Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1913-07-25
Copyright BY The Bobbs- Merrill Company

ne was SeLtlng ten thousand year, to
look for sketch he had promised No
Ian for the sporting page. And there
on his drawing board was an unfin-
lshed cartoon. He had begun it few
days before to use on the occasion of
C1ayton'S denomination It had been
q 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
man Clayton was All at once he
realized the sensation the cartoon
would produce, how it would delight
and hearten Claytons followers, how
it would touch Clayton It would be
tribute to the man and the friend
ship, but now a tribute broken, I'M
| finished. Kittrell gazed a moment
longer, and in that moment Edith
came.
"The DEAR healthful soul!'' she ex-
claimed softly. Neil, it is wonderful.
It is not cartoon; it is a 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 a way,
hurt; Kittrell saw that, and rushed
to his own defense:
II hate to go, old man. I don't like
it 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 buster 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 it, 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 a
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 it.; it's
no good"
'Is 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 conscious that it was
no good, indeed; and he was divided
between the artists regret and the
friends joy in the fact. But it made
him tremble. Was his hand to forget
it's cunning? And then, suddenly, he
heard a familiar voice, and there be-
side him, with his hand on his Shout
der, stood the mayor.
why, Neil, my boy, how are your
he said, and he took Kittrells hand as
warmly as ever. For moment Kit
trell was relieved, and then his heart
sank; for he had quick realization
that it was the coward within him that
I ;@A he cSo r
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 irresistibly
drawn to the subject himself.
"You heard Of my-new job?" he
asked.
Yes said Clayton, Il heard"
well" Kittrell began.
sI'm sorry. Clayton said.
80 was IT, Kittrell fastened 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 p
Kittrell laughed, not cynlcally now,
but uneasily and with embarrassment,
for Clayton's blue eyes were on him.,
those eyes that could look into men
and understand them so.
"Of course you know Kittrell went
on neryously, s'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 moths
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 I'm for you.
Mr.. Clayton, just exactly as I've al
ways been. I'm going to vote for
| VIZ,