Jasper County Democrat, Volume 12, Number 91, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 February 1910 — PAID IN FULL [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

PAID IN FULL

Novelized From Eugene Walter’s Great Play

...By... JOHN W. HARDING

Cspyright, 1908. by G. W. Dillingham Co.

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. CHAPTER I—lntroduces Captain Amos Williams, president of the Latin-Ameri-can Steamship company, in very bad humor over a threatened strike of his dock laborers. Joseph Brooks, underpaid accountant and collector for Williams, expresses his sympathy for the strikers and is ridiculed by his fellow clerks. ll—The president sends for James Smith, superintendent of the company's docks, and Instructs him to spare no expense In crushing the strikers. Smith advises pacific measures, but is overruled and prepares to obey orders. Ill—Mrs. Emma Brooks, the handsome young wife of the discontented clerk, tries to encourage him on his return to their bandbox apartment. but he is bitter against his employer and also against his wife’s mother and sister, who dislike him on account of his Inability to gain position. In his desperation he turns on his wife and suggests that she must regret her choice of him when she might have had Smith, who had offered himself. IV—Smith, who is the intimate friend of the family, makes his appearance on the scene, and Brooks continues his bitter arraignment of his employer and violent protest against his own impoverished condition. The discussion becomes rather personal, and Brooks takes his hat and leaves the premises. V —Accompanied by Captain williams, who is an old frlond of the family, Mrs. Harris and daughter Beth, mother and sister of Mrs. Brooks, enter the room. During the visit Brooks returns and makes a scene, accusing Williams of being the cause of his unhappiness. Mrs. Brooks reminds her husband of his breach of hospitality, and he apollgizes and leaves the house. VI When Brooks returns he astonishes his wife and Smith by inviting them to go to the theater. Smith offers to lend him 810, but he declines. Brooks extracts 810 from a roll of money collected for the company. Vll—Smith prevents a •trike. Vlll—Williams and Smith go to South America, and Brooks’ prospects Improve. Brooks tells his wife that he has been promoted and money is plentiful. The couple move into an expensive apartment hotel, and Mrs. Harris ceases to reproach them for their poverty. IX— Smith makes his appearance suddenly and Informs Brooks that Williams knows of his dishonesty and that the going to South America was only a scheme to entrap him and that he is shadowed by detectives. X and Xl—Smith tries to prepare Mrs. Brooks for the exposure by telling a story. Williams enters, and Emma thanks him for the change in their circumstances. He looks amazed, and Smith tries to avoid a climax. The captain takes the cue and holds his peace. Brooks enters suddenly and is terrified. Williams goes, and Smith tries to keep up the delusion, but Brooks breaks down and confesses all to his wife. She asks Smith to le. ve them. Xll—Emma endeavors to comfort him with her love and sympathy. Maddened by his disgrace and peril, he accuses her of being the cause of his downfall. She declares herself willing to do anything to save him, and he asks he to go alone, late at night as It is, to Williams’ bachelor npartment and obtain his freedon. He tells her that the captain Is fond of her and will do what ■he asks. When she realizes the baseness of the proposition she is stunned, but finally consents. Brooks arranges the rendezvous by telephone. XIII— While waiting for Mrs. Brooks, Williams has a call from Smith, who offers to pay the amount of Brooks' stealings in full. Williams refuses, and Smith warns him to be careful in his treatment of the culprit’s wife. awaits his wife ■ return in an agony of suspense. Mrs. Harris and her daughter happen In and demand the reason of his wife’s absence. XV—Mrs. Brooks meets Captain Williams and secures her husband’s freedom. XVI and XVII— The wife returns home, Informs Brooks that she has succeeded and tells him that she regards the debt paid In full; that there has been no loss of honor; but that her love for him is dead. He attempts to shake her resolution to give him up and finally tries to strangle her into submission. She is rescued by Smith and goes home to her mother XVlll—Tells of the further doings of the separted pair. XlX—Brooks wearies of his release, goes to Smith and proposes that the latter act as mediator, smith consents. XX —Smith Interviews Emma, but she is convinced that she will never have anything more to do with Brooks. XXl—Emma realizes now that Smith is in love with her—has been for years. Infuriated by Smith’s report regarding Emma, Brooks tries to stab him.

