Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 155, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 July 1914 — BROADWAY JONES [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

BROADWAY JONES

by EDWARD MARSHALL

WITH PHOTOGRAPHS TOKENES IN THE PLAY /SCf, 0T GHLINUJH&Wf co

FROM TAE PLAY CT GEORGE M.COfIAN

1> SYNOPBIB. ■ j~" Jackson Jones, nicknamed “Broadway” because of his continual glorification of New York's great thoroughfare, te anxious to get away , from hla home town of Jonesville. Abner. Jones, his uncle, is very angry because Broadway refuses to Settle down and take a place in .the gum factory in which he succeeded ' to his father's interest. Judge Spotswood informs Broadway that $250,000 left him by his father is at his disposal. Broadway makes record time in heading for his favorite street in New York. With his New York friend. Robert Wallace, Broadway creates a sensation by his extravagance on the White Way. Four years ■ass and Broadway suddenly discovers that he is not only broke, but heavily in debt He quietly seeks work without success. Broadway becomes engaged to Mrs. Gerard, an ancient widow, wealthy and Very giddy. Wallace learns that Broadway is broke and offers him a position with his father’s advertising flrm.but ft is declined. Wallace takes charge of Broadway’s affairs. Broadway receives a telegram announcing the death Of his Uncle Abner in Europe. Broadway is his ■ole heir. Peter Pembroke of the Consolidated Chewing Gum company offers Broadway $1,200,000 for his gum plant and Broadway agrees to sell. Wallace takes the affair in hand and insists' that Broadway hold off for a bigger price and rushes him to Jonesville to consult Judge Spotswood. Broadway finds his boyhood playmate, Josie Richards, in charge of the plant and falls in love with’ her. Wallace Is smitten with Judge Spotswood’s daughter, Clara. Josie points out to Broadway that by selling the plant to the trust he will ruin the town built by his ancestors and throw 700 employes Out of work. Broadway decides that he will not sell. Broadway visits the plant and Josie explains the business details to him. CHAPTER X.—Continued. "Oh, don’t be afraid,” he assured her. "I meant exactly what I said' to Higgins.” She ( sighed with real relief. •“I don’t mind telling you, Miss Rich ards, that when I came here yesterday my intention was to sell this business and get it off my hands at any price or sacrifice.” , The mere statement of this evidently past and gone Intention was a shock to her. He noted, and not without emotion —mind that: Broadway unmistakably was touched—that her face blanched at the thought of that which he had definitely decided not to do. The young man was beginning to think; he was forming some faint realisation of the fact that his own troubles were bnt somewhat unimportant bubbles in a sea made up of everybody’s troubles. The thought was forming in his mind that, while he had been severely worried about ways and means for getting luxuries, these people, here in Jonesville, who had lived and probably .would die without ever having heard the names of many of the things his sybaritic soul had learned to crave, had felt themselves confronted by the possibility of loss of the necessities. Indefinitely, but for ths first time in his life at all, he saw how grim the struggle for a bare existence is with the majority; how, although they strain and strive to their limit of ability, they never feel quite safe In their possession of the means for getting it He acknowledged to himself a feeling of embarrassment as he considered the undeniable selfishness of his previous existence. But he brightened visibly, as he Went om He had learned his lesson and had'learned It thoroughly. “Carnegie couldn’t buy the plant this morning," he said simply, "if he offered every dollar he has in the world.

Mr. Wallace and I sat up talking it over until two o’clock thia morning. I told him everything yon said, and went over the whole situation with him. I promised to take his advice, and he’s convinced me that the right thing to do la to stick right here and put up a light for these people, the same as my uncle did?* * Her reserve quite vanished; as is the way of women, she took credit for an intuition which her previous manner had not indicated. Where she had been suspicious of a reason for suspicion, she became enthusiastic over reason for enthusiasm. "I knew you would!** she cried. *1 knew—l knew you would!** She had not known he would; she had feared, bad half believed that he would not; but that now made not the slightest difference with her firm be-

