Jasper County Democrat, Volume 9, Number 25, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 September 1906 — The Manager Of the B. & A. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Manager Of the B. & A.

By VAUGHAN KESTER

SYNOPSIS OK PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. I—Dan Oakley, Manager of the Bnckhorn and Antioch railroad (known att the ‘ Huckleberry"), receives two letters, one telling him that his convict father, Roger Oakley, has been pardoned, and the other that General Cornish, the owuer of the B. & A., Is about to visit Antioch. ll—Oakley visit- Dr. Emory and meets Constance Emory. Other visitors are Griff Ryder, owner of the Antioch Herald, and Turner Joice. the local artist. Ill—Oakley tells General Cornish that in order to keep the car shoos running a cut in wages is necessary. IV--Oakley tells Holt, his assistant treasurer, of the proposed cuts. V—Roger Oakley appears In Antioch. He is a worthy old man. who killed an enemy in self defence and was unjustly convicted of murder. VI Roger Oaklev goes to work in the car shops. Oriff Ryder tries to induce Dan to keep a friend at work. Oakley refuses. CHAPTER VII. Dli. EMORY anfl Dan were standing on the street corner before the hotel. Oakley had just come uptown from the office. He was full of awkward excuses and apologies, but Dr. Emory cut them short. “I suppose I’ve a right to be angry at the way you've avoided us, but I’m not. On the contrary, I’m going to take you home to dinner with me.” If I)au had consulted his preferences In the matter, he would have begged off, but he felt he couldn’t without giving offense, so he allowed the doctor to lead him away, but he didn’t appear as pleased or as grateful as lie should have been at this temporary release from the low’ diet of the American House. Miss Emory was waiting for her father on the porch. An errand of hers had taken him downtown. She seemed surprised to see Oakley, but was graciously disposed toward him. While he fell short of her standards, he was decidedly superior to the local youth with whom she had at first been Inclined to class him. Truth to tell, the local youth fought rather shy of the doctor's beautiful daughter, Mr. Burt Smith, the gentlemanly druggist and acknowledged social leader, who was much sought after by the most exclusive circles In such centers of fashion as Buckbom and Harrison, had been so chilled by her manner when, meeting her on the street, he had attempted to revive an acquaintance which dated back to their childhood that he was a mental wreck for days afterward and had hardly dared trust himself to fill even the simplest prescription, I>r. Emory excused lilmself and went Into the house. Dan made himself comfortable on the steps at Miss Emory’s side. In the very nearness there was something luxurious and satisfying. He was silent, because he feared the antagonism of speech. “I was with friends of yours this afternoon, Mr. Oakley," she snld by way of starting the conversation. “Friends of mine here?” “Yes; the Joyces.” “I must go around and see them. They have been very kind to my father,” said Dan, with hearty good will. “How long Is your father to remain In Antioch, Mr. Oakley?" Inquired Constance, ”As long as I remain, I suppose. There are only the tAvo of us, you know.” "What does he find to do here?” “Oh,” laughed Dan, “he finds plenty to do. Ills energy is something dread ful. Then, too. lie’s employed at the shops. That keeps him pretty busy, you see.” But Miss Emory hadn’t known this before. She elevated her eyebrows In mild surprise. She was not sure she underwood. "I didn’t know that he was one ol the officers of the road,” with deeeptlA'e indifference. “He’s not. lie's a' cabinetmaker,” explained the literal Oakley, to whom a cabinetmaker was quite as respectable a* any one else. There was a brief pause, while Constance turned this over in her mind. It struck her ns very singular that Oakley’s father should l>e one of the hands. I’erhups she credited him with a sensitiveness of Avbleh he was entirely Innocent. She rested her chin In her hands and gazed out luto the dusty street. “Isn’t It lutlnltely pathetic to think of that poor little man and ills work?” going back to Joyce. "Do you know, I could have cried? And his wife's faith, it Is sublime, even If It Is mistaken.” Bhe laughed In a dreary fashion. “What Is to lie done for people like that, whose lives are quite uncompensated?” They were joined by the doctor, who had caught a part of what Constance said and divined the rest. “You see only the pathos. Joyce Is Just ns avoll off here as he would be anywhere else, and perhaps a little better. He makes a decent living with his pictures.” As lie spoke he crossed the porch and stood at her side, with his hand resting affectionately on her shoulder. “I guess there’s a larger justice In the world than we conceive,” said Oakley. “But not to know, to go on blindly doing something that U really very dreadful and never to know!” Bbe turned to Oakley. “I am afraid I rather agree with your father. He seems happy enough, and he is doing work for which there is a demand.” “Would you be content to live here with no greater opportunity thau he has?”.

