The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1913-07-15

to the room he sarcastically said he
might begin to call his studio, now that
he was getting ten thousand q year, to
look for a sketch he had promised No
Ian for the sporting page. And there
on his drawing board was an unfn-
ished cartoon. He had begun it few
days before to use on the occasion of
Clayton's denomination. 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
man Clayton was All at once he
realized the sensation the cartoon
would produce, how 1t would delight
and hearten Clayton's followers, how
1t would touch Clayton. 1t 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.
1.-THE dear, healthful SOUL" she ex-
claimed softly. Neil, it is wonderful.
1t is not cartoon; it is portrait. 1t
shows what you might do with a
brush"
Kittren 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:
Il hate to go, old man. 1 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 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 1t, and
Kttrell 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 1t, he had said:
ooh, you don't want to see it; it's
no good"
Us 1t 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
its cunning? And then, suddenly. he
heard 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 Kittrell's hand as
warmly as ever. For a moment Kit
tren was relieved, and then his heart
sank; for he had quick realization
that it was the coward within him that
felt the relief, and the man the sick
ness. If Clayton had reproached him.
or cut him, 1t would have made 1t
easier; but Clayton did none of these
things, and Kittrell was irresistibly
drawn to the subject himself.
You heard Of my-nsw job9 he
asked.
YES" said Clayton, II heard"
We'll" Kittreli began.
I'm sorry" Clayton said.
so was l" Kittreil 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 til"
Kittrell laughed, not cynically 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 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 q 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
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