Oxford eagle., 1918-10-24
THE PRODIGAL SON.
(By Louis Cochran.)

dics AabsAouf PchhicSo, 0hoASs eAsAa
friendless in the great city, John
Donne was truly to be pitied. AS he
walked along the corridor to the shah
by little room he called home, he slow
ly took letter from the pocket of his
threadbare coat. Walking with fall
tering uncertain steps, John looked at
it with dark ugly scowl on his face.
Slowly he took the letter from
the envelope, and after darting a
hasty glance about him, leaned heavi-
ly against the wall to read it for the
third time. A truly pathetic picture
he made-this prodigal son-as he
bent over the few pages he held in
his shaking hand. Carefully he pc
rused it to the end, and then, with a
haggard, half frightened, almost terri
fed look on his face, he walked with
still more uncertain steps to his door.
Almost at the threshold he stopped.
There before him lay a pocket book,
not a fat bullying money bag, but
small pocket book almost as shabby as
John, and as unprepossessing. Half
contemptuously he spurned it with his
foot, and then, with a slow, depreca-
tory smile, stopped and picked it up.
Again darting a hasty glance be-
tween the forbidding walls of the
gloomy hall, he stepped carefully in
side his room, and as carefully, closed
the door, and locked it. Pulling his
delapidated coat more closely about
him, for the chill blasts of autumn
were beginning to be felt, he walked
aimlessly to the cherries radiator,
and exacted as much comfort as he
could from its lukewarm surface.
Tremulously, with awkward, fumbling
fingers, he lifted the pocket book from
the depths of his coat pocket, and un-
fastened it. He heard no jingle of
coins, nor saw the welcome sight of
greenbacks.
With hopeless, maudlin gesture,
he started to cast it away, when his
fingers cme in contact with the
cracking surface of bill. Instantly
his face frightened. An eager, Graz
ed look of expectancy came into his
face, and he feverishly drew the bill
out of the wallet What was il? He
dared not look. The fear that it
might be bill of small denomination,
which was most likely, took hold of
him, and it was only by exerting the
remnants of his feeble will power that
he forced his eyes to look at it. Fifty
dollars! He could scarcely credit the
evidence of his senses. Fifty dollars.
With that he might get several square
meals, buy more clothing, what could
he not do-with fifty dollars? With
his fevered imagination, it seemed
that this fifty dollar bill, he held in
his hand, was capable of buying all
that was good in the world. There
might be more. Tremulously, he
shook the shabby pocket book, but
only a small card fell out. Picking it
up-he read-Mrs. James Z. Neely.
Mrs. James Z. Neeley, who was that ?
Oh yes, he knew her, a poor widow
who roomed around the corner. He
had never suspected her of having
money. Yet there was fifty dollars
IN her purse. Yes, it wasn't his, but
hers. John had not stopped TO theft,
as yet, but he paled at the thought of
returning it to its rightful owner.
Yet what could he do? The widow
needed the money as badly as he did
and he needed it-God only knew
how bad If he returned it he would
be as bad off as before, and if he kept
it-what?A square meal, a new suit.
perhaps, board paid up for a month.
what could not be done with fifty
dollars? He clutched the bill tight
ly, as if afraid that it would slip away. |
And yet, he was not thief, had n ever |
been one, no matter how long he had |
sunk. He would return The pocket |
book, and bill, 10 its rightful owner,
to the poor widow who had, no doubt.
toiled many weary months, befole she |
had saved this out of her pitifui m
come. Johns brow became smooth
again, the scowl passed away, his
eyes lost their feverish look-he re-
solved to do the right thing-be the
ever so bad to himself. |
Slowly his hand dropped again in
his pocket, and carelessly his fingers
touched the letter he had received
only that morning. Almost without
thought he drew it ous again and be- |
gan to read. The last paragraph
caught his eye, and Immediately ar
rested his attention. "John Doone,"
ne read, 81 no longer regard you as a |
son. Seven years ago, when you left |
me, / offered to received you again as
a parent but Won lau0hed in eontap,pt