Jasper County Democrat, Volume 14, Number 67, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 November 1911 — Page 6

THE MAN HIGHER UP

By HENRY RUSSELL MILLER

chapter XIIL THE GAUNTLET. WHEN Eleanor Sanger was married she was a bright rather highly strung and decidedly spoiled girl of nineteen. Marriage proved a bitter awakening. Six months, revealing to her both in their own intimate relations and in what she learned of his other life the weak sensuality of her husband, sufficed to transform her into a cold, self contained woman of an acidulous cynicism startling in one of her years. It was the weakness of the maD more than his immorality that repelled her. She herself came of an active, sturdy stock whose virility and power of resistance had not been destroyed by generations of self indulgence. Her experience discovered to her the existence of inherited ideals heretofore dormant in her. in the apparent impossibility of seeing those ideals realized in her own life she wa3 becoming bitter and reckless when the incubus on her life was suddenly removed, two years after her.marriage, by the pistol of a jealous Viennese. When her uncle reached her he found a stony eyed, icy woman who laughed bitterly at his proffered sympathy, but acquiesced indifferently in whatever he proposed. Then he atoned in part for his unwise guidance of her youth. The management of his great business interests he placed in the competent hands of Henry Sanger, Jr.. Eleanor’s brother, and devoted himself entirely to her. For three years they traveled as her whims dictated. Mr. Sanger, anxiously watching, saw the natural resiliency of youth gradually breaking down ber hardness of spirit Selfish she remained. as was the logical result of a lack of definite purpose in life other than to amuse herself and to forget Then Mr. Sanger died, leaving the bulk of his fortune to Henry Sanger. Jr., to Eleanor a comparative pittance. This curtailment of her inheritance was at her request A quiet year in Germany, spent studying music, followed. and then she returned to the Steel City to play her part in the making of Robert McAdoo. Late in the afternoon, the day of Bob’s talk with Paul concerning her. Mrs. Gilbert sat before a luxurious log fire in her .own particular den. In a box by her side was an armful of roses, which she was arranging in a huge glass bowl. When the roses were bestowed to her satisfaction she reread the note that had accompanied them, smiling at some sentiment expressed by the writer.

“You poor, romantic boy!” she said aloud. “ODe expects every minute that your conversation and letters will break Into blank verse. I wish—l dpn't know what I wish.” she conclnded Resentfully. “But whatever it is. it’s fairly certain that I can’t have It. Just as I thought I had achieved content I meet two men absolutely out of my sphere, and the one stirs up the old. uncertain longings, which he can’t satisfy. and the other stirs up the old wicked recklessness that I had thought dead forever.” She sighed impatiently. A half hour later she stood by the window, her eyes mechanically following the figure of a man walking up the street. When the pedestrian came to the Sanger entrance he turned in and walked with swift decided steps toward the bouse. Then Eleanor recognised him. she gasped in astonishment and with a hint of dismay in her voice. , She hastily left the window. There was a knock at the door, and the butler entered. “Mr. McAdoo to see you. madam.” “Show Mr. McAdoo into the library. Thomas.” she replied after a moment’s hesitation. “And I shall not home the rest of the afternoon.” Why had Bob come to see Mrs. Gilbert? Bob himself was trying to answer the same question. Blindly he felt that one of his possessions was threatened and that he must fight with a woman for supremacy over Paul. The portieres were parted, and she stood before him. Bob realized resentfully that here was a very beautiful womap. far more beautiful than either Kathleen Flinn or Mrs. Dunmeade. the only women of finer type he knew. For the fraction of a second while she paused on the threshold there was the same fencing of glances with which they had in the theater—the adver saries’ salute —then her eyes softened to an amused gleam. While Bob stood still she went over to him. “I’ve been trying to decide wheth er this is a pleasant or unpleasant surprise,” she smiled quizzically. “Which is it?” She held out her hand Bob looked at the outstretched hand and shook his head cojdiy The hand was at once returned to her side “You persist in the hostile attitude T “Why not? Let us have no false pretenses I dislike you; you dislike which he—he ma&es we want to ac quire. Tm not tn love with him. but Td like to tie. Be seems my only )K>p« of escape from becoming the

me. If we sEjck iu mat- it will simplify matters “How do you know 1 don’t like you?” The amused gleam in her eyes deepened.

