Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 175, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 July 1915 — A JOINT AGREEMENT [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A JOINT AGREEMENT

By VICTOR RADCLIFFE.

"So this is the status of the case?” spoke Rodney Blair. "Precisely," responded Rufus Wells briefly. 3 The young man's face was drawn and clouded. He fumbled with his watch chain holding the latest, most expensive watch money could buy. He glanced down at the four-carat diamond ring on his finger and the same look took in the rich texture of his fashionable apparel. “Let me think," he said in a lost, dreamy tone. "Let me think. And I can’t make it up!” he exclaimed with suddenness. "W’hat do you mean by ‘make it up’?” inquired the practical keen-eyed attorney. “Why, I’ve spent rfioney that didn't belong to me, haven't 1? The little estate that should have gone to this poor half orphan girl, Eunice Ball, has been half squandered by me. How do you think I feel—why. I’m a thief, that's what 1 am!” "I know you are an idiot to take this trifling incident this way!’’ retorted the lawyer raspingly. “Trifling! incident!” fairly shouted Rodney, starting up with animation, “why, it’s the very life of that poor creature! See here, I have learned positively that my half uncle, James Ross, led this Miss Lucy Wilson and her helpless, aged mothe*- to believe that they were to inherit his wealth. “Which he left to you. exactly,” nodded Wells —legally. “He evidently changed his mind. You got the ten thousand dollars. It's yours yet—what is left of it.” “Yes,” persisted Rodney, “but I have found out that these Wilson people are very poor. The father is entirely

unable to work. The girl is a school teacher, but lost her position two months ago and they are in almost abject poverty. Among the papers of my uncle a codicil to his will was found leaving his estate to Miss Wilson.’’ “But unsigned,” reminded the lawyer. “Yes, that is true.” “And therefore worthless. Don't be a fool, Blair! You are legal heir to the Ross estate. No one can take it away from you.” “No, I'm going to give it away of my own free will,” announced Rodney determinedly. “That’s why I’ve come to you. I want you to sell all the furniture in my bachelor quarters, all the gewgaws I have squandered money on —my automobile, the bonds you bought for me. Take what you can get, only do it quickly. Then I will add what I have in bank and give what is left of the estate to its rightful owner.” Lawyer Wells made a face as though swallowing a bitter pill. “The most extraordinary young man and the biggest fool I ever met,” he soliloquized, as Rodney left the office after placing his diamond ring, watch and some papers of value upon the desk. Rodney Blair was in earnest. Two months previous he had been unexpectedly lifted from a small paying clerkship to what was to him positive affluence. His uncle had left him ten thousand dollars in cash. There was not the trace of an evil streak in his easy-going, harmless nature, but Rodney went mad with delight. He had never had more than a few dollars ahead in all his life and now he imagined himself a Croesus. He furnished up a flat, he hired a servant, he purchased an automobile, he fitted out with an elegant wardrobe. He became the envy of all the youths of the town. There were no champagne suppers nor reckless rioting. Rodney simply spent his money. He distributed generous among needy friends, he gave expensive luncheons and trips to near summer resorts. Quite incidentally had he learned of the existence of the Wilsons and the circumstances surrounding the estate. The result has been shown. He was quick in his convictions, speedy to act. Two days later Rodney took the train for Mayville, the little town where the Wilsons lived. Inquiry he made upon his arrival emphasized his first information that the Wilsons were very poor and very worthy. He saw a local attorney through whom Wells was to transmit the odd six thousand dollars that was left of the legacy. Then he located the home of the Wilsons. It was a wretchedly old and rickety cottage at the edge of the town, but U had clean curtains, its little porch ■ - - 7* '• .

floor was white sad untracked, the flowers about well trained and trimmed. A young girl who moved his fancy mightily sat on the steps reading to a patient-faced old man. A joyous light shone in the eyes of Rodney Blair. What happiness and comfort was he bringing to thdse two unfortunates! It was well worth the sacrifice to see them lifted from hard grinding poverty to a competence. The twain did not see Rodney as he approached. The fair girl concluded her reading and snuggled up affectionately to her father. “I can’t think of anything but our rare good fortune.” Rodney heard her say in a hopeful, happy voice. “Think of it, dear father-twenty dollars a month and board for both of us at the new school post! Oh, how grateful we should be! Life looks all sunshine and roses!” Twenty dollars a month and serenely happy over it! Rodney stole from the spot. What deserving people! What radiant fatth and contentment! Ah, more than ever must he lift those two to their rightful position! He returned to Leighton and the money was sent to the lawyer at Mayville with a full explanation. There came a wire from him the next day: “Miss Wilson refuses to take the money from its rightful owner.” Two words only Rodney telegraphed back: “She must.” Then he tried to forget his brief experience in “The Life.” He succeeded, except for a memory of the sweet, glowing face of the beautiful girl he had seen at Mayville. He secured cheap board, he looked for work. His did position was filled. The only Job he could find was digging a drainage ditch for a farmer at the edge of the village. To digging, honestly and industriously Rodney applied himself. He was whistling cheerily two days later, when, four feet down in the excavation, he looked up in surprise, and dazzling at the Bilvery-toned query: “This is Mr. Blair, I believe?” It was the girl of his dreams. He blushed, he bowed, and looked embarrassed. “I have brought you back your money,” she spoke definitely. “We have*no right to it, but—never, will we forget the kindliness, the most unselfish act that has blessed our lives! There it is.” He put hands steadfastly behind him. “I won’t take it,” he declared, gaining poise now. “Don’t you dare throw it down to me, or I’ll cover it up with the dirt and nobody will get it. Why, that one stolen 6ight I had of you and that dear old father of yours—” “Where? when?” inquired Miss Wilson wonderingly. He did not tell. Amid his new embarrassment Rodney proposed that they go and have a talk with Wells. The latter suggested a division. This Rodney staunchly refused to confirm. Then, in a whisper aside, with a sly wink, the lawyer submitted: “Then make some joint agreement,” and Rodney got a new thought. It was so precious a thought, that it grew into deferring a settlement until he had to go several times to Mayville for a “consultation.” The “joint agreement” materialized, for the last time he left that little village Lucy was his promised wife. (Copyright, 1915, by W. G. Chapman.)

“The Biggest Fool I Ever Met,” He Soliloquized.