The record-union. [volume] (Sacramento, Calif.) 1891-1903, 1897-09-20
The DEAD MANS HAND.

Il lSe1Il was a DI1illdIiL SlOTy
writer and a novelist with future. Al
though he made a good income from
his pen he had some relatives on his
hand; so he kept less than half his
earnings for himself and lived in sec
ond-rate lodgings, sharing his sitting
room with another man-Tolson West.
West was a journalist; a man Of con-
siderable learning and ability; on ar
tistic matters an authority; but he was
by nature unobtrusive and retiring,
and to US on THE Pioneer" apart from
his excellent work, he was chiefly note
worthy for his undisguised admiration
for Kelsall and his tales. 1t was
pleasure to see a man 50 appreciatfVe
Of another. They lived together some
four years, and then Kelsall was struck
down with fever. He took chill when
he was recovering, and died; and there
was no one who knew the man per-
sopally or through his writings but was
sorry.
1t was terrible blow to West. He
had nursed KeIsall with more than a
woman's care all through his Illness
and he was nearly heart-broken when
he died. Some Of us tried to cheer him;
but our visits were not welcomed, and
AEENEI repeater. Anu 81 1AC AAF-~ 90
lone and solitary man, nursing his grief
and drinking.
Then a most singular thing happened.
West. who went in for solid truth, or
what he took for it, and whom we did
not think capable of writing line Of
fiction to save his life, suddenly came
out as a story writer, and in very
short time bid fair to equal Kelsall in
An ha didn't a bit
proud of it, but was more ANNOYED
than anything else when it was re-
ferred to; as a matter Of fact he Dub
lished his tales under a pseudonyme.
This did not insure secrecy: and a
month after his first story appeared we
of 1.-THE Pioneer knew that Caleb
Hardcastle'' and Tolson West were one
and the same man.
Before long West threw I'D his jour
nalistic work and confined himself to
his tales.
They were just the antithesis of KEEL
sails bright writings: and yet there
were those. who knew of the relation
ship of the two men, who said they de-
tected Kelsau's influence in them. and
even his humor, though most grew
soriely metamorphosed Some indeed
went so far as to say that West was
palming off Keisall's unpublished work
as his own; in no other way could they
account for his outburst as a writer
All the while, West. instead of being
elated BIZ his sudden good fortune.
seemed to grow more depressed and re-
served. till at last he became absolutely
misanthtropic. He would shut himself
up in his sitting-room for days ut
time. His meals were left outside his
door; he slept in their room; nothing
was seen of him, and nothing heard but
the interminable click of his type
writer.
But his talesl They fairly carried
you away with them. Never since
Swift was there such caustic wit and
biting satire: never since Poe such
abandonment to the grotesque and the
terrible His plots were daring to te-
merity, and before long it was rumored
that on this account some of the maya
zines were refusing them.
I was sitting in my room one night
when a note was brought to me.
For Gods sake COMET. West.
1 was somewhat surprised; as much
to receive the note itself as at it's emo
tioral wording, for scarcely reckoned
myself among his friends-indeed, did
not know he had any.
Fearing he had met with an accident,
I put on my hat at once and made
straight for his rooms. His landlady
met me at the door.
Il was to take you up directly you
came, sir" she said, and then conf
dentially, land I'm more than glad Mr..
West has sent for you. l don't know
what's come over him of late"
is he i'll, then2"
mo. sir; leastways not as I knows of,
but haven't seen him for week. He
hasn't been out of his room since last
Thursday"
BY this time we had reached Vests
door, Mrs. Harper knocked and called
out:
Mr. Bethel. sir"
The door was flung open, and West
stood for a moment on the threshold.
He almost dragged me in, and then
slammed the door in his landlady's
face. He looked at me for moment
in a nervous, hesitating way, then sat
down. buried his face in his hands and
burst into tears.
Come, come. man." I said, what
the dickens is UP. You've got a
beastly fit of the blues, anyway. You've
been overworking yourself"
He made no reply; so to give him
time to recover himself I walked
around the room, noting details as l
old so. The place was dirty and I'M
tidy to the last degree, and it had
evidently served as a living and sleep
ing room for some time. Unwashed
plates and cups were scattered among
books and papers, empty spirit bot
ties were thrown about on the floor,
and a half-filled one stood on the table
with a tumbler beside it. By it was the
typewriter with blank sheet of paper
in it, and all around were innumerable
sheets of typewriter copy. On the
sofa were pillows, rugs and blankets;
and the fireplace was chaotic with Gin
ders
West had somewhat recovered by
this time and came toward me. He
was terribly changed. Never robust at
his best, he now looked like broken
down old man. All life seemed to have
left his drawn and bloodless face; his
clothes We're dirty and disheveled and
his hair was streaked with gray. His
eyes glitterd with an unnatural light;
I doubted if he had washed for a week.
Bethel" he said, as he came up TO
me, I'm glad you've come. l don t
thing could have stood it a day long
err"
stood what, old chap? Your room
1 don't think I could, either. Why
don't you open the windows and have
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- = 500 It'll 1919