“God forbid!*' he ejaculated Involuntarily. "Bat,” he added grimly, “there’s no danger." •‘Don’t be too sure of that,” she warned him in gay malice. “Von know nothing wins a woman’s liking so quickly as resistance. If you're not careful 1 may end by liking you. That would be a terrible predicament—ts we’re to be ene^toies.” “It would!” _

•‘Yes. for yon," she .flashed back. “Because then 1 should have’to make you like me But don’t be nervous. 1 shan’t try. You’re more interesting as—yon are.” “I am relieved.” She noted with surprise that his ironical bow waa easy and not ungraceful “There have been men who feared to displease me. Mr. McAdoo.”

“I’ve no doubt there are such men." And Bob’s tone did not convey a high tribute to the class. “But 1 don’t happen to be one of them.” “Nor am I afraid of yon, Mr. McAdoo." she countered. “T was for one moment that day in the theater. Yon startled me. having caught me”— “Having caught you in a contemptible act." he interrupted quietly. “Trying to cast doubt upon the sincerity of a man who was a total stranger to you.” The amused gleam died out of her eyes. She flushed angrily. “I have a constitutional antipathy for men of your type. Mr. McAdoo.” “People don’t do that sort of thing merely because of constitutional antipathy. i had done nothing to harm yon. You had nothing to gain by attacking my motives—of which yon could know nothing—or by making Paul Remington discontented with his advancement, as yon have persisted in doing since. The women I know don’t do that sort of thing. Even men of my sort whom yon despise”—there was a trace of bitterness in these last words—“would call it contemptible.” “Yon are right.” she said quietly. “It was contemptible, and 1 have been ashamed of myself ever since. I was ashamed when yon canght me at it. 1 had no right to do it no excuse. I apologize."

An ugly sneer twisted his mouth a 3 he replied. “It’s easy enough to apologize. but what good is it after the mischief is done?*

“I hardly expected you to be generous,” she answered his sneer gravely. “But now—what? You didn’t come here merely to convict me of a dishonorable act, I suppose?” “Hardly. I’m a busy man. 1 suppose I came to make a useless request ” “What Is the request or is it a command?”

He looked at her steadily for a minute before he answered. She saw the line of his Ups become thinner and the muscles of his jaw tighten. “To let Paul Remington go.” “It seems.” she replied mockingly, “that Mr. McAdoo in spite of his boasted friendship cares nothing for the happiness of his friend.”

“Yon won’t understand.” he said at last slowly, “when I explain it. You’re right when you say I care nothing for his happiness—at least what you mean by the word. You don’t mean happiness. Mrs. Gilbert. You mean to glut the appetite, to yield to the mating instinct to follow the lines of least resistance. Only the very strong can afford happiness as yon mean it. To a weak man that sort of happiness means crippling his natural force, enslaving himself to outside influences. There is only one true happiness—the content that comes from being a real, original force. The man who would be this. Mrs. Gilbert must own and control himself absolutely. For Paul Reining ton’s greater, true happiness 1 do care.” t4 Bot what about me?”

