Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 32, Number 265, 3 November 1907 — Page 7

(By Owen O'Neill.) Copywrlght, 1907, by W. R. Hearst. John Harrington, trillionaire, sat in the luxurious study of his palatial Fifth avenue home and 6tared at a letter that lay on the great walnut desk. He could command more millions than any other man in the history of the world, but he was plainly ill at ease. He it was who had taken over the postal service of the world and created the International Mall company, improving the delivery of letters and papers and deriving immense wealth from the monopoly of parcel carrying, which he had forced the express companies to surrender, and from the profits of which he had cheapened the cost of letter postage, national and international. His acute brain had foreseen the time when wireless telegraphy should fill the air with tremendous electrical impulses and render it valueless, and be it was who had found the solution Of the problem in the organization of the great International Atmospheric Right of Way company with privileges secured from every nation. When this great corporation became a fact the wireless telegraph companies were .iter eiemies, but as soon as It became necessary to secure air privileges from the International Atmospheric Company or else run the risk of paying huge penalties for trespassing on the air the difficulty was it an end. Harrington's expert examined all the different wireless systems and reported on Garkoni-Woods Wireless as the best. Harrington and hia friends immediately secured control of its stock, nd the International Atmospheric Eight of Way company forthwith contracted with the Karkoni-Woods company for exclusive use of the air for telegraphic purposes. He was now contemplating an international consolidation to control the Universal Elastic Ether, that elusive element which scientists say exists everywhere, and carries the light of the sun across millions of miles of otherwise empty space to warm the worlds. Experts for rival companies had been trying to prove that the International Atmospheric company had no rights over the universal elastic ether, and as communication was just about to be established with Mars this opening up another possible avenue of progress that John Harrington felt he could not afford to- neglect. But despite all these feas of finance, the great captain of industry was greatly worried. In the midst of luxury he was In trouble that evidently preyed heavily on his mind. The soft light from the radium bulb overhead ' blooded the room with daylike clearness, and brought out sharply the graceful lines of costly bronze, and the delicate tints of paintings that priced a prince's ransom. John Harrington, trillionaire, toyed with a gold letter-opener, but he frowned heavily as he bent over his desk and read and reread the letter that lay before him. Paper of good commercial quality, and typewriting elear and distinct. Nothing unusual at all about them. But the words burned into his brain in letters of fire. Dear John: You see I am able to carry out my promises. If in three days you have not complied with mv demands, I will take further action. Mnrv Sasewell is dead. JoseDh

jV& t o !M' J i tim

Phelps is dying. Unless by Saturday morning you have deposited a million dollars to my credit in the Buttermilk National bank, the next blow will fu'.l in your own household. I do not need to sign this, but you must know that I am in earnest. This was the grewsome thing that had unsettled the mind of John Harrington, trillionaire. Just ten days ago he had been sitting in his study after dinner, when a footman brought him the card of an old friend. James Elder, a man with whom he had discovered the mine in Montana that brought him the first sizable installment of his great fortune and enabled him to begin the financial operations that were to make him the richest man in the world. Elder seemed fairly prosperous, and together they spent an hour talking over old times. They recalled the weary days they had toiled in the bleak mountain wastes together only to find time after time that hick was against them. They reminded each other of the little differences they once had when both were rivals for the hand of pretty rose McCalmont, daughter of old Dan McCalmont. who would be the B-Har U ranch in the Calinas valley. They laughed over the time when Jack Smith's little weekly paper, the; Echo, had been burned out. and Jack had even lost his mailing list because it was written on the board wall of his shack. Late into the evening they sit and smoked and exchanged reminiscence?, until John Harrington had descante I on his success in life to the top of his bent, and it suddenly occurred to him to question his caller as to his present position and possessions. What followed was engraven on his mind in indelible letters. "John Harrington", said Elder, ' you have broached the very subject which brings me here tonight. "In some small degree success has attended me. but every time when by dint of application to business I have felt my feet firm on the first rungs of the ladder, some one of your combinations has stepped in at the ciitical moment and I have been forced to close up shop. "I am within ten years of your age, John, and if I do say it myself, I nave more brains than you have. But Lore I am with a wife and family, and after thirty years of hard work, economy, and sleepless planning to secure a fortune 1$ find myself with barely ten thousand dollars to my name. "I have decided to act differently in future, and the first step in the new direction is now about to be taken." The speaker paused to inhale a long pull from his cigar, and blew the fragrant smoke in a great cloud toward the radium bulb above his head. John Harrington, his hands folded across his paunch, sat back in his arm chair and eyed him reflectively. "He wants a loan," he thought to himself, and he was already considering means of excusing. Hut for once in his life John Harrington was wrong. The calm, even voice resumed. "This is what I am going to do, John. I am going to ask you to present me with a million dollars." Harrington's eyes opened wide and he glared through the whirl of smoke. He could hardly believe his ears. But there, just on the other side of his desk, sat James Elder, clean-shaven, immaculate in his evening clothes, a clear in his fingers, slightly bent

