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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Times, 1913-07-24, Page 7THE WINGIIAM TIMES, JULY 24 1913 THE LION AND THE MOUSE. 11.8081ONTENI 11.811188.1848. By CHARLES KLEIN. •• if Story of //merlon Life Novelized From the Play by 4RTHUR .HORNBLOW. COPYRIGHT, 1906, 13Y G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY. your father is? No, I woufdn't marry the son of such a merciless tyrant! He 1 refuses to lift his voice to save my fa- ' they. I refuse to marry his son!" She turned on Ryder with all the 1fury of a tiger: "You think if you lived in the olden days you'd be a Caesar or an Alexan- der. But you wouldn't! You'd be a Nero—a Nero! Sink my self respect to the extent of marrying into your fam- ily!" she exclaimed contemptuously. "Never! I am going to Washington without your aid. I am going to save my father if I have to go on my knees to every United States senator. I'll go .. to the White House; I'll tell the presi- dent what you are! Marry your sou— no, thank you! No, thank you!" Exhausted by the vehemence of her passionate outburst, Shirley hurried from the roost, leaving Ryder speech- less, staring at his son. CHAPTER XVI. IIEN Shirley reached her reforms she broke down completely. She threw her- self epee u sofa and burst into a fit cf violent sobbiug. After all, she was only a woman, and the •ordeal through which she had passed would have taxed the strongest pow- ers of endurance. She had borne up •courageously while there remained the faintest chance that she might succeed in moving the financier to pity, but now that all hopes in that direction were shattered and sbe herself had been ordered harshly from the house, like ung ordinary malefactor, the re - :action set in, and she gave way freely to her long pent-up anguish and dis- tress. Nothing now could save her father, not even this journey to Wash- ington which she determined to take nevertheless; for, according to what Stott had said, the senate was to take et vote that very eight. She looked at the time -11 o'clock. She had told Mr. Ryder that she would t , leave his house at once, but on reftec- tion it was impossible for a girl alone to seek a room at that hour. It would be midnight before she could get her things packed. No, she would stay (n - der this hated root until morning and then take the first train to Washing- ton. There was still a chance that the vote might be delayed, in which case •she might yet succeed lu winning over :some of the senators. She began to gather her thkigs together and was thus engaged when she heard a knock -at her door. - "Who's there?" she called out. Ake "It's I," replied a familiar voice. Shirley went to the door and opening it found Jefferson on the threshold. He mode no attempt to enter, nor did •she invite him •m. He looked tired .and careworn. "Of course, you're not going to- night?' he asked.anxiously. "My fa- ther did not mean to -night." "No, Jeff," she said wearily; "not to- night. It's a little too late. I did not realize it Tomorrow morning, early." He seemed reassured and held out his hand. "Good night, dearest. You're a brave girl. You made a splendid fight" "It didn't do much good," she replied in a disheartened, listless way. "But it set bim thinking," rejoined .Jefferson. "No one ever spoke to my :father like that before. It . did him )good. He's still marching up and down the library, chewing the cud"— Noticing Shirley's tired face and her •eyes, with great black circles under- .heath, Iie stopped short. - "Now, don't do any more packing to- might," he said. "Go to bed, and in the orning I'll come up and help you. Good night!" "Good night, Jeff," she smiled. , He 'went downstairs, and after doing tome more packing she went to bed. ;Rut it eves hours before she got to ;steep, and then she dreamed that she :was, in. the senate chamber eased that sehe• sato Ryder suddenly rise and de- lttounce himself before the astonished ='senators as a perjurer and traitor to ,lttis country, while she returned to Mas- eapequa with the glad uews -that her Ytather Wes itequItt tl. Meantime 5 solitary figure remained lin the library, pacing to,agd fro idle. a ost soul in purgatory. Mrs. Ryder "land returned from the play and gone ,ito bed, serenely oblivious of the drama 4n- real life that had—.been beenacted at ~ome TI1e,-lsepi'Ants l000 the house 4 The night, and ` stili' -John Burkett r der walked. the8rdt h1s aaC itl. d late into the small honk's 'of the coning 4the watchman going his.,J,one- rotsnds,,iEew:a.