Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1913-08-14
BY BRAND WHITLOCK

look for a sketch he had promised No
Ian for the sporting page. And there
on his drawing board was an untin-
ished cartoon. He had begun 1t few
days before to use on the occasion OF
Clayton's renoLlinatioL. 1t had been
labor of love, and Kittrell suddenly
realized how good it was. He had
put into it all of his belief in Clayton,
all of his devotion to the cause for
which Clayton toiled and sacrificed.
and in the simple lines he experienced
the artists ineffable felicity; he had
shown how good, how noble, how true
a man Clayton was. All at once he
realized the sensation the cartoon
would produce, how it would delight
and hearten Clayton's followers, how
it would touch Clayton. 1t would be
a tribute to the man and the friend
ship, but now tribute broken, un-
finished. Kittrel gazed moment
longer, and in that moment Edith
came
THE dear healthful soul" she ex-
claimed softly Neil, it is wonderful.
1t is not a cartoon; it is portrait 1t
shows what you might do with a
brush"
Kittrell could not speak, and he
turned the drawing board to the wall.
Kittrell found the task Of telling
Hardy just as difficult as he expected
it to be, but by some mercy it did not
last long. Explanation had not been
necessary; he had only to make the
first hesitating approaches, and Hardy
understood Hardy was, in way,
hurt; Kittrell saw that, and rushed
to his own defense:
81 hate to 60, old man. l don't like
1t little bit-but, you know, business
is business, and We need the money
After he had made the break it did
not seem so bad as he had anticipated
At first things went on smoothly
enough. The campaign had not opened,
and he was free to exercise his tai
ents outside the political field
But March came, and the politicians
began to bluster like the season. Late
one afternoon he was on his way to
the office with cartoon, the first in
which he had seriously to attack Clay
ton. Benson, the managing editor OF
the Telegraph had conceived 1t, and
Kittrell had worked on it that day in
sickness Of heart Every lying line OF
this new presentation Of Clayton had
cut him like some biting acid; but he
had worked on, trying to reassure him
self with the argument that he was
mere agent, devoid of personal re
sponsibility. But it had been hard,
and then Edith, after her custom had
asked to see It, he had said
"Oh. you don't want to see 1t; it's
no good
rs it of-him?" she had asked.
And when he nodded she had gone
away without another word. Now, as
he hurried through the crowded
streets, he was cons ious that 1t was
no good, indeed; and he was divided
between the artists regret and the
friends joy in the faUt. But it made
its cunning? And then. suddenly, he
heard a familiar voice, and there be.
side him, with his hand on his shoul.
der, stood the mayor.
"Why, Neil my boy, how are you?"
he said, and he took Kittrell's hand as
warmly as ever, For moment Kit
trell was relieved, and then his heart
sank; for he had a quick realization
that 1t was the coward within him that
felt the relief, and the man the sick
ness. If Clayton had reproached him,
or cut him, it would have made it
easier; but Clayton did none Of these
things, and Kittrell was irresstibly
drawn to the subject himself.
you heard of my-new job?" he
asked.
Yes" said Clayton, 81 heard"
well" Kittrell began.
I'm sorry" Clayton said.
so was I" Kittrell hastened to say
"But felt it-well, a duty, some way
to Edith. You know-we-need the
money" And he gave the cynical
laugh that went with the argument.
What does she think? Does she
feel that way about it?"
Kittrell laughed, not cynically now,
but uneasily and with embarrassment
for Claytons blue eyes were on him.
those eyes that could look into men
and understand them so.
"Of course you know" Kittrell went
on nervously, there is nothing per-
sonal in this. We newspaper fellows
simply do what we are told; we obey
orders like soldiers, you know. With
the policy of the paper we have moth.
ing to do. Just like Dick Jennings, who
was a red-hot free-trader and used to
write free-trade editorials for the
Times-he went over to the Telegraph
you remember and writes all those
protection arguments"
The mayor did not seem to be in.
terested in Dick Jennings, or In the
ethics of his profession.
"Of course, you know Pm for you
Mr.. Clayton, just exactly as I've al
ways been. I'm going to vote for
you"
This did not seem to interest the
mayor, either
"And, maybe you know thought.
perhaps" he snatched at this bright
new idea that had come to him just in
the nick of time, that I might help
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