CHAPTER XXIL IT was to Brooks an Interminable week that elapsed between his visit to Smith and the latter’s return from his mission. Patience was one of his virtues. Having taken the decisive step toward a reconciliation with Emma, he yearned more than ever for his wife herself. He saw her now only as she was when he had made her his bride, only as she had T>een in the full flowering of her rhapsodic adoration, and the vision ablded with him by day as well as by night. Inthralling all ids senses. That the rapprochement would be effected he entertained no doubt whatever. Her present position, he was convinced, must be Intolerable. He planned to make her homecoming an occasion of festivity that would mark the beginning of a new, unending honeymoon. He had learned much from the desolation of a loveless life. Things that had bored him would now be delights. He would comport himself differently toward her in many ways. He spent his leisure time after business hours and on the Sunday while Smith was away in looking up apartments and in other preparations for the resumption of housekeeping, also in elaborating the programme of celebration. It was with eagerness and cdnfl. dence that he repaired to Smith’s lodgings on Monday evening, having ascertained at the boarding house during the day that his friend had returned that morning from his trip out of town. Smith was of too frank a nature to keep him for one minute under the delusion he saw by his manner he entertained: Emma bad demonstrated to him the impossibility of living with her husband and the futility of further effort to that end—shown him that n new and brighter flame, all cousum--IM. all purifying, had enveloped her

lieart and that It had purged It o? every trace of the old alaln sentiment The knowledge that It burned for him made his present task a peculiarly hard and painful one. "I’m sorry, Joe,’’ he said, almost before his visitor had seated himself, “but there's nothing doing.” Brooks' expectant smile died out. “How dp you mean nothing doing? Wasn’t she there? Weren't you able to see her?” “Yes. I saw her, and she refused. She will have nothing further to do with you.’’ Incredulity gave place quickly to bitter disappointment. “How’s that? What did you say to her?” “I told her that you were leading a straight life, all about your circumstances, that you were sorry for what had occurred and that In future it would be all different and you would do everything in your power to make her happy. I told her that you loved her more than ever. But it was no use.” “Didn’t you advise her to make up?" “I did, Joe. I urged her to forget and forgive, pleaded bard for you, told her I thought she ought to return to you. She said she could have forgiven the matter of money, but that In sending her to Captain Williams’ that night you killed every bit of her love for you and she would never pardon your act as long ns she drew breath. ’He Is dead to me for all time, dead and burled.’ she said. I hate to have to tell you these hard things, but you asked

me to act for you, and I am bound in common honesty to give you the result just as it is.” “You believe she really meant it?” “I am convinced she did and that nothing will make her change her mind.” “It’s all rot!” remonstrated Brooks, angry and aggrieved. “She knew she was talking rot too. She herself told me that nothing happened to her when she went to Williams*. She gave him some soft talk, cried a little maybe when she pleaded for me, and because he liked her he gave her the paper releasing me. That’s all there was to it It was as easy as rolling off a log, and I don’t see why she should still be making such a fuss about it, do you?” "I think I do. You took the chance that something might happen to her. You must have expected that It would, and you were prepared to shut your eyes so long as she got what you wanted. •'That’s what she can’t overlook.” “Then you think she did right in leaving me?” “That is a question rd rather not upon. It ain’t any part of what you asked me to do.” “But I want to know what you think.” “And I’d rather not express any opinions one way or the other. I’m a friend of both of you, and you ought not to ask me such a thing.” “Oh, you needn’t be afraid! You know as well as I do that something had to be done—done at once—and there was no other way out of It than by getting her to see Williams. In the morning it would have been too late. She’s making a mountain out of a molehill, and I shouldn’t wonder if you’ve been helping her, with your straitlaced ways.” “Thanks. I didn’t bring that subject up at all—never opened my mouth about it” “You must have rubbed her temper up the wrong way, then. I ought to have seen her myself. I might have known you’d bungle the whole business.” “Joe. I did the very best for you I could, the best I knew how. 1 can imagine how you'feel about it, and I’m sorry for you, real sorry for you.” Brooks made a savage dive for the matchbox and relit his cigar, that had gone out. “Look here, Jlmsy,” he said. "I don’t want your pity nor anybody else’s. I ought to have seen her myself, and then everything would have been O. K. I could have fixed it up with her In two minutes. I will see her at once. Give me the address.” “It would ’be.-Mseless and would only make matters Worse. I can’t.” "You mean you won’t?” "Well, I won’t, if you wish me to put it that way.” *,*You have no right to stand between a man and bls wife.” “No, Joe. and God Is |iy witness that I would not wittingly do such a thing for all earth has to offer.”

