The Greenville journal. [volume] (Greenville, Ohio) 1850-1918, 1914-04-30
CHAPTER Ill.-contInued,

Tor the corporation.
CHAPTER III.-contlnued.
To be outsidei All that light and
color and comfort and pleasure would
hum and sparkle on just the same.
though he was no longer within the
circle Of It's effulgence-slaving per-
haps, he thought with q twisted smile,
at some tawdry occupation that called
for no experience, to pay for meal
in some second-rate restaurant and q
pallet In some shabby-genteel. hall
bedroom, till his clothes were replaced
by ill-itting "hand-me-downs"- by
wretched gradations he arrived finally
at the status Of the dime seat In the
gallery and f1ve-cent cigars!
There was one way back It lay
through the hackneyed gateway Of
marriage. Youth, comeliness and fine
linen, in the world he knew, were a
fair exchange for wealth any day.
~Cutlet for cutlet"-the satirtc phrase
ran through his mind. Why not?
Others did so. And as for himself, It
perhaps need be no question Of plain
and spinstered millions-there was
Katharine Fargo!
In his heart John Valiant was aware,
by those subtle signs which men and
women alike distinguish, that while
Katharine Fargo loved first and fore
most her own wonderful person, he
had been an easy second in her re-
gard.
John Valiant looked down at the
bulldog sQuatted on the floor, his eyes
shining in the dimness. A little hot
ripple had run over him. Not on
your life, Chum!" he said mo shame
less barter! There must be other
things besides money and social posi-
ton in this doddering old world, after
all! We're going to begin something
for ourselves, If it's only raising cab
bages! And we're going to stand it
without any baby-aching-the nurse
never held our noses when we took
our castor-oil!"
1t was folded down, that old bright
page. Finis had been written to the
rose-colored chapter. And even as he
told himself, he was conscious of q
new rugged something that had been
slowly dawning within him, a sense Of
courage, even of zest, and furious
hatred Of the self-pity that had
wrenched him even for q moment.
He turned from the window, picked
up his letters, and followed by the dog,
went slowly up another fight to his
room.
.
He tore open the letters abstracted-
ly: the usual dinner-card or two, a
tailors spring announcement, a
chronic serial from an explanatory
marble-quarrying company, a quarterly
statement of a club house-committee.
The last two missives bore a monde
script look.
One was small, with the name of
a legal firm in its corner. The other
was largish, corpulent and heavy, of
stout Manila paper, and bore, down
one side, a gaudy procession of post
age stamps proclaiming that 1t had
been registered.
What's In that, wonder?" he said
to himself, and then, with a smile at
the unmasculine speculation, opened
the smaller envelope.
Dear Sir" began the letter, in the
most uncompromisingly conventional
of typewriting:
Dear Sir:
Enclosed please find, with title
deed, a memorandum opened in your
name by the late John Valiant some
years before his death. 1t was his
desire that the services indicated in
connection with this estate should con-
unue till this date. We hand you
herewith our check for $236.2O (two
hundred and thirty-six dollars and
twenty cents), the balance in your IA.
vor, for which please send receipt,
And oblige,
Yours very truly,
Emerson and Ball"
"(Enclosure)
He turned to the memorandum. 1t
showed sizable initial deposit against
which was entered a series Of annual
tax payments with minor dlsburse-
ments credited to inspection and
care" The tax receipts were pinned
to the account.
The larger wrapper contained an un-
sealed envelope. across which was
written in faded ink, and In an unfa-
nniliar dashing, slanting handwriting.
his own name. The envelope con-
tanned creased yellow parchment,
from between whose folds there
clumped and fluttered down upon the
floor q long fiattish object Wranned