�il.ght In 10 )tbr*Ey ;pard the restless figure of his employer harply silhouetted against the',cWlltte blinds, . , For the first time In his life .John yder realized that them was saint- ing in the Wood beyond self. He d seen with its oven ekes the'Atri- a daughter will make for the fa- er abe:,lgves, and he, afeked le ' f at ;i!te951ner of ets man t uld no to ,in ire-* ilevotonttr It ild. He probed -Int1 `bid own 'heart d conscience and reviewed his past ifl@6reer. He had been ,; b;neMenaily i neeesbful, but he hnd not been happy. are had IOW Money than he knelt' 141nbat to do With, but the pleasures of the domestic circle, which he saw oth- er men enjoy, had been denied to him. Was he himself to blame? Had his insensate craving for gold and power led him to neglect those other things in life which. contribute more truly to man's happiness? In other words, was kis life a mistake? Yes, it was true ' what this girl charged—he had been :iaeglttert f Judge Rossmore?" t - manded Shirley, It had been a shock to Mrs. Ryde , that morning when Jefferson burs into his mother's room before she was up and acquainted her with the events of the previous eveniug. The news that the Miss Green whom she had grown to love was really the Miss Rossmore of whose relations with Jef her husband stood in sue bread was far from affecting the financier's wife as it had Ryder him self. To the mother's simple and in genuous mind, free from prejudice and ulterior motive, the girl's character was more important than her name, and certainly she could not blame be1� son for loving such c a woman as ir- g Sh Ie f 0 course itwas u Y unfortunate or f Jefferson that his father felt this bit- terness toward Judge Rossmore, for she herself could hardly have wished for a more sympathetic daughter-in- law. Site had not seen her husband since the previous evening at dinner, 80 was In complete ignorance as . to what he thought of this mew develop - went, but the mother sighed as she thought how happy it would make her to see Jefff•rson happily married to tare girl of his own choice, and in her heart she still entertained the hope that her husband would see it that way and thus prevent their son from leaving them as he threatened. "That's not your. fault, my dear," she replied, answering Shirley's question. "You are yourself, that's the main thing.. You mustn't mind what Mr. Ryder says. Business and worry make him irritable at times. If you must go, of course you must; you are the best judge of that, but Jefferson wants to see you before you leave." She kissed Shirley in motherly fashion and added: "He has told me every- thing, dear. Nothing would make me happier than to see you become his wife. He's downstairs now waiting for me to tell him to come up." "It's better that I should not see him," replied Shirley slowly and grave- ly. ""I can only tell him what I have already told him. My father comes first I have still a duty to perform." "That's right, dear," answered Mrs. Ryder. "You're a good, noble girl, and I admire you all the more for it. I'll let Jefferson be Itis own advocate. You'll see him for my sake!" Sho gave Shirley another affection- ate embrace and left the room, while the girl proceeded with her final prep- arations for departure. Presently there was a quick, heavy step in the corri- dor outside and Jefferson appeared in the doorway. He stood there waiting for her to invite him in. She looked up and greeted him cordially, yet it was hardly the kind of reception he looked for or that he considered he had a right to expect. He advanced sulkily into the room. "Mother said she had put everything right," he began. "I guess she was mistaken." "Your mother does not understand, neither do you," she replied seriously. "Nothing can be put right until my father is restored to honor and posi- tion." "But why should you punish me be- cause my father fails to regard the matter as we do?" demanded Jeffer- son rebelliously. "Why should I punish myself—why .should we punish those nearest and dearest?' answered Shirley gently. "The victims of human injustice al- ways suffer where their loved ones are tortured. Why are things as they are? I don't know. I know they are—that's all." The young man strode nervously up and down the room, while she gazed listlessly out of the window, looking for the cab that was to carry her away from this house of disappoint- ment. He pleaded with her: "I have tried honorably and failed. You have tried honorably and) failed. Isn't the sting of impotent failure enough to meet without striving against a hopeless love?" He ap- proached her and said softly: "I love you, Shirley—don't drive me to des- peration. Must I be punished because you have failed? It's unfair. The sins of the fathers should not be visit- ed upon the children." "But