Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 31, Number 264, 21 October 1906 — Page 9

Page Nine. TBy Irving JBcvchellcf . Continued from ILast Sunday

The Richmond Palladium. Sunday, October 21, 1906.

AIRMAIL

"Well, the boast o' Brooke went iron one to another an' at last to the wid

ow's ear. They say a look o" firmness an resolution came into her face, an late in August they were married of an evening at the home o' Brooke. Well. about then, I had been having trouble. "Trouble?" said Trove. "It was another s trouble that or a client mine, a poor woman out in the country. Brooke had a mortgage on her cattle, an she could not pay, an" I undertook to help her. I bad n?pney due me, but was unable to put me hand on it. That day before the wedding I went to the old sinner. " 'Brooke, I came to see about the Martha Vaughn mortgage, says I." "Martha Vaughn!" said Trove, turn1 Ing quickly. "Yes; one o' God's people," said th tinker. "Ye may have seen her." "I have seen her," said Trove. "'At 10 o'clock tomorrow I shall foreclose, saya Brooke, waving his fist "'Give her a little time till the day after tomorrow. Man, it is not much to ask. says I. I " 'Not an hour,' says he, an' I came awpy. "But, God be praised," said Darrel, "Brooke was unable to foreclose that ' day, an' the next was Sunday, an' bright an early on Monday morning I : paid the debt." "Mrs. Vaughn has a daughter," said Trove, blushing. - "Aye, an' she hath a pretty redness In her lip," said Darrel quickly, "an' a merry flash in her eye. Thou hast yet far to go, boy. Look not upon her now or she will trip thee. By an by, boy; by aoVby'--;iJ'-xnere was nil kiu rrnu in tmrrw. jB familiar talk he often made use of "ye" a shortened "you" in speaking to those of old acquaintance, but when there was man or topic to rouse him Into higher dignity it was more often thee" or "thou" with him. Trove made no answer and shortly went away. CHAPTER XI. CIIRISTMAS eve had come and the year of 1S50. For two weeks snow had rusfced over the creaking gable of the forest above Martha Vaughn's to pile In drifts or go hissing down the long hillside. A freezing blast had driven It to the roots of the stubble and sown it : deep and rolled it Into ridges and whirled It into heaps and mounds or flung it far in long waves that seemed to plunge, as If part of a white sea. and brealc -over fence and "roof and chimney in their down rush. Candle and fire light filtered through frosty panes and glowed dimly under, dark fathoms of the snow sheet now flying full of voices. Mrs. Vaughn . opened her door a moment . to peer out. A great horned owl flashed across the light beam with a snap and rustle of wings and a cry "Oo-oo-oo! ' lonely, like that, as if it were the spirit of arkness " and ""the " cold wind.-"" Mrs. Vaughn started, turning quickly and closing the door. "Ugh. what a sound !" said PoTly. "It reminds me of a ghost story." "Well." said the widow, "that thing belongs to the only family o real ghosts in the world." "What was It?" said a small boy. There were Tolly and three children I about the fireplace. ' , "An air cat," said she . shivering, her back to the fire. "They go round at night in a great sheet o feathers an rustle it, ' ah i declare they do cry , lonesome. Got terrible claws too!" s "Ever hurt folks?" one of the boys t Inquired. I ; ".No; but they're just like some kinds j o people ye want to let em alone. I Any one that'll shake hands with an owl would be fool enough to eat flshI hooks. They're not made for frieudi ship, those owls." I" Presently she sat down by a table, 1 where there were candles, and began 1 reading aloud from a county paper. She read auecdotes of men remark'able for their success and piety, and an account of Indian fighting, interrupted, as a red man lifted his tomahawk to slay, by the rattle of an arrow on the I buttery door. f it was on tne cross gun or young story and had taken aim at the said Indian just in the nick of time. ; She read also the old sweet story of the coming of the Christ Child. "Some say it was a night like this, said she as the story ended. .-.-; , Taul had listened, his thin," sober face glowing. ' m :k1'"' ' : . "I'll bet ' Santa " Claus was good to Jtca" said he. "Brought him sleds an candy an nuts an raisins an new boots an everything." "Why do you think so?' asked his mother, who was now reading intently. " 'Cos . he s 'was a good boy. lie wouldn't cry if he had to fill the wood j box. would he, mother?" J( That query held a hidden rebuke for nis rrotuer iomn "I do not 'know,x but I do not think he was ever saucy or spoke a bad word." . "Huh!" said Tom reflectively. "Then

