Galveston Tribune. (Galveston, Tex.), Vol. 29, No. 66, Ed. 1 Thursday, February 11, 1909 Page: 4 of 8
This newspaper is part of the collection entitled: Galveston Tribune and was provided to The Portal to Texas History by the Rosenberg Library.
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©AJLYESTON ITSLB'CTTEj THURSDAY.
ar
done.
Preparing for the Inauguration
rea-
(
H-how can it be
$
(
diate cause.
i
Sel-
3
IB
7/
ance.
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7
^7
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l
Uncle Sam—I’ll fix this old town up so Bill Taft’ll be proud of it.
.(>■
FOOLISH WAR TALK
<»
of yesterday. But if Texas doesn’t ob-
ject no one else should.
Too bad that the “yellows” could not.
Gerald sat
“May
men
of the
alien
What was it,
can
a
Chapter 17
foreign
r g
get Taft sunk in the Gulf of Mexico.
They tried hard enough.
And Texas pays her state senators $5
a day to engage in a gabfest like that
by the
United
people have been aware of the inci-
dent for some time.
The Quantity of wounded feelings at
Austin was increased considerably yes-
terday, but no real harm was done.
The average woman is inclined to ex.
aggerate—except when speaking about
her age.
Entered at ths Postoffice in Galveston as
Second-Class Mail Matter.
TRIBUNE TELEPHONES:
Business Office---------
Business Manager
Circulation Dep’t —...
Editorial Rooms
President -
City Editor
Society Editor ........
Published Every Week Day Afternoon at
The Tribune Building, 22d and Post-
office Sts., Galveston, Texas.
& <7
i
Eastern Office:
JOHN P. SMART,
Direct Representative, 150 Nassau Street,
’r Room 628, New York City.
Any erroneous reflections upofithe stand-
ing, character or reputation of any person,
firm or corporation, which may appear in
the columns of The Tribune, will be gladly
corrected upon its being brought to the
attention of the management.
PER WEEK , ,10c
PER YEAR ....$5.00
Sample Copy Free on Application.
Ah, Phil,
And all, all my own
ALIXE.
By ROBERT W. CHAMBERS,
Author of "The Fighting Chance," Etc.
7 Dr
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I
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83
.83-2 rings
1396
.49
.49-2 rings
1395
2524
TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION
Delivered by carrier or by mail, postage
prepaid:
A,
/
GALVESTON TRIBUNE
(Established 18S0.)
s
i
s
e
e
e
e
a
e
more
those
■W
s-/ IS- i
<r,
77
If there are any untold Lincoln
stories they will surely be brought to
light before the end of the week.
-------------»------------
SANCTUM SIFTINGS
question which make it one of
significance than it appears to
far removed from personal con-
tact with the problem, and it is be-
lieved that these details can be and
these people from the Far East
are earning a livelihood in the land of
the free.
If congress keeps on tampering with
affairs in the Panama canal zone it will
be more than 33 months before the big
ditch is completed.
7
on the edge of the bed.
stood there, eyes swollen, hair in dis-
order and collar crushed and the white
iTS
OPTIMISM OR FOOLISHNESS?
Austin Statesman.
Austin. is wearing the smile that
won’t come off on account of the fact
that the future of this town is assured
and it is going to be a grand future at
that.
SLUSH!
Cleburne Enterprise.
Soon the people will have no rights
or privileges the reformers will not
SCRUMPTIOUS.”
Temple Telegram.
Wouldn’t it be “perfectly grand” to
have Ben Shelton and a "Bollweevils'’
baseball team again?
At last Congressman Rainey realizes
that he has been elected to membership
in the Ananias club. The rest of the
MIGHT TRY IT.
Anahuac Progress.
A statistician has figured that sixty-
seven murders out of every one hun-
dred may be traced directly to the “pis-
tol toting” habit. The proposition to
force “pistol toters” to wear badges
may have a fine point in it after all.
Two^orderly lynchings in one day.
One ift Texas and one in Mississippi.
Pretty soon invitations will be issued
for these occasions.
TTT
FEBRUARY 11. 1909.
Too bad ' that < the California legis-
lature cannot devote itself to limiting
sales of cigarettes and regulating hotel
accommodations.
-----t-------
The trouble is that putting the beef
trust on the grill does not supply the
people with cheaper beef for the same
place.
POOR OLD BOSSY.
Bryan Eagle.
Some Sherman people are experi-
menting wiOi a process of making pa-
per of cotton seed hulls. If it be suc-
cessful hulls will soon be too high for
cow feed.
