The Greenville journal. [volume] (Greenville, Ohio) 1850-1918, 1917-05-03

He Debated With Himself Whether Il
Would Not Be Better to End II
Than to Live.
over the grave Of the old engineer. Life
had seemed to hold absolutely moth
Ing for Meade as he knelt by that low
mound md watched the woman walk
slowly away with many backward
glance, with many pause, obviously
reluctant. He realized that the lifting
OF hand would have called her back.
How hard it was for him to remain
quiet; and, finally, before she disap-
peared and before she took her last
look at him, to turn his back resOlutely
as If to mark the termination Of the
situation.
Father, fame, reputation, love- taken
away at one and the same moment! A
weaker man might have sent life to fol-
low. In the troubled days after the
fall of the bridge, his fathers death,
the inquests, his testimony and evil
dence freely given, and that parting,
something like despair had filled the
young engineers heart. Life held moth
Ing. He debated with himself whether
1t would not be better to end it than
to live 1t. He envied his father his
broken heart. Slngularly enough, the
thing that made life at least value
was the thing that kept him from
throwing 1t away-the woman.
Striving to analyze the complex
emotions that centered about his losses
he was forced to admit, although it
seemed sign of weakness, that love
OF woman was greater than love of
fame that In the balance one girl out
weighed bridge and father. That the
romance was ended was what made
life insuppOrtable. Yet the faint, vague
possibility that it might be resumed If
he could find some way to show his
worthiness was what made him cling
to it.
OF course he could have showed |
without much difficulty and beyond |
peradventure at the inquest over Alb
bott and the investigation into the
cause of the failure Of the brldge-un-
fortunate but too obviOus-that the
frightful and fatal error In the design
was not his and that he had protested
against the accepted plan, If only he
had found the letter addressed to his
father. But tRat he would never do
and the letter had not been discovered
anyway. He did not even regret the
bold falsehOOd he had uttered or the
practical subOrnatiOn of perjury of
which he had been guilty in drawing
out and accepting and emphasizing
Shurtliff's testimony.
There had been no inquest over his
fathers death. The autopsy had
showed clearly heart failure. He had
1ot been compelled to go on the witness
stand and under oath as to that. Al
.hough, If that had been demanded, he
must needs have gone through with 1t.
indeed so prompt and public had been
his avowals of responsibility that he
lad not been seriously questioned
hereon. He had left nothing uncer-
ain. There was nothing concealed. ,
He had inherited Il competence from .
lis father. 1t was indeed much more
han he or anyone had expected. He
lad realized enough ready money from !,
he sale Of certain securities for his :
resent needs. The remainder he :
'laced in Shurtllff's care and a few !
lays after the funeral, having settled
possible, he took a train for
he West.
The whole world was before him.
nd he was measurably familiar with h
1any portions Of it. He could have
uried himself In out-Of-the-way cor !,
ers Of far countries, in strange conti- .
ents. These possibilities did not at :.
ract him. He wanted to get away =
rom, out Of touch with, the life he had n
I'd. He wished to go to some place a
here he could be practically alone. a
here he could have time to recover n
Is poise, to think things out, to plan
Is future, to try to devise means for
If it were possible. He
ould do tnat just as well, perhaps bet v
n. In America than in any place else. v