$ I guess he never had no mustard plas

ter put on him. The widow bade him hush. "Er never had nuthln done to him, neither,' the boy continued, rocking vigorously in his little chair. "Mustn't speak so of Christ," the mother added. "Waal," said Paul, rising, "I guess I'll hang up my stockin's." "One'll do. Paul." said his sister roily, with a knowing air. "No, 'twon't." the boy Insisted. "They ain't half as big as yours. I'm gain' f try it anyway, an see what he'll do to cm." He drew oT his stockings and pinned them carefully to the braces on the back of a chair. "Well, my son," said Mrs. Vaughn, I looking over the top of her paper, "it's bad weather. Santa Claus may not be able to get. here." : "Oh. yes. he can," said the boy confldently. but with a little quiver of 1 alarm in bis voice. "I'm euro he'll i rorne. He has. a team of reindeers. An the deeper the snow the faster ey go. " Soon the others bared their feet and zxms their stockings on four chairs In

a row beside the first. Then they all got on the bed In the corner and pulled a quilt over them to wait for Santa Claus. The mother went on with her reading as they chattered. Sleep hushed them presently. But for the crackling of the fire and the push and whistle of the wind that room had become as a peaceful, silent cave under the storm. The widow rose stealthily and opened a bureau drawer. The row of limp stockings began to look cheerful and animated. Little packages fell to their toes, and the shortest began to reach for the floor, but while they were fat in the foot they were still very lean in the leg. Her apron empty, Mrs. Vaughn took her knitting to the fire and before she began to ply the needles looked thoughtfully at her hands. They had been soft and shapely before the days of toil. A frail but comely woman she was, with pale face and dark eyes and hair prematurely gray. She had come west, a girl of nine

teen, with her young husband, full of high hopes. That was twenty-one years ago, and the new land had poorly kept its promise. And the .children "IIow many have you?" a caller had once inquired. "Listen," said she, "bear 'em, an you'd say there were fifteen, but count 'em, an' they're only four." The low, weathered house and sixty acres were mortgaged. Even the wilderness had not wholly signed off Its claim." Every year it exacted tribute, the foxes taking a. share of her poul-try-'nad-the wild deer feeding on her grain. - Presently there came a heavy step and a quick pull at the latchstring. An odd figure entered in a swirl of snow a real Santa Claus, the mystery and blessing of Cedar hill. For five years every Christmas eve In good or bad weather he had come to four little houses on the hill, where, Indeed, his coming had been as a godsend. Whence he came and who he might be none had been able to guess. - He never spoke in his official capacity, and no citizen of Faraway had such a beard or figure as this man. Now his fur coat, his beard and eyebrows were hoary with snow, and frost. Icicles hung from hla mustache around the short clay pipe of tradition. He lower ed a great sack and brushed the snow off It He had borne It high on his back, with a strap at each shoulder. The sack was now about half full of things. He took out three big bundles and laid them on the table. They were evidently for the widow herself, who quickly stepped to the bedside. "Come children," she whispered, rousing