The Temple Daily Telegram (Temple, Tex.), Vol. 3, No. 206, Ed. 1 Saturday, July 16, 1910 Page: 4 of 8
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Lamented Stevenson's Stepson Takes High
Is Destined to Become a Classic.
EXPLOITS TWO CONTRASTING PHASES OF LIFE WITH PICTURESQUE BRILLIANCY
tloU.
i ass Eyed
Bill
By Lloyd Osbourne
HF was plainly new to God's country nn<1 showed it by his artless contempt of
Cixl s own The stage Uropjied him at the dusty crossroads, disappearing In
the direction of what a rust.v notice said was Watsonville. while the erstwhile
passenger gazed blankly at another on which was the half obliterated luscrip-
"El Nido Hanch."
Captain Anstruther was unused to a scheme of things whore a ready fellowship
count' (1 for more than money. All his life people had automatically risen to carry his
luggage. move him in the proper direction and answer generally for his comfort and
wf-II lielng. To tind himself on a dusty road in the heart of a wild and lonely country, an
orphan traveler, so to sjieak, with nobody to take care of him but himself—was it any
wonder thaf Captain Claude George Pennifield Anstruther looked somewhat depressed
or that the tails of his puggaree drooped limply In the ambient air of the Golden State?
Captain Claude George Pennifield Anstruther regarded his dressing case, dispatch
box. hat box. portmanteau, gun case, portable bath and roll of steamer rugs with a
dawning sense that British solidity and dead weight might be carried too far. He was
even more of this opinion by the time he had conveyed these articles to the shelter of
some adjacent chaparral and Bad lopped off (with the help of the ktiife with the folding
sp<«on, the gluilet, saw and sailor's needle) enough dusty branches to hide them from the
gaze of possible passershy.
This accomplished, he set off In no very rosy frame of mind to follow the road to
El Nido ranch. A mile—two miles—and then he came in sight of some straggly red
buildings on a hill. The captain pegged away. The red buildings grew redder and
larger One of them, almost a factory for size, curtly informing him In letters ten feet
high that it wa* a wluery.
He knew now that he had arrived at his destination. lie struck off a little to the
right, where a good sized private house, surrounded by a paling fence, obviously sheltered
the owner or foreman of the ranch. The privacy of this place wns protected by a l>oard
which said succinctly "Keep Out." Hut the Englishman, undeteivd by the warning,
kept on and strode up the gravel walk to the rose embowered porch beyond.
He tramped up the three steps leading to the porch like a mule battery going Into
action. Hut the stillness remained unbroken, save by any noise but his own.
He lookisi about In perplexity until at last, in the darkest and farthest corner, he
detected a hammock and saw, not without relief, that it was occupied by a recumbent
figure. He went over to it. still In his heavy, soldierly fashion, and looked down on—
well, what In his own words he used to describe afterward as "'Pon my soul, the
most beautiful creacha 1 was ever privileged to gaze upon—gad. a girl of twenty, with
her lips « little parted on the whitest teeth you ever saw, and her breath coming and
going as faint as a baby's In a cot, and beauty—why. It was like seeing the Taj Mahal
by moonlight—the same Indescribable what-d'ye-callum, you know, when something
seems to take you by the throat and you gasp, my boy, positively gasp!"
She was dressed in silvery gray, with a wide lace collar about her neck, and In her
thick, rumpled chestnut hair there lay a single red carnation. She was as fresh id
sweet and exquisite as the flower Itself, and In contrast to the dust and heat without
the sight of her was as refreshing as a splashing pool In the depths of a woody canyon.
The captain after his first moment of surprise began to wonder what steps he ought to
take to awaken her. Every Instinct as a gentleman bade him to cough, so be coughed,
at first so gently that It was almost a lullaby and then by degrees rising to an honer.t,
growling bulldoggish cough that seemed to say, "Wake up, confound you!"
At last she stirred and opened her eyes and met those of the stranger looking down
at her He said hastily, "I lies your pardon." and betrayed enough agitation to spill a
box of sweets and a half opened novel from the clialr beside him. The girl sat up In the
hammock, still gazing at hint with astonishment, and asked him who lie was and where
he came from.
"My name Is Anstruther." he said, picking chocolate creams off the floor.
She smiled at him without saying a word.
"You are, 1 presume. Miss Helen Jeffrey?" he went on.
She showed the least little sign of embarrassment and colored perceptibly as she
assented witlj a movement of her head.
"Extraordinary!" ejaculated the captutn. "Most extraordinary!"
