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The Root
of Evil
_ SYNOPSIS
Stuart, southern lawyer in New York, is
ih love with Nan Primrose. His friend,
Dr. Woodman, who has a young daugh
ter, is: threatensd with the loss of his
drug business by Bivens, whom he, be
friended years .bafore. Stuart visits the
Primroses.
Stuart pleads with Nan to give up Biv
ens, but the spell of millions is on her and
she ylelds ‘to'it.
BIVENns could scarcely belleve his ears
when he listened with open -mouth
while his majesty spoke to Stuart.
“Great Scott, Jim!" he gasped at last.
‘““That’s the longest speech 1 ever heard
him make. 1 knew you had scored the
biggest hit any lawyer has made in
this town in a generation, but I never
dreamed you'd capture the king’s im
agination. I’'m beginning to think my
offer wasn’t so generous after all. Look
here., you've got to promise me one
thing right now. When you do go in
to make your pile it shall be with me
and no other man.”
Nan passed and threw him a gra
cious smile,
*“lt will be with you if I go, Cal. |
promise. At least the king is one ex
ception to your indictment of all great
fortunes.”
“That’s the funniest thing of all,”
Bivens whispered. *“He’s not an ex
ception. Understand. I’m loyal to the
king. He's a wonder. 1 like him. |
like his big head, his big shaggy eye
brows, his big hands and big feet. |
like to hear him grow! and snap his
answer—‘Yes,” ‘No’—that means life or
death to men who kneel at his feet.
He’s a dead game sport. But he, too.
has his little blots in his early copy
books at school if you care to turn the
pages.”
“No!” Stuart interrupted incredu
lously.
“Yes, sir; he turned the slickest trick
on Uncle Sam of all the bunch. He
was a youngster, and it was his first
deal. When the civil war broke out the
government had no guns for the volun
teers. He learned that there were
5,000 old Hall carbines stored away
among the junk in one of the national
arsenals in New York. He bought
these guns (on a credit) for a song,
about $3 apiece, and shipped them to
General Fremont, who was in St. Louis
howling for arms. Fremont agreed to
pay $22.50 each for the nmew rifles and
closed the deal at once by drawing on
the government for enough to enable
the young buccaneer to pay his three
dollar contract price to Uncle Sam in
New York and lay aside a snug sum
for a rainy day besides.
“When Fremont found that the guns
were worthless he advised the gov
ernment to stop payment on the bal
ance. [t was stopped on the ground of
fraud. And then the youngster show
“ed the stuff he was made of. Did he
craw!l and apologize? Not much. He
sued the United States government for
the full amount and pushed that suit
to the supreme court. In the face of
the sneers of his enemies he won and
took the full amount with interest.
He’s the king today because he was
porn a king. His father was a million.
aire before him. He’s the greatest
financial genius of the century.”
Bivens paused and a dreamy look
came into the black eyes.
“Jim,” he continued with slow em
phasis, “I'd rather get my fingers on
his throat in a death struggle than
lead the combined armies of the world
to victory.”
Stuart was silent.
The soft tones of hidden oriental
gongs began to chime the call for din
ner. The chimes melted into a beau
tiful piece of orchestral music which
seemed to steal from the sky, so skill
fully had the musicians been cenceal
ed. Nan suddenly appeared by Stmart’s
side, and he was given the homor of
leading his hostess into the banquet
ball before even the king, while the
great ones of earth slowly followed.
CHAPTER XV.
The Dance of Death.
FLUSH of excited plessure
overspread Stuart’s face as
he led his beautiful hostess to
the dining room. Apparently
on entering the banquet hall they were
stepping outdoors into an enchanted
pine forest. The walls were complete
ly hidden by painted scenery repre
senting the mountains of western
North Carolina. The room had been
transformed into a forest, trees and
ghrubbery melting imperceptibly into
the scemery on the walls and mock
ing birds were sln&'lng, mfmthe ":‘:de“
igh among the boughs o :
hEWhy, Nan,” Stuart gasped. “that’s
a view of the river hills at" home
here you and I used to roam.
W'Wel{ou you hadn’t recognized it. 1
chould never have forgiven you Are
you pleased with my fantasy 7’ 2
«Pleased s Dot the word for it,
he replied quickly. “T'm ontwholn:d.
1 never thought you so sentimental.
