The Semi-weekly leader., 1907-01-26

When man deliberately, nay de-
| signedly entices his friends to exces.
sive drink, has them carried to his
room-in burst of good fellowship
cares for them, furnishes them up to
meet their lady friends, and incident
ally relieves them of ten-.twenty-
hfty, as the case may warrant, you
would call that man thief, would
you not? And with all good reason.
So then, Bettison was thief. But
wait; thief from necessity, not pref
erence. Certainly not the pinching
necessity that makes men beg bread.
shovel snow or work in mines, but a
sort OF refined want-the lack of those
| little dainties of life without which
some people find 1t next to impossible
to exist. The paltry two thousand q
year, Bettison argued, would be scarce
ly sufficient to keep him in trousers,
to say nothing of enabling him to wed
the fair lady of his heart, she who
claimed all that was good and best in
him.
A thief from choice is essentially
mean, scheming, without honor. A
thief from necessity may be none of
these things-or at least not all of
them-only weak, pitiably weak, and
with conscience.
Still we shall have to admit that
Bettison was thief, a common thief,
Notwithstanding this nicely of distinc-
ton.
On this particular morning the gen.
tleman in question reclined before an
open window, reading and rereading
post had brought him. 1t was the
third of series. The first had caused
him some uneasiness-mostly amuse-
ment-the second looked serious, and
now this other forced sense of dis
ttnct alarm upon him. The following
is what he read:
II have appealed to your honor,
your conscience, your pride-all to no
avail. I am now going to try your
common sense. Stop this miserable
practice at once. At present it is
known certainly only to myself, who
am your best friend. l don't wish to
disclose my identity, so take this, the
one way to help you. Common sense
will show you that, although over an
anonymous signature, there is only
truth in what l say. The time will
come when exposure will be inevita-
BILE. Take my advice. The world pro-
vides labor for every honest hand,
and you yourself have keen distaste
for this business. A FRIEND"
Bettison crumpled the sheet of pa
per viciously and tossed it in the fire.
place.
Oh such letter." he fumed. "If
the fellows really my friend, as he
says, why in thunder doesn't he come
to me in decent way and talk it
over" He snapped his finger with a
little gesture of annoyance and took
one or two excited turns up and down
the room. Then he paused in front
of the crate and fished out the crum-
pied letter from the charred ashes and
studied it narrowly. 1t is fact that
our attention to trivialities is very
marked at time of great seriousness
or Importance, and it is no less true
that our faculties are extremely dull
in the direct face Of overwhelming
evidence also. at such time.
Bettison studied the paper carefully
for traces of familiarity in the hand
writing to that of his friends-those
he numbered as such, rather. There
was something subtly familiar about
the shape of. the p's and his, but
close comparison failed to disclose
ing contained in letters he had re-
ceived from time to time from his
friends and acquaintances.
No one-not one of them, his vic
Tins, could have been the author He
felt almost sure of that much. In the
first place, they had really never sus-
pected-indeed, what should a man
suspect upon recovering from spell
Of alcoholism, except that he had
played the fool, spent or gambled
away his money, and been charitably
spirited off by thoroughly good fell
low who was bent only on protecting
his reputation, as any gentleman
would? Furthermore, even supposing
they could talk, would they? Hardly.
In all probability some one was
playing practical joke on him-or
maybe one of the men did vaguely,
just vaguely, suspect him and was
stretching this neat little trap to catch
him. That settled one aspect of the
case. Under no circumstances must
he cease suddenly to practice these
somewhat furacious little courtesies.
Such had been his intention while
back, but the letters put all thought of
that out of the question for the pres.
ent His marriage must be postponed
anything but that he should fall into
the trap, if trap it really was. He
could not be too cautious.
So the days came and went, with
every now and then renewed appeal
from the unknown friend" The let
ters finally grew ominous, almost
threatening, and Bettison grew nerv-
GUS, pale and restless. Where was his
alternative? If he kept the thing UP
he would be caught beyond a doubt;
if he stopped it, he would be caught
just the same. Then he bethought
himself of one possible way out of the
difficulty slim it was to be
sure, but nevertheless worth a trial.
He would give dinner to his friends,
his victims-all of them. At that din
ner he would bring up the subject of
the letters-it should all be a great
joke, joke on himself. He would
watch them, every one, watch them
like a hawk. singly and collectively.
Then he should knowi