Jasper County Democrat, Volume 19, Number 97, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 March 1917 — Then I'll Come Back to you [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Then I'll Come Back to you

By Larry Evans

OF TO EVERY

SYNOPSIS Caleb Hunterand tils sister Sarah welcome to their home Stephen O’Mara, a homeless and friendless boy, starting from the wilderness to see the city. Stephen O’Mara catches a glimpse of Barbara Allison. The girl is rich. The O’Mara boy falls in love with her. She Is ten, he fourteen.

CHAPTER 111. Three Quarters and Six Eighths. SjATURDAY morning dawned as hot and dry and windless as had been the other days of jaKjßJj the week which had preceded It. Caleb Hunter, rising from an uneasy night, blamed his sleeplessness jupon the weather. It was fully an hour before his usual not too early hour of rising when he slowly descended the (wide stairway, and yet he was but little surprised to find the boy already ' there (before him seated upon the top step of the veranda when he strolled outside. Chin in palm, elbow upon knee, Steve fwas gazing fixedly in the direction of ’Dexter Allison’s stucco and timber ■“summer lodge,” and, although Caleb could not have known it, there had been no need for his silence, for the boy’s rapt preoccupation was sound proof. Caleb heard voices coming from [behind the.shrubbery, and just as he, a little perplexed, turned to follow the diIrection of that fascinated gaze Allison thimself squeezed through a narrow aperture in the box hedge and hailed [him jovially from the far edge of the lawn. And Caleb Hunter’s brows drew Itogether in a bit of a frown when a Islender figure in kilted black velvet land bright buckled low shoes, hatless and with thick, gleaming hair bobbed Short in a style strange to Morrison in those days flashed through behind him, for Caleb heard the short gasp which came from the boy’s lips even before the little girl had paused in her darting advance on tiptoe like a hovering butterfly to wave a slim hand at him. i Caleb heard the boy’s breath suck in between tight teeth; heard it quiver unsteadily as she appeared on swift feet—and Caleb understood what had ibeen holding so closely his attention. iHe understood absolutely and yet, strange as the mood was, at that moment he couldn’t help but feel, too, somehow a little sorry for the boy—he could not help but think— His eyes ■went from Steve’s forward thrust (head, frbm the hair, shaggy and unIkempt for all its fineness and thickness land wavy softness, across to that dainty vision which, poised in her absurdly short skirt like a point of flame, rwas already gazing back at the boy upon the steps in open and undisguised amaze. All of that characteristic which had ibeen most pronounced in Dexter Allison the latter had passed down to this islender girl who was his daughter, Barbara. No matter how vivid Allison’s raiment had M£en, Caleb remembered that even when Dexter was a stripling at school it had always seemed more a part of the man himself (than just protection for his body. ■Caleb had never given it a serious thought up to that moment, but now it came back to him with added cumulative force. He recollected that he had often wondered at the child’s unconscious adaptation of mood to the clothes she happened to be wearing. He recalled how he had seen her demure and distant in misty, pastel tinted party frocks or quaintly, infantilely dignified in soberer Sunday morning garb. Caleb caught his first illuminating glimpse of the woman she was to be — of the dainty grace and more than ■usual beauty which were there in the promise of the years, and he. who was fond of insisting to his sister Sarah that there was many a boy back in those hills who. with his chauce, might some day achieve greatness, suddenly realized how long and weary the road would be for just such a one, as the fascinated little figure on the steps before he could begin to approach that level which, to a society that Caleb understood, was typified by this exquisite elfin figure, Dexter Allison’s' daughter. He was no snob, Caleb Hunter, and yet the little girl’s bearing at that moment doubly accented for him the gulf which lay between her and the kills boy, by name Steve. For, though she did pause to stare at his white drill trousers and unbelievable man sized boots with frankly childish astonishment. the next instant she had recovered herself and without another glance preceded her father across the grass. Quite as though Steve had not been there at all. she passed him to hesitate demurely at Caleb’s side. “Good ""morning. Uncle Cali** she greeted him And then jguite suddenly Caleb didn’t if eel so very sorry, after all. for his lit|tle visitor. He stopped pitying him. ISteve’s eyes had not wavered once from the little girl’s face, from the time she appeared in the hedge gap until she mounted the steps, utterly ob-

