He scoffed at the signs in his horoscope, an arc of direction by Junius
B. Smith. The young man cast the stub of his cigarette from the
open window and laughed, Your theories are absurd, my dear Elton. If
a man could always tell when to sew and when to reap, his fortune
would be assured exactly. Elton agreed, fingering the pages of the book on
astrology, which he evidently had been perusing when the other came in. After
a moment, he continued, Naturally, you don't believe one may look into
the future. If you want my candid opinion, I do not. I
may say I will have a coffee for breakfast, but I am not certain
of it. I may be dead when breakfast time comes. He rolled another
cigarette and set it alight. I may not even finish the in my mouth,
he added, as he tossed the still blazing match out the window.
Elton viewed the act with a little frown upon his face. I'm afraid,
friend, Hall, that to you fate will be fate. Indeed, for
you act without due thinking. For instance, how do you know where that
cigarette stub went or the match which followed it? For all you know it
may have struck tender, and I may be seeking accommodations tonight, Tot tot.
There's nothing outside but some vines running up the wall, as they do
over at my place, and some flowers and grass on the other side of
the cement walk. I saw all that the last time you showed me your
horticultural skills. You assume there has been no change. You do not really
know. The one who trusts in chance has his destiny fixed by the stars.
Just when and where were you born? Haul took the cigarette from his
lips as Elton reached for a sheet of paper on which to make the notation.
You're not really serious, old dear. Surely you don't take any stock
in that exploded thing. Let us talk about something worthwhile we are doing just
that. I am curious as to the date of your demise. Haul shrugged
his shoulders poppycock. If I didn't know you as a successful businessman, i'd
think something was wrong with your head. I don't know, but there is
anyway. A doctor once told me that everybody was crazy on at least one
subject. Nobody ever told me what subject I'm bugs on, and I suppose
no one knows his pet failing, nor believes anyone who tells him. So
you think you can tell when I'm going to die? That's rich. I
don't know myself. You will if you get me the information I asked by
cracky. I believe you believe you can tell. I'll bet you a quart
of pink lemonade against that one lunged flivver of yours that I outwearh your dilapidated
tires. Maybe so, maybe so, I can't tell when you're going to
die if you don't tell me where and when you were born. In the
end, Hall gave the information, asked, and now what, asked the
younger man. Shall I wait until you diagnose my case? Or shall I
return at some later date just if you like? Elton replied, it involves
considerable work, so perhaps you'd better call around in a week from now.
It was a month before Hall again visited his friend. When he did,
it was with no intention of learning his fate as foretold by the stars,
but rather upon another matter. Nor was the subject brought up by him,
though what he said directly opened the question. I'm going to be married in
September. Elton considered the statement for a moment, but said nothing, sweetest
girl you ever saw. Hull amplified, still no comment. You are to
stand up with me if you will. It was that that brought me here
today. I'm glad you came. Elton at last broke his silence. I
was about to set forth and find you. Your announcement does not come as
a surprise to me, for such an attachment is shown in your horoscope for
this time. But and he weighed his words carefully. If you really want
the girl, you had better marry her immediately. Of course, she might
object to being left a widow. So soon shall I call a doctor for
you? Elton? You talk as if you're sick. I'm not sick,
and I don't need a doctor. But in all seriousness, friend Hall,
you need a nurse or at least a bodyguard in the very near future,
for according to my calculations, on the tenth of next month, unless you
do something to prevent it, you will most assuredly be hanged. Hall looked
at Elton for a full minute, then spoke, you surely don't believe that,
bunk. If you are joshing, I think you have gone far enough.
I was never more serious in my life. According to my calculated arcs
of direction, arks of what Hall involuntarily exclaimed arcs of direction planetary angulations we
astrologer to calculate to tell when the designated result will materialize. Oh, I
see, first you tell what is going to happen to a fellow, and
then when. So I'm going to be hanged on the tenth of next month.
Quick work. I haven't killed anybody yet, and they don't hang them
that soon. Even if I should go out and kill somebody between now and
then, Oh, there are lots of ways in which you might get hanged.
Some over enthusiastic citizens, for instance, might string you up to the
nearest telegraph poll or convenient limb. You wouldn't be the first man who had
suffered of vicarious death. Quit it, Elton, you're making my nerves jumpy.
He moved toward the window and looked out. I'll miss you greatly,
Elton replied. Let me tell the girl all about it. Maybe she'll marry
you at once. To take care of you, Get a bodyguard or do
something. Believe me a fool if you like, but don't take a chance.
Fate has an unkind way of pulling mean little tricks. You gloomy,
old cuss. You're scaring me out of a year's growth. You look as
if you were attending my funeral already. The tenth of the following month came
and Hull had taken no precautionary measures. Every time he thought of what Elton
told him, he felt sorry for Elton. His mind was undoubtedly slipping pity
too. Genius and insanity are very close together. He lay in a bed
and looked up at the ceiling and pondered about what his friend had told him.
