Evening star., 1924-09-28

of q baking week. CoateSworth
was Notwithstanding had overtired
herself and was paying for 1t by vio-
| lent sick headaches, and business
seemed to have come to an apathetic
| standstill. That morning he had been
SO irritated with Miss Clancy that she
had looked at him in surprise. He had
| Immediately apologized, wishing i'm
mediately afterward that he hadn't
He was working at high speed
through this heat-why shouldn't
she?
She came to his door now and
he looked up family frowning.
| 'Mr. Edward Lacy"
| "All right" he answered listlessly
| Old man Iacy-he knew him slightly.
a melancholy fgure-a brilliant start
back in the eighties, and now one of
the city.s failures. He couldn't i'm
agine what Lacy wanted.
I Good afternoon, Mr.. Coatesworth."
| "A little, solemn. gray-haired man
stood on the threshold. Coatesworth
rose and greeted him politely.
| Are you busy?'
well, not so very" He stressed
the qualifying word slightly.
| Mr.. Lacy sat down, obviously I'll
at ease. He kept his hat in his hand
and chung to it tightly as he began
to speak.
| ''Mr. Coatesworth, If you've got five
minutes to spare I'm going to tell
you something that-that | find at
| present it's necessary for me to tell
you
| Coatesworth nodded.
| you see" went on Mr.. Lacy
Coatesworth noticed that the hands
which fingered at the hat were trem-
father and 1 were good friends.
You've heard him speak of me, no
doubt"
| Coatesworth nodded.
Il was asked to be one OF the pail
| bearers Once we were-very close.
It's because of that that / come to
you now. Never before in my life
| have l ever had to come to any one
as I've come to you now, Mr.. Coates
worth-come to stranger. But as
you grow older your friends die or
| move away or some misunderstand-
ing separates you And your chill
| dren die unless you're fortunate
| enough to go first-and pretty soon
| you get to be alone, so that you don't
| have any friends at all. You're
| isolated" He smiled family. His
hands were trembling violently now
Once upon a time almost forty
| years ago your father came to me
and asked me for $1,000 1 was a
i'" gear OiutT llRiil He was ana
| though ! knew him only slightly
| had high opinion of him That was
| lot of money in those days and he
| had no Security-he had nothing but
plan in his head-Ebut ] liked the
way he had OF looking out of his
eyes-you'1l pardon me if 1 say You
| look not unlike him-so I gave 1t to
| him without security"
Mr.. Lacy paused.
Without security" he repeated
Il could afford it then. / didn't lose
| by it He paid it back with interest
at per cent before the year was up"
Coatesworth was looking down at
his blotter, tapping out a series of
| trlangles with his pencil. He knew
| what was coming now and his mus
| cles physically frightened as he mus
| tered his forces for the refusal he
| knew he would have to make.
I'm now an old man. Mr.. Coates
! worth" the cracked voice went on.
I've made failure-I am a failure
| only we needn't go into that now.
| have a daughter, an unmarried
| daughter who lives with me. She does
StenoSraphic work and has been very
KIND to me. We live together, YOU
know, on Selby avenue-we have an
| apartment, quite a nice apartment"
The old man sighed quaveringly.
He was trying-and at the same time
was afraid-to get to his request.
| 1t was an insurance, it seemed He
| had a $4,000 policy and he had bor-
| rowed on it up to the limit and to
make long story short he stood to
| lose the whole amount unless he
could raise $3.50. He and his daugh-
ter had about S75 between them
that was all. They had no friends
he had explained that-and they had
found it impossible to raise the
! money.
Coatesworth could stand the mis-
cradle story no longer. He could not
| spare the money but he could at
least relieve the old man of the blis-
tered agony of asking for it.
| I'm sorry, Mr.. Lacy" he interrupt
| ed as gently as possible, but L can't
| lend you that mony."
| MOP The old man looked at him
with faded. blinking eyes that were
beyond all shock: almost. it seem ed,
beyond any human emotion except
| ceaseleSS care.
| Coatesworth fixed his eyes deter
minately upon his blotter.
| We're going to have a baby in a
| rev months and it wouldn't be fair
| to my wife to take anything from
her-or the child-rght now
| His voice sank to a sort of humble.
He found himself saying something
about business being bad-saying it
with revolving facility.
Mr.. Lacy made no argument He
rose without visible signs of disap-
pointment. Only his hands were stiIl
| trembling and they worried Coates
| worth. The old man was apologetic
he was sorry to have bothered Mr..
| Coatesworth at a time like this.
| AS he left the office he had trouble
L nY nj I'M ha
helped him.
Jim Coatesworth stood by his desk
F; and put his hand oveE-his face and
shivered suddenly, as if he were
cold. But the o'clock air outside
was hot as a tropic noon.
i. x x y
| THE twilight was hotter still, an
hour later, as he stood at the
corner waiting for his car. The troll
| ley ride to his house was 25 minutes
and he bought a pink -jacketed news
| paper to Appetite his tired mind. Life
had seemed less happy, less CLAM
| oorous of late. Perhaps he had larned
| more of the worlds ways-perhaps
! it's glamour was evaporationS little by
| little with the hurried years.
Nothing like this afternoon, for
| instance, had ever happened to him
before. He could not dismiss the old
man from his mind. He pictured him
plodding home in the weary heat;
on foot, probably, to save carfare;
opening the door of a hot little fiat,
and confessing to his daughter that
| the son of his friend had not been
able to help him out. All evening
they would plan helplessly until they
said goodnight to each other-father
and daughter, isolated by chance in
| this world-and went to lie awake
| with a pathetic loneliness in their
two beds.