«Perhaps I'm not; perhaps I've only
done this to please a friend. Do you
begin t 0 feel at home in this little
tion which said to her, “Tumultuous\
applause.” |
She nodded and smiled. and he rush
ed behind the scenes to ask an expla
nation. ’
He grasped both her hands und
found them cold and trembling with
excitement.
“What on ehrth does this mean?”
“Simply that I was engaged to sing
tonight, and 1 wanted to surprise you.
Didn’t you like my song?"
“It iifted me to the gates of heaven,
dear.”
“Then 1 don’t care whether any one
else heard it or not. But I did so much
wish that she might have heard it or
her husband because they are from the
south.™
“But I don't understand—your father
hates Bivens so."
A big hand was laid on his shoulder.
he turned and faced the doctor smiling.
“But I don't hate him, my boy! I've
given up such foolishness. We've
buried the hatchet. I'm to see him in
a few minutes and we are to be good
friends.” :
“Bivens invited you here to discuss
a business proposition tonight!” Stuart
exclaimed, blankly.
“No, no, no,” the doctor answered.
*]l came with Harriet, of course. Her
music teacher placed her on the pro
gram. But Mr. Bivens and I have had
some correspondence and I'm to see
him in a little while and talk things
over quite informally, of course, but
effectively.”
“He has agreed to a conference
here?" the young lawyer asked.
anxiously.
“Why. of course. His butler has just
told me he would see me immediately
after the ball begins.”
Stuart breathed easier and turned to
Harriet. :
“You look glorious tonight, little pal!
Funny that ! never saw you in even
fng dress before. You look =o tall and
queenly, so grown, so mature. You're
beginning to make me feel old, child.
I'll be thinking of you as a grown
woman next.”
1 am twenty-four, you know,” she
said, simply.
“] have never believed It until to
night. I wouldn’t have known you at
first but for your voice. I had to rub
my eyes then.”
"The lights were suddenly turned
lower, approaching total darkness.
The attendants noiselessly removed
the temporary stage and cleared the
great room for the dancers.
As the chimes struck the hour of
midnight, skeleton heads slowly began
to appear peeping from the shadows
of the arched ceiling and from every
nook and corner of the huge cornice
and pillars. Draperies of filmy crape
flowing gently in the breeze were
lighted by sulphurous hued electric
rays from the balconies. Tiny electric
lights blinked in every skeleton's
sunken eyes and behind each grinning
row of teeth. Suddenly two white
figures drew aside the heavy curtains
in the archway and the dancers
marched into the somber room.
The men were dressed as shrouded
skeletons and the women as worms.
The men wore light flimsy gray robes
on which skillful artists had painted
on four sides in deep colors the pic
tures of human skeletons.
The women wore curious light robes
of cotton fiber which were drawn over
the entire body and gave to each figure
the appearance of a huge caterpiilar.
The strange figures began to move
slowly across the polished floor to the
strains of a ghostlike waltz.
From the corners of the high balco
nies strange lights flashed, developing
in hideous outlines and phosphor
escent colors of the skeletons and long,
fuzzy, exaggerated lines of the ac
companying worms. The effect was
thrilling.
Suddenly the music stopped with a
crash. Each ghostly couple, skeleton
and worm, stood motionless. The
silvery note of a trumpet called from
the sky. The blinking eyes of the
death heads in the ceiling and on the
walls faded slowly. The trumpet
pealed a second signal—the darkness
fled and the great room suddenly
blazed with 10,000 electric lights. The
orchestra struck the first notes of a
thrilling waltz, and, presto, in an in
stant the women appeared in all the
splendor of the most gorgeous gowns,
their bare arms and necks flashing
with priceless jewels, and each man
bowed before her in immaculate even
ing clothes.
From the four corners of the vast room
were released thousands of gorgeous
ly tinted butterflies, imperted from
the tropies for the oceasion. As the
dancers glided through the dazzling
scene these wonderfully colored crea
tures fluttered about them in myriads.
darting and ecircling in every direction
among the flowers and lights until the
room seemed a veritable fairyland.
A burst of applause swept the crowd
as Nan’s radiant figure passed, encir
vled by the arm of the leader.
Stuart nodded and elapped his bands
with enthusiasm,
A more marvelous transformatioa
scene could scarcely be imagined.
When Nan had passed he turned to
speak to Harriet, but ske had gone.
A soft hand was suddenly laid on his
arm, and he turned to confromt Nan,
her eyes fiashing with triumph, her
cheeks flushed and ber lips partied in a
tender smile.