WON’T WAKE UP.
Orange Leader.
A gas plant, a sanitarium, a state
bank, an ice plant are a few of the new
enterprises that are promised for Or-
ange at an early date. If they all ma-
terialize, it ought to make things a lit-
tle more lively in this section.
nations.
states does not come into conflict with
these iij|is the unquestionable right of
the commonwealth to pass such laws as
are believed to be for the best inter-
ests of the greater number of people
living within the borders of the state.
If in attaining this end some foreign
nation should be made to feel that it
had been aggrieved there is
provided for a proper presentation of
. the. mater, and. a method of .rectifying seek.to forbid or restrict..
switched the gayly colored flies back-
ward and forward.
Standing there, fairly swimming in
the delicious upper air currents, she
looked . blissfully,
across the roll-
ing moors.
“After all,” she
said, “vrhat more
is there than
this — earth and
c sea and sky and
sun and a friend
to show them to?
Because, as I
wrote you, the
friend is quite
necessary in the
scheme of things
to round out the
symmetry of it
all. I suppose
you’re dying to
dangle those flies
his dressing gown, went out into the
corridor, tying the tasseled cords
around his waist as he walked.
His first knock remaining unanswer-
ed, he knocked more sharply. Then he
heard from within the muffled creak
of a bed, heavy steps across the floor.
The door opened with a jerk. Gerald
MEMBER OF ASSOCIATED PRESS
THE TRIBUNE receives the full day tele-
graph report of that great news organiza-
tion for exclusive afternoon publication in
Galvestom-
I
URING that week end at
1 Silverside Boots behaved
| like a school lad run wild.
With Drina’s hand in his,
the other children and
half a dozen dogs as ad-
vanced guard and heavily flanked by
the Gerard battalion, he scoured the
moorlands from Surf point to the Hith-
er woods, from Wonder head to Sky
pond.
Nina, Eileen and Selwyn formed a
lagging and leisurely rear guard,
though always within signaling dis-
tance of Boots and the main body, and
when necessary the two ex-army men
wigwagged to each other across the
uplands to the endless excitement and
gratification of the children.
Eileen and Selwyn were standing on
one of the treeless hills, a riotous tan-
gle of grasses and wild flowers, look-
ing out to sea across Sky pond. He
, had a rod, and as Jhe stood he idly
!
s
X Copyright, 190 7, by Robert 'W. Chamoers
(( Cj j
.j '■
The rather violent eruption of anti-
Japanese sentiment in California and
Nevada is attracting a great deal more
attention than its importance deserves,
yet the. jingoes of both nations in-
'volved are doing their utmost to con-
vince the uninformed that both Japan
and the United States are hungry for
war and are tugging at the leash in
their anxiety to fly at each other’s
throats, the action of the two western
state legislatures furnishing them the
fuel for creating a bit of a blaze; but
it can be safely predicted that within
a week after the adjournment of the
two lawmaking bodies the entire mat-
ter will have been forgotten for the
simple reason that the menacing spo-
tters called into evidence for the occa-
sion!) will have faded back into forget-
fulness and the phantom armies of in-
vading yellow and brown men will
have dissolved into laundry artists, ho-
tel waiters, vegetable purveyors and
other honest callings in which capaci-
ties
To the people of California and Ne-
vada
on
a remote con-
This is
■ will be handled decisively yet justly
by the two states in question, but it
will not find its settlement in a decla-
ration of war between the United
States and Japan, and it bbrders
silliness to drag such
tingency into the discussion.
white man’# nation, and he alone is
going to decide as to such conditions
as shall prevail in admitting thdse of
other races into sharing the prosperity
he has built up. The American asks no
privileges of others that he is not will-
ing to grant to those extending like
favors on a basis of fairness, and if
the Californian appears to be going to
extremes in seeking a solution of the
Asiatic ~ problem it is because he has
become convinced that the exigencies -
of .the occasion demand some sort of
drastic legislation; but this does not
)I
a way
evening tie unknotted and dangling
over his soiled, short front.
“Hello,” said Selwyn simply.
I come in?”
The boy passed, his hand across
his eyes as though confused by the
light. Then he turned and walked
back toward the bed, still rubbing his
eyes, and sat down on the edge.
Selwyn closed the door and seated
himself, apparently not noticing Ger-
ald’s dishevelment
“Thought I’d drop in for a good night
pipe,” he said quietly. “By the way,
Gerald, I’m going down to Silverside
next week. Nina has asked Boots too.