"Why?" she asked.
It was the captain's turn to look put out.
"I'm not accustomed to awaken the young ladles I call on," he said. "I pride myself
on being a man of the world, but positively for once I felt myself staggered."
"There was my side of It, too." she said.
They both laughed, and the captain asked permission to take a chair. He could
be a very agreeable man when he eliose, and It was plain that he was choosing. His
manner was almost too Ingratiating, and Helen could not but wonder Inwardly what he
was after.
"My business—Is rather with your father," he said.
"He's at the Hot Springs, sick," she said. "I'm running the winery for him. Can't
you make roe do?*'
"You don't mean to si* that you are In charge of this whole establishment?" he
e" Maimed.
"Gli. yes. I'm boss here." she returned, "though, of course, I have pa on the wire,
if v What can I do for you, captain? We'll only be too glad to make an opening
'•* our wines—that Is, If your rating is good and you represent responsible
"Oh. It Isn't wine," said the captain hastily. "It's—It's something very different!"
"You can ring up pa In the next room." she said helpfully. "Call up long distance and
ask for Byron Hot Springs."
"It Isn't the kind of tiling yoti can very well telephone." said the captain.
"Then you'd better chase him up to Byron." remarked the young lady.
"But you're In It. too." explained Anstruther. "It's really more you than anybody.
I've come from England just to see you."
"Me?" she cried.
"Yes, you." said the captain. "Haven't you a man employed here called Gray, an
Englishman like myself -a gentleman—though he fills, 1 understand, rather a subordinate
position?"
"Oh. yes." she said, "only he's mostly called Hill, you know. I should say he Is here-
very much here, Indeed!"
"Ills real name is William Charles Hepwortb St. John Gray," said the captain Im-
pressively.
"Well, all he's got left of that is his eyeglass," she said. "That's why the boys called
liim Glass Eyed Bill, you know."
It took the captain a little time to get over the shock.
"1 have a particular reason to know all about Mr. Gray," he said at last.
She gave him a very searching look. The captain did not suffer from such a mute
Interrogation, and his straight, honest gaze reassured her. Something about hiiu was
Indefinably reminiscent of Bill.
"When he first blew in here," said the girl, "he was the most forlorn, hopeless,
tattered thing you ever saw. Ah Sue gave him something to eat on the doorstep—Ah Sue
has s heart like melted butter, >ou kuow— and I happened to b« passing through the
kitchen and saw him there-."
, Captain Anstruther looked depressed.
"Of course the trouble with BUI was that he drank," she continued.
"Olt. he did everything." assented the captain comprehensively.
"He's on the water wagon now." she remarked; "been there for a year and a half-
Is going to stay too." '
'V ater wagon * Inquired the captain "Is that the vernacular for—for"—
I mean I have reformed him." she explained "I guess you wouldn't know Bill now
He has money in the bank and drinks coffee with his meuls."'
Tlie '-n|>t«In looked more <lepre*sed than ever.
"1 «up|wse we ought all to thank you." he said. "Yes. Indeed, we are verv grateful
to you."
"J don't wsnt you to think 1 am Just a little angel." she went on. "or that I go
around radiating reform like n tawn sprinkler sprinkling. I'm quite a believer In letting
jie-pie rniud their own business. But, you see. In this case. Bill brought It on hl^own
'.lend."
"That's where he usually bCbnght things." said the captain, "often pretty hard toflf
It never was a nipping kind of man. thank goodness." she said, "but he used to go
o otj what im ra<!tf! a hiennkil Irast. !!*» had here Ave months and a iwrtef-t
pattern before we got on to it. PH at last made hint the dago foreman, yon know and
we we* really beginning to rbhik we had found our long lost child. He was always so
pobte you know nod hard working and reliable. and he Just snuggled into the place
like a dogJl.at: n followed you home. I'a said it wns nit too good to be true, and 1 guess
pa was risht for «me In it Sunday afternoon u ,Uan came running In to say that Bill was
fisrhtlig drunk and «'»« waltzing around the yard with a pistol to shoot Mr Jackson wt,h
'"■mr chemist you know, and exis-rt winemaken and that he was drawing beads on any-
body ttuit tried to stop iiftu. Even while he was talking we heard bang, bang ban" out
there, and Mr. Jackson came pelting |n „ke a jack rabblt-not a bit burt. >0u know.' but
* * 'fr*°° 00 ' "Inking ship Wanting to catch the last boat. I started upstairs to L-et
under the bed but 1 hadn't got up a step Wore 1 taw pa reaching for his Winchester
L Ml" I! ,'!* badxeoo Hi*. |;..;el of his coat I knew that was the end
of UUJ, and It came over me 1 couTBu't bear •> buv# hlffl Mlefl-he was tuO Big aud
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AH SUE GAVE HIM SOMETHING TO EAT.
splendid to be shot down like a dog, and, anyhow, I had never liked Jackson since he
hud tried to kiss me once at a dance—ftnd so 1 just ran out to t>e« if something couldn't
be done.
