Over an absent bottle by W. C. Morrow. Arthur Kimberland, a
young man of very high spirit, found himself a total stranger in San Francisco
one rainy evening at a time when his heart was breaking, for his hunger
was of that most poignant kind in which physical suffering is forced to the highest
point without impairment of the mental functions. There remained in his possession not a
thing that he might have pawned for morsels to eat, And even as it
was, he had stripped his body of all articles of clothing, except those
which a remaining sense of decency compelled him to retain. Hence it was that
cold assailed him and conspired with hunger to complete his misery. Having been brought
into the world and reared a gentleman, he liked the courage to beg and
the skill to steal. Had not an extraordinary thing happened to him, he
either would have drowned himself in the bay within twenty four hours or died of
pneumonia in the street. He had been seventy hours without food, and his
mental desperation had driven him far in its race. With his physical needs to
consume the strength within him so that now pale, weak and tottering, he
took what comfort he could find in the savory odors which came steaming up from
the basement kitchens of the restaurants in Market Street. Came more to gain them
than to avoid the rain. His teeth chattered, he shambled, stooped,
and gasped. He was too desperate to curse his fate. He could only
long for food. He could not reason, He could not understand that ten
thousand hands might gladly have fed him. He could think only of the hunger
which consumed him, and of food that could give him warmth and happiness.
When he had arrived at Mason Street, he saw a restaurant a little way
up that thoroughfare, and for that he headed, Crossing the street diagonally.
He stopped before the window and ogled the stakes, thick and lined with fat,
big oysters, lying on ice, slices of ham as large as his
hat, whole roasted chickens, brown and juicy. He ground his teeth,
groaned, and staggered on a few steps. Beyond this was a drinking saloon,
which had a private door at one side, with the words family Entrance
painted thereon in the recess of the door, which was closed stood a man.
In spite of his agony, Kimberland saw something in the man's face that
appalled and fascinated him. Night was on and the light in the vicinity was
dim, but it was apparent that the stranger had an appearance of whose character
he himself must have been ignorant. Perhaps it was the unspeakable anguish of it
that struck through Kimberland's sympathies. The young man came to an uncertain halt and
stared at the stranger. At first he was unseen, for the stranger looked
straight out into the street with singular fixity, and the deathlike pallor of his
face added a weirdness to the immobility of his gaze. Then he took notice
of the young man. He said, slowly, and with a peculiar distinctness,
the rain has caught you too, without overcoat or umbrella, Stand in
the stoorway. There's room for two. The voice was not unkind, though
it had an alarming hardness. It was the first word that had been addressed
to the sufferer since hunger had seized him, and to be spoken to it
all and have his comfort regarded in the slightest way gave him cheer. He
entered the embrasure and stood beside the stranger, who at once relapsed into his
fixed gaze at nothing across the street. But presently the stranger stirred himself again.
It may rain a long time, said he. I am cold,
and I observe that you tremble. Let us step inside and get a drink.
He opened the door, and Kimberlyn followed hope, beginning to lay a
warm hand upon his heart. The pale stranger led the way into one of
the little private booths with which the place was furnished. Before sitting down,
he put his hand into his pocket and drew forth a roll of bank bills.
You are younger than I, he said. Won't you go to the
bar and buy a bottle of absinthe and bring a pitcher of water and some
glasses. I don't like for the waiters to come around. Here's a twenty
dollar bill. Kimberland took the bill and started down the corridor towards the bar.
He clutched the money tightly in his palm. It felt warm and comfortable,
and sent a delicious tingling through his arm. How many glorious hot meals
did that bill represent? He clunched it tighter and hesitated. He thought he
smelled a broiled steak with fat little mushrooms and melted butter in the steaming dish.
He stopped and looked back towards the door of the booth. He saw
that the stranger had closed it. He could pass it, slip out the
door, and buy something to eat. He turned and started, but the
coward in him there are other names for this tripped his resolution. So he
went straight to the bar and made the purchase. This was so unusual that
the man who served him looked sharply at him. Ain't gonna drink all of
that, are you? He asked. I have friends in the box,
replied Kimberlyn, and we want to drink quietly and without interruption. We are
in number seven. Oh beg, pardon, that's all right, said the
man. Kimberlyn's step was very much stronger and steadier as he returned with the
liquor. He opened the door of the booth. The stranger sat at the
side of the little table, staring at the opposite wall, just as he
has stared across the street. He wore a wide brimmed slouch hat drawn well
down. It was only after kimberly And had set the bottle, pitcher and
glasses on the table and seated himself opposite the stranger and within his range of
vision, that the paleman noticed him. Oh you have brought it. How
kind of you? Now? Please locked the door. Kimberland had slipped the
change into his pocket and was in the act of bringing it out when the
stranger said, keep the change. You will need it for I am going
to get it back in a way that may interest you. Let us first
drink, and then I will explain. The paleman makes two drinks of absinthe
and water, and the two drink. Kimberlyn, unsophisticated, had never tasted
the liquor before, and he found it harsh and offensive. But no sooner
had it reached the stomach than it began to warm him and sent the most
delicious thrill through his frame. It will do as good, said the stranger.
