title: The solution : a story of the new medication
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OCT 14 1322 , I ' To Dr. THOMAS KELLY who lived and died for humanity, and who encouraged the author with observations and wise councils this book is inscribed FOREWORD This is the day of advance. The human mind is more than ever seeking for the ways and means of combating the forces inimical to human existence. Even as the wisdom of Noah led to his construction of the biblical ark; as Ponce de Leon sought the fountain of eternal youth, so today science is direct- ing its greatest achievements to make life happier and more enduring. Notwithstanding this, the ap- plications of discovery continue to be obstructed by conventions of thought and shortness of vision. The present story is an account of difficulties pre- sented in extending the old by the new. It may interest the reader to know that the fiction of the present story is but a subtle statement of actual difficulties and how they are being overcome. It is further true that the psychical features are recorded as they were actually experienced. THE SOLUTION THE SOLUTION CHAPTER I Some years ago, in a quaint old house nestling under the eaves of the big Hotel St. George and within a stone’s throw of the historical Plymouth Church, our story begins. This had been at one time the old aristocratic section of Brooklyn. It was now about equally claimed by the old families and the new. In the second floor front of this house sat a young woman whose attention was equally divided between the disordered condition of the room which indicated either a fire or a recent move and six bright and shining objects resembling percolators which were displayed on the table before her. She was now studying the lines of these objects, anxious to make them conform to the excellence of the interiors. For it was the contents of these objects that had cost Catherine Summers many years of study and experimentation. Catherine, though still young in appearance, was no longer gay and lively. The dimples had vanished 9 10 The Solution from her cheeks, and to her mouth had come a set expression that did not indicate levity. Her hopes had soared valiantly one day only to be dashed into an abyss of fear the next when one chemical did not work, or the flux was not right. She had endured a constantly changing life in which no living creature but herself could enter, — alone with her hopes, — alone with her fears, — deserted by her friends, whom she no longer had the time nor the inclination to entertain. Trained as an artist, in spite of her several years^ experience with chemicals, Catherine still retained the artist’s keenness in observation. This had proved to be of infinite use to her in her later studies. She had been a successful artist, too, earning quite enough to indulge her hobbies for horses and boats, which she considered promoters of her health. Colds had always harassed her from October until May, but she noticed that these abated during the sum- mer when she had lived aboard her big houseboat. It was then she conceived the idea of drawing the oxygen from water to purify the blood. This, then, had been the beginning of her dream, a mechanism to convert water anywhere and every- where in the world into a beneficial water which would purify, making puny bodies strong and healthful ; a living water, with public fountains where the myriads of poor in all the great cities could come and drink. In the row of bright and shining objects before her The Solution 11 she saw her dream taking material shape, becoming an established fact, a disputed fact, a very disturb- ing fact, with some people, but a persistent fact, nevertheless. For now Catherine was no longer distracted by colds all winter, and many, besides herself, had found the same relief. These many had begun to hand in their observations to her. These were to become the nucleus of her dreams. Out of the nebula of her past hopes and fears a strange courageous sun had taken shape and power to come forth into the rosy dawn of a marvelous new day. . . .Yes, that one had the best lines . . . she picked up one of the “per- colators,” and set it off by itself. The sun had be- gun to rise for all the world to see. Her meditations were disturbed by a knock at the door. It was her cousin Franklin, from Summers- town, who had come to the city to learn the banking business. He was young and full of enthusiasm, and though but recently come into Catherine’s life, she prized his companionship. “Hello, Catherine,” he greeted her. “What is this display.? Got all your babies here to-night, I guess.” Catherine was in the habit of referring to the latest of her inventions each time as “her youngest child.” So she laughed, knowing perfectly well that he was alluding to her “percolators,” as he some- times called them. 12 The Solution “Yes,” she answered, “I brought them all over from the shop purposely to see you. Now,” as she surveyed the shining row, “it is your duty and privi- lege to judge which one is the prettiest.” “This one I