The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1905-01-24
The One
Letter ;,
CLAIMING POLLOCK
CLAIMING POLLOCI


Carter to dinner at Giovani's. This un-
Outstanding, the result of many misun-
derstandings. put an end to their en-
gagement, and they chose to hold the
wake over their dead love at the tiny
restaurant where it had been born
Neither talked much during the meal
and when either spoke, for some rea-
son not easily explained, 1t was in a
very low tone. The man said, II sup.
pose had better return your letters?''
There must be great many OF
them," responded the girl, the corners
of her mouth trembling into faint
smile.
Yes. In-in three years.
Il shall send yours tomorrow-that
is, shall send all but one should like
to keep one-in memoriam. May I?'
IF / may"
Certainly. "A fair exchange you
know
Claxton left her at the door. of her
apartment something less than an hour
later. On the way to his own home he
marveled that he should regret what
had happened so little. The petty quar-
rels of the past few months had worn
out his endurance, he thought, and rem
dered him Indifferent to their culmina.
ton He wondered how she felt about
it. AT all events, the separation would
leave him with more time-more time
to work, more time to devote to the
friends he had neglected since he had
begun caring for her.
In the matter of the quarrels he did
not consider himself blameless. He
realized this, and admired himself a BIZ
for the inherent generosity which pre-
vented his holding her solely to ac
count
Claxton reached his place" in rather
relieved frame of mind He opened
the door with key fastened to a silver
ring that she had given him on his
birthday and walked straight across
the library to his typewriter Beside
the machine was a tiny cushion she
had made for him to rest his elbow
upon when he was reading copy" He
recalled that it had come wrapped il
numberless pieces of paper, each one
inclosed inside the other, like the eggs
in Chinese puzzle. That was about
the time that the interest aroused by
his tale of Central American life hat
opened the hearts of editors toward
him
Somehow the detective story he ha(
intended to begin did not fly from hi.
finger tips as speedily as he had ex
pected. The first paragraph, after
writing which, he told himself, things
would go better, stood alone on tile
page, a succession of stilted and unin
viting sentences.
Not in the mood" he confessed a
last and strolled down Broadway to his
club. The boy at the door didn't know
him, and when, after satisfying the stu
pid fellow Of his membership, he saun
tered into the lounging room he was
in an exceedingly unpleasant humor
Parsons been here this EVENING"" ht
inquired brusquely of an attendant.
mo, SIR" replied the man. HE does
not come very often now, sir. Married
l believe"
Claxton cursed Parsons from the bot
tom of his soul.
"Graham?" he asked
'Mr. Graham was in about a weel
ago. We don't see him more than once
a fortnight
Funny" unused Claxton. "By George
l wonder if there's any one in the
placer
There was, in the writing room
Frederick Ford Ferguson, youth JUS
coaxing a timorous mustache into ex
istence and tolerated only for the SAKE
of his father, Major Ferguson, former
ly of the Ninth infantry. ClaxtoI
would gladly have passed the young
ster by, but he was hailed before h
could regain the hall.
''Stop bit, old chap. l want to reaC
you a line I'm sending to a friend Of
mine at Days. Rather clever letter
you know"
Claxton tore himself away and wen
back home. What was Miss Carter do
ing? He would have wagered hun
bred that Phelps had called and takeI
her out Confound Phelps!
The story went more smoothly, slim
ulated by the resentful energy of it:
author. From 10 o'clock until nearly
daylight the typewriter clicked inces
sanity When it stopped clicking, sever
pages of manuscript, much marred BY
pencil marks, lay on the table near a
hand. 1t was good story, he felt sure
although there were two or three de
tails concerning which he would have
liked a conservative opinion. 'I'll taxi
Virginia out for luncheon and read /
to her." he thought. Then he remem
bered that they had agreed never tt
see each other extraordinarily tina
Is.
The day, which began with his rising
at noon, dragged along monotonously
1t was hard to realize that he nigh
stood on his desk and harder still to b.
convinced that she would not call hin
up. Toward midafternoon Claxton un
locked drawer and took out the min,
packages of her letters that represent
ed correspondence of three years. HI
must choose the one letter and return
the rest to her.
To do this he must read every epis
tie in the nine bundles. Claxton, II
common with most men who write O.
act, was a sentimentalist, and he want
ed that the one letter should be tn
dearest of all. The first that met hi
eye he laid aside in the belief that
! would prove the dearest. Miss Carte
had penned 1t when he lay Ill of feve
at San Jose de Guatemala. "Your ca
BILE was repeated to me at Chicago
was the message otherwise should
have been with you now. l know thai
If your illness continued you would
need a nurse, and l felt that l coulC
not delegate to strangers the privilege
of attending you" 1t was a womanly
letter-the letter of woman mature il
heart and brain-and Claxton pondereC
long while before putting it aside.
Next came a telegram, sent to hi!
apartments before the telephone haC
been installed: Please come tonight
Am blue Have wired Minnie stay
home" A very sweet, dependent lit
tie message, but of course not to b,
thought of as the single memento o.
so close friendship as theirs haf
been. 1t was even preferable to retain
the short note which he had Away:
ascribed to her literary genius rathe
than to her feelings. Each thought o.
you, dropping into the waters of my
heart, produces ever widening circle;
of tender recollection.
Then there was an envelope from
her, on the back of which he had com
posed a fragment Of verse. 1t began:
Thou art so dear TO me, my love
| So dear and, oh, so necessary!