The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1930-08-01

ana IOunu nlmSelI incapable OF much
arguing.
Early in February he said to Will
one day, "This Is my birthday"
ut is?"
"Yes-Tm sixty-fve-but I feel
ninety-five. Will, I'm through"
You're through"
"Yes; I'll never draw another line
can't work any more"
There was no questioning the sim
cerity of his tone. Will found himself
accepting this statement as true. Mr.,
Poole was through. 1t would be idle
to argue or to cajOle him.
"Well," he said after a little, this
is the end of Poole and Todd, then"
EYES," answered his partner heavily.
its the end"
After a few minutes of silence, viii
got up and began to pack away the
drawing boards, to sort out pencils,
rack up the stiff cardboard sketches
and set the office in order.
I'D like to go to Florida-where
it's warm" said Poole dreamily. 1--WE
been cold for months"
Will looked at him queerly. He felt
sad. The old man was, in his own
eyes, failure. He did not feel, nor
was he warmed by, the praise or the
recognition Of others. Long after
ward Will felt that in that moment
he had known the cold and clammy
breath of death. The death Of activity,
of hope; the yielding of some long
loved and never-forgotten dream.
Lets have a party at Pastano's to-
night. Mostane's in town-and Nc
Dermott would come. Do you think
Ernestine would be my guest-at Pas
tano's"
81 think so, John. Shed do most
anything for YOU"
"Ernestine"-the old man seemed to
wander-he paused long time, and
looked at Will with faint shining of
the old intelligence in his face. "Will,
put those id pasteboards down and
come here-I want to tell you some-
thing. 1t was Loring Hamilton that
had you fired from the Sun. He had
Visions affairs in his hands-they
were thicker than anyone knew, and
Wiston had reason to please Loring.
Wiston got tight one night and told it.
And lost his job for it. McDerm0tt
will be friendly to you, if you take any
work to him."
Don't worry about me, john"
"I'm not worrying, you young devil.
Il want to tell you, though, about Lor-
ing. Watch out for him. He's got
power now, in way. He's going to
London next year for Pastano. He's
the prince Of the bootleggers now.
Pastano is using him recklessly. He
doesn't give d-n for Loring-will
probably ruin him in the end. But
Pastano does care about you-and
about Ernestine."
"What Loring does is nothing to me-
Like most mean things, it worked out
for the best. mean-you can't do
a dirty trick as easily as you think.
I've come farther this way than if
had stayed on the Sum-"
The old man left to go and make
arrangements for his party, and viii,
after a brief telephone conversation
with Ernestine, pitched into the files.
1t was late afternoon when he went
home and as he went he was turning
over in his mind the possibilities for
the future. His enthusiasm had gripped
i1no Enunctinn xx,nf1Id IiIyo
this. But he could do well for him.
self. He could!
after ALL" he said to himself,
swinging along among the small tidy
houses, "after all, was in danger of
becoming a copyist. I've learned all
that Poole can teach me. It's time
for me to work alone-to develop my
own IDEAS"
Ernestine was dressing, and giving
instructions to the neighbor girl who
was to stay with the children.
"What do you think, Will? Shall
wear my red dress? l thought would
never go to Pastano's again. It's
years, though, since we went, and
don't mind going bit. Will, you
aren't listening to me. I've been so
vexed with Peter. He's had two whip
pings, and needed third. He's get
ting too big for me to spank any more.
wish you'd takesa little paddle to
him."
Will stood in amazement in the mid
die of the bedroom, his tie in his
hands, looking back at the bright reel
of memory-himself and Ernestine
walking on Clark street in a late snow