them, "here Is Santa Claus." They scrambled down, rubbing their eyes. Polly took the hands of the two small boys and led them near him. Paul drew his hand away and stood 'spellbound, eyes and mouth open. He watched every motion of the good saint who had come to that chair that held the little stockings. Santa Claus put a pair of boots on It They were copper toed, with gorgeous front pieces of red morocco at the top of the leg. Then, as If he had some relish of a joke, he took them up, looked them over thoughtfully and put them back In the sack again, whereupon the boy Paul burst Into tears. Old Santa Claus, shaking with silent laughter, replaced them in the chair quickly. As if to lighten the boy's heart he opened a box and took out a mouth organ. He held it so the light sparkled on its shiny side. Then he put his pipe in his pocket and began to dance and play lively music. Step and tune quickened. The bulky figure was flying up and down above a great clatter of big boots, his head wagging to keep time. The oldest children were laughing, and the boy Paul began to smile in the midst of a great sob that shook him to the toes. The player stopped suddenly, stuffed the Instrument in a stocking and went on with his work. Presently he uncovered a stick of candy long as a man's arm. There were spiral stripes of red from end to end of it He used It for a fiddle bow, whistling with terrific energy and sawing the air. Then he put shawls and tippets and boots and various little packages on the other chairs. ' At last he drew out of the sack a sheet of pasteboard, with 6trlng attached, and hung it on the wall. It bore the simple message, rudely lettered In black, as follows; V. Mery Crisraas.- And Children 1 have the honnor to remane, Yours Respec' fully SANDY CLAUS. His work done, , he swung his pack to his shoulders and made off as they broke the silence with a hearty "Thank you, Santa Claus!" They listened a moment as he went away with a loud and merry laugh sounding above the roar of the wind. It was the voice of a big and gentle heart, but gave no other clew. In a moment cries of delight and a rustle of wrappings filled the room. As on j wings of the bitter wind, joy and good j fortune had come to them and in that i little house had drifted deep as the ! snow without The children went to their beds with slow feet and quick pulses. Paul beg ged for the sacred privilege of wearing his new boots to bed, but compromised j on having them beside bis pillow. The boys went to sleep at last with all their, treasures heaped about them. Tom shortly rolled upon the little jumping jack, that broke away and butted him in the face with a loud squawk. It roused the boy. who promptly set up a defense In which the stuffed hen lost her tail feathers and the jumping jack was violently put out of bed. When the mother came to see what had happened order had been restored the boys were both sleeping. It was an odd little room under bare shingles above stairs. Great chests filled with relics of another time and country sat against the walls. Here and there a bunch of herbs or a few ears of corn, their husks braided, hung on the bare rafters. The aroma of the summer fields of peppermint catnip and lobelia haunted it Chimney and stovepipe tempered the cold. A crack In the gable end let ia a sift of snow that had been heaping up a lonely little drift on the bare floor. The widow ,

