davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
The San Francisco call., 1904-12-04

laugh, sticking his hands in his pock-
cts. Grantley turned toward him,
smiling slightly
"Oh, this isn't a melodrama, you
know" Blake said, "and we're not to
be bluffed like that Don't be so
damned absurd, Imason! On my soul,
I've had enough of this business with
out having to listen to stuff like that"
DO you think it's bluff and melo-
drama?" Grantley asked Sibylla. DO
you think I've no real intention of do
ing it?"
She looked up at him intently.
You love yourself more than the
boy, and your pride more than life or
happiness" she said slowly. He
frowned, but heard her without inter-
ruption. so 1 think you might do IT"
she ended.
"Sibylla!" cried Blake, leaning for
ward again.
A gesture from her arrested his
speech. He rose slowly to his feet and
stood listening.
Il may be made fool Of don't
make a fool of myself. If l pledge
myself to you to do it, you know 1 shall
do ii, Sibylla?"
yes. then you would do it," she
agreed.
"Oh, but it's nonsense, it's rank mad
ness, it's-it's inconceivable!" Blake
broke out.
Il do now SO pledge myself" said
Grantley.
Sibylla nodded; she understood. She
leaned back in her chair now, regard
ing her husband thoughtfully.
Grantley's pale face was set in a
fixed smile; he met her gaze steadily.
It's madness-you'u be stopped"
Blake burst out. II can't believe you
mean It, Anyhow, you'll be stopped" :"
by you? Will you send for a police
man? Or will you come to my house
and stop me? Nothing can stop me
unless you kill me. Is that your
choice?"
He spoke to Blake, but he looked still
at Sibylla. Blake came near and scru-
tinized the pale face with eyes whose
expression grew from wonder and in
credulity into a Mortified apprehension.
The silence now seemed long.
Yes said Sibylla at last, "it's like
you. That's what you'd do. 1 never
thought of it; but I'm not surprised.
It's you. It's just that in you which
has made my life an impossible thing.
You sacrificed me to it. You would
sacrifice yourself and your son. Yes,
it's you"
She put her hands up before her face
for moment, pressing her fingers on
her eyeIids. Then her eyes sought his
face again.
But, Sibylla-" cried Blake.
Yes, he'd do it, Walter" she inter-
rupted, not turning round
Blake took two restless PAGES to and
fro and sank into his chair again.
You understand now. 1t lies with
you" said Grantley to his wife. I've
told you 1 was bound to tell you. Now
it lies with you.
Again passion seized her.
fol a
with me- 1t lies at your door, both
the crime-the hideous crime-and, l
pray God, the punishment"
I'm not talking about the crime or
the punishment" he said coldly. Il
take those on myself as much as you
like. What depends on you is whether
the thing happens. That's all 1 meant
to say"
Young Blake was staring at him now
as if fascinated by his firm and hide
Gus resolve. Slowly it had been driven
into Blake's brain that the man meant
The San Francisco call., 1904-12-04

and then sat down in the chair by the
table where Blake had been sitting
when she kissed his hand and gave
him her surrender.
A knock came on the door. Young
Blake unlocked it and stood opposite
il. His face w4s pale now.
He shan't come near you" he
whispered TO Sibylla aver his shoul-
der.
She made no sign. She sat resting
her clasDed hands on the table and
gazing intently toward the door.
There was no sign of confusion or Of
guilt about her. Her face was COM
posed and calm. Young Blake's fists
were clenched. He seemed TO keep
himself still with an effort.
The door opened and Grantley ap-
peared on the threshold. He was very
wet; the rain dripped from his hat as
he took il off his head; salt spray
hung on the hair over his ears. He
shook himself as he shut the door be-
hind him Then he looked from ST.
bylla to Blake and back to Sibylla, at
last fixing his eyes on her.
You can't come in here" said
Blake I'll come outside with you
if you Ike, but you can't come in
here
Grantley took no notice. His eyes
were on Sibylla.
em I too late, Sibylla?" he asked.
Yes she answered TRANQUILITY,
too late"
A sudden flush swept over Grant
ley's face, but IN an instant his usual
pallor had returned.
In the sense in which I spoke is
that true, Sibylla?"
She shrugged her shoulders little.
She seemed composed and almost
careless as she answered with a touch
OF contempt:
mo; but il is true, for all that"
The San Francisco call., 1904-12-04

