Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1916-09-21
Well. 1t WIS nj

up TO Roscoe now!
That reminded him of a question he
had in mind TO ask Roscoe 1t was a
question Sheridan considered of no
present Importance. but his wife he'd
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 Sheridan 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 a 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 z.
Sheridan. Private" Roscoe was there
alone.
He was sitting with his back to the
door, his feet on Il window-sill, and he
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 matter?"
Nothing" Roscoe answered iudis-
tinctly, not movinE.
"Weu, L guess that's all right. too.
I let 'em wait sometimes myself! I
just wanted to ask you question, but
l 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. Il guess your
mother thinks he's comm to see Edith
pretty often, and you know him longer
n any of us, So
Il won't" said Roscoe, thickly-"I
won't say a dam thing about himr'
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 GeOrger he muttered. "Ros-
coer'
my name" said Roscoe "Can' help
that"
"ROscoe!" Blank establishment was
Sheridan's first sensation. Probably
nothing in the world could have more
amazed him than to find ROscOe-the
steady old wheel-horse-in this cOndi-
ton. How'd you get this way?" he
demanded. You caught cold and took
too much for it,"
For reply Roscoe laughed hoarsely.
'Yeuh! Cold! l been drinkun all time.
lately. FRS you notice it?'
'By Georger' cried Sheridan. 81
thought I'd smelt it on you good deal
lately, but l wouldn't "a believed
you'd take mOre'n was good for you.
Bob! To see you like a common hogw
Roscoe chuckled and threw out his
right arm in meaningless gesture.
Hog he repeated, chuckling.
eyes, a hOgw said Sheridan, angrily.
ain business hours! I don't object to
| anybody's takin' a drink if he wants
| to, out o. business hours; nor, if man
keeps his work right up to the scratch,
| wouldn't be the one to haste him If
he got good an drunk once in two,
three years, maybe. It amt my way.
[ let it alone, but / never believed in
fOrcin' my way on a grOWn-up son in
moral matters. | guess | was wrOngl
You think them men out there are
Waitin' to talk business with a drunk
ard? You think you can come to your
office and do business drunk? By
George! | wonder how often this has
been happening and me not on to 1t!
I'll have a look over your books tOmor-
row, and III
Roscoe stumbled to his feet, laugh
ing wildly, and stood swaying con-
irving to hold himself in position By
clutching the back of the heavy chair
in which he had been sitting.
''HoO-hoorahr' he cried. as my