"The Chains of Bondage."

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10056, 2 August 1910, Page 2

"The Chains of Bondage."

CHAPTEK IX.—Continued. "I'm just off to find l.~c. 2c son." There waa emot-cn ; n lo.k Saxon's voice. "His wit,:, .-r or woman, looks like losing litr It's those infernal 'buck c». shop' people that are really the mu'derers of the man lying dead ii: thtro!" he added vehemently, as he wslked down the street with Jim. "The dead man has left a letter behind—just a few lines. Good Heaven, toe piciiui, tragic story it tel's! That firm in the city where Miss Hood held a position for a few weeks " "You mean 'The Legitimate Investments Company' 9 " "Yes: that's the firm, it seems, into whose clutches poor Spence got. A thrifty, hard working man until one of thtir specious, lying advertisements dazzled him—made him thiuk he could turn his savings into a fortune. Of course, they Itt him win at first; (hen cleaned him out —ruined him! i-rved Saxon fiercely. "This gigantic swindling trap is really a one man concern, they say only the man who runs it takes care that his name doesn't appear, but Mihs Hood once saw him there; overheard some chance words. A man who has preyed on and ruined thousands. I wish he could be strung up to the nearest lamp post!" "And you don't know his name?" atked Jim quic-M . "No; Mioa Hood didn't hear it that day the saw him in the manager's KKiu. bus. rhat man, whoever he is, is morally responsible for this tragedy. Aim I'm afraid it's not only his own money lost; there's a hint of something worse in his letter —a hint that he borrowed his firm's money to meet his loss-s, and found he couldn't replace it!" added Tom, as they parted. Jim took a cab and drove home, haunted by the memory of the woman's white, tragic face, that had broken in upon bis laughter with Elsie. He let himself into the big luxuriously furnished house that bore evidences everywhere of Paul Kalston's weaitb. As Jim crossed the hall, the library door opened and his father appsarcd. "1 want to speak to you a minute," he said curtly. The "minute" lengthened out into three quarters of an hour. The servants, h ari&g their master's raised voice, knew that behind the closed door of the library a stormy scene was taking place. Paul Kalsion had bullied, blustered, threatened. If Jim married this typewriter girl, it would mean a final breach between them. The angry man reiterated it. Perhaps in ni« heart Paul Ralston I did not altogether mean that; but he was resolved to leave no stone unturned to prevent his son's contemplated marriage, that mignt thwart a cherished, selfish ambition of his own. From the beginning of his career, he bai been intensely ambitious, this self made man who had risen from nothing; his absorbing ambition was to possets a title before he died. It was an age when wealthy merchants, who had served their party well, were rewarded by seats in the House of Peers. Why not he? Paul Raiston had spent money lavishly on behalf of his party, yet the title was long in coming; he was not a popular man. If a match could only be brought about between his son and j Sybil Ellstree, that would be a stepp- i ing stone to the achievement of hia ambitions. Th 3 Ellstrees had many relatives and connections in high places, to give his prospects the enormous leverage of their influence, if [ they choose to exert it. And they would exert it, if his son married Sybil, he told himself. And Jim was deliberately proposing to marry a typewriter girl! And throughout the heated interview—heated on his part, at least—Jim had met all his threats with a resolution' as inflexible as his own. Finally, in his exasperation he had hinted, with an ugly sneer, that Elsie had been influenced in her consent to marry him by the fact that he was the son of a rich man. "That is not true," retorted Jim, keeping his temper with an effort. "Even if it were the truth, you have no means of knowing it. And it's utterly untrue." "Of course, you believe that; and, ; of course, it's to her interest tn let you believe it," said Paul Ralston, with a sneer. "If you are so sure of the disinterestedness of her motives, are you willing to submit it to a test?" "What do you mean?" "Just that. Are you sufficiently confident that her motives are quite disinterested to let me put them to the test?" demanded his father. "Nothing would shake my conviction in her honesty,' cried Jim hotly. "Then you consent?" There was a sudden gleam in the older man's eyes. "I don't understand what you propose." "I propose to prove to you that this girl may be more mercenary in her motives than you believe. Ask her to come to this house to-morrow night; you shall be present and hear all that

