Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1909-02-08
CHAPTER XVI.
The Real Edwin keatcham.

preSSlYe desire LOT tne SOlQleT CONl-
pany. He would have him sit in the
room, although too weak to talk to
him. supposing he wished to talk,
which was not at all sure. "1-like-to-
see-him- just-sitting- there" he faltered
to his nurse; "can't-he-read-or-play-sol-
itaire-like-the-old-lad
Sometimes Winter would be con-
scious that the feeble creature In the
bed, with the blush white face. was
staring at him. Whether the CLASSY
eyes beheld his figure or went beyond
him to unfinished colossal schemes
that might change the fate Of con-
tinent, or drifted back ward to the pow
erty-stricken home, the ferocious toll
and the amending self-denial OF
Keatcham's youth on the Pacific slope,
the dim gaze gave no clew. All that
was apparent was that it was always
on Winter, as he curled his legs under
his chair, wrote or knitted his brow
over rows Of playing-cards.
At the very first. Keatcham's mind
had wandered; he used to shrink from
imaginary people who were in the
room; he would try to talk to them,
distressing himself painfully, for he
head on the pillow; he would feebly
motion them away. In such abera-
tons he would sometimes appeal, In
a changed, thin, childish voice, to the
obscure, toil-worn pioneer woman who
had died while he was lad. Mother,
l was good boy; always got up
when you called me, didn't I? helped
you iron when the other boys were
playing-mother, please don't let that
old woman stay and cry here!" Or he
would plead: Mother, tell her, say
you tell her / didn't know her son
would kill himself couldn't tell--he
was damn coward. anyhow-excuse
me, mamma, I didn't mean to swear.
but they make me so awful mad!"
There was girl who came. some
times, from whose presence he
shrank; girl he had never seen; nor,
indeed, had he ever known in the flesh
any of the shapes which haunted him.
They had lived; but never had his
eyes fallen on them Nevertheless,
their presence was as real to him as
that of the people about him whom he
could hear and touch and see. 1t did
not take Winters imagination long to
piece out the explanation of these ap-
partitions; they were specters of the
characters in those dramas of ruthless
conquest which Mercer had culled out
Of newspaper 'stories" and aff1davits
and court reports and forced upon
Keatcham's attention. Miss Smith
helped him to the solution, although
her own ignorance of MERGERS meth
cd was puzzling. How did he ever
know old Mrs. Ferris?" she said. He
called her Ferris and he talks about
her funny dress-she always die wear
a queer little basque and full skirt aft
er all the world went into blouses-
but how did he ever come across her?
They had place on the James that
had been in the family 100 years and
had to lose on account of the Tidewa-
ter; and Nelson Ferris blew his brains
out"
Don't you know how?' asked the
colonel. well, I'll tell you my guess
sometime. Who is the girl who seems
to make him throw fit so?"
I'm not sure; imagine it is poor
Mabel Ray; there were two of them,
sisters; they made money out of their
Tidewater stock and went to New
York to visit some kin; and they got
scared when the stock fell and the
dividends stopped; and they sold out
at a great loss. They never did come
back; they had persuaded all their
kin to invest; and the stopping of the
dividends made it difficult for some of
the poor ones-Mabel said she couldn't
face her old aunts. She went on the
stage in New York. She was very
pretty; she wasn't very strong. Any
way, you can imagine the end of the
story. l saw her in the park last win
ter when Mrs. Winter was in New
York; she turned her face away-poor
Nabcl!"
Through Janet Smiths knowledge
of her dead sisters neighbors, Win
ter got dozen pitiful records Of the
wreckage of the Tidewater. Mighty
interesting reading" he thought,
grimly, "but hardly likely to make the
man responsible for them stuck on
HIMSELF" Then he would look at the
drawn face on the pillow and listen to
the babblings of the boy who had no
childhood; and the frown would melt
of his brow.
He did not always talk to his moth
er when his mind wandered; several
times he addressed an invisible pres
ence as Helen and Dear" with an
accent Of tenderness very strange on
those inhexible lips. When he talked
to this phantasm he was never angry
or distressed; his turgid scowl cleared;
the austere lines chiseling his cheeks
and brow, faded; he looked years
But for the most part, it was
to no unreal creature that he turned,
but to Col. Rupert Winter. He would
address him with punctilious civility,
but as one who was under some obli-
cation to assist him, saying, for in
stance, Col. Winter, must beg you
not to let those persons in the room
again. They annoy me. But you
needn't let Mercer know that. Please
attend to it yourself, and get them
away. Miss Smith says you will. Elk.