TWO CHRISTMAS EVES.

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 4, Issue 125, 24 December 1915, Page 2 (Supplement)

TWO CHRISTMAS EVES.

Aa the door ot the private room closed bemud the young man with tne wmie tace, twitching ups, and bowed suouideis. tue junior partner or Marlow and uicayer, West India merchants, let out a ualf-suangied cath. "Alarlow, you're a soft-hearted tooll" Ue Bald harshly, "if ever were was a case lor prosecution you nad it yonder. 1 heiu my peace because of your seniority, but —Paul He broke off in disgust and flung himself ouck in hu chair, tumbling at nis cigarette case. TUe senior partner was wiping his eyes. "1 couldn't do it Lockyer; 1 simply couldn't do it," he said unsteadily, though not apologetically. "1 couldn't rum a young teilow so utterly at the beginning of his career—nor could you." "Me?" snapped Lockyer. "But for you he would have been on his way to the police-station by now. 1 draw the line at encouraging dishon"but—he confessed."

"Alter he realised that he was. sus. pected! 1 tell you, Marlow, it was our duty to have him punished." "Ah, Lockyer," said the older man with a sigh, "don't be afraid that he won't be punished. Think of the shame—the struggle—before him. Where can he find employment without a character, without a reference? i m bitterly sorry tor Dennison. I always liked the boy." "xou always like everybody. You hare no discrimination, no judgment. The wonder is that you have not been swindled right and left."

Mr. Marlow did no; seem to hea'. ••Lockyer," he said softly, "it is Christmas Eve." The junior partner—a man of five and thirty—gave a short laugh. "X was wondering when you were going to mention that most extenuating circumstance! Unfortunately, to my plain mind, crime on Christmas Eve la just the same as «...me on any other afternoon." "That is very true," the other sad. ly admitted. "But if one cannot be merciful on Christmas Eve—eh, Lockyer?" Lockyer, lighting his cigarette, merely grunted impatiently. "What is to happen to the boy?" Marlow whispered. Abruptly he rose, stepped to tne door, and opening it an inch stood listening. "Feeling like giving him a tenpound note and your blessing?" Mr. U>ckyer ironically enquired. The older man winced, but did not retort. Presently he increased the opening of the door and peered out. The office was dimly lit by a single light. The staff had left an hour ago —all save the disgraced clerk. And he was departing now, after having collected a few personal belongings from hla desk. His hand was groping, seemingly, tor the handle of the door—the familiar door which was about to shut him out lor ever from the place he had entered three years previously, bo full of youthful ambition, so determined to satisfy his employer. Something like a sob escaped his labouring breast. as his fingers at last turned the handle the senior partner came quickly along the passage. Dennison,' he said in a husky whisper, "what are you going to The young man shook his head, unable to utter a word. "I—l can't let you go like this," •aid Mr. Marlow. "Will you come back here in half-an-houv? 1 wish to speak to you—iu private. Promise me you'll come back."

"I happen to have a wife and young children," he would remind his colleague; but this was perhaps more an excuse than a reason, for he had been born cautious. Moreover, he knew that the argument appealed to the older man as no other argument of his could be expected to do.

With an effort the yo'.ug man controlled himself and spoke. "Let me go, air." , , "Promise me you'll come back—in half-an-hour. I shall bo aloir then'

"Very well," Marlow would say, good-humouredly, "we'll reduce the present stakes; but all the same, Lockyer, he would add, "we have got to take risks—big risks —in this concern of ours. I've been in it longer than you, and I know. Things are going easily at present, but there will be years—as there have been years in the past—when no risks will simply spell no business."

There was a pause. "Very wclT, sir. 1 promise." Concerning that interview in the deserted office, amid the stillness of Christmas Eve, Mr. Marlow would fain have kept silence, but he could not refuse to answer the questions of his partner when the latter returned from his holiday. "Believe me, Lockyer," he said gently, "Dennlson is truly repentant; but apart from that, he has a mother —" "An Invalid, bedridden mother, no doubt!" was Lockyer's dry remark. "And be was her sole support, I suppose." : i-* Marlow; flushed slightly. "No; 1 didn't gather that she was an invalid, and he informed me that he has two brothers who are able to keep her in fair comfort. But, Lockyer, think of the awful wrecking of happiness and hope' that would have taken place had he gone home with the news of his—his disgrace. . . . And on Christmas Eve, too! For God's sake don't laugh, man! Can't we have one night in the year when there is real peace on earth —" The other did not laugh, but his voice was cold. "A beautiful sentiment, Marlow, but I can't rise to it. You might as well tell me that a bill need not be paid because it happens to fall due on the 24th of December! However, 1 daresay you would have treated Dennlson in similar fashion had he been found guilty on fhe Ist of April! Well, 1 suppose it is no use arguing the point, my friend, but if we all had your ideas, dishonesty would soon be at a premium."

