Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-07-09


on the sofa and began to cry-it was such a
relief to have somebody there! | couldn't
look. Gordon was dead sure enough;
there was no doubt about it.
"He felt of Gordons heart and closed his
eyes; then he told me Gordon had been to
see him yesterday to borrow money. Harry
Hay didn't have it, and, not knowing how
serious it was, had refused. Then, after
ward hearing few things about Gordon's
affairs, he had raised a few thousands in a
hurry and had come to offer it to him, know
ing Gordon would be at my place. Think
of it, Ten minutes too late! Wasn't it
ironico He was good friend, God knows!
Harry Hay was wonderful What /
should have done alone, don't know. Of
course the suicide itself was awful enough;
but for Gordon to be found in my room, in
the room of an octoroon! Think of the
scandal! 1t would be terrific! Then, there
were Gordon's debts, his dishonesty-it
couldn't be! l pleaded with Harry to find
some way out
@What could we doo l took dose of
strychnine and it braced me up. Finally
Harry thought of plan.
"There's hack stand round the corner
he said. III go round there and see if can
jolly the driver into renting his carriage. Ii
/ can, think we can make it; if not, the
thing will have to come out. It's our only
chance, anyway So he left to try it.
II locked the door behind him, and went
into my room and lay on my bed thinking.
You can imagine how my mind worked. |
could see Gordon lying on the floor as
plainly as if l were in that room with him.
Hours seemed to 60 by before Harry Hay
rang the bell.
"When l opened the door didn't know
him at first; | was terrified. He had on
smelly cabdrivers coat and old high hat;
borrowed, | don't know how. l believe he
told the cabby it was practical joke He
told me to get on my hat and coat and wait
for him in my room. He went into the par
lor. Once he came to my door and asked
for warm water and towels. Then he re-
turned for cotton wool. oh, God! l d1dn
dare ask him what for.
"The third time he knocked he told me
that everything was ready. | gulped down
a drink of brandy, clenched my teeth, and
went in. wish could ever forget what l
saw! Gordon was huddled on the sofa. His
hat and gloves were on. He seemed to be
asleep-his head was turned away. The
hole in his temple was filled with cotton. l
felt myself fainting again, went to the bath
room, and dashed my face with water, then
returned. Harry had the hall door open.
well, we got the body down stairs some
how, one supporting each arm. held Oor-
don, while Harry looked out to see if there
was anyone who might see; then we carried
him into the cab. We got the body on the
seat and followed and sat down and held it
up. Then Harry ran up stairs for the suit
case and bag, threw them on the floor of the
cab, got on the box, and we drove off.
WAS there ever such drive, | wonder9
E" Past the Waldorf Astoria, past Sher
rvs and Delmonicos, in and out through a
stream of automobiles and carriages! The
body 1urched and swayed. Once it fell on
the foor-I had to lift him up! Past the
cathedral, the great hotels at the plaza, and
then we plunged into the park. 1t was cool
and dark. My last ride with Gordon Brew
ster, the last time | should touch his hand!
1t was the last service | could ever do for
him, | thought But there is still another.
You must help me. Can you have the heart
to refuse, after this?
"Gordon had lived alone in the Brewster
house on 72d-st., with nobody but an old
caretaker- Flint, his name was. l didn't
like him; but he was our only hope. Would
Flint consent to help us? That was the
question. If he would, we could manage it.
We stopped at the house, and Harry Hay
left me alone and went in to break the news
to the old man. He was gone sometime.
He must have paid Flint money, big money.
Ii IL ~. - 4, - I