Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1916-08-04

is a dependent; he depends upon the
farmer and the weather The rooster
thinks only OF the moment; Midas pro-
vides for tomorrow. What does he pro-
vide for tomorrow? Nothing that the
rooster will not have without providing.
The rooster and the prosperous worker:
they are born, they grub, they love; they
grub and love grubbing; they grub and
they die. Neither knows beauty; neither
knows knowledge. And after all, when
Midas and the rooster dies, there is one
| thing Midas has had and rooster has not.
Midas has had the excitement of accumu-
lating what he has grubbed, and that has
been his life and his love and his god. He
cannot take that god with him when he
dies I wonder If the worthy gods are
those we can take with US
Midas must teach all to be as Midas;
the young must be raised in his religion
The manuscript ended there, and
Sheridan was not anxious for more. He
crumpled the sheets into a ball, depos-
| 1ting it with yigor) in a wastebasket
| beside him; then, rising, he consulted a
| Cyclopedia of Names, which a book
agent had somehow sold to him years
before; volume now first put to use
for the location Of Midas Having
read the legend, Sheridan walked up
| and down the spacious Office. exhaling
/ the breath of contempt. DAM fool!'
he mumbled.
| He felt very lonely, and this was,
daily, his hardest hour. For a long
! time he and Jim had lunched together
habitually at a small restaurant near
the Sheridan building, where they
spent twenty minutes in the coDsHmp-
ton of food, and twenty in talk, with
cigars. But now Sheridan remained
alone in his office; he had not gone out
| to lunch since Jim's death, nor did he
have anything sent to him-he tasted
until evening.
1t was the time he missed jim per-
sOnally the most-the voice and eyes
and handshake, all brisk and alert, all
| businesslike. But Sheridan's sense of
loss went far deeper. Jim was the one
who would have been surest to keep
the great property growing greater,
year by year. Sheridan had fallen
asleep, night after night, pfcturing
what the growth would be under jim.
He had believed that Jim was abso-
lutely certain to be one Of the biggest
men in the country. Well, it was all
up to Roscoe now!
That reminded him Of question he
had in mind to ask Roscoe. 1t was a
question Sheridan considered of no
| present importance, but his wife had
suggested Though vaguely-and he
had meant to speak to Roscoe about it.
| However, Roscoe had not come into
his fathers office for several days, and
when Sheridgn had seen his son at
home there had been no opportunity.
He waited until the greater part of
his days work was over, toward four
o'clock, and then went down to Ros-
GOES Office, which was on lower floor.
He found several men waiting for bust
ness interviews in an outer room of
| the series Roscoe occupied; and he sup
posed that he would find his son busy
with others, and that his question
would have to be postponed, but when
he entered the door marked 'R. C.
Sheridan. Private" Roscoe was there
alone.
He was sitting with his back to the
| door, his feet on window-sill, and Ihe
did not turn as his father opened the
door.
Some pretty good men out there
waitin' to see you, my boy" said Sheri-
dan. whats the matterY'
Nothing" Roscoe answered indis-
| tinctly, not moving.
swell, I guess that's all right, too.
let 'em wait sometimes myself!
J just wanted to ask you a question, but
I expect it'll keep, If you're workin'
| something out in your mind
| Roscoe made no reply; and his IA
| Their, who had turned to the door,
paused with his hand on the knob,
staring curiously at the motionless
figure in the chair. Usually the son
seemed pleased and eager when he
came to the Office. you're all right,
amt your" said Sheridan. "Not sick,
are you?'
"No."
Sheridan was puzzled; then, abrupt
~, he decided to ask his question. II
wanted to talk to you about that young
Lamhorn," he said. 81 guess your
mother thinks he's comm to see Edith
pretty often, and you know him longer
n any of us, So"
81 won't" said Roscoe, thickly-'I
| won't say DAM thing about him!'
Sheridan uttered an exclamation and
walked quickly to a position near the
window where he could see his sons
face. Roscoe's eyes were bloodshot
and vacuous; his hair was disordered,
his mouth was distorted, and he was
deathly pale. The father stood aghast.
"By George!" he muttered. "Ros-
coeY'
my name," said Roscoe. "Can' help
that"
"Roscoev' Blank astonishment was
Sheridan's first sensation. Probably
nothing in the world could have more
amazed him thar to find Roscoe-the
steady old wheel-horse-in CHS condi.
ton. How'd you get this way?' he
demanded. ''You caught cold and took
|