The senior partner held up his hand. "I ought to tell you that 1 begged Dennison tp way nothing to his people. In his misery and shame he was about to confess everything." "And what else did you do to make things easy for him?" "I suggested that he should tell his people that Marlow and Lockyer found it necessary to decrease their staff, and " "Oh. Lord!" exclaimed the Jucier partner, abruptly. "What next? By the way." he asked abruptly, •"has the case no redeeming feature? Did not Dennison take the £7S to help a friend, or something of the sort?" Marlow hesitated, then shook his head. 'l'm sorry I can't say 'yes' to that. He told me he had got into difficulties simply through personal extravagance. One moment, Lockyerl It would have been easy enough for Wm to have blamed it on a friend. Jtfy hopes for bis futu • rose when

A KINDLY ACT ■ - - AND ITS SEQUEL,

J. 1. BELL, in "The Weekly Scotsman."

he ol'feied no excuse." "And you lortnwita presented him with a certificate oi good character, 1 suppose?" "iou go too far," said the older man, angered at last, but his voice softened in tbe next sentence. "Lockyer, i nave neither wiie nor child, and 1 can only imagine the feelings of a latner. but you have a peaceful home, with little boys and girls, and you are iresn from the experience of a happy Christmastime. Would you wilnugiy have any young man ruined, any uoine blighted "Sentiment, sentiment, Marios.." Lockyer sat up. "1 tell you that if a son of mine did what Dennison has done. 1 "

"Don't say it. my friend! Don't even imagine it! You don't know what you would do. Try now simply to believe that Dennison is being punished, though not by the law. It is right that the law should punish, yet 1 am convinced that there are timea when humanity stirs the conscience, whereas the law would merely kill it. At any rate, Lockyer, don't judge my action in this matter just yet. Just wait and see what happens to Dennison." The other shrugged his shoulders. "I think we shall hear of Dennison again," continued Marlow, picking up a paper-knife and toying with it. "1 advised him to try his fortune abroad —to go as soon as possible. No; I could not give him references or introductions. I could not feel responsible for him to other people. Still •" "Have his people got the money to spare to send him abroad?" interrupted Lockyer. "I'm afraid not. But " "Then if he has the money in his possession, it must be handed over to us in reduction of his—h'm! — debt to. the firm." "He is—was quite penniless, Lock, yer." Thera was a short silence. Then — "Marlow, how much money did you give him?" »i—i wanted to give the boy a chance —to make a fresh start." "How much?" "It would have been no use his going abroad with nothing behind him. And then it—it was Christmas Eve. Of course, I drew the cheque on my personal account." The older man stammered in his speech. "I'd rather you didn't ask " "In the circumstances I think 1 have a right to know, Marlow. . . How much did you give; Dennison?" "A —a hundred pounds." "Good God'" said the junior partner. 11, But for all the uncongen : al natures of its partners the firm of Marlow and Lockyer went on and prospered. Perhaps the difference in temperament, the clashing of {Seas, were providential in a way. A mere onlooker would have said that they were. Certainly there were occasions when the hard head of Mr. Lockyer—to leave his heart out of the question—seemed needed to balance the daring mind of his senior; for Mr. Marlow was by no means averse from speculative transactions, which, it must nevertheless be admitted, generally turned out on the right side. Still, if Mr. Lockyer lessened the probable gains by putting on the brake, he also lessened the possiblbe losses, and he was a man who always looked first to the latter.

Lockyer,' however, had convinced himself that his partner was wrong, that satisfactory profits might always be secured without any extraor. dinary hazards. And this was the rock on which—though neither suspected it for years—the partnersmp was destined to split. Yet the collision might have been longer avoided, or altogether averted, had there been only a little sentiment and sympathy on Lockyer's part. There are men who will not —or cannot —give something for nothing, who "regard as fools and weaklings those that do so. Again and again Lockyer would have quarrelled outright with Marlow had the latter failed in soft answers. Now it was the case of an elderly clerk who ought to be got rid of because )a thjlrd part oi his 'salary would pay for the same work done better by a young man; now that of a young clerk who had cost the firm money through a stupid blunder which merited nothing but dismissal; now that of an agent of the firm on ■a West Indian island, who begged home-leave three months before it was due, lest he should not see his father alive —an unjustifiable request, seeing that the agency had not yet begun to pay. But the rases over which the partners differed need not be enumerated here. They occurred frequently, and the accompanying friction did not decrease with repetition. Lockyer became more and more irritated by what he termed Marlow's unbusinesslike methods; Marlow hegaoi ,to experience an increasing sense of disgust at Lockyer's apparent lack of common humanity. Something like a crißis was reached ou a certain morning, nearly seven years from the date of our first meeting with Marlow and Lockyer. Mariow looked up from a, letter consisting of a few lines which he had taken from an eiUidopi! bearing a foreign postmark. His countenance was radiant