“Come. 'm going to bobor you by
sitting out the next two dances.”
When she had seated berself by his
side under a bower of roses he was
very still for a moment. She looked
up with a quizzieal expression and
said:
“A penny for your thoughts. Am I
go very wicked 2fter all?” :
“] don’t think I have ever seen any
thing more dazzlingly beautiful tham
your banquet and ball, except the wo
man who conceived and executed it. 1
was just wondering whether your
THE LEADER--ENTERPRISE. FRIDAY DECTMBER, 27 1912
spot I've brought back by magic to
night from our youth?”
“I'm afraid I'll wake up and find
I'm dreaming.”
Stuart gazed with increasing astonish.
ment at the’ magnificently set table.
Winding in and out among the solid
silver candelabra a tiny stream ot
crystal water flowed among miniature
trees and flowers on its banks. The
flowers were all blooming orchids of
rarest coloring and weirdly fantastic
shapes.
The service was all made for this
occasion, silver, cut glass and china.
Each piece had stamped or etched on
it the coat of arms of his native state,
with the motto, *Peace and Plenty.”
“And you've done all this In six
weeks? It's incredible.”
*The world will say tomorrow morn.
ing that 1 have given this lavish en
tertainment for vulgar display. In a
sense it's true. I am trying to eclipse
in splendor anything New York bas
seen. But I count the fortune it cost
well spent to have seen the smile on
your face when you looked at that
painting of our old bills. 1 would have
given five times as much at any mo
ment the past ten years to have known
that you didn’t hate me.”
*You know it now.”
“Yes,” she answered tenderly. “You
have said so with your lips before,
now you mean it. You are your old
handsome self tonight.”
Apart from the charm of Nan's pres
ence Stuart found the dinner itself &
stupid affair, so solemnly stupid it at
last became funny. In all the mag
nificently dressed crowd he looked in
vain for a man or woman ot real in
tellectual distinction. He saw only
money, money, money!
in spite of the low murmurs of Nan's
beautifully modulated voice in his ears
he found his anger slowly rising, not
against any one lin particular, but
against the vulgar ostentation in which
these people moved, and the vapid as
sumption of superiority with which
they evidently looked out upon the
world.
But whatever might have been lack
ing in the wit and genius of the guests
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She Sang as He Had Never Heard Her
Sing.
who sat at Nan’s tables, there could
be no question about the quality ot
the dinner set before them.
When the feast ended at 10:30 Nan
led the way to the ballroom, where
the entertainment by hired dancers,
singers and professional entertainers
began on an improvised stage.
During this part of the program the
women and men of the banqueting
party who were to appear in the fancy
dress ball at 12, including Nan, retired
to the rooms above to dress for their
parts.
Stuart noted with some astonishment
the peculiar somber effects of the ball
room. He had expected a scene of
splendor. Instead the impression was
distinctly funereal. The lights were
dimmed like the interior of a theater
during the performance, and the lofty
gilded ceilings with their mural decora
tions seemed to be draped in filmy
black crape.
The professional entertainment be
gan on the little stage amid a univer
sal gabble which made it impossible
for anything save pantomime to be in
telligible beyond the footlights. Star
after star, whese services had cost
$l,OOO each for one hour, appeared
without commanding the slightest at
tention.
Stuart turned to the program in his
pand and idly read the next number:
“A song by an unknown star.” .
He was wondering what joke the
manager was about to perpetrate on
the crowd when his ear caught the first
gweet notes of Harriet's voice singing
the old song he loved so well, the song
she bad first sung the day he came
from the south.
His heart gave a throb of pain. Who
could bave prepared this humiliation
for his little pal? He pushed his way
through the throng of chattering fools
until he stood alone straight in front of
the slender little singer. She saw him
at once, smiled and sang as he had
mever heard her sing. To his further
surprise Stuart saw the doctor stand
ing in the shadows at the corner of the
stage looking over the gossiping, noisy
erowd with a look of anger and horror.
When the last mote of the song died
away, quivering with a supernataral
tenderness and passion, he brushed s
tear from his eyes, lifted his bhands
kigh above his head and made 2 ino
{magination was vivid enough to have
dreamed half the splendors of such a
life when you turned from the little
cottage 1 built for you.”
A look of pain clouded the fair face,
and she lifted her jeweled hand.
*“Please, Jim, I'd like to forget some
things.”
*And you haven't forgotten?”
She looked straight into his eyes and
answered in even tones:
“No."
