Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1918-06-25

THE CRACK IN THE BELL
A STORY OF POLITICS IN PHILADELPHIA
BY PETER CLARK MACFARLANE

- X~kS< "a y -
groaned again and casped his hands
above his head in agony. The night
was barely cooler than the day. and
yet a chill struck in upon him in the
midst of his loneliness, for he was re-
alizing how alone he had been in life,
and how much a friend Jerry Archer
had been to him. He had been carried
past all thoughts of public duties, of
that he was a lonely man and Jerry
Archer had been shis friend. Lonely?
Yes; for there was some native aloof-
ness in the soul Of Robinson. Other
friends were doubtless even now besieg-
ing the hospital, grouping with anxiety
and tears in the reception room, but he,
Victor Robinson, sat here apart, watch
ing his friend die through the eye OF. a
telephone wire.
After fifteen minutes he could wait
no longer, but rang up the physician:
Archer? No change? came back
the answer presently.
No change! Then the sinking had
stopped. Victor tortured himself with
wondering IL this was true or Just the
stereotyped answer they were giving out
to all inquiries.
Then after what seemed an age came
the colorless voice of the doctor again:
Very weak. but pulse steadying"
THANK God ~ gulped Victor. There
But the voice on the other end did
not not 5; say there .,o was Buck up, Rollin-
words carried with them breath of
the valiant. spirit With which those
skilled watchers yonder by the bedside
were waging their fight against death.
Buck up? OF course he must buck
UP. Victor was rather surprised at his
own weakness and tried to get his usual
stout grip upon himself. This effort
was aided by the messages that came
at intervals now of every half hour or
&C.. Holding g. his own" "Rallyinsr'
stronger came again.
Then he Will live?" exulted Rollin-
son..
ITS a question of infection now"
explained the medical man. That was
the knife Aurentsky cut bananas of
the stalk with-gunlmy. naturally. with
every sort Of flying germ adhering to
This was unsettling again, and Victor
hung up the phone with his heart still
of brooding he lifted up his head, dawn
was stealing in ghostly fashion through
the deep canyons Of the streets. Medi-
tative he watched the growing of the
daytime aspect was revealed and fitted
dow afforded.
~, Presently the picture was complete.
was one spot In Victor's mind that had
been bright when the sun went down,
which now refused to tighten. 1t was
the, spot in which his love- for Sylvy
mad glowed for more than a year with
shekinah-like radiance. That, he re-
flected. was. psychologically natural
The moment her love for him had been
admitted, that other thing. the race bar
rler-before ignored as something negli-
gible-had now suddenly loomed black
and insurnountable. But there was
no comfort in mere psychological analy-
sis.
Taking firm hold upon himself, and
shaking the heaviness from his eyes,
though he could not shake it out Of his
heart, Victor went to his nearest club.
seeking the refreshment of bath and
strong coffee before facing the RESPONSE.
bilities of the day. which he foresaw
would be many.
AS he passed along the morning pa
Victor did not purchase one, and refused
himself even a glance at the headlines.
He knew all that they had to tell him,
aarnoh and for i,s the time time being was not con
phia, however. with an inkling of WHAT
was to be expected from the extras Of
the night before. was slipping out into
aasi%Sys nnatShins and an g. on TO- doorsteps and
vouring them eagerly. Never had those
newspapers displayed a more exciting
Grant street peddler had made an at
tempt to murder one Of the most promi-
nent men in the city; the fact that this
mans life had been saved by young.
fore, the rescued one had been trying
to destroy financially: the fact that
| the gallant young man was prob
ably fatally wounded; the fact that. on
| the top or so recent a quarrel. he should
| have been at the Office of Buckingham
at all; the fact that Miss Ruth Buck
ingham had rushed to the side of the
wounded man, had ridden in the ambu-
lance to the hospital and had kept
a nightly vigil while the surgeons
fought for his life; the fact that Jere-
miah T. Archer was the recognized
leader Of new political movement
the old regime into the discard-each
of these facts constituted news
feature. and they all combined to ex-
cite the widest interest They piled
sensation upon sensation.
The reporters had winnowed and as
sembled the details with keen appreci-
alton OF their Importance. The re-
write men had exhausted their vocabu-
iaries on leads and descriptions that
left no dramatic possibility untouched.
and make<up editors had cheerful1y
crowded the war into the background
and spread all over the front pages
Philadelphia had ever read. :.
But greater zest. even, than that in
duced by the current news interest in
the facts related, sprang from a sus-
picion Of other facts that might lay be-
meath the surface. Readers felt in
stinctively that the story printed did
not tell all the story. Editors and re-
porters had been equally convinced Of
that. This lent color to speculation. and
gave Importance to attempts to inter-
pret the meaning of the tragedy. This
was made difficult by the coincidence
that two Of the chief actors could not
be interviewed. The lips of Jerry
Archer, it was explained, might be
sealed forever before the presses had
stopped running. Jacob Aurentsky was
held incommunicado. and being sweated
under orders from the Federal Secret
Service, which. for some reason not un-
derstood, had taken an Immediate in
terest in the prisoner.
Mr.. Buckingham. Of course. could be
interviewed, but he expressed himself
with reserve, He. it should be made
clear. continued to feel himself an in
jured party. He was injured that a
man should have attempted TO stab him
at all: he was injured that the man
who saved his life happened to be his
most dangerous political enemy injured
that his daughter Ruth should be dis
closed as in love with the young hero
and injured that all this pother of pub