don’t like,” said Franklin, picking up one with a rather heavy cornice-like ring in the center. “It looks too much like a Gold Dust Twin, this does. And this one, the faucet is too long. It looks like an old man with a hook nose.” He looked the others over without much more irrelevant comment. Finally he decided on the very one which Catherine had chosen. “Well done,” said Catherine, giving Franklin a look which he knew meant that she was pleased with his selection. “That was my choice, too. You have quite a deal of the artist in you despite your pref- erence for the hum-drum vocation of banking.” “It wasn’t that I yearned to be a banker, you know. The vocation was, more or less, thrust upon me,” said Franklin. He then turned to observe Catherine’s Aquariums, consisting of three fish globes arranged in a row on one of the deep window seats. These fish were a constant source of amusement to Franklin. But their purpose to Catherine had been the more expedient one of instruction and experi- mentation. She frequently referred to them as, “My friends, the Fishes.” Franklin watched her as she changed their water. The Solution 13 She filled one globe with water from one of the machines, the next with water from another machine, and the last with tap water. Franklin asked whether the oxygenated water would go to their heads, and make them silly. Catherine looked at the fish criti- cally then, wondering if those in the treated water waved their tails and wiggled their fins more rap- turously than those in the tap water. Honesty was one of Catherine’s virtues. She was forced to ad- mit that they were all about equally joyous. She had bought some of the black and gold specimens which the Japanese are said to breed in such a way that they acquire the black spots. Franklin won- dered if the treated water would take out the black spots, causing them to become all gold again. Catherine wondered what the effect would be, too ; and so she divided these about equally in the three globes to await results. They both found endless amusement watching the fish with a preponderance of fins and tails. Franklin said that they looked like ladies with so much train and clothes that they could hardly navigate. As they were making comments upon the different fish some one knocked in a peremptory manner. Catherine did not respond by the informal ‘‘Come in,” but opened the door. “Good evening,” said the newcomer, in a crisp and jerky way to Catherine; then he addressed 14 The Solution Franklin with, “Hello, mate, how have you been?” Franklin enjoyed the distinction of being mate on Catherine’s only remaining boat, the Tip Top, her big houseboat having burned. He seemed glad to greet the newcomer, Mr. Mills, who shook hands very heartily with him. Then Mills turned to Catherine, and said, “Now that you are out of busi- ness, and can do these men no more favors, I’m afraid some of them are going to get mean about paying”; for collecting had been Mr. Mills’ voca- tion when Catherine had had her studio, and he was well adapted in handling delinquents. His eyes were not sharp and blue for nothing ; and there was alert- ness and decision in his every move. “I know you can get the money from them if any one can,” she told him. She knew that she had not the gift of persuasion to extract money from an obdurate clientele that Mr. Mills had. She was very glad that he had undertaken to collect the out- standing debts. Franklin suspected that they might wish to have some business conversation together. So he grace- fully lied by saying he had an engagement. “Oh, nonsense, just an engagement to study,” said Catherine. “Here is some fish food. You may feed the fishes while Mr. Mills and I go over this account; it won’t take very long, will it?” and she turned to Mills for the hearty approbation she did not get. Mills evidently had other things on his The Solution 15 mind. Franklin was quick to see this. Despite Catherine’s protests he took his leave, promising to call in again soon. Mr. Mills looked relieved when he had gone, though he liked the boy well enough. He really wanted to persuade Catherine to give up her experimenting. For in spite of the improved condition of her health and the concrete results of her labors now arrayed on the table before them, to his finite mind she seemed headed for destruction. “For heaven’s sake,” he warned, “take care of this money !” He handed her the fruits of his labor consisting of half a dozen checks and bills. You don’t know how many years it may be before you can make any money on these things,” and he pointed somewhat contemptuously at the six bright objects on the table. “How dare you be so scornful of my children!” she exclaimed, smiling. “Every one says they are very bright-looking children.” Mills seemed amused for a moment at the play on words. “Yes, bright and shiny enough,” he said. Then he went on abruptly. “You know everybody thinks this idea of yours is impracticable. I would advise you to buy back the studio ; for if this idea of yours fails you will have to start all over again. Unless,” — ^and here he interrupted himself by giving her an oblique glance, “unless you expect to get married.” 