warned her curtly. as he logged the
horse on again, taking now to the turf.
where the going was better.
Her grasp of his waist was limp.
Hold on, hold on he said testify,
''or you'll be slipping off," There was
no hint of tenderness in his voice.
But Sibylla rocked nothing of that
now. With lOng-drawn sigh she set
tied herself in her place. 1t was so
sweet to be carried along-just to be
carried along, to sit still and be car
ried along She frightened her grip on
him. and Sighed again in a luxury OF
content. She let her head fall against
his shoulder, and her eyes closed. She
could think no more and struggle no
more; she fell into the blessed forget
fulness, the embracing repOse, of great
fatigue.
The encircling Of her arm, the con-
tact of her head, the touch OF her hair
on his neck moved him with a sudden
shock Their appeal was no less strong
because it was utterly involuntary, be-
cause the will had not part in the sur
render of her wearied-out body. Mem
Ory assailed him with a thousand
recollections, and with one above
all His face set in a sullen OBJ
stinate resistance; he would not
hear the voice of his heart
answering the appeal, saying that
whom he loved. He moved the horse
into a quicker walk. Then he heard
Sibylla speaking in a faint drOwsy
whisper: Good Rollo, good ROllO
how he carries US both-as easily as if
we were one, Grantleyi" She ended
with another luxurious sigh. 1t was
followed by little shiver and a fretful
effort to fold her cloak closer about
her. She was cold. She drew nearer
to him, seeking the warmth of con-
tact. That's q little better" she
murmured in a childish grumbling
voice, and sought more comfortable
resting for her head on his shoulder.
He knew that her wits wandered, and
that the present was no more present
to her. She was in the past-in the
time when to be near him was her
habit and her joy. the natural refuge
she sought, her rest in WEAKNESS, the
end of her every journey, when his
arms had been her home Certainly
her wits must be wandering. or she
would never rest her head on his shOul-
der, nor suffer her hair to touch his
neck, nor speak nor sigh like that, nor
deliver herself to his charge and care
in this childish holy cOntentment.
Wandering wits, and they alone, could
make her do anything of this So it
was not to be regarded How Should
any sane man regard it from the
woman who had fOrsaken her child
and sought to dishOnor her home
whom he had but just torn from the
arms Of lover?
He was afraid. Hence came his usm-
moning Of the hardest thoughts his re-
sort to the cruelest names. He braced
himself to disregard the appeal she
made, to recall nothing Of all that her
intimate presence thrust upon his
mind. He would not be carried back
no Of ha uf
the chasm which those months had
rent between them. For here was no
such willing submission as he asked.
1t was all unconscious; it left her re-
The San Francisco call., 1904-12-04
CHAPTER XVII.
Wandering Wits.

Grantley's pride was eager to raise
its crest again. 1t caught at the re-
suit of the struggle and claimed it as
a victory, crying out that there was
to be no pointing of scornful fingers,
no chuckles and winks, no shame open
and before the world. The woman
who walked by his horse was a
pledge to that. He was not to
stand a plain fool and dupe in the eyes
of men. If that thought were not
enough, look at the figure young
Walter Blake had cut! Who had
played the man in the fight? Not the
lover, but the husband. Who had won
the day and carried off the prize? The
woman who walked by his horse was
the evidence of that. Who had known
his will and stood by it and got it?
The woman answered that. He bore
her off with him; young Blake was left
alone in the dingy inn, balked in his
plan, broken in spirit, disappointed Of
his desire.
The night was still and clear now.
Broad puddles in the Iow-lying road
by the sea and the slipperiness of the
chalky hill up to the cliffs witnessed
to the heaviness of the recent down.
pour as the flattened bushes in the
house gardens proved the violence of
the tempest. But all was gone now.
save the sulky heaving of big rollers.
A clear moon shone over all They
met nobody; the man who had vainIy
watched for the yacht had gone home.
Sibylla did not speak. Once or twice
she caressed Rollo, who knew her and
welcomed her. For the rest she
strudged steadily through the puddles
and set her feet resolutely to climb
the sticky road. She never looked up
at her companion. The brutality of his
pride rejoiced again to see her thus.
Here was a fine revenge for her scorn-
The San Francisco call., 1904-12-04