"I tell you. Bill looked eight feet high, and his eyes were bloodshot and crazy, and
he kind of sobbed when he breathed— aud If you ever looked down the wrong end of a
frontier Colt you can imnglne my feelings for yourself. But I went straight up to blm
and wrested his gun away and stood In front of him, so pa couldn't shoot him from the
house. Fine? I should say It was—nobody was more surprised than roe, I'm sure, and
I'm surprised now. ltut I guess I knew pretty well Bill wouldn't have hurt me for the
world, though, looking back on It, I can't see how I didn't choose underneath the bed.
"Well, I led blm hack to the bunkhouse and made him sit down on the wooden steps.
The tears were rollinc down his face, and I felt too sorry for him to say a word. They
say a girl always loves a bad man—not that Bill was really bad, you know—only unfor-
tunate that h® should have complicate^ his biennial bust with a quarrel with Jackson.
"When Bill saw pn prancing toward us he begged like mad for the pistol to kill himself
with, and I almost felt like giving It to him when he talked about wearing stripes and
perhaps being gent up for years. But I felt sure I could handle pa, and. anyway, Bill
was sort of my dog, you know, and I wasn't going to let anybody hurt him. But I had
a tough time with pa. I*a is such a stickler for law and order. Wanted to take him off
to the county seat and lay a felony charge against him. ne hadn't been deputy sheriff
very long, you see, and was doing new broom. Then Bill made It worse by saying It
was all about a woman—never mentioning that I was the woman—and Jackson had said
something— Well, BUI was such a gentleman that be wouldn't bring my name Into It;
said 'woman.' like that, till I wonder pa-didn't burst.
"It was then I felt wbat training can do for a man—with pa, I mean—and how wise
I had been to always keep the upper band of him. He was determined to settle Bill out
of hand—was positively prejudiced against him—and for a time It looked as though I was
nowhere in the scrimmage. And 1 think he was cut up. too, about my liking Bill so
well, for, of course (didn't I tell you?), Bill was Just pllly about me—always had been
since Ah Sue gave him that chicken tamale on the doorstep—wore things next his heart,
and all that, and thought anything sacred I had ever touched. The whole ranch Is a
sort of church to Hill, you know. Well, as I said, pa was awful. He paced up and
down like a royal Nubian lion, while I,,with my heart in my mouth, did I.ittle Spangles
In the wild beasts' cage. Little Spanjstes won out of course, though once or twice It
was a pretty close call. But at last pa quieted down and went off, quite mild, to find
Mr. Jackson. But he didn't find Mr. Jackson. Nobody ever has. I think he must have
changed his name and quit the country. If you had ever been up against BUI I guess
you'd have done It too. Anyway, peace descended like a beautiful dream, and Bill stayed
dago foreman Instead of Rolng Into the J*te business at San Quentin prison.
"That's all more than a year old now, and BUI has never been on a tear since. That
was his last biennial bust, for now, of course, he has got something to live for, and It's
nil different, and he's become one of the little saints of the Y. M. C. A. They say he's
the pinkest thing in the room when he gets up and does solemn warning, though I think
It's rather fine of him, don't you? And the fun of It is that he runs a boxing class there,
too, and punches their little heads off afterward. Oh, Bill's a great boy, and they're
going to make bim president! Oh, denr, when once I get started talking about Bill I
never seem to know when to stop! Why do you look so grave, captain? Aren't you
pleased ?"
"I have something to say about Bill., too," he'returned slowly.
"His early life and his early scrapek" she said, "and how you don't believe It will
last? There isn't much about Bill I don't already know—his being sent away from
England and how they never wanted to see him again."
"I am out here to take him back," said the captain.
"He wou't go easy," said the girl.
"I am not so sure," said the captain. "Circumstances have altered. I don't see very
well how lie can refuse. 1—we—the family, I mean, are delighted to hear that he has
retrieved himself and risen superior to the boyish follies that threatened to engulf blm.
I.et me express to you our deep sense of obligation—our gratitude—for your evident
kindness to him at a time when he needed It most."