livious to his nearness. But when she brushed against his elbow the boy rose and stood, hat in hand, gravely quiet, gravely. possessed and silently sure of himself. Even after he had answered Barbara Allison’s greeting and turned with his grown up, ponderous courtesy to present the boy to her, only to be left with the words hanging upon tongue tip by her instant disappearance inside in search of Sarah. Caleb caught no hint of the thoughts behind those impassive and steady eyes. And yet he knew that Steve had risen in order that he might bow as he had the night before, when Caleb introduced, him to his sister. Dexter Allison, coming up in less airy fashion across the iawn, surprised Caleb with his mouth still open. “Well?” said Dexter Allison—and Caleb recovered himself. “Well?” he countered, and then they both laughed softly and shook hands It was their unvaried formula of greet ing, whether they had not seen each other for twenty-four hours or twentyfour months. And while they were shaking hands the boy turned quickly and reseated himself upon the top step. But Allison gave him more notice than had hbdaughter Barbara. He stood with hihands in his pockets, gazing at the averted face, unconcealed and growing amusement in the scrutiny, until Caleb, not yet aware of the boy’s woods taught habit of seeing while seeming not to see, was simultaneously annoyed at Allison’s fatuous grin and glad of the fact that Steve apparently was looking the other way. After a time Allison raised quizzical eyes to Caleb’s face. ' ~ “Wel-1-1?” he intoned, and with a little reluctance as reasonable as it was unnoticed Caleb answered the inferred question. “This—this is a little friend of mine. Dexter,” he said—“down from the hills. He’s to have a look at the city which you have been so instrumental in arousing to its present state of teeming activity. This is Stephen O’Mara. Steve —this is Mr. Allison, Steve!” Then the boy turned and again rose to his feet, and at that moment Caleb could have hugged him for his deliberation. The boy inclined his head; he bowed, without a word. And it was Dexter Allison who first offered a hand. “Glad to make your acquaintance. Stephen,” the latter exclaimed with quite violent good humor. “And how are you?” Steve took the hand and closed his brown fingers hard upon the puffy white ones. For an instant he stood, his eyes, grave and inscrutable, full , upon Allison’s smaller ones. “Pm tol-lable,” he drawled soberly. “And—haow be you—yourself?” Allison gasped, stood with mouth agape and then burst into one of his rather too frequent, too hearty laughs. “Well, I’m”— he began his favorite phrase of ejaculation, and then stopped to look down again into the small face before him. “Well, I’m”— and he stopped to chuckle. Then he turned back to Caleb. “I suppose. Cal, you know what this early morning call presages?” he suggested. Caleb recalled himself with an effort from a contemplation of the sudden.

prideful something which had warmed him while Steve was shaking hands He smiled mechanically. “I suppose it’s the usual raid upon the he. answered, Allison mounted heavily to the veranda. “Right!" he exclaimed. “Right! You’ll notice that Barbara has already gone on ahead. She’s the skirmish line —scouts videttes whatever you

please to can em. Tnews no one up yet—none of the family—over to our place, ite are hungry. Cal; I hope this is waffle morning.” Caleb smiled at him, less impersonality in the mirth. It was a regular custom, this truancy of Barba.ra Allison and her father —one of the little human foibles which Caleb often told himself accounted, in part at least, for his real liking of the man. “Waffles it is.” he said, and he turned toward the boy. “Would you mind finding Miss Sarah. Steve?” he asked. “WilJ you tell her. please, that we are to be subjected to another neighborly imposition?" After the boy had disappeared Caleb followed the larger man tq a chair., And this time it was Caleb who met Allison’s silence with a challenging. ‘Well?" “Where did you "get him. Cal?” AlllMon demanded. “Where did you get him? Those shoes and those trousers—pants, I guess is the word, eh? And, say, how that little beggar did squeeze my hand! Look here!” , He held one soft hand up for inspection. There were faint red welts still visible across the finger joints. “Friend of yours, did you say?” Without stopping to think about It. Caleb was not so keen to enlarge upon the boy’s obvious “points” as he had been with Sarah. He omitted to mention his thoughts of the nigft before, and he omitted any reference to Old Tom, except for the most hazy explanation that the boy had no immediate kin. But with an increasing eagerness he dilated upon the small foot traveler’s first view of the “city,” his breathless reception of Allison’s own switch engine and his avowed intention to “look around a trifle” before he located something to do. “I thought I’d take him down this morning and get McLean to give him a ride in the cab of one of those sheet iron steam relics of yours.” be finished. If Caleb had expected his unadorned recitation boy’s appearance to make any impression upon his hearer he would have been disappointed. But without any confessed reason for so doing Caleb aimed rather at the opposite effect. And Allison turned from it with a large, matter Of fact indifference to rise and bow to Sarah Hunter, who appeared .that moment in the doorway. “Surely—surely,” he echoed Calebs suggestion. “Take him down and give him a ride. McLean ’ll be glad of the chance to show some one his pet buzzsaws and things. I’ll walk down with you myself after breakfast. I may be away for a day or two, and I want to leave directions for changes to be incorporated while I’m gone.” At the tablp that morning Caleb noted that there was nd hesitation in Steve’s selection from the silver beside his plate, no waiting to follow in the lead of Sarah Hunter’s choice. He noticed, too, that the boy’s eyes did not once lift to those of Barbara Allison, opposite him. And. while the little girl from time to time joined in the conversation, he not once opened his mouth to speak until they were almost ready to rise from their places. Barbara Allison insisted upon joining the excursion down to the mill that morning. She developed a sudden and unshakable resolve to be one of the party, and after his remonstrances had finally brought stormy tears to her eyes Allison surrendered in perplexity to her whim.

