The Caucasian. (Clinton, N.C.) 188?-1913, 1911-11-30

more tnan w1s tke nvfng - essns
and hotels good for ny stomach asa
The rest Of me. 60 quit cut every.
thing. absolutely. ard cane "a Iva r.
the VALLEY O. the Moon-shsg-x The
Indian name. yoa know. fu~ gonosna
Valley. lived n the Iean-fn the nfws
rear: then ! buff the cabin ard seq.
for my books. I never knew What hap
pine@a was before. nor health. Lock
=, ne nov and dare 20 tell me that
look fo-ty-seven."
I wouldn't gfve day over forty
Daylight confessed.
Yet the day | came here locked
nearer sixty. and that was -fifteoE
years ago.
They talked along. and Daylight
locked at the world from new angles
Here was . man. neither bitter ncr
cynical. who laughed 1t the city-tweii.
ers and called them iunatics: o man
Who did not care for money. and In
whom the lust for power had long
since died.
II was not until ten o'clock that
Daylight parted from Ferguson. As
be rode along through the starlight, the
idea came to him Of buying the ranch
on the other side of the valley. There
was no thought In his mind OF ever
intending TO live on It His gains was
In San Francisco. But 10 liked the
ranch, and a. soon n he rot back to
the once he would opsn up negotia-
tons with Hillard.
The time passed. and he played On
1T the game. San Francisco's attt
J tuds toward Daylight had undergone
a change. While he, with his slashing
buccaneer methods, was O distinct
menace to the more orthodox hnan-
cial gamblers, he was nevertheless 90
grave q menace that they were glad
enough to let him alone. He had al
ready taught them the excellence OF
letting a sleeping dog lie.
Dede Mason was still IN the Office.
He had made no more overtures, dis
cussed no more books. He had no
active interest In her, and she was to
him a pleasant memory OF what had
never happened, a Joy, which. by his
essential nature. he was barred from
ever knowing. Yet, while his interest
had gone to sleep and his energy was
consumed In the endless battles he
waged. he knew every trick Of the
light on her hair, every quick definite
mannerism of movement, every line Of
her figure as expounAed by her tailor
made gowns. Several times, six
months or 30 apart, he had increased
her salary, until now she was receiv-
this he dared not go, though he got
around it by making the work easier.
This he had accomplished after her
return from a vacation, by retaining
her substitute as an assistant. Also,
he had changed his Office suite, so that
now the two girls had room by them
selves. The more he saw of her, and
the more he thought he knew Of her,
the more unapproachable did she
seem to him. But since he had no in
tention of approaching her, this was
anything but an unsatisfactory fact.
He was glad he had her in his Office,
and hoped she'd stay, and that was
about all.
Daylight did not improve with the
passing years. The life was not good
for him. He was growing stout and
soft, and there was unwonted flabbi-
ness In his muscles. The more he
drank cocktails, the more he was COM
PEELED to drink in order to get the de-
sired result, the inhibiions that eased
him down from the concert pitch Of
his operations. And with this went
wine, too, at meals, and the long
drinks after dinner of Scotch and soda
at the Riverside. Then, too, his body
| suffered from lack of exercise; and.
| from lack Of decent human associa-
tons, his moral f1bers were weaken
ing. Never a man to hide anything,
some Of his escapades became public,
such as speeding, and Of joy-rides in
his big red motor car down to San
Jose with companions distinctly sporty
incidents that were narrated as
| good fun and comically in the news
| papers.