The Cross-Cut
By Courtney Ryley Cooper
It was over. The rambling house, with its rickety, old-fashioned furniture—and its memories—was now deserted, except for Robert Fairchild, who was deserted within it, wandering from room to room, staring at familiar objects with the unfamiliar gaze of one whose vision suddenly had been warned by the visitation of death and the sense of loneliness that it brought.
Loneliness, rather than grief, for Robert Fairchild had promised that he would not suffer in heart for one who had longed to go into a peace for which he had waited, seemingly in vain. Year after year, Thornton Fairchild had sat in the big armchair by the windows, watching the days grow old and fade into the night, studying sunset after sunset, voicing the vain hope that the gloaming might bring the twilight of his existence—a silent man except for this, rarely speaking of the past, never giving to the son who worked for him, cared for him, worshipped him, the slightest inkling of what might have happened in the dim days of the long ago to transform him into a beaten thing, longing for the final cessation. And when the end came, it found him in readiness, waiting in the big armchair by the windows. Even now, a book lay on the frayed carpeting of the old room, where it had fallen from relaxing fingers. With a sigh, Robert Fairchild picked it up and restored it to the grim, fumed oak case. His days of petty sacrifices that his father might while away the weary hours with reading were over.
Memories! They were all about him, in the grate with its blackened coals, the old-fashioned pictures on the walls, the almost gloomy rooms, the big chair by the window, and yet they told him nothing except that a white-haired, patient, lovable old man was gone,—a man whom he was wont to call “father.” And in that going, the slow procedure of an unnatural existence had snapped for Robert Fairchild. As he roamed about in his loneliness, he wondered what he would do now, where he could go, to whom he could talk. He had worked since sixteen, and since sixteen, there had been few times when he had not come home regularly each night to wait upon the white-haired man in the big chair, to discern his wants instinctively, and to sit with him, often in silence, until the old onyx clock on the mantel had clanged eleven; it had been the…
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Courtney Ryley Cooper
Courtney Ryley Cooper (October 31, 1886 – September 29, 1940) was an American circus performer, publicist and writer. During his career he published over 30 books, many focusing on crime; J. Edgar Hoover considered him at one time “the best-informed man on crime in the U.S.” He was also an expert on circuses, and was the chief publicist for Ringling Brothers, Barnum & Bailey Circus at the time of his death.
Life and career
Courtney Ryley Cooper was born in Kansas City, Missouri, on October 31, 1886. At the age of 16, he left home to join a traveling circus and eventually became a circus clown, working his way up to general manager of the circus.
Later, he worked as a newspaper reporter for The Kansas City Star, New York World, the Chicago Tribune, and the Denver Post. In 1914, as a result of his work at the Post, he became the press agent for the Sells-Floto Circus, which was owned by the owners of the Post. The Sells-Floto had absorbed the assets of William “Buffalo Bill” Cody’s Wild West Show, including Buffalo Bill himself.
On August 1, 1918, Cooper joined the United States Marine Corps. He rose to the rank of second lieutenant and was sent to France to conduct historical research on the Marines.
In the 1920s and 1930s, Cooper wrote screenplays, including the narrative for the Frank Buck film Wild Cargo and the Art-O-Graf film Riders of the Range, short stories, novels, magazine articles, and popular non-fiction books. He published 30 books during his career. Most of his non-fiction work focused on two subjects — the circus and crime. He was Annie Oakley’s first biographer. His books Here’s to Crime (1937), Ten-Thousand Public Enemies (1935), and Designs in Scarlet (1939) championed the cause of the young Federal Bureau of Investigation and made the case that corrupt local governments and police forces permitted lawlessness to flourish in many parts of the United States.
Cooper’s work was much admired by FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover, who once said he was “the best-informed man on crime in the U.S.” — even allowing Cooper access to FBI case files. Cooper is widely believed to have ghostwritten the book Persons in Hiding (1938) as well as several magazine articles for Hoover. A 1936 newspaper article in the Chicago Daily Tribune identified Cooper as one of Hoover’s few close personal friends, along with Clyde Tolson and a man named Frank Baughman. The article goes on to state that after Ten Thousand Public Enemies came out in 1935, Cooper “was rewarded with a propaganda post in the Department of Justice, with the express function of publicizing the division of investigation.”
In 1934, Cooper began writing scripts for The Gibson Family on NBC radio. The show was an effort “to bring an original musical to the air every week.” He left the program in May 1935, when the sponsor revised the format in a cost-cutting effort.
In 1940, Cooper worked with comic strip artist Dale Messick and suggested the first storyline for Messick’s Brenda Starr, Reporter.
Cooper wrote extensively on the danger of illicit drugs, particularly marijuana. He collaborated with Federal Bureau of Narcotics Director Harry Anslinger on the article “Marijuana, Assassin of Youth”, which originally appeared in The American Magazine in July 1937.
Some of Cooper’s correspondence with Hoover is archived at the University of Alaska Anchorage Library.
Courtney Ryley Cooper