16 The Solution “Which idea is absurd. Marrriage, is an act I have no desire of committing,” she said, looking straight at Mills. He returned her look, search- ingly. Had she refused him so many times because of some one else whom she loved, he wondered.^ Or had she really become so immersed in this invention.^ He wondered if she was grieving for Mr. Burrell, a very good and old friend, who had made money for Catherine to experiment with. Mr. Burrell had re- cently met with foul play when carrying a large sum of money on his person. There would be no more fortunate turns on Wall Street from that quar- ter. Was Catherine grieving for him.? He was silent for several minutes, a very unusual condition for Mills, who was ordinarily the embodiment of nervous activity. Catherine broke in upon his meditative mood by remarking: “IVe just had a letter from Mr. Spots; you knew that he went West.?” Catherine had dropped into a daydream when Mills replied, “I should think he would want to go West after making you lose all the money that poor Mr. Burrell had made for you.” Since Mr. Burrell was out of the running as a suitor for Catherine’s hand. Mills could now alford to be sympathetic in his behalf. “He didn’t make me lose it. He advised against my doing just what I did,” countered Catherine. “Anyway,” said Mills, “you can’t deny that he The Solution 17 introduced you to the old rascal,” for Mr. Spots had become a very sore spot with Mills. In studio days, Mr. Mills had been the custodian of the bank ac- count, and had taken great pride in the achievement of Mr, Burrell, whenever he increased Catherine’s account by several clever turns on the market. But when Mr. Spots had come along and had been the means of introducing Catherine to Mr. Roace, a wily old rascal who had depleted the bank account, even the ruin of Mr. Spots also did not excuse his behavior in the eyes of Mr. Mills. “Well, what does Mr. Spots say.? Any chance of getting your money from that old fraud Roace.?” “Not much chance, I guess,” said Catherine. “Well, I could have told you there wouldn’t be the ghost of a show. Now I suppose he’ll be sup- porting the old man’s wife, and probably sending flowers to the crazy old fool, besides. I just cal- culated that rascal would be foxy enough to go crazy if he were caught. He was smart enough for that, all right.” Mills had been standing, during this conversation, for there seemed to be objects piled on every comfort- able chair. Catherine had not as yet found the time to put her things in order. Her quarters, too, were much more cramped here than in New York. Her real reason for moving to Brooklyn had been for economy’s sake and the chance to give her undivided attention to what she now considered her life pur- 18 The Solution pose. Mills now proceeded without ceremony to unload the things occupying the most comfort- able chair upon one less desirable. “There,” he de- cided, when he was ensconsed, “that is more like it. Do you think you will ever get this place to look nice and cozy like the place on the Avenue.'* Looks to me as if you had brought enough junk to furnish a flat instead of a moderate-sized room.” “I suppose I will have to get rid of it,” said Catherine, looking rather helplessly at the disorder. “But of course you won’t dispose of those fool fishes, and you will take up your table space with those ‘Aquators,’ or whatever you call them.” “Dear me,” said Catherine, somewhat wearily, “I do wish you would come in sometime when you were less fault-finding.” “Nice polite way of asking a fellow to leave after he has collected a bunch of bills for you. I’m not going, though, not just yet. But if you don’t con- sent to marry me, I’m going to leave for good and all. Of course you’ve told me that you wouldn’t, but remember you haven’t the friends you had when you entertained on the houseboat and on the Avenue. Even your oldest standby, Mr. Burrell, and Mr. Spots are gone now. And the best and kindest of them all, a real true blue, — I’d call Miss Russell, — has gone away. Why, you haven’t any one now but your uncle and a cousin or two that you see once in a blue moon.” The Solution 19 “Yes, I know that I’m very much alone; but I have had to have seclusion for my experimenting. I shall miss Miss Russell more than any one, for she was always interested and optimistic.” “I suppose she writes regularly?” asked Mills. “Oh, yes,” replied Catherine. “But I don’t think I should have left New York so soon if it hadn’t made me so homesick to go past my old home there.” Mills had, with malice aforethought, tried to make her feel her loneliness. He judged that here was a proper pause in which to make his stand. “Now, see here, Catherine,” he said, in about as persuasive a tone as he could assume (persuasion of the softer kind not being in his line), “if you don’t marry and settle down pretty soon you will be a lonely old maid all your life.” “Do you think I wouldn’t be lonely if I married you?” asked