Middletown transcript., 1909-04-17
The Mediocrity Of Charters
BY RALPH STOCK

j
might have made a difference, at
others I am sure it could have
made none, and now-it is be-
side the question-she has been
married a year, and is, 1 believe.
happy.
1 thought as much, said the
other, quickly. This is a mood,
prolonged, but mood; it will
pass, believe me, and you will go
back where you belong.
Charteris's gaze was centred
on the white square of windows.
1t was now quite dark, and the
cold outside had increased, for
the snow clung to the glass
without melting. He shook his
head slowly, slowly, squared his
rounded shoulders, and rose from
the piano stool.
7 think not, he said, quietly.
do you like bed, and can you
sleep between blanketY I'm.
afraid we don't run to sheets.
They entered a tiny bedroom
-
off the sitting room and Charteris
carried the lamp to the dressing
table. When he turned the
stranger was leaning over the
bed examining an old portrait
that hung on the wall. 1t was a
clever piece of work, for the wo-
mans face it depicted was not
physically beautiful-the features
were. too irregular for that-yet
the lighting and treatment had
given it a mysterious, almost
ethereal effect, strangely msgne-
tic.
The stranger still examined it
intently, his lips parted, his eyes
fixed; the tenseness of the atti-
tude arrested Charteris's atten-
ton.
You think it better than the
others !? he suggested, You're
right, it is.
Is this, said the other, without
turning his head, is this what
might have made the differenceP
Yes, said Charteris. Good
night.
His hand was on the door. The
other turned abruptly.
You must pardon me, he said:
I had no wish to intrude-you
see, she is my wife.
Morning brokecWith the storm
still raging. The thermometer
registered ten below zero, and
the snow fell and drifted in cease
less clouds.
A three days, blizzard, com
mented Charters at the break
fast table, straight from the
worst quarter: 1 shall never
adapt myself enough-to forget
my poor devils of riders in
weather like this, though they
would be the first to resent pity.
The cattle will drift south till
they come to wire; the wire will
be cut, perhaps and they'll go
further south, and the men with |
them, and on, and on, until the
storm is over or they drop. Ex-
cuse my grumbllngs, he added,
reaching for the others cup, to
me thore's nothing quite so de-
as a prairie blizzard.
The stranger went over to the
window, and stood looking out at
the cruel white clouds of driving
snow.
It's very wonderful, he said
It makes one feel small.
find myself respecting it inor.
dinately. How long would it
take to get to town.
Thirty miles, against this, re-
dected Charters, and with a liv-
cry stable horse-about eight
hours, if you got there at all, but
don't talk of such things.
l must go, said the other, firm
". 1t is good of you to suggest
my staying, but l must get back
somehow to day.
1t would be madness, Charters
protested, you don't know the
country, and you don't know these
I have no one to send
with you.
There was set abstraction in
The others eyes.
| know, he said, with quiet IN
sistence, but l must go. She is
N the town Wanting, and I said
should be back. She will be
Gharteris rose abruptly, aud
-ook down a fur coat behind the
stove.
Put this on, he said. You can
cave it at the hotel, and remem-
per, # you get off the trail, let
me horse take you. Don try to f
AXE him-he knows his stable.