his office bag still held absent-mindedly in 107 | 154 was interrupted, the voice of Alice was the his hand, than they were upon him. The 108 155 clearest, making the others, no matter how cordial smile did not deceive them for a 109 156 near the speakers stood, seem to come minute. Aunt Janet, who was sitting by the 110 157 from far away. Little Jack came and fireplace, looked the most troubled of all, 111 158 climbed upon his father's knee, a curious though she said nothing. It was 'Why, 112 159 reproduction of the family look of worry John, what's the matter?' from Aunt Mary, 113 160 appearing upon his chubby face. John the and 'Well, John, how goes it?' from Uncle 114 161 Philip, who looked as if he knew that it 115 162 went very badly indeed; and 'What makes 116 163 you look so worried? With a home like this, 117 164 no man ought to look worried,' from his 118 165 Cousin Austin, who had recently become 119 166 'Everything's the matter,' he said engaged and was thinking about homes. He 120 167 wearily, 'everything'; and he had a monodded approvingly at the room, which 121 168 mentary twinge of conscience, realizing was simply furnished, soft in coloring, 122 169 that he was not being the ideal host. with English chintzes, a few pictures of 123 170 They all watched him anxiously, sympa

178

elder leaned his head back in the chintzcovered chair, shutting his eyes for a minute with a sense of warmth and satisfaction, and the nearness of the cuddling body of his son.

for.'

trees and of water, all out-of-door 124 171 thetically, in silence; and Aunt Mary, near things, and a fireplace that showed signs 125 172 the window, went on drawing her needle of constant use. 126 173 in and out with exquisite precision, her John's face brightened as he caught this 127 174 gray head bent over a centrepiece which look of admiration; not all the confusion 128 175 she intended to present to the house. of greeting and inquiries in regard to 129 176 'Oh no, I'm not ill,' said John Wareham, health, not all the business worries in the 130 177 suddenly sitting upright; 'but the Long world could check the sense of peace that 131 Gorge Railroad has gone into a receiver's always came to him in entering this room, 132 179 hands, and three days ago the New York which, more perfectly than any other spot, 133 180 and Ninevah cut its dividend. I'm done expressed the personality of Alice. He man- 134 181 aged to make his way through the little 135 182 Emily gave a little gasp, and said nothcrowd of sympathetic wrinkled faces, and 136 183 ing. You will pull through all right,' aswondering smooth faces. There were, it was 137 184 serted Uncle Philip, stirring up the fire in discovered, comfortable chairs enough for 138 185 order to hide his face. And Cousin Austin all, and John found himself, as host, the 139 186 slapped John's shoulder, saying facetiously, centre of a little group bent on probing his 140 'Take courage, Jeremiah. The worst is yet affairs, in friendly fashion, to the bottom. 141 188 to come." It was his sister Emily who finally 142 189 started the flood of questioning that led to 143 190 the betrayal of the secret he had meant to 144 191 keep for the present. She came bustling in 145 192 through the door leading to the dining- 146 193 room, looking anxious as soon as she 147 194 glanced at her brother; and from the brass 148 195 bowl of yellow roses held unsteadily in her 149 196 hand, a few drops spattered to the floor. 150 197 'Are you ill, John,' she asked, 'or have 151 198 you lost' Among all the many voices 152 of inquiry, comment, question whereby she 153

187

John laughed in spite of himself, and struck his fist upon the knee not occupied by Jack.

'Every dollar I had in the world I had drawn out and put into those two cursed things. Now I've nothing, no capital, no credit. The place has got to go.'

'No, no!' cried the women-folk.

'The place has got to go,' repeated John Wareham, his face in little Jack's hair. 199 'And I feel as if I could rob a bank or a 200 jewelry store to prevent that.'

Jack burst into a delighted giggle, 201 247 "This can't be. Read that, will you, and through which John heard, 'You would n't 202 248 tell me if I have lost my mind.'

do any such thing, and you must n't talk 203
that way before Jack.' It was Alice who 204
spoke, with a little catch in her voice that 205
sometimes came, half way between a laugh
and a sob; and it was echoed by the two
aunts.

206

207

208

213

249

Emily put down the roses, and read the letter slowly, wonderingly, smiling even as 251 her brother had smiled.

250

254 'Twenty thousand dollars,' murmured

256

Open-mouthed silence waited upon them, 257 them, until Cousin Austin broke the spell 258 with:

259

'I say, would you mind if I looked over your shoulder?'

And John flung him the letter with a little whoop of joy.

