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Show J Built on the I Rock Eternal I X By Warner Littlcjohn x r,ooxxxxxxxxa (Copyright. 1915, by W. G. Chapman.) 'You are very unfair!" "Wliy not put it clever? In this orld the man who looks out sharply (or his own interests wins. That's what I have done." "At a cost to the business here and a personal loss ou my part. Hackett, vou are not an honest man." John Hackett flushed up. His hard (ace became resentful, then vicious. "I'll prosecute you if you say that outside!" he blustered. "I have no intention of doing so." replied re-plied William Barry, In his usual quiet, bat meaning way. "I drop all the mean details of your shrewd manipulation of affairs here, shall withdraw my capital cap-ital and say good-by " "See here, Barry!" cried Hackett aghast, "you can't mean that!" "1 do unqualifiedly. There Is one hundred and fifty thousand, my invested invest-ed capital, coming to me. There should te over double that, for all the years you have been using the money of the firm In outside deals In which I rightfully right-fully should have a share. My lawyer will call to make the settlement. Good-day." It was a serious break In both business busi-ness and family relations, but William Birry went on the peaceful tenor of his way and refused to discuss it. "I have simply retired," he told his intimate friends. "I have always worked to an end, and am now rich enough to provide for its fulfillment." "I've got half a million!" Hackett chuckled to himself, "and no discussion discus-sion about It. Three to one against Barry cow I can reach my ambition." After that William Barry merely bowed politely to his former partner when he pased him on the street. This nettled Hackett. In his soul he recognized recog-nized the lofty superiority of an honest man. Then, too, he secretly winced is he realized that In fact and truth hyhad swindled Barry. Fort two years his only child, motherless moth-erless Felice, and Arnold Barry bad been friends, chums, almost lovers. The first thing Hackett did was to send his daughter away to boarding m m C( I EPS Prosecute You If You Say That Outside!" school. Felice understood what this Keant a change In her pleasant rela-Uons rela-Uons with Arnold. The latter had Just graduated as a Physician. This entirely harmonized 'ta the plan his father had formed, t'pon its execution both now set heart, Kind and capital at work. "The dream of his life," William E&rry called it. In due course of time 'he people of Winston saw the house to which the Barrys had lived for many years removed to a selected plat f the ten-acre grounds. In the center f which it stood. It was fenced In by "self, remodeled, and then In the cen-ter cen-ter of the larger plat the construction ' a pretentious building was begun. The site was beautiful, for the spot 'a8 a natural park. At first it was be-"eved be-"eved that the Barrys were building a Maimer hotel. Then the truth began t0 leak out. "The dream of William Barry's life" a to maintain a summer home for tlred mothers and weak and ailing children, gathered from the poorer , barters of the big city twenty-five . WIes distant. Ia this work they had he co-operation of a leading philanthropic philan-thropic association in the metropolis. Arnold was to devote his skill as a Physician to the free Inmates of the i home. Nurses and matrons were era-5 era-5 f'oyed. A spacious and comfortable eiifice arose on the crest of the hill, Dd the evening when the place burst to a blaze of electric light all the wn celebrated. "Humph!" sneered Hackett-"a fool and his money!" And thou, out of pure perversity, emulation and vanity, the lonely old money-maker determined to vaunt the possibilities of his ill-gotten wealth by erecting, hair a mile away from the Palatial home ho had built, a family mausoleum, tils selfish pride craved some kind of a tribute to his wealth. l!.v the time the mausoleum was completed com-pleted Hackett had expended well on' towards one hundred thousand dollars. dol-lars. U was a handsome show piece of extravagance, ex-travagance, nothing more, yet Hackett cherished it as the apple of his eve He went past it at least once a day. He had columns describing u in the newspapers. He ruled, the moneybags money-bags nabob of the town, and foolishly believed that he was the envied of all men. He was sadly disappointed when, at the end of a year, Felice came home from boarding school and settled down into the cheerless life he had marked out for her She had no heart in the big sprawling mansion, the mausoleum cast a gruesome spell over her spirits. The stern decision of her irrational father that she should not even notice the Barrys, chilled her as would a wintry win-try blast a delicate, lovely flower. Twice she met Arnold Barry. Her father learned of it. He exacted a promise from her that she would discontinue dis-continue all communication with the Barrys, and her gentle heart nearly broke. "It will stand forever!" vaunted Hackett one day to a fellow townsman, the sweep of his hand proudly taking in the grand mausoleum. "Dunno, Hackett," dissented the practical neighbor. "They tell me it's got a floating foundation, as they call It. Used to be quicksand where the river sweeps around just below It." "Nonsense!" declared Hackett, rasp-ir.gly. rasp-ir.gly. "It's built for the ages!" The weeks went by. Poor mourning Felice grew paler and more quiet. Her father wandered uneasily about the lonely mansion. Then came a three days' deluge. Just at dusk, as the weather cleared, he crossed the turbid swollen stream to view the monument that had cost him a fortune. "Solid as rock they won't soon forget for-get the name of Hackett!" he tried to console himself by saying. Then he started back, horrified. He saw the cliff side crumble. He saw the great mausoleum swerve, its undermined un-dermined foundation give way, and it seemed to disintegrate and slide into the roaring stream below before his appalled vision. He had built on the sand mausoleum and happiness. He was chilled, fright ened. He turned his back upon nis wasted labor with a hollow groan. Was heaven reproaching him; was fate mocking? How hollow the gains of all his pride and scheming! He halted, halt-ed, trembling, as the sound of a Joyous Joy-ous hymn of praise was borne to his hearing on the evening's breeze. He saw the children's home all ablaze with the glory of the setting sun, he heard care-free juvenile voIcbs chanting gratitude and content. Ah! how completely had the Barrys carried car-ried out their great life dream to make others happy! He was shivering like a leaf as he reached home. There the sad, resigned re-signed face of his lonely daughter chided him anew. He was overcome with remorse, all grew dark It was a month later when, looking older by twenty years, he tottered about the garden, leaning on Felice's arm for support. She was the kind, thoughtful daughter in every way, but her wearied eyes told of hopelessness of her life. Someone passed by. "Who. was that?" inquired her father. "Arnold Barry, father," replied Felice, Fe-lice, meekly. "Call him in. Felice, I I have changed my mind. If you are mourning mourn-ing over my past unreasonable sternness, stern-ness, forget, forgive." "Oh! father" "And tell him tell him I will be glad to give half my fortune to enlarge the children's home." The sun burst forth brilliantly from behind a passing cloud as he spoke the harbinger of courage and hope for an erring soul that saw the true light at last. |