he went back alone to his home, and
there found the sleeping child But his
idea of that-the picture of the one
house and the other-was too fearful.
How could the two bear to think of
that? How could they stand there
and decide on that2 1t was unnatural
revolving, alien from humanity. Yet
they meant it. Blake doubted that no
more, and the conviction of it un-
manned him. He had been prepared
for scandal, he had been ready to risk
his life. Those things were ordinary;
but this thing was not. Scandal is one
thing; tragedy another. This grim,
unyielding pair of enemies threw trag-
edy in his appalled, face. 1t was too
much. A groan burst from his lips.
My God!" he moaned.
They both turned and looked at him
-Sibylla gravely, Grantley with his
rigid smile.
My God, 1 can't bear it," He was
writhing in his chair as though in
keen bodily pain. It's too awful We
we should think of it all our lives. 1
should never get rid of it. 1 should
see the poor little beggar's face! L
can't stand that. 1 never thought of
anything like that. L never meant any
thing like that. Poor little Frank. My
God, you can't mean it, Imason?"
You know 1 mean it. It's nothing
to you. The responsibility is ours
What do you count for? 1t was you or
another-that's all. Neither my life
nor my sons is anything to you"
But 1t would-it would always be
there. l could never sleep at nights.
l should feel like-like a murderer. For
PHYS sake
He came toward Grantley, stretching
out his hands for mercy. Grantley
made no sign. Blake turned to Sibylla.
She, too, was stiff and still, but her
eyes rested on him in compassion. He
turned away. and threw himself into
the chair again. A convulsive move
ment ran through his body, and he
gave loud sob.
Sibylla walked slowly away to the
hearthrug, and stood looking at the
agonized young man. Grantley waited
in immovable patience. The thing was
not finished yet.
THE horror of it," Blake moaned al
most inarticulately. He turned to weak
rage for an instant and Kissed across
to Grantley: If | had a revolver I'd
shoot you where you stand"
THAT would be better for me. but
not better for the boy said Grantley.
Il can't understand you," Blake
gasped, almost sobbing again.
why should you? My account is
not TO be rendered to you. If I've
ruined my wife's life-and you've heard
her say l have-if take my own and
my sons, what is it to- you?"
In Grantley's slow measured words
there breathed a great contempt.
What. he seemed to say. were any
great things, any stern issues, to this
unnamed hysterical creature, who
dressed up his desires in fine clothes,
and let them beguile him whittier he
knew not, only to start back in feeble
horror at the ruin that he had invited?
What was it all to him, or he to it?
1t was he or another. The real battle
was still between himself and Sibylla.
With what eyes was she looking on
this young man? He turned from the
collapsed figure and faced his wife
again.
But her eyes were now on Walter
Blake, with pleading. puzzled. pity
ing look. The next moment she
walked quickly across the room
and knelt down by his side, taking
one Of his hands in both of hers. She
The San Francisco call., 1904-12-04

bellion unquelled and her crime unex-
plated. Yet he waited fearfully TO hear
her voice again. Whittier would the
errant wits next carry her? Whittier
must they carry her? He seemed to
be able to answer that question in one
way only. They must go right back to
the beginning With a sense of list
ening to inevitable words, he hear her
soft, drowsy whisper again:
Let's ride straight into the gold,
Grantley. straight into the gold, and
let the gold"
The faint, happy murmur died away
in sigh, and her head, which had cen
raised a moment, nestled on his shOul-
der again.
1t had come-the supreme touch Of
irony whlchshe had foreseen and dread
ed. The er BIT wits had Overleaped the
stupendous gulf; they crimsOned the
cold rays of the moon into the glory
of summer sunset; they cOlOred
desolate ruins with the cleaning hues
of splendid youth. Her soul was again
in the fairy ride-the fairy ride which
had led whittier? Which had led to
this Nothing that waking wits, or an
ingenuity pointed by malice, might
have devised. could have equaled this.
She might have searched all her
armory in vain for so keen a weapon.
Nay, she would have rejected this, the
sharpest of all; no human being could
have used it knowingly. 1t would have
been too cruel. He listened in dull
terror for a repetition Of the words.
They had not come again. What
need? He heard them stiH and
groan broke the seal Of his lips.
MY God, must she do that?" ne
nuttered to himself Get on, Rollo,
get on"
For now the triumph faded away.
the unsubstantial pageant was no
more. There was no blare of trUm-
pets to deaden the mocking voice.
The little victory stood in its con-
temptible dwarfishness beside the
magnitude of his great defeat. That
the past had been, that the present
was-that was enough. The fairy ride
and the struggle in the inn-they stood
side by side and bade him gaze on the
spectacle. Beside this it seemed as
though he had suffered nothing that
day or night-nOthing in the thought
of ridicule and shame, nothing In the
jealousy and anger Of a fOrsaken man.
This thing alone seemed to matter
that the past had been that, and that
the present was this, and that they
had been so shaped in the hand OF
him. the fashioner of them
Then suddenly, with a quick twist
of thought, he was bitterly sorry for
Sibylla, because words and memories
which come back like. that, unbidden
and Of themselves. when the wits are
wandering, must have meant a great
deal and had a great place once. At
such a time the mind would not throw
ur trifies out of an unconscious recol-
lection. The things which have been
deepest in it, which have hlled-yes.
and formed it-those were the things
that it would throw up. In themselves
they might sound wild trifes, but they
were knit to great deep things. toward
which they stood as representatives
They expressed nethermost truths
however idle and light they sounded
When she babbled of riding into the
gold and sank her spirit in the men,
ory of the fairy ride. she went back all
unconsciously to the great moment Of
her life and to its most glorious prom
Use. She spoke of the crown Of all her
being.
The San Francisco call., 1904-12-04

