Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-02-20
CHAPTER XVI.

| Durkn's first feeling, anonymously
enough, once he was out in the open air.
was ravenous sense of hunger. Through
all that busy day his only meal had been
| a hasty and half-eaten breakfast.
His second thought was at once both to
submerge and sustain himself in one Of
those Broadway basement restaurants
| where men perch on seats and gulp down
meals over a seat-fringed counter.
| Then he thought of Frances, of her anx-
| iety, of her long waiting. and he tried to tell
himself, valiantly enough, that another
| hour would make little difference, and that
| they would take their dinner in state and
at their ease, at the Beaux-Arts, or at
! Sherry's, or perhaps even at the st. Regis.
| The thought of her gave sudden, warm
glow to the gray fairness of life. born Of
| his hunger and WEAKNESS. He pictured her,
| framed in the gloom of the open doorway,
in answer to his knock the slender oval of
| her face touched with WEAKNESS, her shad-
| owy brooding, violet eyes grown suddenly
alert, even her two warm. woman's arms
, open, like 4 very nest, to receive and hold
/ him, and her motherly young shoulder to
! shield him. He laughed to himself as he
| remembered the time that he had described
| her as the victim of an "ngrowing ma
ternal instinct"-she had always seemed so
| ready to nurture and guard and cherish.
| She was woman he said to himself-with
| sudden. strange foreboding of he knew
| not what-who ought to have had children.
| She was one Of those deeper and richer ma
| lures he knew, who would always love Love
| more than she could love men.
What is electricity?" he had asked her
! one quiet night touched into wonder for the
| familiar miracle as they bent together over
their relay. while an operator five hundred
| miles away was talking through the dark
| ness. I'VE live and work and make life
| tenser with it. and do wonders with 1t, but,
after ALL who knows what it is?'
He remembered how the great shadowy
| eyes had looked into his face. And what
is love?' she had sighed. 1--WE live and die
for it, We see it work its terrible wonders;
but who can ever tell us what 1t is?'
Durkin had forgotten both his hunger and
! his WEAKNESS as he mounted the stairs to
his uptown apartment. where, he knew,
| Frances was waiting for him. He decided,
in his playful reaction of mood, to take
her by surprise. Sc he slipped his pass-key
silently into the door-lock and was about to
fling the door wide when the unexpected
| sound of voices held him motionless with
his hand still on. the knob.
1t was Frank herself speaking.
"Oh, Mack. don't come between him and
me now. It's all I've got to live for-his
| love! 1 need i'll need hm!'
The devil you do.' said muttered
| growl.
"Oh, I do! I always wanted the love Of
an honest man"
IAN honest man." again scoffed the deep
bass of the others voice. with a short little
II. i
honest man. Then what were you hanging
round Sunset Bryan for?'
Yes an honest man., went on the wom-
ans voice impetuously; 'he is honest in his
| love for me. and that is all l care! Leave
him to me- and I'll give you everything. If
it's money you want, I'll get you anything
anything in reason! l can still cheat and
lie and steal for you, if you likewit was you
who taught me how to do that!
Durkin felt that he could stand no more
of it; but still he listened. spellbound, in
capable of action or thought
1--WE got to have money!! agreed Mac
| Mutt quietly. That's true enough Then
he added insolenty, But l almost feel I'd
rather have your
NO, nor moaned the woman. seemingly
| in mingled horror and fear of him. only
wait and I'll get you what money l have
here-every cent of it! It's in my pocket
book here. i'm the front room!
Durkin could hear her short. hard breath.
| and the swish of her silk underskirt she
| futtered across the bare floor into the other
room. He could hear the others easy half
deprecating. half-mocking laugh; and at the
sound of it all the long banked. smoldering,
self-consuming fires of jealous rage that
| burned within him seemed to leap and burst
| into relieving flame. An invisible cord
seemed to snap before his eyes-it might
have been within his very BRAIN for all he
knew.
And now kill him. This one idea spun
| through his mind, the one living wheel in all
| the deadened machinery of consciousness.
Darling back until he felt the plaster Of
| the narrow hallway behind him, he flung
| himself madly forward against the door
again. He kicked with the solid fiat of his
boot-sole as he came against the light pine,
| painted and grained to look like oak
| 1t crashed in like so much kindling, and
second later white to the very lips, he was
| in the room, facing MacNutt.
In his hand he held his fve-shooter. 1t
was of blue metal, with the barrel sawed off
short. 1t had once been carried by China
man. and had figured in a Mock Duck
street feud, and had been many times in
| pawnshOps, and had passed through many
| hands.
AS he faced the man he was going to kill
| it fitted vaguely through Durkins mind
who-had said always to shoot for the
| stomach--it was the easiest and the surest
| He also remembered that his weapon had
| a rifled barrel, and that the long, twisting
bullet would rend and tear and iacerate as
| it went.
Before l kill YOU he heard himself
| aging, and the quetness of his voice sur
prsed even his own ears. before l kill
| you, l want to know, once for all, just
what that woman is to you
The other man looked vacantly down at
| the pistol barrel. within six inches of his
| own gross stomach Then he looked at his
enemy's face. A twitchng nerve trembled
and fiuttered on one side of his temple
Only two claret-colored botches of color
remained on his otherwise aShcn face.
| For the love of God, Durkin don't be a
| fool"
| MacNuttS ringers were working spas
| medically, and his breath began to come
| wheezily and heavily.
I'm going to kill you repeated Dur
| kin, in the same level monotone. But
what is that woman to your
MacNutt was desperately measuring
| chance and distance. There was not the
| shadow of escape through struggle.
ITS murder! he gasped, certain that
there was no hope.
| He could see Durkin's preparatory jaw
clench.
"You-you wouldn't get mixed up in cold
| murder like this.' MacNutt half pleaded,
! hurredly and huskily with his eyes now on
| the other mans. why, you'd swing for it,
| Durkin, You'd go to the chair.'
| Durkin uttered foul name, impatiently,
| and closed out the picture with his shut
| eyelids as he thrust his right hand forward
| and down.
| He wondered, with lightning-like rapidity
| of thought, If the blood would stain his
| hand.
Then he felt quick bark, and sud
| den great spit of pain shot through him.
The gun had exploded, he told himself
| dreamily, as he staggered to the wall and
| leaned there weakly, swaying back and
| forth. But why, didn't MacNutt go down?
he asked himself unconcernedly, as he
watched with dull eyes where jet of red
| blood spurted and pumped regularly from
somewhere in his benumbed forearm.
Nd hi, for x,sfo,