Newspaper Page Text
October 1924.
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VICTOR R-PUSSEAU PMAN
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Hon him. .even if she ti been
minded, was useless.
She was not minded. That wonh
be a disloyal act toward her lover
Soon she would know; and meanwhib
she kept down her fears. She watchet
Jenkins drive away with sinklni
heart. And somehow the raornlnj
passed.
The hours of afternoon were leadei
ones. Five o’clock came at last, wltl
no cessation of the downpour, ant
Joan went out and paced the rain
soaked veranda endlessly, lookinj t
anxiously in the direction of the sta
tion, though site knew that it must h
at least two liburs before she couit,
hope to see Jenkins’ buggy again oi
its way up the hill.
Through the lowering wester)
clouds the sun, emerging for a mo
tnent, streaked the west with angr;
crimson splashes." Lancaster must b
nearly home. But It was no use wait
• Ing there, where her fears grew fron
f oment to inompnt, She went Inti
e building, and su\? the matru
standing within her door. Suddenl;
she sensed the reflection of her owi
f^rS In Mrs. F raser s heart; she knev
the woman was doing nothing as sh
stood there, was waiting, like herse.i
nnd, In the same manner, hopir.
against hope for the doctors safe r,
turn. Impulsively Joan entered th
room. She could keep silence n
longer. She broke down, sobbing dis
tractedly.
“1 am afraid something has hap
pened to the doctor,” she wept.
“Now you sit down in that chali
Miss Wentworth,” said Mrs. Frase
kindly. “It’s been a trying day. Bu
Doctor Lancaster will be home in ai
hour, and there's no use becomln.
anxious about him. Heavens, If w,
got anxious before we had cause, what
should we do?”
“I know," sobbed the girl. “But I
can't hear waiting. I know something
has happened to him."
Now, my dear, you are all worked
up about him,” uhe said. He won’t
come to any harm. He can’t come to
harm when he went straight to his
own hospital,” she added.
But she spoke without conviction.
Joan's hysterical mood was infecting
her, increasing her own fears and
forebodings.
“I reckon you know, Miss Went
worth, hmv much Doctor Jenkins and
I feel we owe to you for taking care
of the doctor," she said, seating lier
ut the gItTs side. n And for get
ting that man nut of the place, my
dear. Man? He’s a devil—he’s the
doctor’s devil, Miss Wentworth. And
no harm can come to the doctor with
you watching for him and praying for
him."
Joan'looked up at her with troubled
face. 'Mrs. Fraser, I am so much at
a loss," she said, 'Doctor Jenkins
and you have known Doctor Lancas
ter so long, and lama stranger here.
I am like a child in comparison with
you, so far as knowledge of Doctor
Lancaster Is concerned.,, I have been
fighting his physical troubles, and I do
not know bis mental ones. Tligt is
what puts me at a loss. How can I
know that Doctor Lancaster's ene
mies are not waiting for him, or have
not hurt hint?”
The matron placed her hand on the
glri’s knee. “Why, my dear, Doctor
Lancaster has no enemies,” she said.
“How could such.a splendid man have
enemies? Of course there are trou
\bles; who hasn’t them? And It may
be there’s things that Doctor Jenkins
apd I don't know—I’ve thought there
might be. But we’ve only been liere
.three years, and that was long after
the doctor’s troubles began. And of
course we never listened to the vil
lage grtsslp. But oh. Miss Wentworth,
you can’t Imagine the sorrow in our
hearts when we saw *kat splendid
man giving way to Ids linfht. and let
ting K creep over him little by little
and gain tl^e mastery.
4 4 At first, when I came here, it
was
only at times that he’d take the mor
phine, and then he’d hnve terrible out
bursts of rage, and his mind would go,
especially when tie’d have those fits
after he came back from Avonmouth.
But after that the hoodoo got him.
That was when I was afraid."
“The hoodoo?" inquired Joan.
“Mlse Wentworth, the devil who
was at him so long got hold of him
once or twice. I’ve seen him come
back from Avonmouth a different man.