covered the boys tenderly ana toon

their treasures off the bed, all save the little wooden monkey, which, as If TJie bulky figure was flying up and down. frightened by the melee, had hidden far under the clothes. She went below stairs to the fire, wbich every cold day was well fed until after midnight, and began to enjoy the sight of her own gifts. They were a haunch of venison, a sack of flour, a shawl and mittens. A small package had fallen to the floor. It was neatly bound with wrappings of blue paper. Under the last layer was a little box, the words "For Polly" on its cover. It held a locket of wrought gold that outshone the light of the candles. She touched a spring, and the case opened. Inside was a lock of hair white as her own. There were three lines cut in the glowing metal, and she read them over and over again: Here are silver and sold. The one for a day of remembrance between thee and dishonor. The other for a day of plenty between thee and want She went to her bed presently, where the girl lay sleeping, and, lifting dark masses of her hair, kissed a ruddy cheek. Then the widow stood a moment, wiping her eyes. CHAPTER XII. I' OXG before daylight one could hear the slowing of the wind. Its caravan, now reaching eastward to midocean, was. nearly passed. Scattered gusts hurried on, like weary and belated followers. Then suddenly came a silence in which one might have heard the dust of their fet falling, their shouts receding In the far woodland. The sun rose in a clear sky above the patched and ragged canopy of the woods a weary multitude now resting In the still air. The children were up looking for tracks of reindeer and breaking paths In the snow. Sunlight glimmered in far flung jewels of the frost king. They' lay deep, clinking as the foot sank in them. At the Vaughn home it was an eventful day. Santa Claus well, he is the great captain that leads us to the farther gate of childhood and surrenders the golden key. Many ways are beyond the gate, some steep and thorny, and some who pass it turn back, with bleeding feet and wet eyes, but the gate opens not again for any that have passed. , Tom' had got the key and begun to try it Santa Claus had winked at him, with a snaring eye, like that of his aunt when she had sugar In her pocket, and Tom thought it very foolish. The boy had even felt of his greatcoat and got a good look at his boots and trousers. Moreover, when he put his pipe away, Tom saw him take a chew of tobacco an abhorrent thing if he were to believe his mother. "Mother," said he, "I never knew Santa Claus chewed tobacco." "Well, mebbe he was Santa Claus hired man," said she. "Might 'a' bad the toothache,'; Paul suggested, for Lew Allen, who worked for them in the summer time, had a habitual toothache, relieved many times a day by chewing tobacco. Tom sat looking into the fire a moment Then he spoke of a matter Paul and he had discussed secretly. "Joe Bellus he tol me Santa Claus was only somebody rigged up t' fool folks an' hadn't no reindeers at all." The mother turned away, her wits groping for an answer. "Hadn't ought to a told mother, Tom," said Paul, with a little quiver of reproach and pity. " 'Tain't so, anyway we know 'tain't so." He was looking Into his mother's face. . " 'Tain't so," Paul repeated with unshaken confidence. "Mus'n't believe all ye hear," said the widow, who now turned to the doubting Thomas. And that very moment Tom was nnmo tr the aat traei nt fhildhnrd ! whereon are the black and necessary words, "Mus'n't believe all ye hear." The boys in their new boots were on the track of a panther. They treed him presently at the foot of the stairs. - "How'll we kill him?" one of them inquired. "Just walk around the tree once'," said the mother, "an tou'11 scare him to death. Why don't ye grease your boo ?.?' "'Fraid It'll take the screak out of 'em.'' said Paul, looking down thoughtfully at his own pair. "Well," said she, "you'll have me treed if you keep on. No hunter would have boots like that A loud foot makes a still gun." ' That was her unfailing method of control, the appeal to intelligence. Pol ly sat singing thoughtfully, the locket ; in her hand. She had kissed the sacred thing and hung it by a ribbon to her neck and bathed her eyes in the golden light of It and begun to feel the subtle pathos in its odd message. She was thinking of the handsome boy who came along that far May day with, the drove and who lately had returned to be her teacher at Linley school. Now he had so much dignity and learning j she liked hira not half so well and felt j be had no longer any care for her. She I blusbed to think how she had wept over his letter and kissed it every day for weeks. Her drejm was interrupted I

presently by the call or ner oroiner Tom. Having cut the frost on a window pane, he stood peering out A man was approaching in the near field. His figure showed to the boot top mounting hills of snow and sank out of sight in the deep hollows. It looked as If he were walking on a rough sea. In a moment he came striding over the dooryarJ fence oa a pair of snowshoes. "It's Mr. Trove,, the teacher." said Polly, Trho quickly began to shake her curls. 'A. As the door swung open all greeted the young man. Loosening his snowshoe, he flung them on the step and came in, a fox tail dangling from his fur cap. He shook hands with Polly and her mother and lifted Paul to the ceiling. "Hello, young man!" said he. "If one is four, how many are two?" "If ;ou're speaking of new boots," said the widow, "one is at least fifteen." The schoolteacher made no reply, but stood a moment looking down at tiie boy. - , "It's a cold day," said roily. "I like It" said, the teacher, lifting his broad shoulders and smiting them with his hands. "God has been house cleaning. The dome of the sky is all swept and dusted. There isn't a cobweb anywhere. Santa Claus come?" "Yes," said the younger children, who made a rush for their gifts and laid them on chairs before him. "Grand old chap!" said be, staring thoughtfully at the flannel cat ia his bands. "Any idea who it is?" "Can't make out," said Mrs. Vaughn; "very singular man." . ' "Generous, too," the teacher added. That's the best cat I ever saw, Tom. If I had my way the cats would all be

