Waterbury evening Democrat., 1903-11-05

H U 5SsSSs section of the dining room, all 9sE4aEsSE&y very quiet and we'll bred. An elderly couple and their daughter were at one of the tables and two young men at another. Tn ordinary circumstances l might have been interested in the young woman, who was dainty crea- ture, having wide blue eyes full of light. But as matters stood, I gave my attention to John Trask and Alex. ander Scovel-whose names, of course, were later discovery.
 Trask was unmistakably an artist by dress and manner but his face would have been ideal for a judge, being strongly indicative of perception both broad and deep and calmly severe in it's expression. He had the look of one who has engaged in the more violent athletic sports in youth and has begun to take on flesh for the lack of them. His hair was reddish brown, wavy and remarkably ornamental.
 Scovel was thin man, tall and high shouldered. His hair and dropping mustache were dark and his eyes were gray. Watching him languidly during dinner, made two accurate guesses- first, that he was lawyer, and, sec ond, that he had come to Mrs. Wither- spoons to recuperate after an illness.
 After dinner I wrote letter to my father and then went out to take a walk. When upon the steps, became aware of 8 faint strain of music pro- ceeding from nowhere in particular. It was a different kind of music from that which had heard on the veranda in St, Jo, and I was conscious of a wish that it were more distinct. A woman was singing to the accompaniment of a guitar, and, though I could not recog- nize the song, it touched that chord of memory vaguely sad which vibrates in the heart.
 Strolling toward the road, saw the fare of 8 match and then the glow of a cigar. A man was sitting on the stile beside the carriageway, and when came nearer I recognized Mir. Derrin- ger.
 l greeted him .ith something like cordiality and said that was glad to have>the pleasure so early, for I judged that two people might live a month at Mrs. Witherspoon's and never run to- gether.
 Delightful place, isn't itT' he said Gloomily.
 The tone and the words were match ed so i'll that smiled, and he perceived it, though there was not much light.
 ''I am down on my luck, and that's a fact" he said. Queer too. I ought not to be feeling this way. There's noth- . ing the matter with me-" he continued, more to the circumambient night than to me. Health good, prospects first rate, plenty to do, if l could find the sand to do it; not broke or anything of that kind"
 Looks like girl on the evidence thus far presented" said I. 'It's none of my business, of course; but I'm in somewhat the same trouble myself"
 He frightened perceptibly.
 "You were looking bit low in your mind when 1 met you at Cushing's," ," said he
 It is strange how two men become confidential The thing usually hap- pens without warrant, as in this i'm stance, and the ordinary habits of con cealment struggle with a selfish desire 60 relieve the mind. The result is that Q fellow carries away from such an in tcrview a remarkable mixed shame for having both lied and told the truth when neither was necessary.
 What told Derringer did not do ei- ther of us any good. As for his story, it was quaintly vague. He was an open 1earted, practical fellow, who might have presented the plain facts with ex- ,cellent effect, but he stumbled in the Dyways of evasion.
 "9Fhe truth is," said he, "that thought was persona grata to the fin- est woman in the world. and wasn't So came out here to forget about 1t. 7"
 Another fellow ?" suggested.
 He seemed to ponder deeply, and in the silence I heard the music more plainly than before.
 sHanged 1T \ knowl said he at last.