University of Missouri College of Engineering - Shamrock Yearbook (Columbia, MO)

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' Y M?-f :QW 6 7 V 1-ig! Sl-zamrock :- 1916. fight against total extinguishment-that he would give up his fortune and.al1 that he had won for the other's good health. 'Tm ready to quit now, Lewis, I'm ready to quit-but my God, it's too late now. Which got Lewis to thinking and then he began to tell the story, as much of it as he knew, of Justice Given, his friend of the Great Silent. Lewis' voice was tuned with the winds and the forests. It rose above the low and monotonous hum about them. People at the two or three ad- joining tables might have heard his story, if they had listened. Within the immaculateness of his evening dress, Bhrome shivered, fearing that Lewis' voice might attract undue attention to them. But other people were absorbed in themselves. Lewis went on with his story, and at last, so clearly that it eas- ily 'reached the other tables, he spoke the name of justice Given. Then came the interruption, and with that interruption a strange and sudden upheaval in the life of George Lewis that was to mean more to him than the discovery of his gold mine. His eyes swept over Bhrome's shoulder, and there he saw a woman. She was stand- ing. A low, stifled cry had broken from her at the instant of his first glimpse of her, and as he looked, Lewis saw her lips form gaspingly the name he had spoken-justice Given! She was so near that Bhrome could have turned and touched her. Her eyes were like luminous fires as she stared at Lewis. Her face was strangely white. He could see her quiver, and catch her breath. And she was looking at him. For that one moment she had forgotten the presence of the others. Then a hand touched her arm. It was the hand of her elderly escort, in whose face were anxiety and wonder. The woman started and took her eyes from Lewis. With her escort she seated her- self at a table a few paces away, and for a few moments George could See she was fighting for composure, and that it cost her a struggle to keep her eyes from turning in his direction whileshe talked in a low voice with her compan- ion. . George's heart was pounding like a trip hammer. He knew that'she was and he knew when he had He forgot her. She was talking about him now, that she had cried out spoken Given's name. Bhrome as he looked at exquisite, even with that gray pallor that had come so suddenly to her cheeks. She was not young, as the age of youth is measured. Perhaps she was thirty or thirty-Eve. If some one had asked Lewis to describe her, he would have said that she was glorious. Yet her en- trance had caused no stir. Few had looked at her until she had uttered that cry. There were scores of women under the lights possessed of more spectacular beauty. Bhrome had partly turned in his seat, and now, with careful breeding, he faced his companion again. Do you know her? Lewis asked. Bhrome shook his head. No.,' Then he added: Did you see what made her cry out like that?', I believe so, said Lewis, and he turned purposely so that the four peo- ple at the next table might see him and hear him. I think that she sprained Tixt