“He is nothing to you." “As you mean it no—just now. But for the future, why not? Yon never can tell. Mr. Remington is talented. ! He is magnetic. I like him better than I like most men. It is quite possible that I shall in time develop a deeper interest in him. And. besides. Mr. ! McAdoo. your opposition gives him a new value. Did yon forget to consid- ! er when you came to ask me to send him away what about my happiness?” ; She conclnded her question with a smile. ~ “Mrs. Gilbert, yonr happiness did not. does not. enter into my calculations at all.” Winter’s early dusk was falling outside. leaving only the firelight to light the room. She was very beautiful as the soft glow fell upon her face. “We’re a good deal alike, yon and L You have taken everything yon want. I’ve been given everything except the things that count most. We’re both very selfish. You make the excuse that you have to be selfish to realize your ambitions. 1 have the excuse that life hasn’t treated me very kind ly. and neither excuse is valid. I suspect You're uot a slave to conscience, and I—welL I’m afraid I’U never let conscience stand between me and happiness. You have few friends. I’ve/ had plenty to admire me because I’m not had to look at and eun turn a witty phrase occasionally. Bnt none has ever cared for me bjecause none saw in me those womanly qualities which are so much liner than beauty or wit Paul Remington seems to fill both wjfbts. He is yonr one friend. He cares for me because he thinks l possess qualities 1 don’t possess, bnt most pitiable oi ,liras —a lonely, cynical, selfish.- lovrirw woman. I wonder why l tell yon this?” She leaned forward abruptly. “WBEt are

we going to do about it?" “That is what I came to find out" you came to tell me what I must do. You put the issue squarely. One of ns must retire in the other's favor. That amounts to a challenge, doesn’t it? It’s too bad we have this dislike to contend with. Your natural state is fighting, and I suppose you don’t mind one fight more. But I don’t want to fight for my happiness or possible happiness, especially when I run the risk of losing it altogether. We both run that risk. Don’t yon think”—there was the faintest twinkle In her eyes—“don’t you think it would be wise, don’t yon think it would be good politics, to ignore our dislike and share the sjioils?” “No. I think 1 should have done better to let you die in the mills.”

“I don’t understand why”— For an instant the lnxnrious. firelit library faded away from her sight. She stood amid the grime and roar of the mills. She felt herself caught in an iron grasp which dragged her toward death. Then a Strong band seized her, and she stood before a hot eyed yonng giant. “Is it possible? Yes, yon are the man who saved me in the mills. It is hard to realize. He was an nncouth, ungrammatical young ruffian, as I remember. while yon—you are an educated”— She hesitated. «

“An educated ruffian.” he concluded dryly. She regarded him with a new respect, a respect which Bob. remembering the girl who had flouted him as of a lower order of creation, resented. “I’m no more than I was Hun. I have more, but I am no more.” A detail of the scene in the mills re-

curred to her. “Ah! I remember that I forgot to thank you for saving my life. That was very ungrateful. I suppose I should do so now. It really was very good of-you.” “You needn’t thank me. Besides.” he added grimly, “it was unintentional, I assure you—purely an impulse.” She laughed uncertainly. “But surely you can’t expect me to remain at swords’ points with the man who saved my life?" His face hardened. “Then keep out of my way.” “You mean it,” she said in a curiously regretful tone. “That is part of you. I remember you said the same to me that night in the mills. ‘Keep out of my way.’ It explains your life, doesn’t it? You have gone steadily, relentlessly forward, brushing aside every one who stood in your way. And now that I seem to interfere with your plans you are quite capable of sweeping me aside, or Mr. Remington either, without thought of what it means to us. You are relentless! Suppose,” she asked slowly, “suppose I were to send him away, would you take it as a mark of gratitude for saving my life as a favor to you?”

Bob hesitated. After all, it was the easiest solution, and sometimes concession is victory. And she was very beautiful, very alluring, so far out of his reach. With an effort he recalled his resentment against her and the old prideful belief in bis self sufficiency. “No! You owe me nothing, and I want no favors from you.” They both rose. Mrs. Gilbert facing him with a laugh in her eyes. “So be it." she said pleasantly. “I must accept your hostility. You pay me a fine compliment. Mr. McAdoo. The truth is you’re jealous—jealous as a schoolgirl. Mr. McAdoo. And afraid —of me. I can be a very dangerous enemy—if I choose. If 1 should choose to accept your iilenge and to take away from you your dearest possession—your happiness, Mr. McAdoo — you would be helpless to prevent it. You have no weapons to fight me. And you know it. Else why are yon here today?" She laughed.

“I wish to God,” he cried bitterly. “I had let you die in the mills!” Smiling, she watched him turn and leave her. Then she sat down before the fire, looking into its flames with amused eyes. The gleam of amusement faded into reflectiveness, reflectiveness into wistfulness. She sighed. (To be continued.)

