The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1925-07-24

rotten vegetation at this house as If
ii were throwing riff-raff into the face
of an accused personality.
Parmalee did not answer her call.
He was not at the breakfast table
The servants could not find him in
his rooms. He was discovered finally
by his voice. which came in family
with the sound of the wind. Brena
without protection from the driving
rain ran out the great front door,
down the path which cut a diameter
in the circle of the driveway, to the
massive iron gate
Parmalee was there with his little
white hands grasping the upright bars
swaying backward and forward like
Gagged animal. staring out with wild,
red eyes, at the high shores of the
distant river bank seen through the
haze, his bare head wet and dishev-
eled.
Come and get me, d-n your eyes!"
he screamed. you've been waiting
long enough. Come and get me. I'm
not afraid of you ALL"
Brena looked over his shoulder up
and down the road beyond the gate.
Water was standing in the shallow
the wind, danced like 1.-THE devils
along he crest of the palisade. But
no living creature was in sight.
"You better come into the house,
Compton," she said with tone of
authority
She realized afterward that she had
leaped rather joyfully toward the con-
clusion that this moment explained
the menace which had hung over
them so long and that 1t promised a
definite end of her obligations. She
remembered of thinking how like an
angry, impotent little dog he was,
coward at heart, but barking behind
gate at an empty road. She be-
lieved he had lost his mind.
Come into the house." she repeated.
lie looked at her stupidity. his lower
jaw limp and hanging his eyes watery
and looking into her face with the
troubled expression of one trying to
discover the surroundings after loss
of consciousness.
"All right" he said hoarsely; I'm
all right, Brena."
He appeared weak, unable to carry
himself erect and his breath wheezed
unpleasantly as he followed her feebly
up the walk and the wet granite
steps or the frowning house
go upstairs and lie down." she
commanded.
He stopped with his hands on the
black walnut newell post of the stairs
and leaned toward her confidentially.
Footprints" said he, grinning like
fiend. Footprints"
Brena, opening the door Of his
library, walked rapidly toward the
telephone on his desk. At last she
had been driven to summon the aid,
counsel and authority of the world
beyond the doors of this damned
home. Parmalee was mad. But as
she put out her hand toward the tele-
phone instrument it knocked over an
empty glass. She raised this glass to
her nose. The supports of her heart
suddenly crumbled, for she knew then
that her husband was not mad. not
changed permanently from the crafty
secretive, self-isolated and haunted
man that he had been, but was only
at the end of a long night of trying
TO drink himself into the freedom of
insensibility.
AT this moment she wondered why
she did not feel a marked increase of
the old loathing and disgust that she
had been unable to weed out as it had
sprung up like some rank growth. At
this moment she remembered his first
appeal to her, how he had begged her
to help him win pack the clean spirit
of his boyhood, how she had once
seen the CLINT of that treasured some
thing. which men forget to keep, shin
ing dimly in the midst of decay, how,
having tasted the bitterness of sue
cess, he had built new hope. Now he
was grotesque failure, pounding to
pieces upon some unseen rock below
the surface of the waters He was
paying the account of a lifetime per-
haps; perhaps the reckoning of one
mistake. There surged up to the brim
in her heart great pity.
To Brena the cause of his panic. his
terror, his suspicious. his isolation,
the horrid exiled days he led, the
sleepless nights he spent now ap-
peared of less Importance than the
fact that no man was suffering more
than he. But she was unable to help
him: his defenses were now impreg-
nable.
81 do not know what you mean" he
said 1--WE live clean, wholesome
kind of existence, don't we? You
never hear complaints from me. ! do
not go out much, that is true. But
am working. do not sleep well.
Neither do many men. ] drank too
much .nce, that is true. But that was
thirty or forty days ago. You have
not seen me make the mistake again."
You are forever sending John down
for new bottle" said Brena.
He th.ust glance at her.
1T Gains me. My nerves are not
good-there's no denying. But why
should you complain, Brena? You
have your freedom. You go your own
ways. You conduct your own studies.
You can have anything you want for
the asking. Why complaint"
"I'm not complaining" she had said,
shutting her lips into firm line. II
am 'nquiring."
.Inquiring?" he said with sudden
heat. "Well, by Cd, if you ask once
too often-you shall know! TIL tell
you something about yourself you'll