Couldn’t you fix it to come along with
us?”
*1 don’t know,” said the boy in a
low voice. “I’d like to.”
“Good business! That will be fine!
What you and I need is a good stiff
tramp across the moors or a gallop if
you like. It’s great for mental cob-
webs, and my brain is disgracefully
unswept. By the way, somebody said
that you’d joined the Siowitha club.”
“Yes,” said the boy listlessly.
“Well, you’ll get some lively trout
fishing there now. It’s only thirty
miles from Silverside, you know. You
can run over in the motor very easily.”
Gerald nodded, sitting silent, his
handsome head supported in both
hands, his eyes on the floor.
That something was very wrong
with him appeared plainly enough, but
Selwyn, touched to the heart and mis-
erably apprehensive, dared not ques-
tion him unasked.
And so they sat there for awhile,
Selwyn making what conversation he
could, and at length Gerald turned and
dragged himself across the bed, drop-
ping his head back on the disordered
pillows.
“Go on,” he said; “I’m listening.”
So Selwyn continued his pleasant,
inconsequential observations, and Ger-
ald lay with closed eyes quite motion-
less until, watching him, Selwyn saw
his hand was trembling where it lay
clinched beside him. And presently
the boy turned his face to the wall.
Toward midnight Selwyn rose quiet-
ly, removed his unlighted pipe from
between his teeth, knocked the ashes
from it and pocketed it. Then he
walked to the bed and seated himself
on the edge.
“What’s the trouble, old man?” he
asked coolly.
There was no answer. He placed his
hand over Gerald’s. The boy’s hand
lay inert, then quivered and closed on
Seiwyn’s convulsively. .
“That’s right,” said the elder man;
“that’s what I’m here for—to stand' by
when you hoist signals. Go on.”
The boy shook his head and buried
it deeper in the pillow.
“Bad as that?” commented Selwyn
quietly. “Well, what of it? I’m stand-
ing by, I tell you. That’s right”—as
Gerald broke down, his body quivering I
you say to me,
Let me think a
Just lie quietly
and understand that I’ll do the worry-
ing. And while I’m amusing myself
■with a little quiet reflection as to ways
and means just take your own bearings
from this reef and set a true course
once more, Gerald. That is all the re-
proach, all the criticism, you are going
to get from me. Deal -with yourself
and your God in silence.”
And in silence and heavy dismay
Selwyn confronted the sacrifice he
must make to save the honor of the
house of Erroll.
It meant more than temporary incon-
venience to himself. It meant that he
must go into the market and sell se-
curities which were partly his capital
and from which came the modest in-
come that enabled him to live as he
did.
There was no other way unless he
went to Austin. But he dared not do
that—dared not think what Austin’s
action in the matter might be. And
he knew that if Gerald were ever
driven into hopeless exile, with Austin’s
knowledge of his disgrace rankling, the
■boy’s utter ruin must result inevita-
bly-
Yet—yet—how could he afford to do
this—unoccupied, earning nothing, be-
reft of his profession, with only the
chance in view that his chaosite might
turn out stable enough to be market-
able? How could he dare so strip him-
self? Yet there was no other way. It
had to be done, and done at once—the
very first thing in the morning, before
it became too late.
And at first, in the bitter resentment
of the necessity, his impulse was to
turn on Gerald and bind him to good
conduct by every pledge the boy could
give. At least there would be compen-
sation. Yet with the thought came the
clear conviction of its futility. The
boy had brushed too close to dishonor
not to recognize it. And if this were
not a lifelong lesson to him no prom-
ises forced from him in his dire need
and distress, no oaths, no pledges,
could bind him. No blame, no admoni-
tion, no scorn, no contempt, no m
proach, could help him to see more
clearly the pit of destruction than he
could see now.
“You need sleep, Gerald,” he said
quietly. “Don’t worry. I’ll see that
your check is not dishonored. All you
have to see to is yourself. Good night,
my boy.”
But Gerald could not speak, and so
Selwyn left him and walked slowly
back to his own room, where he seat-
ed himself at his desk, grave, absent
eyed, his unfilled pipe between his
teeth.
And he sat there ur^til he had bitten
clean through the amber mouthpiece,
so that the brier bowl fell clattering
to the floor. By that time it was full
daylight, but Gerald was still asleep.
He slept late into the afternoon, but
that evening, when Selwyn and Lan-
sing came in to persuade him to go
with them to Silverside, Gerald was
gone. ? •
They waited another day for him.
