THE CONVERSION OF BILLY

Dominion, Volume 10, Issue 3174, 27 August 1917, Page 6

THE CONVERSION OF BILLY

A STORY FOR MEN

(By "Wi.") Billy Maginnis was one of the "buhovs," which means to say—this is a story for men only—that his brother-in-law, Ebenezer 'I'oogood, who had done all tliL' tilings ho should have done, and left undoiio the things lie shouldn't have done, didn't altogether approve of him. With Billy, a "liicht wi Burns" was 6ome "nicht," the midnight oil was tho hilarious beam that reflected tho silver on the supper-table, tinged the Benedictine to tho lustre of glowing amber, and bade dull care begone. The ripe, red blood of exuberant manhood in its heyday flush sped joyously in his veins. To Ebenezer ho was of the earth earthly, a disturber of righteous calm, a pervading influence of social upsetting. With tlio candid solicitude of one relative by marriage to another he spoke his mind oil these things to the unregenerate until finally

But let us not take time bv the forelock, or collect our dividends till the numbers go up. Let this story pursue tho even tenor of its way to the bitter end.

One afternoon a dejected and eomeivhat disreputable-looking Billy Maginnis entered Ebenezcr's office and sat down with the air of one who has a burden to dispose of, a private affliction to re- | late, a sovereign to borrow. He had days' growth on a seedy-looking chin, his face was lined, his hair in a tangle, and the spirit of morbid repentance I clouded his countenance. The spectacle so-.upset tbenezer that he rose hurriedly, told his olerk in the outer office that he was not to be disturbed, and then sat down again, his elbows on the table, and disapproval on his face. ; "Heally, William," he began. "I——• The erring one held up his hand. "Let me speak," he said, hoarsely. "I havo come here to tell you, Ebenezer, that I'm no good, a waster, a disgrace to the family, to you, lo the town, to myself." This, to Ebenezc-?, ,vas a now William, tlie sinner brought to repentance, the l-eckoning with the whirlwind, the confession of 6haine, the human clay in a condition to be remodtlltd on a better plan. . • Ebenezer stretched out his hand. William," he said, "brace up, be a man, your chance. At last I find you chastened to a spirit of ropentancc, and I'm glad, William, glad for jour sake, my sake, everybody's sake, "iou are in the prime of life —or would have been, if —but, well, say no more about that. Now's vour one great chance to pull yourself together, abandon your irresponsible pleasure-seeking ways, and face the sterner joys of life." • Billy tfliook his head with profound dejection. "iNo, ilbeuezer/ he said, _ its no good. I've tried it, but the devil_ in me is too strong. So therms nothing elao for it—l'm going to do it." "Do whatr" aiiteu Kbenezer, in some alarm. Billy looked fixedly at his brother-in-law. Then he rose, went to the door, peeped out, theu shut it softly, iocked it, and put the key *.n his pocket. He returned to his ctiatr, rtrew a package from his coat pocket, and looked at it thoughtfully. Ebenezer sat still . and watched his movements with a chilling spine. . . "i'ibeneser," resumed Billy, eyeing his brother-in-law with a gaze, "have you ever thought of death?" Ebenezer cleared his throat. "L—look here, old man, don't let's talk any moro a—a—about this—'tHis business. 'Sou— you're not quite yourself to-day, my dear l'eliow. Everything wlook different to you to-morrow. C—come and h—havo dinner with me to-niglit, and we'll 6eo it we can't cheer you up a bit." Billy laughed mirtulcssly. Ebenezer, old son, it's got to be." He undid the paekage, and disclosed to Ebenczcr's fearful gaze a sardinetin, from which protruded about half a yard of something that looked like a thick, white string. "Seo this, Eueiu.-m'i'" he said. Ebenezer motioned assent. His tonguo thickened and his skin grew clammy. "Tho position is this," coutinued Billy, tapping viie tin with his lorehnger. "I in too wicked to live, and you re too go-nl for this wicked world. That being so, Ebenezer, wouldu't it be a liue tiling-if you and 1 were to go ,houoe together— haad-in-hand, so to speak!'" Ho struck a match, and holding it. near the sinister-looking cord, auded: "When I light this, it should burn lor iivo minutes before it reaches the tin. When it reaches the tin—however, I needn't weary yoii with technicalities, Ebenezer. iou'il know all about it in live minutes." , So saving, lie applied the match, bhes off, Ebenezer," he said. Then lie leaned back in his chair, put his feet up on tlie table, and lit a cigar. Ebenezer came to earth, home, anil mother with, a shriek. "Merciful Heavens!" lie veiled, and threw himselt at the window, smashed it, struggled out with frantic wriggles and fled up the road, with Billy's demoniacal "Ha! Ha!" ringing in his ears. He rnn all the wav to the club and fell into a chair in a state ot collapse, his face and hands bleeding from splintered glass, his tie over his collar, and a hole in one of his trouser-legs, in one minute he had an interested audience 1 and a glass—ot—of water. , . •"it's—it's— Billy! he gasped. Hesho's in my office! Listen!" Ebenezer sat bolt upright and cocked his head on one side like a fugitive hen. _ "Well," said ono of the audience, we re listening all right, but we can t heal anything yet. what are we supposed to "Ex—explosion!" panted Ebenezer. "He —he's got an infernal machine with hun and lie's goiug to blow himself up." "Wluvt! „ „ , . , "Fact. He-lie's lit the fuse. T-tried to blow me up too, but got thiough the window." The club instantly adjourned to the 'street and deployed in the direction ot Ebenezer's office. It was still there. Ebenezer looked at his watch. t "It was to go off in five minutes, he explained, with a shiver. They stood still, waiting and watching. The minutes slowly passed, but the office oontinued to sit peacefully upon tho earth. ~ "Perhaps it's missed • fire, said one. "Let's have a look," and he went slowly towards the building, his nerves all agog, his feet tunod up for instant flight. Nothing happened. , He went on, gained the window, and peeped in. . Billy Maginnis was sitting m his chair, with 'his feet on the table, smoking his ci"nr. The fuse had burnt itself out. The scouting party signalled his reserves, and they invaded the death chaml>C"Hullo!" said Billy, "where's Ebene''Ebenezor strode forward, wrath fully. »You—you scoundrel!" he shouted, shaking his fist. "You said you were going to"blow yourself up." ~ Billy laughed. "I said nothing of the sort." he said. , "Didn't you light the fuse? demanded Ebenezer. ' ... , "It wasn't a fuse. It was a bit ot string," said Billy, grinning. "What was that in the tin, then.-' "Sardines, Ebenezer." said Bill}'. .Tust plain sardinos, you silly old ass. No—l'm not going to tell you whether this is true or not. I don't want a corps of vigilantes descending on Wellington and demanding my bodily substauce m pound lots.