The Man Who Was Dead by Helen Topping Miller Read online

  He would go back to Jeanne.

  They wrapped him in hot, dry clothes and

  Jeanne

  was

  loyal.

  She would take him

  rolled him in a heavy blanket.

  in and care for him. Then, perhaps, soon he Then they put him ashore. A boat would die and she would be free.

  came out from some little cove and crept

  He had a ring left yet—a little cheap

  alongside the bulging belly of the submarine.

  ring. He pawned it for enough to land him on Two men went into it—two men and Burke.

  the Jersey side, sixteen miles from New York.

  He did not see where they were going.

  He could beat his way in.

  His eyes were still weary and he kept them He had traveled from Bonong to

  closed. But his ears were keen as ever—as

  Tampa on a fruit boat once, eleven thousand keen as when he had thought himself dead. He miles, eating at the captain’s table and paying heard the boat grate on gravel and the voices nothing. He knew how to work it. It is proof of men speaking English. He heard the rumble of Burke’s skill that he did work it. He arrived of a motor and the swish of long grass beside in New York—riding in a Pullman car with

  the path.

  money in his pocket. There are still men who Then the men who spoke English ride Pullman cars who think they are clever carried him away in the motor. He did not

  with cards.

  care. If he could not die it did not matter In the city Burke went straight to the

  greatly where he went. He wondered vaguely little house on Twelfth Street. He had been whether Henley was saved—Henley and the

  gone four months. The leaves were off the

  captain and the ship’s doctor. Henley had vines now. The flowers were dead in the given him too much veronal. But he had window boxes. He could see the light of a fire meant well—poor old Henley. Then, whatever through the window.

  it was that the white-mustached one had given Very softly he closed the little iron

  him overcame him and he slept soundly. For gate and climbed the two steps. He could see the first time in hours his avid brain was still.

  the room through the half-closed curtains.

  When he awoke he was in a hospital.

  Jeanne was there—and Henley. She

  He knew it for a free hospital by the rows of was sitting on the arm of Henley’s chair and beds and the unironed, coarse garment that he they were studying a book together. Burke

  wore. There was an ice cap on his head, and a could see the pictures in the book. It was an cool, moist bandage lay lightly over his dry, automobile catalogue!

  stretched mouth. Burke lay back with a sigh.

  Then he remembered. The money! Of

  He knew hospitals for agonized places, aching course the money was Jeanne’s. She had

  with loneliness. He had lain in many from

  that—the only thing he could give her. The Buenos Aires to Stockholm. All alike they

  red dress had been so little. He was glad that were!

  Jeanne had the money. Then with a start that At last they let him go. They gave him

  pained him he realized that now he was alive strange, cheap clothes which did not fit him.

  the money was his again—the income of it as They gave him no money—hardly a civil long as he lived.

  farewell. The pain was better and he felt

  He had done so little for Jeanne!

  stronger. But he was still a sick man—sick If he had died!

  and penniless and alone in a strange place. He He cursed the foreign crew with

  could not work. He did not know how to beg.

  fervent tongue.

  That was one scalawag’s trade which he had Then came a chilling thought. Jeanne

  The Man Who Was Dead

  7

  did not know that he was alive! To Jeanne and train, very magnificent. The world was under Henley he was only an indulged memory,

  his feet again, and his face was set upon the hidden from troubling under a sleeping sea!

  old road.

  To Jeanne he was dead!

  For Jeanne’s sake he was dead!

  He turned away.

  Those gentlemen, the editors, who

  Straight down the two steps he went

  hold their fingers continually upon the

  and into the street. The pain surged up quickly capricious public pulse, maintain that

  in his breast but he fought it down.

  nowadays the people will have nothing but

  He would miss Henley. Henley knew

  love stories.

  what to do for the pain. But he walked away Gentlemen, I insist that this is a love

  and did not look back,

  story!

  At the Grand Central he boarded a fast

 

 

  Monte Herridge, The Man Who Was Dead by Helen Topping Miller

 

 

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