This was the day he was to be hanged. He never felt any
further from death than he did that very minute. Of course, he might
walk out on the street and something unforeseen befall him. All in all,
perhaps it were better to remain in his home all day in bed, even
only that seemed plumb foolish. On second thought, he would remain indoors.
There was no use taking chances. As Elton had pointed out, there was
nothing he had to do, so he might as well do it at home
as elsewhere. Of course, Elton had wanted him to provide a bodyguard,
some sort of companion who would cut him down perhaps, but that was beside
the question. What need did he have for a bodyguard? The bodyguard might
hang him. His mind began all sorts of queer gymnastics. He was nervous
in spite of himself. He crawled out of bed when the sun shining through
the open window drove him to it. After a shower, he slowly dressed.
Suddenly an idea hit him, Elton, So cock, sure I'm going
to die today? I believe I'll phone him and tell him to come over.
That's killing two birds with one stone. He'd make an excellent bodyguard,
that is, if he isn't crazy, and we can play chess, which
will while the hours away. Yeah, I'll get him on the phone immediately,
and he did. Was just coming over anyway, Elton told him.
Haul made some toast and poached an egg. His appetite wasn't very keen.
Living alone in a two story house and doing his own cooking when not eating
in a cafeteria was getting monotonous, to say the least. He was glad
he was to be married in September. It would be different when he had
a wife to take charge of the home, which had been left him by
his parents. His frugal meal finished, he ran upstairs to get his chessboard
and men. The sunlight was pouring through the window. In added volume,
it was too beautiful a day to be cooped up, But he'd forget all
about that when he and Elton got to playing chess. He decided he might
as well make his bed while waiting for Elton, and busied himself in that
occupation. Then he went to the open window and looked out. Elton should
be coming any minute now. Speeding autos flashed to and fro. The hank
of an occasional horn sounded warning. An old horse pulling a still older express
wagon rattled past. The driver hunched on his seat. A bicycle or two
added variety, and men, women and children sauntered, hurried, or ran
along the walks according to what each was intent upon doing. Hall wondered if
any of those down upon whom he was looking would turn aside long enough to
hang him. His face lighted with a rather amused smile. He'd have to
talk to the doctor about Elton. It wasn't good for a man to get
such crazy notions into his head. His eyes drifted to his immediate yard.
A bird cooed and scolded its fledglings in an evergreen tree not a dozen feet
away. He watched it feed its young. A humming bird whizzed past his
face, its invisible wings fanning the air with great rapidity. Frown flower to
flower, it darted on the creeping vines beside the house. He watched it
lazily, fascinated by its beauty, its daintiness, the music of its flight.
Was it possible that he, in the midst of life, was on
the threshold of death? Into his reverie broke the hum of a motor strangely
familiar to his ears. It was Elton's car, He had no doubt.
He strained his eyes to catch sight of it and confirmed his guests. Then
he turned to go downstairs and let Elton in. On the morning of the
tenth Elton became very uneasy. He was sincere in what he told his friend
Hall. He feared, however, that Hall would disregard the warning and come
to disaster. Since in most likelihood Hall would not provide himself with a bodyguard,
why not be that bodyguard himself, so Elton reasoned. It was precisely
at the time when he made up his mind to attend Hall, all that
day that Hall telephoned him, he got his car from the garage and inspected
the right front tire, concerning which Hall had been kidding him on more than
one occasion. It was about ready to go out, but this was no
time to change it. He could do that when he got to Hall's place
or later, or let it go until it did blow out. He was
just slowing as he drew close to Hall's residence to make the turn into the
driveway on the north side of the house when the tire went out with a
loud bang. He turned into the driveway on the rim, stopped and quickly
changed the tire. He might as well get it over over with before going
into the house so he could wash up. When he did go in,
the tire changed. He went to the front door and pushed the bell.
No answer came. He knocked long and loud, still no answer. Worried
at the silence, he started along the cement path that led to the rear
around the south side of the house and paused to stand aghast at what he
saw when he turned the corner. As Hall turned with intention of leaving the
open window to admit his friend, the latter's tire had exploded. Hall,
whose nerves were jumpy as a result of his friend's dire foreboding, started,
lost his balance and fell backward out the window. He clutched at the vines
held to the side of the wall by metal netting, but they gave and
tore away and let him continue to fall. And then one more tenacious than
the rest, held, but it raped its sinuous length around his neck.
He fought and clutched the wire like fiber, but the noose slipped only tighter.
He was almost dead when Elton cut him down. The end of an
arc of direction by Junius B. Smith