The Argosy, Vol. XI No. 19 — page 2: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

290 ‘We were dumfounded at the announcement, and filled with shame and indignation at such conduct from our own son, His heart- less neglect of Lily, and his perfidious behavior towards one who then held the supreme place in our affections, almost killed the parental love we had for him. I wrote him I never wanted to see him or lis wife.” ‘Surely he mentioned the widow’s name in hts letter to you,” inter- rupted Dash eagerly. ‘*No, my boy, he did not,” continued the old gentleman ; ‘‘and to convince you that such was the case, even after the lapse of over six- teen years, I think you will find that same letter among some old papers in the garret. Well, finally Lily died, and doubly bitter was the thought that our own son had undoubtedly hastened her death. For several years he was not mentioned by us; but as the event re- ceded in the past, and time softened our resentment, we would talk of that period before he went out West. We began to have an indefimable longing to see him apain before we died. But we never saw or heard of him for nearly ten years, and then it was only to read of his death in that railroad wreck at Lonewood Station on the Chicago & St. Louis Railroad, which you remember so vividly. ‘We did not see the account of that terribly fatal accident until several days after it occurred, and then it was too late for us toclaim the remains of our son and his wife before they were buried. Though I was the most unrelenting of the two toward him, and had declared I never would forgive him, or have anything to do with any one connected with his wife, I was the first to remember my son’s statement that that wife had achild when he married her. I immediately imstituted inquiries concerning him, the result of which you know,” ‘ And for which ultimate result I am deeply grateful,” added Dash, with much feeling. ‘* Aud now that IT know you have done so much for me, when you knew I was not of your own flesh and blood, I feel that I can never repay vou.” “You mustn't feel that way, Dash. Iam sure we would not have loved you more if you had been really our son’s child.” Thank you, grandfather ; and I am equally certain I could not have had a grandfather 1 loved more,” responded Dash fervefitly. “When Iam ina position to help you, 1 hope you will never hesitate to call on me should the necessity arise.” ‘TI shall not, Dashwood.” “Do you know,” continued the boy, after a pause, ‘SI never did have that affection for Mr. Dvkeman, your son, that I noticed in other boys who had fathers. I always supposed it was because I thought so much of my mother; but now the reason is plain.” “Instinct and nature are curious things, Dash, and cannot always be thwarted.” ‘No, I respected him, but I could not love him even though my mother endeavored to make me do so, [ do not see why she never told me of the true relationship.” ‘*She probably thought you were too young then, and no doubt in- fended to do so when you were older.” ‘That must be so,’ added Dash, feeling that she had fully intended doing so at the proper time. ‘* And there is another thing made clear,” he continued, as he raised in his fingers a small locket attached to his watch chain and pressed it open by the spring. ‘‘ This miniature beside my mother, which I could never fully delieve was that of my stepfather, must then be my own father.” ‘Yes, it must be, for it is not that of my son,” corroborated Mr. Dykeman, as he inspected the small photograph. ‘' T knew that when you first showed tt to us five years ayo." Dash gazed at the miniature with increased interest. As he once more noted the large, clear cut and handsome features, brought into prominence by the jet black mustache, and realized that it was his own father, a glow of pride suffused him, which was quickly succeeded by the chill conviction that the oripinal was dead, and that he could never know him as he lived. With a sigh of regret, he closed the locket, and, looking up at Mr. Dykeman, with a face from which had disappeared all signs of trouble and disappointment, he said seriously : ‘But he is dead, grandfather, and you and gra’ma are all T have, any way. I shall do my part, and shall not be an expense to you very much longer.” “ There is no need for haste, Dash, asI have said before. Take your time ; you are always welcome to what we have, and we shall always regard you as our own." THE ARGOSY “Thank you, grandfather: it will take a little time to look about and make my plans. Good night.” Dash warmly pressed Mr. Dykeman’'s hand, having a feeling of sympathy and manhood he had never felt befure, and ascended to his room, which was in the third story, front. The old fashioned furniture, and the familiar trifles and ornaments that a boy naturally gathers together, appeared strange as he looked about the apartment at them. They seemed to remind him more for- cibly of the happy, tranquil days he had passed in their company, and bring more distinctly to his mind the fact that he must soon bid them and his quiet life good by, perhaps forever. Dash seated himself at the emall, modest writing desk between the two front windows, and resting his elbows on the lid, with his face be- tween his hands, thought of all he had just heard. He had to confess that he felt some satisfaction in knowing Mr. Dykeman the younger was not his own father after all; and the more so, When he considered lis grandfather's story of his conduct. But the knowledge that his mother had married a second time was a sort of disappointment, he knew not why. It was only natural, after all, ina boy who had loved his mother as he had, to be dissatisfied with the idea that any one had shared her affections but his own father. He repretted to learn his grandfather was not his blood relative, but he felt, as he had said, he could not have Joved and respected him more had he been his own. He deplored the unfilial and perfidious conduct of his stepfather, and as he thought of all that had been done for him- self by the latter's parents, his heart warmed toward them with re- newed devotion, and he was filled with an ambition to show them his gratitude, He then thought what an odd thing it was that he did not know the name of his own father, and, with the idea that it might shed further light on the matter, he decided he would go up in the garret and make a search for the letter his grandfather had mentioned as having been written by his son from St. Louis so many years before. After ascending a ladder-like stair, and removing the covering to the scuttle that led tothe roof to pive lipht, Dash glanced about the attic. It had, no doubt, not been invaded for many years. Every- thing was white with dust, and cobwebs hung in festoons from joist and rafter. A collection of broken furniture, several barrels and two trunks were scattered about the apartment. In one of the latter Dash found a number of letters and old papers. Most of them were business letters and old receipts, but some were ‘loving epistles from Lily Woodbridge when she had been away from home. Dash reverently laid them aside, for they seemed to breathe of a tragedy to him, Finally he came to the letter he sought. It was rather short, and, as Mr. Dvkeman had said, made no mention of the widow's name. But Dash noted one thing his grandfather had failed to mention and had no doubt forgotten, At the bottom of the letter was the address, ‘No. 19 1-2 Morgan Street, St. Louis, Mo.” As the writer had pre- viously mentioned ino the letter that he was stopping at a boarding house, where the widow was also staying, No. 19 1-2 Morgan Street was undoubtedly the place, Was it probable, after the lapse of so many years, Dash asked him- self, that any information could) be obtained as to his mother’s name at the address given? It was very doubtful indeed. But even if he desired to make inguiry there, he did not know any one at that address to whom he could write, And more than likely the occupants of the house had changed many times since then. However, he determined he would make personal inquiry there if ever fortune led him to St. Louis, or furnished him with the means to reach that city. Putting the letter in his pocket, he closed the garret and descended to his room, He then set himself seriously to the consideration of the question of what he was to do to earn his own living. He had said there must be work somewhere for him to do. there ? Was CHAPTER VI. FIRST EXPERIENCES, ASH lost no time in making an effort to find employment the I) wages of which would at least pay his board. Though his stepfather had been a railroad man, and he himself had been more or less brought into contact with railroad men as far back as he could remember before he came to his prandfather’s to live, he did not GOnMGOOOKS (SO) fd