Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 284, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 December 1917 — The Empty House [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Empty House

■ V *l4 Penrod Encounters All Kinds of Hair-Raising Experiences

By BOOTH TARKINGTON

(Copyright. 1917, Wheeler Syndicate, Inc.)

ONE July afternoon, when the world outdoors was empty of everything except hot sunshine, Penrod Schofield, in the sawdust box of his father’s stable, was as silently busy as a diligent young worm in the heart of a nut.. Favoring this comparison, the saw* dust box was naturally almost as dark as the Inside of a nut is believed to be; > but Penrod worked by the light of a lantern, which raised the temperature of the box to a degree that would have frightened a stoker, but subtracted nothing from the fever of composition. Penrod was writing. . , He was writing CHAPITER TENTH of his secret novel, HARold RAMOREZ THE ROAD-AGENT oR WELD LIFE AMONG THE ROCKY MTS. “Soon it was Mr. Wilsons turn to be scared and he started begging to be let off and said it was not his fault and how he had never done anything. Oh no, sneered Harold, you did not do anything to this poor old man Oh no but I guess the time has come now when you will have to be exsposed so just look here a minute I have the papers to prove you committed the f oregy your own self 16 long years ago that this poor old man got put in the penitenatrly for and been 16 long years in a dirty cell with nothing but bread and water and a little rice “Yes said our hero and I have papers that prove he murdered your children and little baby daughter also “I didnt either and you better look but how .you talk said Mr. Wilson and pujered his soul before his Maker No sir cried he it was some irshman that murdered the old man’s* children and little baby daughter also “Soon they atempted to put some hankuffs on Mr. Wilson but he pulled out his ottomatick and reched over Harolds soldher where they were struglling and began shooting away at the old man but Harold reched up and caught hold of his hand with his hand and took the ottomatick away and held him until the old man could get the hankuffs op him. “There sneered the old man when he was all, tied up tight I guess you are in a nice fix now just like the way I used to be for/U6 long years. Ha Ha Ho do you like it and went on tanting him with his hepless condition Yes sneered the old man I think you are one of the worst people I ever knew in my whole life ahd I am going to tell that you were the real foger that put everything off on me and then he got so mad he began steping on Mr. Wilson where he was lying on the floor “Soon Mr. Wilson started crying at this and our hero and the old man tanted him some more for a wile then went on out with a smile. Mr. Wilson quit crying because it did not hurt any more where the old man had kept steping on' him and soon managed to shake off his bonds with his teeth You Harold Ramorez sneered he now I will hunt you down like dog and he hunted around until he found his whistle on the floor some where and soon sumoned his detectives again and began revlln them you are nice ones you are sneered he leaving me here alone with those two men it was Harold Ramorez and he has turned the old man lose and we will have to hurry up or we will probly not catch them I wonder where they have gone “I bet I know said the detectives he has gone to his lair on the steepest clift in the Rocky Mts and takin the ■ old man with him we can easly catch up with them because it is dark outside and probly it is going to rain too so after talking some more they soon went on out and started after our hero and the old man “Soon a storm came up and Mr. Wilson and the detectives got close on the trail of the fugitives in the storm because they could see them by the light of the flashes of lightning first would come a flash of lightning and then would come some thunder. “CHAPITER EVELENTH “This kept up for a long wile for it was a terrible night and the lighting would scared anybody it kept lighting and thundering all the time and the old man could not run fast and Mr. Wilson and the detectives would shoot at them by the light of the lighting and the lighting would strike rocks that would fall off the Clifts and almost hit them and the wind blowing trees down too and it got frezlng cold and the old man got hit with one of the rocks and broke his leg so our hero had to carry him on his back.and more rocks began falling because an earthquake had started now besides the lighting and thunder and pur hero could not find his way among the cllfts and then it started raining too "Bing bing went the ottomatick bullets blng blng bing bing bing bing bing blng blng Oh cried the old man I am wonded again and probly I will die unless we can find some place to get uns der < Blng Blng Blng blng Bing blng Mr. Wilson and the detectives kept on blng blng bing bing blng blng blng blng blng Oh cried the old 'man because Mr. Wilson, and the detectives got close up and the ottomatick hit the old man every time ■ “Everything kept getting worse but soon Harold saw a terrible looking cavren and went inside of it and put the old man down from carring him The

