Kingsbury County independent. (DeSmet, Kingsbury County, S.D.) 1894-1929, 1911-04-14
HALF A ROGUE
BY HAROLD MAC GRATH
Author of the Man on the Box, The Puppet Crown, Hearts and Masks, Etc.
Copyright Bobbs- Merrill Co. indianapolis.
By HAROLD MAC GRATH
L was"
This seemed to satisfy her.

Il was"
This seemed to satisfy her.
We'll, first / learned where you were
In the habit of dining. All day long a
messenger has been following you. A
telephone brought me to the restau-
rant. The rest you know. 1t was sim
pie.
Very simple" laconically.
You listened and believed. I have
been watching you. You believed ev-
erything / have told you. You have
even been calculating how this scene
might go in a play. Have I convinced
you that 1 have the ability to act?"
You have fooled me completely;
that ought to be sufficient recommen-
dalton. Miss Challoner, / apologize for
this letter. / do more than that l
promise not to leave this house till you
morrow morning" He was smiling,
and Warrington had q pleasant smile.
He had an idea besides. Good fortune
put it into my head to follow you here,
/ see 1t all now, quite plainly. / am in
a peculiar difficulty, and I honestly be-
iiev5 that you can help ne III OF Il.
How long would 1t take you to learn a
leading part? In fact, the principal
part?"
"A week"
Have you had any experienced"
"a short season out west in a stock
company"
Good"
And I love work"
d not build any great hopes,' he
warned, for your chance depends upon
the whim Of another woman. But you
have my word and my good offices that
something shall be put in your way"
Many months passed after the
episode previously related. Warning
ton sat in his apartment. He laid down
his pen, brushed his smarting eyes
lighted his pipe, and tilted back his
chair. The scenario was done; the viii
lain had lighted his last cigaret, the
hero put his arms protectingly around
the heroine, and the irascible rich I'M
Gle had been brought to terms.
Warrington was 35 now. The grey
hair at the temples and the freshness
OF his complexion gave him a singu-
larry youthful appearance. His mouth
was even-lipped and rather pleasure
loving, which, without the balance OF
a strong pose, would have appealed to
you as effeminate. W~arrington's was
what the wise p~hrenologists call the
fighting nose; not pugnacious, but the
nose .? . naac who @H! 6Sht Cor THAT
he believes to be right, fight bitterly
and fearlessly. Today he was famous,
a leading American dramatist, but only
yesterday he had been fighting, retreat
ing, throwing up this redoubt, digging
his trench; fighting, fighting. Poverty,
ignorance and contempt he fought;
fought dishonesty, and vice, and treach-
cry, and encouragement.
Presently he leaned toward the desk
and picked up a letter. He read 1t
thoughtfully, and his brow drew to-
gether:
Richard Warrington-You will smile,
| know, when you read this letter,
doubtless so many like 1t are mailed to
you day by day. You will toss II into
the waste basket, too, as 1t deserves to
be. But IL had to be written. How
ever. l feel that l am not writing to a
mere stranger, but 10 a friend whom /
| know we'll. Three times you have en-
tered into my lire, and on each occa-
sion you have come by a different ave-
nue.. / was i'll at school when you first
| appeared to me. 1t was a poem in a
magazine. 1t was so full of the spirit
of joyousness, so full of kindness, so
rich in faith and hope, that / cried yer
1t, cut 1t u and treasured 1t, and re-
read 1t often In the lonely hours when
things discouraged MEETINGS which
mean so little to women but SO much
to girls. Two years went by, and then
came that brave bookl 1t was like COM
ing across a hal~f-forgotten friend. I
actually ran home with 1T, and sat up
all night to complete 1t. 1t was splen-
did. 1t was the poem matured, broad
| ened, rounded. And finally your first
play! How I listened to every word,
watched every move! l wrote you a
letter that night, but tore 1t up, not
having the ourag to send IL to you.
How versatile you must be; a poem. a
book, a play! / have seen all your
plays these five years, plays merry
and gay, sad and grave. How many
times you have mysteriously told me
to be brave! I envy and admire you.
| What an exquisite thing 1t must be to
hear ones thoughts spoken across the
f~ootlightsi Please do not laugh. It
would hurt me to know that you could
laugh at my honest admiration. You
won't laugh, will you? I am sure you
viii value this letter for its honesty
rather than for It's literary quality. l
have often wondered what you were
like. But after all, that can not mat
ter, since you are good and kind and
wise; for you can not be else, and
write the lofty things you do"
Warrington put the letter away,
placed Il carefully among the few
things he held OF valdc! 1t would not
be true TO say that IL left him unaf-
fected. There was an innocent barb in
this girlish admiration, and 1t pierced
the quick OF all that was good In him.
Good and kline and WISE he unused.
IF only the child knew! Heigh-ho, /
am kind. sometimes I've been good, and
often wise. Well, 1 can't disillusion the
child. happily; n has given me no adj
dress"
He rose, wheeled his chair to a win
dow facing h street, and opened IL.
The cool, fresh April air rushed in,
clearing the room of it's opalescent
clouds. cleansing his brain of the fever
that beset IL. He leaned with his elbow
on the sill and breathed noisily. CRATE
fully.
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