Jasper County Democrat, Volume 11, Number 27, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 August 1908 — Page 6

The REAL AGATHA

SYNOPSIS. ‘ CHAPTER I.—Lord Wilfred Vincent S*d Archibald Terhune ere Introduced at <he opening of the story, In England, the latter relating the tale. The pair on an eating miss their train and seeking recreation meet "the Honorable Agatha Wyekhotf, ** whoso hand Is much sought after, because of her wealth. On visiting the Wyekhotf castle they are Introduced to two other girls, both known as Agatha Wyekhotf. CHAPTER dinner three other Agatha Wyekhotf* are Introduced and the plot revealed. The deceased stepfather, in an eccentric moment, made his will so that the real Agatha, heiress to Ms fortune and the castle at Wye, Eng* land, might wed her affinity. Thus Mrs. Armlstead, chaperon, was in duty bound to keep the real Agatha's identity u> mown and suitors Were Invited to tryoat for the band of the heiress. An attempt by Terhune to gather a clew from the chaperon falls. CHAPTER lll.—Terhune finds old books containing picture of a former Baroness Wyekhotf, which is exactly like Agatha Math. whom he Is courting. Vincent entertains them all and while riding with Agatha Fifth she confesses her love for him and also that she Is the real heiress. Ho spurns her proposal.

CHAPTER IV.—Many clews to Identity es the real Agatha prove fruitless. Agatha Fifth later confessing she Is not the heiress.

CHAPTER V. Alone, I sat for a moment speechless with astonishment, as the secretary left the room, and, as I took my way slowly and thoughtfully upstairs, I resolved that this was another thing that I would not tell Vincent; he would be far more likely to ridicule mo than to thank me for my effort in his behalf. Some time after this, on a perfect day, Agatha Third and I —l had spent almost every hour since the dinner in her company, I may remark—had planned a little excursion which would keep us outdoors all day. We were going on a picnic up the little river. Have you ever tried a picnic for two? Given the right companion and a day like that, I'd warrant It to cure any attack of the blues. Agatha Third had assured are that the prettiest spot for our luncheon was a little island In the eeater of the stream where the current ran broad and deep, about throe miles below the castle. The day was fair, the girl was fairer, and the moments were full of joy to me. We had crossed a little bridge about a mile from the castle and were proceeding up the left bank of the river when a sudden turn of the stream brought two others of our house party into view. On the opposite bank was Vincent in high boots, knockerbockers, white shirt with sleeves rolled up, and a farmer’s broad-brimmed hat of straw. He was busy over a broken fishing rod which he was trying to mend. In the center of the stream, where the current ran Swift and dan-

geroualy deep, a girl stood on a large bowlder, fishing. Other bowlders at in4tervals between ghe one she was standing on and the shore where Vincent was Indicated the means by which she had attained her precarious position. I recognized the girl as Agatha Second, and smiled pityingly as I thought of poor Vincent, invariably wasting his time with the wrong Agatha. “Hullo!” they cried, cheerfully, and we waved our bands and asked them what luck they’d had. This isn’t always a safe question to ask a fisherman, but I notice that people who are not fishing themselves invariably find great satisfaction in asking It. Vincent said he hadn’t caught any fish, and asked if I’d landed mine yet. Just like his impudence! He’d say anything If he thought it was funny, no matter how it might annoy other people.

Just as I was thinking of some retort polite enough to utter aloud, Agatha Second’s rod began to bend and jerk, and immediately there was no much action going on that in my excitement I forgot what I was about to bay. I am a fisherman of some skill myself. Well, the pole began to bend and the Agatha on the rock began to scream, and Vincent shouted directions from the bank—“ Easy there, easy,” he entreated her; “give him more line, Aggie, more line." **l can’t!” she screamed at the top of her voice; “something’s caught, and he pulls so.” “The reel!” I shouted, jumping up and down. “The reel! Press the knob and let her go!” I knew in a moment the, sort she had. It was just like mine, a patent ong with a spring reel—mine often •tuck that way. AU this time the fish was leaping about, sometimes jumping out of the water so that we could see him, and be was a big fellow.

- “Let me alone; I can do it myself” cried the girl, as Vincent started to help her, but even as she spoke her trim little foot slipped on the wet •tone, and, losing her balance completely, she fell backward Into the deep water, while the rod disappeared upstream. In a moment Vincent was running at top speed along the bank tIU he came to a little point of land near which the drowning girl must pass. As she approached he leaped Into the water, and, striking diagonally upstream, •steed her by her clothing, and, fighting bls way back, safely gained the point of land. Meantime I had run UP the river toward a boat that I had

BY EDITH HUNTINGTON MASON

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observed near the bank. Jumping la I soon reached the spot where lay the unconscious form of Agatha Second. All this time I was dimly aware of the fact that Agatha Third had never stopped screaming and was now running up and down on the opposite bank sobbing and wringing her hands. When I reached Wilfred he was anxiously bending over the girl, but apparently without the slightest idea what to do. I immediately fell to chafing bes hands and resorting to the other wellknown expedients for reviving the drowned, and to enable her to breathe more freely I removed the tight-fitting dickey of her sailor suit. It was not long before she began to regain consciousness, and it was at this moment that I made a most amazing discovery, for around the neck of the girl I saw a little silver chain, and on it was strung a heavy gold ring set with a large cross of old-fashioned emeralds.

