New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1903-08-03
CHAPTER XXI.
THE ROAD OUT.


Bradford waited twenty minutes; half an hour;
three-ouarters-but Charges did not come. Fin
gering the pen upon his desk. the dulness of
certainty living upon his heart. Bradford waited.
Rut a+ last when an hour was UP, he rose. II
the rector came now It could only be that he
would bring bad news the worst news, the final
news; and Bradford preferred not to listen to
the retailing of that again.
"Oh. Mr.. stebbins, just see that that de-
murrer is filed before o'clock please. shall
not be back this afternoon"
Yes, sir"
Bradford wondered whether the clerk would
use that dull, disinterested tone If he knew that
his superior would not return the next day,
either; the next; nor the next; nor any day
thereafter. AS he went out Bradford turned at
the door and looked back His desk was in a
cheerful, sunny spot. 1t odd to think that
he should never see the light creep down the
curtains any more
He dropped into drug store next door, where
he had not infrequently made purchases. and
asked for ten eighth-grain morphine powders
insomnia" inquired the clerk. sympatheti-
caIy, as he filed the order.
"Oh-very slight. now and then. But these are
for some one else, fancied perhaps you wouldn't
sell them without prescription
The clerk laughed. II guess we trust you,
they're kept carefully
Il know. But think they'll last long as
my friend needs them" returned Bradford care
lessly. What an unholy thing IT would be to
fall into the habit OF swallowing these things,
Ell? Turn man yellow as brown paper. sup
poser" He stared curiousiy at the packet.
Il guess. Lots Of folks use the stuff, though;
squirt It into themselves. It's the curse OF the
country; coming to be, anyway The cheerful
answer reminded Bradford Of Miss Mangler.
Good afternoon" he said.
That's what I call a gentleman" remarked
the clerk, when Bradford had gone. He spoke
to lounger by the cigar case. Polite, he is.
and sharp as a razor. Never comes in here but
he says something worth listening to- Well,
he'd oughto be happy. He's old Murdoch's SON
in-law. he IS"
THAT feller?'
'Tmp-h'm. He only works when he feels like
It. and spends the rest Of his time kiddin'
around. I could be gay myself with that snap"
Yah! Gimme some pennies. Jack; I'm goin'
TO break your machine"
Bradford decided to walk home. This would
be his last opportunity. Somehow. though his
resolution was fixed and quite untroubled he
felt that he would put his purpose off that little
while. 1t made no difference whether he died at
40 or at 3. II fancy the trains TO where I'm
going are run to suit the passengers, he
thought. He fingered down the street, looking
into the faces of the people he passed. as they
FASTENED by with the set look OF people who
must not be detained. They were in hurry.
Where were they going? To an appointment!
So was he. Home? And he. Perhaps 70 bar
gain and sell? That, at least was over for him.
So he speculated His brain, which was always
clear and sharp clearer and sharper than
ever. He had that sense Of extra senses which
had now and then possessed him before, as, for
instance, on the night Of the wreck. when he
came to Carfax He saw everything-the goods
in the windows. the signs Of the stores. the
traffic in the street. and the expressions on the
faces Of the passers- 5y-a dozen Of those tiny
dramas which we let go unheeded every day
the long handgrip OF two men on 3 street