lief that she had known he would. Nor had the fact that Broadway, a short minute before, had suspected, with good reason, that she seriously doubted him, any Influence whatever on his deep pleasure when he discovered that she did not —did not because she could not, not because she would not. Men do not think clear to the bottom of these things. They take what women give them, when they give them anything, and are humbly grateful and surprised because they get a smile when they deserve one, rather than a brick when they do not deserve one. Nothing which the world has ever offered to the gaze of the philosopher has been one-half so pitiful as the astonished gratitude of the right-minded male when he finds that the one female for whom he has begun, consciously or without his knowledge, to live his life and do his deeds, does not utterly condemn him when he has done his level best and that best has been worthy. Men are the world’s natural "come-ons," women the world’s natural vendors of psychological, sentimental and often very raw gold bricks.

So when Josie soulfully declared that she had known he would, Broadway did not let it pass z with an unappreciative, "Of course you did,” but looked at her with gratitude alight in his pleased face and humbly queried, “Did you?” For a moment th*e fact that she declared that she had known he would be decent and not villainously selfish so completely overwhelmed him (and please do not forget that she, within a minute, had admitted that she thought him capable of basest selfishness) that he could not find words with which to proceed conversationally. All men are that.way. --- - ; ' .. ..

But presently he recovered self-pos-session and continued: "Now, I don’t know anything about business, and I don't know anything about money. I never did a day’s work in my life for the simple reason that I never had to.” He looked at her with «a shamed smile, the first evidence that he had ever shown of anything but pride in his ability to live idly with enormous and successful effort.

"The only trial of skill into which I have entered since I went from Jonesville to New York has been a general, endless contest with the world at large to see which could stay up the latest. I have generally won —won in a walk.” She was listening intently. All women are intent to breathlessness when they are hearing any man tell his unworthiness; if there is a hint of a confession of real wickedness in his declaration they will listen with an absorption which approaches a hypnotic trance. '

*Tve never done anything good, because I've never had anything good to do,” Broadway went on, before he reached the next full stop. She sat absolutely spellbound. Did she feel a vivid hope that he would go Into detail of the things which he had done which were not good? Such recitalsalways pain good women exquisitely, yet they never shun them, never interrupt them—never, by the way, forget them or fail to have them at their tongues* ends afterwards, when, by recalling them, they can abash the man who in a moment of unguarded foolishness has made them. But Broadway told no details of his villainies. This was not brilliance on his part; it was sheer luck.

If she was definitely disappointed her distress was more or less alleviated the next moment, for he burst forth somewhat wildly: “What I’ve needed all along was an Incentive —something to spur me on—something to inspire me. What I’ve needed was —”

He could not complete the sentence. It was as if his tongue had found an Insurmountable obstruction in the groove of language which it had begun to follow and had to leap out to a side groove. An expression of disgust grew on his face. He hesitated, flushed, then reached his hand into his pocket and drew forth the paper on which he had labored with such assiduity and such a tensely Working, cheek manipulating tongue in the small hours that morning. *

"What I’ve needed was”—he once more said, in desperate endeavor to remember what came next, and, finding it impossible to continue with his recitation, looked at her wild eyed, disappointed, self-disgust writ plain upon his face, and dropped his hands in helpless and disorganised fashion to his sides. "Can you beat that?” he demanded 6f the fascinated girl. "I knew that thing by heart when I left the hotel.” Almost, angrily he thrust the paper into her receptive hands. “It took me hours to write that!” he earnestly declared. "Hours full of mos-quito-bites! I’ got up early, too, and learned the thing by heart But 1 might have known that I’d forget it! I never could remember anything.”, 2 She took the pap’er, glanced at it with highly kindled interest and was on the point of reading it when there came an interruption. It was Sammy. There ever is a Sammy ready to step in and spoil big moments in our lives. "Are—you—too— busy —for— company F’ he asked deliberately and ir-