"1 don't think I care to receive the family gratitude." she answered coolly. "What
did they ever do for BiH but give him the cold shoulder from the time he was left an
orphan at twelve? Sent him to Eton and Oxford as a preparatory step to giving him
£1.(100 and telling hiui to scoot You can Imagine how well equipped he was to strike
out for himself. Couldn't even spell English till 1 got after him with a speller and had
to work nights before he would write a page without at least six schoolboy mistakes."
"He was given his chance," said the captain, "and, like many another, he wouldn't
fake It. He was put Into a good regiment and received an allowance that, with economy,
would bave amply sufficed to let him hold his head up. Then he went the pace and was
forgiven. Then he went the pace again and wasn't Jig has no right to complain."
"Oh. but he doesn't!" she exclaimed hastily. "X wouldn't have you think that for
anything!"
"But you seem to do It for hint." said the captain.
"1 don't suppose my opinion matters particularly."
"Well. It was enough to bring me from England." said the captain. "What you think
or don't think has suddenly become of great Importance to many people."
"Don't you think it is about time to tell me why?" she asked. "Y'ou have hinted and
hinted till 1 feel like a person iti a detective story, and 1 no sooner seem to touch some-
thing than you continue it in the next niftnber."
"Did Bill ever tell ,vou of his first cotwin. Lord Tranton ?"
"Only that he held down the title and was the dead Image of the postmaster at Las
Vegas Nev<*t passes there but he says. 'Look at that tallow faced, wall eyed old'
"Hush!" said the captain. "I.ord Tranton is dead!"
"Head!"
"His two s6ns with him and Lady Grace Morrison—William's aunt you know. All
killed In the terrible lift uecident at the Hotel des Hesperldes In Nicer
"Well. 1 am sorry," she said as Anstruther gazed steadfastly at her as though
expecting she knew not what. "Sorry for anybody that gets killed, you know especially
in an elevator." /
-' ' ,• i) '
"Don't you realize how it will affect William?'
"Oh, he'll be terribly cut up about bis aunt! She was the only person who was ever
kind to him—the only one In Eugland be ever wrote to—or wrote to I.
"This makes hitn Lord Tranton," said the captain.
"I suppose It does," she said. "I bail never thought of that."
"We've thought of It a good deal," said Austruther.
"Lord Tranton," she repeated. "Then won't bis—bis wife be Lady TrsntonT"
"That's Just It, you see," said the captain. "She will be Lady Tranton."
"What do you mean by 'it?' " said tin- girl.
"You'll hardly believe It." said the captain, disregarding her question, "but for a time
we didn't know where under the sun to tind bltn. Then somebody said about Lady Grace,
you know—I believe It was her maid or housekeeper—and we went over all her letters to
try to g, t track of bltn."
"Well, you've succeeded," she remarked as be hesitated.
"We got on the track of something else," he went on significantly. "It seemed-"
Indeed, there was no doubt about It—his affections—er—were seriously engaged—er—to a
young lady—er"—
' Me, i suppose." she said quite calmly.
"Yes, you," he returned, "though It Is only fair to William to say that his lettertwera
expressed -er—with considerable reserve—with what you rolgbt call perfect respect, you
know, and all that kind of thing."
'Of course I know that!" she exclaimed.
|'It was very alarming," said the captain.
' W ho for? For you or the young lady or Hill?"
The captain tugged at his yellow mustache.
"I must really beg your Indulgence," he suld at last. "I am sure the very last thing
In the world I wish to do Is to offend you. 1 had hoped, as I told you, to discuss the
matter first with your father."
"We'll just leave pa out." site said. "It's me that Bill's In love with—not pa J"
"Still. It's very awkward," murmured the captain—"very awkward."
|'So you read Bill's letters and got quite discouraged." she said, smiling.
"lie seemed on the verge of committing an—er—Irrevocable mistake," said the captala.
"Is that how you'd describe hi* marrying me?" she asked.
There was a pause.
"Frankly—yes," said the captain.
"There are people here who think the Irrevocable mistake might be the other way,1*
she remarked.
"Then, my dear young lady." he went on briskly, "the people here have your true
Interests at heart. Believe me, there can be no lasting happiness In a union that Involves
a great Inequality of station. It Is currently said that a man raises his wife to his own
level, but a knowledge of the world teaches us that only too often he—er—sinks to hers."
"Bill seems quite satisfied to sink," she returned. "In fact he's been in a panic lest
he wouldn't get the chance!"