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'i 1' ' I ' X S ... 'J A , t- fig-T: more of him than did his fellow men. They knew him for miles up and down that white finger of desolation, they knew the danger of his baits and his traps, they snarled and barked their hatred and defiance at the glow, of his lights on dark nights, they watched for him, sniffed for signs of him, and then blindly walked into his clever death traps. Oftentimes the howl of the gray wolf came rolling over the' icy ground and sent a shudder through his body. I-Ee knew what thati howl meant-hun- ger. . The foxes, the wolves, and justice Given! That was what this dead World was made up of-themg and him. He was killing-but they were winning. 'Slowly but surely they were breaking him down-they and the terrible icy loneliness. The loneliness he might have stood for many years. But they- were driving him mad. More and more he had come to dread their howling at night. That wasthe deadly com-bina- and the howling. In the laughed at himself for be- cowardg but at nights the moistened his brow, and tion-night daytime he ing such a cold sweat sometimes he screamed at the awfulness of it all. What kind of manner of man he had been, and of the strangeness of the life that he endured in the maddening lone- liness of that mystery cabin in the edge of the Barren, only one other man knew, and that was George Lewis, his former assistant, the only friend he had ever made during the time he had been in this wilderness. But two thousand miles south, George Lewis sat a small table in a brilliantly lighted and fashionable cafe. It was Fifteen 9 early in the summer, and Lewis had been down from the north not more than a month. The deep tan was on his face, and the tiny wind and snow lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes. He exuded the life of the big outdoors, as he sat opposite the pallid cheeked and weak-chested Bhrome, who would have given his millions to possess the red blood in the other's veins. Lewis had m-ade his strike,, while he was with the company. That day he had sold out to Bhrome for a hundred thousand, and he was filled with the flush of joy and triumph. Bhrome's eyes shone witha new sort of enthusiasm as he listened to this man's story of grim and fighting deter- mination that had led to the discovery of the gold mine away up in the moun- tains of the frozen north. He looked upon the other's strength, his bronzed face and the glory of achievement in his eyes, and a great and yearning hope- lessness burned like a dull fire in his breast. He envied him. He was no old- er than the other that sat opposite him on the other side of the table-yet a vast gulf lay between them. I-lie had his millions, the other with a flood of red blood coming and going in his body and his wonderful fortune of a hundred thousand. Bhrome leaned over the table and laughed. It was the laugh of a man who had grown tired of, life, in spite of his fortune. Only a few days before a famous specialist had warned him that the threads of his life were giving away -breaking one by one. He told this to his companion. He confessed to him with the strange glow in his eyes-a glow that was like a fire making a last

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or her ankle. It's on account--oh, it's an occasional penance the women make for wearing these high-heeled shoes, you know. He looked at her again. Her form was bent toward the white-haired man who was with her. The man was star- ing straight over at George, a strange, searching look in his face as he listened to what she was saying. He seemed to question Lewis through the short dis- tance that separated them. And then the woman turned her head slowly, and once more Lewis met her eyes square- ly-deep, dark, glowing eyes that thrilled him to the quick of his soul. He did not try to understand what he saw in them. Before he turned his glance to Bhrome he saw that the color had swept back into her face, her lips were parted, he knew that she was struggling to suppress a tremendous emotion. Bhrome was looking at him curiously -and George went on with his story of Given. He told it in a lower voice. Not until he had finished did he look again in the direction of the other table. The woman had changed her position slight- ly, so that he could not see her face. The uptilt of her hat revealed to him the warm, soft glow of shining coils of brown hair. He was sure that her es- cort was keeping watch of his move- ments. Suddenly Bhrome saw a man that he had been wishing to see for some time, so he excused himself to Lewis and left the table. A few seconds later the white-haired man was on his feet. I-Ile came over to Lewis' table, andiseated himself casu- ally in Bhrome's vacant chair, as though he were a very personal friend of Seventeen . 'f Georgeis that had come to have a friend- ly chat for a few minutes. I beg your pardon for the imposition which I am laying upon youf' he said in a very quiet voice. I am Captain Courtley. The lady with me is my daughter. And you, I believe, are a gentleman. If I were not sure of that, I should not have taken the advantage of addressing you. You heard my daugh- ter cry out a few moments ago? You observed that she was-disturbed? Lewis nodded. I could not help it. I was facing her. And since then I have thought that I'was the cause of her being dis- turbed. I am George Lewis. I have just arrived from the gold fields. So, you see, if it is a case of mistaken identity- No-no-it is not that, interrupted the older man. As we were passing your table-my daughter-heard you speak a name. Perhaps she was mis- taken. It was Justice Given. Yes, I know him. He is a friend of mine. ' ' E Bhrome was returning. The other saw that over George's shoulder and his voice trembled with excitement as he said quickly: ' Your friend is coming back. No one must know that my daughter is inter- ested in this man-Given. She trusts you. She sent me to you. It is impor- tant that she should see you tonight and talk with you alone. I will wait for you outside. I will have a taxicab ready to take you to my apartments. Will you come? I will come, he said. With a feeling that thisnight had set stirring a brew of strange. and unfore-