The Globe-republican., 1890-07-09
THE VICTIM
OF HIS
CLOTHES.
u Howard Fielding and Frederick Z. Burton.
oward Fielding and Frederick Z. Burton.
tCoPYRIGHT, 1901

CHAPTER VIL-CoNTINUED.
At the thought that Drane would be
sent, partly on her account, to an island
where there might be neither pudding
nor tea, Bessie developed symptoms Of
hysteria which touched Mrs. Bowers
heart.
perhaps could get him committed
to Jenkins Retreat" she said, relenting.
where is that?" asked Bessie, catch
ing at straw.
''It is private asylum uptown" said
Mrs. Bowers, "where they care for mild
but hopeless lunatics. ] will speak to
the Judge about it,
sis it better than that awful island?"
st is shade moro cheerful" Mrs.
Bowers admitted, shutting her lips to-
gether firmly.
Then make the Judge send him
there" cried Bessie. Tell him that
will give him ton thousand dollars if he
will"
my dearr' exclaimed Mrs. Bowers,
shocked at the girls ignorance, there
are only a certain number of judges in
New York, and you don't want them
all"
Drane had observed this conversation,
though he could not hear any of it. One
can not hear any thing in New York
police court. The testimony of tear
full innocence given in such places is
heard only in Heaven; which is just as
well, perhaps, for it may get some at
tention up there. However, Drane
knew that Bessie had been pleading for
him; and when Mrs. Bowers approached
the judge, the prisoner realized that
some amelioration Of hiscondition might
be expected.
Mrs. Bowers talked earnestly with the
magistrate, and with such good effect
that Drane was consigned to jenkins
Retreat till his friends from Kansas
City should arrive. AS for the tramp,
he went to be fed-to certain extent.
Mr.. Jenkins called his asylum ''re-
treat" advisedly, because it certainly
was not an advance upon any thing
hitherto existing in that line of bust
ness. Its exterior had all tho subdued
horror Of fashionable clearinghouse
where nothing thrives but gaunt re-
spcctability. Within it was even worse.
An atmosphere of references given
and required" especially the latter,
filled the hall; and through doorway
at the right, could be seen tomb-like
parlor, wherein upon the sarcophagus
of a sofa sat the rigid images of two an
cient females, evidently patients. They
looked out at Drane with a cold severity
that made his hair curl
He had come there in charge of a
court officer. and had not been allowed
to exchange a word with Bessie, whom
Mrs. Bowers had dragged away as Soon
as tho question Of commitment had been
settled. He felt deserted and friend
less, and despite the fact that it was q
very warm evening. he shivered as he
stood in the hall waiting for Jenkins,
of whom the officer had gone in search.
A large number of entertaining and
cheerful reflections crowded upon Drane
as he stood in the dimly-lighted hall.
He wondered, for instance, whether
straight-jacket would be regarded as an
essential of absolutely correct evening
dress in Mr.. Jenkins retreat. He also
had curiosity to know how often, on
an average, the violent lunatics in tho
establishment overpowered their keep
.ers and slaughtered the less demented
inmates. But, deepest and most impor-
tant of all, was the question of supper,
for the meal which he had appropriated
in the bath had ceased to give him sat-
isfactory support. and it might be a long
hnfn ha NOD aha~ ~-&o
other.
Jenkins was slow in coming: and
Drane got more and more nervous. He
had an unusually strong natural horror
of lunatics. Not that their presence is
particularly agreeable to any body-ex-
scept Jenkins at SO much head-but
Drane was actually superstitious about
it. He had q feeling that the germs of
mania werc floating in the air around
him, and that he might break out with the
disease any minute.
He wondered at being left thus alone.
A man who had been judicislly decided
to be crazy should have keeper. Then
he perceived in the shadow of the door
a large, ungainly man who seemed to be
on watch. He stood in kind Of niche,
and had thus escaped Drane's observa-
ton when he entered. This mans eye
SO glared upon him out of the darkness
that Drane's nerves began to dance in
manner that threatened to fit him very
quickly for permanent occupancy Of the
retreat. He felt that he must escape
from that mans observation or relieve
the oppressive silence BY a howl.
He compromised the matter by step
ping into the parlor. AT this, both tho
ancient and unfortunate ladies assumed
an air of modest reserve which was
quite frightful to sec. Presently one of
them drew out her handkerchief and be-
gan to weep softly. but with evident de-
termination to do the subject full JUS
tice before she got through.
Madame" said Drane. gently, ''U