The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1886-06-27
lTP~nsed ~ Special Arro~0sms~s- copyrighted 1861
'ASTRANGB SETTLEMENT
A STORY, By NOAH BROOKS.
Auhor Of Lost in the Fog and numerous stories 4" the
Century, Harper's, etc.

Author Of Lost in the Fog and stories IN The
Century, Harper's, etc.
Most people were inclined to think, when
undertook to be guide, philosopher and friend
to my granddaughter. on his entrance into New
York society after his leaving college, that
had assumed a responsibility greater than
knew. A handsome, wilful young man, full Of
animal spirits, and disposed to sundry family
weaknesses of temperament and taste. was not
q person to steer easily among the rocks and
shadows of metropolitan social life. But then,
Arthur had a natural right to claim my pro-
section and counsel as / was his only near 7ela-
tion. was the sole male representative of his
mothers family, as he was of his fathers family
and name.
We two were alone in the world, as 1t were,
and the young fellow soon endeared himself to
me- living as I did, in an old -bachelorish and
selfish way, in chambers with nobody to care for
but myself And, when we had been together
for few months, I almost wondered how had
existed without this brisk young chap to stir me
mp, once in while, with his eccentricities, over
flowing spirits and unaccountable vagaries.
For Arthur had his queer streaks, notwithstand-
Only on one thing did I stand firm with the
lad: / could invite nobody to partnership in
my chambers. / never knew anybody that 1
would be willing to admit to the freedom of daily
intimacy, so Arthur had his lodgings in the Ok
oman, ard had mine in the Aberystwith. Both
were satisfied with that arrangement Arthur
made it point. at first, to report to me at least
once day. / say ''at first for, after while,
he formed new acquaintances-a good many of
them, in fact. and how could an old graybeard
like myself expect to keep forever by him gay
and volatile young fellow like Arthur
So the lad fell into the habit of dropping in on
me about the time Of day when he knew that
should be making my lesurely toilet, or, clad in
dressing-gown and slippers, getting ready for
bed. We were all late to bed and late to rise,
we Chesters and Arthur was so like his grand
father lmy brother Alfred), who used to say that
he hated to stir out of doors until the atmos-
phere had sheen we'll aired, that it sometimes
gave me little thrill to hear him RUIZ on; and
when, going into his rooms at the Oxonian, one
day, gazed around, aud, taking in the artistic
disorder of the apartment, exclaimed, ''You lux
urious dog" he only laughed and said, "You
would say that there was no Chester in me if
wasn'tq'
OF course that shut me up.
But we grew to be very deeply and sincerely
him the traits and characteristics of generations
Of the Chesters duplicated and re-duplicated in
the most bewildering and Kaleidoscope way.
Family failings and family virtues were all
pretty well known to me. They had been
dinned into my ears ever since boyhood. And
now it sometimes seemed to me, while lazily
studying the character of my granddaughter,
that all the tricks Of speech: manner and mind
of the family, coming down to US since the land
ing of the first Chester in 1929. the heritage
Of the handsome young fellow who was the last
of the line.
But, although I counted that day lost on
which the lad did not lounge into my rooms
his way down town to the Office where he was
reading law or, more likely, on his way home
from the Athenian Club, somewhere towards
morning. and, although people did say that Ar
thur Spenser seemed to think that the sun rose
and set where his uncle Bob was, the young man
actually had one or two intimates who like my
self, were elderly and of the stern sex. did
not wonder that every body liked Arthur, he was
DO frank and winning in his way; he had such an
open and candid face lighted with wide. inquisi-
tive eyes that move US to says Nov here is
young fellow who has nothing to conceal"
And So when he and my old friend Crosby
struck up queer sort of friendly alliance. was
very glad and not at all surprised. Crosby was
one of those mature men with no past and with
Q most wholesome future, into whose hand one
may trust the best and purest of youthful ma
lures masculine or feminine. AS Crosby and
were both in the literary line of life circum-
stances threw us much together. He wrote
books and / wrote stories and essays for the
magazines. And Arthur was wont to say, in his
half-in-jest, half-inearnest way that his Uncle
Bob knew everything and that MIR. Crosby knew
all the rest l never quite understood the tie
that bound the old fellow and the young one to-
Eether. But it was clear to me that Arthur ad.
mired Crosby with a sentiment almost akin to
yeneration; and, after WHILE when Arthur
turned me, with an unappealable state
ment, mir. Crosby says So, knew it was use
less TO prolong the discussion.
Crosby, however, had wife and children, and,
having given these hostages to the future. he
could not afford the time to cultivate any mans
friendship When he was not grubbing away
ut new novel, for which, am bound to say, the
public waited with eagerness, he was playing
slave under the silent watch of the fond domes
SIC eye; for Mrs. Crosby was worldly minded
woman who believed in making the most of
everything, including her husband so Arthur's
moments of basking in the sunlight of poor old
Crosbys kindly nature were flew and feeting.
hate to be startled / suppose every other
selfish old bachelor sympatnizes with me in that
aversion. And when, one cold and drizzly morn
ing in March, as had turned over for my second
Sleep laundering knock came at the door of the
adjoining sitting room. called out rather cross
~, Who's there?" Only muffied reply came
back. The street cars jingling past the house
drowned all nearer sounds and so. still more
GROSSLY slipping into my dressing gown, went
70 the door. It was Arthur, uncommonly early
for him. and looking greatly excited
what is the matter3 / pettishly asked.
"Have you lost your pocket-book9 You are al
ways losing your pocket book--or has your dog
an attack of the mollygrubs2 You look as if
You had been up all night and had head on"
'Oh, Uncle Bob.r the boy replied, in an awe
stricken way, "dont make fun, please Mr..
Crosby has gomez
''Gonel Gone where2s 1 demanded
That's it, Nobody knows. He's mysteri
ously Disappeared