cavren was all black and it smelled terrible Well said the old man this is the worst looking place I have ever been and I bet there is something terrible in here and then some animal jumped out from back in there and bit him where the ottomatick bullets had wonded him and he said Oh some anlmaPis bitting me right in my wonds Oh now it is bitting me w*here my leg got broken “Soon the old man died and went to meet his Maker Well said Harold I wonder what I better do So he went back in the cavren and there was some kind of something green back in there and he was afraid probly it was the old mans gohst and he saw something that looked like Some eyes looking right at him—”

"Musther Penrod!” This was a hall from the house. Della, the cook, emergtd from the kitchen door and stood upon the back-porch in the sunset light She addressed the silent stable. “Musther Penrod! Y’ rout there slmwheres, why can’t y’answer me? Yer father aft’ mother’s away fer dinner an’ so’s Miss Marg’rut an’ I’m not goln’ to wait ahi night, so If ye want annything t’eat ye better c’min an’ eat it ’Ts the last I’ll cahl ye!” However, she came to the door five times during the gradual dusk to shout “Musther Penrod” and various warnings; but the stable remained stolidly unresponsive. Finally she delivered a real ultimatum, and when it proved ineffectual, retired permanently. . Certainly her voice had reached the physical ear of Penrod, but it conveyed no meaning; his mind had not heard it. Penrod’s self was in a horrible cavern in the Rocky mountains with Harold Ramorez. Like many another good soul moved to attempt the transmutation of vision into manuscript, this author was not aware how frail and treacherous are the processes of the alchemy. The fact that words are fixed symbols of things concerned Penrod little; he thought that the words he set upon the paper meant all the things he heard and felt and saw, in his mind’s eye, as he wrote —things which so stirred and thrilled him that his hand had begun to tremble as it sped, faster and faster, across the pages. He shook with horror of the awful refuge discovered by Harold Ramorez; he saw a green vapor shimmering In its sinister hollows; he heard the "shrieking of she cahon wlnd acrdss the cavern’s mouth, saw It lifting and tossing the white hair and beard of a dreadful figure which lay there, naked, torn and drenched. He fled toward the green vapor in.the depths, only to turn back, shuddering with ghastly suspicions, while out of the darkness hundreds of eyes—eyes without bodies, eyes without faces—looked at him and began to come closer, and closer, and closer. When such a situation is thus conceived and developed In such an author, it seldom proceeds toward convalescence; but rather the symptoms become more and more malignant Indefinitely, relief being obtained only after the author has had a night’s sleep. So it was but natural that Harold Ramorez’s suspicion? concerning the green vapor turried out to be well founded. The vapor proved, indeed, to be the ghost of the unfortunate Old Man who had suffered so greatly after arriving at the cavern, and on the journey thereto, and also, owing to the machinations of Mr. Wilson, for sixteen long, previous years. And, with the typical inconsistency of all ghosts, this one had undergone a complete change of character since 'passing. Forgetting every former tie and all gratitude, it seemed wholly inimical to its former benefactor, and assuming the position of terror-in-chief of a place upon which, In life, it had pronounced an unfavorable opinion and for which it had shown no attachment whatever, it now appeared to have no affairs to call It elsewhere, nor any purpose in existence save to unsettle the reason of one who had shown it nothing but kindness. For', in truth, Harold Ramorez feared he might go mad —and Penrod’s mouth opened and his eyes bulged fearsomely as he wrote. And that very instant the flame of his depleted lantern died absolutely. Harold Ramorez himself was not left in more complete eclipse. Instinct brought Penrod to his feet at a bound; and, as he looked out over the side of the sawdust box toward the open door, his state of mind was one that needed the immediate reassurance of sunshine. And bright, warm, July afternoon sunshine was what Penrod fully expected to see. v Instead, he looked ihto Egyptian night Therefore it is not surprising that when Penrod emerged from the stable, a very few seconds later, , breathing somewhat dlgconcertedly, ho bore In both hands, ready for all emergencies, an overwelghty but certainly formidable weapon, which had come to his hand as he slid down from the sawdust box. . It was an ax. There was no mfton; there were no stars; there was no light in heaven; there was no light in a neighbor’s house. The air was thick and black;