He did not appear. And that night
they left for Silverside without him.
Cut Thia Story Out and Keep It; You’ll
“What is were to keep you m town?”
she demanded. "The children have
been clamoring for you day and night,
and Eileen has been expecting a let-
ter. You promised to wrrite her,
Phil.”
“I’m going to write to her,” he said
impatiently. “^Vait a moment, Nina.
Don’t speak of anything pleasant or—
or intimate just now’, because—because
I’ve got to bring up another matter-
something not very pleasant to me or
to you. It is about—Alixe. You knew
her in school years ago. You have al-
ways known her.”
“Yes.”
“You—did you ever visit her—stay
at the Varians’ house?”
“Yes.”
“In—in her own home in Westches-
ter?”
“Yes.” >
There was a silence. His eyes shifted
to his plate; remained fixed as he said:
“Then you knew her—father?”
“Yes, Phil,” she said quietly, “I knew
Mr. Varian.”
"Was there anything—anything un-
usual—about him—in those days?”
“Have you heard that for the first
time?” asked his sister.
He looked up. “Yes.
Nina?”
She became busy with her plate for
awhile. He sat rigid, patient, one hand
resting on his claret glass. And pres-
ently she said without meeting his
eyes:
“It was even farther back—her grand-
parents—one of them”— She lifted
her head slowly. “That is why it so
deeply concerned us, Phil, when we
heard of your marriage.”
“What concerned you?”
“The chance of inheritance—the risk
of the taint—of transmitting it. Her
father’s erratic brilliancy became more
than eccentricity before I knew him.
I would have told you that had I
dreamed that you ever could have
thought of marrying Alixe Varian.
But how could I know you wojild meet
her out there in the orient? It was—
your cable to us was like a thunder-
bolt. And when she—she left you so
suddenly—Phil, dear—I feared the true
reason—the only possible reason that
could be responsible for such an insane
act.” e
“What was the truth about her fa-
ther?” he said doggedly. “He was ec-
centric. Was he ever worse than that?”
“The truth was that he became men-
tally irresponsible before his death.”
“You know this?”
“Alixe told me when we were school-
girls. And for days she was haunted
with the fear of what might one day
be her inheritance. That is all I know,
Phil.”
He nodded and for awhile made some
pretense of eating, but present!^ lean-
ed back and looked at his sister out of
dazed eyes.
“Do you suppose,” he said heavily,
“that she was not entirely responsible
when—when she went away?”
“I have wondered,” said Nina simply.
“Austin believes it.”
“I can’t believe it,” he said, staring
at vacancy. “I refuse to.” And, think-
ing of her last frightened and excited
letter imploring an interview with him
and giving the startfling reason, “What
a scoundrel that fellow Ruthven is,” he
said.-with a shudder.
any wrong if wrong has been
Because the legislators of California
and Nevada appear to have a bad case
of anti-Asiaticas just now is no
son fo^believing that ^hey are men-
tally unbalanced or that they are de-
termined to plunge the nation into
war; those gentlemen are of average
intelligence and as well provided with
)
patriotism as those of us located far-
ther east and may have reasons for
their attitude which would sway even
a Bostonian to actions that seem hasty
to- those unacquainted with the imme-
But this talk of war is
altogether out of place. *
The coming of Taft made New Or-
leans nervous. Just because the Cres-
cent city had a thunderstorm the ex-
citable ones knew' that a terrific storm
was raging out in the gulf.
a
ounger Set
' under the spasm of soundless grief—
“that’s the safety valve working. Good
business. Take your time.”
It took a long time, and Selwyn sat
silent and motionless, his whole arm
numb from its position and Gerald’s
crushing grasp. And at last, seeing that
was the moment to speak, he said:
“Now let’s fix up this matter, Gerald.
Come on!”
“Good heavens!
f-fixed?”
“I’ll tell you when you tell me. It’s
a money difficulty, I suppose, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Cards?”
“P-partly.”
“Oh, a note? Case of honor? Whsrq
is this I. O. U. that you gave?”
“It’s worse than that. The—the note
is paid. Good God—I can’t tell you!”
“You must. That’s why I’m here,
Gerald.”
“Well, then, I—I drew a check—
knowing that I had no funds. If it—if
they return it marked”—
“I see. What are the figures?”
The boy stammered them out.
wyn’s grave face grew graver still.
“That is bad,” he said slowly, “very
bad. Have you—but of course you
couldn’t have seen Austin.”
