Indianapolis Times, Volume 35, Number 203, Indianapolis, Marion County, 3 January 1923 — Page 8

A Hoosier Chronicle By MEREDITH NICHOLSON First Novel in the Times Series of Fiction Stories by Indiana Writers. (Cbpyrieht, 1012. by Meredith Nicholson)

"Bo you’ve been having supper with the Wares, have you, while I ate here all by myself? A nice way to treat a lone old woman—letaving me to prop the ‘lndiana Farmer’ on the coffee pot for company! I had to stay at Lexington longer than I wanted to. ami some of my Kentucky cousins held me up In Louisville. I notice, Daniel, that there are some doing at the i-katc House- I must say It was a downright sin for old Ridgefield to go duck shooting at his time of life and die just when we were getting politics calmed down In this State. When I saw that old ‘Stop, Look. Listen:’ editorial printed like a Thanksgiving proclamation in the ‘Courier.’ I knew there was trouble. I must speak to Atwill. He’s letting the automobile folks run the paper again.” She demanded to know when Dan would have time to do some work for her: she had disposed of her Kentucky farm and was going ahead with her scheme for a vocational school to be established at Waupegan. This was the first that Dan had heard of this project, and its bearing upon the hopes of the Bassetts as the heirs apparent of Mrs. Owen's estate startled him. "I want you to draw up papers covering the whole business. Daniel, but you’ve got to get rid of your Legislature first. 1 thought of a good name for the school, Sylvia. We’ll call it Elizabeth House School, to hitoh It on to the boarding house. 1 want you and Daniel to go down East with me right after Christmas to look at some more schools where they do that kind of work. We'U have fun next spring tearing up the farm and putting up the new buildings. Are Haliie and Marian in town, Sylvia?” "No, they’re at Fraserville,” Sylvia replied. "And I had a note from Blackford yesterday. He's doing well at school now.” "Well, I guess you did that for him, Syh-ia. I hope they're all grateful for that.” "Oh, it was nothing: and they paid me generously for my work.” "Humph!” Mrs. Owen sniffed. "Children, there are things in this world that a cheek don't settle.” There were some matters of business to be discussed. Dan had at last received an offer for the Kelton house at Montgomery, and Mrs. Owen thought he ought to he able to screw the price up a couple of hundred dollars. "I’m all ready' to close the estate when the sale is completed," said I 'an. "Practically everything will be • •leaned up when the house is sold. T hat Canneries stock that we inventoried as worthless is pretty sure to pan out. I’ve refused to compromise.” "That’s right, Daniel. Don’t you compromise that case. This skyrocket finance is all right for New York, but we can't allow it here in the country where folks are mostly square or trying to be." “Tt seems hard to let the house go." said Sylvia. “It's given Mary a home and we'll have to find a nlace for hr.” "Oh. that’s all fixed.” remarked Mrs. Owen. “I've got work for her at Elizabeth House. She can do the darning and mending. Daniel, have you brought the papers from Andrew’s safety box over here?” "Yes, Aunt Sally: I did that the last time T was in Montgomery, f wanted to examine the abstract of title and he ready to close this sale if you and Sylvia approved of it.” "Well, well.” Mrs. Owen said, in one of those irrelevances that adorn* ■! her conversation. Dan knew what was in her mind Since that night on Waupegan. blessed forever by Sylvia's tears, the tetter found among Professor Kelton’s pa had led him through long, intri ••ate mazes of speculation. ft wathe torn leaf from a book that was worthless without the context; a piece of valuable evidence, but Inadmissible unless supported and illuminated by other testimony. Sylvia had been singularly silent, and Mrs. Owen’s keen eyes saw that something was amiss. She stopped talking, as much as to say, "Now. if you young folks have anything troubling you, now's your time to come out with it.” An old clock on the stair landing boomed ten. Mrs. Owen stirred restlessly. Sylvia, sitting in a lew chair by the fire, clasped her hands ab ruptlv, clenched them hard, and spoke, turning her head slowly until her eyes rested upon Dan. "Dan,” she asked, “did you ever know —do you know now—what was in the letter you carried to Grandfather Kelton that first time I saw you—the time I went to find grand father for you?” Dan glanced quickly at Mrs. Owen. “Answer Sylvia’s question, Daniel,” the old lady replied. "Yes; I learned later what it was. And Aunt Sally knows.” “Tell me; tell me what you know about it,” commanded Sylvia gravely, and her voice was clear now Dan hesitated. He rose and stoo l with his arm resting on the mantel. “It’s all right, Daniel. Now that Sylvia has asked, she must know just what we know.” said Mrs Owen. "The letter was among your grand father’s papers. It was an offer to pay for your educatio. It was an unsigned letter.” ‘But you know who wrote it?” asked Sylvia, not lifting her head. “?fo: I don’t know that,” he replied earnestly: “we haven’t the slightest idea.” “But how did you come to be the messenger? "Who gave you the letter?” she persisted quietly. Daniel never told me that. Sylvia. But if you want to know, he must tell you. It might be better for you not to know: you must consider that. It cam make no difference now of any kind." "It may mak a difference.” said Sylvia brokenly, not lifting her head: ”it may make a great deal of dis terenee. That’s why I speak of It: that’s why I must know!” “Go on, Daniel: answer Sylvia’s o u est ion." 'Sir. Fitch gave It to me. It had been entrusts ’ to him for delivery by a personal friend or a client: I never knew. He assured me that he had no idea what the letter contained: but he knew of course where it came from. He chose me for the errand, I suppose, because I was anew man In the office, and a comparative stranger In town. T remember that b* a*k*d ns* It I had *ver been In