heart: his set purpose was all he knew.
i don't see what you had to COM
plain Of" he said coldly. THE way
NE lived was YOUR choice, not mine.
But I'm not going to discuss that. I'm
here TO take you home to your hus-
bands house and to your child
I've faced all that a thousand times
and answered it a thousand times. 1t
can't move me now. You'd better go
away, Grantley."
Again Blake rose: he did not lack
physical courage.
I'll go with you. I'm at your SER
vice." he said. But outside; you
shan't stay here"
He waited a moment for an answer,
but getting none, nor so much as a
look, sank awkwardly into his seat
again.
GEantley spoke TO his wife
I know what happened. Before you
did this you fOgged your mind with all
sorts of fantastic ideas. You're not
the woman TO do this kind of thing
easily"
Fantastic ideas! Yes, they'd seem
so to YOU. The fantastic idea Of hav-
ing something to live for. some life,
something else than prison, than re-
preston. than coldness. 1 had lots OF
those fantastic ideas. Grantley."
You had your child"
Il tell you I've faced it." She pressed
her fingers bard into her cheek and
frowned. The child made it worse, -
she jerl1ed out fiercely. Seeing you
with the child was" She shook her
head with a shiver.
Grantley raised his eyebrows
AS bad as that?" he asked mock
ingly. He paused, and went on: But
this is all beside the point. Supposing
II was as bad as you say, what then ?
You had made your bargain; you chose
to take me: you relied on your own
opinion. Say it was a mistaken opin-
ion-what difference does that make %
1T does make a difference. I'm not
called upon to throw away every
chance Of happiness because Of one
mistake"
That's just what you are called
upon to do-in civilized society"
You don't actually propose an alb
stract argument? ?" she asked. Now
under these circumstances? She
smiled derisively.
"Oh, no. But your point Of view
compelled a protest. I'm not here to
argue; I'm here to take you back-or,
II you won't come. to tell you the con-
sequences"
I'm prepared for the consequences. .
That gave young Blake another
chance. He rose and came forward.
Yes. she is-and so am T." he said:
"and that ought to end the matter be-
tween US. We're prepared for the trou-
bic and the scandal and all that; and
I'm prepared for anything else you may
think proper TO ask. We've weighed
all that, and made up our minds to it.
That's the answer we have to give"
He spoke in a low voice, but very
quickly and with passion; evidently he
had hard work to keep control of HIM
self When he finished speaking, there
was moments silence. He looked
from Grantley to Sibylla, then went
back 70 his chair; but he drew it
nearer and listened intently.
1t is So" said Sibylla. We've made
up our minds TO all that"
Gr2ntley passed his hand across his
brow-almost the first movement that
ne had made. He was about to speak
when another short fit of vehemence
caught hold Of Sibylla.
Yes, she cried, striking the table
with her hand, "and it's better than
that lie Of sham and fraud and failure
The San Francisco call., 1904-12-04

Lcontinued Next sunday.l
The Farmington times and herald. (Farmington, St. Francois Co., Mo.) 1902-1905, 1904-06-03
SOUTHEAST NOTES,

James II Clark died mt his home
in lronton on the 2lst ult aged 90
years.
The corner stone of the PerryvillC
Court House is to be laid with an
elaborate program on June 4
The New Madrid Mssourian com
plains that Hospital No. is such n
heightened affair that the coored in
sane from that county have to be takcn
to Fulton.
a destructive lire visited Charleston
on the 10th ult., resulting in the de-
struction Of several business houses,
two residences and the fire engine
house. Six horses were burnt in the
livery stable where the fire started
The loss is nearly sS, 900 with insur-
ancc for less than half that amount.
DR.. c. j. Moffct is a graduate OF
medicine and has as much right to pre-.
scribe for the sick us any physician,
and gives TO mothers his ~ ETH.
INA" as the best remedy they can usC
for their teething children. "TEETH.
INA" Aids Digestion, Regulates thu
Bowels, Overcomcs and Counterfeit,
the Effects Of the Summers Heat ant
makes teething easy.
The Farmington times and herald. (Farmington, St. Francois Co., Mo.) 1902-1905, 1904-06-03
Judges are Human.

