Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 15, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 January 1910 — The Road Maker [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Road Maker

“D’ you know you’re trespassing?” The speaker was a young man faultlessly dressed. He was speaking to a man some twelve years his senior, who was seated on a tree trunk, smoking a pipe. “I’m Lord Winstead, and this is my property.” ‘‘And a nice property, too. I congratulate your lordship.” “I say, you’re a pretty cool hand. Who are you?” “As you were kind enough to tell me your name I will return the compliment. My name Is Raymond, Basil Raymond.” He paused for a few seconds and then added, “Those are fine trees ahead.” “Do you know anything about trees?" __ "I’ve spent* fifteen years among them in Canada.” * “Did you ever cut roads through 'em?” “Several.” “I say, you’re just the man I want. D’you want a job?” “Depends what the job is.” “Why. I've always wanted to cut a road thrdugh those trees' to the shore.” “Well, If you’re anxious for me to do it, I will.” “Come along to the house and we’ll fix things up.” Raymond went with him to the house and presently they were deep in the plans for the new road. Suddenly the door burst open and a girl entered. "Come and play tennis, Jimmy.” she cried. Then she saw Basil Raymond and her pretty face flushed. “Let me introduce you,” said Lord Winstead. “My cousih, Miss Constance Blaketon, Mr. Raymond.” “Mr. Raymond is going to make a road through the wood to the shore,’ Lord Winstead continued. The smile faded from the girl’s eyes, she gazed frigidly at Raymond for a moment, and then turned to her cousin. “Yon won’t be coming, then?” she isked. “Sorry, old girl, but I can’t leave this.” Miss Blaketon bowed to Raymond snd left the room—she did not smile this time. Work was commenced on the following morning. During the early Bvening, Basil Raymond strolled up to the wood and sat again on the tree trunk where Lord Winstead had found him. “It’s a queer state of affairs,” he murmured thoughtfully. “By Jove! What a lovely girl Miss Blaketon is.” The faext Instant he heard the object of his admiration speaking. “Fancy introducing me as ybu did; I thought he was a friend of yours.’’ “So he is,” replied Lord Winstead; “or I hope he will be.” “But yQU told me he was only a backwoodsman, Jimmy. He’s a fine, n-anly looking fellow, but he’s hardly a suitable friend for a man of your position.” “Oh, dry up, Con, don't rot so much.” The voices died away as they passed beyond Raymond’s hearing. » "So I'm an outsider,” he said. “I am beyond the pale in my lady Constance’s eyes.”

On the flrßt morning of the tree felling, Miss Blaketon walked along with Lord Winstead. Basil Raymond raised his hat as he saw her, but only received a somewhat curt nod in reply. He flushed to the roots of his hair, but continued to issue directions in calm, level tones. Constance Blaketon did not notice the flush; as a matter of fact, it waa lost in the tan. She had meant to crush this man who apparently did not know bis place, but evidently she had failed. "Raymond!’* she called suddenly, "I want you to look for my glove.” She had dropped it on purpose—so that she might call Raymond. To her surprise, Basil did not move. He was directing the felling of a largo elm, and he did not turn his head until the work was finished. Constance Blaketon grew angrier each second. She could not tell why this n.an affected her so, why she had ouch a passionate deaire to humble Urn. ----- ‘‘Why did you not come when I called,” she demanded indignantly, when at length Raymond walked across to her.