shrubberies In the yard took curious, changin- shapes, and Penrod kept a wary eye upon them as he threaded his way to the kitchen door. It opened to his hand, revealing nothing save by reminiscent odor; but there was a dim light in the dining room. Thither he proceeded, his unnerved condition being at once Improved by the sight of viands and vegetables, for there was a plate upon the table at his accustomed place, and food plenteous, though grown cold. A conjunction of suggestions, occurring as he ate? recalled something like an echo of Delia’s voice; gradually he became susceptible to an Impression that his father and mother and sister had not dined at home. Then abruptly It struck him that he might be alone in the house. “All alone in an empty house!” As the words formed in Penrod’s mind, it was as if a husky voice had uttered them somewhere overhead. He was grievously startled? “An empty house!" • At the upper end of the table was a part of a cold ham, beside which lay a large, horn-handled carving-knife; and Penrod, after swallowing dryly once or twice, lunged suddenly at this implement, grasped it, and stood upon the defensive. He remained in a tense attitude, listening; and there was no sound either within the house or without; nothing could have been more ominous. Finally, carving knife in hand, he went back to the kitchen, where he had left the ax, and returned to the dining room doubly armed. Again he stood to listen. Suddenly Penrod whirled straight about, with ax and carving knife both lifted to strike at something behind him. Nothing was there except the sideboard, so he ’bout-faced suspiciously again. Then, laying the ax upon the table, but keeping the knife in his right hand, he stepped upon a .chair and extended his left hand to the gas fixture, meaning to turn the jet on full. But he pressed the key in the

wron’g direction, and for the second time within that half-hour Penrod’s light went out. To a person in his condition it was a disaster, and, uttering an exclamation of he stumbled and fell from the chair with a light crash. He was up again In an Instant, cutting the air in all directions with the carving knife; then he groped for the ax, found it, and stood still once more, on the defensive, listening Intently, expecting the worst and panting, with an effect, upon that stillness, almost uproarious. He moved about, and cautiously felt his way round the table and debauched to the mantelpiece, where matches were sometimes to be found in a small porcelain slipper, madly believed to be decorative. A chill struck to his spine at a veritable sound behind him. This one was a faint creak, the result of some capillary action in the wooden floor, but so far as Penrod’s nerves were concerned it might have been a shot. Wheeling, he struck a frantic blow with the ax, which, completing a fine curve, miraculously failed to amputate the wlelder’s left foot at the ankle, but, as an Incident, permanently relieved all members of the house hold from troubling to put any more matches In the porcelain slipper. Thereupon Penrod decided- to go outdoors. The decision itself was a simple matter; action upon it was deferred because of extreme hesitation tq move at all. But after a gruesome period of Inertia he began to tiptoe backward in the direction of the door, keeping his eyes, ax and carving knife warily toward where the villainous creak had sounded. Thus retrogressing, he presently found himself In the side hall, which separated all the front part of the roomy, old-fashioned house from the dining room and kitchen. The doors leading to the forward rooms were closed, and the thought of opening them filled him with horror; In his mind’s eye he saw them, gaunt, huge, full of black shapes of furniture, lurking places that might conceal anything! An empty house in the night-time has few attractions for a boy. In closed darkness sickens his soul and likewise has a discouraging physical effect; climaxing in the pit of his stomach—which is the seat of courage.

