Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 149, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 June 1915 — THE ESSENTIAL "E" [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE ESSENTIAL "E"

By WALTER JOSEPH DELANEY.

(Copyright. I*lfi. by W. Q. Chapman ) *1 shall marry Laura Thurston just the same, unde.” "Then take your chances!” cried William Ashe wrathfully. *T cannot hinder you, but I need not help you. and I won’t! The father of that girl baffled me in a big deal. I’re hated the family since." “If you saw Laura you would cease to hate her, at least," declared Bartley Moore softly. "You've got my ultimatum,, young man—l shall disown you." •If that means that you won’t assist me financially or leave me a fortune and that,” spoke Bartley bluntly, •I shan’t complete. If it means the withdrawal of your clear advice and yonr friendship, then, uncle, I shall grieve." - But William Ashe shook his head like a rampant Hon and departed After that, whenever be came to Linden he passed by the neat little nest his nephew had built for Laura and himself with a fierce scowl on his face. He usually went on to the hotel where another nephew, Quy Wadham, put up in good style. Guy pretended to be a real estate broker. In reality he was dependent upon his uncle and his principal occupation was waiting for "that benevolent old relative to turn up his toes.” Regularly twice a year, namely, the first of May and the first of November, on his way to a stock farm further west which he owned, Mr. Ashe stopped over at Linden and stayed about two weeks. Hitherto he had been the guest of Bartley for one week and of Guy for the other. He always entered Into their business plans, left

each a goodly cash present and the event, at least to Bartley, was looked forward to as a very pleasant occasion. Laura looked serious and sad when, the first of May, Just after their marriage, Bartley saw his uncle pass by his little home in an automobile without even looking at him. Stiff and prim the old man sat up in the rear seat of the machine, his stern angry eyes fixed persistently straight ahead of him. Bartley sighed. He had heard of the ill-timed boasts of Guy that “he had got on the soft Bide of the old money maker,” and Bartley knew that Guy, with his covert sneers to graceless companions concerning his benefactor and his general dissolute career, made him unworthy of the favors Mr. Ashe bestowed upon hiip. Now the second visit of Mr. Ashe was anticipated along the last days of October. Always when the time came around Laura looked sad and worried. “It makes me feel as though I had been a hindrance to your prospects, Bartley," she said. “What! with all this happiness and prosperity surrounding us?” challenged Bartley, proud of wife, garden and his modest salary as an architectural draftsman. “Why, my dear, the world is ours!" At that same moment Guy Wadham was seated in his room at the town hotel. He looked blear-eyed and anxious as he bent over a heap of documents and account books. Guy was recovering from one of his periodical drinking bouts. A letter from his uncle had checked him up short. Mr. Ashe had written from a place called Beacon, saying that he would leave there Tuesday evening and after a brief stop at his home would come on to Linden. Therefore he might pop in on Guy at any moment. What worried Guy was that he might not have time to doctor up his accounts, so as to present the usual plausible showing of profits with which he usually succeeded in “pulling the wool over the eyes of the credulous old fellow!" “He’ll get here before I am in trim for a showdown," muttered Guy. “If lie left Beacon last night, as he wrote, I may expect him here any hour. If he stayed over there. It means twentyfour hours more of a leeway for me.” Guy wired to the hotel at Beacon where he knew his uncle usually put up TnaUng- the inquiry: “Has William tAshe left Beacon t* It was five o’clock in the afternoon when he received the following ne“He died last night" For a few minutes Guy Wadham -

wss shocked. He knew his uncle had not been In very good health for several years. This, however, was dreadfully sudden. Selfish, heartless gg he was, Guy was stunned mentally. Then he rushed down to the case of the hotel. He had refrained from drink since morning, so that should his uncle arrive unexpectedly he would not trace any sign of lkjuor. Now all care went to the winds. Of course he must go at ones to Beacon. However, no train left until seven o'clock the next morning. Aa he "fired up," a spirit of exultation possessed him. He knew that Mr. Ashe had named him in his will as a chief beneficiary- Hussa for opulence—goodby to twisting and turning to pay his debts! ?ilf seas over, Guy phoned half a n of his choicest friends. Birds feather, they speedily flocked together. "Well have one grand Jubilee,” declared Guy. “In a day or two, fellows, HI he back here with the overflowing money bags of that accommodating old fossil uncle of mine, who kicked the bucket Just at the right moment to lift me out of my money trouble ** "Good for the old codger!” roared a strident chorus and Guy joined in the toast. * Just as their Jollity was at its highest, a man poked his head in past the half-open door, unpercelved. He saw and listened, appalled. His aged face grew abashed, stern, and then furious. He left the corridor and then the hotel. • Bartley Moore and his wife were just locking up the house when there came a ring at thA door bell. As they reached the threshold a quaver* ing voice articulated: "Don’t you know me, Bartley?" “Why, it’s Uncle William!” exclaimed his nephew. “Come in. come in.” Mr. Ashe staggered into the cosy parlor and sank to a chair apparently exhausted. “Give me time,” he panted. ‘Tm crushed! That Guy!” and amid anger and indignation he gave to Bartley an intelligible clue to the situation. “This Is—Laura,” said Bartley. Uncle William arose and extended a trembling hand. His eyes fell upon that fair face and he put out both hands —pleadingly, brokenly. “I’ve come to find friends,” he said. “Am I welcome?” She kissed him in reply. She comforted him amid his troubles. Not a word against Guy Wadham —concerning him Mr. Ashe knew all. Two days of quiet peace and harmony, a stern arraignment of the ingrate Guy, who now realised that the telegram had read “died” Instead of “did.” Uncle William settled down for life with the fond and loyal friends he had so misjudged.

HE Looked Blear-Eyed and Anxious.