The Challis messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1912-current, 1924-12-17
PICTURE
THAT WON
THE PRIZE
BY GEORGE ELMER COBB
%. 1924. Western Nswspapsr Union,

went, stranger would have been
puzzled as to which Of the twain was
the sick man.
Yet for two weeks Adrian Nash had
lain unconscious In the little alcove
off the studio of his friend, and never
had brother been more faithful In
care, and nursing, and sacrifice.
well, now have good sleep"
spoke Stone with forced brlskness
and cheer. well begin new life in
the morning"
"All right. What time Is it?'
The hand Of the artist went mechan-
ically to his pocket. Then he flashed
In some embarrassment.
"Ranald!"
The sick man put out his thin, vast
ed hand. He grasped that of his
friend, who stood with averted face.
For my sake!" sobbed Adrian Nash
brokenly. "As bad as that? And the
antique clock that stood In the cor
ner?"
81 was afraid its ticking would dis
turb you"
|
| brokers'? Oh, Ranaldl Was ever such
friendl''
The speaker turned his face to the
wall, communing with his soul, aroused
to gratitude that overwhelmed him.
Ranald gloomily passed into the next
room. He sat down on a stool before
his easel and buried his face in his
hands.
The strain of a year of hard pro-
fessional struggling, Of lack Of work,
then deprivation, then the Illness of
his friend, was beginning to tell. He
had carried that friend through a
dangerous spell of sickness-but at
what a cost At that moment Stone
was a month behind in the rent of his
studio, not a cent in his pocket and
every article of personal value sold or
pledged to provide medical care for
poor Nash.
All gone save one-his picture, 1.-THE
Meadow" Ranald lifted his eyes to
the framed study hanging between
two windows, the masterpiece of his
efforts. 1t was simple sylvan scene
and fellow artists poor as himself had
told him 1t was a gem. Even the
pawnbroker around the corner, old ia
cob Levi, had seen It's beauties. He
had coveted it for a wedding present
to his daughter.
"YOu will starve before the art ex-
hibition comes on" he declared. Il
gif you fifty tollars for the picture
it is standing Offer"
With scorn Ranald had repudiated |
the proffer. With pride he realized |
that when the critics, the public, came
to see his picture on exhibition it
would at least signalize artistic recog-
milton.
But now-tIe gloomy future seemed
to express one practical word-BreadI
The Golfers were empty. With the
there must be food for Nash,
the room rent must be paid.
Tap! tap! tapl
Daintily, as at the touch of YER
table fairy, the gentle but peremptory
summons sounded. Ranald went to
the door and opened it. He passed his
hand over his eyes then, dazzled at
HE lovely visitant
Its only me, Mr.. Stone," spoke
notes of liquid sweetness. 'You re-
member meat the art institute? I
nave a room and studio on the next
1oor was directed here because the
lrawing professor said this was the
lbode of true genius and among its
|
nosphere. Oh, dear!"
The ingenious little lady stood gaz-
ng- raptly at the picture between the
The tears came to the eyes
# the artist. 1t was homage so soul
ul, so refreshing to his tired spirit
'"Thank you," he said huskily.
"And will you do me a great favor,
Ir. Stone?' pleaded Miss Ethel War
er at will take only few mo-
nents. In my studio. Just to show
lie how to mix some colors."
Certainly, with pleasure" respond
d Ranald, and he tried to hide the
aged sleeve of his worn coat.
The light, the comfort the luxury of
he little palace Of studio into which
fiss Warner ushered Ranald and in
reduced him to her chaperon, her
unit, formed q marked contrast to the
leak den he had just left. The fasci- !
alton of the soulful girl artist, how t
yer, made him obliging, even ardent t
l awarding the assistance she re- ]
uired. Upon stand stood her model {
server a loaf of bread part of I
axe, some flowers, composite for q
test piece as to cooring. t
81 can't get the shade on that bread Q
ny more than could l bake it," $
lughed Ethel merrily, and then when Q
anald had shown her how to produce I
re effect desired, she looked up into I
Is eyes with a gratitude that thrilled
I'm.
The influence Of that lovely face re-
Iained with him as he sat In his a
.udio later thinking Of the brightness
Is life knew little Of Then from the n
cove, deak and querulous- Il
"Ranald, old man, I'm hungry. I'm Fl
, hungry can't Sleep"