d.

CHAPTER XXXI

THE MISSION OF EWING

In a dingy little bedroom of a dingy little hotel in one of the lesser
avenues of New York Ewing sat waiting for his hour. He had sealed his
letter to Mrs. Laithe with the feeling that this was the last
intelligible word he could say to anyone. Henceforth he must be silent;
refuse reasons. He must let them devise reasons for him. Any but the
true reason would suffice.

When darkness came on he went out into the noisy street, mailing the
letter as he passed through the hotel office. Then, by unfamiliar
thoroughfares he made his way to Ninth Street and resumed his old vigil
in front of Teevan's house.

There were lights in the house, both above and below. The thing was not,
then, to be attempted at the moment. He walked for an hour through
squalid streets to the west and came back to his post. The house was
still alight. Teevan, apparently, was entertaining. He watched but a
moment, then returned to his hotel and went to bed. He could be patient,
and he must be thorough. Before extinguishing his light he made sure
that he had not lost what was now his most important possession: a key
to Teevan's door. Teevan had bestowed it on him the year before, in
order that he might obtain books during the little man's absence from
town. Ewing had forgotten the key until he set on his present mission;
then he had perceived a use for it.

He fell asleep, despite the recurrent tumult of elevated trains outside
his window; fell asleep thinking of Teevan. There was no bitterness in
his heart toward the little man. It was only necessary that he die.

He kept closely to his room the next day, wishing not to be recognized
by any of his acquaintances, and he was at his post early in the
evening. This time the house was dark. Teevan was out, but he would
return. So he paced back and forth through Ninth Street, going only so
far as would let him keep the house in view. He felt no impatience. It
was his last work, and he could bide the time when it might be well
done. A little after midnight two men entered the street from Fifth
Avenue, strolling leisurely in the warm June night, and ascended the
steps of the Teevan house. Ewing felt a slight tingling of relief when
he recognized Teevan, but then he saw the other take a key from his
pocket, and he knew that this would be Teevan's son. They went in
together, and the watcher left his post. He must have Teevan alone in
the house.

He walked