Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 31, Number 286, 11 November 1906 — Page 9

Pie Nine. By Is-vlrag

Hie Richmond Palladium, Sunday, November 11, 19U5.

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1 r'l

y father," said Dirrel. looking dowt the money. 'Possibly, quite posj, it i3 from thy father."

r'And what shall I do. with the mon-

? It la cursed. I caa make no use it." .;. 'Ah. loy. of one thic.tr be sure. 4 It is t the stolen money.- For many years'

y ratner natn reen a irugai man.

ving, ever saving, the poor fruit of

r ion. av, ooy, ir 11 come o uiy

then have no fear o' that. For a

ae put thy money In the bank."

Then my father lives near me, where

(nay be meeting him every day?"

X) said Darrel, shaking his head, en lif tint? his finger and looking into ycs of Trove he epoke slowly and h deep feeling. "Now that ye know

k will. I warn ye, boy, seek him no

re. Were ye to meet him now an'

ovy him for thy father an' yet refuse let him pass I'd think thee a monster selfish cruelty."

CHAPTER XXII.

rllK rickety stairway seemed to creak with surprise at the , slowness of his feet as Trove

descended. It was circus daj', 1 there were few in the street. Neir looking to the right nor left he

nried to the bank of Hillsborough

1 left his money. Then, mounting mare, he turned to the wooded hill. 1 went away at a swift gallop. ien the village lay far behind them 1 the snn was low bo drew rein to the mare breathe and turned, lookdown the long stairway of hills. sently he could hear a galloping

rse and a faint halloo down the val-

out of which he had just cornev Ho pped, listening, and sobn a man and so, the latter nearly spent with fast wl, came up the pike.

WeJI, by heaven! You gave me a.

rd chase," said the man.

Do you wish to see- me?" Trove in-

red.

Yea. My name Is Spinnel. I am

necteo- with the bank of Ilillsbor;h. Your name Is Trove Sidney

tve?" fr-es. sir." :

ftrou deposited $3,000 today?"

31 did."

Weil, I've come to see you and ask

few questions. I've no authority, you can do as you like about an-

ring."

he man pulled up near Trove and

a notelook and pencil out of his

ket.

irst. how came you by that mon-

" said he, with some show of exment in his manner.

i'bat is my business," said , Trove

('here's more or less truth iu that," the other, "But I'll explain. Night

re last the bunk in Milldani was Kid und the clerk, who slept there,

ly hurt. Now, I've no doubt j'ou're

right, but here's a curious fact the i taken was about 3,tKX."

ove began to change color. Iledis-

mted, looking up at the stranger

holding botn horses by the bit.

ud they think me a thief?" he de-

ded.

No, was the quick reply. "They ve

loubt you can explain everything."

II toll you all I know about the

toy, said Trove. "But come, let s

the horses warm."

icy led them. and. walking slowly,

ve told of his night m the sugar

Something in the manner of

inel slowed his feet and words.

Btory was finished. They stopped, :ing face to face. t'a grossly improbable," Trove sug-

ed thoughtfully.

Well, It ain't the kind o thing that

ens every day or two," said the r. "If you're innocent, you wont 1 my looking you over a little to if you have wounds or weapons, erstauvl. I've no authority, but if wish, I'll do it." lad to have you. - Here's a huntknife and a Hint and some bird , Trove answered as he began to

ty his pockets.

innel examined the hunting knife looked carefully at each pocket.

t'ould you mind taking off vour

e young man removed his coat, vering a email spatter of blood on Lrt sleeve.

acre s no us? go;ug- auv further

this." said the young man imJitly. "Come on home with me, I'll go back with you in the mornrid prove my innocence." ? two mounted their horses and a long way iu silence, is possible," said Trove presently.

t the robber was a man that knew

.nd. being close pressed, planned

vert snspieion."

e that of the stranger, there was

ieep at the little house in Brier

that night. Hut. o.idly, for Mary Theron A lieu it became a night of and lasting memories of their

