The daily banner. (Cambridge, Md.) 1897-2008, 1914-09-16
When Galdorf job e

assemblage of PilIing q. : best citizen
ship and Its clerks and stenographers
gathered in the park. each eraniy~ his
or her neck and gazing skyward.~
lowing the direction of Pillingsby's
concess,ate,l stare the editor looked
up at tie city hall tower. and his hor'
rif1ed e0es fell on the flag. 1t flew al
half mast
Good heavens" he gasped involun
tarily. Hes ieadr'
"Wno's dead?" inquired haberdash-
er standing next to Johnson.
"Gee," murmured the editor, unhear
ing, 81 had no idea he was as sick as
THAR
"Who are you talking about, GalT
demanded the haberdasher 1.-The pres
ident, the COVER You don't mean
Holy smoke. It's Fred Witbers!"
johnson nodded. stunned by his over
whelming emotions. and hurried away
The haberdasher did the rest
Wildf1re is a lazy smoke compared
with the rapidity which news thus
started spreads Ten minutes after the
editors gaping mouth had uttered its
FIRST ejaculation all Of Pillingsby knew
that it was mayorless. A great sense
of bereavement fell on the community,
When the editor Of the Banner an
rfved at his estab Lsalnent he rushed
into his sanctum and locked the door
behind him. A strain Of tende~ recol-
Iections pervaded his thoughts like a
melody of past and happy days, but
clever quips from his recent diatr1bes
constantly obtruded and tangled harsh
ly-those same bon mots that had
sounded so keen and witty only yester-
day. Heavens! How could he-how
could any man-for any conceivable
reason or motive write as he had writ
ten about a man like Fred Withers?
Where had been his heart-the same
heart which just now seemed to be try
ing to thump hole through his breast
where could that heart have been all
these days and months while he was
writing these things Of big, fat, whole
some Fred Withers?
He sobbed like a woman and roared
like a man as a knock at the door dis
turbed him. With the knock came the
piping voice of the devil
"a wire for you, Mr.. Johnson"
The editor rose angrily. Why must
some fool telegraph him while his soul
Is engaged In writing the obituary of
his good old friend Fred Withers?
He opened the door and viciously
snatched the message from the boys
hand and slammed himself back into
solitude He threw the offending mes
sage on the desk without opening 1t
and fell to his task with fresh vigor.
Nothing must be permitted to disturb
him. He had a great deal to atone for
Nothing-not even his pride-must in
tervene So he sat and wrote for a
full half hour-his soul in every word
At last he read the copy with a sense
of qualification mingled with feeling
Of intense regret.
"If Just Fred Withers could read
thisr' he muttered chokingly.
Then his eyes fell on the yellow en-
velope with which the devil had dis
tdrbed him. He picked 1t up and rip
ped 1t open. still spiteful at its inter
meddling. Then he stared at 1t for
long time, and then-he laughed.
Dear Gal" read the message, my
wife just received a telegram from
yours condoling on my death. l have
stood about all ! am going to stand
from you, and If you print my obitu-
airy ahead of time | shall slap the libel
law on you Fred Withers."
Johnson thrust the message into his
pocket as some one again knocked at