Fulton County tribune. (Wauseon, Ohio) 1883-1925, 1914-10-09

He leaned his head upon his hant
for q few minutes, and his listless
eyes fell upon a calendar. He dis
covered that it bore the dates oil
March instead of April. He tore of
the record of weeks which had passed
and dropped it into the waste basket
The pen rested listlessly between his
fingers. When he tried to write with
1t the ink had dried. He did not DIP
1t in the bottle again. A trail of sleep
less days and nights lay behind him
he felt as if his brain had drowsed
at its post.
He picked up a rubber band, twisted
it about his fingers, then pulled II
thin till it suddenly snapped in two
He shook himself as if a strenuous
effort to wake up. For days he hao
been evolving what seemed like g
virile plot for a play. He tramped the
streets to do his thinking and planned
the scenario from beginning to end
The night before he had locked him
self in his office at the Gotham and
in a frenzy of haste shaped out each
scene on his typewriter.
The manuscript lay at his elbow
He read it through. Suddenly he re
allied that the stuff fell short, OF
what he could not decide. 1t lacked
reality. He compared it with Merry
drama. The story in that rose up out
of the paper, each character a living
breathing man or woman This story
was dead, absolutely dead. He lifted
the sheets and deliberately tore them
across, gritting his teeth while the
paper tipped, as a nan does when he
is in pain.
He picked up a letter which lay be
side him on the desk. 1t was ad
dressed in Merry's irregular writing
There was nothing inside the envelope
but a check for an amount in five
figures. wentworth glanced at it, Their
tore it across. He had sent the check
to the actor without a word; it repre-
sented the entire royalties on the
House of Esterbrook." The mai
brought it back to him as it had gone
A small clock licked out the time OF
top of the desk. He remembered 4
was a Christmas gift from Merry. The
ceaseless round of its secondhand fas
cinated him.
1T would be great il n could work
as that ridiculous needle does" he
| thought. 1T is such a lifelike thing
1t goes on with a regularity thai
feazes al man, never pausing day o.
night, never dropping out or balkins
as we humans do when the brain goes
numb. l wonder" Enoch loafed bacl
in his chair, Il wonder if it is too lat
| to come back. 1t does not seem pos
| sible that a man could undergo a ply
| steal change in a few months while ht
is still hale and hearty. They say sucf
a thing does come, though-quick a!
scat, when your arteries harden, Of
something of that sort happens. In
~forty-two. A man isn't old at forty
two, and yeti feel old today. | sup
| pose," he stared steadily at the fact
of the little clock as if it were a hu
mar c~ountenance, Il suppose this i
part of the scheme they call retribu
ton"
He uttered the last word in an un
dertone as if some one were within
hearing. There had been moments
especially in the dead Of night-whel
he had lcnged to lay bare his soul t,
a father ~confessor. The conscience
| which had slept for months awok'
and was raging at him like a demon
He sat silent. going over his life ste,
by step from the day when he wa
confronted by temptation and fell
Dorcas had branded him as a thiei
Still she had kept her word and neve
again questioned the authorship of tn
play. Her accusation left a welt il
his soul like a stroke from the thil
end of a whip. 1t was a welt whicl
had not healed. He knew she hal
spoken the truth. He dropped hi
head upon his arms. It was year
since he had said a prayer. He ha
forgotten the form that prayer takes
God" he murmured, IF there j
any way for mi to come back-an
begin again-show me that way"
He did not raise his head; in a
apathy he was listening curiously t