"The Bill of yesterday and the BUI of today are two different men," said the captain.
"He has now a great place to fill. He becomes the head of one of the proudest and most
aristocratic families In England. It would lie too unutterably sad If lie failed In the
duty he owes both to his class and to his rank."
"His class and his rank never bothered very much about him out here," she said.
"They seemed quite happy, In fact to be quit of him. He might have starved to death
for all they cared!"
"I know we lay ourselves open to that Imputation," went on the captain In a tone of
depressed suavity. "But as the dear duke said In the family council we held at Holder-
ton Abliev, circumstances alter cases."
"It's not Bill they're thinking about," she said. "It's their noble and splendid selves'*
"They cannot very well detach themselves from the affair, even if they would."
continued the captain. "Tranton's disgrace Is necessarily theirs."
"If the dear duke doesn't want to know me, he needn't" she retorted with a height-
ened color. "If he doesn't want to play In ray yard, he can always have the arlstocratlo
privilege of staying out"
"Then there's the dowager Lady Tranton." said the captain, "Bill's stepmother."
"She. too, then," said the girl.
"She really feels It more than anybody." sighed the captain. "The same name, yoa
know The possibility of mistakes being made—the Inevitable confusion of"—
"It's Just what you said before, captain." she exclaimed mockingly. "It's too unutter-
ably sad. Isn't It?"
"I know lam expressing myself very badly," he said. "I am making a terrible mess
of It. Just as Whltcombe said I would."
"It was certainly a long way to come Just to talk to a girl," she said.
"And then to do It so badly," added the captain.
"I can't see It's any of their business!" she exclaimed.
"I was charged to offer-Inducements." said the captain, with embarrassment.
"Inducements? What sort of Inducements?"
"Oh. 1 am almost ashamed to say—er—of a monetary nature."
"Well, you ought to be," she said. "How much?"
"Whltcomlie said I was to begin at £5.000."
"The point Is where were you to leave off at7" '
"Ten thousand!"
"Why didn't you say It sooner?"
"The fact Is—er—the dear duke thought—cr—Whltcombe said"—
"That you might pull It ofT without?"
The captain hung his head.
"They must have thought you more of a spellbinder than yon are." she remarked
cruelly.
"I told Whltcombe myself I was the last man to talk anybody Into doing anything,"
said the captain.
"Well, It's not enough for Bill," said the girl. "The price of a thing Is what It's worth
to you. Bill's worth lots more than that—to me."
"I will make It fifteen thousand." said the captain besltatingly-"that la, on my own
personal responsibility, subject to confirmation by wire."
"Where's the thing for me to sign?" she asked.
He drew rait from his breast pocket a large. Important looking document engrossed
on sheepskin. It crackled richly as he opened It and spread It flat with bj|s big hands.
It was beautifully glossy, and Helen thought Magna Charta must have ftxtked like It
when It was new. She lay back In the hammock, took a chocolate cream and gave It
her disdainful attention. Bill was renounced with a wealth of legal detail that was
positively bewildering; renounced from his head to his heels; renounced awake or sleep-
ing or dining out or sitting up with a sick friend; renounced body and soul, alive or
dead, positively and explicitly for all time. past, present or to come. She couldn't even
say good morning to Bill without violating two whole pages of It; she couldn't even send
him a post card without Incurring fourteen lines of different kind of penalties, and the
whole thing was Inexplicably intertwined with the lord chancellor's displeasure and the
high court of chancery. It reminded Helen, In the prefuseness of Its reprobation, of the
curse of the Jackdaw of Rhelms.
"You are to sign at the places marked In pencil," said the captain, who had been
watching her out of the corner of hia eye and who took It for a good sign that she bad
read It with care and patience.
Helen gazed at him and then shook her head.
"I wouldn't give Bill np for all the money In England!" she exclaimed. "1 wouldn't
Slve Bill up If you threw In the crown Jewels! I wouldn't give him up If yon added
Westminster abbey and the Tower of London and the beefeaters and Q" place wbere
Shakes pea re was born!"
The captain slowly took back the document and folded It up.
I'1 suppose there Is nothing more to be said," be remarked.
"«m bnt. t,bere ls " 8be retorted mlschlevoualj. "I think it's about time to tell yv.
Kill tod I were married yesterday.**
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Williams, E. K. The Temple Daily Telegram (Temple, Tex.), Vol. 3, No. 206, Ed. 1 Saturday, July 16, 1910, newspaper, July 16, 1910; Temple, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth472167/m1/4/: accessed July 17, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Abilene Library Consortium.