-~SUuuL .m. JBJaa*|on,” he said calmly. Constance gave him a few cult directions, at the conclusion of which he returned to his work and dispatched & couple of men to hunt for tits glove, .which they Bpeedlly fqunjt , Two days passed Without Raymond seeing Constance, and then he received an invitation to dine with the Winsteads, which he readily accepted. Constance was much annoyed with her cousin for issuing the invitation. “Have you invited the other men as well ?” she asked. “Oh, dry up. Con. Raymond’s a gentleman, anyone can see that.” “Is he? I dare say he’ll open your eyes to-night, Jimmy. You’ve only worked with him so far, rememberTT suppose I shall be expected to sit down with him.” “You can Jolly well please yourself. Con,” said Winstead angrily. “I dare say he’d be better pleased if you didn’t." “No doubt, there would be one less to watch his agonies In that case.” “Rot!” Winstead flung himself off to the billiard room, but was too annoyed" to make any decent shots. Despite Miss Blaketon’s sarcastic comments, she appeared that night In a ravishing dinner gown. Constance wore an air of affected calm, really she felt nervous, for she knew she had severely snubbed Raymond, although the fact did not seem to have worried him. “You ought not to have dressed, Jimmy. Your foreman will feel very, much out of place in his tweed suit.” Just then the door opened. "Mr. Raymond,” announced a footman. i In walked Raymond, garbed in Immaculate evening dress and looking so distinguished, that a beaming smile took the place of the usual placid ex-, pression on the face of the duchess. Lord Winstead absolutely glowed with delight at his protege’s appearance, and he could not resist the temptation of grinning joyfully at his cousin. v As dinner Basil bore himself though he were in. his accustomed place, and conversed freely with Winstead and his mother. Constance had very little to say, the complete overthrow of her predictions seeming to

have rendered her dumb. However, she knew she was looking her best, and Constance Blaketon at her best was very delightful to see. Next morning Raymond was the roadmaker again, and when Constance visited the scene of operations she was the daughter of Lady Blaketon. Consequently, she nodded only slightly in response to Raymond’s bow. A sturdy old oak was being rooted up, and Basil was eyeing anxiously Its far-reaching branches. “Miss Blaketon," he cried at length, “yon had better move farther back." Constance perked up immediately and flashed a withering glance at Raymond. “Miss Blaketon, It Is dangerous tc stand where you are. Will you please go farther back?" Constance took not the slightest notice. From overhead came a sudden harsh cracking noise and she gazed up in a fright to see a huge branch hanging menacingly over her. Raymond raced up to her side, gathered her up in his strong arms, and carried hqr out of danger. “Silly little girl," he muttered as he had taken hold of her., 1 He had spoken the words more to himself, but Constance had heard them. This, with the’fact that he had presumed to carry her, brought the hot, angry blood to her face, “How dare you?” she cried.

‘1 beg your pardon if I have offended you,” said Raymond. Then he turned on his heel and left her. > ' Directly he left her Constance was bitterly repeiitant. How she detested herself, detested the wretched pride which made her behave to Raymond as she did. But although she strove against her feelings, she found herself constantly going down to the new road. She humbled herself sufficiently to thank Raymond for what he had done, but those words, “Silly little girl,” constantly rang in her ears. Gradually, however, she ceased to find objection to them, and they took on a sort of guarding expression that was almost a caress. Presently, she found , herself repeating them as though she treasured them. And she wondered. She became Intimate with Basil, until it grew ta be a recognized thing for him to leave the road and walk through the park with her. “Is It true you are to marry Lord Winstead?” he asked one evening. "It has always been understood,” she replied. _____ _ , ‘*Do you care for him?**~ "Tell me, Constance,” he whispered. "Do your No word passed the girl’s trembling

Ups. but her head drooped; he are* her to him. and akie d IA not renal Bending, he kissed her Ups. i “But, Basil,” she said presently, "X must marry my cousJe. We oug>A . “Your cause there ww iKs.(jirect male descendant. didn’t he?" “Yes, and auitt hap the titleof duclg ess by courtesy. The late duke had one son, but he has not been heard of for thirteen years, and the Jaw has accepted his death. He and his father had a very bitter quarrel, and Gordon —that was his name—left home and has never been heard of since.” “Never?" The girl started and then peered latently Into Raymond’s face. “You?" she whispered. “Listen, Constance. I made a large fortune In Canada, but I never had any desire to be a duke. I wanted to be free. Had your coußin been a waster I should have declared myself; but he Is a good lad and will make a better duke than I ever should." “You tell him.” “No, dear; It would break the lad’s heart.” “But, Basil, what a sacrifice!” “Not at all, dear, it’s myself I’m pleasing. You’ll still be marrying Lord Winstead If you marry me, Constance." “What will they say, aunt and Jimmy?” “We must brave it out, you and I, dear. Are you ready to?" "Yes, Basil, with you I’d brave anything.”—Cassell’s Journal.

"WHY DID YOU NOT COME?"