Twice-a-week plain dealer. (Cresco, Howard County, Iowa) 1895-1913, 1906-03-09

light hearted friend would not return
for many hours, and so, having no
mind to read and no belief that he
could If he tried, he went out to walk
the streets. He went down to the river
first, and stood for a little while gaz-
ing at the ruins of the two warehouses.
and that was like man with a head
ache beating his skull against wall.
As he stood on the blackened wharf
! he saw how the charred beams rose
above him against the sky like gal
lows, and it seemed to him that moth
/ Ing could have been q better symbol,
Tor here he had hanged his self respect.
! "Reproach her" He, who had so dis
played his imbecility before her! Had
he been her fathers best friend he
should have had too great sense of
shame to dare to speak to her after
that night, when her quiet intelligence
had exhibited him to himself and to all
the world as naught else than q fool
and noisy one at that!
Suddenly shudder convulsed him.
He struck his open palm across his
forehead and spoke aloud, while, from
horizon to horizon, the night air grew
thick with the whispered laughter Of
observing hobgoblins:
"And even If there had been no stair.
way, we could have slid down the
hose liner
He retraced his steps. tall, gray fig
ure moving slowly through the blue
darkness. and his lips formed the heart
sick shadow Of smile when he found
that he had unconsciously turned into
Carewe street. Presently he came to
gap in hedge, through which he
had sometimes stolen to hear the sound
Of harp and girls voice singing,
but he did not enter there tonight,
though he paused moment, his head
bowed on his breast.
There came sound of voices. They
seemed to be moving toward the hedge,
toward the gap where he stood, one q
mans. eager. quick. but very musical;
the other girls, rich and clear con.
traito that passed into Toms soul like
a psalm of rejoicing and like a scim-
liter of fame. he shivered and moved
away quickly, but not before the mans
voice, somewhat louder for the mo-
ment, came distinctly from the other
side of the hedge
AFTER ALL" said the voice, with a
ripple of laughter-"af all, weren't
you little hard on that poor Mr..
Gray?"
Tom did not understand, but he knew
the voice. 1t was that Of Crailey Gray.
He heard the same voice again that
night and again stood unseen. Long
after midnight he was still tramping
the streets on his lonely rounds when
he CHANGED to pass the Rouen House,
which hostelry bore to the uninitiated
eye the appearance of having closed
its doors upon all Inequalities for the
night in strict compliance with the law
Of the city fathers, yet slender wand
Of bright light might be discovered I'M
derneath the street door of the bar
room.
From within the merry retreat issued
an uproar Of shouting raucous laugh
ter and the pounding of glasses on ia
bles, heralding all too plainly the by
pocrisy Of the landlord and possibly
that of the city fathers also. Tom
knew what company was gathered
there gamblers, truckmen, drunken
farmers, men from the river steamers
making riot while their boats lay at
the wharf, with motley gathering of
good-for-nothings Of the back alleys
md f{nr1frn nj lyo -,
street stores. There came loud cries
for song, and in answer the voice of
Crailey rose over the general din, some
what hoarse and never SO musical when
he sang as when he spoke, yet so touch
ing in its dramatic tenderness that soon
the noise fell away, and the roisterers
sat quietly to listen. 1t was not the
drst time Ben Jonson's song had stilled
disreputable company:
IT sent thee late rosy wreath.
Not SO much honoring thee
As giving It the hope that there
It might not withered be-"
Perhaps just then vanrevel would
have wished to hear him sing any
thing in the world rather than that, for
on Crailey's lips it carried too much
meaning tonight, after the voice in
the garden. And Tom fingered no
more near the betraying silver Of light
beneath the door than he had by the
gap in the hedge, but went steadily on
his way.
Not far from the hotel he passed a
small building brightly lighted and
echoing with unusual clamors of indus
try-the Office Of the Rouen Journal.
The press was going, and Mr.. Cum
mings thin figure crossed and re,
crossed the windows, while his voice
could be heard energetically bidding
his assistants to Look alivep' SO that
Tom imagined that something might
have happened between the Nueces
river and the Rio Grande, but he did
not stop to ask the journalist, for he
desired to behold the face Of none of
his friends until he had fought out
some things within himself. So he
strobe on toward nowhere.
Day was breaking when Mr.. Gray
climbed the stairs to his room. There
were two flights, the ascent Of the first
Of which occupied about half an hour
OF Crailey's invaluable time, and the
second might have taken more of it or
possibly consumed the greater part of
the morning had he received no assist
ance; but, as he reclined to mediate
upon the first landing, another man en-
tered the hallway from without, as.