Miss Wentworth. That’s when I've
been afraid. Recnuse the devil that
can kill the body Isn’t much of a
devil, but when he kills the soul therv
is no help but prayer. When lie’s }a
those dreadful moods he’s anottier
man. He’s a wicked man. Miss Went
worth, nnd I’d shoot him then, If lit
tried to harm me or any of mine, and
I wouldn't think I’d killed Doctor Lan
caster. It all began after they accused
him of stealing the trust funds. *»
I “It is not true,” Mbi-IoaD.
...
But you see old Doctor Lancaster
didn't leave the charge of the fund
to Ids son; he left it in the care of
the trustees. And there were -com
plications about the hospital at Avon
moutli. And then, after the doctor’s
bride ran away on the eve of theit
marriage it changed all his nature."
1 have heard of that," said Joan
quietly. ti But we must not discuss
that in the doctor’s absence."
‘‘Why, everybody knows about that,
Miss Wentworth. Before it happened
they say the doctor was the most re
spected man ill Lancaster. He’d been
b 0 rn here, you know, on the planta
tion down in the valley Millville way.
She was a Miss Reid. She came from
Farnley county. She was the reigning
belle there, admired and flattered, and
il turned her heart to a stone to have
all the men after her, crazy to marry
her. The doctor was a young man
then, and he couldn’t see any further
into her heart, such as It was, than
The rest of them
! “She led the doctor a chase before
s he promised him, they say. But the
very day before their marriage was to
have been she left her- home without
a word to anyone, to go off with an
other man who's never been dlscov
e red. That broke the doctor up. He
took to drugs then, they tell me. The
institute had been a big place before;
p stood over on Morley’s hill, but It
burned down one night, and we took
this old farm house. And the doctor
was using the funds, they said, and
wasn’t responsible at all.
! “The trustees found that the money
was gone. Nobody knew where It
went, because the doctor had his own
Inheritance, and he wasn’t the man to
steal or squander. They wouldn’t do
anything to him, because of his fam
ily, but they put Mr. Myers in charge
of the finances. That’s all. None of
us liked him, but what could we do
about it? He was here when Doctor
Jenkins and I were appointed, and as
goon as we understood how matters
were we agreed to stay as long as we
could and try to help the doctor.”
“Mrs. Fraser, I want to know why
I Mr. Myers Inched Doctor Lancaster
to use morphine, said Joan.
“Miss Wentworth—”
'You know- he did. You told
so. And Doctor Jenkins knows.”
The matron looked agitated. “What
could we do?” she cried. Suppose
we knew, t wo .p^O e .....do -
agaiust—a - man- like- Myers?^ St)f)pose
we had said so, who would have be
lieved us? We did all we could do;
and we all loye'the doctor and would
rather stay with him and help where
we could than be discharged and do
nothing.”
8he looked at Joan piteously. like a
child caught in wrong-doing.
“1 know you did your best,” an
swered the girl. “Rut why should
Doctor Lancaster .stay here In Myers'
power, instead of at his home in
Avonmouth, where he Is respected
and powerful? Nothing of all this is
known
The matron wrung her hands. “I
don’t know,” she answered, ‘I sup
pose that man lias had him by the
throat in more ways than we know.
Whenever the doctor used to go to
Avonmouth Mr. Myers would go with
him, and generally he’d come back
with him. Miss Wentworth, till you
came here the doctor wasn't a man;
what with his drugs and the hold Mr.
Myers had over him, he was just a
machine. And Mr. Myers was the
driver.”
John had the feeling that she should
not listen to the matron’s talk about
Lancaster; It seemed disloyal of her;
but she felt, too, that she must know
more, nnd speedily, if she was to
thwart that menacing evil which she
sensed more and more clearly as the
'
moments passed.
pluming “Miss Wentworth,”, said the matron,
her hand on the girl's arm
firmly, “there's something else I ought
to hftve told you about. Mrs. Dana—”
“Hark!” interrupted Joan, holding,
up her hand for silence.
Then they heard, a long distance
away, and inaudible to one whose at
tention was not strained, like theirs,
the sound o( the wheels of Jenkins’
buggy.
