Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 40, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 February 1917 — Whitbeck’s Dilemma [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Whitbeck’s Dilemma

By ALICE E. IVES

(Copyright, 1917, by "W. G. Chapman.) Whitbeck had just experienced two shocks. He sat back in his office a trifle- paralyzed from the effects, and endeavored to'caSlect himself in order to meet the situation. Mary Warren, his stenographer, .the most reliable, painstaking and capable one he had ever had was not at her post. Instead he found a letter mailed the night before, in which she regretted she had —tn Wye at sfteh short nor uce, but she had unexpectedly been called out of town, and would he engage someone else as she might not re'turn. He looked at the pile of unopened letters to which she had been wont to attend with such businesslike dispatch, and sighed. Then he found that he was thinking of the pretty brown head of shining hair, the white neck, and neat blouse that were always bent over those letters. In fact all the correspondence on that, desk seemed to have faded into nothingness in comparison to the awful void left by the vanished figure who" had sat there. Somehow her presence-had lifted the office out of the sordid commonplace into which it now relapsed. It w‘as at this point that Whitbeck experienced his second shock Why was he letting such thoughts take possession of him unless —great heavens! He had never suspected it!, But it was true! He loved her! He wanted her 1. He was going to bring her back if he could. He set the telephone going; but no one at the rooming house where she had lived knevtt where she had gone. She had left nd address; Whitbeck remembered Miss Warren had a brother in New York. But that was like looking for the proverbial needle in a hay mow. Neverftieless he tried inserting “personals” in the metropolitan papers, which met with no response. Then Whitbeck set to

teripusly disappeared. No matter how lie fought against it, he had finally to force himself -to* believe there must have been a man in the case, one whom she loved, or held over her some power which she could not resist. It was either that or—but that she had gone any evil way was unthinkable. Gradually he was effacing her from his mind. The new stenographer’s - slight _ attempts at being flirtatious Were frowned upon, and J. P. Whitbeck, attorney, attended strictly to business. One day in the Grand Central station in New York, where be had just left his train, he set down his valise in a crowd near a news stand, while he bought a paper. Hurriedly picking up the valise he rushed through the jostling crowd to catch a subway train to Brooklyn. He had business there which would keep him several days, and after settling himself in his hotel, he took out a key to open his valise. The key did not fit. Horrors I It was not his valise ! He had picked up the wrong baggage in the station. He at •once telephoned the “lost and found” department the “information bureau” and everything of which he could think, to restore the property, and get on the track of his own. Nothing coming of this he called in a locksmith to fita key to the lock, concluding there might be something in the contents that wmuld lead to finding the owner. Some old clothes packed around two suspicious-looking boxes and some papers were inside. Whitbeck set the boxes carefully aside. They might contain bombs, and he didn't care to investigate. He began to examine the papers. They' were mostly letters, all typewritten, and signed F. B. They seemed trivial, almost nonsensical till it'dawned on Whitbeck they were undoubtedly in cipher, whereat he gave the two boxes Tt still winter berth. nothing In the shape of an address, and Whitbeck considerably nonplussed, ahd feeling that he had unwittingly become a factor in an anarchist plot, concluded to consult the police. * * He went down to get some informa-

tion from the hotel clerk. , When hfc ’ heard around an angle of the desk a‘ woman Speaking. “Is there anyone here by the name of Whitley?” she askeA The clerk assured her there was no such name on the register. - “Why that is strange,” she persisted. “They said at the station that was the name given over the telephone.” “People don’t always speak plainly over the ’phone,” laughed the clerk. Whitbeck wheeled, and faced the girl.' It was Mary Warren! She gasped, caught at the desk, and her face went white. The clerk stared from one to the other. “It was a mistake in the name, Miss Warren. I presume you came about the lost valise?” Whitbeck said Fnjffie most matter of fact way in order to shield the girl. “I did surprise you, didn’tl?” ~ 7— a--She stammered out that he had, and allowed herself to be led into a secluded corner of a reception room. He looked at .her question!ngly, but she did no# speak. The terror in her eyes was that of an animal at bay.

Finally he said: “Does that valise belong to you?” “What difference does that make?” she asked. “Just give it to me.” “Not till you answer me.” “It is not mine.” “It belongs to some man,” he ventured. A coward who lets you come in his place.” “No! not a-coward!” she blazed out. “I made him let me come. You have opened it!” “Yes. Who is he?” “I won’t tell. Now do with, me what you like.” “I don’t mean to do anything unless you make me. But you must confide in me. I only want to help you.” Something in his tone swept .away the barriers, and she told him her story. While in his office she became aware that a man w’hose welfare' was very dear to her had become involved in something dangerods. She went at once to him to try to dissuade him from it. But she found him too deeply involved to listen to her persuasions. —— —■—

“You see,” she said, “he had been a long time out of work. He became very bitter against the existing state of things. He. believes that something better must come for the working man, or the whole social fabric will be shattered by an awful war.” L “It is trite,something bottermust come. Both labor and capital must be enlightened. But the bomb is not the way. 1 *" 'V". ' —— “No,” she agreed. “But can you make these poor creatures believe it?” “Will you let me talk to him?” he asked. “Will you promise not to—” He broke in -on her appeal. “Haven’t I already promised? Take me to him. I will get the valise.” “No! no!” she protested. “I must first find out if he will see you. I will call you up at seven and tell you.” And not waiting for further-words she rose and left the place. Whitbeck was torn with conflicting emotions. He was about to try to save the man she loved, no doubt a creature in no way worthy of such a woman. When the time drew near he stayed in his room, watching for the ring of the telephone, but the minutes ticked on till eight o’clock was passed. He gave a start when it rang. She had not been able till then to persuade hrm to let Whitbeck come. She would meet ..lum._a.t_.the uptownside of the Fulton, street subway station, at nine o’clock. True to her word she was there when Whitbeck appeared with the . valise. She took hlnL Soverat 'bTocks away to

mh ulii house, and 1 lettimr herself in with a latch-key, they were soon in a room at the back. A young man with a set defiant face met them. “If you’ve confe to preach to me,” he said, “it’s no use.” “I’ve not come for that I want to help you. Prove me." I mean it.” “Mary said you were that kind. She’s a good sister, and —’’ “Sister 1” broke in Whitbeck. “Yes, she was afraid to tell you, because —” Whitbeck was too excited to listen. Being so excited it is not easy to chronicle how he asked her to be bis wife, how she consented, and how the brother-in-law became quite as valuable in the office as she had been.

They Were Mostly Letters