The times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1882-1897, 1893-12-22

his muscles were braced to a painful
rigidity, his face was greenish white.
He was prepared to deny the charge abb
solutely, to decry the man as mad.
mo proof. No copy. No eye saw
you. 1t is your word against his"
Braced by logged, passionless as
surance in the stability of the lie on
which he had surely builded, he looked
Felix Dawson in the eyes, and then his
plan Of defense shriveled, his heart
melted within him for very pity. This
was not an accuser come to demand JUS
tice. This was man in whom the fires
of life had died. His eyes were graves
of dead illusions. So might one look
who had parted with hope and stood
with outstretched, empty hands, crying
to fate, in tones of imbittered triumph:
"Pass by me now. Leave me free.
You have taken all"
"You remember me?' And his quiet
voice was peculiarly sad and strong.
Tom stood like one arraigned before
superior, a judge.
eyes, i do"
"a long time ago left q play with
you. This afternoon l saw it acted at
Palliser's theater, your name on the pro-
gramme as it's author"
This was the moment of supreme dis
stimulation, and Tom knew it. All the
forces within him were reused to a
throbbing sense Of self preservation.
But he could not lie to him. He could
be very wicked but for one strain in
herent in his nature. The waywardness
rolled like sea, only to break upon this
as upon a bar and surge back strength
less and abortive. No, he could not lie
to him. His glance wavered, the cigar
dropped from his trembling fingers, he
moved little nearer Felix Dawson, his
heart in his eyes.
"What will you do? Wait before you
speak. Hear me-" He stopped sudden
ly, pierced to the heart. "My God!
what must you think of meY"
"What do think of your" asked Daw-
son, the low, resonant voice suddenly
quivering with contempt "Iwould not
touch your hand for all the money in
the world if starved tomorrow. You
seem to me like rich man who searches
through a beggar's rags and steals his
last coin. You are utterly detestable to
me. You cowardl You theft"
Tom started and flung back his head.
2 mo, I'm not that. I'm not what you
believe. / didn't rob you of your one
possession and add it to my many.
took it when was mad with despair.
You must believe me-you must. 1t
was here in this very ROOM" and he held
out his arms, looking around the place,
an almost childish pleading in his eyes.
~ came in knowing had failed. FAC
copied defeat with what agony perhaps
you can guess. 1t was then l read your
play for the first time. More than year
had passed since you left it, and Thought
you dead. It would mean nothing to
you, everything to me. took it. ask
you again, what will you dor
There was understanding in Felix
Dawson's eyes, but no softening. His
heart was like wrung out sponge-it
knew no extremes. The one passion left
him was a morbid love for the play he
had written.
OOly WIOhBCu oCdu nlOhs 4ACJ Gail
not all come back as have done. But
unfortunately for you," he said, with a
slight curl of his lip, II was not dead.
came here three times in the summer
following. The place seemed shut up.
The rest of the time have spent in
hospital. Facing death and eternity,
forgot life, forgot you. God has
cursed me for many years, and / never
bent to the rod. And now, when had
thought the long, bitter day was to end
in storm and darkness. there is prom
Use of new dawn.
"You mean?"- and the words were a
terrified breath on Toms lips.
"What can mean but that you are to
give me my play?" he cried.
II can't. Don't you see that it is i'm
possible-now" The prayer had gone
from Toms voice. 1t was logged, des-
perate. "I'll give you every penny get
for it, but my name must stand as its
author. To acknowledge your right
would be confessing my theft. That !
refuse to do. 1t would mean social dis
grace. Do you understands
Dawson's face was terrible in its scorn.
money won't content me-"
"See here. / could have denied your
right to this play-lied to your teeth.
But / didn't. Face to face in this silent
room l have been honest with you.
would undo it all if / could, God knows
how readily" He paused, and his voice,
though quiet, was like the strokes of
steel upon steel. "But before the world
1t will be different. If you have no
mercy on my position, I'll have none on
you. will swear if need be that the
play is mine from the first word to the
last. tell you it will be an unequal
struggle, and will win. Cranks and
blackmailers abound in New York. You
will be classed among them and be for
gotten. You'd better accept my terms,
Think again. Take the money. I'll be
glad to give it to you. But the play
must remain mine. It is too late for
anything else. Don't you seer Can't
you seer"
Dawson seemed scarcely to listen to
him. He was looking past him, faint,
dreamy smile upon his pale lips
,sUtl, a+,. ,vo,,r yiaxu 90 A. ..k,.o+,,,,,