Chapter X
Joan hurried out upon the veranda
and stood peering under her raised
hand across the ruin-swamped fields
to where, the carriage road wound In
and out among the hills. The sun
had set, and It was beginning to grow
dusk; a bat was flitting under the
eaves, nnd the steady downpour never
ceased. Mrs. Fraser, who had moved
to follow the girl, went back Into her
room. There was a queer, troubled
pucker about her lips, and once she
went to the door and looked Intently
at Joan, wjio hud not stirred from her
GRIFFIN DAILY NEWS
position i >i «» 4 .eet artev. the
Presently, looking out -through
dripping trees, Joan coutd see the
buggy crawling up the hill through
the mud. Slowly it moved along the
road. Jenkins was driving, and there
were two tuen with him, not one. Joan
recognised Lancaster; then she per
ceivcd, first the hard hat, next Myers’
face under It.
She shuddered. The worst had com£
about, then. But the last battle was
Joined, and under her fears she felt
a hardening of her spiritual resources.
She would not falter. She went slow
ly toward the top of the three low
wooden steps, and stood there like a
statue, watching the buggy pass up
the weetf-grown drive until it came to
a standstill.
Lancaster and Myers were laughing
together, and, as Myers saw the girl,
lie said something, and the other
threw back his head in merriment.
* Myers was the first to descend- He
raised his hat to Joan and grinned.
‘‘The doctor’s come bacft\ quite safe,
you see,’’ he said, “and 'feeling \ fine
again.”
Joan hardly noticed the /man; she
was bracing herself to beu/ what was
to come.
Lancaster got out, and .Tenk.tis, con
trary to his custom, lushed the horse
violently and drove rapidly away.
Myers and Lancaster came up the
steps of the porch together. Now Lan
caster was raising his hat in turn, and
under it was the face of the smirking
bully of the operating theater at the
Avonmouth hospital.
“Well, I had a fine trip to Avon
mouth, my dear, and I hurried back as
fast as I could, to see you. I couldn't
stay away from you very long, Joan,
after you saved my life. And I per
suaded Mr. Myers to return with me.
We’re all going to be good friends,
Mrs. Fraser! Mrs. Fraser! Where
the devil are you?” he bawled.
Mrs. Ft-aseris-frtghtened face ap
at the door. “Here, sir!” she
stammered.
r< Ig supper ready? If so, we’ll all
eat together.”
“It’s waiting, sir. I’ll lay anothet
place,” said the matron.
- Good! Then we’il go in. What dc
you say, Joan, darling? Aren’t you
glad to see me?” he asked, linking his
arm in the girl’s and advancing his
face within a few Inches of hers.
With a sob Joan tore herself away
from him and ran upstairs at the top
of her speed.. She was choking wltl
grief and shame. Hard as she ran
she knew her -flight was an incentive
to Lancaster to follow her. He went
ofter her as fast as he could, and, as
she slammed the door of her room
his hand was on the knob outside. She
was just too late to turn the key.
■ Joan! Joan! Open the door ant
dqn’t act like a little fool!” he shout
ed. What’s the matter with you!
Ain't you glad I’ve come back? Say
I’ve got a half dozen bottles of th*
fizzy stuff In my bag, and we tbrei
will make a night of it. ■
“Oh, won’t you please leave me?’
pleaded Joan. “Try to remember how
—how different you were yesterday.'
“That’s true!” he swore. “I’m dtf
ferent now. I was a sanctimonious
mug yesterday. I’m In my right mint
today. It gave me the blue creeps
being cooped up here in this God
forsaken place. I tell you, Joan, now
that I’ve hnd enough goo d liquor u
soak that morp hine, out of my systeu
I’m feeling like a king. Say, now
come dnw-n to supper, like a good lit
tie girl, and we’ll have a great thus
together. Myers doesn’t bear any III
feeling. And we’ll put him out afte:
a while nnd finish up the bottles our
Selves. And say—
He was advancing toward her with
his arms outstretched. Joan sprung
back to the washstand and snatched
up the half-filled pitcher, with such an
evident determination to defend her
self with it that the man fell back
scowling.
“Joan, don’t be a little Jackass!”
he shouted angrily, I know what
you mean when you look at me like
that. You think you’re above being
jolly and sociable, just because I don’t
choose to stand on my dignity tonight.
