The Washington times., 1937-02-22

plexedly, "to send this fine young
woman out to cultivate acqualnt
ance with chap of that sort"
Nowhere you are!" declared
Sonia impreSsively. What sort OF
chap? Evidently the Dean knows
more about him than we do. And
has confidence in him."
cts very odd" Endicott studied
the fire for moment. How did
Phyllis happen to learn about this
this hobo? Run into him acci-
dentally out there?"
He had left his dog at the
house where she lives-a fine red
setter. She recognized the dog
Sylvia"
80" concluded Sonia, there
you are-PhylliS worrying her
heart out in little Wembleton-"
"Wembelton?" echoed Endicott.
securing his memory.
"Yes-just a little town .
And the young doctor she's in love
with is living the life Of a tramp
anu a 1lSIIIllO III q o4AdIh OAA wy
of Boone Mountain"
Boone Mountain!" he was shout
ing. Boone Mountain-By God!
I won't have him up there in
Boone Mountain! know all about
that shack on Boone Mountain!
It has cost the lives Of the three
finest psychologists in this coun-
try-men who deserved a better
death than a guinea pig in that
damned pest-hole! I won't have
him up there, I tell you!"
Sonia sat stupefied with amaze
ment.
rs there anything I can get for
you, Doctor?" she asked, thor
oughly frightened now. There was
no reply. Shall I ring, DR.. Endi-
cott?" she insisted, in an agitated
voice. do you want me to call
the MANI" She laid hand on his
sagging shoulder.
Sonia went back to the Statler
bewildered by conflicting emotions.
It had completely unnerved her.
It had been her hope to take
the 11:15 train home, but she de-
cided that the incredible event
must be reported to Phyllis without
delay.
Endicott had not stirred from
his supine slump in the red-leather
chair before the CRATE.
The hours events had left him
Speechless. He had postponed the
other operations scheduled for the
day and had gone home. Tomor-
row he would see Newell and re-
lieVe him of the blame he had vol
unteered to assume for his chiefs
sake. But Newell did not appear
at Parkway the next morning. A
rumor had it that he had left
town.
Doubtless the chap had been so
upset over the tragedy that he
wanted a day or two for recovery.
He would be back presently, and
their amicable relations could be
resumed. The days became weeks.
Nobody seemed to know anything
about NewelrS whereabouts. Well
he wouldn't stay away indef-
initely. One would have to wait
until the young fellow returned.
But-Boone Mountain had COM
pletely reappraised this miserable
situation. The young fellow he
had admired and loved from child
hood, and had counseled as a stu
dent, and promoted to a position
of distinction, was in danger OF
losing his life.
So he had confided in Harcourt
had he? Harcourt would prob
ably have contrived to get the
whole story out Of him. It was un.
likely that Newell would go there
for that purpose; but, once there,
the uncannily prescient Harcourt
would make short work Of his reti-
cence.
Endicott remembered that he
had whimSically asked the Dean
whether he really believed that hui
manity was being pushed en- masse
by some such irresistible urge as
the strange propulsion that occa-
sionally seizes and drives the un-
countable millions of little lem
mings across the plains of Sweden,
through the towns. over the noun
tains, and into the sea-and had
been suddenly sobered when the
man had stoutly declared, mo!
No! We are not driven from Be.
hind, but lured from Before! Not
pushed. but pulled! Magnetized
from Beyond!"
Could it be possible, reflected
Endicott. that his own moral col
lapse had been responsible for his
physical decline? Was it this ca
tastrophe that had been making an
old man of him in his prime, slow
ing his step, shortening his breath,
dulling his eye. deadening his
spirit? Could it be true-absurdly
paradoxical as it sounded-that
whoever tried to save his own life
would lose it?.
His hand trembled little as he
took up the pen, but it was the agi.
tation of conscious victory. His
eyes were misty as he wrote:
MY dear Boy"