He sat long with them under the

trees, and for the lirst time they

and felt his strength and were as ren before it.

s all a school," said he calmly. I'm just beginning to study the

of Trouble. It's Tull of rather j ; problems, but I'm not going to

or fail in It,"

I

although tX that hour two responssDie men had already given a bail bond. After dinner Trove, a constable and the attorney rode to Ilobiu's Inn. The news had arrived . before them, but only the two boys and Tunk were at home. The latter stood in front of the static, looking earnestly op the road. "Hello T' said he, gazing curiously at horse and men as they came up to the

door. He seemed to be eying the at- j torney with hopeful anticipation. j "Tunk," said Trove cheerfully, "you have a mournful eye." j Tunk advanced slowly, still gazing, both hands In his trousers pockets. j "Ez Tower just went by." said he,

with suppressed reejing. "bald you was arrested for murder." "I presume you were surprised." "Waal." said he, "Ez ain't said a word before in six months." Tunk opened the horse's mouth and stood a moment peering thoughtfully at his teeth. "Kind of unexpected to be spoke to by Ez Tower." he added, turning his

eyes upon them with the same curious look. The interrogation of Tunk and the two boy3 began immediately. Tlie story of the fowl corroborated, the sugar bush became an object of Investigation. Milldam was ten miles away, and it was quite possible for the young man to have ridden there and back between the hour when Tunk left him and that of sunrise, when he met Mrs. Vaughn at her door. Trove and Tunk Ilosely went with the officers down a lane to the pasture and thence into the wood by a path they followed that night to and from the shanty. They discovered nothing new save one remarkable circumstance that baffled Trove and renewed the waning suspicion of the men of the law. On almost a straight line from bush to barn were tracks of a man that showed plainly where they came out of the grass upon the garden soil. Now, the strange part of it lay in this fact the boots of Sidney Trove exactly fitted the tracks. They followed the foot

prints carefully into the meadow grass and up to the stalk of the muttein. Near the top of It was the abandoned home of the spider and around it were the four snares Trove had observed, now full o. rey. j "Do not disturb the grass here," said j 'iroTe, "and I will prove to you that i fife' tracks were made before the night ;

in question. Do you see the four webs?" "Yes," said the attorney. "The tracks go under them," said Trove, "and must, therefore, have been made before the webs.. I will prove to you that the webs were spun before 2 o'clock of the day before yesterday. At that hour I saw the spinner die. See, her lair is deserted." He broke the stalk of mullein and

the cables of gpider silk that led away from it, and all inspected the empty lair. Then he told of that deadly battle in the grass. "JJut these webs might have been the work of another spider," said the Attorney. "It matters not," Trove insisted, "for the webs were spun at least twelve hours before the crime. One of them contains the body of a red butterfly

with starred Wings. Ye cut the wing3 that day, and Miss Vaughn put them in a book the was reading." Paul brought the wings, which exactly fitted the tiny torso of, the butterfly. They could discern the footprints, one of which had broken the ant's road, .while another was completely covered by the butterfly snare. "Those tracks were made iKiforo the webs, that is evident," said the attorney. "Do you know who made the tracks?" "I do not," was the answer of the young man. j Trove remained at Robin's Inn that night, and after the men had gone he

recalled a circumstance that was lika flash of lightning in the dark of hi great mystery. . Once at the Sign of the Dial hi.--friend the tinker had shown him a pair of new boots. He remembered they were of the same size and shape a? those he vr.rre. "Wo could wear the same boots," he had remarked to Darrel. "Had I to do such penance I should be damned," the tinker had answered. "Look, boy, mine are the larger by far. There's a man coining to see me at the Christmas time, a man o' busy feet. That pair in your hands I bought for him." "Day before yesterday," said Tunk that evening, "I was up in the sugar bush after a bit o hickory, an I see a man there, an' I didn't have no idee who 'twas. He was tall and had white hair an whiskers an a short blue coat. When I first see him he was settin on a log. but 'fore I come nigh he got up an' made off." Although meager, the description was suilicienh Trove had no longer any doubt of this that the stranger he bad seen at Darrel's had been hid-! iug in the bush that day vhose events!

