Western Kansas world. [volume] (WaKeeney, Kan.) 1885-current, 1902-11-22

stance into elementary parts-or dis
sect them by a sort of mental sur
gerry. We have always been comrades
after a fashion, Gregory, but 1 never
understood you like other men"
No. said the other sadly, that
has been my curse-to mask my real
self from all the world. I've been a
sort Of emotional detective. I've pried
into the hearts of men and women,
to see them beat for others-never
for myself. Since childhood 1 have
craved for love and understanding.
Never has it come. They said: He
is a strange boy; so different from
the rest / felt myself an outcast
and began to shun my former play
mates-ashamed, knew not why. I
tried to act like the others but was
too young to play part. People saw
the trick and I felt it ever-like
felon in disguise. Some were indif-
ferent. | did not mind that. Some
disliked me, with the distrust of
ignorance for aught that is strange.
l grew accustomed to this in time
Still others pitied, and it cut me like
knife. l writhed a while and then
grew strong enough to bear it with
out sign. But always l searched
and studied and peered into the cram
nies of the human heart to find
wherein the difference lay between
me and my fellows. All about me
were the things for which l craved-
human love and the sympathy of
understanding. They were beautiful
to me-the sun, the wine, the music
of my life. They grew within my
soul and made me glad-onIy to see
them-but they only added to the
hunger which 1 dared not show.
Sometimes, Edward, when no one else
is by, every fibre of my being cries
aloud for the touch of woman's
hand, the look of trust, the tender
message, the many little things
which other men possess. but which
have never come to me. No one but
you will ever know this. You at least
have tried to understand me-you
and Margaret, who is dead. l tell you
this because 1 loved her-perhaps
you ought to know although she
never guessed it 1 loved her better
than the soul within me-than God
himself. Not with the passion which
drives men mad, but with that deeper
feeling which is repressed and throbs
in mighty silence through every
thought and purpose while life lasts
''Yes, you hid it from us both," said
Edward. dimly, vaguely,-"and 1
think l understand" He arose and
began to pace the room His face was
working now with some unfathomed
conf1ict-the calm was gone. After
time he stopped before the others
chair and regarded him intently.
'tI'll have to ten you now," he
said, hoarsely. You have the right
to know. You thought that Margaret
died of heart disease. All the world
thinks So 1t does not know the
truth-buu you shall. Read this
Gregory took the letter from the
others hand and spread it out before
him. He started as the first line met
his glance and turned to his COM
panion. go on said Edward, read
it through and Gregory, with
white and silent face, turned to the
page again. 1t ran as follows:
My Husband-It is not for you
or other men to judge me for the
deed l am about to do. That is for
God, who knows the frailties of wo-
mems hearts. Nor is mine the fault
that l have not the strength longer
to fight the passion 1 have hid from
you thus far. You are so strong, so
independent of a life like mine; you
will not miss me as a weaker man
might donor will you blame me
when you know the truth. l am cast
ing away my life In a little phial.
now within my hand, there rests a
sure and rapid cure for earthly ills
and one which gives no sign 1t
draws no lines of agony upon the face
one merely sleeps, and it is over.
My father was a chemist-he taught
me somewhat of his craft, and of this
berry. which, stepped in wine, gives
peace to weary hearts
And now the secret which causes
me to take this step; it is thing
which came into my life unasked-
Something stronger than myself-the
love of another man; your friend 1t
was destiny that made you bring him