Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-11-13
Drawing by M. Leone Breaker
DR. DARLINGTON slid open his table drawer,
l y took from it his dented iron cashbox, and with
=. trembling hand laid it on his dngV hlOtter under

the lamplipht He threw back the lid inside two OBJ
lects appeared sheaf of papers bound with rubber
Something like groan escaped his lips He shook his
grizzly gray head. rested his anguish wrinked brow
his hand, and thought.
mo change since Yesterday" reflected he. None!
There can be none save for the worse Ruined! Done
for! At three what chance is there for man to
start fresh if any blight like this has fallen him,
pecally man like me, so largely at variance with the
commercialzed methods of the professional man
who's published the heretca things have; man
whose savings all lie there packet of bonds not worth
the ink they re signed with; man whose notes come
due week from yesterday, notes couldn't meet if
every dollar they given for was penny Oh merci-
full Lord!"
Unable to sit quiet in the meanly furnished little office
which of itself proclaimed his losing fight, he stood up
and began pacing three steps then three back
The narrow seemed to him already like prison
CELL Its heavy air sthed and choked him with its
scents of stale drugs He threw the window up: The
November night wind 1ared the lamp and made it fling
strange shadows up the walls, over the bare shelves
with their ptifuy meager array OF books and bottles,
across the few cheap pictures. Darlington breathed it
eagerly and flung back the toused hair from ms tore
head =,
'Ah but that feels good, thought" said he, with long
sigh. "Its kind, at least if nothing else is-nd the
night and the breeze Natures always kind It's only
and the institutions of men that are cruel; money
of all. Cruel brutal, fendish! But-there it IS,
after ALL the old situation If it was only my own
savings that had gone perdton that wouldn't matter
so much perhaps, even though I'm beggared; but the
funds of the society,"" He closed his eyes, to shut out
an evil sight, and leaned against the window casing un-
nerFen, utterly spent.
THE pistol" said he at last reused to thought by the
creakng of a branch in the garden outside The
pistol solution of it all! Just few grams of Pb COM
ing in contact with the corex-no pain no lingering ct
fects All over in a second! Solved Proved! Totaed
and found correct! Q.E.D! Only coward would hest
tate, Ell?
Why, if the soul fling the dust aside,
And naked on the air of heaven ride.
W .h a mot to aG Tor him
smile came to his lips He nodded. eyes, said he,
that's the living truth. The ways clear, way to pay
principal and interest and ALL More than mans life.
there's nothing he give. They can't say of me, at
any rate that violated professional ethics before
Til-till got roped in by that scoundrel Benyon my
hands were clean If I'd been sensational or faker like
Lawrence, perjured myself in the Jamison case like
Kent.-and Lord knows the chance | had, the clear,
free chance!-Id be on top now instead o-we IN the
lees. Food for thought in of this shouldn't won
DER but matter All that's gone and done with.
The books closed and the account with it. The rest is
just-goodby!"
He lowered the window again, slipped the catch, and
drew the shade down carefully that not even through
the crack could anyone peer from the porch
outside. Then he stepped back to the table
Down he sat, calm and collected now, in his worn
leather chair Out of the iron box he took the revolver
and laid the bloting pad The bonds he left in the
box which he locked and showed back into the drawer
The drawer in its turn he closed and locked.
November twenty-five. last day OF grace, said he
How many, now?" And he peered with sunken yet
steady eyes at calendar lying on his desk.
six? HIM! Enough to get me safe under ground.
After that, man not remembered long. He smiled,
as though relieved. 'Where shall aim? Temple? No,
nothing positive about that I've got theory it'll be
surer and quicker through the frontal bone If
drops best for a blow there, will We're only
cousins, a few times removed-cousins to everything
that lives
He reached his hand toward the revolver which, rusty
it was, still glittered here and there with Pickering
hghlights where the rays from the lamp fell upon it.
Yet he did not look the weapon. His eyes still dwet
on the calendar.
Curse the internal thng!" breathed he "Only for
that pledge, that OATH where mightnt be to-day"