Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 273, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 November 1913 — BREAD UPON THE WATERS [ARTICLE]

BREAD UPON THE WATERS

No sound was heard in the room, but the man’s quickened breath, as he read the letter written in a delicate feminine hand. Duncan Halstead looked from the paper to the strong, benevolent face of the president. He attempted to apeak, but a constriction of his throat out off the words. For a time the two men regarded each other In silence; then recovering from his emotion Halstead spoke: —- “I have no words with which to thank you. The men are few who are willing to trust an ex-convict.’’ “One mistake should not be allowed to spoil a man’s life,” the president said kindly. * . “I wish there were more people who thought so. I came out four months ago—got 18 off for good behavior — and since then, until to-night, I have not found one man who would trust me. “It is easier to believe In your repentance than to believe it, possible that your mother’s son could ever be a convict,” Halstead met the president’s eyes unflinchingly. “Do you know what it means to see your mother dying when her life could be saved for a few paltry hundred dollars? I knew H was a criminal offence to misappropriate the funds of the Worthington Trust Company, but God knows bow sorely I was tempted,!’ —— “You took the money to save your mother’s life, when she would have preferred death to dishonor.” The president pronounced each word Impressively. Though Halstead winced „at the tone, his glance never wavered. “That is why you made no defence,** the president continued, “but your mother knows now. When did you tell her?” “I have never told her,” quickly denied Halstead. “She thinks that the money which paid her expenses at the sanitarium was hired from herpunclo. All knowledge of the affair was kept from her until she recovered.” “What does she think you took the money for?” “I don’t know.” Halstead hesitated, then he went on slowly. “Sometimes I fear she thinks I did It from viciousness." The president reached for the letter. Folding It so only these words were visible, he passed the letter to Halstead: “Years ago you promised that If it were ever in your power to prove your gratitude to me you would do so. Tonight I claim the fulfilment of that promise. "You are familiar with the story of Duncan Halstead, but did you know that his mother was once Pauline Hall, or that Duncan stole the money to save her from a slow, painful death?” Halstead read no farther. He bowed his head on his hands, while tears slipped unchecked down his cheeks. Anger, remorse, humiliation were overshadowed by the knowledge that his mother knew. It was several minutes before Duncan realized that the president was talking. As he lifted bis head, the president continued in the slow, even tones of the narrator. “I was a ragged, dirty boy, not wholly depraved for my intense love for beauty saved me from that, when your mother came on a visit to our town. One she was going by our house when my step-mother, an ignorant, Indolent, higj/tempered woman, punished me severely for some trifling offence. My screams as Iran from the house attracted your mother’s attention.

"Though more than 30 yeara have passed since then, I have never forgotten the picture she made, standing there in her thin summer dress, her hands filled with flowers, and such a compassionate expression on her sweet, lovely face. She soothed my grief with tender w’ords, and when she saw me touch her flowers, with oar easing fingers, she placed them in my hand. "My new friend shrank neither from my rags nor my dirty, tearstained face, but taking me in her arms, she pressed warm, clinging hisses on my lips. These kisses completely won my heart, ae my appeal had won hers. When, in a few days, the returned home, notwithstanding the teasing of her friends at the conquest she had made, she secured my father'B permission and I went with her. "Through her Influence I was tdopted by a wealthy man, who, soon after, went abroad frith his family for several years. When I returned, 18 years ago, was the last time I ever saw your mother. "I came here about the time of your trouble, but until ho-nlght I never received the faintest intimation that the Mrs. Halstead of this town was the woman whom I knew, years tgo, in Montana. "The debt I owe to your mother I can never repay, but while we both live your'lnterest shall never cease to be mine.” As the president concluded, his bend rested on Halstead’s shoulder like a benediction. With a heart full if thankfulness, Duncan quoted softly; " ’Cast your bread upon, the waiter, And as sure an God is true, In this life, or in the other Tt will yet return to you.’ "Yea, and even unto their children’s children the promise shell not fialL"— Grace Capfe