"Lockyer! What do you think of this I've beard from Dennison at last!" "Dennison? Who is—Oh, you mean the thief?" The other winced. "Let that be forgotten. I always believed he wpuld redeem Eimsejf."

"Has he written to say so?" "He has returned the firm's money, and the money that 1 gave him—with interest!" cried Marlow in a tone of triumph. "Now what have you to say?"

Lockyer gave his shoulders a shrug. "Let us hope he came by it honestly," he said coolly. "Does he mention its source?" Marlow made a movement as if he had been stung. "Confound you!" he exclaimed, "are you as devoid of justice as you were of mercy? Won't you give Dennison any credit at an.''' "If you wish me to do so, I'll see that he gets credited in the books against the record of his defalcations."

The older man drew in his breath. He restrained himself with difficulty. At last he said:—"Lockyer, if Dennison were to enter, this room now, what would you do; ' "Give him a receipt for the money?"

"Nothing else?" "What else should I give him?" "Your hand, your goodwill—" "Oh, rot, Marlow! It isn't Christmas Eve, you know!" Marlow's countenance flushed red and pale. "Lockyer!" he said passonately, "you re a tool —a heartless fool!" Which was scarcely the criticism expected by tne junior partner.

bix months later came tne spin. There was no quarrel, .uarlow nmulyt declared that ne nad nad enough of non-speculauve, humdrum business. He would retire, and spend the next few years of nis leisure in seeing the world. Lockyer did his best to conceal his gratification at the prospect of running the business alone under the old name, but by no means on the old lines. They parted on quite amicable terms. They would in all probability not meet again. The last ties were severed by the paying out of the retiring partner's capital. Marlow had suggested that this might be done by instalments, but Lockyer, thirsting for independence, tound the large sum required by borrowing it. * ♦ * 111. The most sociable member of the Argentine liner's passengers had cornered the most retiring member in the smoke-room.

"I have just had it from the captain himself," he announced, dropping upon the divan, "that we shall positively be in London on the morning of Christmas Eve!' "Indeed!" murmured the retiring member, laying down his book and endeavouring to look pleased. His age might have been a little over thirty, and he evidently desired to be courteous to the intruder, who was apparently his senior by a score of years. "Indeed!" he repeated, then seemed at a loss for further conversation. The other, however, had plenty to say for himself. After a few congratulatory remarks on the liner's speedy passage, he fell to asking questions.

"Going home for good?" "For six months, at any rate." "Ah! Haven't made up your mind about settling at home?" "Not quite." "Just so, just so. Are you a Londoner?"

"1 waß." "H'ni! I see. You have been abroad for some time. How long have you been in the Argentine?" "Eleven years." "Dear me! But you have been home at intervals?"

"This is my first trip home." "Well, well; you 11 see some changes in London, 1 can tell you—in the streets, at all events. Your people are in London, I suppose?" The younger man shook his head. "I am not sure that I shall find any friends in London," he said slowly. "After my mother's death a few years ago, my two brothers —my only relations in London— went to Canada. One is apt to be forgotten by friends and acquaintances in the course of eleven years." "Come, come,'' said the other briskly. "1 think you will find you are wrong there! "He proceeded to relate anecdotes of warm welcomes accorded returning exiles of Iris) own acquaintance. When he paused for breath " Well, there is perhaps one who will remember me," the younger man said, and inquired with a certain diffidence of manner whether hie companion by any chance knew a Mr. Marlow, a West Indian nu reliant. "No," was the reply. Then: "Not Marlow of Marlow and Lockycr?