Both were silent for a long while,
and then they began to talk In low
tones of the life they had lived as boy
and girl in the old south and forgot
the flight of time.
CHAPTER XVI,
The Last illusien.
HE ionger Dr. Woodman watch
ed the barbaric, sensual dis
play of wealth sweeping be
fore him, the deeper his spirits
sank. The butler touched his arm.
and he turned with a sudden start.
“Mr. Blvens will be pleased to see
you in the little library, sir, if you
will come at once.”
When the doctor was ushered into
the library Bivens, who was awaiting
him alone, sprang to his feet with a
look of blank amazement, and then a
smile began to play about his hard
mouth. |
“My servant announced that a gen
tleman wished to speak to me a mo
ment. Wlll you be good enough to tell
me what you are doing in this house
tonight?"
The doctor paused and hesitated. his
face scarlet from the deliberate In
sult.
“I must really ask your pardon, Mr.
Bivens, for my apparent intrusion. It
‘is only apparent. I came with my
daughter. She sang tonight on your
program.”
*“Oh, 1 see, with the other hired
singers. Well, what do you want?"
“Only a few minutes of your time
on a matter of grave importance.”
*I don't care-to discuss business here
tonight, Woodman,” Bivens broke in
abruptly. *“Come to my office."
“] have been there three or four
times,” the doctor went on hurriedly.
+and wrote you twice. I felt sure that
my letters had not reached you. |
hoped for the chance of a moment to
night to lay my case before you.”
*“All right, I'll give you five min
utes.”
“I felt sure you had not seen wy
letters.”
“I'll ease your mind on that ques
tion. 1 did see them both. You got
my answer?" s
“That’s just it. I didn’t. And I
couldn’t understand it.”
~ “Oh, I gee!” Bivens' mouth quivered
with the slightest sneer. *‘Perhaps it
was lost in transit!”
| The sneer was lost on the doctor.
- ITe was too intent on his purpose.
} “T know. It was a mistake. 1 see it
now, and I'm perfectly willing to pay
jfor that mistake by accepting even
" half of your last proposition.”
~ Bivens laughed cynically.
*“This might be serious, Woodman, if
it wasn't funny. DBut you had as well
know once and for all that T owe you
nothing. Your suit has been lost.
Your appeal has been forfeited. My
answer is bl'ipf. but to the point—not
one cent. My generosity is for my
friends—not my enemies.”
“But we are not enemies personally,”
the doctor explained good naturedly.
“1 have put all bitterness out of my
heart and come tonight to ask that by
gones be bygones. You know that in
God’s great book of accounts you are
my debtor.”
*1 owe you nothing.”
In every accent of the financier’s
voice the man Dbefore him felt the
deadly merciless hatred whose fires
had been smoldering for years.
The doctor's voice was full of ten
derness when he replied at last:
“My boy,” he began quietly—*for
you are still a boy when you stand be
side my gray hairs—men may fight one
another for a great principle without
being personal enemies. We are men
still, with common hopes, fears, ills.
criefs and joys. When I was a soldier
I fought the southern army, shot and
shot to kill. I was fighting for a prin
ciple. When the firing ceased I belped
the wounded men on the field as 1
came to them.”
His voice quivered and broke for an
instant. ¢
“You have won. You can afford to
be generous. That you can deny me
in this the hour of my desolation is
unthinkable. I'm not pleading for
myself. I can live on a rat’'s allow
ance. I'm begging for my little girl.
I need $2,000 immediately to com
plete her musical studies. Deep down
in your heart of hearts you know that
the act would be one of justice be
tween man and man.”
“As a charity, Woodman, I might
give you the paltry $50.000 you ask.”
“I’ll take it as a charity,” he cried
eagerly, “take it with joy and gratitude
and thank God for his salvation sent
in the hour of my need.”
“But in reality you demand justice
of me? Come to the point, Woodman,
what is in your mind when you say
that 1 am your debtor?”’
“Simply that I have always known
that your formula for that drink was
a prescription which I compounded |
years ago and which you often fiiled
for me when I was busy. As a phy
sician I could not patent such a thing.
You 'had as much right to patent it as
any one else.”