THE RICHMOND PALLADIUM AND SUX-TELEGRA3I, SUNDAY, XOVE3IBER 3,

forward and with his eyes fixed on Harrington's face. They burned with a strange fire, a baleful glitter that Harrington kept seeing all that night in his dreams and every waking moment lor a good many days thereafter. In the keen scrutiny that scanned his face Elder read John Harrington's idea. A faint smile relaxed his intent features. "No. John," he said. "You arc wrong. My mind is not unbalanced. I am not in the least insane. I am simply a man who has foughc to create something for himself and his wife and children and at every step has been confronted by the said wall of combination, barring the way to plenty. "Nine times I have tried, and nine times been denied. "This is the tenth time. This time T am going to bend my energies to another direction. Instead of creating I am going to destroy. Instead of building I am going to pull down structures that already exist. "You have made millions by crushing the life out of thousands of small competitors like myself, and in return I demand of you the million you refused to let mo earn with my own brain and brawn. '"Call it socialism, if that term pleases you better. . ""When will you be ready to pay over the million, John?" The trillionaire suppressed a chuckle. "I'm from Missouri," said he. "You've got to show me." "Thafs easy," answered Elder. "I will give you just three days to place that amount, to my credit at the bank. If at the end of that, time you have not done so, I will give you a demonstration of your helplessness and my rower. At the corner of Fifty-first street and Fifth avenue, just a few doors below here, lives Henry Caswell, your lifetime friend, and partner in many cf your schemes to enrich the few at the expense of the many. "If that million dollars is not to my credit in the Buttermilk National Bank before it closes three days from now, Henry Caswell will pay with his life for your refusal to comply with my request. Before noon of the next day he will have gone to meet his Maker." Harrington smiled an inward smile. "Don't think you can trifle with me, John," said Elder. "When I leave this house I will be completely out of your power. You haven't cne single atom of proof against me, and if you make any charges the police will think you are insane." "And if I refuse," said Harrington. "Then Henry Caswell's blood will be on your head," said Elder. "I refuse," said Harrington, defiantly. He touched the bell on his desk and a servant appeared. "Show Mr. Elder to the door," he ordered. "Good-night, James." he added, extending his hand. "Think that matter over and phone me in the morning that yon have changed your mind." When Elder had left the room Harrington rang again. "Bring me a brandy highball," he said to the man who answered, and when it came he tossed it off at a draught. "Ugh." he shivered. "That man Elder must be insane." But in his heart of hearts he knew that Elder had spoken truth, and he feared the unknown. The next day came and the next., Harrington went about his usual affairs steadily and calmly. Not a word had he snid to anyone of his curious

experience with James Elder, but whenever for a moment his mind turned from his business he found his thoughts of nothing so much as that Grave, clear-cut face intently gazing upon him through a whirl of smoke, and the earnest voice warning him of the penalty of refusal to be mulcted of a million. To do him justice Harrington was found in his rough way of Henry Caswell, but he was also fond of his millions, and the struggle within his breast was of short duration. Besides, he had not entire faith that Elder would be able to carry out his threat. And unknown to Caswell he engaged a score of private detectives to guard him, and made up his m:nd not to be frightened by such wild dreams. By the morning of the third day he had begun to feel reassured, and he walked into his office quite jauntily. The mail lay on his desk open for ready perusal, with the exception of one letter which was marked personal. With a sinking at heart, Harrington dropped into his chair. The paper and envelope were of good quality and the contents were typewritten. It was the first of the series, of which th third lay before him, at the time with which this brief history begins. "Dear John: I am sorry that you have not seen fit to comply with my request. By 6 o'clock this afternoon Henry Caswell will be dead. His blood be on your head. Joseph Phelps will be the next to go. XYZ. He sat dazed for a minute, but as his private secretary came into the room he gathered his scattered faculties and prepared to attend to business as usual. Several times during the morning he telephoned to Caswell, making the least pretext serve for calling him up. jle even invited him to come to luncheon, for John Harrington was no coward and they sat together in a corner of their downtown club until nearly 2 o'clock. Then they went back to their respective offices in the great building on lower Broadway, but Harrington could not sit easy, and presently he sent word to Caswell that he would like to consult with him over the matter of International Control of Universal Ekistic Ether. Caswell came, and on one pretext or another he kept him all the afternoon in his private office. Surely no harm could come to him there. As the hours ticked away he grew more cheerful, and when at last four o'clock struck he was positively buoyant. A great weight was on his mind. He scolded himself for ever having allowed such idle moonshine to upset him and when Caswell rose to go he felt really exuberant. More than an hour later he lingered to attend to business that had suffered from his state of mind earlier in the day. and then, descending by the elevator which landed the directors at their private entrance in the rear of the building, he entered his automobile to be whisked home. Within a few minutes he was rolling up Hadison avenue, when, happening to remember a promise to attend a meeting of the directors of his club, he drew up at the door and alighted. A scant half hour completed his business there and he started once more to resume the homeward journey. The obseqtiious hall boy swung open the great door. His chaff eur stool wating by the big machine, and Harrington's foot was on the step. He had just seated himself when a newsboy came running across from Broadway with a bundle of papers un