they are—it's the law," said Shirley, with resignation. "The law?" he echoed. "Yes, the law," insisted the girl; "man's law, not God's, the same un- just law that punishes my father— man's law which is put into the hands of the powerful of the earth to strike at the weak." She sank into a chair and, covering up her face, wept bitterly. Between her sobs she cried brokenly: ""I believed in the power of love to soften your father's heart, I believed that with God's help I could bring him to see the truth. I believed that truth and love would make him see the light, but it hasn't. I stayed on and on, hop- ing against hope until the time has gone by and it's too late to save him— too late! What can I do now? MY go. Ing to Washington is a forlorn hope, a last, miserable, forlorn hope, and in thls hour, the darkest of all, you ask me to think of myself—my love, your love, your happiness, your future, my future! Ah, wouldn't it be sublime doltishness?" Jefferson kneeled down beside the chair and, taking her band in hie, tried to reason with her and comfort her,. "Listen, Shirley," he said; "do not do something you will surely regret: ,You are punishing me not only.. because T have failed, but because yottbave, tail- ed too. It seems to me that jf you be- lieved it possible to accomplish so much, if ydu ked so meth faith -that you have lost your faith rather quickly. I believed in nothing, I had no faith, and yet I have not lost hope." She shook her head and gently with- drew her hand. "It is useless to insist, Jefferson. 'Until my tether is cleared of this stain our Needy -yours 'and mine -must lie F17a1t." (Some one embed, and, startled, they both looked up. Mr. Ryder had entered r the room unobserved and stood watch - t !ng them. Shirley immediately rose to her feet Indignant, resenting this 1a - trusion on her privacy after she had declined to receive the financier. Yet, she reflected quickly, bow could she prevent it? He was at home, free to f- come and go as he pleased, but she t' was not compelled to remain in the same room with hint. She picked up - the few things that lay about and, with a contemptuous toss of her head, re- treated into the inner apartment, leav- ing father and son alone together. "Hum," grunted Ryder senior. "I rather thought I should find you here, but I didn't quite expect to find you on your knees—dragging our pride in the nmol." "That's where our pride ought to be," retorted Jefferson savagely. He felt in the humor to say anything, no matter what the consequences. "So she bas refused you again, eh?" said Ryder senior, with a grin. "Yes," rejoined Jefferson, with grow- ing irritation. "She objects to my family. I don't blame her," The financier smiled grimly as be an- swered: ' "Your family in general—me in par- ticular, eh? I gleaned that much when I came in." He looked toward the door of the room in which Shirley bel taken refuge, and, as if talking to himself, be added: "A curious girl with an invert- ed point of view; sees everything dif- ferent to others. I want to see her be- fore she goes." IIe walked over to tbe door and rais- ed his hand ns if he were about to knock. Then he stopped as if he had changed his mind, and, turning toward his son, he demanded: "Do you mean to say that she has done with you?" "Yes," answered Jefferson bitterly. "Finally?" "Yes, finally—forever!" "Does she mean It?" asked Ryder senior skeptically. "Yes; she will not listen to me while her father is still in peril." There was an expression of half amusement, half admiration, on the financier's face as he :main turned to- ward the door. "It's like her, just like her," he mut- tered. Ile knocked boldly at the door. "Who's there?" r:ried Shirley from within. "It Is I—Mr. Ryder. I wish to speak to you." "I must beg you to excuse me," came the answer. "I cannot see you." Jefferson interfered. "Why do you want to add to the girl's misery? Don't you think she has suffered enough?" "Do you know what she has done?" said Ryder, with pretended indigna- Imerciless and unscrupulous in his deal- ings with his fellow man. It was true that hardly a dollar of his vast fortune had been honestly earned. It was true i that it had been wrung from the peo- ple by fraud and trickery. He had craved for power, yet now he had test - 1 ed it, what a hollow joy it was, after all! The public hated and despised him. Even his so called friends and business associates toadied to him merely because they feared him. And this judge—this father he bad perse- cuted and ruined—what a better man and citizen he was! How much more worthy of a child's love and of the es- teem of the world! What had Judge Rossmore done, aft- er all, to