| Oakley laughed and shook his head. "No, but that’s not the same. I’ll i pull the Huckleberry up and make it I pay and then go In for something bigger.” “And if you can’t make it pay?” “I won’t bvtlier with It, then.” "But if you had to remain?” Oakley gave her an incredulous smile. “That couldn’t be possible. I have done all sorts of things but stick In what I found to be undesirable berths, but of course business Is not at all the same.” "But Isn’t ft? Look at Mr. Ryder. He says that he Is burled here in the pine woods, with no hope of ever getting back into the world, and I am sure he is able, and journalism is certainly a business, like anything else.” Oakley made no response to this. He didn’t propose to criticise Ryder; but, all the same, he doubted his ability. "Griff’s frightfully lazy,” remarked the doctor. "He prefers to settle down to an effortless sort of an existence rather than make a struggle.” * “Don’t you think Mr. Ryder extremely clever, Mr. Oakley?” "I know him so slightly, Miss Emory, but no doubt he is.” Mrs. Emory appeared in the doorway, placid and smiling. “Constance, you and Mr. Oakley come on In; dinner’s ready.” When Dan vveut home that night he told himself savagely that he Avould never go to the Emorys’ again. The experience had been most unsatisfactory. In spite of Constance’s evident disposition toward tolerance where he was concerned, she exasperated him. Her unconscious condescension was a bitter memory of which he could not rid himself. Certainly women must be petty, small souled oreatures if she was at all representative of her sex. Yet In spite of his determination to avoid Constance, even at the rißk of seeming rude, he found It required greater strength of will than he possessed to keep awog from the Emorys. He realized In the course of the next few weeks that a ueAV stage in his development had been reached. Inspired by what he felt was a false but beautiful confidence In himself he called often, and as time Avore on the frequency of these calls steadily Increased. All this while he thought about Miss Emory a great deal and was sorry for her or admired her, according to his mood. In Constance’s attitude toward him there was a certain fickleness that he resented. Sometimes she was friendly and companionable, and then again she seemed to revive all her lingering prejudices and Avas utterly Indifferent to him, and her Indifference was the most complete thing of its kind be had ever encountered. Naturally Dun and Ryder met very frequently, and when they met they clashed. It was not especially pleasant, of course, but Ryder was persistent arid Oakley was dogged. Once he started In pursuit of an object he never gave tip cr owned that he avus beaten. In some form lie lmd accomplished everything he set out to do, and if the results had not always been just what he had anticipated he had at least had the satisfaction of bringing circumstances under his control. He endured the editor’s sarcasms and occasionally retaliated with a vengeance so heavy as to leave Griff quivering with the smart of it. Miss Emory found It difficult to maintain the peace between them, but she admired Dan’s mode of warfare; It Avas so conclusive, and he shoAved such grim strength in his ability to look out for hlniself. Ilut Dan felt that he must suffer by any comparison Avlth the editor. He had no genius for trifles, hut rather a ponderous capacity. He had Avorked hard, with the single determination to Avln success. He had the practical man’s contempt, born of his satisfied Ignorance, for all useless things, and to his mind the useless things were those whose value it Avas Impossible to reckon In dollars and cents. He had lieea Avell content Avlth himself, and how he felt thut somehow he hud lost his hearings. Why was It he had not known liefore that the mere strenuous climb, the mere earning of a salary, was not all of life? He even felt a sneaking envy of Ryder of which he avus heartily ashamed. Men fall In love differently. Some resist and hang bnek from the Inevitable, not being sure of themselves, and some go headlong, never having any doubts. With characteristic singleness of purI>ose Dun Avent headlong, hut of course lie did not know wlint the trouble Avas until long ufter the facts In the case Avere patent to every one. and Antioch had lost Interest in Its speculations ns to Avhother the doctor’s daughter would take the editor or the general manager, for, ns Mrs. Popploton, the Emorys’ nearest nelghlxir, sagely observed, she avhs "having her pick.” To Oakley Miss Emory seemed to accumulate dignity and reserve In the exuct proportion that he lost them, but lie was determined she should like him If she never did more than that. She Avas Just the least bit afraid oi him. She knew he was not deficient In a proper pride and that he possessed plenty of self respect, but for all thnt he was not very dexterous. It amused her to lead him out and then to draw back and. leave him. to. flounder opt of

some untenable position she had beguiled him into assuming. She displayed undeniable skill Id these maneuvers, and Dan was by turns savage and penitent But ebe never gave him a chance to say what he wanted to say. Ryder made his appeal to her vanity. It was a strong appeal. He was essentially presentable and companionable. She understood him, and they had much in common, but to r all that her heart approved of Oakley. She felt his dominance. She realized that he was direct and simple and strong. Yet in her Judgment of him she was not very generous. She could not understand, for instance, how It was that he had been willing to allow his fa ther to go to work in the shops like one of the common hands. It seemed to her to argue such an awful poverty in the way of Ideals. She tried to stifle her growing liking for Oakley and her unwilling admirn-

tion for his strength and honesty and a certain native refinement. Unconsciously, perhaps, she had always associated qualities of this sort with position and wealth. She divined his lack pf early opportunity and was alive to his many crudities of speech and manner, and he suffered, as he knew he must suffer, by comparison with the editor, but In spite of this Constance Emory knew deep down in her heart that he possessed solid and substantial merits of his own. [TO BE CONTINUED)

“Isn’t It infinitely pathetic to think of that poor little man and his work ? ”