Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-12-01
SUNDAY MAGAZINE FOR DECEMBER 1. 1912
THE CASE OF JOHN SMITH
Continued from page II

Continued from page II
caption; As I said. 1 am on my way now
to see Coyle & Son."
John Smiths face became perfectly gray.
"And 1 am going" said Chester Kent,
looking the other in the eyes, "as your friend.
There is always some way in which to clear
an innocent man.
at isn't question of my innocence, y
burst from the younger man. dts bigger
thing than that Then suddenly, with a
strange gesture, he asked, what do you
want me to do!"
GO to your home and wait"
GAIL right. But-but you'll be gentle
with him. He thinks lot of me. And, he
added with sudden fury, IF any harm comes
GO to bed, said Kent briefly, "and try
to get some rest. | sha mt see you when We
get off in the morning."
TWELVE hours later Chester Kent sat
L kicking his heels and waiting in the pri-
vate Office of Patrick Coyle. 1t was a tiny
box in the midst of turbulence of over
work. Presently Patrick Coyle entered,
taking off his coat as he came in. He was
rosy little pippin of an Irishman, with deep,
furrowed forehead and white hairs. He
turned upon the visitor a look of haggard
expectancy.
"Do you know John Smith," asked Kent
abruptly.
The little Irishman's coat dropped to the
floor. He stretched out two shaking hands,
and his eyes were piteous. "Me bhoy!" he
said in the softest of brogues.
"But how so? l thought you were Mr..
Coyle?"
aYes," he said, "me adopted bhoy. But
me son, just as much"
"Then his name is Smith," Kent asked,
illogically glad that the young man had kept
faith with him even in the minor matter of
the name exchange.
$50 far as l know. You'll remember the
wreck of the Vanessa, off Duluth, twenty
years gone? I swum ashore wit him afther
a wave brought i'm to me. His kin was
up by hear-r-rt, my Johnny" Upon which
phrase he broke, and threw his arm across
his eyes.
But Man." Kent cried, "the boys alive!"
"Alive? Yes; but what's came to imp
he groaned. II have the turrible letter
from i'm. What's came to i'm at al?"
The agony in the old mans voice cleared
up one point. Here, without shadow of queS-
ton was the love, requited by the "bhoy"
with that love, @greater than which hath no
man. 1t was for him that the sacrifice had
been made, and well made.
"Safe," said Kent. Il left him not long
ago."
@You know my Johnny?" asked the old
man.
@Only chance acquaintance But be-
ieve I may call myself his friend; possibly
a friend in need"
The old man caught Kent's hand between
his own. "Bless you for that" he cried.
Gan be what name can tell God about you?'
Kent was uncomfortably conscious of
flushing. "My name is Chester Kent he
said. "I've done nothing SO far; but hope
to. There has been an accident"
@Is-is he hurted?" faltered Patrick Coyle.
@Not in the least. Sound and well; but in
trouble. If you would trust me so far as to
show me his letter, we can perhaps clear this
matter up between us"
THE old Irishman brought out the letter.
I 1t was a confused scrawl, telling moth
ing of the event in detail; but instinct with
tragedy. What Kent liked least about it
was paragraph stating that the deal was
off and that the money must be raised in
some other way, as the writer must 60 and
not return for a long time. "Try to trust
me, Dad he wrote. Il can see no other