The Challis messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1912-current, 1924-11-05
THICKER
THAN
WATER
70. Doubleday. Page & Coz
By MARY B. wooDsoN

EEP In the maze of offices, oil
John st. Clair sat and pante
IL old, withered, bloodless Johl
st. Clair Outside, the office
Of st. Clair 4 Co. hummed busiIy
Telephones shrilled, office boys race
madly. typewriters leaped and ratified
citizens of the United States, display
ing large white waistcoats and dia
monds. conyersed earnestly witt
other such citizens, behind brass rail-
ings, and became bulls or bears or
the spot; vayt sums of money were
being handled-on paper. railroads
and small investors were being
bought and sold stocks were being
watered, bricks gilded And captains
OF commerce were coming with cring-
Ing knees to borrow old st. Glars
gold. though widows and orphans
never got past the first office boy.
But here, In this inner Office. where
old st. Clair sat like u money-spider
In Its web. II was still-very still
and suddenly very lonely. A minute
ago old st. Clair had been a little
king, despotlcal.y ruling his kingdom
by might of gold. Now he was only
a frightened old man. For his busy
brain, Yinning endless webs of iinan-
cial intrigue and piracy, had limped.
all at once. whirled, all but stopped.
Faster than the flood of wealth rolled
In. the sands of life seemed run
ming out.
Totterlng, staggering, almost whim-
pering, old John st. Clair got up sud
denly and walked weakly back and
forth. Every day 1t was more effort
to get up and dress; every night there
was less strength In his weary body
to face nsomnla-insomnla where
yesterdays door he had shut so long
ago and locked. would open. And
now this This loneliness, this fright
And the doctor telling him today that
he couldn't do thing for him with
all his money. Saying he'd played the
game too hard and he'd have to pay
Nature heavy interest now. Abrupt
ly. old John st. Clair cackled and
feebly doubled a bony fist. Fools
doctors. And what had he answered?
Il need tonic to give me some
backbone" he'd shouted. That's what
he'd said. And the fool doctor had
told him:
Drop business. Get outdoors-live,
eat, sleep outdoors and be happy. |
That's your tonic"
Snddnn1u al |
Clair was painting again. He glimpsed
he futility of all he had. His hard
Eyes were fear once more-fear and
pain. Happy Fat chance, If money
wasn't being happy. If he dropped
business and remembered and thought
md yearned and fought 1t all over
lgaln. now that he was Old
"Oh. bosh !" painted old John st.
Jlalr. stubbornly. sitting down at his
lesk again, dizzlly taking up his pen,
Wildly trying to marshal his thoughts.
I was the third time he had said,
Oh, boshl" lately. And it was once
90 often.
The next day the prime minister OF
ohm st. Glars little kingdom, pene-
rating respectfully into the spiders
uiet parlor, found the king crum-
led, insensible body in the chair of
tate. Terrible minutes followed be-
)re the frail, yellow shell that held
he Pickering spirit Of the great finan-
er was finally carried secretly up to
lie great art museum where he lived
alone. and where he fought his bit
r battle--alone. True, his money
ought plenty Of hired hands and sci
ace and skill to keep the vital spark
ckering In the worn old body, but
ley alone. also. smoothed his pillows
I'D bathed his face. No living soul
kin was there to care. a
And outside. the papers screamed
it'll headlines detailing the money !
ng's Involuntary abdication, the mar
Il plunged like a mustang and there
rs much noise and confusion, but In
at bedroom 1t was still and very !
nelly. as the office had been while y
Iys slid by In magnificent, solitary Y
feat.
One evening. out Of oblivion. in the :.
ldst of his wealth. old John st. Clair
ddenly asked for piece"
piece of what. sir?" The nurse a
charge was matter-of-fact young II
imals without Imagination. p
Bread n butter said old John I
Clair. like little child.
SO, promptly. he had neat oblongs :.
bread, just the right size. just the ="
hit age. with just the proper amount :
butter. from which he turned away ',
evIshly. muttering Querulously. =
emily disappointed. Presently he .
pt strange, slow. hard tears. He .
ID he wanted to go home. Then, .
err long, long time, he whispered 9
nut bread and butter again. Last
all he blurted, "Marthy."
And after that there was no stop
z him. The art museum wasn't cl
,me." He wouldn't stay. So one al
my October day special train W
pit slowly through purple. pine S,
d gorges of the Blue Ridge noun