consumed with curiosity to know
what Good actually had written--and, indeed, _why_ he had written at
all--he was too proud to question her. With a muttered grunt, expressive
of anything which one might choose to read into it, he buried himself
anew in his paper, and presently, without again referring to the
subject, left the table. His manner, meant to show a consciousness of
injury, and at the same time, readiness for conciliation, produced no
apparent effect. It is doubtful if Judith was aware of his departure. He
left, therefore, with his chagrin redoubled, full of suspicion, and
utterly bewildered at the tortuous mental processes of all women, and
his sister in particular.

Judith was still immersed in the letter. Its bold, uneven scrawl was
familiar, but with an indefinable touch of weakness, never before
apparent. The paper was of the cheapest, a trifle soiled, and torn in
several places. It had been written with a soft pencil, it began,
characteristically, without salutation.

* * * * *

"Some time in the pleistocene age, journalists formed the habit of
ending their news despatches with the mystic symbol, 30. It
signifies--the end.

"I write to tell you that it looks as if it was time to write 30 to the
tedious narrative of yours truly. In a word--I'm not the man I was.
Which is a cryptic way of saying that I'm more ghost than flesh now, and
shifting rapidly. The medico, who is a poor liar, also has a loud voice
and doesn't know how thin boarding-house walls are. I heard him tell the
landlady that money for medicine was a case of economic folly. I was a
gone goose--or words to that effect.

"It's been a long road and mostly a hard one. I'm not sorry to reach the
end. You see, I never really learned how to walk. Now and then I thought
I had. But the thought was always followed by a tumble. The last was the
hardest. I don't want to try any more. And when a man gets too tired to
_try_--well, there's nothing left but crepe, is there?

"Really, the doctor's information is quite the cheerfullest thing I
could hear. All I ask is that they ring down the curtain on the
delectable comedy of 'Brent Good, Misfit,' as expeditiously as possible.
From what he said, I judge they will.

"I've tried more things in my allotted span than ten men ordinarily try.
And I've failed, with perfect uniformity, in every one. I counted much
on _The Dispatch_. I stubbed my spiritual toe there, too...."