deserve the frightful punish- ment the amalgamated interests had caused Jim to suffer? If he had block - 'ad' their game he had done only what his oath, his duty, commanded him to do. Such a girl as Shirley Rossmore could not have had any other kind of a father. Ah, if be had had such a daughter he might have been a better man, if only to win his child's respect and affection. John Ryder pondered long and deeply, and the more he ruminated the stronger the conviction grew upon him that the girl was right and he was wrong. Suddenly he look- ed at his watch. It was 1 o'clock. Roberts had told him that It would be au all night session and that a vote would probably not be taken nail very late. He unhooked the telephone and, calling "central," asked for. "long dis- tance" and connection with Washing - to n. It was 7 o'clock when the maid en- tered Shirley's room with her break- fast, and she fouud its occupant up and dressed. "Why, you haven't been to. bed, miss!" exclaimed the girl, looking at the bed in the inner room, which seem- ed scarcely disturbed. "No, Theresa, I—I couldn't sleep." Hastily pouring out a cup of tea, she added: "I must catch that 0 o'clock train to 'Washington. 1 didn't finish packing until nearly 3." "Can I do anything for you, miss?" inquired the maid. Shirley was as popular with the servants as with the rest of the household. "No," answered Shirley, "there are only a few things to go in my suit case. Will you please have a cab here in half an hour?' The maid was about to go when she suddenly thought of something she kad forgotten. She held out ,an en- velope which she had left lying on the ray. "Oh, miss, Mr. Jorkins said to give you this and master wanted to. see you as soon as you hhd.thiished your break- iast" Shirley tore open the enl•elope and took .out ,the contents. It was, a cheek, payable 'to her order for 45,000 and signed "John Burkett Ryder." A :deep flush covered the girl's face 48 she saw the money—a flush of an- Royance rather than of pleasure. This Man who ,icad insulted her, who had wronged her father, who had driven her from his baize, thought he could throW his gold at her and insolently 'tend her her pay ns one settles haughti- ly with a ser6iiht discharged for im- pertinence. She would have none of bis money-tbo work .sbe had done she would make him a present of. She re- placed the check in the envelope and passed it back to Theresa. "Give this to Mr. Ryder and tell hint 1 cannot see him." "Rut Mr. Ryder said"— insisted the girl. "Please deliver my message as I give It," commanded Shirley with authority. "i cannot ace Mr. Ryder." The maid withdrew, but she hail barely closed the door when it was opened again and Mrs. Ryder rushed he without knocking. She was alt tius- tered with excitement and in such a burry that she had not even stopped to arrange her toilet. ."My dear :hiss Green," she gasped, "what's this 1 hear—going away sud- denly without giving me warning?" "I wasn't engaged by the month," replied Shirley dryly, "I kugw. dear. I know. i wars think- ing of tnyseif. I've grown so used to you--drn shall 1 get on without you? No 0110 understands rue the way you do. 1)ear rue! The }whole house is up - net. Mr, Ryder never went to beat at nit hist night. Jefferson is going away, too -forever, he threatens. If lie hadn't coni0 and woke ne E) 19 say goodby. 1 should never have known ,volt intend- ed to leave us. My boy's gmc,---you're going --every one's deserting me!" Mrs. Iiyder was n.)t ttcenstoned to such prolonged flights of oratory, and she sunk exhausted on n chair, her eyes filling with tears. "D•d they tell you who 1 am—ths. "It is usciess to insist, Jefferson." tion. "She has insulted me grossly. I never was so humiliated !n my life. She has returned the check 1 sent her last night in payment for her work on my biography. I mean to make her take that money. It's hers. She needs it. Her father's a beggar. She must take it back. It's only flaunting her contempt for me in nay face, and I won't permit it." "I don't think her object in refusing that money was to tinnut contempt to your face or in any way humiliate you," answered Jefferson, t'Shc feels she has been sailing under false colors and desires to make some reparation." "And so she sends 111e back my mon- ey, feeling that will pacify Inc. per- haps repair the Injury she has done me. perhaps buy me into entering into ler plan of helping her father, but it won't. It ouly increases my determina- tion to sec her and her"— Suddenly otuili,ing the topic, he asked, "When do you leave us?" "Now—at once --that Is, 1—don't know," answered Jefferson, embar- rassed. "The fact is my faculties are numbed. t sects to have lost my pow- er of blinking. Esther," he exclaimed, "you see what n wreck you have made of our lives!" "Now. don't moralize," replied his Whet testily, "as if your own selfish- ness hi desiring to possess that girl wasn't the meinsprbig of all your ac- tions." Waving his son out of the roam, he added: "Now, leave me alone with her for n few moments. Perhaps i eau make her listen to reason." Jefferson stared at his father as if he feared he were out of his mind. "Whet do you menu? Are you"-- he I'jaeulated. "Go --go; leave her to me," command - e1 the financier. "Slant the door when you go out, and she'll think we've both atone. 