I called to Vincent, and as I pointed at the magnificent and telltale piece of jewelry we both gazed it, speechless with surprise at discovering in such a manner the secret of the Honorable Agatha's identity. Before she had quite regained her consciousness I readjusted her dickey, and when she was able to stand we wrapped her in our coats and carried her to the boat. There wasn't room

iu n ror more rnan two, so I made Vincent get in with her and row back to the castle. So they left us, and Agatha Third and I, too thoroughly upset by the accident to wish to carry through our picnic, followed them baek, walking one on each side of the stream until we reached the where we joined forces. As we returned I did a great deal of thinking. So it was Agatha Second, after all, who was the real Honorable 4gatha. For certainly her possession of the Wyckhoff ring, mentioned in the will, was proof positive. Now that I thought of it, the suspicious circumstance of Agatha Third’s seemingly involuntary rising when Vincent toasted the Honorable Agatha, admitted of many explanations. At any rate, whatever her mason for her action, the presence of the Wyckhoff ring on the neck of Agatha Second had proved to me the falsity of that other clew and the identity of our fate but mysterious hostess. The next morning when she came down to breakfast I inquired with great concern as to the effects of the aoddent of the dav nresdens, fibs

replied most Madly that she felt very nearly as well as ever and thanked me earnestly for my share in her res* cue. In tact, her gratitude was so profuse as to make me uncomfortable, and I protested volubly that what X had done was nothing. Nevertheless, from that day on Agatha Second clung to me in a manner that was almost touching. Vincent, to my surpise, instead of taking advantage of his part as hero, seemed rather anxious to avoid the girl, whereas, before our mutual discovery, he had seemed to bo quite taken with her. Although his conduct was a puzzle to me, yet I could only rejoice that it was so, for it left the field absolutely free to me, and I felt as each day passed that now, indeed, I was hotter on the trail of that twenty millions than I had yet been. It was the first Sunday after the accident and the fourth of our stay. Wa had breakfasted at eight and were sitting around aimlessly waiting until it was time to go to church. When it was finally time to get ready my head ached from the enn, for I had been sitting without my hat, and I decided that I would not go that morning, though there was a flattering chorus of protests when I made this announcement “I shall go," said Vincent positively, just as if anyone had disputed it *T always go, don’t I, Miss Marsh?” appealing to the secretary, who was present, but who, of course, had been rather left out of the conversation. “Yes,” she answered, smiling at him faintly. “You always do— ever since we’ve known you, that it. You’re a saint, Lord Wilferd.” But she laughed she said it, and Vincent, for no reason at all, looked pleased. Then the girls all went into the house to change their frocks, and Vincent, too, had to go and get himself rigged out in all the swellness of his Bond street afternoon things. "Are you going to ride or walk?” I asked him as he came downstairs ahead of the young ladles. “Walk,” he said. “It's such a ripping day the girls thought they’d like

AGATHA FIFTH.

lx. Tne phaeton is coming for us after church. What’s the matter with you? We shall miss you." “Oh, just a bit off my feed this morning. But, Vincent, my boy, do you realize that you’re going to church all alone by yourself with six girls, the prettiest in England?” "Seven,” corrected Vincent, unmoved. “The secretary is going with us this morning.” I shook my head at him admiringly. "You’re a wonderful fellow,” I told him; "I couldn’t manage seven of them at once to save my skin. It keeps me busy enough when I take 'em one at a time.” <

At this moment the girls trooped downstairs. They had their prettiest gowns on and were fully aware of the admiration in the eyes of Vincent and myself. And that admiration was perfectly excusable, for the six Agathas were looking unusually lovely In their flowered frocks, big white hats, and the dainty parasols to match the wide sashes, and I should have been hard put to it to say which was the handsomest But as they filed out of the Mg doer I saw Vineent look longest

az us secretary, who walked * little behind the others, her plain, dark blue silk gown and little rough straw hat with the pink roses being a conspicuous contrast to the frills and furbelows of the six Agathas. I thought I had novar seen her look so well, and she passed us men without so much as glancing in our direction, though Vincent’s gase, I thought, was a trifle rude. (To be continued.)

