." t Then followed the strangest quest doubtless ever made by a woman. .From Singapore to Saigon, up to Bangkok, down to Singapore again; to Batavia, over to Hongkong, Shang hai, Pekin, Manila, Hongkong again, then Yokohama. Patient and hopeful, Elsa followed the bewildering trail. She left behind her many puzzled ho tel managers and booking agents; for It was not usual for a beautiful young woman to go about the world, inquir ing for a blond man with a parrot. Sometimes she was only a day late. Many cablegrams she sent, but upon her arrival In each port she found that these had not been called for. Over these heart-breaking disappoint ments she uttered no complaint The world was big and wide; be it never so big and wide, Elsa knew that some day she would find him. V J. j ; In the daytime there , was the quest ; but, an! the nights, the interminable hours of inaction, the spaces of time In which she could only lie back and think. , Up and down the coasts, across Islands, over seas, the journey- took her, until one day In July she found herself upon the pillared veranda of the house in which her mother had been born. CHAPTER XIX. 'i. ' . The Two Brothers. From port to port, sometimes not stepping off the1 boat at all, moody, restiess and . Irritable, Warrington wended his way home.'' There was nothing surprising in the fact that he never inquired for mail. Who was there to write? ; Besides, , he sought only the obscure hotels, where he was not likely to meet any of his erst while fellow passengers. The mock ery and uselessness of hla home-going became more and more apparent as the days slipped by. Often he longed to fly back to the Jungles,: to James, and leave matters as they were. Here and there, along the way, be had tried a bit of luxury ; but the years of econ omy and frugality had robbed him of the ability to enjoy it. He was going home ... to what? Surely there w be no welcome for him at h!s p's end. Ie wo iM return e': t ExmiBa&k not scriptural, to find that he was not wanted. Of his own free will be had gone out of their lives. He fought grimly against the thought of Elsa; but he was not strong enough to vanquish the long ings from his heart and mind. Always when alone she was in fancy with htm, now smiling amusedly Into his face, now peering down at the phosphores cence seething alongside, now stand ing with her chin uplifted, her eyes half shut, letting the strong winds strike her full In the face. Many a "good night" he sent over the seas. An incident; that would be all. His first day in New York left him with nothing more than a feeling of foreboding and oppression. The ex pected exhilaration of returning to the city of his birth did not materialize. So used to open spaces was he, to dis tances and the circle of horizons, that he knew he no longer belonged to the city with its Himalayan gorges and canyons, whose torrents were human beings and whose glaciers were the hearts of these. A great loneliness bore down on him. For months he had been drawing familiar pictures, and to find none of these was like com ing home to an empty house. The old life was indeed gone; there were no threads to resume. A hotel stood where his club had been; the house In which he had spent his youth was no more. He wanted to leave the city; and the desire was with difficulty over come. Early the second morning he started downtown to the offices of the Andes Construction company. He was ex traordinarily nervous. Cold sweat con tinually moistened his palms. Change, change, everywhere change; Trinity was like an old friend. When the taxi cab driver threw off the power and indicated with a Jerk of his head a granite shaft that soared up Into the blue, Warrington asked: "What place is this?" "The Andes building, sir. The con struction company occupies the top floor." "Very good," replied Warrington, paying and discharging the man. t From a reliquary of the Dutch, an affair of red brick, four stories high, this monolith had sprung. With a sigh Warrington entered the cavernous doorway and stepped into an "express elevator." When the car arrived at the twenty-second story, Warrington was alone. He paused before the door of the vice-president He recalled the "old man," thln-llpped, blue-eyed, erup- "A Man Like You Wasn't Made for Idleness.". tlve. It was all very strange, this re quest to make the restitution in per son. Well he would soon learn why. He drew the certified check from his wallet and scrutinized it carefully. Twelve thousand, eight hundred do! lars. He replaced It, opened the door, and walked in. A boy met him at the railing and briskly Inquired bis bus! ness. :. -.. ' "I have an ' appointment with Mr. Elmore. Tell him that Mr. Ellison Is here." . x1 The boy returned promptly and slg nifled that Mr. Elmore was at liberty, But It was not the "old man" who looked up from a busy man's desk. It was the son; so far, the one familiar face Warrington had seen since hia ar rival. There was no hand shaking; there was nothing In evidence- on either side to Invite it, , - "Ah! Sit down, Paul. Let no one disturb me for an hour," the young vice-president advised the boy. "And close the door as you go out." 1 Warrington sat down; the bridge builder wmnea Die cnair arouna and stared at his visitor, not insolently, but with kindly curiosity. "You've filled out" was ail be said After fully satisfying