Presently we shall have more. Meanwhile, do you know how to throw
dice? Kimberlyn weakly confessed that he did not. I thought not. Well,
Please go to the bar and bring a dice. Box. I would
ring for it, but I don't want the waiters to be coming in.
Kimberlyn fetched the box again, locked the door, and the game began.
It was not one of the simple old games, but had complications in which
judgment as well as chance played a part. After a game or two without
stakes, the stranger said, you now seem to understand it very well.
I will show you that you do not. We will now throw for a
dollar a game, and in that way I shall win the money that you
received and change. Otherwise I should be robbing you, and I imagine you
cannot afford to lose. I mean no offense. I am a plain spoken
man, but I believe in honesty before politeness. I merely want a little
diversion, and you are so kind natured that I am sure you will not
object. On the contrary, replied Kimberlyn, I shall enjoy it very well,
but let us have another drink before we start. I believe I am
growing colder. They drink again, and this time the starving man took his
liquor with a relish. At least it was something in his stomach, and
it warmed and delighted him. The steak was a dollar a side. Kimberland
won, and the pale stranger smiled grimly and opened another game again. Kimberland
won. Then the stranger pushed back his hat and fixed that still gaze upon
his opponent, smiling. Yet with this full view of the pale stranger's face,
Kimberland was more appalled than ever. He had begun to acquire a certain
self possession and ease, and his marveling at the singular character of the adventure
had begun to weaken when this new instant threw him back into confusion. It
was the extraordinary expression of the stranger's face that alarmed him. Never upon the
face of a living being had he seen a pallor so deathlike and chilling.
The face was more than pale, it was white. Kimberland's observing faculty had
been sharpened by the absence, and after having detected the stranger in an absent
minded effort two or three times to stroke a beard which had no existence,
he reflected that some of the whiteness of the face might be due to the
recent removal of a full beard. Besides the pallor, there were deep and
sharp lines upon the face which the electric light brought out very distinctly, with
the exception of the steady gaze of the eyes and an occasional hard smile that
seemed out of place upon such a face. The expression was that of stone
and artistically cut. The eyes were black, but of heavy expression. The
lower lip was purple. The hands were fine, white and thin, and
dark veins bulged out upon them. The stranger pulled down his hat. You
are lucky, he said, Suppose we try another drink. There is nothing
like absinthe to sharpen one's wits, and I see that you and I are
going to have a delightful game. After the drink, the game proceeded.
Kimberland won from the very first, rarely losing a game. He became greatly
excited. His eyes shone color came to his cheeks. The stranger, having
exhausted the roll of bills which he first produced, drew forth another, much
larger and of higher denominations. There were several thousand dollars in the role.
At Kimberland's right hand were his winnings, something like two hundred dollars. The
stakes were raised and the game went rapidly on. Another drink was taken,
then fortune turned the Stranger's way, and he won easily. It went back
to Kimberland, for he was now playing with all the judgment and skill he
could command. Once only did it occur to him to wonder what he should
do with the money if he should quit winter, but a sense of honor
decided him that it would belong to the stranger. By this time, the
absinthe had so sharpened Kimberland's faculties that the temporary satisfaction which it had brought to
his hunger, having passed his physical suffering, returned with increased aggressiveness. Could
he not order a supper with his earnings? No, that was out of
the question, and the stranger said nothing about eating. Kimberland continued to play
while the manifestations of hunger took the form of sharp pains which darted through him,
viciously, causing him to writhe and grind his teeth. The stranger paid
no attention, for he was now wholly absorbed in the game. He seemed
puzzled and disconcerted. He played with great care, studying each throne minutely.