A CROSS OF HONOR

The fourth and last day of the Huntley sale was dragging slowly on. The Incidents of the bidding were as commonplace and unentertaining to most of the men who sat half wearily round the baize covered table and looked languidly at meddl after medal as they were to the auctioneer himself. The score or so of buyers were as varied a crowd as any event could well bring together. Lord Wentlocke was a well known collector who never missed an Important sale. Next to him .at a man without cuffs, who bought all the most expensive lots without apparently looking at them. Opposite was a Jew, who made all his bids by furtive winks and who endeavored by amusing sallies to distract bls competitors’ attention at critical moments, and between him and the British museum representative a turbaned Parsee, buying on behalf of a Calcutta art gallery. Two schoolboys had strayed in and looked on silently or compared notes of admiration in apprehensive whispers. At last the auctioneer pulled himself together. “Surely this will rouse you, gentlemen, if anything will,” he said. “Lot 184, a Victoria cross presented to Private Thomas Young for conspicuous bravery at Magdala; purchased by Mr. Hutiey from Messrs. Link and by them from the original holder. What shall I say?”

It seemed that the national collection was not in want of a specimen. Lord Wentlocke never by any chance opened the bidding, and the Jew always wait-, ed a little to find out who was Interested. Some one else started with £lO, and in the twinkling of an eye the cross had advanced to £2O and then bang a moment. It was then in the pause marking what would probably have been the halfway point that the silence was broken by the poorly clad woman, who had sat, nervous and unobserved, near the door. ' “Oh, sir,” she cried In a voice that was half a sob, “I don’t understand, but I could save only £2, and—and I am his mother!” « There have been many scenes of psychological suspense at Wetheby*«. Millionaires have plunged recklessly for historical pictures, relatives and legatees have carried on their wrangles and snarled across the table for the possession of heirlooms, but never In the annals of that famous house has there been so vivid a moment as when the mother of Thomas Young, the man who had displayed conspicuous valor at Magdala, stood forth in her neat and pathetic poverty and timidly held out the two pounds’ worth of silver for which she had starved and drudged In order to redeem her son’s medal. The silence was only for a second. Some one down the table, woefully out of touch with the wave of feeling, gave an amused laugh at the absurdity of the thing and, anxious to share the exquisite joke with the auctioneer, looked up, with a merry smile, as be called out, “Twenty-one!” 1 The Jew was on his feet in an Instant “Shut up, you fool!” he shouted furiously. “Can’t you see?’ The auctioneer—it was Mr. A., ever the most courteous and sympathetic of his profession—quietly tapped his rostrum once or twice. “Gentlemen,” he said, “this Is an unusual Incident and I think we will all agree that some way must be found out of the difficulty. So far the prices have been very satisfactory, and should It happen by any means—l cannot make any suggestion, gentlemen—but should It happen that in this one instance the price Is not maintained I do not think that the vender will have any cause for complaints. To my firm I myself will be responsible. The bidding when I last took it stood at £2O. That was Lord Wentlocke.” “Mine, too,” said the man without cuffs readily. “Surely you heard me. I thought you took mine.” “The gentleman is quite right,” said the Jew, rubbing his hands delightedly. "I heard him myself—before Lord Wentlocke, if anything.” He had never spoken a more obvious lie or one which passed so unquestioned. “As the matter Is in dispute, I have no option but to start the lot again,” said the auctioneer, with Infinite relief. “But, to take you completely into my, confidence, I must Inform you that I have against It a reserve merely nominal, as it was thought at the time, of £5." v

“Guineas,” said Lord Wentlocke quietly, and when the hammer fell, as it did without a second’s pause, it was amid enthusiasm which rivaled the scene when the famous petition crown created a record of £SOO. Lord Wentlocke never had any hesitation in the matter. "You must have no scruples about accepting It from me,” he said, crossing the room and putting the medal Into the rough and toil worn hand. “Your country is heavily in your debt, find what we are doing la little enough. How came your son to sell it?” “I was ill,” she replied, the tears running down her cheeks. “Oh, my lord, how can I thank you?* “It's nothing,” said Lord Wentlocke, the modest English feeling of awkwardness in conferring a favor gaining tbs ascendant, and to avoid the poMtbility of * scene he opened the swinging doors and escorted the mother of Private Young down into the

* Three was another ovation awaiting Lord Wentlocke on his return, bat that chivalrous and ingenuous peer, having rent his brougham to an address In the Borough road, decided to walk to GtMh Ivenor place rather than receive it Grasses everywhere. Grasses are widely distributed. We usually think of them as existing In our temperate zones only, because here we have the perennial pastures and meadows. They are, however, to be found so tar north that the soil is frozen under them during the greater part of the year, while they are also common to parts of the south where the frost is never known. Even the mountain tops that are clothed with perpetual snow have just below tho snow line their carpets of poas that grow and bloom through a brief period every year. The grasses push hard against the eternal snows. Applying Limo. The fall is generally considered the best time to apply lime, but moderate application may be made whenever the farmer finds it convenient to perform the work. Much of the fall grain ia seeded on corn ground, and this land in not plowed up or In shape to apply the lime advantageously at that season.

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