Catherine. “Nobody has ever complained of loneliness when I was around,” said Mills. “I can usually stir things up.” “That’s quite true. No one has ever complained of monotony when you were near. But I should be lonely, — for you haven’t the slightest interest in what I am trying to do. I should be very, very lonely if I married you. Mills.” “Oh, darn it, then don’t,” said Mills, petulantly, feeling that he had lost out in this, his hundredth and avowedly last proposal to Catherine. “But I 20 The Solution will get married, just the same. You’ll see. And I’m not going to stay around here and collect your bills. You have been making a fool of a fellow.” “Nonsense !” said Catherine, this time somewhat nettled herself. “Our business relations have kept us friends. You were of value to me, and I have been of value to you. Your position was a good one, and you enjoyed the freedom it gave you. Now you needn’t say I’ve made a fool of you at all, for I haven’t.” “Well, then, you haven’t,” and, feeling in a some- what repentant mood, he added, “Well, I’ll finish the collecting for you, anyway.” “That’s a good old Towser dog,” said Catherine, “always watching my bank account.” “The chances are that you won’t have any to watch very long,” he told her. “Well, good night,” he said abruptly and carefully slammed the door. “Dear me,” mused Catherine, “there was a splen- did man simply spoiled because his mother didn’t spank him when he was young. But I’m not going to make the corrections his mother neglected. Some other woman can assume that undertaking.” She looked about the room then to find a suitable place to put several books that were on the desk. She liked to keep her desk clear, for she often wanted to write when an idea came to her out of the clear skies, a bolt from the blue, as she called it. Then she would write rapidly on a scrap of paper which The Solution 21 she carefully filed. As she had taken the comfort- able chair which Mills had relieved of its burden of books she rested her head against its cushions while her hand rested lightly on the table still holding the pencil. No human being seemed to be within the radius of her thought. A peculiar drowsiness came over her. Then, without her volition, her hand moved and begun to make some sort of characters on the paper. This had the effect of rousing her. She wondered what was moving her hand, as she did not direct it, it could not be herself. She did not get frightened, for she was too thoroughly curious. The hand continued to try to make characters. When it reached the bottom of the page Catherine could resist her curiosity no longer. She rose then, and turned on the light. She saw a great number of scrawls from which she made out one message that was repeated three times. “M. K. S. is in trouble.” There were other scrawls, and an occasional word could be made out. But there was no doubt about the legibility of “M. K. S. is in trouble.” Catherine had heard that there was such a thing as “automatic writing,” but she had never consid- ered herself as a medium. It now occurred to her to ask, “Who is M. K. S..?^” She wrote her question at the top of a fresh page, and turned olf the light again, waiting to see what would happen. The an- swer came quite promptly in a very big scrawl: 22 The Solution “Your Mother.” Catherine’s own mother’s name had been Mary Katherine, the “K” being used as the initial. She believed, but did not know for certain, that she had been called by^the two names. So she asked, “Which mother, — my living mother ?” This time the answer was very prompt: “No, your own mother !” This caused Catherine to think very hard, indeed. Her feeling of loneliness was now assuredly gone. She felt that the room was filled. But she was not sure that she liked it. She did not remember her mother, so she felt no grief at her loss. She had sometimes wondered, since her experimenting, if her dead mother would have been in sympathy with her had she been living. At times Catherine felt that she might be near her. But she had not supposed that such a direct communication, even in the wildest flights of her fancy, would have been possible. Now Catherine sat quietly thinking for some min- utes ; she was aware of the fact that there was such a thing as the subconscious mind. She thought that might be directing her hand. Then she re- solved to treat the supposed communicator as if it were her mother. So she wrote: “Have you seen Grandpa Summers lately?” Each time after she asked a question she allowed her hand to remain passive. Almost immediately this time it wrote: “No, I don’t see him very often. He has gone to another plane.” Then followed a great deal of The Solution 23 illegible writing with only a word now and then that was plain. But at the end it said : “He has not the same interest in remaining near the earth plane as I have.” Catherine remembered to ask : “What was the trouble you spoke about in your first message.?” The reply was, “M. K. S. has been trying to reach you for a very long time. The trouble was that I could not seem to make your hand