Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1909-06-03

1906 the apprehensions of
~ Philip Kirkwood, Esq, paint
er, were enlivened by the discovery
that he was occupying that singularly
distressing social position which may
be summed up. succinctly in a phrase
through long usage grown proverbial,
"alone in London" Inevitably an ex-
tremist because Of his youth Che had
just turned tw%enty-1ve), he took no
count Of mitigating matters and would
holly have resented the suggestion
that his case was anything but alto
gether d%eplorable and forlorn.
That he was not actually at the end
of his resources went for nothing. He
held the distinction a bubble, mock
ingly immaterial, like the store of
g%uineas in his pocket, too insignificant
for mention when contrasted with his
needs. And his base of supplies, the
American city Of his nativity, whence,
and not without a glow Of pride in his
secret heart, he was wont to register
at foreign hostelries, had been arbi-
trarily cut off from him by one Of
those accidents s%ardonically classified
by insurance and express corporations
as acts of God.
Now, to one who has lived all his
days serenely in accord with the die
tates of his own sweet will, taking no
thought for the morrow, such a situ-
alton naturally seems both appalling
and i%ntolerable, at the first blush. 1t
must be confessed that, to begin with,
Kirkwood drew a long and disconso-
late face over his fix.
Then he resolutely shrugged it off
and went in search Of mans most
faithful dumb friend-to wit, his pipe,
the which, when found and filled, he
lighted with a spill twisted from the
envelope of a cable message.
Its about time" he announced,
watching the paper blacken and burn
In the CRATE fire, "that I was doing
something to prove my title to a liv-
ing" And this was all his valedictory
to a vanished competence. anyway,
Pm a sight better off than those poor
devils over there. 1 really have a
great deal to be thankful for now that
my attentions drawn to it,"
For the ensuing few minutes he
thought it all over, soberly, but with a
stout heart, standing at a window of
his bedroom in the Hotel pless, hands
deep in trousers pockets, pipe Tuning
unanimously, his gaze wandering out
over a blurred intinitude of wet, shin
ing roofs and sooty chimney pots.
There came a rapping at the door.
Kirkwood removed the pipe from be-
tween his teeth long enough to say
"Come in!' pleasantly.
The knob was turned, and the door
opened. kirkwood, swinging on one
heel, beheld, hesitant upon the thresh-
D old, q diminutive figure in the livery
! of the Pless pages.
i "Mr. Kirkwood?"
y Kirkwood nodded.
n "Gentleman to see you, sir"
M Kirkwood nodded again, smiling.
81 "Show him up, please" he said, but
before the words were fairly out Of
This mouth a man stepped into the
room.
s "Mr. Brentwick!' Kirkwood almost
Shouted, jumping forward to seize his
ii VISITORS hand.
N8 my dear boy!" replied the latter,
sSsAsI'm delighted to see you. Got your
note not an hour ago and came at once
you see."
cit was mighty good of you. Sit
8down, please. Here are cigars. Why,
a moment ago I was the most miser-
able and lonely mortal on the foot
stool."
'I can fancy" The elder man looked
IND, smiling, at Kirkwood. 'The man
agement knows me-" he offered ex-
planation Of his u~nceremonious appear
sAnce, $50 I took the liberty Of following
the heels Of the bell hop, dear boy.
AEnd how are you? Why the anxious
Aundertone I dc .ected In your noteY"
He continued to stare curiously into
Kirkwood's face. At a glance this
" Ar. Brentwick wa a man of tallish
4gure and rather slender. with a coun-
eenance thin and flushed a sensitive
mink. out Of which his eyes shone,
en-, alert, humorous and a trace
W1stful behind hts glasses. Ills years