"All right, then,” he gave in. “If you want to come as much as all that, but—but you—now, run along, then, with Stephen.” On the way down the hill he voiced his perplexity to Caleb. “When it comes to dealing with men,” he said, “I pride myself upon being able to go back rather incisively to first motives. But the other sex is beyond me. She’s always turned up her dainty nose at the noise and dirt before, and—and now she’s ready to cry because I suggest that she wait with Miss Sarah until we return.” Caleb’s eyes rested upon the oddly matched little couple ahead in the road. The boy was carrying his battered hat in his hand, but Barbara walked with small head up, without a single glance for her escort. Caleb, noting that Steve's head was forward thrust, knew that his eyes must be fastened hungrily upon the town in the valley, and he understood the reason for the disdainful tilt of the little girl's chin, for even at the age of ten Barbara Allison was not accustomed to inattention. Caleb smiled rather covertly for him. • '■ ... ’ * . ’ » “I never knew but one woman whose motives were absolutely transparent,” he mused. “And she—she was the most uninteresting, unsuccessful female person I ever did know.” . As Allison had promised, they found McLean, the white haired mill superintendent, only too eager at the prospect” of an audience for one of his voluble tours of the premises. But when Caleb had explained the main errand upon which they had come, after a long, keen scrutiny of the boy’s face, the burly riverman led the way without a word to a wheezing old two wheeler in the piling yard. “So you'll be wantin’ to Hake a spin in one av me ingines, is it?” he asked then, and after a moment, “An’ do yon think you'll be able to hang on whin she gets to r-rollln’?” Steve’s eyes were like bits of polished steel, so bright they were. It was a struggle for him to take them even for a moment from the engine before him. “I cal'late I kin,” he quavered- “ Well, thin, we’ll see.” McLean looked up and winked at the engineer in the diminutive cab, “It’s car-reful you’ll be, Misther Engineer,” he cautioned, “an’ watch your steerin’ on the cur-rvos!” , /

fie lean'll over to'lift the boy to the running board. but Steve, with one foot upraised. hnng back. He facet! toward aleb and without a glance in the girl s direction said: . “Mebby she —mebby she'd like to go too?” ■’ Barbara Allison, chlrulffted a little higher, half wheeled and slipped her hand within that of her father. •’Thank ,von. but I don’t care to,” She refused. Steve caught thb little toss of her head from the corner of his eye, and his face went pink. Without another word he clambered Up beside the driver, and the engine rolled out of the yard and went clanking down the uneven. crooked track, leaving. a dissolving trail of steam betiind. When it returned the little face at the cab window was tense and somewhat pale beneath its tan. but the hand upon the throttle beside the engineer's lay steady as a little pine knot. “Well, an' what do you think nr her?” McLean demanded with an assumption of anxiety as the boy dropped to the ground. Steve turned and patted the foot board with a- proprietary hand. As grave of mien as his questioner he bobbed his head. " , “She—she certainly kin git up and step.” he volunteered. And then, cocking his head judiciously, “i'll hev to be a-gittin' me one of them fer myself some day!” McLean chuckled —he chuckled in deep delight within his white whiskers

—and led the way td the mills. But once there the amusement in his eyes rapidly deepened to amazement, for there were few steps in the processes upon which the boy could not talk as flaem'v and technically as did the mill ;.oss himself. And he knew timber—knew jt with the same infallibility which had even in McLean always seemed to border upon the uncanny. It was Allison himself who first call ed attention to an unsawed log which was being discarded. “That looks like toa good a stick to be wasted, doesn’t it, McLean?” he asked. Before McLean, could answer the boy spat gravely into g ,pil<B s =e£--*«e a till. ITT his^pipiue—v-otrr r nsing above the shrill scream of the saws. “She’s holler,” he stated succinctly “Dry rotten above the stub!” And when Allison raised his brows interrogatively McLean dropped one hand upon the boy's shoulder, a bit of pride in the gesture. “Holler she is,” he agreed, and he added, “An’ I’ll be afther know’in’ where to find a riverman av the old school, I’m thinkin’, somQ day whin the need arises.” (To be continued.)

The Boy Rose and Stood Hat In Hand, Gravely Quiet.

"Mebby she—mebby she’d like to go too?”