The herald., 1920-12-16

now, TO trust to the mercies OF those
easily opened boxes. One Ie,.er tbat
went astray might throw him back a
week IN his researches, and others
were on the track, eager to antici.
pate MIN in his discovery. He took
thin envelope from the postmap
slahclng at it indifferently. No this
was not from the chemical works
wen, doubtless that one would arrive
On the morrow. He voiced the hope
unconsciously.
why professor, there's no delivery
tomorrow" said the letter carrier
cheerfully. Don't you know what
night this is? This is Christmas Eve"
christmas Eve! Good, That would
mean less traffic in the street beneath
MS window to disturb him the next
DAY. But stay! That meant a post.
ponement in the letters arrival He
grumbled something at the letter car.
rler' VINO went down the uncarpeted
stairs, shaking his head at the strange
ness OF some people in not knowing
When Christmas Eve came. But doubt.
less he had no friends to keep the date
in his memory, poor old fellow,
Herr Mayo looked at the letter again
and his face paled His heart began
70 drum in his ears, and he cast il
down on table and sank into a chair.
passing his hand YEARLY across his
forehead. The letter was from his
daughter.
After awhile he found courage to
open 1t, and, when he had read the
hrst line, he read it all, swallowing
hard in his throat.
Dearest Father" Git RAM:
Don't think that | am writing to
you tonight to beg your aid. But it is
Just flve years since mother died. and
little more than four since | last saw
you. and | cannot keen silence anv
longer. want to tell you that a little
boy was born to me He is all the
world to me. Indeed, We are very
happy. | teach him to mention YOU
in his prayers. We do not want
money, for | can support him, and |
would work my fingers to the bone for
MIN. But | want him TO know you,
father. VIII you not forget all the
past and let me bring or send him
to you, for mothers sake, so that he
may grow up TO feel that | am not
the only relative he has on earth? He
is named Julius, after you. and he has
faxen curls all over his shoulders.
He is the dearest thing in the world
to me-"
The address given was quite near
where Herr Mayo lived. No doubt his
daughter had often passed his house:
perhaps she had seen him sometimes
when, bordering over his problem, he
paced the streets, a curious, shabby
figure. in that busy mart of men.
Herr Mayo raised his head and set
the letter down with trembling fin
gers. He was not by nature hard
man; his marriage had proved that.
But he had made his choice for once
and for all. He looked toward the
test tube on the table The golden
liquid was slowly cooling into brown.
And he knew that that lay between
them as surely as though each gleam-
ing bubble on it were miser's gold.
His past should never rise up to dis
turb him now. 1t was To assuage his
grief and disappointment at first that
he had turned toward his researches
Now the hobby had become a tyrant,
and he had sold his soul into its keep
ing. His choice was made. He tore
the paper into twenty strips and flung
them into the blazing stove. He had
but glanced at the address, and al
ready it had vanished from his mind.
Now there was no turning back,
though his daughters words scorched
his soul as the paper was scorching in
the fire.
He turned to his work again. But
he could work no longer. PhantomS
of his past rose up to reproach him.
There was his wife, Minna, looking at
him with her steady eyes; he had
never refused her anything, and he
knew that, were she alive. he could
NOT bnr ha