"You know him?" eagerly. "Not personally, but " The omer man hesitated, looking grave. <■ "Don't tell me he is dead!'' "1 have not noticed a dtath under that name lately; but, as I said, 1 do not know Mr. Marlow personally, nor have I had any dealings with the firm. My business is of quite a different nature." The speaker rose, as if eager to depart. "One moment, sir, if you please. You seem to know something which vou (shrink from telling me. 1 beg you to tell—" "H'm! h'm! I'm sure I had no desire to pain you. This is extremely awkward for me; and, alter all, I mayhap been misinformed. You are a friend of this Mr. Mallow's and 1 would rather you did not ask meto — to " " I would rather know the worst. Is it something to dp with the firm?" The sociable member bowed and looked uiisciahlc. "1 can only tell you what I heard on 'Change the day before I left London, ten weeks ago—and the report may have been false." "What did you hearr I '"' " That the firm of Marlow and Lockver wa« shaky—on its last legs, in fact," In the dusk of the 24 th of December Mr. Loekver emerged from the portals of a great hank. He looked the crushed and beaten man he, was. The manage*- of the hank, sincerely regretful, for the busines reJationhip had been long and friendly, had blasted his. jast hope. The bank could not extend further credit, and the heavy bills payable on the 27th would be dishonoured. After that—bankruptcy. To a modern business many tilings 1 tpay happen in the coarse yf three

years. The history of Marlow and Lockyer over that p«...dd would mean a long story. Enough to say that Lockyer, handicapped by his initial borrowing, had found tne first two years so profitless that he had dropped his principles and entered desperately into big risks. But a certain genius seemed to hare quitted the business along with Marlow. The hazards' of Lockyer resulted in nothing but disaster. * * * * He was alone in his private room—alone on the premists. The clerks — their number reduced since Marlow's time —had gone an hour ago, tne youngsters in holiday mood, the elders vaguely uneasy. Lockyer trusted no one with his secrete, but 6uch things leak out, and his manner on his return from the bank had been very strange. He sat at his desk, motionless, ins head in his hands. There was nothing to detain him there. He was simply afraid to go home. He had kept his wife in the dark regarding hisi affairs. The younger members of his family—the oldest, a girl, was not ytt sixteen—were having a party that evening. How could he fat© them all ? He felt that the mere sight of him would blight their happiness. "My God!" he whispered, "what a hideous thing to happen on Christmas Eve!"

riic tired nimd went back to its leverisu, iuiue acaicu —m. seami mai nau occupied it cnrougiiout tliose recent toruinng weeks —ne search lor a way oi escape, tor the name ot sow.Know iieing wno night possibly be induced to iv. id a helping nand. but it was only another spasm of vain beating against tne bars. J. here was no way out; there was no teliow being who wou.U a.u —save, perhaps, one, Mario\v. &ur<Jy Marrow would do it —if oniy because it was Christmas Eve. uut Alar.ow was still wandering abroad, LocK.vei' Kuew not where.

n.s souses duned by his mental imsory i/OCKyer scarcely ueara tlie opening oi me ouier uoor. When footsteps uitvi near tne private room lie did not stir, a cierK leiurued lor some article ioigotten —the mar-woman —it matteier not. Uut .when a knock tell on tlie door, he sat up, groped tor. a pencil, and leigned to be busy. He mois toned lus lips and got out the words '* (Joiae in." A stranger entered; a man still young, well-dressed, but apparently ill ' at eas.. "1 beg your pardon," he said, halting awkwardty just within the threshold, " but 1 saw the light in the window, and 1 was anxious to have a word witn Air. Marlow." He pausted, paling a little as he met the curious dull stare of Lockyer's eyes. "Has Mr. Alariow gone home!' I should like very much to find him to-night." Lockyer clean d his throat. "Mr. Mai-low is abroad. 1 do not know his address." "Abroad!" The word was' charged with dismay. "Can you tell me when he will return?" The question came alter another pause. "1 cannot." The stranger sighed. " I had hoped, lie saids oftly, "to offer —to do Mr. Marlow a little service. I arrived from Buenos Aires but an hour ago. The steam.r was delayed at the last." "May 1 aslk who you are?" Lockyer had been asking himself who the stran. ger, la ntly familiar, might be, but hifl over-wrought memory had offered no answer. The stranger sighed again. "Don't you remember Dennison, Mr. Lockver P" "Dennison?" "The thief on whom you had such great mercy, eleven years ago this vtry night?" "Mercy?—l?" "You, Mr. Lockyer. Ah, Mr. Mariow told me how you sacrificed your principles to be lenient and how you joined with him in giving me that hundred pounds " "Stop!" For a moment Lockyer 's pallid countenance was scarlet. "1 stee, you don't wish me to refer to it," said Dennison. " Well, my thanks would never give you any idea of my gratitude." " lou owe me no gratitude.'' Dennison smiled taiutiy. ".Nothing you can ever say," he said gently, "will ever convince me of that. But now 1 can say to you what 1 wished to say to Mr. Alariow. 1 had Air. Alariow first in my mind because fie was senior; and also, perhaps, because he —shook hands with me that night. 1 can't tell you what that meant, Mr. Lockyer." There was a silence. The ruined man made as if to rise. What was l<o now that he should refuse his hand'"' Had he been so very honest in the risking of other people's money? Legitimate business, no doubt —but could it be called absolutely straight? He ran> back in h : s chair. At least he ueed not act the hypocrite. "I must repeat," he said stiffly, " that you owe me no the reverse." * * * * Once more Dennison smiled faintlj and shook his head. "As you will, sir. But 1 know what Mr. Marlow told me. And now " " 1 ought to have informed you that Mr. Marlow is no longtr a member of tiiiy firm. He retired more than three years ago." " Retired! Then he is not involved —1 beg your pardon, Mr. Lockyer. It may stem impertinent, but is—is everything well and prosperous with him ?" "1 have no reason to doubt it, Mr. Dennison. He left the firm at the height of its prosperity." Lockyer was writing cratically on the blottingpaper. "At the height of its prosperity," he muttered. "Height of its prosperity." He had become ghastly. "Height of " "Mr. IxK-kyer, you're ill!" cried Denuitftm. " I'm perfectly well— perfectly well—perfectly— Dennison took a step forward. "You are in great trouble. On board the steamer I heard—no, never nvnd that. But if you can tell mc a little, perhaps-—" Lockyer pulled himself together. "What did you hear on the steamer?" Then he collapsed again. "Oh, what (iocs it matter It'll lie in tlie papers in a few days. We suspend payment on Friday." Dennison's lip ijuivered as he looked down on the liowed head of the man whom ho counted a benefactor. He took an envelope from his pocket. "Mr. Lockyer," he said shyly, "this is a draft on the Bank of England for eight thousand pounds. I will endorse it to the firm. If it should prove sufficient to save vour credit. I'll find happiness in the thought till the end of my life. I beg you to accept it." A long minute passed ere Lockyer rais.ee! h's head. Emotion had wrought new lines on his face.

