Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 118, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 May 1915 — DISINHERITED SON WHO MADE GOOD [ARTICLE]

DISINHERITED SON WHO MADE GOOD

How John Leinster Redeemed Himself When Shame Drove Him. BECKY HELPED A LOT, TOO Little Freckled Stenographer Saved the Day With Wax Candlee and Cleverness—Tall Irishman Became Prominent in Advertising World.

By OSBORN MARSHALL.

(Copyright, 1915. by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) One cold night seven winters ago, a thin, very tall Irishman was passing the night In the f(ew York subway. He had been walking the streets during the day and at night for. the price of a ticket he inhabited the subway. It was sheltered there and if he kept moving from one station to another there was no danger of having people ask him troublesome questions. Clearly he was one of the city’s down and outers, but he hadn’t the slightest ambition to join the ranks of the preferably unemployed. On this particular night John Leinster, the tall, thin Irishman in question, had made up his mind to njake good or perish in the attempt The incentive was a letter he had just received from home. It was a notification that his father had been knighted by the English king and had refused the higher honor of becoming a baronet which was held out to him because that distinction was hereditary and John Leinster, Sr., had been unwilling to discredit the British aristocracy by handing down a baronetcy to such a son. John Leinster, Jr., paled with shame and rage as he read this disquieting letter. He was a respecter of rank in spite of his hail-fellow-well-met manners and his shabby clothes. The sting that came with this letter was keener than the drafts that blew into his subway refuge. John Leinster was past thirty. He had begun life as the only son of an indulgent father. He had been expelled from the university, had tried his hand at business in Dublin, then had drifted, about in India and Africa and had now landed discouraged and friendless in New York. That Was the Turning Point. But that night, as he re-read the letter from his father, he made up 'his mind to make good. He had had some experience in the advertising end of one of his father’s mercantile enterprises in Ireland, and so he determined to be an advertising man. He,could already picture to himself the subway filled with the clever copy of his advertisements.

That last night in the subway was the turning point. Somehow John Leinster made shift to get a little office and a few pieces of furniture and to put out his sign as an advertising man. For stenographer, office boy, telephone operator, bookkeeper and general factotum there was Beckyneat, freckled, red-haired, East side Becky, who came straight from business school for six dollars a week. But things didn’t run along as smoothly as John Leinster wished. First the telephone was cut off for non-payment of fees and when Becky’s salary could no longer be scraped together Johif had to close the office. Becky got a job somewhere else —in another advertising office. When they parted Leinster advised her to learn all she could about advertising methods, and he got a job elsewhere as a shipping clerk. In that position he made enough to keep up the rent of the office, so that he could have an address at which to receive letters concerning a mail order scheme that brought in about twenty dollars a month. His creditors were insistent, and it was for that reason that the door of the office never opened during business hours. Of course Leinster intended to pay sometime but he cbiild not face his creditors with an empty , purse. Therefore in the darkness of every night, Leinster would steal into the office and a few minutes later Becky would join him, and together they would carry on what little business there was to be done. Becky was engaged to be married to a yonng East side lawyer, and after she and her impecunious employer attended to the mall and talked over the prospects of business, Becky would meet her fiance, who would escort her home to the East side, and John would climb to his little top story room to dream dreams of his advertising contracts. Becky Wgs Faithful. Of course there wasn’t a cent in it for Becky at the time, and she was shrewd enough to know that the chaiices were against Leinster. But then the cultured Irishman corrected her FingHfih, taught her French expressions, and gave her the advantage of his wide trakel and experience. As Becky’s fiance told her, it was better than night school, and he advised her to profit by it. As the winter waned and spring advanced, matters got worse with Leinster. He lost his job after a few weeks’ illness and this ' meant further curtailing of expenses. <So he gave up his top story room and managed somehow to live in his office. Still the neat little, freckled Becky was faithful. She made her appear«nce every noon and every evenlag

