The Poisoned Pen(Fiscle Part-3) by Arthur B. Reeve (top 10 motivational books .txt) 📕

The Result Was A Portrait Which Might Well Have Been Painted From

The Subject Herself Rather Than From A Cold Photograph.

"Haswell Saw The Growing Intimacy Of His Daughter And The Artist.

His Bent Of Mind Was Solely Toward Money And Material Things,  And

He At Once Conceived A Bitter And Unreasoning Hatred For Martin,

Who,  He Believed,  Had 'Schemed' To Capture His Daughter And An

Easy Living. Art Was As Foreign To His Nature As Possible.

Nevertheless They Went Ahead And Married,  And,  Well,  It Resulted

In The Old Man Disinheriting The Girl. The Young Couple

Disappeared Bravely To Make Their Way By Their Chosen Profession

And,  As Far As I Know,  Have Never Been Heard From Since Until Now.

Haswell Made A New Will And I Have Always Understood That

Practically All Of His Fortune Is To Be Devoted To Founding The

Technology Department In A Projected University Of Brooklyn."

"You Have Never Seen This Mrs. Martin Or Her Husband?" Asked

Kennedy.

"No,  Never. But In Some Way She Must Have Learned That I Had Some

Influence With Her Father,  For She Wrote To Me Not Long Ago,

Enclosing A Note For Him And Asking Me To Intercede For Her. I Did

So. I Took The Letter To Him As Diplomatically As I Could. The Old

Man Flew Into A Towering Rage,  Refused Even To Look At The Letter,

Tore It Up Into Bits,  And Ordered Me Never To Mention The Subject

To Him Again. That Is Her Note,  Which I Saved. However,  It Is The

Sequel About Which I Wish Your Help."

The Physician Folded Up The Patched Letter Carefully Before He

Continued. "Mr. Haswell,  As You Perhaps Know,  Has For Many Years

Been A Prominent Figure In Various Curious Speculations,  Or Rather

In Loaning Money To Many Curious Speculators. It Is Not Necessary

To Go Into The Different Schemes Which He Has Helped To Finance.

Even Though Most Of Them Have Been Unknown To The Public They Have

Certainly Given Him Such A Reputation That He Is Much Sought After

By Inventors.

"Not Long Ago Haswell Became Interested In The Work Of An Obscure

Chemist Over In Brooklyn,  Morgan Prescott. Prescott Claims,  As I

Understand,  To Be Able To Transmute Copper Into Gold. Whatever You

Think Of It Offhand,  You Should Visit His Laboratory Yourselves,

Gentlemen. I Am Told It Is Wonderful,  Though I Have Never Seen It

And Can't Explain It. I Have Met Prescott Several Times While He

Was Trying To Persuade Mr. Haswell To Back Him In His Scheme,  But

He Was Never Disposed To Talk To Me,  For I Had No Money To Invest.

So Far As I Know About It The Thing Sounds Scientific And

Plausible Enough. I Leave You To Judge Of That. It Is Only An

Incident In My Story And I Will Pass Over It Quickly. Prescott,

Then,  Believes That The Elements Are Merely Progressive Variations

Of An Original Substance Or Base Called 'Protyle,' From Which

Everything Is Derived. But This Fellow Prescott Goes Much Further

Than Any Of The Former Theorists. He Does Not Stop With Matter. He

Believes That He Has The Secret Of Life Also,  That He Can Make The

Transition From The Inorganic To The Organic,  From Inert Matter To

Living Protoplasm,  And Thence From Living Protoplasm To Mind And

What We Call Soul,  Whatever That May Be."

"And Here Is Where The Weird And Uncanny Part Of It Comes In,"

Commented Craig,  Turning From The Doctor To Me To Call My

Attention Particularly To What Was About To Follow.

"Having Arrived At The Point Where He Asserts That He Can Create

And Destroy Matter,  Life,  And Mind," Continued The Doctor,  As If

Himself Fascinated By The Idea,  "Prescott Very Naturally Does Not

Have To Go Far Before He Also Claims A Control Over Telepathy And

Even A Communication With The Dead. He Even Calls The Messages

Which He Receives By A Word Which He Has Coined Himself,

'Telepagrams.' Thus He Says He Has Unified The Physical,  The

Physiological,  And The Psychical--A System Of Absolute Scientific

Monism."

