Western news and the Libby times. [volume] (Libby, Mont.) 1920-1933, 1930-11-20

path.
And every morning he had to go
and make the cat cartoons. lie had
TO 20 from the Sun to the movie
studio. When he was longing to ex-
pertinent with this new conception.
He was ready to leave satire for a
new form Of beauty. He was ready to
establish new and modern school Of
work.
: Ii was not an unnatural develop
ment. Looking hack. 1t seemed TO
Ernestlne that the years had conspired
In order to accomplish this. She re-
membered the little boy with his leg
In a brace, who had made the book OF
bird pictures for her-a book she still
loved and possessed. and which she
had been showing to Peter only day
or two ago. VIII had so loved the
color OF wings.
She recalled the water colors on his
mothers walls. the smudged pictures
OF John Pryor when he was baby
crude but warm. She remembered
what Mrs. Todd had said-all the
neighbors thought VIII would be
great artist some day. II he were not
subjugated to her biological neces-
stiles!
Through the newspaper environment
and his hero worship OF John Poole
he had become a cartoonist. And he
hu har 1 ~,
struggle to accomplish that. But the
very things this success had brought
him bad been means Of releasing this
deeper, more sincere impulse The
comfort. the affluence. the sense OF
security. all had enabled him to begin
to give heed % another voice.
And VIII had thought In his sim
plicity that he could have secret
He had imagined that he could, In his
Idle hours, pursue this new. and de-
lightful gift Of artistry. He had ex-
perimented here alone with new tools,
new methods. and thought that no one
would ever know. Erncstine was
wiser She knew the consequences Of
activity, secret or open. This studio
was going to destroy the eats as GER
tainly as love destroys infatuation.
She stopped and brushed lightly
with her lips the charcoal image of
herself descending the stairs. She
locked the door and went away. her
lips firm her eyes glowing in her love
ly face.
Whenever you are ready. Will, l.
will be ready. too
But VIII did not seem to be ready.
He had changed. lie had become
silent, morose. irritable. There was
no question now as 10 where he was
spending his time, for he played bridge
hours every day. He won constantly,
Ernestine Kept him as clean of money
as she could, subvertlng all that she
could lay hands on 10 her own pur-
poses. She did not know how much
money he won at cards, but his mania
Was new thing. and she could not
understand 1t. One night at a dance
In the club to which he belonged she
saw him through the open door OF the
cardroom. sitting at a heavy round
table, his face absolutely set, his dark
eyes watchful, playing in an intense
absorption.
''How does he play?' she asked her
partner, friend OF VIII. 1--WE played
with him, OF course, but always with
women, and he seemed Indifferent
careless"
Il wish / could get him at table
when there were women there" the
man, q middle-aged illustrator, an
swered. HE has a great deal OF my
money. Why. he plays an extraordi-
narily good game, and every one likes
to play with him because he minds his
own business. He plays for study, but
he doesn't row. He makes no mis-
takes, but he doesn't jump on the
fellow who Does And cards Oh,
boy--he has them. He has an abso-
1utely marvellous memory"
Ernestine knew this. Wills memory
was part OF his equipment as an artist.
He would be able to visualize each
trick that had fallen, without error,
she knew. But she was troubled. She
understood the psychological use of
the word substitution and ii oc-
CURED to her in connection with VIII
at the bridge tables but she could not
get the thing clearly. Will was drug
ging himself with the mechanical occu-
patton OF cards. The cards interested
absorbed, fascinated him. The mes
meric fascination OF the game were
useful to him as means of stilling
Eomething-she could not quite get It,
She could not ask him whether he had |
ceased going to the little Office. She
felt baked and wounded.
One day when he telephoned that he |
would not eat at home, and came In |
after midnight, he flung down on the |
table roll Of bills.
I've been playing for ten cents
point. Won rubber after rubber" he
said indifrerently.
Ernestine picked up the money and
counted it.
This will pay for" she began, and
VIII exclaimed passloDately: