Rensselaer Republican, Volume 25, Number 10, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 November 1892 — HIS FATHER'S SON. [ARTICLE]

HIS FATHER'S SON.

- »T WBJtS VOWtIKT CaAVES. 'Hr*. Weekly. i>« nothing against theJaflr Mid Mr, Benfie d. "I dare say he’s good enough in his way, but I don’t like the stock he comes from. In a place like this, you know, it won't <io to risk anything.” Roderick Kelfer. standing in the little telegraph o;Kce of the mountain plateau, could hear plainly the words bis principal spoke. The rocky side •Of the cliff acted as a complete sounding board, and the color vanished •out of his cheeks as the unwelcome utterances reached his ear. He was a tall, pale young fellow of two or three and twenty, not handsome, but nevertheless pleasant to look upon and at the sound of Mr. Henfield’s voice, he braced himself, as in a court of justice the prisoner sometimes braces himself to receive the sentence. “I suppose it isn’t exactly an honorable thing forisHS to be ea*osdrofP Bing here,” he said to himself, “but I don't know that honor has any particular connection with the race of Kelfer. At any rate, it means life or death to me, so here goes I” Roderick Kelfer was the telegraph operator at Hornet station, 'on Hornet mountain. Matthew Henfleld was the local superintendent, and John Jaycox, the round shouldered little man now walking at his side, was the general factotum at that solitary spot. From his vantage point above, Roderick could see them slowly ascending the steep and sinuous path. A brief silence succeeded the superintendent’s remark. “Humph!” commented Jaycox. “The question is, is it a risk/ So far as 1 know, the young man has always done his duty." “I thought Jayeox would standmy friend,” muttered Kelfer. “In our affairs,” epigrammatically spoke Henfleld, ‘‘everything that is not a certainty is a risk. That boozy •old flagman whom I have just dismissed—:=vr % “It’s come to that, has It!” thought Kelfer, with a red spot burning Into Lis cheek bone.

“Oh, yes, I know,” acknowledged Jaycox. “But the father and son are quite different.” “I hope so, I'm sure,” said Henfield. “But you know the. old saying about what is bred in the bone.” “I don’t think there’s anything in that,” stud Jaycox, “but of course it is for you to decide. Who would you Itke to putrfta irts prtaeef ’ " (“So I’m shelved!” muttered Keller, savagely gnawing his black moustache. ' “Two years of hard work and steady behavior are to go for nothing; and all because I am my lather's son!”) Another brief silence ensued. * “Matty Minton is a good hand, isn’t she?” observed the elder man. “Put her here. Let Mrs. Dikeman 1 take Miss Minton's place.” “And what am I to tell Kelfer?” “Nothing. We are not bound to argue the question with our employes,” said the company’s representative. “He’s to go—that'B sufficient, isn’t it?” Roderick Kelfer went back into • the station. He could no longer hear the voices, but he could see Henfleld turn in the direction of the nearest station, while Jaycox continued to slow way up the ascent. He sat and stared at the shining keys, at the maps and time tables hanging on the walls, at the uneven Jboardfloor.—— Of all rjjnk injustices this seemed to him the rankest. What had he done to deserve this? In the days of the Old Testament it was a common thing for the sins of the fathers to be visited on the children ; but he had imagined himself to be living under a new dispensation, in which fight and justice were supposed to play some part. He was to be dismissed. what was to become of his mother ? And Matty Minton—the girl he loved and had hoped one day to marry—she was to be put in his place! “I’m sorry, Kelfer—l am, Indeed I ” said Jaycox, us be spoke the young operator’s doom. “Thank you 1" said Roderick, slowly, “I suppose it can’t be helped. ” • ■ 'u’ve no fault to find with you, ” #<eht on the superior. place, ” said Kelfer, still looking blankly out toward the distant peaks of the Rockies. 7Y, “ Any reference that you may desire ” “ Thank you i ” again spoke Roderick. “ But I don’t know that references will be especially useful to—my father’s son I When does the new oporator come ? ” To-morrow, I suppose. I shall communicate with her to-night. It’S that Miss Mintou from Valley Curve. IVs a lonesome place for a woman, but I suppose she’ll bring up her old aunt with her, and she’s used to that sort of thing. They tell me she’s a . first class operator: but, all the same, Kelfer, I'm right down sorry to part with you. " « * * # “Is it true?” said old Andrew Kelfer. “My boy turned out of his place ? And oil along o' me ? ” “ Yes, all along o’ you, ” said Mrs. Ko’fer. rocking herself back and fofftfi in the extremity of her distress. “ I knew ii would.tomesome time. And now I hope you are satisfied. ” “ Body’s a good boy, ’’ said the old man vhguely. “He never jaws me, Rody don’t. I ain’t allays on the straight, but Rody ain’t one to nag.” - “ ’Cause he knotrs it won t do no good, " said thfc old woman, still ve hemcnUy rocking herself. “ All the same,,you had At ought to go scot frfee. You're a sot—u reg'iar toper ! You’re a disgrace to the Mountain. ” “You shut up!” inarticulately muttered Kelfer, “Leinme understand it. Rody turned out and anew hand put in his place?” “Yes, just that!” shrilled the, old