after work and together they did enough with the mail order work to pay the rent > One night when Becky arived at Leinster’s door there was no one to let her in. Thgt was strange, thought Becky, recalling that he always got there ahead of her. However she waited. Just as she was about to go the tall, lank figure of Leinster, pale and breathless, advanced down the hall. Becky’s interest and curiosity held her spellbound. It had happened, perhaps, that one of his creditors had served papers, or his father, who, in Becky’s opinion, must be at least a duke, had further disowned him. “Open the door, Becky,” said Leinster, handing her the keys. “I am almost fainting.” The Irish man fell into a brogue when he was excited, and it was positively dominant now. Big Contract In Sight. "I have landed a big contract,” he went on, “a contract for five thousand dollars worth of advertising. It is what I have dreamed of. I got a chance to talk to one of those big corporation manufacturers today. I’ve been hanging around the place for weeks and at last they let me talk and I showed them that I knew advertising, that I did straight thinking and that I knew human nature, and they agreed to sign the contract. They are coming here tonight to sign. Oo get your dinner and come back as soon as you can. And, Becky, remember this is only my ofllce. I am staying at the—the Waldorf, if they ask.” Becky had planned to go to the opera, second gallery, that night with her fiance, but it was easy to explain. His mentality was of the variety that would be convinced by the mention'of a five thousand dollar contract even though there was nothing in it for him. When Becky got back from her hasty dinner she found Leinster in darkness and dejection. “It is all up,’’ he said. “The electricity is turned off. It was only two months overdue. Becky, when the men come, tell them I am dead or dying. It is always some little detail like this that balks me in the moment of triumph.” Becky’s mind was working at actualities rather than on the general prop-

osftion of the elusiveness of fortune. "I will get candles,” she said, “and then I will explain.’’ Before Leinster knew it she had gone and was back again with some wax candles bought with her own money. "I have settled it,” said Becky with a tone cf finality as she placed the candles neatly in an empty ink well. "You must sa; nothing about it and before you come in I will explain.” Leinster knew that when Becky spoke thus she was inspired, and he trusted her. When the men arrived he had withdrawn from the room and Becky was typing furiously by the light of the few candles.

How She Saved the Day. "Mr. Leinster will be in at once, gentlemen,” she said showing them the chairs. Then she lowered her voice. "Gentlemen,” she said, "There is one curious thing about Mr. Leinster. He is afraid —not afraid, but depressed—by electric storms. Say nothing about the candles. He cannot endure the electric lights when a storm is in the air.” Neither of the visitors recalled that a storm was rising when he came in, but it was late spring and it was not impossible. But they were Impressed with the air of deference with which Becky spoke of her employer. In a mofcent more the gaunt, tall and lmprqpsive figure of John Leinster appeared and the business talk began. That night after it was all over and Leinster had the papers in his possession which were to put him on his feet and give him a chance, Becky went home to dream of the Interest that wonld accrue on five thousand dollars. The following noon, when she arrived at Leinster’s apartment office, she was Impatient to hear his plans. “Of course,” she-began in her best business tone, "it will first pay off the creditors and then — “And then,” Interrupted Leinster, “Becky, there isn’t going to be any 'and then.* I’ve just signed a lease for a suite in a downtown, office building at two hundred dollars a month, and I now ask yon to go out and order the

best glass-top mahogany office table you can get There will be green rugs, too, Becky. You are dreaming of interest, Becky? Why, that five thousand will just pay running expenses for the first few months.” This happened five years ago. Since that time John Leinster has become ■one of the most prominent men in the advertising world. He is advertising counsel to two or three of the largest manufacturing plants around New York city, and his cleverness is of wide repute. But Becky, little redhaired Becky, is no part in it She is living over in'the Williamsburg district somewhere, keeping house for her husband, the young lawyer, and she never dreams that had it not been for her faithfulness, John 'Leinster might still be a down and outer.