Life — September 2, 1909 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

312 elles; Stubbs ! Willet, standing there and shouting, could scarcely be- lieve his senses. Stubbs! The homeliest, most repulsive, red haired, scraggly, undersized human being that Willet knew. The idea that his wife had gone off with this man— wife, so refined, so altogether domestic and secluded her married life—for she seemed devoted to nothing else but home—should do this, was too much. It was almost ridiculous in its unrealit The baggage man said that the trunk was checked to buffalo, The next train was four hours later. Willet could make better time by going back over the Pennsylvania and connecting with the Central. He looked at his time table and found that he had an hour to wait before the Pennsylvania train was due He rode back home. whom he Suddenly he remembered Gumshaw, had scen sitting in his window as he passed by. Gumshaw knew everybody and everything that was going on. Maybe he could find out something from him He went to the telephone and called up Gumshaw. It cceurred to him that his own home was the better place, rather than Gumshaw’s office, where anybody was likely to drop in, Gumshaw put down his book when he got the message, after assuring Willet that he would be right over. “TM bet it’s about Stubbs," he soliloquized. “Well, I understand some things now that I didn't know about before.”” He hurried over to Willet “Did you know that my wife had gone off with Stubb: was Willet’s first greeting. “Read this'?; he handed Gum- shaw her note. Gumshaw read it silently and handed it back. “It's tough,"’ he replied. “1 am awful sorry.”” “Sit down. What do you know about it? I am going after them on the next train, and I thought you could prob- ably give me more information than anyone else in town. Don't hesitate. Speak up. Tell me what you know. “You went away about a month ago, didn't you? A little over three weeks."” “Well, they say that you hadn't been gone more than a few hours before Stubbs began calling at your place. He's been there every day since. And this is the result, That's all I know." “Then it's true’? Willet let the paper drop on the floor. “I can't believe it.’ umshaw leaned forward. A sudden idea, born of his experience and native energy, had occurred to him. “Why not?’ he asked. “ Because—why, the thing is out of all reason. If she had only taken a man! But a miserable, sneaking cur like that —why it simply can’t be.” “He's smart enough, isn't he? They say he's well off.”’ “That hasn't anything to do with it. Why, he's posi- tively repulsive. I remember the first time she saw him— she said to me at the time that she disliked him; she couldn't Lear the idea of having him near. Jt can't be."” said Gumshaw. “That's just the reason, “Just the reason? “Sure. It’s because he's different. She just took a notion to him. He was so darned homely, so blamed repulsive, that he probably fascinated her It’s a com- mon thing.”? Willet looked at his watch. “I'm off for that next train,’ he said, with his face set. “You've got lots of time—twenty or thirty minutes. You're in a hurry What are you going to do?” “T'm going after them, of course “What for?" “What for! Why I'm going to kill that cur.’” “What for?" “ Because he deserves it.”” “How do you know he does? “Oh, there’s no use talking to me," exclaimed Willet wildly, “I’m in no mood for an argument. Wait till I see them. Wait——"* Now just wait. Gumshaw got up and shut the door. He had a square jaw, and he never let go of an idea when it once took possession of him. “Now look here, Mr. Willet,"” he said ness. You're a big man.”” “How big—what do you mean?” “T mean in your thought. his thing has rattled you— but let’s look at it as a business proposition. You have been married eight years, haven't you? "’ Yes.” “And you have had a happy married life “And it's all over with. “Well? “Well, why jump in now on the spur of the moment, and make things worse? Your wife has run off with another man. What of it? It’s a tragedy, of course. But you're a man, and you've got to stand it. Suppose you follow them up and kill him—what good will jt do? Absolutely noth- ing, except that you will have to stand trial. It will cost you all you've got and land you in jail. Don't go off hali- cocked. Your wife can’t help herself. She is obeying a perfectly common pathological impulse.”* “How do you know?"’ “Because I've scen lots of such cases. She lived with you a normal life for cight years. She was really asleep. he thought she loved you, but she didn’t. Suddenly—due to some hidden racial impulsc—she meets a red-haired, scraggly thing with diamond eyes, and is irresistibly attracted to him. He feels the same way toward her. Very well. Why should you interfere, just because, eight years ago, some function- ary made you sign an agreement? Pshaw! Can't you see that you have no right to interfere with what is really her privilege? You may say that you owe a duty to socicty to bring the guilty ones down. I say no. You owe a duty to her and to yourself. As the case stands at present, there are three people, two of whom have started out to be happy at the immediate expense of the third, who, in a short time, will readjust himself to the changed conditions and be a bigger and better man for this larger view of life. But sup- pose this third man tries to change the course of things by an unnatural interference? Thea all of you will be ruined. Don't resist the inevitable. Let ‘em live their lives out. Remember that for eight years she made you happy, at- tended to your wants, and don’t hold it up against her now that she has only obeyed a call beyond her power to prevent.” Gumshaw’s voice was eloquent. Willet listened in spite of himself. There was a pause. Willet was fighting it out. “You're right," he said at last. “I hadn't thought of it in that way. It’s the dignified thing, isn’t it, to let 'em go?” Nothing surer. You can’t make things different. If they have done wrong, be sure they will get their innings. All you have to do is to stand aside and forget it.’ “T can’t live here.” Gumshaw’s cyes glistened. “Certainly not. Pull up and go away. Give ‘em a divorce if they want it—which, of course they will, after this first fever has passed away. Get rid of ‘em in the only man ner possible. Let ‘em live their own lives, and you pick up yours where it has been broken off, and make it over again West. You can get a separation all right. He has money anyway. He'll take care of her, and if he doesn’t, why that's no funeral of yours.” “That's right.’’ Willet looked around at the walls, hung with memories of cight years. “Can you sell this place?" he asked. Gumshaw reflected, He stroked his face thoughtfully. “It’s an off season,” he said. “I suppose you want to get rid of it—if you can.’” Yes. I hate the thought of it. down.” Sure you do. Well, I want to help you can, Let's see, it cost you?” “Ten thousand.” “Without the furniture?" (Continued on page 314.) let’s get down to I feel like burning it TN do all T comicbooks.com