Jasper County Democrat, Volume 21, Number 80, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 January 1919 — North of Fifty-Three [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

North of Fifty-Three

by Bertrand W. Sinclair

Ccpuridht Tn LITTLE, LLOLII &Ca

CHAPTER 11. ■ r “I Do Give and Bequeath.” ! When Jack i Barrow called again, which happened to be that very evejning, Hazel told him simply that she ■had left Harrington & Bush, without entering Into any explanation except •the general one that she had found it (Impossible to get on with Mr. Bush in [her new position. And Jack, being imore concerned with her than with her Eork, gave the matter scant consideraon. ' This was on a Friday. The next {forenoon Hazel went downtown. When whe returned, a little before eleven, the {maid of all work was putting the last itonches to her room. The girl pointed Ito an oblong package on a ehair. ■ “That came for you a little while lego, Miss Weir,” she said. “Mr. Bush’s {carriage brought it.” “Mr. Bush’s carriage I” Hazel echoed. “Yes’m. Regular swell turnout, with la footman in brown livery. My, you could see the girls peeking all along ;the square when it stopped at our Idoor. It quite flustered the missus.” The girl lingered a second, curiosity (writ large on her countenance. Plainly she wished to discover what Miss Hasel Weir would be getting in a package that was delivered in so aristocratic a manner. But Hazel was in no mood to gratify anyone’s curiosity. She was angry at the presumption of Mr. Andrew Bush. It was an excellent way of subjecting her to remark. She drew off her gloves, and, laying aside her hat, picked up a newspaper, end began to read. The girl, with no excuse for lingering, reluctantly gathered up het broom and dustpan, and departed. When she was gone, and not till then, Miss Weir investigated the parcel. Roses —two dozen long-stemmed La Frances —filled the room with their delicate odor when she removed the pasteboard cover. And set edgewise among the stems she found his card. Miss Weir turned up her small nose, i. “I wonder if he sends these as a

sort of peace offering?” she snorted. “I wonder if a few hours of reflection has made him realize just how exceedingly caddish he acted? Well, Mr. Bush, I’ll return your unwelcome gift —though they are beautiful flowers.” And she did forthwith, squandering 40 cents on a messenger boy to deliver them to Mr. Bush at his office. She wished him to labor under no misapprehension as to her attitude. • The next day—Sunday—she spent with Jack Barrow on a visit to his cousin in a nearby town. They parted, as was their custom, at the door. It was still early in the evening—eightthirty, or thereabouts —and Hazel went into the parlor on the first floor. Mrs. Stout and one of her boarders sat there chatting, and at Hazel’s entrance the landlady greeted her with a startling bit of news: “Evenin’, Miss Weir. ’Ave you ’eard about Mr. Bush, pore gentleman?” Mrs. Stout was very English. “Mr. Bush? No. What about him?" “ ’E was ’urt shockin’ bad this awft’noon,” Mrs. Stout related. “Out 'orseback ridln’, and ’is ’orse ran away with ’im, and fell on ’im. Fell all of a *eap, they day. Terrible—terrible! The pore man isn’t expected to live. ’ls back’s broke, they say. W'at a pity! Shockin’ accident, Indeed,” Miss Weir voiced perfunctory sympathy, as was expected of her, seeing that she was an employee of the firm—or had been lately. But close upon that she escaped to her own room. She did not relish sitting there discussing Mr. Andrew Bush. Nevertheless she kept thinking of him long after she went to bed. She was not at all vindictive, and his misfortune, the sact —if the report were true—that he was facing his end, stirred her pity. The report of his Injury was verified In the morning papers. By evening it had pretty well passed out of Hazel’s mind. She had more pleasant concerns. Jack Barrow dropped in about six-thirty to ask if she wanted to go with him to a concert during the week.

They were sitting in the parlor, by a front window, chattering to each other, but not so engrossed that they failed to notice a carriage drawn by two splendid grays pilll up at the front gate. The footman, in brown livery, got down and came to the door. Hazel knew the carriage. She had seen Mr. Andrew Bush abroad in it many a time. She wondered if there was some further annoyance in store for her, and frowned at-the prospect. She heard Mrs. Stout answer the bell In person. There was a low mumble of voices. Then the landlady appeared in the parlor doorway, the footman behind her. “This is the lady.” Mrs. Stout indicated Hazel. “A message for you, Miss Weir.” The liveried person bowed and extended an envelope. “I was Instructed to deliver this to you personally,” he said, and lingered as if he looked for further instructions. Hazel looked at the envelope. She could not understand why, under the circumstances, any message should come to her through such a medium. But there was her name inscribed. She glanced up. Mrs. Stout gazed past the footman with an air of frank anticipation. Ja<ck also was looking. But the landlady caught Hazel's glance and backed out the door, and Hazel opened the letter. The note was brief and to the point: Miss Weir: Mr. Bush, being seriously injured and unable to write, bids me say that he is very anxious to see you. He sends his carriage to convey you here. His physicians fear that he • will not survive the night, hence he begs of you to come. Very truly, ETHEL R. WATSON. Nurse in Walting. "The ideal Of course I won’t! I wouldn’t think of such a thing !” Hazel exaaimed. [ “Just a second,” she said to the footman. pver on the parlor mantel lay some sheets of paper and envelopes. She borrowed a pencil from Barrow and scribbled a brief refusal. The footman departed with her answer. Hazel turned to find Jack staring his puzzlement. “What did he want?” Barrow asked bluntly. “That was the Bush turnout, wasn’t it?” “You heard about Mr. Bush getting hurt, didn’t you?”.she inquired. “Saw it in the paper. Why?” “Nothing, except that he is supposed to be dying—and he wanted to see me. At least —jvell, read the note,” Hazel answered. Barrow glancfed over the missive and frowned. “What do you suppose he wanted

you for?” he asked. “/How should I know?” Hazel evaded. “Seems funny,” he remarked slowly. “Oh, let’s forget It.” Hazel came and sat down on the couch by him. “1

don’t know of any reason why he should want to see me. It was certainly a peculiar request for him to make- But that’s no reason why we (TO BE CONTINUED.)

Barrow Glanced Over the Missive and Frowned.