No conversation passed between them. Now they drank occasionally, the dice continued to
rattle, the money kept piling up at Kimberland's hand. The pale man began
to behave strangely. At times, he would start and throw back his head
as though he were listening. For a moment, his eyes would sharpen and
flash, and then sink into heaviness again. More than once. Kimberland,
who had now begun to suspect that this antagonist with some kind of monster,
saw a frightfully ghastly expression sweep over his face, and his features would become
fixed for a very short time in a peculiar grimace. It was noticeable,
however, that he was steadily sinking deeper and deeper into a condition of apathy.
Occasionally he would raise his eyes to Kimberland's face after the young man had
made an astonishingly lucky throw, and keep them fixed there with a steadiness that
made the young man quail. The stranger produced another roll of bills when the
second was gone, and this had a value many times as great as the
others. Together, the stakes were raised to a thousand dollars a game,
and still Kimberland won. At last, the time came when a stranger braced
himself for a final effort. With speech somewhat thick, but very deliberate and
quiet, he said, you have won seventy four thousand dollars, which is
exactly the amount that I have remaining. We have been playing for several hours.
I am tired, and I suppose you are. Let us finish the
game. Each will now stake all and throw a final game for it without
hesitation. Kimberlyn agreed. The bills made a considerable pile on the table.
Kimberlyn threw, and the box held but one combination that could possibly defeat him.
This combination might be thrown one in ten thousand times. The starving man's
heart beat violently as the stranger picked up the box with exasperating deliberation. It
was a long time before he threw. He made his combinations and ended by
defeating his opponent. He sat and looked at the dice a long time,
and then he slowly leaned back in his chair, settling himself comfortably, raised
his eyes to Kimberlyn's and fixed that unearthly stare upon him. He said not
a word. His face contained not a trace of emotion or intelligence. He
simply looked. One cannot keep one's eyes open very long without winking, But
the stranger did. He sat so motionless that Kimberlyn began to be tortured.
I will go now, he said to the stranger, said that, when
he had not assent and was starving. The stranger made no reply, but
did not relax his gaze. Under that gaze, the young man shrank back
in his own chair, terrified. He became aware that two men were cautiously
talking in an adjoining booth, as there was now a deathly silence in his
own. He listened, and this is what he heard. Yes, he
was seen to turn into the street about three hours ago, and he was
shaved. He must have done so, and to remove a full beard would
naturally make a great change in a man. But it may not have been.
He true enough, but his extreme pallor attracted attention. You know that
he had been troubled with heart disease lately, and it has affected him seriously.
Yes, but his old skill remains. Why this is the most daring
bank robberie we had ever had here a hundred and forty eight thousand dollars.
Think of it. How long has it been since he was let out The
Joliet eight years. In that time he has grown a beard and lived by
dice throwing with men who thought they could detect him if he should swindle them.
But that is impossible. No human being can come winner out of a
game with him. He is evidently not here. Let us look farther.
And then the two men clinked glasses and passed out the dice players. The
pale one and the starving one sat gazing at each other, with a hundred
and forty eight thousand dollars piled up between them. The winner made no move
to take in the money. He merely sat and stared at Kimberland, wholly
unmoved by the conversation in the adjoining room. His imperturbability was amazing, his
absolute stillness terrifying. Kimberlyn began to shake with an ague. The cold,
steady gaze of the stranger sent ice into his marrow. Unable to bear longer
this unwavering look, Kimberlyn moved to one side, and then he was amazed
to discover that the eyes of the pale man, instead of following him,
remained fixed upon the spot where he had sat, or rather upon the wall
behind it. A great dread beset the young man. He feared to make
the slightest sound. Voices of the men in the bar room were audible,
and the sufferer imagined that he had heard others whispering and tiptoeing in the passage
outside his booth. He poured out some absinthe, watching his strange companion all
the while, and drank alone and unnoticed. He took a heavy drink,
and it had a peculiar effect upon him. He felt his heart bounding with
alarming force and rapidity, and breathing was difficult. Still, his hunger remained,
and that in the absinthe gave him an idea that the gastric acids were
destroying him by digesting his stomach. He leaned forward and whispered to the stranger,
but was given no attention. One of the man's hands lay upon the
table. Kimberland placed his upon it, and then drew back in terror.
The hand was as cold as a stone. The money must not lie there,
posed Kimberland arranged it into neat parcels, looking furtively every moment at his
immovable companion and immortal fear that he would stir. Then he sat back and
waited. A deadly fascination impelled him to move back into his former position so
as to bring his face directly before the gaze of the stranger, And so
the two sat and stared at each other. Kimberlynn felt his breath coming heavier
and his heartbeats growing weaker. But these conditions gave him comfort by reducing his
anxiety and softening the pangs of hunger. He was growing more and more comfortable,
and yawned. If he had dared, he might have gone to sleep.