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’’For the sunshine and the rain. For the dew and for the shower. For the yellotv. ripened grain. And the golden harvest hour. We bless Thee, oh, our Godl ”For the heat and the shade. For the gladness and the grief, For the tender, sprouting blade. And for the nodding sheaf, We bless Thee, oh, our Godl "For the hope and for the fear, For the storm and for the peace. For the trembling and the cheer. And for the glad increase, We bless Thee, oh, our God! "Our hands have tilled the sod. And the torpid seed have sown: But the quickening was of God, And the praise be His alone. We bless Thee, oh, our Godl **

minnie's Thanksgbing

By Donald Allen

pp.- ' I was a girl, I wouldn’t go j |Jsl|gJ| walking too far,” said old l Uncle Robert, as a girl of twenty passed him on her mm way down t° the gate of " the farm house. “And why not?” she asked, as she almost came to a pause. “Well, according to my idea, it’s going to rain and snow and blow and hail, and when the storm does break, she’s going to be a buster." “I wanted to go to the postoffice to mail a letter.” “It’s three miles there and back, and if I was you I’d put it off. Mebbe somebody’ll be passing that you can . send by. Tomorror’s Thanksgiving, j you know, and we are going to have j the awfulest, biggest, nicest dinner ! anybody ever sat down to. It’s in l your honor, you know. There’ll be a j turkey, a duck and a chicken; there’ll j be cranberry sass, pumpkin pies, currant jell, sweet cider and apple dumplins; there’ll be—” “I think 11l just walk a little ways, anyhow,” said the girl, as she opened j the gate and passed down the highj way toward the village and the railj road depot. j “And if you come home as wet as a hen don’t say I didn’t warn ye. It’s , going to come, and it’s going to be a buster.”

Half an hour later a middle-aged •woman with a motherly face and voice came out on the steps and asked: “Pa, do you reckon it’s goin’ to storm?” “Sure as ducks.” “Where’s Minnie?” “O, she’s gone for a santer. I give her warning. What’s she wantin’ to mail a letter for? I hain’t mailed a letter nor got one in twenty years, and I guess I’m about as well off as must folks. I was going to ask her but forgot It.” “Don’t you ask her a word about it,” cautioned the wife as she came down to him. “I guess Minnie’s got something on her mind, but it hain’t none o’ your business.” “Something on her mind, eh? That’s funny. Didn’t know that girls ever had anything on their minds except new clothes. Is that why she come visiting us all of a sudden?” “None o’ your business! I guess my own sister’s daughter can come and see me any time she takes a notion, and that without writing ahead. What's on her mind, as nigh as I can make out, is about a young man. They are engaged, and they’ve had a falling out, and she’s sorter run away from him to find out if he really cares for her.” "And she’s got scared about it and has written him a letter to tell where she is?” queried the husband. “Go on! It’s probably a letter to her ma, though I didn’t see it nor ask. I hope she didn’t start for town. It’s going to storm for sure, and there hain’t but one house on the road where she could find shelter. Look down the road and see if you fan see her.” ' “Can’t see hide nor hair of any girl,” reported Uncle Robert after going out to the highway and taking a long look. An hour later, with both uncle and aunt fidgeting about their girl visitor, the gray afternoon had become twilight. In 15 minutes there was cold rain and lively hail, and Uncle Robert was blown into the kitchen. Miss Minnie had reached town and ; mailed her letter and started back again when the storm broke. Before it came she thought she could make out a human figure on the road ahead of her, but wasn’t sure. The very first gust picked her up i and turned her around and deposited her under a roadside tree. She remained there until the gale began to whip the branches off, and then let go her hold -and ran for it She hadn’t gone a quarter of a mile when, as she crouched and covered her face, she was struck by a falling limb and knew no more. • '

It was the dim sight of the girl and the scream she uttered when hit, that sent the man who eras clinging to the roadside fence back into the highway. ■ He bent over the unconscious form and picked it np and staggered back to the fence and followed it until he saw a light and found the gate of a farmhouse.

