San Antonio light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1911-1993, 1923-04-01

RE of being an underpaid subordinate
in his employ.
Maynard's features, mobile, express
siye, clean-cut, radiated intelligence
and the habit of command. The deep
ly graved lines around Guthrie's
mouth. the mild blue eyes, betokened
stolidity, perhaps, and lifetime spent
in taking orders.
Yet when Maynard spoke. he ad-
dressed his remarks to "Mr. Guthrie /;
and when Guthrie replied, he did not
accord Maynard the dignity of pre-
fix. Stranger yet, the two were din
ing together, dining in frowsy room
attached to a fifth-class restaurant
and Guthrie had ordered for both
while Maynard stared in moody 81
lence.
The waiter pushed his way out
through the battered door and returned
an instant later with fleet of
Clipped china dishes which he pro-
ceeded to deal out impartially. Then
he left the oddly assorted pair alone
Maynard examined the lukewarm
viands with disapproval.
IL don't think / can eat any
thing"
Guturle Smiley SlAIy years OF
overfIowing life had taught him pa
thence :. and long experience with men
in Maynard's position had made him
indulgent. Maynard had most excel
lent reasons for being dissatisfied.
An hour ago he had been free, with
every prospect of Indefinitely con-
tinued liberty. Then, walking around
a corner, spinning golden day-dreams,
h l. l,..1 ,arl& ,tN4z h.
of the one man he had seemed least
likely to meet-and most dreaded
meeting.
he should have foreesen it, groaned
Maynard, as he watched Guthrie
helping himself literally. For five
long months, posing as an invalid, he
had not stirred from the obscure
boarding house in which he had taken
refuge at the end of his solitary
flight. He might well have endured
five months more, and have made hiIA-
self secure beyond peradventure. The
weather was to blame. The golden
sunlight, the scented spring breezes,
the shouts of romping children-all
these had called TO something deep be-
low the surface for Maynard was a
young man. The chances of his be-
ing recognized here, 500 miles from
home, were remote.
According to the laws Of probable
ity, Maynard should never have been
caught. And yet now he was break
ing bread with the man who was
presently to take him back for pun
ishment.
mo wonder he kicks about the
food" reflected Guthrie, and contin-
ued aloud between mouthfuls: We'll
get better dinner than this when we
get on the train"
"Um," commented Maynard un-
graciously, do we start tonight"
"This afternoon" corrected Guth-
RE. We leave on the 4 O'Clock"
Maynard cast an appraising glance
at his captor. Over 60. tall, power
fully built, Guthrie would have pre-
scented no inconsiderable obstacle 20
years ago-even ten years ago. But
age had weakened him; time had
whitfield down the sturdy muscles.
The man who had captured Maynard
was nothing but a shell of what he
had once been, an antagonist hardly
to be reckoned with seriously.
Violence itself Maynard dreaded.
But with his freedom at stake he
would stop at nothing. They would
be alone an afternoon and a night.
perhaps longer. Surely within that
time an opportunity would present
itself. Maynard would be quick to
seize it.
Impersonally he compared his own
physique with that of his captor. On
the score of weight he was at good
80 pounds disadvantage but Guth-
$. -. flo1
by. He himself was in the pink of
condition.
He smiled contemptuously. 1t was
characteristic of him that he gave not
the least thought to the weapons
which Guthrie certainly carried. He
would choose a time when his captor
would have TO rely on his bare hands
alone. He fell upon his meal with
better appetite.
Guthrie smiled.
That's right; make the best Of it.
You can never tell-you may be lucky
when you get into court. The judge
may let you off easy"
Court! Judge. Those two factors
had had no place in his calculations.
Maynard would never be caught :
that he had decided on the night that
he bad impulsively planned the crime.
1t could be done; it could be done
safely, If cleverly enough. Cleverly
That thought had been his damna-
ton. Had it been merely question
of lawbreaking. his instincts would
never have permitted him to 90
wrong. But it had been a question
of matching his wits against the wits
of the creditors who would descend
upon him in swarm were they to
get an inkling of the truth. And il
had seemed, in those distant days
th.tt his lie might pass without de
lection. Business was sure to get
better. The bank. and the thin-lipped
examiner who had checked his ac-
count. would never know how near
he had been to destruction.
And then, somehow, business had
failed to get better. Collections were
bad checks were not coming in. Yet
he was compelled to settle his own
accounts promptly; any other course
would have involved fatal admissions.
Slowly, relentlessly, inevitably, May
nard saw his downfall approaching.
His principal competitor had given up
the fight. had thrown himself on the
mercy of his creditors, and was TO be
tided over. Bitterly Maynard reflect
ed that had he not been so unneces-
sarily clever, he might have done the
same thing. But his signature on the
false statement had closed that ave-
nue. OF relief. He was beyond the
pale: for him there would be no as
sistance, nothing but n swift trial,
disgrace, and years in prison.