Suddenly, a fierce light flooded his vision and sent him with a bound
to his feet. Had he been struck upon the head or stabbed to the
heart, No, he was sounded alive. The pale strangers still sat there,
staring at nothing and immovable, But Kimberlynn was no longer afraid of him.
On the contrary and extraordinary buoyancy of spirit and elaxticity of body made him
feel reckless and daring. His former timidity and scruples vanished, and he fell
equal to any adventure without hesitation. He gathered up the money and bestowed it
in his several pockets. I am a fool to starve, he said to
himself, with all this money ready to my hand, as cautiously as a
thief, he unlocked the door, stepped out, reclosed it, and boldly,
with his head erect stalked out upon the street. Much to his astonishment,
he found the city in the bustle of the early evening. Yet the
sky was clear. It was evident to him that he had not been in
the saloon as long as he had supposed. He walked along the street with
the utmost, unconcerned the dangers that beset him, and laughed softly, but
gleefully. Would he not eat now? Ah? Would he not? Why
he could buy a dozen restaurants. Not only that, but he could hunt
the city up and down for hungry men, and feed them with the fattest
stakes, the juicies, roasts, and the biggest oysters that the town could
supply. As for himself, he must eat first. After that he would
set up a great establishment for feeding other hungry mortals without charge. Yes,
he would eat first if he pleased. He would eat till he should burst
In What single place could he find sufficient to satisfy his hunger? Could he
live sufficiently long to have an ox killed and roasted hole for his supper.
Besides an ox, he would order two dozen broiled chickens, fifty dozen oysters,
a dozen crabs, ten dozen eggs, ten hams, eight young pigs,
twenty wild ducks, fifteen fish of four different kinds, eight salads,
four dozen bottles of each clearant, Burgundy and champagne. For pastry, eight
plum puddings, and for dessert bushels of nuts, ices and confections. It
would require time to prepare such a meal, and if he could only live
until it could be made ready, it would be infinitely better than to spoil
his appetite with a dozen or two meals of ordinary size. He thought he
could live that long, for he felt amazingly strong and bright. Never in
his life before had he walked with so great ease and lightness. His feet
hardly touched the ground, he ran and leaped. It did him good to
tantalize his hunger, for that would make his relish of the feast all the
keener. Oh but how they would stare when he would give his order,
and how comically they would hang back, And how amazed he would be when
he would throw a few thousands of dollars on the counter and tell them to
take their money out of it and keep the change. Really, it was
worth while to be so hungry as that, for then eating became an unspeakable
luxury. And one must not be too great a hurry to eat when one
is so hungry, that is beastly. How much of the way of living
to rich people miss from eating before they are hungry, before they have gone
three days and nights without food, And how manly it is, and how
great self control it shows to dally with starvation when one has a dazzling fortune
in one's pocket and every restaurant has an open door. To be hungry without
money, that is despair, to be starving with a bursting pocket that is
of lime. Surely, the only true heaven is that in which one famishes
in the presence of abundant food, which he might have for the taking,
and then a gorged stomach and a long sleep. The starving wretch speculating thus
still kept from food. He felt himself growing in stature, and the people
whom he met became pygmies. The streets widened, and the stars became suns
and dimmed, the electric lights and the most intoxicating odors, and the sweetest
music filled the air. Shouting, laughing, and singing. Kimberlyn joined in
a great chorus that swept over the city. And then the two detectives who
had traced the famous bank robber to the saloon in Mason Street where Kimberland had
encountered the stranger of the Pallor Face left the saloon, but unable to pursue
the trail farther, had finally returned. They found the door at booth number
seven locked. After wrapping and calling and receiving no answer, they burst open
the door, and there they saw two men, one of middle age and
the other very young, sitting perfectly still and in the strangest manner imaginable,
staring at each other. Across the table. Between them was a great pile
of money, arranged neatly in parcels. Near at hand were an empty absentthe
bottle, a water pitcher, glasses, and a dice box, with the
dice lying before the elder man as he had thrown them last. One of
the detectives covered the elder man with a revolver and commanded, row up your
hands, but the dice thrower paid no attention. The detective's exchanged startled glances.
They looked closer into the faces of the two men, and then they
discovered that both were dead and of over an absent bottle by W. C. Morrow