His lusty calls for help soon brought out a man, and the senseless burden was carried into the house and received by a woman. “I don’t know who she is, but I found her in the road,” explained her rescuer. ‘‘There is blood on her hair, and I think she was struck down.”

“We’ll do all we oan,” replied the man and woman together, “but you mUSsTfi't look for much. We are mighty poor folks. We hain’t got no camphor nor whisky, and as for getting a doctor out from town —it can’t be done tonight." The girl was carried into the only bedroom and laid on the only bed, and when her wet clothing had been removed and she was between the sheets, the woman got a cloth and a basin of water and washed away the blood and whispered to the stranger:

“I don’t think she’s bad hurt. She’s just fainted away with the ftcare of it. When she opens her eyes I’ll tell her to go to sleep, and she’ll be all right In the morning.” “Do you think it’s some young lady from the village?” asked the stranger of the farmer as they talked in whispers in the outer room. “No, I don’t reckon so. I reckon it’s that new girl that arrived at Turner’s a few days ago. I saw her going towards the village two hours ago.” “Arrived at Turner’s! Say, man, are you sure? Is it a strange girl to the neighborhood?” ‘ I’ve heard say it was Uncle Bob’s niece, and that she come from the city. What ails you, stranger? Does this storm upset you?”

It wasn’t the storm. Percy Kincaid had quarreled with the girl he loved and had asked to be his wife. It was about nothing, almost, as most lovers’ quarrels are, but pride on either side held off a reconciliation until the lover finally learned that Miss Minnie had gone on a journey and left no word for him.

She was going to spend Thanksgiving week in the country. Within two days she had relented; within three he was making every effort to locate her, that he might patch up a peace. He had succeeded. He was going to throw himself on her mercy and ask Uncle Robert for a place at his Thanksgiving table. The storm grew fiercer as the night advanced. When another day came even the cattle could not face the storm nor man move from his door. It was Thanksgiving day. At Uncle Robert’s there was a feast to be spread;

"I don’t believe they’d eat a single mouthful.”

at Bradley’s there was hardly better than poorhouse fare. But the victim of the accident was no longer in bed, and the rescuer no longer cared about the weather, and the farmer folks looked at each other and smiled and whispered: “Even if we had turkey and cranberry sauce I don’t believe they’d eat a single mouthful. They’ve just sorter found each other and are tickled to death.” And when at last they could make their way to Turner’s, and Uncle Bob stuttered and Aunt Harriet cried for joy, Miss Minnie asked in a way that was almost heartless: ..‘‘Why do you take on so? I never had such a lovely Thanksgiving in all my life!”

Honor Belongs to Pilgrim Fathers.

Long before the advent of the Pilgrims in Massachusetts all rituals contained expressions of gratitude to God for his mercies. In that of the Church of England special prayers were provided for the Sunday service. This service, however, must be carefully distinguished from the Thanksgiving day of the Pilgrim fathers. Failure to make this distinction has led to~ the groundless claim that the Popham colonists were “the first to keep Thanksgiving day” in America. The service at Monhegan, on which this claim is based, was the regular Sunday service of the Church of England; and while it had an element of thanksgiving, the day can in nowise be regarded as a Thanksgiving day as that term is understood. Cotemporary evidence refutes all claim to the contsar*.

— t B IE I 111 Ht ■! if 11 Chicago to Northwest, Ir.dianapolts, Cincinnati and the South. Louisville and French’ Lick Springs. RENSSELAER TIME TABLE. In Effect August 27, 1511 O - SOUTH BOUND. No.3l—Fast Mail (daily) 4:40 a. m. No. s—Louisville Mail (daily). 11:05 a. m. 50.37 —Chicago to Cincinnati. 11:30 a. m. N 0.3 Mail (daily). 1:35 p. m. N 0.39 —Milk Accom (daily)... 6:02 p. m. No. 3 —Chicago to Louisville. .11:55 p. m. NORTH BOUND. No. 4—Mail (daily) 4:53 a- m. No.4o —Mi.k Accom (daily).. 7:35 a. m. No.32—last Mail (daily) 10:05 a.m. No.3s—lnd'polis to Chicago.. 2:48 p. m. No. 6 —Mail and Ex. (daily).. 3:15 p. m. N 0.30 —Ind'polis to Chi. Mail 5:44 p. ra. Passengers for C. H. & D. points, or all points beyond Indianapolis should take train No. 37 from here as Indianapolis is now the terminal for Nos. X and 33. ’ No. 4 will stop at Rensselaer to let off passengers from points south off Monon, and take passengers for Lowell.' Hammond and Chicago. Nos. 31 and 33 make direct connections at Monon for Lafayette. W. H. BEAM. Agent, Rensselaer.