Did you expect me to go about al
ways looking like a sanctified mummy,
as I did when I was ill?"
“Listen, Doctor Lancaster,” panted
the girl. “I am not going to judge you
by what you are saying now. Leave
me, and tomorrow, if you are yourself,
I shall be willing to hear your explan
ation, because I know It Is not your
better self that is speaking. Leave
my room now, please, Immediately!”
The man glared at her; but he was
dominated, in spite of himself, by her
^durage and apparent calmness.
“Well, I’m not going to fight with
you before I've had my supper,” he
answered. You tiYnk things over,
and in a little while I guess you'll see
them in a different light. You can't
fool me with those mock airs and
graces, dearie. I’ve seen them in
women before. Used to believe in
them once, too, till I found it meant
that it was going to cost me more in
the end. Yon come down and act
straight, Joan—see?”
He slammed the door viciously be
hind him. Joan fell upon her knees
jbeside her bed. There, tearless, but
‘Shaken wifh her grief, she poured out
|a wild This prayer for the lost than soul of the
man. was worse anything
she eould have divined. Better by far
that lie had returned as on that earlier
day, drugged und possessed by the
morphine spirit than in the chains of
this devil. Better that he had died.
For Uncaster., even when the shifty,
falser lying drug fiend was In control
of him. had never been vicious and
vile like this before.
j And yet this was the John Uncas
ter of the Southern hospital. It was
the traditional Uncaster in his hour
.of relaxation, lie treated women
ananiefuMy, as n gossiping nurse had
said. Joan Imd never been In tear of
physk-arltarm as she was now. She
rose from her knees, looking wildly
about her. Then she heard footsteps
outside, end she sprang back across
the room. •
j Rut it was only the matron. Mrs.
Fraser cast a scared glance at her and
ran forward. “What did he say to
you?” she cried,
“I am afraid of him. l‘ dare not
stay here, Where shall l goY-wird
tjoan, losing all self-control,
in the midst of her terror Joan sud
denly realized that the look upon the
matron’s face was the same as on her
first night, when they had held a brief
conversation in the same room.
For n moment Mrs, Fraser did not
answer her. The \v. men drew togeth
er, listening. They were having sup
per !»elmv, conversing in boisterous
tones and lattgliing loudly. Joan lieard
her own name spoken, and a renewed
outburst of mirth followed.
“Mrs. Fraser,” said Joan, "the Doc
tor Lancaster whom I. respect and
honor Is not in \thnt man’s body; 1
am going away. \ aiii going at once.
I shall ask Doctor Jenkins to protect
me until tomorrow. Me Is n gentle
tuan; he will do so.”
__
I “You can't go through this storm,”
'exclaimed the other, and. ns she spoke,
iJoan realized that the wind had risen
- to hurricane, and the houghs
a
creaked and snapped like pistol shots.
j“Yon with must and stay i’ll Were tonight. he shall . Stay not
me, swear
hurt you. Look at this!”
She pulled a revolver from beneath
'her apron and handed It to Joan.
I've kept that ever since the last
time he came back like this, when he
; went raving the patients,
among mad
with liquor. That was the end of the
iinstitution. He frightened a sick girl
(almost to death. Use It on him If you
'must—use It, because It won't be him
J^nrtr idm. n Uinp hrit The devil that's got
OV-- .•e was almost incoherent with feat*
and excitement. Joan took the re
vOlver and slipped It into the pocket
of her uniform. Oddly enough, she
’felt that the Lancaster of that eve
ning 'caster had so grossly wronged the Lun
of earlier days that to kill him
iyiuld be to avenge an intolerable out
rage. She of hated which him with heart all the
intensity her was
capable, hated him for the wrong he
■had done himself, the outrage on their
ilove; and under the hate the flume
of the love she had home burned pure
'nnd clear.
’ It was long since dark, but the maid
had not lit the lamp outside Mrs.
^Dana’s door, near the head of the
jstalrs. *The The crept moon cautiously had not yet along risen. the
women
hall.
I Lancaster and the secretary were in
Myers' room. The door was open.
