The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1914-08-27

not lift his eyes or pause for reply
For years and years and years / have
dreamed just one dream, only one
that some day I might produce great
play. See how / worked" He swept
the manuscript into an untidy heap.
There were thousands of sheets. He
had written On paper like onion skin.
1t looked like toil--one had feeling
of years Of toil-after glance at the
laboriousiy interlined and reconstruct
ed sentences. wentworth crushed 1t
mercilessly into loose punches and be-
gan to lay the pages by handfuls upon
the reviving fire. A little flame climbed
up and kindled them into a wavering
blaze.
"Here, here, Enoch, old fellow"
cried Merry, "don't!" There was
thrill Of compassion in his voice. Say
don't-this is a wicked thing to do"
Wentworth paid no heed to him. He
gathered the sheets together with
quiet elaboration, crushing them as
one would crush some hated, desplsed
living thing, and burned them with
stolid satisfaction.
"That funerals over" he said alb
ruptly. "Now I'm in a mood for
business" He turned to his desk
Merry's eyes followed him. They were
dim with unspoken sympathy, but ne
knew the man well enough not to put
it into words.
Wentworth pulled out his key-ring
opened a drawer, and took the slip OF
paper from the yellow envelope. He
stood staring at it for moment. A
wave Of crimson swept across his face
then his mouth Strengthened into
cruel. memorable line. Merry's eyes
were still fixed ON him. Enoch did not
speak, but crossed the room with the
paper in his hand and laid 1t on the
table beside Merry. Andrews eyes
took 1t in with one sweeping glance;
it was the bond he had signed when
they played that last hand of poker.
"Do you remember this?" asked
Wentworth abruptly.
"Of course. Say, old chap, what
has that to do with our business? Oh,
I know" He lifted his eyes with
relieved glance. "Of course it's an
understood thing you're to run things,
and as for money. Lord. don't care
for money. Take all you want OF It.
It's fame my hearts set on; I've
grand ambition and thirst for great
ness-as I told you--but 1t runs ID
only one direction; to win name as
dramatist, a name that will live
when my capering days are over.
want halo; not such an aureole as
Shakespeare's his eyes sparkled and
smile lighted his face, "but halo
/ demand halo. I'll be satisfied Win
nothing smaller than a cartwheel."
He rose and went prancing buoy
antly about the room on his toe tips,
hummlng fantastic waltz from Tne
King at Large" Wentworth sat with
grim, brooding look in his eyes. An
drew stopped to stare at him.
why so mum. sweet Sirrah?'' ne
asked blithely.
Merry" wentworth spoke in an ex.
pressionless voice, read that bond
through-carefully Read it aloud"
The actor picked up the sheet OF
paper and read 1t with dramatic ges'
lures. bowling almost PROSTATE at each
pause.
To Enoch Wentworth.
hereby pledge myself to you until
death--to do your every blddin9-to
obey your every demand-to the ex'
tent Of my physical and mental ability
You to furnish me with support.
ANDREW MERRY.
He dropped lightly upon his knees In
front OF Wentworth when he finished.
II await thine orders. most grave
and reverend seigneur." Then he laid
his fingers upon Wentworth's arm and
looked up with an expectant smile.
CTo BE CONTINUEDl