—Brooks rose excitedly, an ugiy scow! on his face. “There is some other motive for this,” be said, “and I’ll tell you what it Is. You don’t want us to come together again. It ain’t to your interest. You’re standing In with that mother of hers.” “You know that Is not true,” returned Smith earnestly. “I have done all I could for you.” “Yes, you have!” sneered Brooks. “Why don’t you want us to make up? Do you think I don’t know? Do you think I haven’t seen that you’ve been jealous of me ever since Emma turned you down? Do you”— “Joe!” Smith also rose and faced him, very white, all the kindliness gone from his visage. “Do you think I don’t know why you’ve been snooping around her skirts, installing yourself as one of the family in my home? I’m not blind when it doesn’t suit me to be, and I’ve had enough of being fooled and walked all over by everybody wanted to wipe their feet on me.” “Joe, my boy, you don’t know vghat you’re saying, and you’ll be sorry when you cool down,” “Sorry nothing!” Brooks shouted, beside himself with fury. “You make me sick with your slow talk and oily ways! What do you think I am? You'll give me that address this minute or by heck I’ll hack it out of your carcass!” Brooks picked up a jackknife which at the time of his arrival Smith had been using to cut the leaves of a book and rushed at him. Jlmsy’s big hands descended on both his assailant’s wrists. Brooks was strong, but he strained in vain in the grasp of iron. His right arm slowly weakened and twisted gradually until the fingers opened and with a groan of pain he dropped the blade. Smith continued to twist until he had wrung all the fight out of him and he had him limp and helpless. Then he let him go and picked up the knife. “You’d better leave weapons out of your arguments, Brooks, or you’ll sure be hurting somebody one of these days,” he recommended. “It’s danger-ous-dangerous to yourself as well.” Brooks, sullen and panting, dropped into a chair, tears of humiliation and baffled rage hovering tremulously in his eyes. “It was your fault—you drove me to it,” he declared. “It’s a mighty bad thing, as a general rule, to let your ill humor get away with your nerves,” chided Smith. “You have acted tonight like a petulant kid, Instead of like a man I’ve tried to help. You’ve put yourself out of court, and I’m through trying to do anything for you.” “And I’m through asking you to do anything for me,” Brooks retorted, jumping up and clapping his hat on his head. “I don’t want any more favors of the kind you’ve been handing out so smugly. I know what I’ve said tonight, and it doesn’t carry any apology with it either. You can all go plumb to Podunk, every one of you —you, my loving wife and the old woman. I’m through with the whole crowd for good and all.” He rushed out, bounded down the stairs, and the front door slammed violently. Smith lighted a cigar, solace and sedative of the wrought up man, and ruminated sadly for awhile. He thought of Emma, of the worthless husband to whom she was tied and of the false position all round in which he found himself as the result of his peacemaking effort Ah, God, how he loved her! With a weary sigh he fetched out plans and figures and began to work. It was hard to concentrate his mind, but application at length subdued the turmoil of his thoughts, and work, that "pledge of cheerful days and nights without a groan,” his unfailing narcotic for the perturbation of his spirit

absorbed him until tired nature coming to its support did the rest While Jlmsy Smith worked that he might forget Brooks, the beat of his anger cooled, sat down in bls lonely room to consider the unexpected change tn the situation. The failure of his plans was g blow* to him, but this time the pricking of the bubble of his optimism, which had soaren m-. high, instead of plunging him immediately into the gloomiest despondency, found its contrast in bitter Resentment

against bqfh his wife uud Smith. He cursed Smith for a fool and a blunderer. At least he did not believe the accusations he had hurled at him in his rage and disappointment He had never considered him in any other light than that of a good natured, old womanish friend of the family, who did anything for anybody and with whom anybody could take liberties. He could see nothing in him calculated to inspire any woman with more than ordinary liking and Indulgent toleration, not to* speak of Emma, and he never had had the slightest scruple in leaving them together. Her reception of his overtures had nracticatlv disnelled the clamour of romance In which he had clothed her in his visions, but he resolved to make one final attempt to soften her by means of a letter, and he set about it forthwith. It was an epistle of many pages, a melodramatic jumble of contrition and despairing supplication, for he was no master in the art of writing. But he was highly satisfied with it To make it the more impressive be blurred it here and there with drops of water, thinking this would, convey the idea that he had been moved to tears as he penned it. “If this doesn’t do the trick nothing will,” he muttered after he had perused it for the third time. “And if it doesn’t I’ll quit. She’ll never get another chance from me.” He addressed it to her, care of Jlmsy Smith, knowing the latter would see that it reached its destination. It came back under cover thrdugh the same medium, unopened, with the word “Defused” written large across the envelope in Beth’s handwriting. The word was a full confirmation of Jlmsy’s report of his mission. Brooks gnashed his teeth, banished his dreams of a renewal of happiness with his wife and clinched a resolution that had been forming in his mind as an alternative—to seek relief in another and facile love from the depression of his solitary existence. (To be Continued.)

Brooks picked up a jackknife and rushed at him "

The word “Refused” was written across the envelope.