Joan heard a cork fly with a bang,
and the gurgle of the champagne in
glasses. Their voices were raised t
high, and there came the sound of a
scuffle. • '
“Sit down 1” the secretary was cry
,ing. “Do you want to be n fool nnd
spoil everything.' Leave her alone
unt 1 tomorrow. -
“I’m d—d If I do!” cried Lancaster.
“Wait a minute! Listen to me!
jYou agreed to come hack here and put
iher I out. Why don’t you do It now?”
fbause Lancaster laughed coarsely, “Be
she’s too <f— n pretty, Myers,”
!he answered.
“It’s the drink In you. She Isn’t
better-looking than any average wom
an In Avonmouth. See here, are you
going to bust up the game or are you
not?”
Til show you!” shouted Lancaster,
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He Seized the Matron by the Shoulders
and Pushed Her Back Into Her
Room.
breaking from Myers’ grasp and rush
ing from the room.
He met the women at the foot of
the stairs. His face was flushed, Ids
hair disordered, ids manner maniacal.
“You sneak, what are you hutting
into this show for?” he demanded of
| Mrs. Fraser.
J | The matron, cowed by his violence,
trembled. She tried to pull Joan to
ward her room; jin a caught her eye
and made the slightest gesture indica
tive of shooting, Lancaster raised
his first threateningly.
The matron did not lift a finger to
i . 1 **" . 1 , . She '^ lte calro
| I 1 ' * to ?"
th * «P*ried blow; per
I , ‘ a “* « 8 ® nae atav ' 8t,c traU In '
herltc d tbrou f *««at on. of poor
“ C ** t , f* = “ d • ltkou « h lt
*>~n, th* look on the worn
an’s fac* wan almost twolcsL
The wMMttbllik
\ (To JSe Continued./
Hall Where iidge Spoke IM
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New photogruph of Carpenters’ hall, In Philadelphia, in which 1’resldent
Coolidge spoke on September 26, the one hundred anti fiftieth anniversary of
the first Continental congress and th# two hundredth anniversary of the found
ing of the Carpenters' company. In this hail the first congress met.
Some of
(By J. A. Darsey)
“At a regular meeting of Pythag
Chapter, No, 10, R. A. M.
December 13, 1883, the
officers were elected: M.
H. P., H. C. Burr; E. S., N. B.
C. H., C. S. Burr; P. S., I.
third veil, W.. H. Powell;
veiI> j. L . Moore; first veil,
’, A . ’ Xlr Warren - . , _ M m ’ J t ’ Pa ^‘
secretary, J. F. Stilwell; senti
» C. B. Smith.
<< Mr. Charles H. Westbrook and
Miss Blanche Drewry, daughter of
Hon. N. B. Drewry, were married
Thursday evening, December 20,
1883. Joy go with them. The fol
lowing is a list of presents they re
ceived: card case, Miss M. E. Port
er; butter dish, Misses Westbrook;
bronze Vase, H. M. Amos; flower
stand, Mrs. E. M. Drewry; castor,
C. Burr; forks, T. E. Drewry;
table spoons, Mrs. N. B. Drewry;
tea spoons, master Joe Drewry; sil
ver gp oons, Frank R. Jones; plush
m ; rrorj j_ Deane; napkin rings,
Miss Maggie Johnson; flower stands,
Mrs. G. R. McCall; pickle stand, J.
T. Stephenson; butter dish, J.P. Nich
ols; butter knife, Minor Carpenter;
amber vase, Miss Laura Brown;
berry spoons, Mrs. Nelms; set nap
kin rings, H. H. Bass; house and
lot, N. B. Drewry; napkin rings, Miss
Fannie McDowell; case silver spoons,
A. Y. A. R.; flower vase, Miss Lula
Richardson. •*
At an election held in Tuesday
December 18, 1883, the follow
were elected officers of Meridian
lodge: W. M., J. Lowenstein; S.
C. H. Westbrook; J. W., J. P.
treasurer M. J. Patrick; ty
C. B. Smith; S. D., H. C. Burr;
D., S. L. Wooten. »>
tl Henry Rape, an old citizen of this
place, was stricken with paralysis
and is now confined to his home in
South Griffin. >> (Dec. 23, 1883.)