“I’d kill myself first!” said Gerald
fiercely.
“No, you wouldn’t do that. You’re
not that kind. Keep perfectly cool,
Gerald, because it is going to be fixed.
The method only remains to be de-
cided upon.”
“I can’t take your money!” stammer-
ed the boy. “I can’t take a cent from
yon after what I’ve said—the beastly
things I’ve said.”
“It isn’t the things
Gerald, that matter,
bit, and don’t worry.
mean war. •
There are certain lines beyond which
no state is permitted to go in framing
laws, and these are defined
national constitution of the
States and our treaties with
If the action of the Western
there are ramifications
New York theater managers cannot
agree on a plan for the uplift of the
stage. Perhaps some of them wouldn’t
know an immoral play if they saw it
and do not wish to expose their ignor-
If Senator Knox is not eligible to a
place in the Taft cabinet the president-
elect isn’t as near being through with
his building operations as he had
thought.
W^lb
I
7^7
Looked blissfully
across the rolling
moors.
in Brier Water to see whether there
are any trout there. Well, there are.
Austin stocked it years ago, and he
never fishes, so no doubt it’s full of
fish.”
The Brier Water, a cold, deep, lei-
surely stream, deserved its name. If
anybody ever haunted it with hostile
designs upon its fishy denizens, Austin
at least never did. Belted kingfisher,
heron, mink and perhaps a furtive
small boy with pole and sinker and
barnyard worm—these were the only
foes the trout might dread. As for a
man and a fly rod, they knew him not,
nor was there much chance for cast-
ing a line, because the water every-
where flowed under weeds, arched
thickets of brier and grass and leafy
branches crisscrossed above.
“This place is impossible,” said Sel-
wyn scornfully. “What is Austin
about to let it all grow up and run
wild”—
He reeled in his line until only six
inches of the gossamer leader remained
free. From this dangled a single sil-
ver bodied fly, glittering in the wind.
“There’s a likely pool hidden under
those briers,” he said. “I’m going to
poke the top of my rod under—this
way— Hah!” as a heavy splash
sounded from depths unseen and the
reel screamed as he struck.
Up and down, under banks and over
shallows, rushed the invisible fish, and
Selwyn could do nothing for awhile
but let him go when he insisted and
check and recover when the fish per-
mitted. J
Eileen, a spray of green mint be-
tween her vivid lips, watched the per-
formance with growing interest, but
when at length a big, fat, struggling
speckled trout Was cautiously but suc-
cessfully lifted out into the grass she
turned her back until the gallant fight-
er had departed this life under a mer-
ciful whack from a stick.
“That,” she said faintly, “is the part
I don’t care for. Is he out of all pain?
What? Didn’t feel any? Oh, are you
quite sure?’?
She walked over to him aiid looked
down at the beautiful victim of fcraft.
“Oh, well,” she sighed, “you are very
clever, of course, and I suppose I’ll eat
him, but I wish he were alive again
down there in those cool, sweet
depths!”
“Killing frogs and insects and his
smaller brother fish?”
“Did he do that?”
“No doubt of it. And if I hadn’t
landed him a heron or a mink would
have done it sooner or later. That’s
what a trout is for—to kill and be
killed.”
She smiled, then sighed. The taking
of life and the giving of it were mys-
teries to her. She had never wittingly
killed anything.
“Do you say that it doesn’t hurt the
trout?” she asked.
“There are no nerves in the ja\y
muscles of a trout— Hah!” as his rod
twitched and swerved under water and
his reel sang again.
And again she watched the perform*
ance and once more turned her back.
“Let me try,” she said when the
coup i de grace had been administered
to a lusty, brilliant tinted bull trout.
And, rod in hand, she bent breathless
and intent over the bushes, cautiously
thrusting the tip through a thicket of
mint.
She lost two fish, then hooked a
third, a small one, but when she lifted
it gasping into the sunlight she shiv-
ered and called to Selwyn:
“Unhook it and throw it back! I—I
simply can’t stand that!”
Splash! went the astonished trout,
and she sighed her relief.
“There’s no doubt about it,” she said,
“you and I certainly do belong to dif-
ferent species of the same genus. Men
and women are separate species. Do
you deny it?”
"I should hate to lose you that way,’’
he returned teasingly.
“"Well, you can’t avoid it. I gladly ad«
mit that woman is not . too closely re-
lated to man. We don’t like to kill
things. It’s an ingrained distaste, not
merely a matter of ethical philosophy.
