The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1903-10-13
THE SPEN DE r. S
By Harry Leon Wilson
wright 1904 By Lothrop

; passive. Now he was active, acutely aware
of himself and all his wants. He walked a
mile trying TO dismiss the idea. He sat down
again and it flooded back upon him with
new force.
Her people were gone She had even init
mated wish TO talk with him again. II
could be done quickly. He knew. He felt
the primitive superiority of mans mere
brute force over woman. He gloried in his
knotted muscles and the crushing power OF
his desires.
Afterward. she would reproach him bitter
ly They would both be unhappy 1t was no
matter. 1t was the present, the time when
ne should be living. He would have her. and
Shepler-Shepler might have had the One
Girl mine-but this girl, never!
Again he tried faithfully to walk of the
obsession. Again were his essays at sober
reason unavailing.
His mind was set as ii had been when he
bought the stocks day after day against the
advice of the best judges in the street He
could not turn himself back There must be
success. There could not be a giving up
and there must not be a failure.
Hour after hour he alternately walked and
| rested, combating and favoring the mad
project. 1t was a foolish little world, and
people were always waiting for another time
to begin the living OF life. The German had
quoted Martial: Tomorrow / will live, the
fool says, to-day itSelf'S too late. The wise
lived yesterday"
If he did go away alone he knew he would
always regret il. If he carried her triumph
antly off, doubtless his regret for that would
certain. The latter was equally plausible;
but, II 1t came, would ii not be preferable 10
the other? To have held her once-to have
taken her away, to have triumphed over her
] own calculations, and, best Of all, to have
i triumphed over the money king resting fatu-
ously confident behind his wealth, dignity
ing no man as rival who was not rich. The
! present, so. was more than any possible
future, how dire Soever ii might be.
de was mad TO prove to her-and to Shep-
ler-that she was more a woman than either
a m N A
| weak unreaSoning; to prove TO them both
| that determined man has vital power TO
coerce which no money may ever equal.
Not until o'clock had he by turns urged
and fought himself to the ferry. BY that
time he had given up arguing. He was
| dwelling entirely upon his plan of action.
| Strive and grope as he would the thing had
driven him on relentlessly. His reason could
| not take him beyond the reach of its goad.
| Far as he went he loved her even farther.
| She belonged to him. He would have her.
| He seemed to have been storing the day be-
| fore, vast quantity Of energy that he was
now drawing lavishly upon. For the time,
| he was pure, raw force, needing, to be re-
| sistlesS, only the guidance of a definite pur-
| pose.
He crossed the ferry and went to the hotel.
| where he shaved and freshened himself. He
| found Grant, the porter, waiting for him
| when he went down stairs, and gave him
| written directions to the railroad people to
| have the car attached to the Chicago ex-
| press leaving at the next morning; also in
structions ABOUT his baggage.
Il expect there will be two of US, Grant;
| see that the car is we'll stocked; and here,
| take this: go to a florists and get about four
| dozen pink rOSeS-La FRANCISCAN you re-
neutrality-suspicious. take any other color,
and be sure they're fresh. Have breakfast
| ready by the time the train starts
''Yes, Mistah Puhs-vali said Grant, and
! added to himself, "Yo' suttiny do cay yo'se' f
| mighty han some, Mistah Mani"
Going out of the hotel, he met Taunton
| Oldaker, with whom he chatted a few mo-
/ hade
Oldaker, with a sensitive regard for the
| decencies, refrained from expressing the
hearty sympathy he felt for man who
| would hencefOrth be compelled to live out
| of the world.
| Percival walked out to Broadway, revolv-
| ing his plan. He saw it was but 6 o'clock.
| He could do nothing for at least an hour.
| When he noted this he became conscious of
| his hunger. He had eaten nothing since
| morning. He turned into a restaurant on
| Madison square and ordered dinner. When
| he had eaten, he sat with his coffee for a
| final smoke of elaboration. He went over
| once more the days arguments for and
| against the novel empriSe. He had become
| insensible, however, TO all the dissenting
| ones. AS last rally, he tried to picture the
| difficulties he might encounter. He faced all
| he could imagine.
| by God, I'll do it!''
| "Oui. monsieur" said the waiter, who had
been standing dreamily near, startled into
attention by the spoken words.
| That's all-give me the check.
AS he went out the door, young woman
passed him, looking him straight in the
| eyes. From her light swishing skirts came
the faint perfume OF the violet. 1t chilled the
! steel of his resolution.
| He entered carriage. 1t was hot, humid
| night. Already the mist was making gray
| softness of the air, dulling the street lights
| to rudy orange. Northward, over the breast
| of Murray Hill few late carriages trickled
down toward him. Their wheels, when they
| passed, made swift reflections in the damp
He was pent force waiting to be trans
| lated into action.
| He drove first to the Milbrey house, on the
| chance that she might be at home. Jarvis
| answered his ring.
| SIR. Jarvis spoke regretfully. He had rea-
| sons of his own for believing that the sever
| ance of the Milbrey relationship with Mr..
| Bines had been nothing short of calamitous.
| He rang Mrs. Van Geists bell, five min
| THE ladies haven't come back sir. don't
know where they might be. Perhaps at the
Valners'. in Fifty-second street. SIR"
| He rang the Valners bell.
| Mrs. Van Geist and Miss Milbrey? They
| left at least half an hour ago, sir.
| Go down the avenue slowly. driver!
AT Fortieth street he looked down to the
| middle of the block.
| Mrs. Van Geist, alone, was just alightins
| from her coupe.
He signaled the driver.
Go to the other address again, in Thirty
! seventh street.
| Jarvis opened the door.
Eyes, sir-thank you, sir-Miss Milbrey Is
| in, sir. I'll see, sir.
| He crossed the Rubicon of a door-mat and
| stood in the unlighted hall. AT the far end
| he saw light coming from a door that he
| knew opened into the library.
| Jarvis came into the light. Behind him ap-
| peared Miss Milbrey in the doorway.
Miss Milbrey says will you enter the Ii
| brary, Mr.. Bines?