made of flannel. Miss Polly, what did you get?" ' " "This," said Polly banding him the locket "Beautiful!" said he, turning it in his hand. "Anything inside?" Polly showed him how to open It He sat a moment or more looking at the graven gold. "Strange!" said he presently, surveying the wrought cases. ' Mrs. Vaughn was now at his elbow. "Strange?" she Inquired. "Well, long ago." said he, T heard of one like It. Some time It may solve the mystery of your Santa Claus." An ear of the teacher had begun to swell and reddn. "Should have pulled my cap down," said he as the widow spoke of It "Frostbitten years ago, and if I'm out long in the cold J begin to feel it" "Must be very painful," said Polly, as indeed it was. "No," said he, with a little squint as he touched the aching member. "It's good. I rather like it. I wouldn't take anything for that ear. It it" He hesitated, as if trying to recall the advantages of a chilled ear. "Well, I shouldn't know I bad any ears if it weren't for that one." CHAPTER XIII. A REMARKABLE figure was young Sidney Trove, the new teacher In district No. 1. He was nearing nineteen years of age that winter. T like that,' he said to the trustee, who had been telling him of the unruly boys, great, bulking fellows that made trouble every : winter term. "Troubleit's a grand thing but I'm not selfish,! flnrl If T find fin v T'll hdtpo to rlividA it with the boys.j I don't know but I'll be generous and! let them have the most of It If they put me out of the schoolhouse I'll have learned something." The trustee looked at the six feet and two Inches of bone and muscle that sat lounging in a chair looked from end to end of it "What's that?" he inquired, smiling. "That I've;; no business there," said young Mr. Trove. "I guess you'll dew," said the trustee. "Make 'em toe the line; that's all I got t' say."!! "And all I'Ve got to do Is my best. I don't promia? any more," the other answered modestly as he rose to leave. Linley schcol was at the four corners in Pleasant valley a low frame structure, small and weathered gray. Windows, with no shade or shutter, were set, twd on a side, in perfect apposition. A passing traveler could see through them to the rocky pasture beyond. Who etime there for knowledge, though a fool.was dubbed a "scholar."

It was a word sharply etched in the j piace where his hands and feet were dialect of that region. If one were tc J clinging like the roots of a tree, dragsay "skollur-r he might come. near; ged bim roUghly to the aisle and over It. Every winter morning the scholai noor Dace taklnr nart of thft Bpnt

entered a little vestibule which was; Dart of the wood shed. He nassed an ash barrel and the odor of drying j wood, hung cap and coat on a peg in j the closet, lifted the latch of a pinej door and came into the schoolroom. II j before 9 it would be noisy with shout I and laughter, the buzz of tongues, the j tread of running feet Big girls in neat aprons would be gossiping at the j stove hearth; small boys would be

chasing each other up and down aisles ; primer clasg ..Spell it 0Ter g0 you and leaping the whittled desks of pine; f won-t have to stop long between words, little girls in checked flannel or home- j A1, who read It weI1 tomorrow will get spun would be circling in a song play;! another chapter" big boys would be trying feats of; They began to study at home. Wonstrength that ended In loud laughter.. and pIeasure came with la. So It was the first morning of thati bor as th talo wnt nn

winter term in 1S50. A tall youth j stood by the window. Suddenly he gave a loud "Sh-h-h!" Running feet t fell silently and halted; word3 be-i gun with a shout ended in a whisper. J A boy making caricatures at the black- ? board dropped his chalk that now fell ' noisily. A whisper, heavy with awe ; and expectation, flew hissing from lip? to lip, "The teacher!" There came a! tramping in the vestibule, the door' latch jumped with a loud rattle, and; in came Sidney Trove. All eyes were, turned upon him. A look of rectitude, ; dovelike and too good to be true, came f over many faces. "Good morning," said the young man, removing his cap, coat and overshoes. Some nodded, dumb with timidity. Only a few little ones had the bravery tc speak up, as they gave back the words in a tone that would have fitted a golden text He came to the roaring stove and stood a moment warming his hands. A group of the bis boys were la a corner whispering. Two - were

sturdy and quite six reet tail me Beach boys. ."Big as a bull moose," one whispered. "An stouter." said another. The teacher took a pencil from his pocket and tapped the desk. "Please take your seats." said he. All obeyed. Then he went around with the roll and took their names, of which there were thirty-four. "I believe I know your name." said Trove, smiling, as he came to Polly Vaughn. "I believe you do," said she. glancing

