The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1901-06-23

They sat down again. and the journalist
looked at the artist expectantIy.
Su1cide?' he asked. indicating with a
Sideways nod the portrait of the minor
poet on the mantelpiece.
Don't be nuisance" said the artist
testify L m giving you the story in my
own way. In course of time L got to
| know Ends father. Carter refused to go
near the old man; he said he could scent
| his riches from afar. However, for the
sake of the girl 1 loved 1 consented to
| be dined and wined as laVishly as a
pressman at an inaugural banquet. The
Wine merchant rather took to me, and 1
spent several very pleasant evenings at
! his house
Zone night
"Har' The journalist sat up in his chair
and looked aggressively professional.
Please don t snort" said the artist
one night l came home late. l had
been spending a delightful evening with
Enid, marred occasionally by the neces-
slty of having to listen to her father S
account of how he made his pile out of
nalf a dollar and copy of Robinson
CrGSoe' After a time however he had
fallen asleep, and the sound of his Snores
filled in those charming little gaps in our
conversation that are apt to occur when
people are too happy to be commonplace
and too interested to be polite. Before
L left | had proposed to her in the hall
and she had accepted me on the mat"
And when you got back to your cham
bers Pr
Il left her an hour later, returned to
Lincoln's Inn by hanson, fumbied my
bed"
'TWhat time would it be them" asked
/ the journalist in a hoarse whisper
Il don't know" Kissed the artist "I
Tell asleep at once, but woke about two
hours later with the certainty that some
one else was in the room. l struck q
match. lit a candle by the side of my
ped, and saw that was right"
1T was Carter?"
"Of course 1t was He was standing
his pajamas. At first l thought he must
be walking in his sleep, for his eyes star
ed at me wildly and his face was as pale
as DEATH"
The journalist looked nervously at the
portrait on the mantlepiece and shudder-
ed.
He didn't speak a word" went on the
artist; so said. Hullo! old man, what's
the matter?
"Yes?" The journalist was trembling
visibly.
Don't be fool" said the artist. This
isn't melodrama. This is serious. When
| spoke to him, he passed mis- hand over
his eyes and gave deep sigh. l asked
| him again what was the matter, but the
only answer | got was, Thank God!'
Did he swoon?' asked the journalist
| breathlessly.
| NO certainly not! He sat down on
| my portmanteau and looked much bet
| ter. So l asked him a third time what
| ne was getting at, and at last he con-
| descended to explain. L had a dream
! he said, and in my dream | saw you
! lying on your bed, dead. l was 80 hor-
rlfled that l awoke and staggered in here
| to see If the dream was true. AT first
! l was afraid to look at the bed; but when
| you struck match the sense Of relief
| was almost oVerpowering He was silent
| for a minute or two and then he added
| I wonder what the dream meantY
! "Well?' asked the journalist did you
tell him?"
! "At first, it didn't occur to me- but
| suddenly l remembered that dreams 90
! by apostles and the whole thing OF
| course, was as plain as possible. So
| told him, then and there, that [ had
proposed to Enid and that she had ac-
| cepted me-
Lord" said the journalist, slappine
| his knee, what a lovely situationr'
| 1T may strike you like that" said the
artist, but l thought it was beastly
| awkward. Poor old Carter was struck
all of heap, as they say. He simply
| got UP from the portmanteau, staggered
| out Of the room, and / heard him shut
| his own door with a bang After he
| for l was always a believer, you know
| in letting things shape themselves as fan
| as possible But hard as L tried,
| coubdnt sleep another wink. I kept CT
| thinking about poor Carter and his
| dream, and the snoring old wine ner-
| chant, and all the rest Of it, until my
| brain was in a worse state of chaos thar
| usual. Then l began to wonder seriously
| how Garter was feeling about my en-.
| gagement. 1 knew he was a morbid SORT
| of chap If anything went wrong with
| him, and | also knew that he was fear
| fully in love with Enid 1t occurred
| to me that L ought to go to his room
| perhaps, and say something by way OF
| apology for having cut him out"
The journalist put his hand over his
eyes.
1.-The more I thought about 1t, the
| more evident it seemed that 1 ought tc
| give him bit Of bucking up. So l got