move so as to convey any meaning. When you assert yourself I am powerless.” Catherine then wrote, “I have been in some little seances. Why did you not take advantage of the opportunity to communicate.?” “Because I did not think the mediums were sin- cere.” Catherine now felt tired, and she was not one to overdo a new experience. She wished to think it over in broad daylight. This time she did not write her thought. She said to herself, “I think I shall go to bed.” Then she relaxed her hand, and the answer came as promptly as when she had written the questions : “Good night, dearest.” Catherine immediately turned on the light and saw that it was nearly two o’clock. It was ten o’clock when she had first sat down, and she must have been in a half-trance since. She prepared her- self for bed, and was soon sound asleep. When she awoke the next morning her first thought was of her 24 The Solution experience of the night before. She actually thought then that she must have dreamed it. But she went to the desk where she remembered putting the papers, and found the sheets. She looked at them curiously. “I will try again to-night,” she thought, “perhaps it is only transient.” Then she went to a small closet-like place which she had had built. Here she evaporated the waters from her different machines. She noticed that some alloys made blue water, and others red and orange. She recalled the dream she had had long ago where a fountain with multicolored sparkling waters fell in a pool and mingled, and became a fountain for healing. She wondered if there could be any con- nection between that dream and her present experi- ence, if there could be a great power directing her. She would ask that question this very night, she thought. Later in the morning Catherine went over to her little shop, or rather, a part of a shop, and busied herself. But contrary to her custom of thinking con- tinuously of her invention her thoughts would recur to the events of the night before. The laboratory part of her work she had long since moved to the suburbs. For she had had several successful “fire scares,” and had been obliged to take her experiments out of the city, — ^by the special request of landlord and neighbors. When she got back to her room she found she still had plenty of work to do, for she The Solution 25 had not yet succeeded in getting settled in her new quarters. She became almost exasperated trying to find places for various books, ornaments, and some of her experimental paraphernalia for which she had had plenty of room in her spacious Fifth Avenue studio, but which filled her present big room to overflowing. She finally came to the conclusion that, if she were ever to get order out of chaos she would have to dispense with many of her treasures. She went to her landlady, Mrs. Goodwin, and told her trouble. “I think I had better send a lot of these things home,’^ she said. “Do you know where I can get a large box.?’^ “You won’t need a box, for I have some very large canvas bags you may have,” said the good-natured Mrs. Goodwin. She disappeared into a remote and dark closet which were common in the old-style houses, and brought forth two extremely large bags. Catherine was elated at the find. “Thank you, they are just the things I need. Now I’ll see if I can evolve some order out of this confusion. I’ll send them home. For they have plenty of room there, and if I need anything, I can get them out when I go up.” When Catherine began packing her superfluous be- longings she sobered somewhat, wondering dubiously if they would want to care for her things there. Catherine’s experiments had been a sore trial to both her stepmother and her sister Nella. “For your 26 The Solution own good,” Tier stepmother would say, who opposed Catherine vigorously. The idea of converting ordi- nary water into a beneficial one by simply adding an attachment had seemed too preposterous to them for serious contemplation. Finally there was a tacit understanding that the subject should not be men- tioned. Catherine's reflection that her things might not be welcome did not deter her, however. She packed vigorously. When she had finished she dragged the ponderous bags out into the spacious square hall. “I’ll send a call for them to-night, and just write that they are coming,” she said. Then she looked at the improved order of things, and reflected, with great relief, that one could now find a place to sit in contort without seeming to intrude one’s self on literature or art objects. The one big window-seat she would keep for a studio, and the other for a combined aquarium and laboratory, she decided. So, with a parting glance at what now appeared to be a nice cozy room she departed in search of her solitary evening meal. She wandered up Fulton Street looking in each restaurant to see how inviting it looked, and if there were ladies at the tables. She finally came to a restaurant with the demo- cratic cognomen of “Joe’s” and noticed that the waiters were attired in faultless white. There was some appreciation of art, too, for the walls were The