Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1920-01-28
~ for" said Mr.. Cullen.
"Oh. dad" said Angela, with quick
intake of her breath.

-Ou, uhu baiu Au8csep WIN VuiCk
intake Of her breath.
vlrtuoua wsy ~. Cullen. A church.
goer and Q csrnfuunlcant, was Mr.. Cul.
len. Asgiver Of aims. and friend to
his friends---bst In forgetting that the
evil that men do shouldn't rightfully
be allowed to live on after them, and
In remembering, perhaps too clearly At
that moment, the anal interview he
had held with Dlcky Morgan, Mr.. Cul.
len throttied repentance into . state
Of furious helplcssness, and brought
back Hllllard to his senses.
EYES," said billiard, "he had plenty
to he sorry for, and he was. OF his
troubles here. I'm not capable Of sit
ting ~ judge. Instead, I sat as con.
fessor. So that you'll bs more inter
estsd In that part Of his life which
you evidently haven't known about.
and I have. He left here. think. In
December. He hadn't any fixed pur-
pose; all he wanted was to find a
place where he could begin over again
on a fresh basis, and make man OF
himself. For that much. at
least, you can give him credit"
"And do" said Cullen, spproyingly.
Hilliard. swept again by the near
ness of dellverance from his decelts.
leaned forward. A strong Endorsement
what" said Mr.. Cullen.
billiard shrugged his shoulders.
II said he told me much about him
self. He sailed under his own name,
and dare say you can verify that
In New York. Hut when he landed,
he took an alias. He had wanted to
start over again. unhsmpered. Moth
ing could have been more opportune
than this chance. See what 1t gave
himl He simply dybpped out Of the
world. !. 1t was the possibility
of losing himself utterly that first APP
pealed to him. And there must have
been good cause"
EYES," said Mr.. Cullen absently.
"There was. But always the
atrical, Dick was. That was so like
him--to do just that sort Of thing, and
to do 1t just that way"
"As nearly as l COULD gather" snld
Hnliard, "he had been practically
err ostracized here. Is
that correct" He noted that Angela
flinched at the suggestion. and that
her head was dropping very low.
'Y-e-e-s, but there was good rea-
son for it."
"OhI dad" said Angela, pleadingly,
below her breath. please don't say
things Like that can't stand any
more"
"What his oflense may have been,
don't know" said Hilliard, plung-
ing doggedly into his narrative. But
he left town, so he told me, in a
tremendous revulsion Of feeling. His
one ambition was to make something
Of himself, to wash out the past--to
Justify his existence. And he went
overseas with the idea of genuine
service and sacrifice. And. very soon,
terribly soon v. during a night
attack they got him." Hill
lard paused effectively. There
wasn't a chance in hundred for him
to recover, and he knew 1t. And then
1t came to him, blindingly and desper-
ately, that the world-that IS. the
world which had known him In his
failures--would never hear what he
had done. He had made his sacri-
flee, and it was useless. In hospital,
he was Pierre Dutout, you see
| and between that character, and his
own, was the barrier of, the subter.
fuge he had grasped so eagerly-his
alias, and his false record. No one
would have any reason to doubt that
he wasn't what, he purported to be,
He craved to tell someone; to send
back a message to his old friends
and I happened to be there-and he
confided in me. And here am, Mr..
Cullen. Bringing credentials. Now,
in the first place, have photograph
Of him, taken from his original pass
port" He produced 1t from his peck
ct, and offered 1t to Mr.. Cullen. rs
there any mistake, sir? Or is it the
Dick Morgan you know"
Mr.. Cullen switched on standing
lamp; Angela hid her face, and shrank
back from the white electric glare.
"Yes-yes." He gave the tiny pic
ture to his daughter. "There's no ques.
ton about it, Mr.. Hllliard"
That's Dick!" said Angela agon.
izedly.
"With his signature, Of course-you
recognize II, do your"
Its his handwriting fast enough"
conceded Mr.. Cullen. He looked up at
Hilliard, and his brows were furrow.
ed, a. though he were struggling to
comprehend what all this had to do
with the Cullen family. "Yes. Ora
matte boy, he was-always. Shows
don't it,"
"Dramatic--yes. That is--imagina.
tive. Venturesome. And it's a quail.
ity that sometimes makes heroes Mr.
Cullen, Would you have call.
| ed him brave?'
Of Morgan's ambition ut this juncture
might yet have brought about re-
cantation.
"I'm glad you DO, Mr.. Cullen. .
1 think myself 1t was the only course
| ha "coIIfl have taken" He hung peril