American Fork citizen. [volume] (American Fork, Utah) 1912-1979, 1922-07-22
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CHAV9N ].
II was over. The rambling hous..
with it, ricksty. old-fashiousd furni.
fure--aad it, memories now DE-
serted except for Robert rsirchiid.
ana hs was deserted within Il, wan.
osfing from room to room staring At
familiar objects with the unfamiliar
eass OF one whose vision suddenly
has been warped By the visitation Of
death and the sense Of leasiinssS that
Il brings.
LonslinssA rather than grief, for II
had been Robert Fairchild's promise
that he would not suffer In heart for
one who had longed to 70 into q peace
FOR which he had waited. seemingly in
vain. Year after year. Thornton Fair.
child had at In the big armchair By
the windows. watching the days grow
old and fade into night. studying sun
~ amer sunset, voicing the vain hope
mat the cleaning might bring the twi-
light Of his own existence--a silent
man except for this, rarely speaking Of
the past, never giving to the SON who
worked tor him, cared for him. wer-
shipped him, the slightest inkling Of
what might have happened in the dim
days Of the long ago to transform him
into beaten thing. longing for the
hnal surcease. And whom the end
came, II found him In readiness, waIf-
Ing In the big armchair By the win
dowa Even now. q book lay on the
fraysd carpsting Of the old room,
where II had fallen from relaxing fiu.
gers. Robert Fairchild picked Il up,
and with . sigh restored Il to the
grim, fumed oak case. HE days Of
petty sacrifices that his father might
while away the weary hours With
reading were ovss.
What had been the pastf Why the
silencei Why the patient, yet lmpa.
TENT wait for deathf The sou did not
know. In all his memories was only
one faint picture, painted years ~
fore IN babyhood: ~ return Of his
father from some place, he knew not
where. q long conference With his
mother behind CLOSED doors, while he,
n childlike curiosity. waited without,
seeking In vain TO catch some expla.
nation. Then 4 sad-faced woman who
cried At night when the house was
still. who faded and who died. That
was all. The picture carried no sx-
PLANTATION.
And now Robert Fairchild stood on
the threshold Of something he almost
feared to learn. Once. on q black,
stormy night. they had eat together,
father and son before the Ore. silent
Tor hours. Then the hand Of the
white-haired man had reached out
ward and rested for Z moment on the
young mans knee.
II wrote something to you. Boy. q
day or 20 ago." he had said. 'sIhat
little illness ] had prompted me 70
DO T. IL thought L was only fair
70 you. After Tn gone. look IN the
cafe. You'll ind the comblnation on
. piece Of paper hidden 10 hals cut
SooEcdss. have soSf promise. /
know-that your not do 1t until after
I'm gone" -,.-@
Now Thornton Fairchild was gone.
hut a message had remained behind !:
one which the patient lips evidently
had feared TO utter during life. The
heart Of the son began to pound, slow
and hard, as, with the memory Of that
conversation. he turned toward the
bookcase and Unmatched the paneled
door. A moment more and the hol-
lowed history had given up its trust,
a bit Of paper scratched with numbers.
Robert Fairchild turned toward the
stairs and the small room on the SEQ
ond floor which had served az his Il.
theirs bedroom.
There he hesitated before the little
iron safe in the corner summoning
the courage TO unlock the doors Of Q
dead mans past.
The safe had not been opened In
years; that was evident from the
creaking of the plungers as they fell,
the gummy resistance OF the knob as
Fairchild turned II In accordance with
the directions on the paper. Finally,
a great wrench. and the bolt was
drawn grudgingly back; a strong pull,
and the safe opened.
Falrchild crouched for a moment.
staring. before he reached for the
thinner OF two envelopes which lay
before him. A moment later he
Strengthened and turned toward the
Iif-lt A crirl iin. 10 ,,a,>a, . ..,.s<..-