Solution 27 decorated with pretty mosaics. She thought she would give “Joe’s” place a trial. She found the service and the food good but she did not enjoy it to the extent it merited. She was thinking of “M. K. S.,” and wondering if she would return to- night. When she reached her room again she made herself comfortable and rested her hand lightly upon the paper as before. But this puzzling thought kept coming to her. “Why, if it is possible to communi- cate in this way, did not the experience come before Anyway, it probably is the subconscious mind, which is known to be a great impersonator, she thought. Her hand did hot move at all now, and she felt dis- tinctly disappointed. “Perhaps my mind isn’t pas- sive enough,” Catherine thought. Her hand quiv- ered, but did not actually move. Finally it did move. And then, in a rather large and clear scrawl it wrote, “M. K. S. is so glad to tell you that she still lives, and is much happier than when on the earth plane.” Catherine then wrote, “If this is really my mother, cannot you say something reassuring and convinc- ing?” The reply was : “I am with you always, even when you are busiest, and I will never leave you.” This was a very lovely thought, but it did not serve to convince Catherine. She was so accus- tomed to look for physical cause and effect that she 28 The Solution was somewhat out of touch with the spiritual. She thought she had become too literal. Catherine wrote: “Are you with papa and Nella also.?” “They are ever in my thoughts, but I am not their guide. I am yours.” “Does this mean that you are with me all of the time.?” “M. K. S. does not leave you unless you are sleep- ing. Then she often takes you up in the eighth plane where we have many friends.” Catherine remembered that she was familiar with the sensation of having returned from afar when she aWoke. But she had always thought it a vague dream. She now made no attempt to ask a question but remained relaxed. Soon the hand started again and wrote: “M. K. S. is waiting for you and Papa to come.” Visions of the traditional heaven, where the in- habitants played on golden harps and wore crowns came to Catherine, and she could but smile at the thought of her father in this position. So she asked : “Will papa have to play a harp.? Are there no funny or witty spirits.?” The reply was : “M. K. S. thinks that Papa would be very much out of place playing a harp. He will simply develop along the lines of what his individu- ality has been on the earth. Yes, we do have witty spirits here, who make harmless sport of things The Solution 29 which are not sacred. But they do not have their merriment at the expense of some other spirit. Your ‘fun^ on earth is usually at the expense of some other mortal.” Catherine stopped to slip another piece of paper under her hand. But when the pencil again started it was nothing but scrawls. She did not understand this, so she willfully stopped. After a few moments she again relaxed, and the pencil wrote: “There was no other spirit trying to interfere, as you thought. M. K. S. will not allow it. But sometimes you try to control your hand, and then I cannot write. Some- times I wish to express something which I cannot readily translate into your symbols.” Catherine confessed to herself that night as she retired that she could not understand this phenome- non. But whatever the power was, it did seem to have good sense, a quality she had found to be lack- ing in any manifestations purporting to come from spirit land which she had seen or heard previously. She wondered if their seeming incoherency might not have resulted from their inability to express them- selves in the symbols of the earth plane. After she was quietly in bed and composed she thought over the advisability of telling her experi- ence to any one. She decided that she would wait until she had made better headway with her theory of oxygenating the blood through the drinking of water. They might say that her mind had been 30 The Solution affected as a result of too much study. But they certainly could not say that her health had been ruined. She had never been so well in her life. When first she had started to drink the water she had made a color card somewhat similar to those physicians use to determine the hemoglobin in the blood, the shades ran from the brilliant red of the arterial to the very dark red of the venous blood, when it becomes entirely lacking in oxygen, and is much polluted. Her training as an artist served her well in those observations, for the slightest change in form or color was quickly noted by her. She had noted the color of her venous blood when she started to drink the water, and she had noted it at various periods afterward, with the result that the blood became three shades lighter. It had taken some time to do this. Even Franklin commented on the improved ap- pearance of Catherine. He also remarked that she no longer had colds. He became an enthusiastic supporter, and this cemented their friendship. Catherine felt the need of enthusiasm from some one, and he, in a measure