The Washburn leader. [volume] (Washburn, McLean County, N.D.) 1890-1986, 1902-04-19
crimson
BY Fred m. ~hite
CHAPTER L.
stWhO g"

"VhO Speaks"
David Steel dropped his eyes from the
mirror and shuddered, as a man who
sees his own soul barred for the first
time. And yet the mirror was in itself
q thing Of artistic beauty-engraved
Florentine. glass in a frame Of deep old
Flemish oak. The novelist had pur-
chased it in Bruges, and 10Y it stood as
q joy and a thing of beauty against the
full red wall over the fire place. And
Steel had glanced at himself therein and
seen murder in his eyes.
He dropped into a chair with a groan
for his own helplessness. Men have
lone that kind of thing before when the
cartridges are all gone and the bayonets
are twisted and broken and the brown
waves Of the foe come snarling oyer the
breastworks.. And then they die dog
gedly, with the stone in their hands,
and cursing the tardy supports that
brought this black shame upon them.
But Steel's, ruin was of another kind.
The maj was a fighter to his tinger-tips.
He had logged determination and
splendid physical courage; he had grad
ually thrust his way into the front rank
Of living novelists, though the taste of
poverty was still bitter in his mouth
And how good success was, now that it
had come!
People envied him. Well, that was all
in the sweets of victory. They praised
his blue china, they fingered before his
Oriental dishes n the choice pictures
on his panelled walls. The whole thing
was still a constant pleasure to Steers
artistic mind. The dark walls, the old
oak and silver, the red shades and the
high. artistic fittings soothed him and
pleased him, and played upon his ten
der Imagination. And behind there was
q study, filled with books and engrav-
ings, and beyond hat again, a cOnserv-
atory, filled with the choicest blossoms.
Steel could work with the passion flow
ers above his head and the tender grace
of the typical ferns about him. and he
could reach his left hand for his tele-
phone and call Fleet street to his ear.
1t was all unique, delightful, the
Dream of an artistic soul realized. Three
years before David Steel had worked in
an attic at a bare deal table, and his
mother had G3 per week to pay for ev-
erything. Usually there was a balm in
this recollection.
But not tonight. Heaven help him.,
not tonight! Little grinning demons
were dancing on the a cornices, there
were knocking lights cleaning from
Cellini tankards hat Steel had given
far too much money for. 1t had not
seemed to matter just at the time. If
all this artistic beauty had emptied
Steel's purse, there was a golden stream
coming. What mattered 1t that the To-
cal tradesmen were getting a little rest
less? The great expense Of the novel;
lists life was past. In w years he
would be rich. And the pathos of the
thing was not lessened by the fact that
1t was true. In two years time Steel
would be we'll off. He was terribly
short Of ready money, but he had just
finished a serial story for which he was
to be paid $500 within w months of
the delivery of the copy; two novels of
his were respectively in their fourth
and fifth editions. But these novels of
his he had, more or less, given away,
and he ground his teeth as he thought
of it. Still, everything spelt prosperity.
If he lived, David Steel was bound to
become a rich man.
And yet he was ruined. Within twen-
ty-four hours everything would pass out
of his hands. To all practical purposes
1t had done so already. And all for the
want Of 6 1000! Steel had earned twice
that amount during the past twelve
months, and the fruits of his labour
were as balm to his soul about him..
Within the next twelve months he could
pay the debt three times over. He
would cheerfully taken the bill and
doubled the amount for six months de-
lay.
And all this because he had become
surety for an absconding brother. Steel
had put his pride in his pocket and in
terviewed his creditor, a little, polite,
mild-eyed %financier, who meant to have
his money to the uttermost farthing.
At first he had been suave and sympa-
thetic until he had discovered that
Steel had debts elsewhere. and then
Well, he had signed judgment, and
tomorrow ne could levy execution.
Within a few hours the bottom would
fall out of the universe so far as Steel
was concerned. Within a few hours
every butcher and baker and candles
SHOEMAKER would come ~abusively for
his bill. Steel, who could have faced a
regiment, recoiled f%earfully from that.
Within a week his oak and silver would
have to he sold and the passion flower
would Wither on the walls.
Steel had o told anybody yet; the
strong man had grappled with his trou-
BILE, alone. Had he been a man Of husi-
ness, he might nave found some way
out of the difficulty. Even his mother
didn't know. She was asleep UP stairs,
perhaps dreaming Of her sons great
ness, What would the dear old mater
say when she knew? Well, she had been
q good mother to him, and 1t aid been a
labor Of love to furnish the house for
her as for himself. Perhaps there would.
be a few tears in those gentle eyes, but
no more. Thank God, no r~eproaches
there!
David lighted a cigarette and, paced
restlessly around the dining room. New
er had he appreciated its quiet beauty
more than he did now. There were flow
ers, blood-red flowers, on the table un-
der the graceful electric stand that Steel.
had designed himself. He snapped of
the light, as IL the sight pained him, and.
strobe into his study. For a time he
stood moodily gazing into its, flowers
and ferns. How every leaf there was
pregnant with association. There was
the Moorish clock, droning the midnight
hour. When Steel had bought that hat
clock
sTirg, ting, ting! Primo, pring, prtng,;
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