The Doctor Paused Again,  Then Resumed. "One Afternoon,  About A

Week Ago,  Apparently,  As Far As I Am Able To Piece Together The

Story,  Prescott Was Demonstrating His Marvellous Discovery Of The

Unity Of Nature. Suddenly He Faced Mr. Haswell.

"'Shall I Tell You A Fact,  Sir,  About Yourself?' He Asked Quickly.

'The Truth As I See It By Means Of My Wonderful Invention? If It

Is The Truth,  Will You Believe In Me? Will You Put Money Into My

Invention? Will You Share In Becoming Fabulously Rich?'

"Haswell Made Some Noncommittal Answer. But Prescott Seemed To

Look Into The Machine Through A Very Thick Plate-Glass Window,

With Haswell Placed Directly Before It. He Gave A Cry. 'Mr.

Haswell,' He Exclaimed,  'I Regret To Tell You What I See. You Have

Disinherited Your Daughter; She Has Passed Out Of Your Life And At

The Present Moment You Do Not Know Where She Is.'

"'That's True,' Replied The Old Man Bitterly,  'And More Than That

I Don't Care. Is That All You See? That's Nothing New.'

"'No,  Unfortunately,  That Is Not All I See. Can You Bear Something

Further? I Think You Ought To Know It. I Have Here A Most

Mysterious Telepagram.'

"'Yes. What Is It? Is She Dead?'

"'No,  It Is Not About Her. It Is About Yourself. To-Night At

Midnight Or Perhaps A Little Later,' Repeated Prescott Solemnly,

'You Will Lose Your Sight As A Punishment For Your Action.'

"'Pouf!' Exclaimed The Old Man In A Dudgeon,  'If That Is All Your

Invention Can Tell Me,  Good-Bye. You Told Me You Were Able To Make

Gold. Instead,  You Make Foolish Prophecies. I'll Put No Money Into

Such Tomfoolery. I'm A Practical Man,' And With That He Stamped

Out Of The Laboratory.

"Well,  That Night,  About One O'clock,  In The Silence Of The Lonely

Old House,  The Aged Caretaker,  Jane,  Whom He Had Hired After He

Banished His Daughter From His Life,  Heard A Wild Shout Of 'Help!

Help!' Haswell,  Alone In His Room On The Second Floor,  Was Groping

About In The Dark.

"'Jane,' He Ordered,  'A Light--A Light.'

"'I Have Lighted The Gas,  Mr. Haswell,' She Cried.

"A Groan Followed. He Had Himself Found A Match,  Had Struck It,

Had Even Burnt His Fingers With It,  Yet He Saw Nothing.

"The Blow Had Fallen. At Almost The Very Hour Which Prescott,  By

Means Of His Weird Telepagram Had Predicted,  Old Haswell Was

Stricken.

"'I'm Blind,' He Gasped. 'Send For Dr. Burnham.'

"I Went To Him Immediately When The Maid Roused Me,  But There Was

Nothing I Could Do Except Prescribe Perfect Rest For His Eyes And

Keeping In A Dark Room In The Hope That His Sight Might Be

Restored As Suddenly And Miraculously As It Had Been Taken Away.

"The Next Morning,  With His Own Hand,  Trembling And Scrawling In

His Blindness,  He Wrote The Following On A Piece Of Paper:

"'Mrs. Grace Martin.--Information Wanted About The Present

Whereabouts Of Mrs. Grace Martin,  Formerly Grace Haswell Of

Brooklyn."

Stephen Haswell,----Pierrepont St.,  Brooklyn.

"This Advertisement He Caused To Be Placed In All The New York

Papers And To Be Wired To The Leading Western Papers. Haswell

Himself Was A Changed Man After His Experience. He Spoke Bitterly

Of Prescott,  Yet His Attitude Toward His Daughter Was Completely

Reversed. Whether He Admitted To Himself A Belief In The

Prediction Of The Inventor,  I Do Not Know. Certainly He Scouted

Such An Idea In Telling Me About It.