took the place of her dear friend Miss Russell. She now concluded that with the data she had collected and her own case, she ought to report to her doctor. He seemed pleased with her progress and told her to continue collect- ing data, preferably through physicians. There were some convincing things about the water, as her The Solution 31 own case proved. But there were still some phases about the water that she did not understand. The most pronounced of these was the effect upon elimi- nation. She had taken an Aquator with her and he asked her to explain its working in detail, which she was glad to do. He then promised her any observa- tions which he should make. “It will take some time to establish what you have already proved to your own satisfaction. But it is worth while, and do not get discouraged,” he told her. In about two weeks he telephoned for Aquators for both his town and country homes. So Catherine judged he was making observations; but she did not trouble him for an opinion for several months. She knew it would take a very long time. CHAPTER II Several evenings passed. Mills did not come in again with bills that he had collected for Catherine, and she began to wonder what could have happened. Although he had gone away in an irritable mood, his intensest anger usually exhausted itself in about fifteen minutes. Temporarily his temper also ex- hausted any innocent bystander who happened to be in the immediate vicinity. Catherine decided to telephone him. He recog- nized her voice at once and said : “Hello. Spent all the money I left when I was last in, I suppose. Well, I haven’t collected any more. And if I haven’t got any money I needn’t come around, I suppose. That’s just about what you said when I was in last.” Catherine was prepared for his raillery, and she an- swered good-naturedly, “Oh, nonsense! You know I want to see you, anyway.” But Mills was not to be mollified immediately, according to his wont. Be- fore long, he capitulated, however, and promised to be around that evening. Catherine hung up the receiver, convinced that she would have to handle Mills with more tact and diplomacy if she wanted him to collect the balance of her bills. When he came in his first remark was to compli- 32 The Solution 33 ment her on the improvement she had made in re- arranging her room. “I see you cleared a place to sit down now,” he said, “and also a place for your friends to sit. But what in the world are all of these things doing here yet.?” and he pointed to the row of little machines as if he considered them un- welcome usurpers of space. Mills’ contempt for the machines had notably in- creased since he had procured a cask of beer from a brewer with the object of experimenting. His practical mind had conceived what he thought to be a great idea. He told the brewer that he had a patent that would produce a superior article by in- jecting oxygen into the beer. To Mills’ disappoint- ment and chagrin the machine had “oxidized” the beer so thoroughly that it came out practically water. Mills did not have the nerve to approach the brewer again. Catherine urged him to report the result, anyway. But Mills argued, “That brewer’s a husky chap, and he might lick me if I told him I’d made water out of his beer.” This put Mills under the grave suspicion of having pro- cured the beer for personal use. One day he acci- dentally met the brewer who irately demanded to know what had become of the beer. “D^ stuff all went to water!” exclaimed Mills, and took to his heels. In telling the story afterwards Mills ex- plained : “I knew I could run faster than that old fat duffer, so I didn’t take any chances on getting 34 The Solution licked.” So Catherine understood Mills’ irritation when he saw her array of these offenders. She made a feeble effort to change the subject by re- marking that Franklin had gone home for a week. “Guess he’ll be blamed glad to get a rest from your eternal chatter about the machines,” said Mills. “It’s really not a machine, you know,” said Catherine, wishing now to take the defensive. “It’s a filter.” “By George ! Should think it was ! Filters so there’s nothing left.” “With beer as the objective, I don’t doubt that in the least,” said Catherine, with equanimity. “Good thing you didn’t live in the days when there were witches. You would have been burned for what that machine does. Now why in thunder didn’t you make a machine so it would turn water into beer.f^ Then people would consider it a Household Necessity.” “Practically all of your friends have made that suggestion. At least all of those who have heard of your experiment,” said Catherine, with considerable emphasis on the “your.” “Yes, by George! They have all heard of it, don’t take you long to circulate a j oke if the laugh’s on me.” Catherine again wished that he would get off the subject. She wanted to know if he had made any collections, but she was reticent about asking him. The Solution 35 “Oh, I have an idea,” she said, and draped a pretty Indian scarf over the offenders. “There now. Maybe you will be able to think of