“In other words,” Bivens interrupted
coldly. “you inform me that you have
always known that I stole from your
prescription counter the formula which
gave me my first fortune,”
The flnancier began to speak with
slow venomous energy:
“I’ve let you ramble on in your
msudlin . talk, Woodman, because it
amused me. For years I've waitedl
your coming. Your unexpected ad-}
vent is the sweetest triumph of this |
festival night.” '
He paused and a sinister smile playedl
about his mouth. *“The last time I
saw you I promised myself that I'd
make you come to me the next time
and when you did that you'd come on
your hands and knees. And 1 swore
that when you looked up into my face
groveling and whining for mercy as
you have tonight, I'd call my servants
and order them to kick you down my
doorstep.”
He leaned #ncross the massive fiat
top desk to touch an electric button.
The doctor's fist suddenly gripped
the outstretched bhand and his eyes
glared Into the face of the financier
with the dangerous look of a madman.
“You had better not ring that bell.
yet,” he said. with forced quiet in his
tones.
“Your tirnde gives me an idea,” said
Bivens. *“l1 want you to stay until the
festivities end. and enjoy yourself.
Take a look over my house. It cost
two millions to build it, and requires
half a million a year to keep it up.
The butterfiies those dancers are crush
ing beneath thelr feet in my ballroom
[ imported from Central America at
a cost of $5.000. The favors in jewel
ry 1 shall give to my rich guests who
have no use for them will be worth
$25.000. Remember that I spent three
hundred and tifty thousand on this
banquet, which lasted eight hours.
and that I will see you and your
daughter dead and in the bottomless
pit before I will give you one penny.
Enjoy yourself, It's a tine evening.”
Before the doctor could answer, the
financier laughed and left the room.
Ifor a long time the dazed man stood
‘motionless. He passed his big hand
over his forehgnd In a vague linstinc
tive physical effort to lift the fog of
horror and despair that was slowly
strangling him.
He felt that he was suffocating. He
tore his collar apart to give himself
room to breathe. He thrust his hand
into the hip pocket of his dress suit
where he usually carried a handker
chief and felt something hard and
cold.
It was a revolver he had been accus
tomed to carry of late in his rounds
through the dangerous quarters of the
city. Without thinking when he
dressed. he had transferred it to hisi
evening suit. llis hand closed over the
ivory handle with a sudden fierce joy.
*Yes, I'll kill him in his magnificent
ballroom. to the strains of his own
musie!” he said, half aloud. *“I'll give
a fit climax to his dance of death and
the worm.”
He quickly descended the stairs and
saw Bivens talking with his wife. He
didn’t wish to kill him in her pres
ence, and as he passed a look of hatred
flashed from the little black eyes of the
millionaire. He made up his mind to
kill him at the moment the dance was
at the highest pitch of gayety.
The music began, and the dancers
once more whirled into the center of
the room and the crowd rill?l the =pice
under the grand arch wh;:.h led iuto
the hall. Bivens was the ¢enter of an
admiring group of sycophants and wor
shipful snobs. The doctor's heart gave
a mad throb of joy. His hour bhad
come.
With quick strides he covered the
space which separated them and with
out a moment’s hesitation thrust his
hand into his breast for his revolver.
Not a muscle or nerve quivered. His
finger touched the trigger softly and
he gave Bivens a look which he meant
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he should take with him into eternity,
when just beyond him he saw Harriet.
SBhe stood motionless with a look of
mute agony on her fair young face.
watching Stuart talk to Bivens' wife.
His finger slipped from the trigger.
and his hand loosed its deadly grip.
“Have I forgotten my baby?" he cried
in sudden anguish. And then another
vision flashed through his excited
brain. A courtroom, a prisoner, his
oewn bowed figure the center of a thou
sand eyes while the jury brought in
their verdict.
His breath came in labored gasps as
one mad thought succeeded another.
“No!” he said hoarsely. *“I must
save her. | must be cunning. I must
succeed—not fail. [ must get what 1
came here for. 1 must save my baby.
My own fate is of no importance. She
is everything.”
Bivens had taken from him by fraud
his formula. destroyed his business and
robbed him of all he posséssed. The
law gave him power to hold-it. He.
too. would appeal tc the same power
and take what belonged to him, No
matter bow, he would take it. and hé
would take it tonight. A
Bivens had boasted that his favors
in jewelry would be worth $25,000.