"A Day Or Two After The Advertisements Appeared A Telegram Came To

The Old Man From A Little Town In Indiana. It Read Simply: 'Dear

Father: Am Starting For Brooklyn To-Day. Grace.'

"The Upshot Was That Grace Haswell,  Or Rather Grace Martin,

Appeared The Next Day,  Forgave And Was Forgiven With Much Weeping,

Although The Old Man Still Refused Resolutely To Be Reconciled

With And Receive Her Husband. Mrs. Martin Started In To Clean Up

The Old House. A Vacuum Cleaner Sucked A Ton Or Two Of Dust From

It. Everything Was Changed. Jane Grumbled A Great Deal,  But There

Was No Doubt A Great Improvement. Meals Were Served Regularly. The

Old Man Was Taken Care Of As Never Before. Nothing Was Too Good

For Him. Everywhere The Touch Of A Woman Was Evident In The House.

The Change Was Complete. It Even Extended To Me. Some Friend Had

Told Her Of An Eye And Ear Specialist,  A Dr. Scott,  Who Was

Engaged. Since Then,  I Understand,  A New Will Has Been Made,  Much

To The Chagrin Of The Trustees Of The Projected School. Of Course

I Am Cut Out Of The New Will,  And That With The Knowledge At Least

Of The Woman Who Once Appealed To Me,  But It Does Not Influence Me

In Coming To You."

"But What Has Happened Since To Arouse Suspicion?" Asked Kennedy,

Watching The Doctor Furtively.

"Why,  The Fact Is That,  In Spite Of All This Added Care,  The Old

Man Is Failing More Rapidly Than Ever. He Never Goes Out Except

Attended And Not Much Even Then. The Other Day I Happened To Meet

Jane On The Street. The Faithful Old Soul Poured Forth A Long

Story About His Growing Dependence On Others And Ended By

Mentioning A Curious Red Discoloration That Seems To Have Broken

Out Over His Face And Hands. More From The Way She Said It Than

From What She Said I Gained The Impression That Something Was

Going On Which Should Be Looked Into."

"Then You Perhaps Think That Prescott And Mrs. Martin Are In Some

Way Connected In This Case?" I Hazarded.

I Had Scarcely Framed The Question Before He Replied In An

Emphatic Negative. "On The Contrary,  It Seems To Me That If They

Know Each Other At All It Is With Hostility. With The Exception Of

The First Stroke Of Blindness"--Here He Lowered His Voice

Earnestly--"Practically Every Misfortune That Has Overtaken Mr.

Haswell Has Been Since The Advent Of This New Dr. Scott. Mind,  I

Do Not Wish Even To Breathe That Mrs. Martin Has Done Anything

Except What A Daughter Should Do. I Think She Has Shown Herself A

Model Of Forgiveness And Devotion. Nevertheless The Turn Of Events

Under The New Treatment Has Been So Strange That Almost It Makes

One Believe That There Might Be Something Occult About It--Or

Wrong With The New Doctor."

"Would It Be Possible,  Do You Think,  For Us To See Mr. Haswell?"

Asked Kennedy,  When Dr. Burnham Had Come To A Full Stop After

Pouring Forth His Suspicions. "I Should Like To See This Dr.

Scott. But First I Should Like To Get Into The Old House Without

Exciting Hostility."

The Doctor Was Thoughtful. "You'll Have To Arrange That Yourself,"

He Answered. "Can't You Think Up A Scheme? For Instance,  Go To Him

With A Proposal Like The Old Schemes He Used To Finance. He Is

Very Much Interested In Electrical Inventions. He Made His Money

By Speculation In Telegraphs And Telephones In The Early Days When

They Were More Or Less Dreams. I Should Think A Wireless System Of

Television Might At Least Interest Him And Furnish An Excuse For

Getting In,  Although I Am Told His Daughter Discourages All