Moving Picture News (Jan-Jun 1913)

iS THE MOVING PICTURE NEWS Tom returned. May was heartbroken when she heard of his bad habits. "Can't you do something, Frank?" she urged. "We have both loved Tom for so long, we must not let him go to ruin." That night Frank went to see his old chum. At first there was silence between them and some embarrassment. "Well, old man, what is it you want to say? I know you came to say something," began Tom. ''Yes, I did," Frank acknowledged. "I beg your pardon for mentioning it; you may not think it is our business, but May and I are sorry to see you doing as you are. In fact, she is heartbroken." "What do you want me to do? I haven't any work and. I can't get any now. Besides, what's the use? I have n6 interest in life." "First come to see us. Talk to May. I can't begin to talk to you as she can. Say, do you know, old fellow, if I wasn't sure that May loved me, I'd be jealous of you. May loves you very much." "Even now?" "Yes, even now." "Well, I'll come!" cried Tom, springing to his feet. "And I'll not drink another drop, for her sake. You know I love her, Frank; I'll not make a secret of that." "Yes, I know, and I'm not afraid." And so it came about that Tom became a frequent visitor of Frank and May. The good council of the girl gave him new courage and a new outlook upon life. It was worth much to have her friendship and the freedom of her home. Very soon after Tom's first visit to the home of his friends there was a bookkeeping position open at the bank where Frank worked. This was offered to Tom. He gladly and gratefully accepted it and went to work with a will. The days passed pleasantly for the three friends until the next summer. Then Frank began to have business out of town. "Now that I have some one to look after May, I can go away now and then." In answer to May's questions he always answered, "Oh, I've made some investments and I must look after them a little." One evening when Tom appeared at Frank's home May told him her husband had not come home to dinner but had telephoned that he would dine with a friend and not be home until late. Tom and May spent the evening together as usual. They talked of their high school days and the things they used to do. Once or twice they got a little too near the dangerous subject, but Tom always had the courage to turn the conversation into another channel. When they said good-night at eleven o'clock they could look as frankly into each other's eyes as before. "Don't be anxious," Tom said, as he saw May watching the clock. "He's probably talking business and has forgotten the time. Besides, he knows I'm here to take care of you. But I must go, now, and if I meet him I'll tell him to hurry home to you." On the way to his rooms Tom had to pass the bank where he worked. As he passed under one of the back windows he stopped suddenly. "That's funny," he thought, "there is never a light in there." A faint ray of light showed beneath the heavy blind. Tom went quickly and let himself in with his key. On the threshhold of the room from which the light came he stopped. A man was bending over his books. In a moment he recognized Frank. One look at his face as he raised it made Tom exclaim, "Good God, what's the matter. Frank; what have you done?" Frank stepped back from the books and stood staring at Tom. "I thought you were with May," he whispered hoarsely. Tom went to the desk and hurriedly examined the open pages. Turning upon Frank, he stood staring at him, trying to believe his eyes. "What does this mean?" he demanded at last. Frank did not speak. "You were changing my books. You must have a reason. Have you been using the bank's funds?" Frank did not deny it "For what?" insisted Tom. "Speculating." "The same old story! Oh, Frank, how could you do such a thing — with May as your wife. How could you!" Frank was silent. "For God's sake speak, man!" demanded Tom. "What were you going to do? Let the bank think I had done this? Oh, Frank, Frank!" Frank found his tongue. "You have not been such a model that you can preach to me." "No, I have not, but what I did never harmed anyone but myself," answered Tom, "and it was at least in the open." "I suppose you'll tell the whole thing to-morrow." "Frank, I can't do that, for your sake and for May's ; I cannot," said Tom, huskily. "Can't you get the money before any one knows?" "Yes, I'll get it to-morrow; I swear it," promised the guilty man. The next morning when Tom went to work he was confronted by a detective and several officials of the bank. "We are waiting for you, sir," he was told. "For what reason?" he asked in a voice of guilt. "Oh, I think you know. It was just a lucky accident that made us discover your crime," he was informed. "Gentlemen, give me a moment. This matter can be ex THE OLD INDIAN STANDS BY THE LONELY GRAVE OF HIS FRIEND FRANK plained. Let me telephone, please," pleaded Tom in desperation. "Certainly, telephone — from here," he was answered. Tom rang up Frank's residence. May answered the telephone. "Oh, Tom," she said in answer to his inquiry, "I am so worried; Frank came home about an hour after you left and told me he had received a telegram calling him out West, and he left on the night train. He seemed so worried. Can you tell me what it means?" Tom hung up the receiver without answering. Turning to the gentlemen he said, "Gentlemen, I am ready to go with you." That evening, still waiting for Tom to come to give her the explanation, May picked up the paper. "Oh," she cried, as she read a certain headline. Breathlessly she read down the column. "Oh," she cried again, "I see it all now. I see it all. Frank has done this and Tom has gone to prison for my sake."