This fabled point, in the case of Penrod, was becoming more and more sensitive every moment. He suffered from an unpleasant conviction that he was surrounded by vital dangers which became the deadlier for each slightest movement that he made. These dangers were all the ifiore deadlier because they were undefined; the inscrutible darkness held Secrets —and, putting out his hand to feel the wall near the kitchen door, he encountered one of them. His fingers very, very briefly closed upon something that felt like a head of wet, cold hair. It sank from his touch, and there was a thicksounding thud upon the floor. “Oof I” moaned Penrod, the question of going out through the kitchen thus definitely settled, and when he became again conscious of his whereabouts he was on the second floor at the top of the back stairs. Mops had driven greater than Penrod. He was sorely shaken, but not disposed to linger In the vicinity of stairs that led toward a kitchen Inhabited by surprises of this kind. He fled into his father’s bed chamber, bruising himself variously in the passage thereto, and, abandoning his weapons for the moment, slid bls hand along the wall until it came to a forbidden object that hung there. It was an Enfield rifle, a muzzleloading relic, last put to use by Penrod’s grandfather on a day In the year 1863, and It was truly unloaded. Penrod got it down, pointed the muzzle wAverlngly in the general direction of the door by which he had entered, and whispered feebly and fremulously: “Now let’s see whu-what you were goln’ to do sojnum-much!” He maintained this attitude until the weight of the extended rifle became insupportable; then he grounded arms and leaned against a bureau, breathing even more vehemently than before. His elbow touched a bottle; he seized upon it and smelled the contents —spirits of camphor. Suggestion was immediately roused by the memory of an

unpleasant experience in the past. He recorked the bottle, placed it under his arm, and muttered: “You betcha! Guess they won’t like this so much! Sprinkle It in their ole eyes!” It now became his purpose to make his way cautiously to the front stairway, descend to the front hall, and thence, by the front door, reach the outer air. So, with slow and noiseless motions, he put himself once more in possession of his ax and carving knife, thrust the latter in the breast of his jacket, and, though encumbered to the point of difficulty by the ax, the gun and the camphor bottle, retumea to the upper hall and began an advance in force. He went forward a dozen steps with some confidence, then halted abruptly. What stopped him was something altogether Inside himself. In the dark.ness a green vapor appeared (though not at the other end of the hall, where he thought it did) and there emerged from It the shocking figure of an old man lying in the rain at the mouth of a wind-swept cavern. The vision of the sawdust box —spiteful, like all other visions—chose this particular moment to recur to the author of “Harold Ramorez.” JHe was standing by the portal of his own bedroom. Gasping, he hopped across the threshold, kicked the door shut, and maintained possession of his armory, though, perhaps, not of his faculties, huddled himself upon the bed and buried his" face in the pillow. It is not altogether discreditable to a boy In the dark, that he imitates an ostrich. But it is unfortunate, because, when one ls already in the dark, very little relief can be obtained by closing the eyes. Penrod, burrowing into his pillow, could see- the old man rather more plainly than if he had allowed his eyes to remain open. He saw him through the pillow and through the wall;, IX seemed that the old man was lying on the hall rug just outside the closed door, and that before long he would get up and come into the bedroom and bend over the bed and— But the imagination balked in ultimate horror. • . [ &■ Without lifting or turning his face Penrod managed to squirm inside the

