Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1900-10-25

| the chains Of civilization, an inner,
tanee with which generations of re
fnement had loaded him. He had
long ago ceased to care whether it
would be right to kill Dixon.
| That was all over now Providence,
that mysterious and omnipotent agency
| that thwaTts so many plans and sets at
naught so much endeavor, had been On
his side this time and had mercifully
removed Dixon. Wainwright was
| weak and laint from the swapping of
| the strain and revulsion of feeling.
He felt sorry for Dixon. He could re-
member now that he had been fond of
him before this thing came between
them. 1t was not that he ever bore
! him personally any ill-will, but only
| that Dixon had been so horribly in the
way.
Yes, it did seem too bad for Dixon;
everything to live for and yet to die.
But Dixon had been brave about it.
When they had told him that it was
the end he had not seemed to care,
and the look of contentment was not
mere momentary UnIifting, but had
| stayed on his face. Wainwright had
| not seen him; but those who had said
that even in death he smiled, as if
when entering the valley Of shadows
he had seen light beyond. 1t was a
consolation to his mother; but some
FIJI II,
friends
Perhaps it puzzled Wainwright more
than any one else; because he knew
that Dixon loved Elaine Pierpont.
Dixon had told him so himself, and
thus planted seeds of murder in his
heart. For with Dixon loving her,
she would in time love him. That was
foregone conclusion. No heart could
withstand that love-compelling person
ality. Everybody loved Dixon. With
out eXerting himself, he was irresis-
tible. Therefore, Wainwright reason
ed, if Dixon set himself to win the best
love of all, his success was inevitable.
With Dixon out Of the way, however,
the rest, and he would not fail either.
Elaine must love him; he would make
her, he thought, fierce1y.
But about the obituary; he would be
just and do his best with it. Dixon
had been generous and brave and he
would say so. Dixon had been high
minded and pure and upright. He
would put that in. Dixon had been as
handsome as a Greek god and as
warm-hearted as a child. He would
tell that, too. Dixon had been a
scholar, but transformations. He had
been accomplished, and he considered
that his accomplishments were for the
benefit Of his friends. He was so
affectionate that he regarded all the
world as one big family and did his
| oest to be universal brother None
Of this should be left out. He had
been afraid that some time he would
be impelIed to stab Dixon in the back,
and he was so glad that typhoid
pneumonia has spared him this temp
tation that he laughed for very joy, as
he got out fresh pencil nd sharpen
ed it properly.
He wrote the title, Justice to
Dixon" almost unconsciously and
then shuddered at TIE grim truth and
glaring improperly of it. Hastily he
tore up the paper and began on a fresh
sheet. He need not bother about a
] IJOl,
to that. He would concentrate his
whole effort upon the subject matter.
He could recall SO many little anec-
dOtes which showed the lovable nature
Of the man; SO many bright sayings
that were trifleS in themselves but all
told for noble living. They would
make the picture more vivid and life
like. Dixon's friends should see the
grandeur Of the man, as perhaps they
had failed to see it in his lifetime, for
they had had him at too close range.
It was no ordinary obituary that
Wainwright was making. A trans
formation had come over him. His
face was pale; his eyes blazed; his
I.
artist in love with his theme, and it
was a part of his soul he was giving to
Dixon. He worked as if his whole
previous training had been to this end.
He criticised, condemned, revised, as if
he were some one entirely apart from
his creation, an impartial judge.
When the article was finished he
realized that he had done far more
than write sketch Of Dixon. Within
the short limits Oh newspaper require
ments he had produced a mastery
work Of art, and he felt a strange ex-
uItation as he handed in his copy and
went home. He had not known before
that he was clever. He scarcely could
believe it now. By morning he began
to wonder if his work really were so
good as it had seemed the night before
He hurried down to the office, buying a
paper on the way, but was too nervous
to read it.
Wainwright, say" Hclmuth greet
ed him huskily, forgive me, but I
didn't know you could do anything so
fine. l was even mean enough to re-
member, after I gave you the assign
ment, that I had thought you we're
jealous Of Dixon and to wonder if his
memory would not fare better in other
bands"
Helmuth openly wiped his eyes.
Forgive me-" he repeated, "we all feel
that 1r-o-r nhn,1t Diunrn tho rrrnr rrn11 do