up at him. with half a smile and a little move in ' her lips that seemed tc ask, "How could you forget me?" Then the teacher, knowing the peril of her eyes, became very dignified as he glanced over the books she had brought to school. He knew It was going to be a hard day. For a little he wondered if he had not been foolish, after all, in trying a job so difficult and so perilous. If be should be thrown out of school he felt sure it would ruin him he could never look Polly in the face again. As he turned to begin the work of teaching It seemed to him a case of do or die, and he felt the strength of an ox in bis heavy mus cles. - The big boys had settled themselves in a back corner side by side, a situation too favorable for mischief. He asked them to take other seats. They complied sullenly and with hesitation. He looked over books, organized the school in classes and started one of them on It3 way. It was the primer class, including a half dozen very small boys and girls. They shouted each word in the reading lesson, labored in silence with another and gave voice 'again with unabated energy. In their pursuit of learning they bayed like hounds. Their work began upon this ancient and informing legend. written to indicate the shout and skip of the youthful student: The sun is up and it Is dayday? day. "You're afraid," the teacher began after a little. "Come up here close to me." They came to his chair and stood about him. Some were confident; others hung back suspicious and untamed. "We're going to be friends," said he In a low, gentle voice. He took from his pocket a lot of cards and gave one to each. "Here's a story," he continued. "See; I put It in plain print for you with pen and ink. It's all about a bear and a boy, and is in ten parts. Here's the first chapter. Take it home with you tonight" He stopped suddenly. He had turned in his chair and could see none of the boys. He did not move, but slowly took off a pair of glasses he had been wearing. "Joe Beach," said he coolly, "come out here on the floor." There was a moment of dead silence. That big youth, the terror of Linley school, was now red and dumb with amazement. His deviltry had begun, but how had the teacher seen it with his back turned? "I'll think it over," said the boy sullenly. The teacher laid down his book calmly, walked to the seat of the young rebel, took him by the collar and the back of the neck, tore him out of the The teacher tore him out of the place. aIong and 8tood Wm to waI1 with a bang that shook the windows. There was no halting it was all over in half a minute. "You'll please remain there," said he coolly, "until I tell you to sit down." He turned his back on the bully, walked slowly to his chair and opened his book again. 'Take It home with you tonight' said be. continuing his talk, to thi He dismissed the primer readers, calling the first class In geography. As they took their places he repaired the broken seat a part of which had been torn off the nails. The fallen rebel stood leaning, his back to the school. He had expected help, but the reserve force had failed him. "Joe Beach, you may take your seat," said the teacher In a kind of parenthetical tone. Geography starts at home," he con beglnDl toe recitation. "Who can te me whefe the gchool. oousey

A dozen hands went up. "You tell," said he to one. "It's here," was the answer. "Where's here?" A boy looked thoughtful. " "Nex t Joe Linleys cow pasturV he ventured presently. , "Will you tell us V the teacher asked, looking at a bright eyed girl. "In Faraway, N. Y.," said she glibly. "Tom Liniev. I'll taie that" said the

teacher In a lazy tone, tie was loosing down at his book. Where he sat facing the class, he could see none of the boys without turning. But be had not turned. To the wonder of all. up be spoke as Tom Linley was handing a slip of paper to Joe Beach. There was a little pause. The young man hesitated, rose and walked nervously down the aisle. "Thank you." said the teacher as ha took the message and flung It on the fire unread. "Faraway, N. Y.." he continued on his way to the blackboard as if nothing had happened. He drew a circle. Indicating the four