his eyes, be added: "I dare say you expected to find father. He's been gone six years," Indicating one of the two por traits over his desk. It was Dot at the "old man" Wv r!r' -n li-'.lel longest "T.to Is tb "What T You worked four years with this company and don't recollect that portrait?" . Frankly, I never noticed It before. Warrington placed the certified check on the desk. "With interest," he said. The vice-president crackled It ran his fingers over his smooth chin, fold ed the check and extended it toward the astonished wanderer. "We don't want that, Paul. What we wanted was to get you back. There was no other way. Your brother made up the loss the day after you . . . went away. There was no scandal. Only a few of us In the office knew. Never got to the newspapers." It was Impossible for Warrington to digest this astounding Information at once. His mind could only repeat the phrases: No scandal, only a few of us in the office knew, never got to the newspapers. For ten years he had hidden himself in wildernesses, avoid ed hotels, read no American newspa pers, never called for mall. Oh, monu mental fool! And I could have come home al most at once!" he said aloud, address ing the crumpled check In his band rather than the man In the swivel chair. "Yes. I have often wondered where you were, what you were doing. You and your brother 'were upper-class men. I never knew Arthur very well; but you and I were chummy, after a fashion. Arthur was a little too book ish for my style. Didn't we use to call you Old Galahad? You were always walloping the bullies and taking trie weaker chaps under your wing. To me, you were the hut man in the world for this business. Moreover, I never could understand, nor could fa ther, how you got It, for you were not an office man. Women and cards, I suppose. Father said that you had the making of a great engineer. Fierce place, this old town," waving his nana toward the myriad sparkling roofs and towers and spires. "Have to be strong and hard-headed to survive It Built anything since you've been away?" In Cashmir." To have thrown away a decade! Glad you kept your hand in. I dare say you've seen a lot of life." To the young man it was an extremely awk ward interview. Yes; I've seen life," dully. Orient, mostly, I suppose. Your letter about the strike in oil was mighty interesting. Heap of money over there, if they'd only let us smart chaps in to dig it up. Now, old man, I want you to wipe the slate clear of these ten years. Well call It a bad dream. What are your plans for the future?" ! "Plans?" Warrington looked up blankly. He realized that he had made no plans for the future. Yes. What do you intend to do 7 A man like you wasn't made for Idle ness. Look here, Paul; I'm not going to beat about the bush. We've got a whopping big contract from the Chi nese government, and we need a man to take charge, a man who knows and understands something of the yellow people. How about a salary of ten thousand a year for two years, to be gin In October?" . Warrington twisted the t check. Work, rehabilitation. "Could you trust me?" ho asked quietly. With anything I have in the world. Understand, Paul, there's no philan thropic string to this offer. You've pulled through a devil of a hole. You're a man. I should not be holding down this chair if I couldn't tell a man at a glance. We were together two months in Peru. I'm familiar with your work. Do you want to know whose portrait that is up there? Well, it's General Chetwood's, the founder of this con cern, the silent partner. The man who knew kings and potentates and told 'em that they needed bridges in their back yards. , This building be longs to his daughter. She convert ed her stock into granite. -- About a month ago I received a letter 'from I her. It directly concerned you. ' It seems she learned through the consul general at Singapore that , you bad worked with us. She's like her fa ther, a mighty keen Judge of human nature. Frankly, ; this offer comes through her advices. To satisfy your self, you can give us a surety bond for fifty thousand. It's not obligatory, however." " . j Elsa Chetwood. She had her fa ther's eyes, and It was this which had drawn bis gaze to the portrait. Chet wood; and Arthur had not known any more than he had. What irony!. Ten years , wasted , . . for nothing ! Warrington laughed aloud. A weak ness seized him, like that of a man long gone hungry. "Buck up, Paul," warned the good Samaritan. "All this kind of knocks the wind out of you. I know. But what I've offered you Is in good faith. Will you take It?" "Yes." simply. ? "That's the way to talk. Supposing you go out to lunch with met We'll talk it over like old times." "No. I haven't seen . . ." ;V'? "To be sure! ,1 forgot.1 Do you know where they live, your mother and brother?" " "No.