bedclothes and to cover himself completely, as far as the top of his head, for the old man was but one of the monsters that threatened. Burglars! Burglars were creeping through the halls upstairs and downstairs; the air of the whole house became murmurous with the whispers and rustlings. Penrod, still not moving his head, pulled the ax and the camphor bottle beneath the sheet; slid,the gun off the coverlet, and pushed it as far under the bed as he could. Burglars might be more merciful if they believed him but a little lonely sleeping child intending no resistance. He gulped lamentably, and a poignant bitterness began to form no inconsiderable part of his condition. What kind of parents were they (he asked himself) who could go blithely off and leave a little lonely child to be found by burglars—and other things —in a great, horrible, holloW, empty house? Probably his father and mother were somewhere with a whole crowd of people, in brightly lighted rooms; no doubt at this very moment they were both talking and laughing. i Laughing! His indignation extended to cover the cases of his nlneteen-y ear-old sister Margaret, and of Della, the cook, and Katie, the housemaid. Most likely all three of these marble hearts were also somewhere, talking and laughing! Big, strong, old grown people—every one of them —well, maybe they would be sorry to-morrow! Besides, he would get even with them —if he lived. He was making up his mind In what manner a general revenge shoyld be accomplished upon the household when the handle of his door clicked faintly, and yet distinctly; was softly turned, and the door opened a little way. Penrod’s, heart did not stop, but his breath did. He lay motionless. The door was closed again, gently. Then heart and breath both bounded. There was no doubt about it; something had certainly opened his door —and had looked at him. He had felt it. j It was too much for closed eyes! Penrose lifted himself on his elbow and stared whlrlingly about him until his gqze became fixed In utter horror upon the threshold of the door. A thread of light glimmered wanly along that threshold. Shaking to the verge of spasms, Penrod gathered his weapons again. Then the light disappeared, and there was darkness —and silence, and silence, and silence! And whatever the color of the gleam beneath the door, the thread that remained upon the fixed retina of Penrod’s eye, after the actual light had gone, was green. Now, Indeed, out of the darkness over the frenzied boy did Chimera peer and monster hover! The green thread broke and twisted Into shapes, bodiless, faceless eyes came closer and closer and closer, while animals breathed hot upon his cheek. The silence grew tenser with noises just about to burst forth; the darkness became charged with unthinkable visions just ready to make themselves visible; raw heads and bloody bones, blenching phantasm and ravening vampire, bugbear, bugaboo, mummy and nightmare, ghastly thing that had ever got into Penrod’s head was issued forth and now hung over him. And outside the door were the burglars. There were burglars rampaging all through the house by this time, in

all the empty rooms and vacant halls and passages. Burglars had opened the door and looked at him. Stop! Had they only looked at him? Had one of them come In the room when the door opened? Was he there now? Or was it the old man? That finished Penrod. With a shattering yell of tterror ha sprang from the bed, clutching all his armory somehow and anyhow; got the door open, plunged blindly through the hall and down the front stairs to the landing, where he tripped over the stock of his gun and fell all the rest of the way. bellowing outrageously and accompanied by the rifle, the camphor bottle and the carving knife and the ax. It sounded like the Eiffel tower falling downstairs. He came to a pause In a sitting posture at the foot of the newel. The hall was brightly lighted. So were the rooms opening from It, and out of these rooms Issued sounds of sudden confusion and disturbance. His mother rushed to him through the nearest door. *( t. “Penrod! What on earth —* Then through the open front door came Margaret and four young men who had been spending the evening with her on the front porch. Then, following Penrod’s mother, came three of Penrod’s aunts, one uncle, and eleven other alarmed ladies and gentlemen, most of them holding cards in their hands. Then through the door of another room came Penrod’s father, three of Penrod’s uncles, one aunt ‘and the eleven remaining members of the Thursday Evening Bridge club, the hospitable superintendence of which organization had occupied most of Mrs. Schofield’s time that evening after her return, with her husband and daughter, from dining with an elderly relative. Over the banister above leaned Della (In extreme negligee), and Deila likewise demanded to know. What on earth! Then, by means of the back hall and the back stairs, Katie and an alleged cousin, who had been sitting quietly on the back porch, joined Della. Katie also wanted to know, What on earth! “What is the matter, Penrod?” his mother wailed. Penrod coughed, gulped, and answered feebly: “Just—-playing!” “But what made you get up?” his mother cried. “Get up—where?” “Out of bed! I slipped away and looked In your room awhile ago and you were sound asleep. What did you get up and dress for and — “I was just pretending!” “Pretending what?” “Just pretending.” He answered absently and in a preoccupied tone, hts mind having somewhat centered upon the number of human beings in the circle about him. As his mother remarked afteward, there were more people In the house that evening than she had entertained for years. Including the family and Margaret’s callers there were 33, she said. At that she forgot to count Penrod and Della and Katie, and Katie's cousin. Altogether there were 37. “Mom-muh?” Penrod began as he rose from the floor. “You put those things away!” commanded his father. “Mom-muh?” “And then you go straight to bed!" his father concluded sternly. “Mom-muh, aren’t you going to have ice cream?”

Penrod's Mouth Opened and His Eyes Bulged Fearsomely as He Wrote.