The Washington herald., 1920-01-26
YeHow Men Sleep
sYNopsls on rRrcEpINa INsTLLMENrs

SYNOPSIS or PRECEDING INsTLLMENrs.
Con Lexington, at the age Of o. hnds
himself an orphan In Dowasiac. Mich.
laced By the city council In the care o. an
humble family. His mother had marr1ed Q
Rsd disinAsrited her. His father. srived
BY the death Of his wife ppon Cons birth,
is q world Wanderer with6Ais son up to the
time Of the elders 3eath. hastened oy
opiates.
CHAPTER II
PURPLE rRACERY
In the darkness of the months and
years that followed. Con Lexington
did not suffer consciously from the
horrors of his environment. He be-
came much like ii. and through the
accommodating Aims Of sordid expe-
rience he saw but vaguely that
there was more in life than this.
Whenever anything beautiful fore.
ed its way toward him. he could not
imagine that It might be for him
self. Yet the true heritage In his
blood MS not lost. Merely his de-
cent, poets young seIe was woven
and crossed with NTH.
For long. fevered period OF boy
hood and youth, he lived q story OF
waste that needs no telling. At no
time did either his environment or
his inner soul win out completely.
Thus. he companioned with the
scum of cities. after running away
from Dowagiac,. also took q few
music lessons Of Max Markov. q
Doung Russian spirit in Chicago.
He spent much of his time at a club
of questionables. yet managed to
make a firm friend Of Premenez. a
Spaniard in French diplomatic cir
cles, q princely person Of ire
proachable standing. Con never
realized what an indigestible layer
cake he was making out Of life. The
nearest he ever came to straighten-
ing himself. out was during recur-
rences Of a longing to know more,
to see more. to see deeper into the
complexities about him. He forgot
his father and mother, even forgot
the dirty woman whose marks were
still upon his habits. but this long
ing would come frequently, out Of
the wells Of his spirit. perhaps to
be instantly polluted. denied, smiled
down. Con did not believe that
iNoi inv was iof suSh 90
Both TO the underworld and to the
upper realms of society. he felt
somehow an outsider.
There was at last a series of
events that quickened his longing
to a degree that would not be put
aside. The pressure of these strange
events formed his life, once for all.
The better story begins here, the
final raveling out of the ugly weave
in his days. Through these events,
all the longings of early years.
even the yearnings of those who
went before him, were intensified
and definitely answered.
Destiny. for Con, Lexington. be-
gan swiftly to untangle at a din
<her, a quiet affair with one of his
newest friends.
This fate-laden dinner was shad-
ed and silvery. served for two, in
the smaller dining-room OF the
Wedger house. The members of the
family were all away. save one.
Cecil Wedger sat opposite his
guest, Lexington. and talked can
didly of the numerous motion-pic-
ture stars in his golden orbit. The
guest. while attentive. and never
missing his hosts callow pleasan-
NihVo' &C up DC
best he might under the boredom.
and at the same time conceaIing the
'emotion in his heart. Con was
aware of Destiny.
The wine was expensive II not
mellow. and the cooking was un-
deniably good, having been accom-
plished by Cecirs own attache-a
Chinese, whose existence seemed to
begin and end in the night-hyiny
son of the wedgers.
Con. taller than his father, held a
likeness to John Lexington only
about the eyes and temples, some
thing grave and tense, that disap-
peared when he laughed. He tried
not to show the strain that this
hour held for him, although in the
luminous haze of cigarette smoke
his features were a degree drawn
and pale. His voice had a natural
sincerity. The eyes. blue-gray and
steady, seemed to hide none of the
secrets that hovered in the lines
around his mouth. The gentle ex-
cellence of his brow and head rank
ed him one with those who had been
carefully directed. well combed at
the start. Con was a good listener.
His were well-built limbs. the
shoulders almost too massive.
though he was slim through the
waist. and sometimes abashed at
the fineness of his hands.
The integrity of this only son of
two consumnate lovers had been
tempered in the roaring pits of the
world. Con had never been one to
wait for temptation. As the reti-
cence of childhood had been rubbed
away. and before mans dignity
had come to him. he had been FAM
ously ready. He had scaled the
walls around the garden of illusion,
battered his way joyfully along its
paths, and plunged into every al
turing pool. He had found its
promises worthless. and had aged in
dozen years. His inner prompt
ing had taken a false lead, but he
mad no regrets. With help he had
at length found his way out into the
clean and cooling winds of human
ity. He had discovered again the
treasures of a small-town boyhood.
the satisfaction of open fields, the
sun in his eyes. Morning air on the
slopes was wine to him. In the
blue rush of the sea he tried his
strength and found it suficient.
These were what he had wanted all
the while. But the guide-posts had
all pointed the other way.
Cecil Wedger's invitation to din
ner was a part of a plan. The To-
quacious Wedger sprout had no no.
tion that he was being used. Nor
DID on feel guilty in the deception.
Tor ne was stepping into a work
that claimed all his best energies.
Ihe chinese servant entered like
living shadow. bringing fresh cof-