- I expected to ask you." The vice-president scribbled down the address. "I believe youU find them both there, though Arthur, I un derstand, is almost as great a traveler as you are. Of course you want to see them, you poor beggar! The Southwestern will pull you almost up to the door. After the reunion, you hike back here, and well get down to the meat of the business." "John," said Warrington, huskily "you're a man." ; ' ' "Oh. piffle! It's not all John. The old man left word that if you ever turned up again to hang on t you. Chetwood. If you want to thank aay body, thank her." Warrington missed the searching glance, which was not without its touch of envy. "You'd bet ter be off. Hustle back as soon as you can." Elmore offered his band now. "Gad! but you haven't lost any of your ; old grip." "I'm a bit dazed. The last its months have loosened up my nerves." "Nobody's made of iron.," "I'd sound hollow If I tried to say what I feel. I'll be back a week from today." i "Til look for you." ' . As the door closed behind Warring ton, the young millionaire sat down, scowling at a cubby hole In his desk. He presently, took out a letter post marked Yohohama. He turned it about in his bands, musingly. Without read ing It (for he knew its contents well), he thrust it back into the cubby bole. Women were out of his sphere. He could build a bridge within a dollar of the bid; but he knew nothing about women beyond the fact that they were always desirable. A few monosyllables, a sentence or two, and then, good day. , The average man would have recounted every Inci dent of note during those ten years. He did not admire Warrington any the lest for his reticence. It took a strong man to hold himself together under all these blows from the big end of for tune's horn. Paul ,was a bora engineer; Arthur had entered the office as a makeshift Paul bad taken eight thousand one day, 'and decamped. Arthur had re funded the sum, and disappeared. El more could not understand, nor could hia father. Perhaps some of the truth would now come tc light. Somehow, Paul, with his blond beard and blonder head, his bright eyes, his tan, his big shoulders, somehow Paul was out of date. He did not belong to the times. And Elsa had met him over there; practically ordered (though she had no authority) that he should be given a start anew; that, moreover, she would go bis bond to any amount Funny old world! Well, he was glad. Paul was a man, a big man, and that was the sort needed In the foreign bridge building. He rolled down the top of his desk and left the building. He was In no mood tor work. The evening of the third day found Warrington in the baggage car, feed ing a dilapidated feather-molting bird, who was in a most scandalous tem per. Rajah scattered the seeds about, spurned the banana-tip, tilted the wa ter cup and swash buckled generally. By and by, above "the clack-clack of wheels and rails, came a crooning song. The baggageman looked up from his waybook and lowered his pipe. He saw the little green bird pause and begin to keep time with its head. It was the Urdu lullaby James used to sing. It never failed to quiet the , little parrot Warrington went back to his Pullman, where the porter greeted him with the information that the next stop would be his. Ten min utes later be stepped from the train, a small kltbag in one band and the parrot cage In the other. He bad come prepared for mistake on the prt t. .he natives. The single smart cabman lifted bis hat, jumped down from the bo:t, and opened the door. Warrington entered without speaking. The doir closed, and the coupe rolled away briskly. He waa perfectly sure of h s destination. The cabman had mistaken him for Arthur, It would be better s . There would be no after complications when he de parted on the morrow. As the coup took a turn, he loot ed out of the win dow. They were entering a driveway, lined on each aide o! which were chest nuts. Indeed the h just was set in the center of a grove of these splendid trees. ' , Warrington went' tip the broad veranda steps and uullitd the old-fash ioned bell cord. He was rather amazed at his utter lack of agitation. He waa as calm as if he were making a call upon a casual acquaintance. Hia mother and brother, whom he had hot seen in ten years! The great oak door drew in, and he ei tered unceremoni ously, "Why, Marse A'tl uh, I di'n't see yo go out!" exclaimed the old negro serv ant. , , t "I am not Arthur , I am his brother Paul Which door?' Pop-eyed, the old negro pointed to a door down the hall. Then he leaned against the baniste and caught des perately at the spin. lies. For the voice was not Arthur's. Warrington opene J the door, closed it gently and stood vitu his back to it At a desk In the middle of the room sat a man, busy wltt books. He raised his head. : -. r: '' "Arthur, don't you know me?" . "Paul?" '-.--v. I;".i.v-v The chair overturned; some books thudded dully upon the rug. i Arthur leaned with hla hands tense upon the desk. Paul sustained the look, hla eyes sad and hia face jiale and grave, (TO BE CONTINUED.) : Fixing th C-rifne." It was only a nice friendly kind of sing-song" at thd hydro, but just be cause it waa free expectations ran high, and the critics wure in full force. The young man wht rose to sing "The Maiden Pair With Go.iden Hair" bad the test Intentiona tn the world, but somehow be was lot up to what is called "concert pitcl. " Indeed, he was very much below It, and after making two or three attempt ti le bad to capitu late and resume hii at at the back. Then the benevolen; looking chairman rose. "Ladles and gentlimn. there Is not a word to be said i Inst the young gentleman. He did his best, and what can man do more? 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The News-Record (Marshall, N.C.)
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July 9, 1915, edition 1
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