'Is this plain living, or is this a fairy

'Railroads!' growled John, with supreme 209 255 John. contempt. 'It would have been a great deal 210 better if railroads had never been invented. 211 Jack, we shall have to get a prairie 212 schooner, and trek to the West.' Jack's eyes shone like stars, but he got 214 260 no chance to say anything, for, with that 215 261 outburst, the springs of speech were 216 262 loosened. There was the clamor, the chorus 217 263 clamor, of relatives, indignant, inquisitive, 218 264 story?' he demanded quizzically. 'I never sympathetic relatives, all eager to help, and 219 all uneasily conscious that their own small 220 measure of prosperity would hardly stand 221 the strain. He shook his head sadly in 222 answer to the inquiry as to whether he 223 could not borrow: he had no security. 224 Aunt Mary did not fail to remind him that 225 she had warned him at the time; Aunt 226 Janet, in a thin but affectionate voice, ad- 227 mitted that she had suffered in the same 228 way heavily. And then the clock ticked 229 through a brief silence.

265 thought of myself as a dark-eyed hero with 266 a fortune dropping into my hands just in 267 the nick of time! A title ought to go with 268 it!'

269 The vibrant energy of the man was back 270 again; the dry humor that, in sunny 271 seasons, quivered about his mouth, was 272 once more there; the mocking incredulity 273 of his words belied the growing look of 274 peace and security in his face. The years 275 seemed slipping from him, bringing him a 230 276 mellow boyhood.

'Twenty thousand dollars is n't exactly

'Why don't you read your letters?' 231 277 asked Emily suddenly. She stood, absent- 232 278 a fortune, John.' mindedly arranging the flowers with one 233 finger, busy already with plans for the 234 future.

235

279

280

'It will buy the place twice over,' exulted the man, 'and we sha'n't have to 281 start for the West in a prairie schooner 282 right away!'

'Sha'n't we, papa?' asked little Jack, in hungry disappointment.

There was a small pile of letters on the 236 centre table, quite within John's reach; he 237 283 began tearing open the envelopes in 238 284 mechanical fashion, throwing them un- 239 285 But the child's shrill voice had little tidily upon the floor. As each one fell, Jack 240 286 chance where everybody was speaking at slid down and picked it up, climbing back 241 287 once. Aunt Mary's 'Well, I hope you will to his father's knee. One was a wedding 242 288 hang on to this, and not be foolish again,' announcement; one was a plumber's bill; 243 289 and Cousin Austin's 'You deserve it, John,' at the third, John paused, read, looked up 244 290 and Uncle Howard's 'Well, I am glad. bewildered, and read again. 245 291 Shake!' and several other congratulatory

'Why, Emily!' he exploded, boyishly. 246 292 remarks all came at once.

'The poor old fellow; the poor old fel- 293 | 340

'Good for him,' nodded Austin approv

low,' said John to himself softly, rubbing 294 341 ingly. his hands. 'I suppose he died out in Okla- 295 342 Little Jack, glancing from one to anhoma all alone. How he happened to will 296 343 other with wide blue eyes, was silently this to me, I give up; he did n't like me 297 344 weaving his philosophy of life, and his invery well.' 298 345 terpretation of humanity.

The very atmosphere of the room had 299 346 changed; once more a feeling of quiet 300 347 pleasure pervaded it. The full sense of 301 348 home, peace, security came back, with a 302 349 suggestion of a kettle singing on the hearth, 303 350 though there was no kettle nearer than the 304 351 kitchen. 305 352 'But there's Frank-It must have been 306 353 Alice who suggested this, and a something 307 354 disturbing, questioning, crept into the air. 308 355 'Frank!' said John Wareham suddenly. 309 356 'Why, I'd forgotten all about Frank! We 310 357 have n't heard of him for more than fifteen 311 358 years or so, have we?'

'Religion was mixed up in it in some way,' contributed John. 'Uncle grew to be something of a fanatic, and he wanted them both to believe what he believed, and they would n't, or did n't, or could n't. It was incompatibility of temper all round, I dare say.'

'Frank was a good son,' reminded Alice. 'He was patient with his father, and he all but gave up his life for Uncle John, nursing him through diphtheria.'

More and more the sweet, persistent voice brought trouble and question into the 312 359 atmosphere from which trouble and ques'More than that,' answered Emily. 'He 313 360 tion had so suddenly cleared. The new sewas in Mexico, the last we knew.' 314 361 curity began to seem unstable; the new'He may be living,' suggested John. 315 362 found joy a stolen thing. Even in the 'Mexico is always in such a state I sup- 316 363 pauses, the personality of the woman spoke pose the mails can't be trusted.' 317 364 from curtain and cushion and fireplace of 318 365 this room of her devising. She dominated 319 366 the whole, seeming the only presence 320 367 there; brother and sister and guests shrank 321 368 in the radiance of her.

'We ought to find out,' said Alice. 'Uncle John had cast him off,' suggested Emily tentatively, anxiously.

