The Clio messenger. (Clio, Mich.) 1907-current, 1920-04-08
CHAPTER IIi.-continued.


shoulder, Mr.. Cullen strained to Ce-
cipher the uneven penmanship. He
began to read aloud:
Dear Mr.. Cullen:
al am asking Mr.. Henry Hilliard
to bring you this letter personally. I
want him to tell you what I'm not
writing, too. And you can tell other
people, If you care to.
81 want you to know that since I've
had time to think, I've changed my
mind about good many things. I've
come to the conclusion that you were
right and / was wrong. Maybe you
won't remember the last talk we had
together, but 1 do. You told me then
that / didn't have 1t in me to make
good unless learned that l was about
the most worthless young man in town,
and the one with the hardest row to
hoe In order to make something out
Of myself, and set out from there.
Well, I've learned 1t. 1 had to. OF
course, l couldn't agree with you at
the time. That wouldn't have been
expected. But over here I've had one
lesson after another. Some of them
were pretty bitter, but they've all
helped. And since May, when / was
hurt, I've had lots Of time to think
them over.
"I never deserved your kindness and
now l can't ever repay 1t. But 1t may
please you to know that this war
has taught me what you tried TO, and
couldn't-that l was as close to zero
value at home as a man could be. It's
only through this war that I've got
any pride in myself, and I'm sort of
like Kipling's gentleman ranker-Tm
proud of myself because I've done
away with all the other kinds of pride
1 used to have. And / believe I've
made good-not as a great general,
but as a private soldier. That was
the trouble at home-I was only fit
to be n private, and thought / could
be- general off hand. You said I'd
do well If 1 learned that, and l have.
They gave me the Croix de Guerre,
and In a way, that proves 1t, doesn't
lit Notice that they didn't even make
me a corporal, though! That's all
right haven't had enough training
yet to be corporal It's curious
that I'll admit that, isn't 1t?
~ want you to know that I've
thought Of you great deal. l don't
blame you for letting me go. l did
once, but / don't now. Please think
Of me, though, as man who came
through at the finish, even If he'd been
pretty hopeless before.
billiard, the best man in the world,
has promised to bring you this letter.
1 hope you'll be glad to see him, and
to hear his side Of the story. This is
my apology and my blessing, If that's
worth anything to you. l send kiss
to Angela.
"R. M"
Mr.. Cullen ended with falling in
Election, and let the hand which held
the letter drop to his knee.
"The letter, as you might guess from
the looks of It," said billiard, twas
written at several different times-ac-
cording to his strength. l want you
to realize, too, Mr.. Cullen, that II was
no small effort for him to write IT..
And then 1 was In Switzerland when
he died, and his possessions had an
gone to one Of those tape-bound bu-
reaus, so that had fearful time to
identify myself and get what he had
meant me to have, and after that,
had to make sudden trip to Russia
and back to England again. There
were delays-delays. 1 was iii for
several months myself; / had typhoid
In London. l should have mailed
these things to you long ago, but he
had begged me to come In person, and
had promised. And every day l ex-
pected that In another week or two
I should start for home. / feel that
I owe you this explanation and a
great plea for forgiveness for what
must seem to you like gross indlffer-
ence on my part. But landed hard
~ two weeks ago, and 4 came up to
you at the earliest possible moment"
an some ways, he vas most re-
niarkable young man., said Mr.. Gull
len, irrelevantly. Nobody ever I'M
derstood why he turned out such a
black sheep. Came from a fine old
family. suppose his father was one
of The most loved men In onondaga
sOunty Dick lived ,or years on his