J BY EMILY B. HETHEBINGTON. ; l» Author of—" His Collego Chum," " Worthinsjton s V Pledgo." ".-V Foe," etc.

i. siiid. And possibly you may ha\e .-■"■.:.:ae to modify your upiuion about .. disinterestedness." And ha gave .. little laugh. Jim looked hard at his father, won- ; ciciing if a trap were beiog laii for I faiai. For a moment he did not speak. "Of course, if you shrink altogether I from testing your expressed conviction," began his father, "I " Jim took fire trie words. "Very .well, J. accept your challenge!'"' he I said. | CHAPTER XIII. A HIGH BID. There were three figures in the long, well furnished room, with ttie French windows overlooking the garden flung open to the dusk of the September night—the room in which on the previous evening Jim Ralston had indignantly accepted his father's challenge. To-night Elsie mace a third figure in the room. She had come in response to a letter from Jim. "Tell Miss Hood I have a proposal to make respecting your engagement," Paul Ralston had said curtly; and that was the only hint Jim had aa to his father's intentions. His face wore a thinly veiled look of anxiety as he introduced the two. He had taken up the challenge in a moment of heat, in proof of his faith in the girl he loved. Now, when the momeut had come, he feared that, whatever it was Paul Ralston contemplated, it might seem to put a slight nr humiliation on Elsie, in spite of his father's assurance to the contrary. Paul Ralston did not waste time beating about the bush. "I understand, Miss Hood, that you have promised to many my aon," he brusquely said. "For certain reasons which I need not enter upon—reasons that have no application to you personally —such a marriage does not commend itself to me. It clashes with ambitions of mine for my son—ambitions which, I believe, would secure for him a happiness not possible in his contemplated marriage." He paused. He did not explain how largely self interest entered into those ambitions be spoke of, as he stared past the girl who sat watch- j ing nim coldly, into the du9k of the i garden outside the French window. For a moment his eyes seemed arrested. Just at first Paul Ralston could almost have persuaded himself that he saw a figure moving stealthily among the trees there. "Well?" Elsie's tones were cold. | "I have expressed my views on the subject to my son, who knows how strongly I hold them. My wishes apparently have no weight with him. Consequently I appeal to you. In a word, I ask you tc give my son up. This, lam aware, may entail some sacrifice on your part; but such a sacrifice may bring compensating advantages to yourself." Jim restrained himself with an effort as he heard his father's words. "At present you hardly make yourself clear, ft>r Ralston." El&ie's face and voice were different from those of the girl he had driven home with from the last nignt. There was a hardt e a m j both that was new to Jin.. ' "J will be more explicn. L. coming engaged to the am i ... wealthy man, you have natur«n.y, to doubt felt that your marriage v.v uld bring you a husband who could keep you in comfort—possibly in luxury." "But this is an insult!" broke out Jim, springing to his feet, shame and anger mingled in his voice, as his eyes rested on Elsie. "Kindly be silent," said Paul Ralston. "You promised that you would not interfere." He turned to Elsie again. "Such would not be the case. If you and my son persist in marrying in opposition to my wishes, he will have nothing to expect from me. His position, consequently, will be very different from his present position. Perhaps you have not weighed this?" "No; I certainly never weighed that consideration," said Elsie quiet ly. "It is true my son has a small income that he inherits from his mother —so small, indeed, as hardly to be worth mentioning; beyond that he is dependent on me. If he offends me, he is practically a pauper. He has been called to the bar, it is true; but I doubt if his profession will do anything for him in the way of an income for years. In other words, if you and he are so foolish as to marry, you may make up your minds to face a life of poverty and struggle. You see, it is very little after all, that you are asked to give up," Paul Ralston said, with his eyes on the girl. TO BE CONTTNTJED