Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1909-09-10

painted pavements men crawled like In
sects-round moving spots, to each his
romance; under his hat.
The window was on the corner, over
looking the junction of three great high
ways OF humanity: Twenty-third Street,
with its booming cross-town cars,
stretching away into the darkness on
either hand; Broadway. forking OF to the
left. fits distances merging into not
F! glow of yellow radiance; Fifth Avenue
4 branching into the north with its desolate
sidewalks oddly patterned In areas OF
dense shadow and cold, clear hght.
! over the way the park doomed darkly,
| for all its scattered arcs, black ana
silent space. a we'll of mystery. &.
| 1t was late, quite late; the clock in
| front of Dorlan's (he craned his neck TO
see) made the hour one in the morning;
| the sidewalks were comparatively de-
] serted even the pillared portico OF the
4 Fifth Avenue Hotel destitute of loungers.
A timid hint of GOODNESS, forerunning the
dawn, rode up on the breeze.
! He looked up and away northward, for
many minutes, over housetops stenciled
black against the glowing sky, his gaze
yearning into vast distances OF space,
melancholy tingeing the complexion Of
his mind He fancied himself oppressed
by a vague uneasiness, unaccountable
as to cause, unless
From the sublime to the ridiculous
with a vengeance, his thoughts tumbled.
Gone the glamour of Romance In
twinkling, banished by rank materialism:
He could have blushed for shame; he got
slowly to his feet, irresolute, trying to
grapple with a condition that never be-
fore in HIS experience had he been called
upon 10 consider.
He had lust realized that he was fiat
strapped for cash. He had given his last
quarter to the cabby, hours back. He
was registered at a strange hotel, under
an assumed name, unable to beg credit
even for his breakfast without declaring
his identity and thereby laying himself
open to suspicion. discourtesy, insult. e.
OF course there were ways out He
could telephone Bannerman. or any other
Of half a dozen acquaintances, in the
morning; but that involved explanations,
and explanations involved making him
self the butt of his circle for many a
weary day.
There was money in his lodgings, in
the ChippendaIe escritoire; but to. get
1t he would have to run the gauntlet
Of reporters and detectives which mad
already dismayej him in prospect.
OHagan-ah!
At the head Of his bed was a tel
the hour, he turned to it.
"Give me nine-o-eight-nine Madison
please" he said and waited, receiver to
ear.
There was a slight pause; buzz;
the voice of the switchboard operator
below stairs repeating the number TO
Central; Centrars appropriately mechan-
ical reiteration; another buzz; a silence;
a prolonged buzz; and again the sound
ing silence.
"Hello!" he said softly into the trans
mitter, at a venture. -,
No answer.
"Hellor
Then central. irritably: go ahead.
You've got your party"
Hello, hello!'
A faint hum of voices, rising and
falling, beat against the walls of his
understanding. Were the wires crossed?
He lifted an impatient finger to Jtggle
the hook and call Central to order,
when-sometning crashed heavily. He
could have likened the sound, without
strain of imagination, to a chair be-
ing violently overturned. And then a
wonan's voice, clear, accents informed
with anger and pain: MOI and then
say. that's my mistake. That line
Won had's out of order. 1 had a call
for them a while ago, and they didn't
answer. Guess you'n have to wait"
Central! Central!' he pleaded desper-
ately II say. Central, give me that con-
nection again, please"
"Ah, say! WHAT'S the matter with
you, anyway? Didn't 1 tell you that
line was out of order? Ring on"
Automatically Maitland returned the
receiver to it's rest; and rose. white
Tipped and trembling. That woman's
voice
Continued in Next Issue.