OFFICIAL DIRECTORY. CITY OFFICER*. Mayor G. F. Meyers Marshal .....George Mustard Clerk... Cfaas Morlan Treasurer R. D. Thompson Attorney Moss Leopold Civil Engineer W. F. Osborne Fire Chief J. J. Montgomery Fire Warden C. B. Stewart Councilmen. Ist Ward George Hopktrur ?nd Ward......................E1xie Grow 3rd Ward......... Harry Kresler At Large..........C. J. Dean, A. G. Gate JUDICIAL. Circuit Judge........Chariee W. Hanley Prosecuting Attorney..,,..Fred LongweD Terms of Court —Second Monday to February, April, September and November. Four week terms. COUNTY OFFICERS. C1erk........ Charles C. Warner Sheriff .W. L Hoover auditor... James N. Leatbermaa Treasurer J. D. annum Recorder. J. W. Tutoo surveyor..... ....W. F. Osoorne Coroner W. J. Wright Supt. Public Schools Ernest I siaansi County Assessor John Q. Lewis Health Officer.... ...15. N. Loy COMMISSIONERS. Ist Di5trict.................. John Pettet 2nd District....... Charles F. Stackhouse 3rd District Charles T. Denham Commissioners’ Court—First Monday of each month. COUNTY BOARD OF EDUCATION. T ruatees T o wnshlp Wtn. Foigar.. ...Barkley Claries May... * Carpenter J. W. Selmer GUiam George Parker Hanging Grove W. H. Wortley Jordan Tunis Snip... Keener John Shlrer nankakee Edward Parklson Marion George L. Parka MUroy J. Lane Newton Isaac Kight Union Albert Keene... WheatfieliS Fred Karch Walker Brneet Lem son. Co. Supt Rensselaer E. C. English,.. Rensselaer James H. Green Remington Jeo. O. Stembel Wheatfleld I Truant Officer. .C. B. Stewart. Rensselaer TRUSTEES’ CARDS. JORDAN TOWNSHIP. The undersigned trustee of Jordan Township attends to official business at his residence on the First and Third Wednesday of each month. Peraone having business with me will please govern themselves accordingly. Poetoffice address, Rensselaer, Ind., R-R-4. W. H. WORTLEY, Trustee. NEWTON TOWNSHIP. The undersigned trustee of Newton township attends to official business at his residence on the First and ThlrdT Thursdays of each month. Persons having business with me will please govern themselves accordingly. Postoffice addr* as, Rensselaer. Ind., R-R-3. E. P. LANE. Trustee. UNION TOWNSHIP. The undersigned trustee of Unls&. township attends to official business at his store In Fair Oaks on Fridays of each week. Persons having business with me will please govern themselves accordingly. Postoffice address. Fair Oaks. Indiana. ISAAH EIGHT

IM [lit i>. Pi (llf El AT REASONABLE RATES Your property in City, Town, Village or Farm, against fire, lightning or wind; your livestock against death or theft, and YOUR AUTOMOBILE against fire from any cause, theft or collision. Written on the cash, single note or installment plain. AO Losses Paid Promptly. Call ’Phone 208 or write for a good policy in a good company. RAY D. THOfIPSON Rensselaer, Ind. 111 HI. - DEALES IN lie Hi Hi i Hill. 1 ’VWWWV RENSSELAER, lID. .