(4 Mrs. W. M. Smith, of Sunny Side,
has a washtub that has been in use
26 years and .is- in good condition
yet. She also has a loom that has
The Obscure art d Faithful
What we call illusions are often, in
truth, a wider vision of past and pics
ent realities— a willing movement of a
man’s soul with the larger sweep of
the 1 * world's forces-—a movement to
ward a more assured end than the
chances of a single life. We see hu
man heroism broken Into units and
say this unit did little—might as well
not have been. But in this way we
might break - up a great army into
Units; in tills way we might break the
sunlight Into fragments, and think
ttiat this and the other might be
cheaply parted with it. Let us, rather,
raise a monument to the soldiers
whose brave hearts only kept the
ranks unbroken, and met death—a
monument to the faithful who were
not famous, and who are precious as
the continuity of the sunbeams Is pre
cious, though’ some of them fall un
seen and on barrenness.—George Eliot.
Leverage
“Can any one tell me." Inquired th*
professor, “what was said by the
Greek philosopher Archimedes.?” “Sir,"
said the siwirtsmnn In plus fonra,
"what the old gent said, in the ver
nacular of ihe day. was ‘Give roe a
stance and I’ll hole out in one,’”—
London Dallv Express.
Truth About Riches
niches are not an end of life,
• instrument of life.—Henry
e< h< r.
PAGE SI
running 44 years and a spin
wheel 40 years old, both of
are still in use. She also has
chair, over one hundred year* old
not a round broken. ft (Looms
j spinning wheels have been rele
; ,ted to the past and would now ba
of curiosity I doubt if
nv y of the - VOU ng and rising gen- a
have ever seop one of these
band looms and spinning wheels,
writer clearly remembers seeing
in operation and to have heard
sweet hum of industry as she
her own thread to ^ i ate r wo
into c ) ot h from which garment).
f or the family were to be made. Nov
it is aU done by machinery and th •
c j oth ma de ready for garments b<
f ore reac hing the hands of the far
Those days were good old d»:
an( ] j on g to be remembered.)
“William Mickelberry King, fa
miliarly known as “Mick,” a pet ter
rier of Mr. J. C. King, met a trag
ic death at the hands of an assassin
on Tuesday evening, December 18,
1883.
C. King, he had a little dog,
His hair was black and tan,
Tnd everywhere that King did go,
The dog was close at hand.
Poor Mick is dead, that good old dog.
We ne’er shall see him more,
He wore his tail cut short behind,
His lips turned up before.
is dead! Alas the
That cost thy life, my pet,
O’er rats and mice you held sway,
And killed them all, you bet.
Poor Mick is—gone! No true friend
Man ever knew before.
The first to welcome and defend,
He’s gone forever more.
' A fKiend. t*
“On January 2, 1884, John I. Hall,
Jas. S. Boynton, E. W. Beck, F. D.
Dismuke, S. C. McDaniel, W. C.
Beeks, Jno. J. Hunt, Chas, R. John
son, Robt. T. Daniel, T. R. Mills,
Noah M. Collins, C. R. Judkins,
Frank Flynt, Lloyd Cleveland, E. W.
and Thos. W. Thurman
filed a petition to the superior court
to be incorporated as the Griffin Bar
Association, with a capital stock
0 f ^ 000 00 M
These men constituted the Bar of
Griffin at this time, and a mere
glance at the names of the men
constituting it is sufficient to satisfy
a man that they were • practically
all high class, outstanding men of
their clay and generation. Judge
John D. Stewart, who was judge of
the superior court at the time, and
an able lawyer, also lived here. Out
of this number of men, four served
on the superior court bench, Hall, *
Boynton, Stewart and Daniel. One
wga at one time a member of con
gress, E. W. Beck. One was at one
time governor of Georgia, James S.
Boynton. Hammond, Dismuke and
Hunt served the county as ordinary.
Practically all of the others have at
some time filled county or city posi
tions of trust and honor.
- Marshal Manley has made a good
officer so far."
"Mr. Frank Staabler and family,
of St. Petersburg, Va., have moved
into the E. W. Rhodes dwelling and
will make Griffin their home.”
Sixty-six kinds of birds in the
southeastern states feed on the boll-"
weevil.