me for a moment when you don’t have to see the machines.” But she immediately realized that this had been an unfortu- nate remark. “Gosh blame it, anyway. That’s just what I don’t want to do. I’ve been trying to get you out of my mind !” “Oh, nonsense. Mills! You’ve always \been so good and faithful I thought we were going to be friends forever, — ^when you get over this idea you have for marrying. For me to marry and devote my time to making a home for you would be inhuman on my part from the observations I have of what these colloids can do. You are very good in business, but you know yourself that you have been detrimental rather than helpful to me where my experiments were concerned.” “Well, I haven’t been the only detrimental one. I don’t see that any one has encouraged you except- ing Miss Russell, who has gone away. Mr. Burrell just liked to encourage your fads, but you won’t have him any more to jolly you along. And Frank- lin, who don’t know any better, looks too frail to stand this city life for long. So you’ll probably lose him, too, before long. Now aren’t you alone “But,” remonstrated Catherine, “even if I don’t see these three I’m still conscious of their support. And even if I happened to be the only living person 36 The Solution in this world or on any other planet who knew the truth concerning certain things, then it would be all the more incumbent upon me to demonstrate that truth. I do not expect to be popular for the next few years. People who tell the truth and upset the old order of things seldom are popular, even though they eventually save thousands of lives. But I shall make friends, after a time, through benefiting others.” “People nearly always hate their benefactors,” said Mills. But he looked sober and less irritated. “Then I shall be doing right simply because I know that it is right,” replied Catherine, decisively. “That is one of mama’s precepts, you know.” “But I thought your mother’s sense of justice and your idea of doing right would be different. For she and all your family have opposed you in this experimenting business,” argued Mills. “For the reason that they do not know what I expect to accomplish. Do you honestly believe that any normal human being is opposed to saving life unless the opposition arises from ignorance.?^” “Yes,” said Mills, “if your method causes any- body to lose money. Then you would see how very little human lives counted.” Catherine knew that Mills’ practicality was incor- rigible. She looked exasperated. “It doesn’t seem possible to me that men can be so pin-headed, so near-sighted, and so utterly oyster-like that they The Solution 37 can’t see beyond their own petty shells of self-inter- est,” said Catherine. “But anyway, I know dif- ferent. There must be some men in the world who have vision, some big souls who want to help human- ity. It will be my business to find these.” “Oh, lots of them will wish you well, I’ve no doubt about that. But wait until you have asked them for money. Then their tune will change. Why even if you could accomplish in your lifetime all that you hope to do, it’s too big a thing for one person. You can’t swing such a big proposition alone. I’m just simply looking at things as they are to-day for you. Your business is gone, and no one is near on whom you can rely. Why, you are as alone as ‘The Last Rose of Summer.^ ” This was a poetic masterpiece of a simile, coming from prag- matic Mills. “Yes, I know,” said Catherine’s audible voice. But her inner voice seemed to whisper, “This it not true.” Then her face brightened perceptibly. “Per- haps not so alone as you think,” she added. “What are you thinking about now.?^” asked Mills, suspiciously. “Mr. Sporty Spots? I didn’t think he would still be on the carpet after letting that old rascal Roace get away with all your money. Then he cleared out himself, to cap the climax. “I don’t think you need ever expect any returns from that direction.” Catherine was piqued at his criticism of the well- 38 The Solution meaning Mr. Spots. But she wanted to conciliate Mills. “As for my ever having cared for Mr. Spots,” she said, “you have had the facts of that case ever so many times over again. There’s absolutely noth- ing in it. He would be a good friend if he were here, and you know that, too. For he is naturally kind and optimistic.” “Should think he would want to be,” muttered Mills. “Do you know that, even after all of your years spent in work, study and experimenting, people at large will say you didn’t invent it.?* That is, if it turns out to be anything successful. They wouldn’t want to give a woman credit for doing any great big thing like you are trying to put over.” “Yes, they said Columbus was crazy, too. And whatever sea any Columbus chooses to attempt, it is by his courage that the stay-at-home minds are oft- times enriched. They say, too, that Shakespeare didn’t write his plays, or that Mrs. Eddy didn’t write ‘Science and Health’ ; and so on down the line. We always find little minds trying to attract attention to themselves by detracting from the really great. 