The Washington herald. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1906-1939, 1912-03-31

tons to reach that point where thousands
cease TO count and where only seven
figures can bring happiness. There 10
many man who has travelled the down grade
TO the turning point and then suddenly shot
upward to a position in life from which he
can view the world and its cares without
feRr-and yet he Is far from his million. But
he is happy Just the same.
That is why, hiding in the pretty. well
built bungalow like home OF Thomas Carney
in the fruit lands OF Colorado there turks
romance-a romance Of the turning point,
Carney, II he were TO make an inventory.
perhaps would count his wealth at $4,000.
There was a time In his life when he not only
saw the lowest level looming below for his
family and himself. but death also. There
seemed TO be no hope-but that part Of the
story comes later.
Ten years ago Carney was a miner in the
lead and zinc district near Joplin. Mo. His
home was q rented one, small and shacklike.
He was married and had a small child. He
had little education. But one thing he did
possess-a passionate love for music. With
the trifiing money he had been able TO save
he had purchased a second hand organ. and
every night after the hard labor In the mines
was over he would seek the meager little
instrument. and then while his feet pumped
hard would pick out the wheeling notes OF
some simple melody with one clumsy, faher-
ing finger. OF musical training he knew
nothing. OF technique he was innocent. All
he knew was that within his soul was jun
bIed sort OF phantasmal something that was
continually crying for release, for the free
dom he could not give H.
Felt Latent Power.
II haunted him, that something. In vague
way he knew it was the great gift Of original
music. He realized that he held the latent
power OF composing and yet. try as he might,
he could not grasp IT. Sometimes. as he
worked, as the beats OF his pick sounded in
the echoing caverns Of the mind. It seemed
to bring him almost to the threshold of this
something-then bear him away again. On
those nights. Tom Carney would linger long
at the yeIlowed keys OF the old organ.
striving to bring that something forth, but
always failing.
But there came the time when the organ
became silent Of nights, while Carney. his
pipe cold and neglected. sat in the doorway
of the little house, looking far out to the
fading horizon. Sometimes he would allow
his head to drop into his hands. and his eyes
to close against the heartlessness Of II all.
Sometimes he would brace himself and rise.
determined that he would tell the little won-
an who wondered at his silence. at his grave
ness and at his dependency. Then he would
waver-and go back to the door again. TO see
the horizon grow more gray. more distant.
and finally TO fade in the darkness Of night.
For Thomas Carney had been TO see E
physician. He had told him OF afternoon
levers. OF nights OF wake tulness. Of an aching
sort of pain which seemed TO permeste his
upper breast. and yet be nowhere in particu-
lar. He had told him Of cough. And the
physician had given his prescriptions life
in the open air, in Colorado.
That might seem easy. But there were
things which held Carney back. Most OF
them might have been circumvented. One
could not Carney. in the sea OF life. had seen
the flashing white OF the loan shark as It
turned to devour. and he had become the
victim. There were few laws then TO pro-
tect the man who had been caught. He could
be pursued, bounded. nasged. prosecuted.
And Carney. knowing II, had stayed.
4
In Depths of Despair.
And staying. he knew what he faced There
was no escape for him. He must remain and
trust to chance. Perhaps the doctor had
been wrong. Perhaps he might get well and
make those payments regularly. But the
perhaps" seemed distant and far away.
There came the time when Carneys pay
checks began TO grow smaller. He was doing
less work and was being paid only for what
he did. There came the time when his pick
refused to swing in the afternoons when the
fever descended upon him. There came the
time when food nourishing food. grew
scarcer and scarcer in the Carney household.
The organ departed and q SO bill remained
behind in its place. Eight dollars Of II went
into the NAV OF the shark who gloated In his
Joplin once. The 81 went for food.
There was no use looking at the horizon
now. The light was fading fast enough for
Carney without him being reminded OF II.
Night was coming with rapid enough ad-
vances TO cast its shadows far before, ghast-
ly shadows which frightened. And far too
soon It arrived. One morning Carney got
word from the boss he wouldn't be needed
after that day. A stronger Elan would take
his place.
Down In the silence OF the earth Carney
thought of that short little sentence and tried
to make his numb brain realize the true i'm
port Of It. He tried to drive its dumb inactiv-
ity into thought. into the formation OF some
scheme for the future But there was none.
Had he not thought of the same thing for
months-and thought and thought and
thought Had he not risen from his bed in
the early hours Of the morning to walk out
into the air while the stars were still crisp
endeavoring. striving TO find a way out?
That ungraspable something long ago had
sunk into the depths OF unconscious memory.
Only one thought had remained. and. re-
manning. had dulled everything-even itself.
+
Imprisoned In Mine.
Carney allowed his pick to rise and fall.
painfully, slowly. Intellectually. He began
to speak to the silence all about him In that