The doctor turned quickly and began
to search the house until he found the
half drunken servant arranging these
packages under the direction of a sec
retary. These favors had been made
for the occasion by a famous jeweler—
a diamond pin of peculiar design. u
gold death’s head with diamond teeth
and eyes surmounted by a butterfly
and a caterpillar. The stones in each
piece were worth $lOO. They lay on a
table in little open jewel boxes, fifty in
a hox. and each box contained $5.000
worth of gold and precious stones. :
The doctor inspected the boxes with
exclamations of wonder and admira
tion. He bent low over the table for
an instant, and when he left one of the
jewel cases rested securely in his
pocket. ; y
He was amazed at his own skill
and a thrill of fierce triumph filled
his being as he realized that he had
succeeded and that his little girl would
go to Europe and complete her work.
He spoke pleasantly to the secretary
and congratulating bhim on his good
fortune In securing such a master,
turned and strolled leisurely back to
the ballroom.
Not for a moment did he doubt the
safety of his act. He was a chemist
and knew the secret of the laboratory.
He would melt the gold Into a single
bar and sell the diamonds as he need
ed them. His only regret was that he
could not have taken the full amount
he had demanded of the little scoun
drel. He found Harriet and they start
ed at once for home,
“Did you have a good time?"”
“Yes, when 1 could forget the pain
in my heart. You succeeded? It's
all right? I’m going abroad at once
to study?”
The doctor laughed aloud in a burst
of fierce joy.
“Certainly, my dear!”
The tears spranyg into the gentle eyes
as she answered gratefully.
“You can't know how happy you've
made me.”
Bivens, who had heard the doctor’s
laughter, passed and said with exag
gerated courtesy:
“1 trust you have enjoyed the even
ing, Woodman?"*
mThe doctor laughed again in his face.
“More than I can possibly tell you.”
Bivens followed to the door and
watched him slowly walk down the
steps.
CHAPTER XVIL
The Parting of the Ways.
HE two weeks which followed
the Bivens ball were the
| happiest Harriet Woodman
| nad known since Nan's
shadow had fallen across her life.
Every moment was crowded with.the
work of preparing for her trip, except
the hours she could not refuse Stuart.
who had suddenly waked to the fact
that something beautiful was going
out of his life.
Harriet watched him with keen joy
and deep in her heart a secret hope
began to grow slowly.
The day she sailed he refused to go
with her to the pier.
“Why., Jim. you must come with
me!" she protested.
“No, I can’t. little pal. Goodby.”
~ He watched the cab roll down Fourth
street toward the pier while a great
wave of loneliness overwhelmed him.
At night the doctor was not at home.
Stuart rapped on his door next morn
ing and got no answer. The girl said
he had spent the night out—she didn't
know where.
As Stuart was about to leave for his
office the doctor entered. His bloodshot
eyes were sunken deep behind his
brows. his face haggard and his
shoulders drooped. Stuart knew he
had tramped the streets all night in a
stupor of hopeless misery.
Stuart tool: his outstretched hand
and led him into the library. "1
know why you tramped the streets: the
old house is very lonely.” i
*“I never knew what loneliness meant
before!” The big hand fell in a
gesture of despair.
Stuart pressed his hand. :
“] understand. I'm yourger than youi,
doctor, but 1, too, have walked that
way alone. You’'re all in; you must gv
to bed and sleep.”
When Stuart returned early from his
work in the afternoon he found u«
group of forlorn women and children
standing beside the stoop. A pale, elfs
ish looking boy of ten, whose face ap
peared to be five years older, sat on the
lower step crying.
“What’s the matter, kiddie?" he ask
ed kindly.
“I wants de doctor—me mudder's
sick. She’'ll croak before mornin’ ef he
don’t come—dey all wants him.” He
waved his dirty little hand toward t
others. “He ain't come around no more
for a week. The goil says we can’t see
him—he’s asleep.”
“I'll teil him you’re here. The doe
tor's been ill himself.”
He urged the doctor to go at once to
see his patients. The work he loved
would restore his spirits. He was dom
founded at the answer be received.
“No, no! I'm in no mood to work. I
couldn’t help them. I'd poison and kill
them all. feeling as I do today. A phy
sician can’t heal the sick unlass there's
healing in his own soul. I'd bring
death, not life. into their homes. Tell
them to go away:!” -
Stuart emptied his pockets of all the
money he had in a desperate effort to
break their disappointment. :
“The doctor’s too ill to see you now,”
he explained. “‘He sent this money for
you and hopes it will help you over the
worst until he ean come.” :
He divided the money among them,
and they looked at it with dull disap
pointment. They were glad to get it,
but what they needed more than mon
ey was the hope and st( igth of thelr
triend’s presence. ' .
To be continued in-next issue,