Carolina watchman. [volume] (Salisbury, N.C.) 1871-1937, 1932-09-02
TENTH INSTALLMENT

TENTH INSTALLMENT
MI. Gilbert is coming back to
town and is bringing Mr.. Breen,"
Jules announced to Josephine, in bed
with her toast and coffee.
John had been at the Van Horn
home for ten days. He looked re-
markably well. His lounge suit,
from Van Horns tailor, fitted him
as clothes had never fitted him before.
"You can pay me back when you
get out on the job" Van Horn ar
ranged the matter easily. John Breen,
apparently without an effort or a
thought about the matter, slipped
into the mood of his new environ
ment. He was perfectly natural,
natural in a way men are natural and
simple behind the bar of a Bowery
saloon. John, without knowing it,
practiced the ultimate in correct be-
havior; he was completely at his ease,
as he saw no reason to be otherwise.
Josephine, after John evidenced no
awkward signs of stage fright. and
seemed endowed with an inherent
gentleness, went to remarkable leng-
tbs in the process of his further edu-
cation. He held her naturally, skill
fully, and picked up the latest dance
steps with astonishing facility. She
took him to the exclusive Desdemona
Dances at the St. Botolph. John was
accepted everywhere through the In
PRODUCTION of Van Horn.
Johns period of rest had come to
close. His last day had been strange
ly quiet. His nerves were no longer
on edge, but in the depth of his being
he felt a sinking sensation of loss. Oh
curse John Breen was more than
merely interested in Josephine.
Returning from Pagliacci alon'
with Josephine one evening the Cal
jolted as they swung acros Forty
second Street, and Josephine uttered
a startled "Oh!" as they skidded OF
the slippery street when brought tt
a sudden stop behind a jam, a Blu
having blocked the crazy, unregulat
ed traffic just as it started movin.
swiftly northward. Josephine wa
thrown against John. His arm stead
led her. Her long glove was off: b
She rested against him, her cloak open
at the throat, her bare shoulder ben
cath his eyes, in the pale light from
the arc lamps across the avenue.
Neither spoke. Their breathing was
intense. An impulse held them, the
wild melody of the moment before
seemed to reverbetrate through their
minds. The scent of her hair, the
compelling thrill of contact, swayed
them on a crest of emotion. John
pressed her to him with sudden rud-
eness, kissing her. Josephine, her eyes
closed, did more than just receive the
imprint of his lips.
The car slid to stop before the
house in the middle Fifties. They sat
bolt upright. Both were wiser than
before.
Back in the dormitory John ar
ranged his work in a methodical way,
looked through his books as if coming
back to old friends, filled his favorite
pipe from his dry tobacco in the
humidor, looked out of the window
over the roofs of Hadlem, looked at
himself in the mirror and smiled.
Well, after all, he had a great prize
ahead of him in the mighty City of
New York. On his chifonier was
the likeness Of Josephine; in decollete
and with a rose in her hair. Visitors
to his room would glance at it ap-
~provingly. Malone and Harboard
were there.
"a kick goes further than a kiss,
when you're arguin' with a jackass."
Malone swung a polished boot, one
leg over the study table in Johns
oom. Harboard was in the big chair
by the window and John sat on the
couch. "That kid there needed a
kick, an you give it to him, good an
hard" They were holding a post NOR
TEN Johns breakdown, and his
almost immediate recovery. The city
had simply Aoored him for a few
counts and he was again on his feet,
better than ever. "What John needs
is strong medicine. I've trained
him, tended bar long side of him,
seen him dive in after learnin" seen
him follow it like a bloodhound; yes,
an stick, Barboard, stick at it night
after night, diggin' on courses an
stufin himself with grammer, hist'ry
an 'rithmetick, an readin' the CUTS
out of big books, like he was trying
to find out somethin' irregular. His