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Show Illustrated hg liwitfyery Copyright hy George HDoran Co "It doesn't look haunted around here," he said as he perceived the tangible joviality of the place, "but you've got to pet me out before dark." That was virtually the complete substance sub-stance of the Hartley house ghost the picture of a turn leaning on a cane by the edge of the river. Romance had to be content with it. One evening in late October, which had fumed chill and brought up a high wind, Mr. Sidney produced a new phenomenon. He had a strange flash of strength. When I went to his room after dinner I found him walking about without help. Ordinarily, if he walked at all. Jed was his strength. "Occasionally I can do it, doctor," he said. "The strength conies. I usually usual-ly pay for it next day, however." "I'd be very careful, then," I suggested. sug-gested. "Yes, but you do not know how grateful it is to feel vigor onc in a while," he said, continuing to walk forth and back In the room. I sat down and watched him without remonstrating. It was astonishing to see him so agile and strong but I had learned that timid prudence was very ineffective. I had confessed my inability inabil-ity to understand him. He did not seem to want to continue life for the purpose of preserving Its sensations but for the purpose of some accomplishment. His conditions were so pleasant that it might be reasonable to desire a prolonging of them. Evl- V O THAT'S DOBSON. 8ynof)MlH. Dr. John Miclielson, Juflt rj.;nlnnlnK his career, becomes resident physician and companion of ilijnifjr Hlilney at Hartley house. Mr. Hl'lney 1h an American, a seml-Invulld, seml-Invulld, old urid rich and very de-Birous de-Birous to live. Mrs. Sidney is a .Spanish woman, distillled and reticent. reti-cent. Jed, the bulier, acts like a privileged member of the family. Hartley house is a due old Isolated country place, with a murder story, a "haunted pool," and many watch-duns, watch-duns, and an atmosphere of mystery. mys-tery. The "haunted pool" Is where Ulchard Ilobaon, son of a former owner of Hartley house, had killed his brother, Arthur Dohson. Jed begins operations by locking the doctor In his room tlio very first nlKht. lioctor John fixes his door so he can't be locked In. He meets Isobel, daughter of the house and fulls In love at llrst Hltflit. In the nlKht he Muds the butler drunk and holding Mrs. Sidney by the wrist, lie Interferes. Mrs. Sidney makes liirht of It. John buys a revolver. John overhe.irH Jed telling Mrs. Sidney he will have his way. In reply shfl says she will not hesitate to kill him. Mrs. Sidney asks John lo consent to the announcement of his miKaKeniont to Isobel. The young people consent to the make-believe make-believe engagement. Later they find It is to head off Jed, who would marry Isobel. Jed tries to kill John. but the matter is smoothed over. John, though "engaged" "en-gaged" to Isobel, conceals tils love. O -O CHAPTER IV Continued. 5 Our charming old gentleman could not go through Ule enlire Institution, antl the warden led him to the most accessible pvrts of the interesting place. We saw the rattan-chair works and the honor meir in the gardens. We also took one glance at a tier of cell-houses cell-houses and peeped into the dining-hall and into the chapel. The warden would have had us stay to d Inner. I had to forbid this. It would have been too much of a physical strain upon Mr. Sidney. I knew that the little lit-tle diversion was Interesting him, and I was glad to have him interested, but I' did not want to tax his strength. "I'm the doctor's servant," he said. "I'll look into the library if you don't ' mind, warden, anil then we'll obey the physician." Warden Williams led us to the library, li-brary, which contained a large collection col-lection of books. An elderly convict was engaged in cataloguing some new volumes which had just been taken out of boxes. He was Interested and paid no attention to us. Mr. Sidney looked at him for a few minutes. "What did you say was his crime?" he asked of the warden. "That's Dobson," said Mr. Williams. "You must know his story. He is the man who killed his brother. You are r- living in the Dobson heuse." I looked at the frail, white-haired man with a sudden shock of interest. This was the man who had created the ghost story at Hartley house. He was fumbling registry cards and writing on them. He was frail and insignificant. He had been once, by legend, a sturdy, muscular, cruel brute. He was now feeble and Interested in cataloguing. Mr. Sidney looked about the room. "This does not seem to be so