'then come up again presently." The stratagem succeeded admirably. Jefferson gave the door a vigorous null, and John Ryder stood quiet, wait- ing for the gh'i to emerge from sanetu- ere. He did not have to wait long. The door soon opened, and Shirley t came out slowly. She had her hat or and Was drawing on her gloved, for through her window she bad caught a glimpse of tho cab standing at the curb. She started on seeing Ryder 'deeding there- motionless, and sbe would have retreated had he not inter- cet•, "'Ipted wishheto speak to you, Miss—Ross- more," he began. "I have nothing to say," answered Shirley frigidly. "Why did you do this?" he asked, holding out the check. "Because 1 (10 not want your money," she replied, with hauteur. "it teas yours. You earned 1t," he said. No. I came here hoping to influence you to help my father. The work 1 did was s part of the plan. It happened to fall my way, 1 took it as It means to get to your heart." "But it is yours. Please take it. It will be useful." "No," she said scornfully. "1 can't tell you how low 1 should fall in my own estimation if 1 took your money. Money," she added. with ringing con- tempt, "why, that's all there is to you! It's your god! Shall 1 make your god my god? No, thank you, Mr. Ryder!" "Am I as bad as that?" he asked wistfully, "You are as bad 118 that!" she an- swered decisively. "So bad that 1 contaminate even good money?" He spoke lightly, but she noticed that be winced. "Money itself is nothing," replied the girl. "It's the spirit that gives it, the spirit that receives it, the spirit that earns it, the spirit that spends it Money helps to create happiness. It also creates misery. It's an engine of destruction when not properly used. It destroys individuals as it does nations. It bas destroyed you, for it has warp- ed your soul." "Go on," he laughed bitterly. "I like to hear you." "No, you don't, Mr. Ryder; no you don't, for deep down In your heart you knew that I am speaking the truth. Money and the power it gives you has dried up the wellsprings of your heart." He affected to be highly ainused at her words, but behind the mask of cal- lous indifference the man suffered. Hee words seared him as with a redhot iron. She went on: "Iu the barbaric ages they fought for possession, but they fought openly. The feudal barons fought for what they stole, but it was a fair fight. They didn't strike in the dark. At least they gave a man a chance for bis life. But when you modern barons of industry don't Pike legislation you destroy it, when you don't like your judges you remove them, when a competitor out- bids you you squeeze hint out of com- mercial existence! You have no hearts, you are machines, and you are cow- ards, for you fight unfairly." "It is not true; it is not true," he pro- tested. "It is true," she insisted hotly. "A. few hours ago lu cold blood you doom- ed my father to what is certain deaitit because you decided it was a political necessity. In other words, he inter- fered with your personal interests— your financial interests—you, with so manly millions you can't count then!" Scornfully she added: "Come out into the light—fight in the open! At least let bim know who his enemy is!" "Stop! Stop! Not another word!" be cried impatiently. "You have diagnos- ed the disease. What of the remedy? Are you prepared to reconstruct hu- man nature?" Confronting each other, their• eyes met, and he regarded her without re- sentment, almost with tenderness. Iie felt strangely drawn toward this wom- an who had defied and accused him and made bim see tbe world In a new light. "I don't deny," be admitted reluct- antly, "that things seem to be as you describe them, but it is part of the process of evolution." "No," she protested; "it is the work of God!" "It is evolution!" he insisted. "Ab, that's It," she retorted; "you evolve new ideas, new schemes, new tricks—you all worship different gods —gods of your own making." He was about to reply when there was a commotion at the door, and Theresa entered, followed