The Dolores star., 1909-06-18

Jesuit in that the end always Ju...
the means, he stood a pillar in the
world Of finance. where there is
sometimes justice. but never any
mercy. Thirty-five years before he
brokers' ofiice. OF his antecedents
nothing was known until he broke
one of the famous gold corners In the
seventies, when a handsome, ruddy-
checked little Irishman bobbed up seA
renely from nowhere IN particular and
claimed to be the great Cavenaugh's
father. But his proofs were not con-
vincing. and when the son showed
decided contempt for him, he gently
subsidized into oblivion and was heard
Of no more. From time to time Car
formation regarding his sweetheart's
grandfather; but whenever he
broached the subject, however tact
fully. everybody concerned headed the
conversation for a different port
Darlington had never laid eyes on
the old gentleman, and, for all he knew
to the contrary. he might be myth.
He reasoned that in all probability the
grandfather was illiterate, uncouth,
and rather an awkward piece Of family
furniture to handle. when the family
proper were ingratiating themselves
into the Chippendales of society. I'm
fortunately. Mother Cavenaugh, good
hearted and amiable in her way, had
been stung by the bee of the climbers.
and her one ambition was to establish
herself and daughters in society: and
had not he. Darlington. come Of an
aristocratic family (poor. 1t is true).
the doors Of the Cavenaugh manor
would never have opened to his knock.
Even as It was. he was persona non
grata to the millionaire. who was mad
for duke In the family. Besides Cave
naugh bad his suspicious OF any law
yer who grubbed outside the breast
works.
Some doves circled above a church.
spire a few streets over the way.
breaking the sunbeams against their
polished wings. Finally they settled
on the slate roof and fell to strutting
and waddling and swelling their
breasts pompously. Darlington opened
and refolded the document. but he did
not take his eyes from the doves.
What should he do? What Ill wind
had blown this thing into his door
way! Nothing had warned him Of the
impending tangle. Until two days ago
Cavenaugh was at the other end Of the
world. so far as his investigations at
that time were concerned.
He struck match. The silver of
pine flared palely in the sunshine.
writhed and dropped, black and
charred. to the floor. He shrugged his
shoulders. Chivalry of this sort was
not the order Of the day. There was
something stronger than the voice of
duty. something stronger than the
voice Of the heart; 1t was the voice
of pity. which urged its appeal for the
hundreds of men and women who had
invested their all in the Cavenaugh
concerns. The thought of their ulti-
mate ruin. should Cavenaugh be per-
mitted to pursue his course unchecked,
bore heavily upon him. No. he could
not do It, He must fight. even II he
lost his all in the battle. 1t is fine
thing to right wrong. All the great
victories in the world have been won
for others than the victors. That
Cavenaugh was the father OF the girl
he loved must have no weight on the
scales Of justice.
Resolutely he thrust the document
into his coat pocket. closed his desk
and relighted his cigar. In that mo-
want ho hod nonnod ont hfo p1op ~
action. That very night he would