well protected as the other parts of the prison," he said. "It is not thought necessary," said the warden. "Escape from here might J not he Impossible for an agile man. It Ingly. His chana of manner never seemed more positive and active. "Hello, doctor!" he said. "I needed company and Jnt your company. If you would only drink wine!" e A broken pipe in the laundry made it necessary to call a plumber from Hartley, and to get quick service. It was agreed that we should send a car for the man and his helper. The day was pleasant, and for the sake of the drive I went with the driver. The plumber was a fat man of the comic type. I thought he must be the embodiment of all the plumbers' Jokes. They seemed to have created him ; he was the product of the comics. I even asked him if he were sure he had all his tools. I thought he would be sure to send us back for a wrench. He was amiable, laughed at anything or nothing and was saved from being a nuisance only by an abounding animal ani-mal 'optimism which was infectious. Driving through the Hartley house grounds, we came to the pool, and the plumber named Harklns chuckled. Thus far, whenever he or something else amused him, he had laughed. Now he chuckled as if in recollection of an experience richer or deeper than any he had been talking of. "That place is going' to be remembered remem-bered by me," he said. "I have been out here only once since the night I made a bet I was not afraid to sit on the bank here for an hour. They've got a good many stories of this place in town. I had been drinking a little. I don't do it steady, but once in a while I get out. You've got to do it to keep the house going happy. Give the wife something to talk about. My wife would rather scold me than eat, and she leves her food. "We were at the White Pigeon, having hav-ing a good time but thinking of going home, when some one started on this Hartley house story. Everybody had something to say, and I said that there was no ghost that could scare me, at least no ghost that ever was within a hundred miles of Hartley. . That's where I made a fool of myself. I've got to admit that's where I made a fool of myself. "I bet five dollars I would sit an hour on the bank at this place. I forgot for-got all about the dogs, or I'd not have made the bet. Anyway, they didn't bother me. We got an automobile and drove out here. The fellows left me at the pool and went a mile back. They were going to take my word for it. I was to stay an hour and then start' walking back. At the end of an hour they would start toward me and pick me up. They had beer and sandwiches. sand-wiches. I had a couple of bottles and some cheese and crackers. "I wasn't afraid of that place. I'm not afraid of any place unless I get to thinking about this one. It was along in October. A hoot-owl was somewhere back of me, and there was a whippoorwill up toward the house. "I'm used to hoot-owls and whip-poorwills, whip-poorwills, but I hadn't drunk more than half a bottle of beer before even these things began to sound different. "The current of the river kept knocking knock-ing at the big rock at the up end of the pool, and you began to think that things were reaching for you out of the dark. I'd have given ten dollars to quit, but I got so that I didn't want to move. I felt safer sitting still. "Then I began to hear things that I don't suppose were making a noise at all. It may be it was rabbits in the bush. I nearly died when I heard a cry about fifty feet back of me.' I did hear that. I guess a ferret had got a rabbit. You know how a rabbit cries like a baby. "I was sitting in the open, and I thought I'd feel better if I got my back up against something. So I crawled over to some bushes and sat down behind be-hind them. "Maybe I had been there a half an hour, feeling scary and uncomfortable, when I heard a regular yell. There wasn't any fooling al-out that. It sounded like some one being hurt but yelling not so much because of the hurt as because he was mad. "You've heard fellows talking about their hair standing on end. I never knew what it really meant before, but my hair just stood right up. I felt like some one was trying to scalp me, and I was gooseflesh all over. "It had been dark on account of clouds, but just then the moon came out and lighted up the place. There was a man standing on the edge of the pool, just about where I had been sitting. sit-ting. He was leaning with both hands on a cane and standing perfectly still. He didn't seem like a man. He looked like one, but you had a feeling that he wasn't one. "I don't want ever to be so scared again. I didn't know