points of the compass on it Then hej mapped the town of Faraway and oth- j crs. east west north and south of It So he made a map of the county and -bade them copy it. Around the county j In succeeding lessons he built a map of the state. Others in the middle group were added, the structure growing day by day until they had mapped the hemisphere. ' At the Linley schoolhouse something had happened. Cunning no sooner showed its bead than it was bruised like a serpent, brawny muscles had ; been easily outdone, boldness had! grown timid, conceit had begun to ebb. j A serious look had settled upon all; faces. Every scholar had learned one thing, learned it well and quickly it was to be no playroom. There was a recess of one hour at noon. All went for their dinner pails and sat quietly, eating bread and butter, followed by doughnuts, apples and pie. The young men had walked to the road. Nothing had been said. They drew near each other. Tom Linley looked up at Joe Beach. In ftls face one might have seen a cloud of sympathy that bad its silver lining of amusement "Powerful?" Tom Inquired soberly. "What?" said Joe. "Powerful?" Tom repeated. "Powerful! Jlminy crimps!" said Joa significantly. "Why didn't ye kick him?" "Kick him?" "Yes." "Kick h'm?" "Kick him." "Huh dunno!" said Joe, with a look of sadness turning into contempt "Scairt?" the other Inquired. "Scairt? Na-a-w," said Joe scornfully. "What was ye, then?" "Parr'lyzed seems so." There was an outbreak of laughter. "You was goin t' help," said Joe, addressing Tom Linley. A moment of silence followed. "You was goin t help." the fallen bully repeated, with largo emphasis on the pronoun. "Help?" Tom inquired, sparring for wind, as it were. "Yes, help." "You was licked 'fore I had time. "Didn't dast that's what's the matterdidn't dast" said big Joe, with E tone of Irreparable injury. "Wouldn't 'a' been nigh ye fer a millyun dollars." said Tom soberly "Why not?" "'Twan't safejythat's why." 'Fraid o' him, ye coward? "No; "fraid o you." "Why?" "'Cos if one o yer feet bad hit a feller when ye come up ag'In that wall." Tom answered slowly, "there wouldn't 'a' been nuthin' left uv bim." All laughed loudly. Then there was another silence. Joe broke It after a moment of deep thought 'Like t' know how he seen me," said be. 'Tis cur'us," said another. "Guess he's one o' them preformers like they have at the circus," was the opinion of Sam Beach. "See one take a pig out o his hat las summer." VTaint fair an' square." said Tom Linley; "not jest eggzae'ly." "Gosh! B'lieve I'll run away," said Joe after a pause. "Ain't no fun here for me." "Better not" said Archer Town; "not If ye know when yer well off." "Why not?" "Waal, he'd see ye wherever ye was an do 8uthin" to ye,' said Archer. "Prob'ly he's heard all we been sayin here." "Waal, I ain't said nuthin' I'm 'shamed of," said Sam Beach thoughtfully. A bell rang, and all hurried to the schoolhouse. The afternoon was uneventful. Those rough edged, brawny fellows had become serious. Hope had died in their breasts, and now they looked as if they had come to Its fu neral. They began to examine their j books as one looks at a bitter draft before drinking it In every subject the : teacher took a new way not likely to be hard upon tender feet For each lesson he had a method of his own. j He angled for the interest of the class and caught it With some a term of ; school had been as a long sickness, j lengthened by the medicine of books ! and the surgery of the beech rod. They f had resented it with Ingenious deviltry, j The confusion of the teacher and some ' Incidental fun were its only compensations. The young man gave his best ' thought to the correction of this men tal attitude. Four o'clock came at last i.ne wont or uie oay was over, weary ; with its tension, all sat waiting the teacher's word. For a little be stood j facing them. ; I "Tom Linley and Joe Beach," said he In a low voice, "will you wait a moment after tbe others have gone? School's dismissed." There was a rush of feet and a rattle of dinner pails. 'All were eager to get home with the story of that day save the two it had brought to shame. They sat quietly as the others went away. A deep silence fell In that little room. Of a sudden it had become a lonely place. - The teacher damped tbe fire and put on his overshoes. "Boys," said he. drawing a big silver watch, "hear that watch ticking. It tells the flight of seconds. Ton are eighteen, did ycu say? They turn boys Into oxen here in this country; just a thing of bone and muscle, living to sweat and lift and groan. May

be I can save you. but there's not a

minute to lose. With you It all depends on this term of schooL When it's done you'll either be ox or driver. Flay checkers?" Tom nodded. "I'll come over some evening, and we'll have a game. Good night"

