The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1930-08-01
CHAPTER x
Will Has a Vision
10.

mad met and overcome one after an
other of their natural foes: Mr.. Poole's
.dleness and intemperance. By kind
Of fierce affection he had dominated
and controlled the old man and kept
aim working. The profits were d.
gided, after he had his fifty week,
and Poole his hundred. And out of
mis- share of the profits, Will repaid
his partner for the loan for Ernes-
:ine's hospital bill. He repaid him the
exact half of the amount Poole had
sunk into the business at the begin
ming.
And after two years he found him.
self face to face with the one enemy
he could not conquer. Ernestine no.
&iced that he grew thin and pale, that
fall that the baby, Elaine, was two.
"What is it, WHIP" she asked him.
Il thought everything was fine now"
"It's POOLE" said WILL Hes not
drawing-he's boozing, but, Of course,
that's not new. Only-he's lost in
terest."
"What do you mean, WHIP"
He seemed reluctant to put his
thought into crude words.
"He's failing-his health. His eyes
are bad"
"You mean-he's old?"
"Yes," said VIII. ''That's what
mean. He can't help it-poor devil
he struggles against it-but it's show
ing on him."
."But, Will, what are you doing?"
"Why, I'm managing-but that's all.
When I can get him to help, we work
together. We've got the strip all
planned out for another year, the gen.
.eraI sequence of things. But don't
feel that / can do Poole's stuff. My
own ideas would be different can
do the drawings well enough-nobody
would notice, probably-but-"
"You don't want to go on-without
him?"
1.-THE stuff is his, Ernestine. / don't
want to-there's something funda-
mentally wrong-even when I'm his
partner, and all. For while, as a
makeshift, can go ahead, and take
care of the mechanics of it, and do the
.conversation-Bu actually, we haven't
any business at all. We only have
him-and when he's gone"
Will sighed, and then squared his
shoulders.
"Well-here's hoping" he said, and
grinned at her. Il guess the old boat
will sail another season. You see
its hard for me to crowd him, Ernes-
tine. He is old, and his eyes are about
gone, and he hangs on me-it's like
making a sick old horse pull in the
harness-for us. OF course, it's for
him, too, but it Is really for us. We
are the ones that will enjoy the money
not him. 1 find myself soft with
him."
II know" She understood this ex-
actly, and her young face was troubled.
She was blooming again with beauty
and vitality. She had been lovely
bud but now she was in fiower-in her
middle twenties-young with beauty
and grace, but with poise now, too,
and a strong sense Of accomplish
ment. She had background now Of
new kind-not the background of
parents and school and a fine home,
but the background Of effort and self
control.
'.pll take Peter" she said. "You
can look after Elaine"
She was going to Lillian's, to see
mamma who was home from New
York for another visit.
Will watched the family away,
Elaine perched on his arm. Elaine
was happy with her father, and they
made a game Of supper. Now, at two,
she was beginning to be bonny baby.
They had had long struggle with her.
But at last her heart was beginning to
beat a rhythmic tune-a healthy or
gan instead Of an undeveloped heart
In an undeveloped body. 1t almost
seemed that they could breathe again.
After the little girl was sleeping
Will sat beside her, smoking and
watching her-dreaming those things a
father dreams for his little daughter.
The daylight was going, and the last
of the light seemed to gather in an
adolescence about the baby's face. Sud-
denly VIII was shot through with an
! emotion more powerful than anything
he had ever felt. For just an instant
the baby face seemed the only thing
in the world-the lashes down In a
smudge against her cheek-he saw not
flesh, but color-not bony structure,
but pure line-idea-
He stared at her, and saw not the
child but her picture. In that moment
he sensed the true identity of her be-
ing, as one hears in establishment clear
tone and harmony where there is no
sound. He was profoundly disturbed.
Why, he could paint her-this was new
this feeling; he had not felt like this
before, not even when he daubed so
constantly in colors as a child. He
had never felt this; he could paint
her; he knew that he could.
During the whole month of JAN
uary Mr. Poole did not draw a line.