"The money you have offered nip, Mr. Deninson/' he said very slowly, "would save me but I cannot take it."

" It was honestly come by," returned Dennison quietly. "I have had some fortunate deals in land out there.*' "For Heaven's sake don't misunderstand me! I can't take it—because—-

eleven years ago I—l would have sci. you to jail." "But you thought better —more kindly—of it," said Dennison almost cheerfully. He came up to the desk. "May I use one of your pens?" "Dennison, I can't let you do it. I'm humbled to the dust."

"No, sir. You are lifting me from that. I'll go back to the Argentine a new man."

"You go back soon?" Lockyer spoke absently. "To-night. Sail from the Clyde tomorrow."

Lockyer appeared to wake up. " But you've just arrived." The younger man reddened. " Found a cable recalling me." He stooped and wrote across the back of the draft and passed it. over to Lockyer. What man, worried almost to death, could reject the salvation expressed in that oblong of green,paper? "As a loan, Dennison, as a loan," he said huskily, weakly.

"Very well, Mr. Lockyer. I'll send you my Buenc* Aires address when 1 get there. I'm making a change." Dennison spoke hurriedly, looking uncomfortable. "Didn't expect to return there so soon, you know. Now sir, if you will do me the honour to shake hands "

"Oh, man, why should I take this money?" cried Lockyer. "Why should you give it?" Dennison'6 faint smile came again. "It's Christmas Eve," he replied. "That's what Mr. Marlow said to me, eleven years ago" (The End.)

"What?" demanded one bridegroom. "Seven and a tanner! What for?"

MAKING THE OLD MAN HAPPY

Wlicu defending the guilty son of a criminal rather, counsel, ignoring the parental record, drtw a pathetic picture of a white-haired, aged father awaiting anxiously the return of the prodigal son to spend Christmas with him. "Have you the heart," he exclaimed to the jury", "to deprive the poor man of this happiness* " The man, however, was found guilty. Before passing sentence the judge called for the prisoner's record and examined it carefully. "I find that this prisoner has five previous convictions against him," he remarked. "Nevertheless, lam happy to state that the learned counsel's eloquent appeal will not remain unanswered, for I shall commit the prisoner to the county prison, where at the present moment his aged parent is serving a term of two years, so that father and son will he enabled to pass Christmastide under one roof!"

Binks: " I read a curious article the other day advocating a tax on beauty. Jink 6: "Good idea! They WonH have much trouble in collecting it!"

"How dare you, sir?" she cried angrily to the young fellow who had caught her'unawares under the mistle"But, really, I couldn't help myself!" he protested. " Don't add falsehood to your crime, sir! You did help youreelf!"