CHAPTER XIV. IIAT first week Sidney Trove went to board at the home of "the two old maids. a stone house on Jericho road, with a front door rusting on Idle hinges and blinds ever drawn. It was a hundred feet or more from the highway, and in summer there were flowers along the path from Its little , gate and vines climbing to the upper windows. In winter Its garden was buried deep tinder the snow. One family the Vaughns came once in awhile to see "the two old maids. Few others eTer saw them save from afar. A dressmaker came once a year and made gowns for them that were carefully bung In closets, but never worn. To many of their neighbors they were as dead as If they had been long In their graves. Tales of their economy, of their odd habits, of their past went over bill and dale to far places. They had never hoarded th toarhor nd were put In panic when the trustee came to speak of It "lie's a grand young man," said hej "good company, and you'll enjoy It" They looked soberly at each other. According to tradition, one was fifty four, the other fifty-five years of age. An exclamation broke from the Hps of one. It sounded like the letter "y,' whispered quickly. "Y!" the other answered. "It might make a match, said Mr Blount the trustee, smiling. "Yl Samuel Blount!" said the younger one, coming near and smiting him playfully on the elbow. "Y'ou stop!" Miss Letltia began laughing silently. They never laughed aloud. "If he didn't murder us," said Mist 8'mantha doubtfully. "Nonsense," said the trustee. Tll answer for him." "Can't tell what men'll do, she persisted weakly. "When I was in Albany with Alma Haskins a man came 'long an' tried to pass the time o' day with us. We jes' looked t'other way , an didn't preten to hear bim. It's awful to think what might 'a' happened." She wiped invisible tears with an embroidered handkerchief . The dear lady had spent a good part of her life f thinking of that narrow escape. "If he wa'n't too particular," said Miss Letitla, who bad been laughing at this maiden fear of her sister. "If he would mind his business we we might take him for one week." said Miss 8'mantha. She glanced inquiringly at her sister. 'Letltia and S'mantha Tower, "the two old maids," had but one near relative, Ezra Tower, a brother, of th same neighborhood. I There were two kinds of people In Faraway, those that Ezra Tower spoke to and those be didn't The latter were of the majority. As a forswearer of communication he was unrivaled. Hla Imagination was a very slaughter bouse. In which all who crossed him were slain. If they were passing be looked the other w.' and never even saw them again. Since the probate of his father's will both sisters were of the number never spoken to. He was a thin, tall, sullen, dry and dusty man. Dressed for church of a Sunday, he looked as If be had been stored a year in some neglected cellar. His broadcloth had a dingy aspect bis hair and beard and eyebrows the hue of a cobweb. He had a voice slow and rusty, a look arid and unfruitful. ' Indeed, It seemed as If the fires of bate and envy had burned bim out. The two old maids, feeling the dis- ' Urace of it and fearing more, ceased to visit their neighbors . or even to pass their own gate. Poor Miss S'mantha fell Into the deadly mire of hypochondria. She often thought herself very ill and sent abroad for every medicine advertised In the county paper. She had ever a faint look and a thin, sickly voice. She bad the man fear a deep distrust of men never ceasing to be on her guard. In girlhood she had been to Albany. - Its splendor and the reckless conduct of one Alma Haskins, companion of her travels, had been ever since a day-long perennial topic of her conversation. Miss Letitla was more amiable. She bad a playful, cheery heart In her, a mincing and precise manner and a sweet voice. What with " the cleaning, dusting and preserving they were ever busy. A fly, driven hither and thither, fell of exhaustion If not disabled with a broom. They were two weeks getting ready fot the teacher. When at last he came that afternoon supper was ready, and they were nearly worn out "Here be is!" one whispered suddenly from a window. Then, with a last poke at her hair. Miss Letltia admitted the teacher. They spoke their greeting In a half whisper and stood near, waiting timidly for his coat and cap. No, thank you, said he, taking to a nail. "I can do my own banging, as the man said when he commjted gaiCide. Miss S'mantha looked suspicious and walked to the other side of the stove. Impressed by the silence of the room, much exaggerated by the ticking of the clock. Sidney Trove sat a moment looking around him. Daylight had begun to grow dim. The table, with its cover of white linen, was a thing to give one joy. A ruby tower of Jelly, a snowy summit of frosted cake, a red pond of preserved berries, a mound of chicken pie and a corduroy marsh of mince, steaming volcanoes new biscuit and a great heap of apple fritters lay In a setting of blue china, j They stood a moment by the stov tbe two sisters both trembling unusual publicity. Miss LfcjJBa had her band upon the teapot. (To be Continued Artificial

ur ixlis

Jfext Sunday.)

20th, Century fuel. 10-tf

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