der his arm shouting at the top of his lungs. "Wuxtry! Wuxtry! 'Ere's ycr poiper, gent. All about the millionaire killed in his auto. Explosion kills Henry Caswell, the Wall street magnate. John Harrington sank back faint against the cushioned seat, white to the lips and with an awful clutching at his heart. "Home," he cried to the chauffeur. "Quick. Quick. Home:" The blow had fallen. James Elder was no longer a dream, bn. an awful reality, and John Harrington was no longer the trillionaire, but for a moment a mere man. As the hugh machine sped swiftly he heard other newsboys crying the same awful refrain, and his brain hummed with the one idea. The blow had fallen. James Elder had carried out his threat. Still in a daze, John Harrington secluded himself in his study, and demanded the evening papers. He steadied himself to read the story of Henry Caswell's death. Eagerly he perused the varying accounts, but nowhere did he find a single suspicion or a single clue to anything but an accident. Caswell had been bowling home in hi.s automobile when without the least warning its boiler exploded, and the unfortunate man had been torn almost to bits. The chauffeur was nowhere to be found, and the newspapers threw the blame on him. and expressed the opinion that he had fled to escape the consequences of his ignorance or neglect. To the world at large it looked like an accident, but John Harrington knew as well as he knew his own name that he and he alone was directly responsible for the death of his partner and friend of many years. Yv'hen the full realization was borne in upon him he dashed the papers to the floor, and bowed his head upon his hands and wept. The next day and the following passed. Harrington had summoned every atom of courage and every ounce of brain power to his aid. and presented his accustomed front to the world, but the awful secret gnawed at his hart. He could not sleep: he could not pa:. His business affairs he conducted automatically, and with the morning of the third day he found himself in a very bad condition physically and mentally. Joseph Phelps was next on Elder's list. Harington tried to make himself believe that the death of Caswell was really a remarkably coincident accident, but when he reached his office on the morning of the third day his determination vanished as his eyes fell on an envelope on his desk. At a glance he knew it must be from the man who had demanded a million dollars as the price of immunity for Henry Caswell. Feverishly he tore it open and devoured its brief contents. Deary John You saw what happened to Caswell. Unless that million is iu my bank before it closes today Mr. Phelps will have ceased to enjoy this mundane sphere by the time you sit down to your dinner this evening. X. Y. Z. The strain was almost too much for mortal man to bear, but John Harrington was not cf the- sort that bend until they are broken, and he strove against the fear that was gnawing at his heart in. spite of his determination that Caswell's death had been accidenal and Elder was simply taking advantage of it to work on his fears.

1907.

The day wt..: It was the longest day i ti n had ever known. it him vaguely of one time when he and Elder had lain for hours in the full heat of the terrible "rNH h"u- Min.ulluu u? muiau. fcuifering the agonies of thirst unutterable and expecting every minute would be the last. This time he did not seek the society of the man whom Elder had named as hi.s victim. He did not telephone him. TJ-.,, . ! .1 1 11 .1 1 11 jjui. cinj nun? ine ueii houuueu a. can ve ieii nis nerves draw to a snapping point. It was exactly like that terrible hot day when occasional bullets came spattering up from the concealed Indians, and they waited for the rush wnicn would end their suspense-and their lives But nothing happened. The hands of the electric clock crept around to 4 in the afternoon, and Harrington left his office for his home. At the eleva-