who had yelled, but I thought this man had, and I didn't think he was a man. I thought he was a ghost. I'm not saying what I think now, but if I had to, I'd say that I saw the ghost of this place and anybody that wants to laugh can laugh. He can come down here at night and get cured of laughing. "I couldn't move for a while. The man stood still, leaning on his cane. I watched him until I began to feel that I could use my legs again. I don't know why I was so scared, but I was. I crawled away through the brush for a hundred feet or so. Then I got up and ran. "I heard that yell behind me again. I'll bet nobody around here ever ran a mile as fast as I did. I scared the fellows who were waiting for me. They didn't poke any fun at me. They looked at me and got that automobile started. I paid the bet, but they didn't have any laugh on me. There isn't one of them would come down here at night now." "When was this?" I asked. "Four or five years ago." said the plumber. "Some time in October." We came to the house, and he went luto the laundry to fix the pipes. ' "That's all there Is human of your ghost story," said the warden. "It Is more than most ghost stories have," said Mr. Sidney. CHAPTER V. I could not believe the slightest particle par-ticle In the ghost story. I am rationalistic. ration-alistic. But as the legend of the pond took shape, my imagination began to give substance to its shadows. Yet the place was genial and cordial. Mr. Sidney's joviality was the dominant dom-inant note in the house. An aging sick man migM naturally have been testy. Ho might have been Impatient, have had whims and crochets. He might have been iras'cible In his demands upon and acceptance of service. But Mr. Sidney was always cordial and considerate. A great deal of the time he spent in bed. When he was not In bed, he sat in a great chair, and very often a yellow Persian cat rested on his knees. It was a difficult If not dangerous matter for any one else than Mr. Sidney to touch the cat, named Algol. "The Winking Demon," said Mr. Sidney, fingering the cat's ruff as it lay on his lap, and purred. I knew just enough of the star Algol and its variability vari-ability to understand the whimsicality of an old man's naming a cat for' the winking sun. Algol in Mr. Sidney's lap blinked at me, and the old man's genius for understanding and classification classi-fication seemed uncanny. Mr. Sidney's room was of great size. It had two fireplaces and a large cove of windows bulging toward the west. At the smaller of the two fireplaces he had his breakfast. Either at the large fireplace or in the outward bulge of windows, he had his dinner. In spite of the Persian cat, Mr. Sid-Dey Sid-Dey had three canaries in the room. Algol respected them after a fashion that I thought uncertain. I have seen a canary sitting on the cat's head, but I thought it was a decided case of mis- , placed confidence. Algol wanted that canary and would continue to want it. He was deterred from natural action in the matter by his affection for the strange but kindly master who wanted want-ed cats and canaries to live together in amity. I know I never fully grasped Mr. Sidney's scheme of life, but I thought that he found existence ironic. His graciousness and his cheerfulness, I thought, represented the garlands of his conquest of morbidity. His personal per-sonal charm was extraordinary. Every one in the house felt it. But an astonishing aston-ishing thing about Mr. Sidney was an occasional emotion which, as it manifested mani-fested itself in his expressions and that was the only fashion I saw it for a long time was one of savage hate. It was only by coming on him when he was not expecting me that I saw this. I remember that the first time I s1w the expression on his face I was dumfounded. That I was not expected in his room was entirely without intention inten-tion on my part. People who were accustomed ac-customed to being vith him walked into the room without ceremony. His bedroom and bath were to one side. His living-room he insisted should be open without formality. On the occasion I speak of I had come in quietly, but it was without intention to surprise my patient. He was sifting in his large chair with Algol on his knees. His eyes were closed, and on his face was an expression of malevolence malevol-ence that was almost demoniac. It was so startling that the sight of it stopped me in my step and made me feel more than uneasy, almost afraid. Mr. Sidney was quiet, except that with one hand he stroked Algol about the head and ears. The caress was almost al-most imperceptible in motion, but Algol Al-gol