Montgomery. :</ though to he sure I had no acquaintances there. I carried hack a verba! enswer—which was stipulated in the letter. The answer was ‘No,’ and in what way Mr. Fitch passed it on to his client I never knew.” “You didn’t tell me those things when we found the letter. Daniel,” said Mrs. Owen reproachfully. The old lady opened a drawer, | found a chamois skin, and polished J her glasses slowly. Dan walked away as though to escape from that figure with averted face crouching hv the fire. But without moving Sylvia spoke again, with a monotonous level of tone, and her question had the empty ring of a 'Sawyer’s intertogatory worn threadbare by repetition to a succession of witnesses: "At that time was Mr. Bassett among the clients of Wright and Fitch, and did you ever see him In the office,then, or at any time?” Mrs. Owen closed the drawer deliberately and raised her eyes to Dan’s affrighted gaze. "Daniel, you’d better run along now. Sylvia’s going to spend the night here.” Sylvia had not moved or spoken again when the outer door closed on Harwood. CHAPTER XXXI Miss Farrell was surprised to find her employer already in his office when she unlocked the door at eight o’clock the next morning, and her surprise was Increased when Harwood, always punctilious in such matters, ignored the good-morning with which she greeted him. The eleetrio lights over Dan’s desk were burning, a fact not lost upon his stenographer. It was apparent that Harwood had either spent the night in his office or had gone to work before daylight. Rose’s eyes were as sharp as her wits, and she recognized at a glance the file envelopes and papers relating to the Kelton estate, many of them superscribed in her own hand, that lay on Harwood’s desk. She snapped off the lights with an air that implied reproof, or could not have failed of that effect if the man at the desk had been conscious of the act. He was hopelessly distraught ar.d his face appeared no less pallid in daylight than in the electric glare in which Rose had found him. As the girl warmed her hands at the radiator in the reception room the telephone chimed cheerily. The telephone provides a welcome companionship for the office girl: its importunities and insolences are at once her delight and despair. Rose took down the receiver with relief. She parleyed guardedly with an un seen questioner and addressed Harwood from the door in the cautious, apologetic tone with which wise of r ce girls break in upon the meditations of their employers. "Pardon me, Mr. Harwood. Shall 1 say you’re engaged. It’s Mr. Thatcher.” Dan half-turned and replied with a : oneness Rose had not expected. "Say what you please, Rose: only don’t want to talk to him or see him. or anybody.” The clock in the courthouse tower t.oomert nine sombrely. Dan dis t listed it accuracy as he distrusted . - l oth’ng in the world that morning, walked listlessly to the window ■ onipared the face of the clock his watch Ho had thought it ' be noon: hut. the hour of the day • -ii matter greatly. "I s all right.” said Rose meekly f •in (lie door. ”1 told him you were piol.al-!' at the Statehouse.” “Whom? Oh. thank you. Rose.” And then. ■ s though to ease her con f'-icr-e for this tnlid mendacitv, he added: "l lsdieve I did have an engagement over there at nine.” “He said—Rose began warily, and then gave him an opportunity to cut her short. ■'Y'iiat did he say?” ’Oh he was hot! He said if you came hi before he found you, to sav that if '-ou and Ramsay didn’t help him deliver the freight today he would get action tomorrow: that that’s the limit.” “He said tomorrow, did he? Very well, Rose. That’s all.” Rose, virtuously Indexing the letter book, saw Harwood a a ho idly ranged the rooms, try the hall door to make sure It was bolted. Then he stood at the window of his own room, •taring at nothing. The telephone chimed cheerfully at intervals. Ramsay sought him; Thatcher had stationed one of his allies nt *he telephone booth in the State House corridor to call the office at regular intervals. Newspaper reporters demanded to know where Harwood could he found; the governor, rankling under the criticism he had brought upon his party by the special session, wished to see Harwood to learn when, if possible, the legislature would take its*> |f home. To these continual importunities Rose replied in tones of surprise, regret, or chagrin, as the individual case demanded. without again troubling her employer. The index completed, she filed papers, smoothed her yellow hair at the washntand. exchanged fraternal signals with a girl friend in the office opposite, and read the “Courier’s” report of the senatorial struggle with complete understanding of its intricacies. "Rose!” Tt was 12 o’clock when Harwood called her. He had brushed aside the mass of documents she had noted on her arrival, and a single letter sheet lay before him. "Without glancing up he hade her sit down. She had brought her notebook prepared to take dictation. Tie glanced at it and shook his head The tired, indifferent Har wood she had found at the ettd of his nigh* vigil had vanished; he was nr.-e more the alert, earnest young man of action she admired "Rose T want to ask you some ques tions. T think you -will believe me if T say that T shouldn’t ask them if they were not of importance—of very great importance." "All right, Mr. Harwood.” Her eves had fallen upon the letter and her lids fluttered quickly- She touched her pompadour with the hack of her liand and tightened the knot of her tie. ’’This is on the dead. Rose. It eon ttmva lot of people, and it a lmpor-