reverently. The imp, though fat, was quite cognizant of the fact that he had come at the wrong moment, and his heart was filled with joy because he felt so certain of it “Who is it, Sammy?” “Ma —and—Clara.” Josie sighed, then looked at Broadway with an inquiry upon her face. He nodded. She thrust the paper he had given her into the top drawer of her desk. “All right, Sammy; tell them to come in.” With a gravity like that of the sphinx, but with a glint of malice satisfied in his small eyes, the fat boy ambled heavily to the door. With a voice as disproportionate to his years as were his calves, he cried invitation to his mother and his sister. It was a| if they waited on the other side of a wide stream and he was battling a howling tempest with his tones. His "All right, mom, come on in,” rasped Broadway’s nerves; the fact that he had failed in the delivery of the brief

eloquence which had been fruit of midnight and past-midnight oil at the unspeakable Grand, a certain feeling (such as all of us have had) that he was doing worthily while getting less than proper credit for it. made him hate Sammy at that moment. He/Wondered if he might not throttle him in some deserted spot before the day was over, looked him over careful-ly,-observed the size of his columnar neck, and hopelessly abandoned thought of it His hands would never reach around it! -The visitors appeared.

Whlle attention was distracted from her, in answer to an irresistible impulse, Josie took from the desk drawer the paper Broadway had intrusted to her, and thrust it into a sacred, secret place within her shirtwaist. Mrs. Spotswood, filled with the line excitement of the matron who is certain that romance is working in her neighborhood, was devoured by that modification of the spirit of the chase which sends the ladles, rich or poor, good or bad, upon the scent of such elusive news with all the sest of sportsmen after squirrels or elephants. She was inclined toward worry In regard to Jonesville’s fate and also inclined to confidence in It because she had known Broadway since he was a little boy (ah, what errors have good women made because they have known someone since he was a little boy!) and knew that while he might be "wild" he was not wicked, for his baby curls had been so sweet; pleased beyond expression by the deep impression which her own delicious Clara had made upon Broadway’s affluent, well-mannered, plainly competent friend —animated by these various emotions and not less than twenty others which I have not mentioned. Mrs. Spotswood wore a fluttering smile as she accepted her baby-mastodonic son’s Infant fog-whis-tle invitation.

"Good morning, Josie.” Josie smiled at her, although she had regretted her arrival almost as much as Broadway had. She had so wished to read the words upon the hotel letter paper which her new employer bad spent half the night in writing.

Mrs. Spotswood’s smile expanded till it fairly beamed at Josie before she turned her eyes to Broadway, and then she started with surprise. It was because she had been certain he was there that she had come; a visit from her to the factory was an unheard-of thing; she had distinctly heard his voice as she had passed outside the open door, but now her deep astonishment because he was within the room seemed almost overwhelming. "Oh, hello, Broadway!" He smiled nervously and hurried for ward. Things had not gone as he had wished, but he was not resentful. Never had he been so humble. Had he not, the night before, defaced that paper with the tale of his humility and the details of his good resolves? Besides, had not Mrs. Spotswood guarded him in childhood against wrath at home on more than one occasion, and had she not, the previous evening, with the understanding and good humor of an angel, prepared for him that lemonade which held the magic 'touch for which his system yearned? *Tm awfully glad to see you here In the plant,” she earnestly assured him, and meant every word of it. Then: "Did you have a good night’s sleep?”

Even the question was a nervous shock, but he smiled bravely, although he shuddered slightly as he asked in answer, “How do I look?” “Grand!” she exclaimed. Now his shudder was not slight “Don’t mention the name, please.” “You must come to our house to supper.” . > “Believe me, I shall be glad to get it,” he said fervently. Now her soul paid tribute to that subtle hint of romance which was in the air. "You, too, Josie.” “Oh, thanks, Mrs. Spotswood.” "Is the judge here?”