; ■ spiraey! i Waa drunk; I own it. The Kelfers don't lie. But- thlMn’t against Rody. He’s a good )&f . He ain’t everlastingly pickin’ cm mo. And, , took ye, Marindy, there shan’t no opei ator work the machine on Hornet mountain but Rody Kelfer — not as long I'm livin’, company or no company! Where’s my supper?” he added, suddenly and sharply. “' “There ain’t no supper, and there won’t be till you go out and dig the potatoes.” “I won’t dig no potatoes.” snarled old Andy, as he rose and shuffled out of the cabin. ' v. . His wife, bound relentlessly down by the iron clauses of rheumatism, looked piteously after him. “It’s a bad lookout,"she said,aloud “and I don’t blame Roderick for getting discouraged.” It was nine o’clock at night. The great, blazing stars show like lamps in the dry, clear western heavens. The bark of the coyote sounded across the hills and Mrs. Kelfer sat helplessly in her splint bottomed rocker, when the door opened and a tall, slight figure came in with swift; light steps. “Matty!” she cried out. “Is that you Matty? The Lord be thanked! He has sent you to my help this night!” “ “ “What for?” said Matty Minton, rosy and breathless with the climb up Hornet steeps. “Oh, Mrs. Kelfer, I’ve come to tell you that I won’t take Roderick's place—not if the salary was a million dollars a year and me and Aunt Putney starving! Do you think I'm as base as that? No. I’d go back and beg my bread in the east before I’d do it! But—” “Matty, listen!” cried Mrs. Kelfer, pale and panting. “Don’t I tell you that the Lord has sent you here? Andrew’s worse's common to-night—-oh, a deal worse!” with a quick catching of her breath; “ana he’s got it in bis head that Body's turned out and a new hand has took his place, and he’s slung up the bill with a can o’ kerosene oil and a box o’ lucifer matches to set the place on fire, and it’s just the time my poor boy turns in for his four hour’s sleep Oh, my God! and me a-settin’ helpless here like an old decayed log! Run, Matty—run! you’re young and quick, and —and — r ' The girl sprang to her feet. “How long is it since he left here?" she asked. "k “I don’t know!” wailed the old woman. “It may be ten minutes—it may be half'an hour. I can’t measure time when I’m all of a mortal fright like this. Run, Mattyrun!” ' . .. . , . The last adjuration was quite unnecessary Matty Minton had already rushed out into the purDle, star sparkling night, her breath coming quickly, her cheeks pale as ivory, * * * • e * « “Mr. Roderick! Mr. Roderick! Wake up! the station is on fire! Wake up, I sayl Oh, wake, or you will be burned to death!” • • • Across the drowsy current of bis dreams came her sweet, high-pitched voice as he lay on the heap of buffalo robes, with the big official books under his head for a pillow! A dream? Of course it was a dream. How could Matty Minton be here, on Hornet Mountain, at this time of night? After this, how could she ever be anything to him but a dream? And then someting hot, like the breath of a fiery dragon, rolled across his cheek } a lurid brightness blazed around him, and he started into consciousness' that Ihe iailatn malile, pine resined walls of the little station were on fire, and that Matty Minton was close to him, shaking his shoulder and crying, “Roderick! Mr.Roderickl” in his ear. Fortunately the simple fire extinguishing apparatus in the comer was in good working order and the row of water pails were full. Roderick Kelfor himself had seen to that as he saw it every night. No great harm was done beyond a few charred boards and a general smoke blackening. The night train was signaled as usual, the brief telegrams sent either way, before Roderick found time to say in deep, tremulous acoents, “Matty, you have saved my life!” “Thanks to your mother—yes!” cried the girl, standiug pale* and trembling beside him. “But I m sorry to turn the place over to you in such a condition as this,” said he, with a sickly smile. “For I suppose you’ll be transferred here to-morrow—to-day, rather.” “But I won't!" exclaimed Matty. “I’ll uever take your place, Roderick.” “But the superintendent—”

‘T don't care if he was forty superintendents!” illogically cried Miss Minton. “He can’t make me come here. And I won't!”,---- - “It is bad policy to offend Mr. Henfield, Matty!" he reasoned. “Stop and reflect. I-wm f man. I cau shift for myself any whore.” Matty glanced shyly up fct him through her long eyelashes. “There’s only one man I’m afraid of offending,'’ said she. “And—and that is you, Roderick Kelfer.” “Matty! Afraid of me?" “You have burned your hand!" she said, with a sudden little ery. “Ob, look! And you told me vou were unhurt!” ‘Never mind toy hand, Matty. Answer me the question —are you afraid—of me?" “Not-just—afraid!" she whispered. “But—oh, Roderick, don’t took at me so steadfastly 1" “Matty, is it possible? Ob,Matty, my darling, do you love me!" he exclaimed. T Even then she turned her face away from him with a girl's trae instinct o{ coquettish ness. “The poor burned hand!” she murmured, laying her cheek , softly against it, “Let me wrap rnv handkerchief aroand.it. Yes, Roderick, I do love you. Oh, eo much, dear, dearest Roderick!” one ever knew how the Hornet

“I think, Jaycox, we won’t disturb the existing arrangements- Miss Milton can have the new position on Pax “I don't think,” said Jaycox, ‘that shell accept any position, sit- She’s going to be married. ” “Oh.” said Mr. Henfield. rubbing his nose. ‘That’s the worst of employing girls in this business. The rro.nent they become of real use they get married” Well let her suit herself. Did you tell me that old Kelfer was dead?’"*-7?%'-^-.: “Yes, sir," said Jaycox. Quite sudden. Walking -on the track. Close by Benbow’s Crook. Flung off by a cowcatcher. Picked up quite dead. Had a package of matches clutched tight in his hand. Likely he thought he was going to bis light house as usual, poor old soul!” “Hump!” said the superintendent. “Small loss. I suspect.*' ■ And the popular opinion of Hornet Mountain was with him in this verdict, *