was purring so loudly that the sound filled the otherwise quiet room. The malevolence the malignancy, hatred, concentrated essence of ferocity feroc-ity in Mr. Sidney's face would have stopped anyone. To one who had affection af-fection for him as I had. it was abhorrent ab-horrent to see him so. It was a confession con-fession of something I did not want t'o know. 1 was in fear that he might hear me and, opening his eyes, find that I had discovered him. I was embarrassed and uncertain what to do. It was a silly predicament, as I saw afterward. My part was quite simple. I should have paid no attention to any such phenomenon as the expression on a man's face and have acted perfectly naturally. The common-sense thing and I consider con-sider myself fgirly sensible was apparent ap-parent afterward. It indicates the astonishing as-tonishing shock of the tiling that I was unable to act sensibly. What was the expression in an amiable, charming man's face, to knock a sensible person out of all his senses? Here was a dozing man merely toying with a cat's ears, and the very sight of what was expressed in his face, made me numb. I cannot understand it now. the terrifying ter-rifying sensation being one which disappeared dis-appeared as the rcoIlection of the emotions faded. What I did was to back toward the door, open it as quietly quiet-ly as I could, back out, and then reenter re-enter the room noisily. Mr. Sidney was looking at me smil- "What Are We Drinking Tonight, Jed?" dently he was not set upon that. He was not trying to accomplish anything. He did nothing. He had no unfinished work. And' yet his will to live, I knew, was a will to see the fruit of something. some-thing. He seemed to have a spiritual incentive; something that had other than a physical impulse controlled him and gave him resolution. I was marveling at his strange activity ac-tivity when Isobel and Mrs. Sidney came in. Mr. Sidney proposed whist, and we began a game. The wind increased in-creased in violence, and the log fire grew in comfort. We had a pleasant game, disturbed for me only by speculations specu-lations as to the cause of Mr.- Sidney's strange animation and strength. , Shortly after ten o'clock the ladies said good night, and Jed came in with a fresh log for the fire. The wind had been increasing in volume, sound and power. I was thinking of bed. "Sit a while longer, doctor," Mr. Sidney Sid-ney urged. "Jed and I shall be the better for some other company. This is the sort of night we like to sit up to enjoy. Esthetically one ought to make the most of such a night." Jed went out and presently came in again with two bottles of wine. "What are we drinking tonight. Jed?" Mr.. Sidney asked. "I thought the evening suggested a warm sherry," said Jed. "I think it does," suid Mr. Sidney, "There is body and a live soul in sherry." "But certainly," I suggested in alarm, "you will not drink sherry." "Indeed not," said Mr. Sidney. "Jed drinks it for me, and I watch him. You must have a glass with him just one. He'll have a dozen I don't ask you to follow him but just one." Jed opened a bottle, and when he offered me a glass I yielded. I wanted to increase the sense of protective comforts against that shrill wind outside. out-side. Jed drew a comfortable chair close to the fire and took his wiae in large but appreciative gulps. I took mine in small but appreciative sips. The fire roared, and the wind bowled. Jed, drinking by gulps, soon was exhilarated. ex-hilarated. Mr. Sidney and I had been rational. We had been talking, I recall, re-call, of the substitution of a Syrian idea of immortality, concerned chiefly with precious metals and stones, for the north European idea of Valhalla, when Jed began to sing, and with gusto and affection opened another bottle of wine. The wind grew in violence. vio-lence. "It is a night for any of the living dead about a place," I said. "I like a wind that has many voices." said Mr. Sidney. "It produces certain sensations or emotions that are primitive. primi-tive. It suggests a threat and increases the sense of slicker and comfort. We sit like peasants about the fireplace and are inclined to legends." Story of the Dohsoi. Murder. ' J (TO EE CONTI.N'L CD.) 111' F "He Is the Man Who Killed His Brother." 1b not impossible from any part of the prisoTi. It can only be made improbable-. It would be easier from here, but still difficult. But this old man would oe in a harder prison of deprivation depri-vation and friendlessness outside than be is i.'isii!;;." "Do you mean that he is the man ho made the pliost story I bought jrlili i;- i' Mr. Sidney asked. |