DOINGS OF THE DUFFS—

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THEM DAYS IS GONE FOREVER-

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whoa’-' "Z t \ : sternly" HoA }“ GEwe^A( -:,\ § IURNm. A, H, MAf-l-A. STOATS, OLD was gain/a)c 7 speed so rapidly that it seemed only SECONDS until. AUNT SARAH PEABoDYS TREASURED BOX l OF FREIGHT WOULD BE DASHED TO PIECES AGAINST SOME STORE FRONT. '

rant for me to know the truth. Arid it's possible that you may not he able 10 help: but if you can't the matter ends here.” He rose and closed the door of his room to shut out the renewed jingle of the telephone. "I want you to look at this letter and tell me whether you ei*cr saw it before.” She took It from him, glanced at the

OUT OUR WAY —By WILLIAMS

THE OLD HOME TOWN —By STANLEY

first line indifferently, looked closely at the paper, and gave It back, shaking her head. "We never had anything like that iu the office, paper or machine either. That’s heavier than the stationery you had over in the Boordrnan building, and that’s a black ribbon: we've always used purple copying ribbons. And that letter wasn’t copied; you can tell that-"' *

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

f OH, | ONLY WANTED THE f FURNITURE AMD THAT SOPT \OF THIMG MOVED-HOT THE Ml 1 ! 1 " —WHOLE HOUSE AMD p\ l ’ OH,ABOUT V° T ' T0 ° ? At/rA HUHDRED AND Twenty-five j (=== J*- a= = s

“That doesn’t answer my question, Rose I wajrt to know whether you ever saw that letter before. Perhaps you'd better take another look at it.” “Oh, I can tell any of my work across the street! I don't know anything about that, letter. Mr. Harwood.” Her indifference had yielded to respectful indignation. She set her Ups firmly and her blue eyes expressed surprise that her employer should be

No Chance for an Argument

Capture This On Your Coloratura

thus subjecting her to cross-examina-tion. “I understand perfectly, Rose, that this is unusual, and that it is not. quite on the square. But this is strictly between ourselves. It’s on the dead, you understand.” “Oh, I'd do anything for you that I’d do for anybody, yes, sir—l'd do more: hut I refused ten thousand dollars for what I know about what

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS—By BLOSSER

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OUR BOARD LEG HOUSE—By AHERN

happened in the transportation committee that winter I was its stenog. That’s a lot of money: it would take tare of me for the rest of my life: and you know Thatcher kept after me until I had to tell him a few things I’d do to him if he didn't let me alone. I’ll answer your question straight.” and she looked him in the eye, “I never saw that letter before, and I don’t know any thing about

• [ J THINK 1 CAN TALK 1 ( TO V OO BETTER- ) \ OVER THE PHONE'j j L NEA SERVICE

||- /LoM.,mrp/CT ) wvut part J ■ i OP TV 9oDy IS J C OP THE J *: ... I . I

—, \ Ur VKLL, TEACHER. ! I \ SAD EDGAR. WIARTIN / i / HAD .A LARGE J I 1 VOCABULARY \ t* -j, | V FOR HIS- ff A l t '-b MmM

it. Is that all?" "To go back again, Rose," resumed i>;tn patiently. "not many girl* would have the strength to resist a i ion like that, as you did. But this ie very different case. I need jnwur help, but it isn't for myself that Pm trying to trace Wtr. IS ll weren't a matter of actual need 1 shouldn’t trouble you—be MB * tht." To B* rmltiml

JAN. 3, 1323

—By ALLMAN

—By AL POSEN