'But he was Uncle John's own son,' said Alice, earnestly, compellingly; 'and was n't Uncle John in the wrong?'

322 369
323 370

'Uncle John was a queer customer,' said 324 371 John hastily. 'He was cranky, no doubt 325 372 about it, but he was n't crazy; and if this 326 373 lawyer's statement is correct, I've got a 327 374 good legal right to the twenty thousand, 328 375 have n't I?'

'Do you really think I ought to hunt Frank up?' asked the man.

Emily shook her head, but doubtfully. 'You probably could n't find him, after all these years.'

'I could try,' admitted John. 'Nonsense!' cried Aunt Mary, over her 329 376 embroidery. 'You stay right where you are, 'Of course you have!' said Aunt Mary. 330 377 and pay off your mortgage. A man who 'But the moral right?' whispered Alice. 331 378 has worked as hard as you have, and has 'What was the quarrel about, anyway?' 332 379 had as much trouble, ought to take a bit asked Austin. 'Frank's marriage, was n't 333 380 of good luck when it comes.' it? I never heard much about it.'

334 381

'Think how much good you could do with it,' murmured Aunt Janet.

"That was part of it,' said Aunt Janet. 335 382 'Frank, you know, fell in love with a little 336 383 'As the pickpocket said when he put the country girl whom his father did not want 337 384 stolen dime in the collection plate,' said him to marry, but he insisted on having 338 385 Austin; but fortunately Aunt Janet did his way, and married her.'

339 386 not understand.

'Uncle had a right to do what he pleased 387 421 sessed," he read from the lawyer's letter. with his own,' said John defiantly. 'If he 388 422 'You might make a few inquiries through chose to cast off his son, for reasons which 389 423 the post. I rather imagine the Mexican he considered sufficient, he had the right.' 390 424 mail service is-n't very trustworthy,' sug'But you cannot cast off your son,' per- 391 425 gested Aunt Mary, hopefully. sisted Alice. 'John, we have a boy of our 392 426 own. You know that the obligation is one 393 427 for all eternity; you cannot get rid of 394 428 fatherhood.'

395 429

'O papa, papa, you hurt me,' squealed 396 430 little John, suddenly interrupted in his 397 431 philosophy-weaving.

398 432

He looked at her, but in abstracted fashion, as if it were not to Aunt Mary that he was listening.

'I'll write to this Oklahoma lawyer, and then I must go to Mexico.'

'Isn't it a little quixotic?'

'It's most likely all kinds of foolish'Confound it all!' cried John with sud- 399 433 ness, like everything else I do,' groaned the den irritation. 'Is n't this just like life! To 400 434 man. 'But it's what I'd want done for my hold out the rope, just to grab it away 401 435 little chap if I were dead and he alive, and again with a grin - I won't, I say. What is 402 436 I had quarreled with him. I suppose I mine is mine.' 403 437 could keep this money and save my skin,

'But it is n't yours.'

404 438 but'

'Did Frank have any children?' he 405 439 'You could n't keep it without finding asked. 406 440 out,' murmured Alice, 'because you are 'Several, I believe,' admitted Emily re- 407 441 you, and the real you is incapable of doing luctantly.

'And he never got on?'

'He never got on.'

408 442 a mean thing.'

409 443

'You must do as you think best,' said 410 444 Emily at last. 'Maybe, if you find Frank,

'And the twenty thousand might save 411 445 he won't want it all, but will divide, knowtheir pesky little Mexican souls.' 412 446 ing that his father willed it to you.'

The child's laughter rippled out across 413 447 the shocked silence of the elders.

"That may be as it may be,' said the 414 448 man, leaning back in his chair with the 'Maybe Uncle John left them some- 415 449 face of one listening. 'But I go to Mexico. thing,' suggested Emily. 'For a man who 416 450 It's a queer game we play here, and I'll tried such big things this does n't seem 417 451 be dashed if I can understand it, but I'm much money.' 418 452 going to play it as fairly as I know how.' So the voice of Alice won, of Alice,

419 453

-

Her brother shook his head. "The entire sum of which he stands pos- 420 454 who had been dead for five long years.

The Analysis by John Gallishaw

For the benefit of those readers who come upon this as the first of my "Cases in Craftsmanship," and to refresh the memory of others, I shall call attention again to my statement in former issues of THE WRITER that the only possible materials at the disposal of a short-story writer, or for that matter a writer of any form of fiction, long or

short, are Setting, Characterization, and incidents so arranged as to make a pattern or plot. At this stage in our technical progress in the writing of that special form which we call the modern short-story, it ought to be unnecessary to point out that a story is judged on three scores; Style, Significance, and Structural Form. It might be more