Perth Amboy evening news., 1922-08-24
'Me RED HOUSE a uzeR
MYSTERY E.11 p
W AAMILNE
. on Eponn company $50 Y. & NM8NkEze

: would rather that they too know the
whole story. They, and even you,
may call it murder, but by that
time / shall be out OF the way. Let
them call it what they like.
Il must begin by taxing you
back to a summer day fifteen years
ago, when | was a boy of thirteen
and Mark a young man of twenty
five. His whole life was make-be-
: lieve, and just now ne was pretend
ing to be a philanthrOpist.
He sat in our little drawing
room, Ticking his gloves against the
back of his left hand, and my
mother, good soul, thought what a
noble young gentleman he was, and
Philip and J.. hastily washed ana
crammed into collars. stood in front
of him, nudging each other and
kicking the backs of our heels and
cursing him in our hearts for hav-
interrupted Il game.
"He had decided to adopt one of
us, kind Cousin Mark. Heaven
knows why he chose me. Philip
was eleven; two years longer to wait.
Perhaps that was why.
"Well, Mark educated me. | went
to a public school and to Cambridge,
and | became his secretary. Well,
much more than his secretary as
your friend Beverly perhaps has
told you. Mark could never live
alone. There must always be m
body to listen to him, | think in
his heart he hoped | should be his
Boswell. He told me n day that
he had made me his literary execu-
tor-poor devil. And he used to
write me the a%bsurdest long letters
when l was away from him, letters
which I read once and then tore up.
The futility of the man!
ut was three years ago that Philip
got into trouble. He lad been hur-
ried through a cheap grammar
school and into a London Office and
discovered there that there vas not
much fun to be got in this world on
two pounds a week. I mad a frantic
letter from him one day. saying that
he must have a hundred at once, or
he would be ruined. sHd | went to
Mark for the money.
"Only to borrow It, o under
stand: he gave me a good salary and
l could have paid it back in three
months. But no. He saw nothing
for himself in it, I suppose; no APP
plause, no admiration. Philips
SfhlIluue WouIu NC ~ ihe, hot ~
him.
II begged, I threatened, we ar
gued; and while we we're arguing,
Philip was arrested. 1t killed my
mother-he was always her favorite
but Mark, as usual got his salts
faction out of it. He preened him
self on his judgment of character
in having chosen me and not Philip
twelve years before!
Later on | a~pologized to Mark for
the reckless things | had said to
him, and he played the part of a
magnanimous gentleman with his
accustomed skill, but. though out
wardly we were as before to each
other, from that day forward though
his vanity would never let him see
it, 1 was his bitterest enemy.
"If that had been Gll, | wonder III
/ should have killed him? To live
on terms Of intimate Friendship with
a man whom you hate is dangerous
work for your friend. Because of
his belief in me as his admiring and
grateful protege and his belief in
himself as my benefactor. he was
now utterly in my power. | could
take my time and choose my oppor-
tunity. Perhaps / should not have
killed him, but | had worn t have
my reVenge-and there he was, poor
vain fool, at my mercy. / was in
no hurry.
1.-TWO years later I had to recon
slider my position, for my revenge
was being taken out OF my hands.
Mark began to drink. Could / have
stopped him? l don't think so, but
to my immense surprise l found
myself trying to. Instinct, perhaps.
getting the better of reason; or did
I reason it out and tell myself that.
If he drank homself to death /
should lose my revenge? Upon my
word, / canno tell you; but, for
whatever motive, | did genuinely
want to stop it. Drinking is such a
beastly thing, anyhow.
continued in Next Issuc)