tor he met Joseph Phelps, straight and before him he saw Joseph Phelp, stalwart, keen of eye. and lithe and stricken down in the prime of his manstrong of figure. They went down to- hood, a mysterious victim of aome get her. , mysterious fatality. "Better ride up with me," suggested ThG ambulance surgeon shook h!i Harrington, on the impulse of the mo-.nead doubtfully when Harrington aa ment. He would land Phelps safe a cd him whether the Injuries-were fahis own door and then nothing could talpossibly happen to him. Elder would The f"ni'y physician. Dr. Burleigh, attempt nothing while they were to- came within a few minutes and he. gether for fear he might injure or kiil to- loked grave, and promised nothHarrington and thus destroy all hope im more than the best of attendance of future profit. and some hope of recovery. Together they entered the big red And HarrInton. knowing surely automobile., Together they traversed that James Elder was the real 8'ayer the familiar route to their homes in and that he cou,d have Baved the " the same Fifth avenue block And of two raen by the MPnditure of nothing untoward happened raltry railI,on. shrank fearfully from John Harrington saw his friend step every shadow. and felt h,8.h rt briskly from the machine, run lightly to water in hls brea8t and hU Mo01 up the steps and wave his hand as the run cold " h,f vfm8' . v door swung shut behind him. Half Joseph Phelps ami. summoned by an hour later he saw him come down telegraph from his home at Rye forthe steps, take the bridal from a tunately arrived at that moment n4 groom, vault into the saddle and set off murmuring confused explanation. an for ht -..ii,. of, 4 it apologies, John Harrington toolc hit

park. Harrington pondered an hour in his study, and then dressed for dinner. His only child. Florence had come home that day from Europe, and they were to dine together. Harrington's wife had died when Florence was born and the girl was his one tenderness. All her life he had watched over her and guarded her like a treasure without price, and to-night he was to welcome her back to the home that had been so lonely without her. Presently he descended the stairs and entered the library, across the hail from the big dining room. There Florence came to meet him. father. I am so glad to be home again. e said, as she threw her.f into his arms.

And your lonesome o. dad is more upon him like a pa. He forced Wmthan glad to see his Jutle girl." an- Belf to calrfl. even alm08t y, ag b, swered Harrington, as he swept her taJked to hig danghter about her sumsoft cheek with his grizzled stubby mer abroad and trled to goot n!r moustache. f,PC QKrmt t Ph;n wtth fc.if.

They had reached the second course of their meal when the telephone bell rang violently. A servant brought word that Harrington was wanted at l.ir jjiiuii'i. "Who is it? and fearful. he as Ked, dubiously Mrs. Phelps, answered the -man, SW Very lrrrtant" ly v,52,5 e millionaire as he stumbled across tae hall, -is there no escape?His voice shook ,.s he spoke over me wire. .urs. rneiys could hardly make herself understood through her tears. "Mr. Harrington," sho said, "I have just received word that Mr. Phelps has been very seriously injured while

PAGE SEVETf.

riding his horse In Central Pari Can you come over?" SlII)pressing a groan he prom,80d to comp at onCQ an(J &fU;r excuslng hlm, 8elf to hia daughter 8ilpped ,nto aa overcoat and hastened to his neigh bor's house. Mrs. Phelps Informed Harrington that she had just received a message) from the police that her husband bad been found unconscious near the west side of the Park, his horse standing beside him and that she feared the worst Within a few minutes the tmbuance wag at the door and Jogepn Pheps was borne senseless Into the house he had left les, than three hours before in the best of health and the gayest spirits. Harrlngton's soul was wrung within him. In the big house at the corner lay the dead body of Henry Caswell, and leave and went back to his own jome. As he let himself in he heard hia daughter's voice lifted in song. She was in the music room, and from her lips floated the entrancing melody 6t an old Spanish ballad, full of lora and life and the sweetness of everything. But to the heart of John Harrington his daughter's song was like sounding brass and tinkling cymbals. For a moment he slipped Into tba library and sat down to collect himself. Then he went on up tat his daughter with a fierce access of raga at this destiny of death that followed so implacably. As he stood at the door drinking , mont it,. ,.,.. tht . mm, Dui ine suag tuiutu an iw uun truths that promised "what the doctors dared not hope. T.nt ui-hon Flnrenro ha1 enn tr J0T room3 he went to hls gtudy and nting himself Into hi3 chair with a gesture of utter wearlness an1 despair. John Tt iT-r inert nn tHJlirtnaJro In hmrT wag near vIng way to hygteHa, something that was about as foreign rto hJg nature a3 the rogebagh to the desert For hours he sat and pondered, and at ,ast he roge look of deter. mination on his massive face, and

went to his room. Not to sleeps his brain waatoo busy for that but to revolve every point of thia strange Continued on Paze Eight!