Western Kansas world. [volume] (WaKeeney, Kan.) 1885-current, 1886-02-13
A LIFE FOR A LIFE.

A LIFE FOk A LIFE.
He went into his private Office and
closed the door behind him. He did moi
trouble to lock it. What was the use!
In momen. or two more all the prying
8iances, all the inimical presence of Other
human lives against his own would be as
nothing. They might discover what
they chose. As for that the discovery
was already made. But again, what
matter? He would be beyond the reach
Of it all in another minute of time.
He opened his desk and balanced the
cold steel of the weapon in his hand
Even at that instant his subjective meta
physical temperament, too completely
wrought, asserted itself and he had a
heeting feeling, looking at the polished
barrel as though it was sentient thing;
and in the grip of its steely, death-like
quiesence supreme, conscious potential
ties seem to Turk, crouching and ready
to spring.
Then he raises his hand slowly. He
paused an imperceptible interval Of time
with the cold pressure against his temple
Then closed his eyes.
A blow like that of hammer hurled
back the uplifted hand. The detonation
filed the room with sharp, deafening re-
verberatioH and the density of slowly
clearing smoke. Through the cloud be-
tween them, Arthur Ives met Penfeld's
eye with steady gaze.
Then, as the realization Of what he
had been wrenchei back to face rushed
over the latter, he raised his clenched
fist:
allow dare you! How dare you!
What had you to do here?"
The other never lost his calmness.
stake care. Don't be abusive. I've
saved you from being coward-that's
ALL"
"And what have you saved me for
To drink my digrace to the dregs? To
''Stop! I've saved you to give you the
chance Of redeeming yourself. Ibelieve
you are an honest man in spite of-these
accounts. No one knows of them but
myself yet. And no one shall know. I
give you fair start. You can begin
over again. You have ability enough.
You can commence anywhere afresh and
make your mark"
Ives had spoken in a level, unmoved
voice. He leaned slightly against the
desk and raised one hand to his upper
lip. Penfeld stood opposite him. The
one was fair, of suberb physical strength,
lightly carried; homogeneous, at ease
with himself, bearing the stamp of sue
cess in his clear eyes, in the unconscious,
perfect ease of every motion. The other,
fempest-tossed, driven by temptations,
by clashing instincts of good and evil,
looking older, though in reality the
younger, his dark eyes restless with in
inner conflicts, his hair streaked here and
there within the last few months. An in
slant Penfeld looked steadily at his ben
efactor's face. Justice in the worlds
abysses would scarcely indicate the dis
lance between these two!
"Why do you do this for met" he
then said slowly. ~ have done nothing
for you but defraud you to the extent of
several thousands"
81 have told you why I did it. Be-
cause believe you to be an honest man
Notwithstanding. As to to the deficit, I
will make it up now. If you can pay
me back, very well"
That same night Penfield, his past
wiped out behind him, left New York.
X 4 X
When we say that mans past has
been wiped out behind him, we use fig
ure of speech. The words, the acts, the
attitudes we have spoken, done, taken,
which we have thrown to the four winds
of Heaven, hoping for their humiliation,
return upon us in cloud of cohesive
atoms, accompanying us by Cay and by
night forming an impalpable part of our
personality. There are times when we
forget the logging shadow. To some
natures it is rarely perceptible load
Penfeld's was not of that type. His
past had become functional part of his
consciousness. It was crouching pres
ence he had buried deep, but every now
and then it stirred with sluggish, creep
ing motion that turned him cold and
seemed ready to leap.
OF late, q more healthy tone, though,
had taken possession of his mind. These
intervening years had been morally re-
facilitating. He had prospered; he had
purified life. There were moments when
he felt that strenuous atonement might
truly pass an oblterating sponge over
The stigma of past degradation. Heper-
haps did not know himself, how much
ofSener these glimpees of blessed mirage
had come to him since he had met Bertha
Ellworth. She seemed to make all things
possible. In the pure light Of her radi-
ant eyes the base alloy of ones nature
slipped away as disfguring garment.
The soul stood opposite her on fair
heights OF the ideal to which it would
.t*ain. II she would but give her nm
spotted life as the sanctifcation of his.
But his breath came short and his eyes
grew blind at the thought. He dared
not frame one word Of what lay back of
his lips, and yet she had never seemed
70 gently. softly approachable as to-day. |
AZ he rose to leave, something Of the |!
hunger within him leapt, rebelious, into
swM ION give me- Tie aower you