]T t was forty years after the great war between the States that I visited the little western town of Montrose where there lived a strange man who was known—and yet unknown. As I stood in front of Wally’s hardware store, talking with Mr. Wally about the long dry spell that had so badly hindered the crops, I saw a tall, erect figure, well clothed and wearing a typical western hat walking toward us along the road. His long gray hair could be seen beneath the brim so that we knew he had seen many winters. As he walked up Main street with a slow measured tread, he appeared to be a retired banker, or a general of the army, or perhaps a retired president of a university. As the gentleman approached, Mr. Wally said, “ There comes the mystery man of our little town. We know nothing about him. He comes and goes silently, with the poise of a king, and yet with the mystery of a magician. He uses the name of Curtis, but he will not engage in conversation on any subject. He pays cash for his pur chases. Once a month he receives a registered letter through the little postoffice here in my store, and the postmark indicates that it comes from the ‘Southland.’ When he asks for his mail we note that he has the lovely inflection of a typical southerner. The letters are ad dressed to R. L. Curtis. By the time Mr. Wally had given me this information our friend had approached close to where we were standing. We both said to him, “ Good morning, sir.” He replied,“ Good morning,” but said noth ing more. He walked leisurely up the street gazing casu ally in the store windows but apparently with little in terest. If anyone wished to engage this friend in conversation about the weather, the crops, or politics, he would listen for a few moments, then would say “ Thank you,” and would pass on his way. I asked Mr. Wally where this gentleman came from. He replied, “ It has been some years since this mystery man made his appearance in Montrose. He had been brought over from the county seat where the railroad station was located, rented the cottage in which he now lives, pays the rent in advance, and asks for no receipt.” On a number of occasions, Mr. Wally said that he had called at the little home to see if he could leam some thing about the mystery in the life of this friend. The cottage was neatly furnished, but showed that there was no touch of a woman’s hand in the appointments or ar rangements. It was strictly a bachelor’s apartment. There was nothing on the walls or on the tables to indicate where he came from, nor his occupation. Mr. Wally said, “He was a good listener, but told me nothing concerning his family, his work, nor his previous history.” I discovered as I conversed with others in the little village that on several occasions an effort had been made to interest him in local affairs, games between the schools, and national politics. Every effort had failed. This man was a real hermit, living within himself and for himself. The strange life and actions of this mysterious charac ter attracted me. His demeanor indicated that he must
have had a good education and probably had had excel lent opportunities to become a very useful citizen. I in quired of my friend, Mr. Wally, whether he thought it would be wise for me to visit Mr. Curtis in his home. He replied that it would be an interesting visit on my part, but he was certain I would obtain no information from him. Mr. Wally added, “ The reporter from the Tribune came to see this man, used his arts, and schemes to elicit information, but was met with silence, and the mystery remained unsolved. Several visiting preachers have also called at this home, but obtained no response whatever to their suggestions.” The next morning I decided to call to see this unusual case. I approached the cottage with some large question marks in my mind as to how I would begin the con versation. I was met at the door in a very gracious man ner, and said to my friend, “May I come in for a little visit with you? I am a visitor in the city for a few days. I am a physician from the East, and am a student of character. I have seen you on the street as you came up into the little village, and have been attracted to you be cause I realize you are a man of deep convictions.” His only answer was, “ Sit down.” I did so and then said to him, “ I note by your accent that you are from one of our great southern States. Would you like to tell me some thing about your boyhood days, and where you were raised?” To this I received no reply. He sat gazing out the window. I perceived that he did not wish to give me that information, and so I asked, “Have you found a church home in these parts? Or a fraternal organization where you might feel at home with the members?” There was no reply to this question, but he continued to gaze at the flower garden outside the window. Realizing that this line of questioning was not pro ducing any results, I said to him rather earnestly, “Mr. Curtis, in my medical practice I have found it difficult to help a patient unless that patient would confide in me sufficiently to describe his symptoms. I know that you must have some burden on your heart, or some secret in your life that is hindering you from having fellowship with others. If you would like to confide this secret to me, I would be happy to know about it, and to help you, if possible. I do not live here, and have only two or three friends that I am visiting. I give you my word that what ever secret you may entrust to me will be held as a sacred trust, and no one in this village will know about it. Why not unburden your heart to me, Mr. Curtis? I know you will feel better if you do, and maybe I have the answer.” To my great astonishment I saw a new light come in his face. He showed an interest that had been entirely lacking before. He said to me, “ If I confide in you, will you swear to me in the name of God that you will not tell any person in this community what I have told you?” I assured him that I would agree fully to that re quest. He then related to me the following story: “When I was in the army of the south I became a ‘sharp-shooter.’ I developed quite a little skill in this art and was given special assignments by the Command ing Officer. One night I was ordered to take a position at
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THE KING'S BUSINESS
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