The record-union., 1894-09-29

They had passed the managing editors
desk and moved together without appa-
rent purpose to a window overlooking
the roofs and checkered channels of the
great city. The dusk was already purp-
ling the dusty ways and so swiftly mar
shallng the city lights that it soon seemed
IKE great armament OF upleaping stars
beneath them.
Editor Whitaker saw that his compan-
ION eyes were fixed on little pockety
hollow of shadow-a miserable quarter
of the city which he also we'll knew-De-
tween high and crowding walls, per-
haps half mile to the north OF Printing
House Square, but he let him look and
| think undisturbed with his hand upon
his shoulder, so long as the mood re-
NAMED upon him.
Standing thus, his features were by
turns set and hard, filled with alarm and
apprehension, stern with sudden resolve,
qulVerlng IN apparent hopeless pity, or
drawn in pain and discouragement. At
most bounding, Editor Whitaker imag-
lned, toward the dark hollow between
| the northern walls.
This is ineXcusabler' he faltered with
a start, seeming TO suddenly recollect that
board member stood beside him.
"Bosh! This is dead rightn' retorted
| Editor Whitaker with a burst of feeling,
| IN which objects grew hazy before his
| own pudgy face. "Ye don't have T. give
| it a name neither, Kirtley Breemv'
"Twenty-two years." said the manag-
ing editor deliberately, as if thinking
wonderingly aloud with an inclination
| of his head in the direction of the bit of
| light-surrounded shadow between the
walls.
Editor Whittaker's S rough hand stroked
| his shoulder softly and reassuringly.
And always darkening, darkening
| just as you see it now" This, still as if
thinking aloud and with his thin finger
| trembling toward the spot which was
| fast merging from shadow into black
| ness.
Lots o. change in that time" said
Editor Whitaker cOmfortingly.
I'm some things there is no change" 1t
came almost as groan from kirtley
Breem's lips. Then, determinedly,
when must L leave the city?'
IN Morning!-morning!" was the stout
and almost aggressive reply.
IF do not go--my place will be filled
by another?"
"4 ou go. That's passed the boardn'
well, will 60 on one condition"
Needn't name il. It's yours before
| namin'."
That you-no other human being, Mr.
| Whittaker-divide my salary each day
| into three equal shares, place the money
| livered, by some person entirely dIscon-
nected with the employees of the office,
| and still sc that there will be no doubt
about their absolute delivery to the three
persons whose names and addresses
will leave with YOU"
You kin be jest as sure of it as that
'Lijah Whitaker lives"
AT about o'clock every evening""
| Mine, Z th' stroke o. th' hour. Pull
out your watch T. th' minute wherever
| ye be, am know it's done!"
| Kirtley Breem looked into the honest
old eyes an instant, when he stepped to
| his desk with an almost youthful tread
] and wrote three names and addresses
| which Editor Whitaker placed labori-
| ously in his wallet. Then the managing
editor hastily set his books and papers
] Alright, called his assistant and gave him
a few general directions, and, with his
still vigilant guard close beside him, with
many timorous fits and starts and at
tempts to return, which were promptly
checked by his companion. he at last
found himself upon the crowded street.
Don't it feel like out o. prison now.
| honest, Breem?"
Honestly, it feels like the sensation of
being hanged. but God bless you, Mr..
W hittaker! is in thevery tingle and chok-
ing OF it all!'
"Tut, tut! Bother! Bosh! Why, he's
l
They grasped hands and stood there
| silently for moment. When Kirtley
| Breem's hand was withdrawn, there were
! bills of large denomination within it.
The crowd had pushed between him and
| his companion, but he could see his fat
hands waving him away and hear his
kindly voice roaring above the din of the
! street:
Jest word, when you're anchored, T.
know where ye De, if ye don't mind
Forgit th' MOTOR Forgit yourself.
| Forgit trouble. Go back twenty year
| t. where ye was raised. mebby-an' begin
| over agini Good-byr'
! Whereupon kirtley Breem set his
| again darkening face hurriedly toward
the black spot between the towering city
walls, and for the last time.
THAT'S human bein' that's been muir
dered by inches half his lifetime" mused
Editor Whitaker, watching him closely
as he pushed through the dense early
evening thrOngs of Park Row, An
he's stood an took it like steel, or one o.
them air gods they tell about. | thought
| | had stuff in me. l amt in th' same
| hundred year with that fellow"
lie at once examined the slip of paper
which Kirtley Breem had given him,
and began muttering:
Twelve Forsyth street? Forsyth
street? That's no tt place for th' man
agin' editor o. th' MOTOR u live in!
! That's a tough deestrict, that is. Mebby
Breem don't live there? Mebby. Whew!
Here, here, here, 'Lijah Whitaker, that
won't dor'
He held the addresses out at arms
| length under a shop window, scanning
them eagerly and spelling them out care
fully.
Mrs. Betsy Hopper, Housekeeper,
Fourth Flat, II Forsyth street, Cityr"
Editor Whitaker mopped his fore
head, pumped on his spectacles and re-
tiected for moment obviously.
THAT looks bad; mighty bad. But
it's only number one," he added hope
fully.
"Mistress Rachel Breem, Widow,
Fourth Flat, II Forsyth street! Umph!
| That's better Paul Breem' = what's
this? 'G-a-m,' Gam. Gam?-Gam!-
Gam? Showed his pen through that three
times. Bothered, an some slip prob'ly.
Same number, though; Il Forsyth
streetp'
Editor Whittak er replaced the paper In
his wallet, carefully put his spectacles in
| their case, shut his lips closely together,
nodded his head several times ,jerkily,
| buttoned his coat across his chest as
| though setting out in stormy weather,
boarded an uptown car and, few min
utes later, found himself plunging
through the writhing masses, the loathe-
some scum OF all nations that swarm like
human maggots in the fostering city
trench known as Forsyth street.
He had scarcely found its Number II
before he caught glimpse of Kirtley
Bresm behind him. 1t was impossible
for him TO retreat and he plunged into
| the shadowy entrance, cropping to the
right and left as he scram bled up the
| creaking stairs for some momentary re-
treat from observation.
This impulse spurred him into quickly
clambering up, up, up. The footsteps OF
hirtley Breem were close behind. More
by hit than w.t." as ne afterward related,
his arm suddenly lunged forward into