Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1916)

36 Photoplay Magazine Dick. And do you know we named him for you."v Ordway brushed something from his face. "Very well," he said huskily. "I will stay a few days, and see the boy. My God, how hard it is going to be to go !" ""THAT evening, when John Fuller re■*• turned to his home, he saw a light in his wife's eves he never had seen before. She was crushing the boy to her breast and crooning over him. Her face was illumined, and yet as she looked at her husband a shadow passed over it. Drawing a deep breath, she set Dick down and told him to run to his nurse, for she wanted to talk to Daddy. Gently she led Piffle to the little den where they had passed so many lyric hours. "Something has happened. John." she began. "Something wonderful — and terrible." He looked at her questioningly. "Dick Ordway has come back." There was no need to say more. She knew he understood what that meant. They sat in silence for a long time. The man was stunned ; his mind would not grasp it. "He isn't dead?" The sound of his own voice asking the foolish, banal question broke the spell, and Piffle laughed, a hard, metallic, grating laugh. It was the first sign of bitterness that this woman he had made his wife and given her freedom had ever seen in him. "This world is a hell of a place." the man began, almost in a snarl. "God lures you up to the gate of heaven, and then slams it in your face. Hell's better. You don't expect anything." "John !" Her voice only intensified his sense of tragedy. "Oh. what's the use?" he went on. "I never did amount to anything, and everybody knew it. When I was a kid I was kicked all over the place, and I guess that's all I was meant for — a human football. And now — " There was a rush of little feet, a little bump against the door, a fumbling with the knob, and Dick ran in, flinging himself into the arms of the clown. "Daddy." he said reproachfully. "You ■sed me hello when you came Piffle and drew never ki> home." With a hoarse sound in his throat, gathered the boy into his arms, sobbed brokenly, while the child back and looked at him in wonder. "What's Daddy crying about?" he demanded of his mother, only to find that she was weeping too. "What's everybody crying about?" he asked again, his own voice quivering. Piffle pulled himself together with a supreme effort. "It's all right. Kiddie." he said. "Daddy's got to go away for a long time. and he's sorry to have to leave you." "I'd give anything in this world. John. if — " Millicent began, and paused. "But I can't help it." 'It's all right: don't worry about me. I'll be all right." and with steady tread Piffle made his way to the attic and began packing his old battered trunks. The hardest thing was saying goodbye to the boy. Millicent. after all. he was not giving up. She never had been his. But Dick he had come to look upon as his own son. and loved him as few fathers love their children. But at last the long agony of that evening was over, and the clown crept away from the side of the sleeping boy to take a train somewhere — anywhere — back to the Big Top. And next morning Millicent explained as well as she knew how. to the bewildered lad. that he had lost one father, but soon would have another. IX the dressing room of the Big Top. *■ Piffle sat looking at a picture of a woman holding a baby in her arms. It was the one which had won over the judge, years before. And now he had just received notice of a suit for divorce, begun by Millicent on the ground of desertion. Well, that was all in the past now, and at least. Piffle mused. it was doubtful if divorce papers ever had been accompanied by such a letter from the plaintiff to the defendant as he had just finished reading. Rollo, the Strong Man, knew something of the story, though not by anv means all of it. and came to Piffle's side. "Lonesome?" he asked, pointing to the photograph. "Lonesome!" the clown exclaimed. "Lonesome ! Why, all the kids in the world belong to me!"