by a man- servant to carry down the trunk. "The cab is downstairs, miss," said the maid. Ryder waved them away imperious- ly. He had something further to say which he did not care for servants to hear. Theresa and the man precipitate- ly withdrew, not understanding, but obeying with alacrity a master who never brooked delay in the execution of his orders. Shirley, indignant, look- ed to him for an explanation. "You don't need them," he exclaimed, with a quiet smile in which was a shade of embarrassment "I—I came here to tell you that I"— IIe stopped as if unable to find words, while Shir- ley gazed at him in utter astonishment "Ah," he went on finally, "you have made it very bard for me to speak." Again he paused and then with an ef- fort he said slowly: "An hour ago I had Senator Roberts ori the long dis- tnnee telephone, and I'm going to Washington. It's all right about your father. The matter will be dropped. You've beaten me. I acknowledge .lt: You're the first living soul who ever Inas beaten John Burkett Ryder;" Shirley started forward With a ery of singled joy and surprise. Could she believe her eats? Was it possible that the dreaded Colossus had capitu- lated and that she bad saved her fa- ther? Ilad the forces of right and jus- tice prevailed after all? Her face transfigured, radiant, she exclaimed breathlessly: "What, Mr. Ryder, you mean that you are going to help my father?" "Not for his sake, for ,yenta," be an- swered frankly. Shirley hung her head. Ia flier r1►t!- "lent of triumph she was ism ler eiM Children Cry for Fletcher's The Hind You Have Always Bought, and which has been, in use for over 30 years, has borne the signature of and has been made under his per.. somal supervision since its infancy. 14-414, Allow no one to deceive you in this. All Counterfeits, Imitations and "Just -as -good" are but Experiments that trifle with and endanger the health of Infants and Children—Experience against Experiment. What is CASTORIA Castoria is a harmless substitute for Castor Oil, Pare- goric, Drops and Soothing Syrups. It is pleasant. It contains neither Opium, Morphine nor other Narcotic substance. Its age is its guarantee. It destroys Worms and allays Feverishness. For more than thirty years it has been in constant use for the relief of Constipation, Flatulency, Wind Colic, all Teething Troubles and Diarrhoea. It regulates the Stomach and Bowels, assimilates the Food, giving healthy and natural sleep. The Children's Panacea—Tho Mother's Friend. I jl GENUINE CASTO R IA ALWAYS Bears the Signature of , rr The Kind You Have Always Bought In Use For Over 30 Years .1 1 THE CENTAUR COMPANY. T7 MUNNAY STREET. NEW YORK CITY. the hard things she had said to this man. She held out her hand to him. "Forgive me." she said gently. "It was for my father. 1 had no faith. I thought your heart was of stone." Impulsively Ryder drew her to him. He clasped her two hands in his, and, looking down at het—kindly. he said awkwardly: "So it was; so it was! You accom- plished the miracle. It's the first time I've acted on pure sentiment. Let me tell you something. Good sentiment is bad business, and good business is bad sentiment. 'That's why 41 rich roan is generally supposed to have such a hard time getting into the kingdom of heav- en." Ile laughed and went en: "I've given :510,000,000 apiece to three uni- versities. Do you think l'in fool enough to suppose I can buy my way? But that's another matter. I'm going to Washington on behalf of your father because I—want you to marry my son. Yes, I want you iu the faintly, close to us. I want your respect, my girl. I want your love. 1 want to earn it. I know 1 can't buy it. There's a weak spot in every man's armor, and this is mine. I always want what I can't get, and I can't get your love unless I earn Shirley remained pensive. Her thoughts were out on Long Island at Massapequa. She was thinking of their joy when they heard the news—her fa- ther, her mother and Stott She was thinking of the future, bright and glo- rious with promise again now that the Clark clouds were passing away. She thought of Jefferson, and a soft light came into her eyes as she foresaw a happy wifehood shared with him. "Why so sober?" demanded Ryder. "You've gained your point. Your fa- ther is to be restored to you. You'll marry the man you love." "I'm so happy!" murmured Shirley. "I don't deserve it. I had no faith." Ryder released her and took out his watch. "I leave in fifteen minutes for Wash- ington," he said. "Wilt you trust me to go alone?" "I trust you gladly," she answered, smiling at him. "I shall always be grateful to you for letting me convert you." "You won me over last night," he