The Greenville journal. [volume] (Greenville, Ohio) 1850-1918, 1916-03-02
G!HLAI2F9ElR4
+ 1HJJk-

Alan Wayne had been away for q
year. He had not returned from Mont
real but had gone one from there to
work in South America and, later, to
Africa.
He had been In town for several
days when he met the judge one after
noon In November on the avenue.
Judge" he said without preamble,
whats this l hear about Gerry dis
appearing
It's true" said the Judge and add
ed grimly, "he disappeared the day you
went to Montreal"
Alan colored and his face turned
grave. Il am sorry," he said. 81
didn't know it."
Sorry for what?" asked the Judge,
but Alan refused the opening and the
judge hardly regretted it. They were
not in tune and he felt 1t. His heart
was heavy over Alan for his own sake.
He had broken what the Judge had
long reverenced as a charmed circle.
He had exiled himself from that which
should have been dearer to him than
his hearts desire. The Judge won
dered If he realized 1t. you're not
going out to Red HIP" he asked, try
ing to make the question casual.
Alan glanced at him sharply. What
was the judge after? NO" he said
after pause, II shall not break the
communal coma Of Red Hill for some
time. I'm off again. McDale & Nc
Dale have loaned me to Elllnson's. I've
become sort of poohbah on construc-
ton In Africa. They get a premium
for lending me-"
Alan's speech habitually drawled ex-
cept for an occasional retort that came
like the crack Of whip. The judge
looked him over curiOusy. Alan's
dress was almost too refined. His per-
son was as well cared for as a wom-
ans. Every detail about him was
studied negation of work, utility, serv-
Ice. The judge thought of CoIlinge-
fOrd's story and wondered
They walked in silence for some
time and then Alan took his leave. The
judge followed his erect figure with
solemn eyes. Alan had deteriorated.
One cannot be the fly in the amber of
more than one woman's memory with
out clouding ones own soul, and q
clouded soul has its peculiar circum-
which the clean can feel.
The judge felt it in Alan and WINGED.
If Alan did not go to the Hill the
Hill, in certain measure, came to Alan.
The next afternoon found the captain
once more established in his chair In
a window at the club with Alan be-
side him. The captain had not changed.
His hair was in the same state Of
white insurgency, his eyes bulged in
the same old way, and he still puffed
when he talked. His garb was identi-
cal and awakened the usual interest
In the passing gamin.
You'll never grow old, SIR" said
Alan.
"Old" said the captain. "Huh, I
grew Olu DeLOfe you were D0rn." The
captain spoke with pride. He straight
ened his bullet head and poised a tot
Of whisky with steady hand. what
did tell you" he said into space.
"How's that, sir?"
what did tell you," repeated the
captain swinging around his eyes,
about wOmenY"
Alan flushed angrlly. He had no re-
tort for the old man. He sat sullenly
silent
The captain colored too. That's
right" he said with surprising touch
Of choler. "Sulk. Every badly broken
colt sulks at the grip of the bit. What
you need, young man, Is a touch Of
the whip and you're going to get it."
And then the old man revealed a
knowledge of words that
could lash. At first Alan was indif-
Perent, then amazed, and finally recog-
nized himself beaten at his own game.
He came out of that interview thor
oughly chastened and with an alto