The Yakima herald. [volume] (North Yakima, W.T. [Wash.]) 1889-1914, 1894-04-19
CHAPTER XII.

!
His secret went with him everywhere.
When after months hurried prepare
ton the play, rechristened "In the Name
Of the Gar" was put before the public,
and he knew again the intoxication of
praise and applause, his secret had much
to say to him Of confidential and con-
temptuous nature:
"If these people only knew the truth
Can't you fancy how the friendly hand
clasp would grow startled, cold. and the
fingers leave yours as If they had touched
something unclean? You have the arena
all to yourself. The plaudits are all
yours. They do not know. But do;
do"
He listened with growing equanimity
to these whisperings. He saw the phi
losophy of getting on the friendliest
terms with his secret. since it would
never leave him. Besides he possessed
it absolutely. He never considered that
some day it might possess him.
1t was now early in December. The
theaters had just deluged Broadway
with thousands Of matinee goers. The
evening was slushy, the air damp and
warm. Rose leaf tints fecked the smoky
vapor of the sky. At the perspective Of
the crowded street, crawling like
luminous cleft between. vast masses of
rock. the humidity had heaped itself in
to a low hanging pink cloud.
Tom came out OF the stage entrance,
paused to light cigar and strolled to-
ward Broadway. He had not risen
until o'clock. The day was Just begin
ming for him. His face had the opaque
wilderness debauchery leaves, and warm
though it was the occasional dabs of
damp air struck through him, carrying
depressing chill.
As he turned the corner the currents
Of people eddied around him. His wan
dering glance alighted with butterfly
swiftness on the trifies that sway Q
crowd, then darkened, dilated, fastened
upon one face.
| One FACET seemed to leap mp from
the sea Of other faces to meet him, the
eyes strained, piteous, dark with an ar
raignment, a challenge.
| Toms jaded heart suddenly livene6
with an awful fear. But he did not
pause. The streets swayed around him
as he walked on. Once he turned as II
TO glance at some flowers in florists
shop, and he saw the pale lamplight and
the gray dusk casting weird radiance
over the face. He was being followed.
He seemed to hear those logging steps
above the multitude Of footballs on
every side.
A hanson stood idle at corner. He
sprang into it, telling the man to drive
fast, and sank back, feeling bewildered,
stunned, sick.
Felix Dawson. the man he had de-
frauded, was alive.
1t had bcsh 80 easy for Tom with the
comfortable suppleness of his nature TO
assume that this mans long silence had
meant his death and gradually to as
simulate this superstition until 1t became
q surety. He had never realized the
enormity Of his act before. Felix Daw-
son had been but a shadowy memory to
him, name. He had taken his play,
and by tortuous, sophistical vein Of
reasoning this fact had grown to seem
scarcely worse than II he had only de-
stroyed it, since no one was injured.
1t was SO different now that he knew
Felix Dawson was not dead-no longer
a memory. but man. following him, his
heart fired by this wrong; o man with
eyes to scorch and voice to be raised in
condemnation; an opponent to face, to
fear.
His coming meant ruin, disgrace be-
fore the world, but it meant also sud.
den, sickening awakening to the nature
and consequences Of his act, shame
and hatred of himself. He was thief
in the commonest sense.
When the horse was pulled mp at the
>curb before his door, it was almost q
shock. He had been sitting upright. his
hands grasping the apron of the hanson,
looking straight ahead, but blind, not
even aware that it had commenced to
rain.
Delatole called to him as he went
down the hall. he paid no heed, and
entering his study flung himself into q
chair. His face was clammy and wan.
Something must be done. What
What could he say when Felix Dawson
faced him? What defense could he
maker That he was coming he was alb.
| Eolutely eure, He must be near now,