re- joined, "when you put up that fight for your father. I inade up my mind that a girl so loyal to her father would be loyal to her husband. You think," he went on, "that I do not love my son. You are mistaken. I do love him, and I want him to be happy. I am capable of more affection than people think. It is Wall street," he added bit- terly, "that bas crushed nil sentiment out of me." Shirley laughed nervously, almost hysterically. "I want to laugh, and I feel like cry- ing!" she cried. "What will Jefferson say? How happy be will be!" "How are you going to tell him?" in- quired Ryder uneasily. "I shall tell him that his dear, good father has relented, and"— "No, my dear," he interrupted, "you will say nothing of the sort, I draw the line at the dear, good father act I don't want him to thick that It cokes from me at all." "But," said Shirley, puzzled, "I shall have to tell him 'that you"— "What!" acclaimed Ryder. "Ac- knowledge to my son that I was wrong, that I'r'e seen the error of my ways and with to repent? Excuse me." he added grimly. "It's got to come from him. He must see the error of his ware." "'Rut the error of his way," laughed the girl, "was falling in love with me. I can never prove to him that that was meat" The financier refused to be eonvine. ed. Be shook his bad and said s'tilb• bouts: "Well, he moat be put la the wrong somehow or other. Wily, my dear child," be went on, "that boy has been waiting all his life for an opportunity! 1 to say to me, 'Father, I knew I was ins . the right, and I knew you were wrong.'i Can't you see," he asked, "what a false position it places me in? Just picture his triumph!" "He'll be too happy to triumph," ob- jected Shirley. Feeling a little ashamed of Ids atti- tude, he said: "I suppose you think I'm very obsti- sate." Then as she made no reply he added, "I wish I didn't care what you thought" Shirley looked at him gravely for a moment, and then she replied serious- ly: "Mr. Ryder, you're a great man., you're a genius, your life is full of ac- tion, energy, achievement But it ap- pears to be only the good, the noble and the true that you are ashamed of.. When your money triumphs over prin- ciple, when your political power de- feats the ends of justice, you glory in your victory. But when you do a kind- ly, generous, fatherly act, when yon win a grand and noble victory over yourself, you are ashamed of it. It was a kind, generous impulse that has prompted you to save my father and take your son and myself to your heart. Why are you ashamed to let him see it? Are you afraid he will love K'ou? Are you afraid I shall love you? Open your heart wide to us. Let us love you." P,yder, completely vanquished, open- ed his arms, and Shirley sprang for- ward and embraced lcini as she would have embraced her own father. A soli- tary tear coursed down the financier's cheek. in thirty years lie had not felt or been touched by the emotion of hu- man affection. The door suddenly opened, and Jef- ferson entered. IIe started on seeing Shirley in his father's arms. 'Jett', my boy," said the financier, re- leasing Shirley and putting her hand 1n his son's. "I've done something yon couldn't do. I've convinced Miss Green —I mean Miss Rossmore—that we are not so had after all." Jefferson, beaming, grasped his fee ther's hand. "Father!" he exclaimed. "That's what 1 say—father!" echoed Shirley. They both embraced the financier until, overcome with emotion. Ryder senior struggled to free himself and made his escape from the room, cry- ing: "Goodby, children! I'm ore for Wash. rngton!" THE ENO. Hal Itching Piles For 27 Years Often Laid 'Cap for Days at Time -- A Wonderful Tribute to Dr. Chaee's Ointment, Few people were ever more en- thusiastic in praising Dr. Chase's Ointment than the writer of this let- ter. When you real the description of his case you will riot wonder why. Mr, John Johnson, Coleman, Alta., writes: "Three years alto I was cured of blind, itching plies of 27 year's' 'standing by using Dr. Chase's Oint- ment, I uni:d to think that death would he the only relief I would ever get from the terrible misery of piles. Often f 'i9ns laid up for three days at a time, and at other times worked when I should have been in bed. "Dr. Chatie's Ointment le worth six- ty dollarrt a box instead of sixty cents. I am ir. different man since using it. I am farming all the time, and never miss a day. 'Norsk fail to express my gratitude for the cure tide ointment made for me. I cannot tell half as much about It as It deserves. Anyone doubting this can write direct to me"- Dr, e,"I)r, Cha'se's Ointment, tO cents a box, all dealers, or Edma 1eon, Bate/ & Co,. I,lrrlited, 'Toronto.