Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1911-08-04
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THE ROOT OF EVIL
BY THOMAS DIXON
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Copyright, 1911, by Thomas Dixon.
Pub. by Doubleday, Page & Co., N. Y.

master of millions. Here tonight, or
this marsh, in this desert Of freezing
waters, you're an insect, you're a mi
crobel"
I'm man enough to take no more
orders from a one-horse lawyer" Biv-
ems answered, savagely.
"All right, to hell with you!" Stuart
said, contemptuously, as he turned
and left him.
He began to walk briskly along the
marsh to keep warm.
Nan was playing the soft strains
of an old-fashioned song. He stopped
and listened a moment in awe at the
strange effects. The sob and moan OF
the wind through the yachts shrouds
and halyards came like the throb of a
hidden orchestra, accompanying the
singer in the cabin. The old song STIR
red his soul. The woman who was
singing it was his py every law OF
nature. The little shrivelled, whining
fool, who would die If he left him
there, had taken her from him; not
by the power of manhood, but by the
lure of gold that he had taken from
the men who had earned it.
All he had to do tonight was to apply
the law Of self-interest by which this
man had lived and waxed mighty, and
tomorrow he could take the woman he
loved in his arms, move into his palace
it's master and hers. There could be
no mistake about Mans feelings
He had read the yearning of her heart
with unerring insight. Visions of a
life of splendor, beauty and power with
her by his side swept his imagination
A sense of fierce, eXultant triumph fill
ed his soul. But most alluring of all
whispered joys was the dream of their
love-life. The years of suffering and
denial, of grief and pain, Of bitterness
and disappointment would make its
final realization all the more wonder
full. She was just reaching the matur-
ity of womanhood, barely thirty -one
and had yet to know the meaning OF
loves real glory.
She's mine and I'll take her!" he
cried at last Let the little, schem-
ing, oily, cunning scoundrel die to-
night by his own law of self-interest-
I've done my part"
Again the music swept over the
white foaming waters. His heart was
suddenly flooded with memories of his
boyhood, it's dreams of heroic deeds;
his mothers serene face; his fathers
high sense of honor; and the traditions
of his boyhood that make character
noble and worth while, traditions that
created a race of freemen before dol
lar became the measure Of American
manhood.
Have 1 done my part?" he asked
himself, with a sudden start. IF he
has his way he will die. Peevish, fret
full, spoiled by the fiattery of fools, he
is incapable of taking care of himself
under the conditions in which he finds
himself. If consent to his death am
/ not guilty of murder? Out of the
heart are the issues of life! Have
the right to apply his own law? Could
| save him in spite of himself if
made up my mind to do it? Pride and
ceremony, high words and courtesy
cut no figure in this crucial question
Could save him if l could? If l can
and don't, I'm a murderer"
He turned quickly and retraced his
steps. Bivens was crouching on his
knees with his back to the fierce, icy
wind, feebly striking his hands to-
gether.
Are you going to fight your way
with me back to that yacht, Calf" he
asked sternly.
Il am not" was the short answer
Il am going to walk the marsh till -four
O'Clock"
You haven't the strength. You
can't walk fast enough to keep from
freezing. You'll have to keep it uI
eight hours. You're cold and wet and
exhausted. It's certain death if you
stay. That water is rising fast. Ir
ten minutes more it will be dangerous
to try it, Will you come with me?"
I've told you I'll take my chances
here and l want you"
He never finished the sentence. Stu
art suddenly gripped his throat, threw
him fiat on his back, and while he
kicked and squirmed and swore, drew
cord from his pocket and tied his
hands and feet securely.
Paying no further attention to his
groans and curses, he threw his little
helpless form across his shoulders
plunged into the water and began hi!
struggle to reach the yacht. 1t was {
difficult and dangerous task. The
weight of Bivens's inert form drove
his boots deep into the mud, and th'
winds gusts of increasing fury threat
ened at almost every step to hurl then
down. Again and again the wave!
broke on his face and submerged then
both. Bivens had ceased to move Ol
make a sound. Stuart couldn't tel
whether lie Hdu DeeH SlIdllSlSu Wy lii'
freezing water or choked into silence
by his helpless rage.
At last ne struggled up the gangway
tore the cabin door open, staggered
down the steps into the warm, brigh
saloon, and fell in n faint at Nan:
| feet.
The doctor came in answer to he
screams and lifted Bivens to his state
room, while Nan bent low over th'
prostrate form, holding his hand t
her breast i'm u close, agoniZing clasp
while she whispered:
Jim, speak to me! You can't di'
yet, We haven't lived"
| He sighed and gasped:
| rs he alive"
Yes, in his stateroOm there, cursin,
you with every breath"
The young lawyer closed his eyes
blinded with tears, murmuring owe
| and over again:
Thank God!-Thank Cod"
|