The Caldwell watchman. (Columbia, La.) 1885-1946, 1911-08-04

have been hard to suggest an improve
,nent in him, he approached so near
the ideal standards. He was fine
grained, supple, slender, small-jointed,
thoroughbred from head to heel.
Intellectually, he had been good
enough to go through the academy at
West Point with credit, and to grad
uate high enough III his class to be
assigned to service in the cavalry. His
standards of conduct. his ideas of hon.
or and morality had been about The
same as those of the best third Of his
classmates. II his fellow officers in
the Philippines, during the year or
two he spent in the service. had been
asked to pick a flaw in him, which
they would have been reluctant to do,
they would have said that he seemed
to them a bit too thin-skinned and
rather fastidious; that was what his
chum and only intimate friend, Perry
Hunter. said about him at any rate.
But he could afford to be fastidi-
Gus, for he had about all a man could
want, one would think. For three
generations they had taken wealth
for granted in the Cayley family, and
with it had come breeding. security
of social position. simplicity and ease
in making friends, both among men
and women. In short. there could be
no doubt at all that up to his twenty
ninth year Fate had been ironically
kind to Philip Cayley. She had given
him no hint, no preparation for the
stunning blow that was to fall upon
him. suddenly, out Of SO clear sky.
When it did fall, 1t cut his life
clean across; so that when he thought
back to that time now, 1t seemed to
him that the Lieutenant Cayley of the
United States army had died over
there in the Philippines, and that he,
the man who was now soaring in those
great circles through the arctic sky,
was a chance inheritor Of his name
and of his memory.
He had set out one day at the head
of a small scouting party, the best
liked man in the regiment, secure in
the respect, in the almost fatherly re.
gard, of his colonel, proudly conscious
of the almost idolatrous admiration
of his men and the younger oficers.
He had gone out believing that no
one ever had a truer friend than he
possessed in Perry Hunter, his class.
mate at West Point, his fellow officer
in the regiment, the conhdant Of all
his hopes and ideals.
He had come back. aft1 q fort
nights absence, to find hh name
smeared with disgrace, himiSf judged
and condemned. unheard. inthe opin.
ion OF. the mess. And thaH was not
the worst 81 IL 1nSnlinB NV Which
had deprived him Of the regard Of the
only people in the world who matter
ed to him, destroyed, also, root and
branch, his affection for the one man
Of whom he had made an intimate.
The only feeling that It would be pos
sible for him to entertain for Perry
Hunter again must be Multiplying,
half-incredulous contempt. And II
that was his feeling for the man he
had trusted most ana loved the most
deeply, what must be itfor the rest OF
humankind? What did 1t matter what
they thought of him or what they did
to him? All he wanted Of human 80
ciety was to escape from Il
He fell to wondering, as he hung
suspended. over that rosy expanse Of
heecy fog. whether. were the thing to
do over again, he would act as he had
acted FIVE years ago; whether he
would content himself with single
disdainful denial Of the monstrous
thing they charged him with; whether
he would resign again, under ire, and
go away, leaving his furnished name
for the DAVIS to peck at.
Heretofore he had always answered
that question with q fierce af1r ma
tive. Today it left him wondering
Had he stayed, had he paid the price
that would have been necessary tt
clear himself, he would never have
found his wings, so much was clear
He would never have spent those
four years in the wilderness, working
experimenting, taking his life In hi
hands, Day after day, while he master
ed the art that no man had ever mas
tered before.
He had set himself this task because
It was the only one he knew that dit
not involve contact with his fellow
beings. He must have something tina
he could work at alone. Work ant
solitude were two things that he hat
felt an overmastering craving for. Ant
the possibility he had faced with
light heart every morning-the posi-
bility Of a sudden and violent dealt
before night, had been no more T
him than an agreeable spice to tn
days work.
It was not until he had actuall.
learned to fly, had literally shaken tn
dust Of the earth from his feet ant
taken to the sky as his abode. that hi
wound had healed. The three month
that he had spent in this upper arctt
air, awning for 16 hours out OF q, ha'
Gained him, put his nerves IN tun
again; given him for men and thei
affairs a quiet indifference, IN plac
of the smarting contempt ne had bee
| hugging to his breast before. Tire
months ago. at sight Of those littl
human dots crossing the glacier, b
would have wheeled aloft and gon
sailing away. Even month ago h
| would hardly have hung. soarin
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