Coulee City dispatch. [volume] (Coulee City, Wash.) 19??-19??, 1925-04-10
Chapter I
A Man Cast Down.

Renshaw stopped at the entrance to
the grounds of the country house he.
was approaching and surveyed the
building with the detached expression
of baby that Is being kissed. Pre-
sumably. something agreeable was hap
pening to him, but he could not whip
up much interest in the episode. He
had arrived at Tawno Ker, the home Of
David Campbell, and, incidentally, his
own future home. In the absence Of
any conveyance, he had walked from
the station-a little matter of mile
and half-and he was more than
ready to set down his handbag and feel
sorry for himself and remove some of
the dust Of the road from his shoes
before he appeared to his new en-
ployer.
The fact that the employer did not
as yet realize that Renshaw was to be
his new employee did not disturb the
young man. Campbell would know
that soon enough. In the meantime
there was the place to be looked over.
Pokibly he, Renshaw, would not like
the place-in which case, of course, he
need not present himself to it's owner.
He took off his hat, however, and,
leaning languidly against stone pillar
Of the wide gateway, let the late Oc-
tober breeze cool his head. 1t was
strikingly well-shaped head, obviously
capable Of more interior work than it's
owner was now requiring of it. OF
late, Renshaw had lost interest in most
matters. For two years he had stood
outside of himself, watching the undi-
rected course of his existence.
He turned upon the driveway lead
ing to the old red brick house before
him pair of eyes that matched his
hair in color. They were very dark
brown eyes, almost black. Nature, in
giving them to him, had shown char
acteristic Indifference to the sufferings
of women. But 1t was long since Rem
shaw had turned those eyes on women
or, indeed, on anything else-with
other than the remote expression that
had become habitual to them.
With this expression he surveyed
guarded the driveway, like lines Of
footmen in gorgeous livery separating
to permit visitors to pass. lie really
must look at the place. Yes, he must.
He must decide whether or not he was
going into that house to see David
Campbell and work for him. He
dashed his will to the task, and his
will, like an unwilling horse, SHE'D and
side-stepped. He forced it to the eff
fort. He would look at the house, any
way-and then, an inner voice again
suggested, perhaps he wouldn't have
to 60 in.
1t was late in the afternoon, and the
autumnal twilight fell while he stood
there, hesitating. In the dim windows
of the house, lights began to twinkle,
like smiles in tired eyes. There was
something very soothing in the sight.
It suggested rest. With a long sigh,
Renshaw replaced his hat, casually
busted his shoes on the grass of the
roadside, and picked up the travelling
bag. He had decided to remain and
work for David Campbell.
| He made his way up the avenue,
sagging little under the weight of
the case, and, gratefully dropping the
latter on the broad veranda with
which an architect unbound by tradi
ton had embellished the front Of the
Colonial dwelling, he again hesitated,
with his finger on the button of the
electric bell. To press that button
meant to re-enter life. If he pressed
It, and some one came, he would be
committed to an interview, to explana-
lions, to the carrying out of plan
! the first plan he had formed in two
years. 1t had been very hard to make
that plant would be nothing short of
grilling to carry it through. Yet there
! was only one alternative-and this al