Audubon County journal. (Exira, Iowa) 1884-1993, 1918-03-21
MAKING A MILLION
BY H. I. RICH.
1917, by the Mcclure Newspa.
per Syndcate.)

| per Syndicate)
Charles e. G. Ackerson was an OBJ
scure little author of unpopular fic-
| tion-short stories that one thanked
heaven were short.
The difficulty lay not in any lack of
language, but in certain deartha Of
| ideas. Result: dull and tedious
| tale.
Ever hear of him? I doubt it. Any
way, you would be unlikely to know he
had daughter. He had, thought Her
name was Allalie, and her mother had
died. when she was very small, leaving
her to her fathers kindly but irregu-
lar tutelage. AS consequence Of
which, by the time she reached TWEEN
ty, she was in possession among other
things Of as vigorous an artistic tenn
permanent as the most ardent tempera-
ment fan could desire.
Now an artistic temperament must
have its opposite, and hers was 81. n.
Bennink-though he pretended he had
just such temperament as hers and
swore he was writer. For Bennink
was yersed in the ways of women.
Moreover. he and the aforesaid
Charles were friends. Put this with
the fact that he actually was in love
with daughter Allalie, and you have a.
situation that would really have at
forded grounds for fiction.
Henry" Charles said one day, syou
don't write. I'll wager you never sold
a story in your life"
'Hush!" Henry replied, dropping a
SLOW lid. II use nom de plume"
Whereupon Charles had ceased to
be concerned on that point. They
understood each other, and. the sooner
q certain marriage took place, the bet
ter
But not so Allalie. She wanted a
real author, not one who used MON de
plumes" and was mysteriously reti-
cent about his work.
tits no use, Henry" she exclaimed
at length, after he had been coming to
see her for several months. you've
either got to write under your own
name, or go away-for good"
Her words were final. and he
knew it. "
Would you marry me If / did?' he
asked.
'Yes,' she said.
Now watchl
Bennink, being a business man, be-
took himself to Charles inner shrine
and sat with him in solemn conclave.
There was bold talk, and mention Of
sums of money in seven figures. An
agreement was reached. Then he re-
turned to Allalie. -
"My DEAR" he said, sit shall be as
you wish. shall reveal my identity
at last, in series Of stories which I
promise to begin tomorrow"
And when tomorrow arrived, the
series was begun.
We must now suppose some months
to have elapsed, and Allalie to have
become Mrs. Bennink.
Do you remember those stories in
ks Magazine last year, about the
young fellow who succeeded in reliev-
ing Wall street of so much money :?
Henry Makes Million" the series
was called. Perhaps you have forgot
ten, but the name Fl. II. Bennink was
under the title.
Bennink will never forget. The
memorable day the issue containing
his first story appeared, he had re-
| turned from the Office (Yes, indeed, it
is quite customary for authors now
adays to have city offices!) to be met
on his doorstep By an exultant wife.
Not %. Henry'-'H. 81. Bennink T. /"
he had laughed, and kissed her.
He said it bored him to see his name
! in print. But the arrival of each
months issue of ks continued to
be fraught with keenest interest for
| his wife, and certain pride in her
husband grew and grew. Nor was she
unduly proud, for the series was a
| great success.
"a case of getting famous all Of a
sudden" he confded to Charles one
morning. "Why, do you know, dozens
Of magazines are after me for stories,
| publishers are bothering me to death
about book rights, and seven colleges
have offered me professorships in Eng
lish. They hail me as the man Of the
hour, whereas" AZ
"Hush!' warned Charles. .
The months sped on, the series was
concluded, and presently it appeared
Fin volume form-so that all might buy
and learn now certain Henry had
been able to gather together ten hum
dred thousand dollars out of the debris
4 of Wall street.
Then, one day, Charles =. G. Acker-
son and III. III. Bennink voted them
/ selves leave of absence; and Mrs. Benz
mink, returning from an afternoon auc-
ton party, found the following note
from her distinguished husband pinned
rakishly to the lampshade in the liz
brary:
"My Dear:
Il am the hero, your father the au-
thor. made the million. He made it
fnvl D.. &