She knew perfectly well that he was not; she had seen him through the window of his little, one-roomed, peakroofed office building just across the street as she had turned into the graveled, flower-lined path which led to the works’ entrance. “I thought he might be here. We’ve been—er—shopping, and were going by, so I thought I would run in and have a word with him.” Even Mrs. Spotswood did not shop thus early in the morning, save for groceries; moreover,, she did not wear her best black silk dress when she went shopping for her groceries, and the shopping district occupied the region farthest from the works upon the other side of her own home—but these things did not matter. Then, as she saw Broadway’s attention wavering, and that Clara was endeavoring to hold it long enough to ask for Wallace, she turned beamingly to him, although behind the beam there was a genuine anxiety. "Anything new, Broadway?” Clara’s courage had augmented by that time, and she gave him insufficient time to frame an answer, so Mrs. Spotswood went to Josie, and, as Broadway answered questions about Wallace, assuring Clara that he’d be there before long, out of the corner of his eye he could make certain that Josie was explaining things to Mrs. Spotswood. He rather thought and hoped that she was explaining them with real enthusiasm.

Clara was shyly excited over Wallace, and took full advantage of this chance to talk of him with his best friend. The long standing of her friendship for Broadway made her feel at liberty to gossip freely.

“I think Mr. Wallace is an awfully nice fellow,” she said gravely. “Do you really Y’ Broadway smiled at her although he bitterly resented her intrusion on his talk with JosMT "I'll tell him you said that,” he gaily threatened. "He is,” she stated positively. “He ordered ice cream twice last night” A reminiscent hunger came into her eyes. "Bought me a box of chocolates, too.”

“Oh, he doesn’t care what he does with his money.” Broadway’s manner indicated that asking twice for ice cream and the purchase of a box of chocolates represented to his mind the extreme Insanity of spendo-manla. ‘‘Doesn’t he 7” she asked, her tone indicating that delightful horror which unmarried ladies feel at hearing of the exploits of equally unmarried, possibly eligible young men. “No," said Broadway, with the air of one revealing something at once horrible and fascinating, "he spent over twenty-five dollars one night.” His audience was as vividly Impressed as any speaker conld have wished. “He must have just thrown it away!” “Why—” But the mad tale of Wallace’s expenditures was never told. The conversation was at this point interrupted by the sound of cheers in the great workrooms at the back.

Higgins, erratic, demagogic, often vicious tempered, was, when once his championship had been enlisted, an enthusiastic advocate. As he himself had said, his heart was “in the right place,” and that morning, as he went through the plant explaining that the young new owner had decided not to sell out to the trust, but would stand by Joneevllle, Jones' Pepsin gum and those resident in one and employed in manufacture of the other, Broadway lost none of merit through his declamation. In that heart in the right place Higgins had admired 4he way the smallish city man had stood up to his five feet ten of brawn and threatened to throw him out of the building, discharge him from the plant, and drive him from the town if he did not cease threatening a woman. He was sorry he had lost his temper while with Josie. He had rushed through the great, rambling buildings of the old-fashioned manufactory at high speed and high enthusiasm. His manner had been such that his mere appearance had been signal for the stoppage of the wheels of Industry and the gathering of eager groups about him to listen to the news which one could not doubt he bore, and when the nature of that news became known generally, the much-relieved workmen, the workingwomen, and even the basket girls and bundle-boys throughout the plant, became Instantly demonstrative of great Joy.

The first cheer, that which had mercifully Interrupted Clara’s inquisition of Broadway on the subject of his friend, was followed by another and another as the news spread. A gradual cessation of the grinding roar which was apparent, even In the office building, when the plant was operating, showed that here and there and everywhere machines were being stopped by those who wished to leave them so that they might hear the news. The office-building group stood spellbound, listening. None knew what had occurred. They might have Been alarmed had the uproar been less unmistakably enthusiastic. “What is it?" Mrs. Spotswood, asked excitedly. “I don't know," was Josie’s answer. Clara certainly knew nothing of the nature of what might be happening, and none was further than Broadway from a guess that what he had told Higgins, in a sentence wherein anger very freely mingled with the news of his determination to retain and operate the gum plant, could have been accepted as good reason for such a really notable demonstration of the joy of gum makers. It was the judge, at this instant, bustling in, who made the situation clear to them. (TO BE CONTINUED.)

"Can You Beat That?”

“He Spent Over $25 One Night.

CHAPTER XI.