The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1915-10-02
The EUening Story
The Lie.

Inc long studio was dim with the
grayness of a wet afternoon. Outside
| the windows the November rain fell
steadily, like endless strings of silver
beads. and as the twilight deepened a
wind whined down the chimney and
famed the black Goals into glowing
flame.
The man paced the room restlessly,
lighting one cigarette after another,
only to toss each one unsmoked into
the CRATE. He was tall and gaunt,
with prematurely gray hair and
haggard face in which burned deep
set blue eyes.
The woman sitting beside the fire
watched him with grave, injurious
eyes. Her gray velvet frock fell soft
ly about her graceful form and be-
came part of the shadows. The fire.
light shone on her folded white hands
and touched a brilliant ring into hot
flame. Sometimes the same flame
burned in her eyes.
The man, accustomed to her quiet
presence, had forgotten her.
Once he paused beside the great
oak table and looked at a large pack
bells and sealed with curious splash
of green wax.
TT is Temples private seal, and
yet" His mutter died into silence.
And yet-Jim Temple had been
dead for ten years and the seal with
its owner was lying in the muddy
depths of the Yang-tze river.
why should this package come to
me out of China-now?" he ques-
toned himself as he resumed his rest
less tramping to and fro.
What a horrible night that had
beeni Black and storm driven, and
the wind had whined around the flap
ping sails of the junk
Suddenly he went to the table,
switched on the electrolier and sat
down before the package. His jaw
was set grimly and a bitter smile
edged his lips.
For a while there was no sound
within the room save the twanging of
several strings and the rustic of pa
pers.
At last box and wrappings were cast
aside and there was revealed before
him the perfect model of a Chinese
pleasure junk-the replica of that
other craft on the Yang-tze river.
How perfect it was in every detail!
What cunning artisan had contriVed
the miniature craft with it's hull of
and polished cedar? It's roofs were of
fine bamboo, its awnings of gauze, it's
sails of silk, and in its tiny cabin
were carved and inlaid tables and
lockers. Lanterns swayed from
threads of silk, and aft, under Silken
canopies, were piles of mats on which
miniature wooden people reposed. And
in the stern, behind carved doors, was
a little shrine containing an idol be-
fore which stood four ivory VOtive
candles. There was pervading smell
of incense and there was an acrid
tang of opium.
The wonderfully carved rudder
creaked as he touched it with a ten
tative finger, and, as if the impact
had set them into action, it seemed
to the man that the figures on the
mats stirred into life.
AS one watches dim shadow pic
n
and stared with Mortified eyes at the
junk.
The length of the table appeared to
be the turgid yellow stream which is
China's greatest waterway. The junk
seemed to rock on its bosom and
was not the wind whining? And
there was the beat of rain-and in the
shadows beyond the circle of light lay
those dim Asiatic shores.
The helmsman was a tall, wicked
looking Chinaman-it was strange
that he had mistaken these flesh-and-
blood people for wooden toys-and the
group of sailors hudd1ed in the bow;
how their thrill, staccato voices
pierced the storml That was the
captain, that fleshly scoundrel with
the inscrutable face and the heart of
devil. He remembered the captain.
And the two other men were for
eigners. He noted without surprise
that one was Jim Temple, the other
The two white men on the mats
were quarreling over a woman's pic
ture. Without looking now he knew
it was the portrait of the girl he after
ward married. They were quarreling,
and finally the shorter of the two, clad
in gray, leaped at the throat of the
other and they fought viciously until
at last the little man went over the
side and the beat of rain on the sky
light drowned his cries.
The Yang-tze was roaring delight
over another victim.
The tall man in white (himself) re-
turned to the mats and threw himself
upon his face and lay quiet.
The captain smiled evilly at the
helmsman and shrugged his fat Shout
ders.
How the river roared!
Suddenly the storm paused The
wind stilled and the rain ceased it's
drumming on the skylight-
The man lifted his head and brushes
his hand across his eyes. He stared
again at the wooden figures. All! they
were wooden, albeit two of them were
carved and painted miniatures of
Temple and-himself.
He sighed brokenly and for the first
time he looked beyond the shadows
and saw the woman sitting there
watching him.
Jsswhat is the matter. dear?'' she
asked quietly.
The question brought his Keeling
senses to the edge OF j; an =, abysInal fear
He thought that he shouted the ques-
ton
why, yes dear-had you forgot
ten:' she asked calmly. The waver-
ing smile on her face steadied under
his intent gaze.
He leaned across the table. his
sha king fingers touching the junk.
sYou-saw?" His words were barely
audible
Still she smiled at him.
Il saw nothing she lied.
You saw?' he persisted doggedly.
will look wei over the manteIpiece,"