Golfers weekly takes exception
to Mr.. Bryan statement at Chi
cago to the effect that it is as i'm.
portant to have judges who sym
pnthlzr with the people as to have
judges learned IN the law" 1t
says
When sympathy takes the place of
fidelity to the law, the basis OF civilila-
ton viii be endangered The people
~ tins country are supposed TO he all
the people. and 1t is not for Judges to
make class determinations There are
wrongs to he rcmchicd some by lcgis-
latIun, some nv executive departments,
but the courts are to have an eve singly
To- what Is law, II we are TO succeed in
government As England has succeed.
cd "
II the editor of Golfers Weekly
knows so little about human ma
ture as to believe the elevation of II
man to the bench makes him Who'll,
~ impartial on questions that in
vOlve great interests, bis criticism
Of Mr. Bryan 5 statement can be
attributed to his lack of informa
ton. II, however, as is very prob
able, he understands the influence
TINT sympathy eXerts upon the
courts, his criticism merely proves
that his own Sympathics are with
the corporations that are control,
ing some of our judges, as well rs
the executive, the senate and con.
gress.
II is beautiful theory that the
Judge, when he takes his place up.
on the bench, purges himself of all
previously formed opinions and
Impressions, but the decision of
the Hayes-Tilden electoral com
mission showed that judges are ms
liable to bias as senators and con
gressmen. Will the editor of Col
ier's Weekly argue that the five
judges on that commission who di,
vlded on political lines each had
an eye singly to what is lawn"
viii he say the nine judges who
divided five to four on the income
tax each had an eye singly to
what is law" Will he say that
the nine judges who divided five to
four on the question of Imperialism
each had an eye singly to what is
law" Will he say that the nine
judges who divided five to four on
the merger case each had an eye
singly to what is lawi"
There is no known way in which
judncial sympathy can be entirely
extracted, and as some will necces-
sarily remain, it is important that
the judge shall sympathize with
the masses of the people who ask
only equal rights, and not with the
few who are always claiming spe-
cial privileges. If tibet rusts make
n man rich with big fees and then
make him supreme judge by the
aid of n president elected by trust
funds, may he not lean toward the
trusts' What does Golfers Week
y sayf-The Commoner.
The Farmington times and herald. (Farmington, St. Francois Co., Mo.) 1902-1905, 1904-06-03
A CAM PAlGN DISTORTION.
Mr. Folk Refutes a Weak Attempt Of
the Globe. Democrat to Connect
Him With the Lobby
From the Republic, May slst. I

From the Republic. May alst.
Circuit Attorney Folk yesterday
denied any knowledge regarding
an alleged telegram from Congress
man, W. ID Nandiver to John IL
Carroll, Attorney for the Burling.
ton Railroad Company, said TO
have been sent to the latter while
he was at Ouray Colo. Accord
ing to the story, the message was
as follows.
Six more counties for Folk.
Am following yonr telegram in
every particular
In several Howard County
speeches Mr.. Folk read telegram
from Mr., Vandiver, in which he
said the message was II cOmpaign
canard. Mr.. Folk said yesterday
that he did not know the Mr.,
White referred to III the printed
story, although he may have been
introduced to him along with many
others while in Howard County.
Il know nothing about the nj
legged telegram from Mr.. Nandiver
except this, " said Mr.. Folk
when was in Howard County |
heard that Mr. Reed had been
making statements MS to n purport.
ed telegram from Nandiver to Car
roll While ! was in Fayctte !. re.
ceivcd n message from Mr. Nandl
yer saying that Mr.. Reed story
concerning m alleged telegram to
Carroll was u campaign distortion
! rcad Mr.. Nandlver's telegram to
me at several meetings rs an eX
preston from him. had no other
information on the subject. | most
cmphatlcaily did not tell II Mr..
White or any one else that the tclc-
gram described by Mr., Reed had
been sent.
No such statement could by
any possibility have been made to
anyone, as knew nothing of it,
aside from MIR. Nandlver's telegram
to me "
Mr. NorSidc, who is in charge
of Folk headquarters in the ab
scnce of Mr.. Nandiver, laughed
when shown the publication
Something was published about
that ten days ago, said he, !
asked Mr.. Nandiver about it, and
he snid that he had never sent Mr.
Carroll hut two kilograms in his
life, and both of these were in ref
orence to Reeds annual pass over
the Burlington. Mr.. Nandivcr, it
seems, wanted information on the
subject. Mr., Carroll wired dcclln.
ing to give any, AND Requested
THAT HIS NAME RE not USED As
AUTHORITY FOR THE STORY. Mr..
NANDWER ACQUlESCED N TINS,
WHICH MAY RE THE BASIS or THE
TT BnISHED ALLEGATION