Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1916-10-19


partner, Drummond, was out Of town
! for the day. He worked expeditiously,
having no callers until just before he
was ready to leave. Then he was
Obliged to admit one who desired to
make settlement; He took Whitaker's
receipt for the payment in cash, leay-
Ing behind him fifteen One-hundred-
dollar notes. Whitaker drew his per-
Sonal check for the right amount and
left 1t with q memorandum under the
paper-Weight on Drummond's desk !;
put match to a shredded pile of per-
sonaI correspondence in the fireplace;
and caught train at the Grand Cen
trail at One-three.
Not until the cars were in motion did
he experience any sense of security
from Peter Stark. He had been ap-
prehensive until that moment of some
unforeseen move on the part Of his
friend; Peter was capable Of wide but
sure casts of intuition on occasion,
especially where his affections were
touched. But now Whitaker felt free,
free to abandon himself to meditative
despair. Cold horror crawled In his
brain like 6 delirium--horror of him.
self, Of his morbid flesh, of that mort
bund body unfit to sheathe the clean
fire Of life.
at about four o'clock the train
stopped to drop the dining-car. Wholly
sWayed by blind impulse, Whitaker got
up, took his handbag and left the car.
On the station platform he found
himself pelted by pouring rain. He
imprisoned himself in the body Of an
aged and decrepit four-wheeler, and
as they rocked and crawled away, the
blind windows wept increasingly, and
increasingly the rain drummed the
long roll on the roof.
In time they stopped before a
rambling structure whose weather.
boarded facade, white with taking
paint, bore the legend: Commercial
House" Whitaker carried his handbag
up the steps and across the rain-swept
veranda into dim, cevernous hall.
A cubicle fenced off in one corner
formed the Office proper. Whitaker
waited by the desk a gaunt, weary
man, hagridden by fear. There was in
his mind desolate picture Of the room
upstairs when he-his soul: the i'm
perishable essence of himself-should
have finished with it.
At his elbow lay the hotel register,
open at a page neatly headed with
date in red ink. Whitaker registered;
but tWo-thirds of his name was all he
entered, when it came to whitaker"
his pen paused and passed on to write
Philadelphia" in the residence col
umn.
The thought came to him that he
must be careful to obliterate all laun-
dry marks on his clothing.
In his own good time the clerk ap-
peared. His welcome was an indiffer-
ent nod and a glance at the register
which seemed unaccOuntably to mod
crate his apathy.
Mr.. Morton-uh?" he inquired.
Whitaker nodded without words.
The youth shrugged and scrawled
a hieroglyph after the name. Here,
Sammy" he said to the boy-"Forty-
three" To Whitaker he addressed the
further remark: "Trunks?'
mo"
The youth seemed about to expos
tulate, but checked when Whitaker
placed one of his hundred-dollar notes
on the counter.
Il think that'n cover my lia6ility,a
he said with a significance misinter-
preted by the other.
81 amt got enough change"
'That's all right; I'm in no hurry"
The eyes of the lout followed him
as he assembled the stairs. On the
second floor as Whitaker came into
view, the boy thrust open the door,
disappeared for an instant, and came
out minus the bag. Whitaker gave
him a coin in passing-an attention |
which he acknowledged by pulling the |
door to with a bang the moment the |
guest had entered the room. At the |
same time Whitaker became aware Of |
q contretemps.
The room was OF fair size, and 1t |
was tenanted by a woman In street |
dress. She stood by the washstand
with her back to the light, her attitude |
one of tense expectancy; hardly more
than silhouette Of figure moderate
~ tall and very slight, almost angular
in its slenderness. She had been hold
Ing tumbler in one hand, but as
Whitaker appeared this slipped from
her fingers; there followed a thud and
a sound Of split liquid at her feet. She
moved forward a pace or two, her
hands futtering out toward him, then
stopped as though halted by a force
and overpowering.
Il thought" she quavered in a
stricken voice-'I thought. you
q. my husband Mr.. Morton
>. the boy said -
Then her knees buckIed under her,
and she plunged forward and fell with
a thump that shook the walls.
I'm sorry-I beg pardon" Whit
aker stammered stupidity to ears that
couldn't hear. He swore softly with
threw his hat to a chair
and dropped to his knees beside the
It seemed as if the high gods
were hardly playing fair, to throw
tatnting woman on his hands just then,
1t time when he was all preoccupied