Americus times-recorder. [volume] (Americus, Ga.) 1891-current, 1925-08-05


In IFS time Ulysses x. Forgan
like many another man, had seen
many woman cry.
And the sight of tea1s had come
to have no more effect upon him
than the SOUND of laughter. The pass
ing years had made him hard-hard,
and cold as Bessemer steel.
His dead wife, Sarah, had always
cried when she wanted her own
way. His only daughter, Sally, had
always cried when she wanted her
own way. Ulysses was used to
tears. For thirty years his life had
been dampened by them.
But the weeping of the slim wo-
man who sat beside his desk at this
moment, was not like any other
weeping that Ulysses had ever wit
messed.
For one thing, MaI made no noise
when she cried. She did not, as
Ulysses put it to himself, "blubber'
Her nose did not swell. Her eyes
did not redden.
The tears simply rolled from them
down upon her ivory cheeks, and
her scarlet mouth trembIed. She
cried beautifully, dabbing her eyes
with a small handkerchief.
"There, therew Ulysses found him
self saying in the soothing tone a
father might have used to calm his
crying baby Don't cry. Don't
cry"
May drew a long sobbing breath
"All right" she faltered, 81 won't
-"
She raised her eyes to Ulysses in
an April smile. Then the smile fad
ed from her face, leaving it very
grave.
"You, Mr.. Forgan," she said, as
if a sudden, arresting thought had
! saw that the minute I laid eyes
on you. There I said to myself,
is a man of IRON"
Ulysses moved uncomfortably in
his swivel chair. 1t was years since
q woman had taken the trouble to
talk to him about himself to flatter
him.
cts true" he answered stiffly,
that life has made me more or less
stony, perhaps, Mrs. Seymour"
"No, no." May shook her head,
"Stones crumbies, sometimes. Iron
doesn't! You're iron! You wouldn't
care if people said cruel, scandalous
things about you. You'll wouldn't
feel it, would you? And GER
tainly you wouldn't be cowardly
enough to run away"
Ulysses took off his horn-rimmed
glasses, and looked sharply at May.
"Is that what you're doing? Run
ming away" he asked, as that why
you want to sell your house? So
you need never set foot in Ameri-
Gus again."
May nodded. She pressed her
handkerchief to her eyes, once more.
81 can't face them . the people
in this town." she sobbed. "You
probably know what they said when
my husband shot himself-that it
was because l was in love with JIM
my Carewe.
Tears choked her voice.
Ulysses leaned back in his chair,
frowning. Somehow or other, the
thought of this Mrs. Seymour hav-
ing an affair with Jim Carewe or
any other man was most disquieting
to him.
''No fool like an old foolW he re-
minded himself scornfully. But was
fifty so very old? Rather the peak
of life, wasn't it?
He looked down at his hands.
Hard, strong, calloused ones they
were tanned by many suns and
winds. Not the hands of an old
man, surely!
He pressed them with a quick,
downward movement on Mays
shoulders, for just an instant. He
heard the little gasp of surprise she
gave. But she said nothing.
There was a long silence in the
office, broken only by the sunny,
buzzing sound of blue-bottle fly
Ulysses got up, presently, and
walked over to the window. He
stood with his hands in his pockets,
looking down into the MONDAY bus
tie of Lamar street.
''Now, about your house, Mrs.
Seymour" he said in an ordinary
tone, pulling himself together. "Of
course, / can sell it, if you've really
made up your mind to get rid of it.
Although l think you're foolish not
to hang on to it, for while ="
He stopped abruptly, wheeled,
and sat down at his desk again,
Look here" he went on, "why do
YOU run away like this? Why don't
YOU stay right here in your own
town, and face all the talk and scan
dal? You've been away for q
year. Have you been happy all OF
that timer"
ooh, no. May gave tiny