You like to kill, and it’s a trait common
also to children and other predatory
animals; which fact,” she added airily,
“convinces me of woman’s higher civ-
ilization.”
“It would convince me, too,” he said,
“if woman didn’t eat the things that
man kills for her.”
“I know. Isn’t it horrid? Oh, dear,
we’re neither of us very high in tha
scale yet—particularly you.”
“Well, I’ve advanced some since tha
good old days when a man went woo-
ing with a club,” he suggested.
“You may have. But, ■ anyway, you
don’t go w’ooing. As for man collec-
tively, he has not progressed so very
far,” she added demurely. *As an ex-
ample that dreadful Draymore man ac-
tually hurt my wrist.”
(Continued.)
Want to Read It Later if Not Now.
I
'That nlgnt lie wrote to Alixe:
If Ruthven threatens you with divorce
on such a ground he himself is likely to
be adjudged mentally unsound. It was a
brutal, stupid threat, nothing more, and
his insult to your father’s memory was
more brutal still. ©Don’t be stampeded by
such threats. Disprove them by your
calm self control under provocation. Dis-
prove them by your discretion and self
confidence. Give nobody a single possi-
ble reason for gossip. And, above all,
Alixe, don’t become worried and morbid
over anything syou might dread as in-
heritance, for you are as. sound today as
you were when I first met you, and you
shall not doubt that you could ever be
anything else. Be the woman you can
be. Show the pluck and courage to make
the very best out of life. I have slowly
learned to attempt it, and it is not diffi-
cult if you convince yourself that it can
be done.
To this she answered the next day:
I will do my best. There is danger,
treachery, everywhere, and if it becomes
unendurable I shall put an end to it in
one way or another. As for his threat-
incident on my admitting that I did go to
your room and defying him to dare be-
lieve evil of me for doing it—I can laugh
at it now, though when I wrote you I
was terrified, remembering how mentally
broken my father was when he died.
But, as you say, I am sound, body and
mind. I know it. I don’t doubt it for one
pioment—except, at long intervals, when,
apropos of nothing, a faint sensation of
dr<?ad comes creeping.
But I am sound! I know it so absolute-
ly that I sometimes wonder at my own
perfect sanity and understanding, and so
clearly, so faultlessly, so precisely does
my mind work that—and this I never told
you—I am often and often able to detect
•mental inadequacy in many people around
me, the slightest deviation from the nor-
mal, the least degree of mental instabil-
ity. And it would amaze you, too, if I
should1 tell you how many, many people
you know are in some degree more or
less Insane.
He’s only serenely disagreeable to me
now, and we see almost nothing of one
another except over th® card tables. Ger-
ald has been winning rather heavily, I
am glad to say—glad as long as I cannot
prevent him from playing. And yet I
may be able to accomplish that yet In a
roundabout way, because the apple vis-
aged and hawk beaked Mr. Neergard has
apparently become my slavish creature—
quite infatuated. And as soon as I’ve
fastened on his collar and made sure that
Rosamund can’t unhook it I’ll try to
make him shut down on Gerald’s play-
ing. This for your sake, Phil—because
you ask me and because you must al-
ways stand for all that is upright _and
good and manly in my eyes,
what a fool I was!
fault too!
This ended the sudden eruption of
correspondence, for he did not reply to
this letter, though in it he read enough
to make him gravely uneasy, and he
fell once more into the habit of brood-
ing, from which both Boots Lansing
and Eileen, had almost weaned him.
Also he began to take long, solitary
walks in the park when not occupied
in conferences with the representatives
of the Lawn Nitro Powder works, a
company which had recently approach-
ed him in behalf of his unperfected ex-,
plosive, chaosite.
Lying back there in his deskxchair
one evening, Selwyn suddenly remem-
bered that Gerald had coine in. They
had scarcely seen one another, since
that unhapy meeting in the Stuyve-
sant club, and now, remembering what
he had written to Eileen, he emerged
with a start from his contented dream-
ing, sobered by the prospect of seeking
Gerald.
For a, moment or two he hesitated,
but he had said in his letter that he
was going to do it, and now he rose,
looked around for his pipe, found it,
, filled and lighted it and. throwing .on
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Galveston Tribune. (Galveston, Tex.), Vol. 29, No. 66, Ed. 1 Thursday, February 11, 1909, newspaper, February 11, 1909; (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth1350840/m1/4/?q=%22~1~1%22~1: accessed July 15, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Rosenberg Library.