were now so important. i Whoever had brought the money, he

piatrofm, where a aepot was oeing built. "My! What a splendid looking fellow!" said Polly as the stranger passed. Trove had a swift pang of jealousy that moment. Turning, he saw Riley Brooke standing near them in a group of villagers. ,' "I tell you, he's a thief," the boy heard him saying, and the words seemed to blister as they fell, and ever after when he thought of them a great sternness lay . like a shadow on his brow. "I must go." said he, calmly turning to Pclljr. "Let me help you into the wagon." When they were gone he stood a moment thinking. He felt as if he were friendless and alone. "You're a giant today," said a friend, passing him. but Trove made no answer. Roused incomprehensibly, his heavy muscles had become tense, and he had an odd consciousness of their

power, the people were scattering, and he walked slowly down the street. The sun was low. but he thought not of home or where he should spend the night. It was now the third day after his arrest. Since noon he' had been looking for Darrel. but the tinker's door had been locked for days, according to the carpenter who was at work below... For an hour Trove walked, passing up and down before that familiar stairway, in the hope of seoing his friend. Daylight was dim when the tinker stopped by the stairs and began to feel for his key. The young man was quickly at the side of Darrel. . , "God be praised!" said 'the latter. "Here Is the old Dial an' the strong an noble Trove. I heard o' thy trouble, boy, far of on the post; road, an" I have made haste to come to thee." - CHAPTER XXIV.

no outcry, an see you repeat the words carefully as I speak them or you go home in tar and feathers." They could hear the sound of a scuffle and shortly the phrases of a prayer spoken by one voice and repeated by another. They were far back in the gloom, but could hear fsfch Word of that which follows: "O God. forgive me I am a liar and a hypocrite I have the tongue

round shadow or itobm's lun tLiey oegnn to hasten their steps. They could see Polly reading a book under the big tree. "What ho. the little queen." said Darrel as they came near. "Now, put upon her brow 'aa odcroua cTi.2pIet o sweet summer buds.' " She came to meet them in a pretty pink dress and slippers and white stockings. "Fair lady, I bring thee flowers."

"I rave nne everything to p;e::se him." said Polly in broken words, her face covered with her handkerchief. "1 wondered what was the matter with yoa, Polly," said her mother tenderly. '

, "Dear, dear child!" said the tinker. ; me. Do yon carry a gun? rising and pitting her head.! "The j "I do not. sor."

io you se tnat scan- ne'neart Tilly s-jylng. - "I do, sor." "WelL a man snot tne there. "An what for?" the tinker inquired

"I was telling him a story. It cured

chaplet on thy brow an thee weep

incr. fairest Cower of alii" " j "I have wished that I was dead!" !

The

said Darrel. handing her a bouquet. ! tween sobs

words came Ju a little moan be-

"Down to your knees, man." or. seanaal ana aeceit i nave toddou thepoor I hare "defamed the good and, Lord, I am sick with the rottenness of my own heart. And hereaf terI wii cheat no iflore and speak no evil of any one. Amen." "Now go to your home, Riley

Brooke," said the voice, "an hereafter I

minfl'$our4ongue or you shall ride a rail in'tar'ahd" feathers." They could see the crowd scatter,

"They are from the great gardeu o j the flelds." j ".And I bring a crown," said Trove S3 he kissed her and put a wreath of i clover and wild roses on her brow. j "I thought something dreadful had 5 happened." said Polly, with tears, ia ' her eyes. "For three days I've beea I dressed up waiting." "An a grand-dress it is." paid Dar- j

rel, surveying her pretty figure.

Because love hath led thee to the

great river o tears? Nay, child: 'tis a win ling river an crosses all the roads." He had takn her handkerchief and with a tender touch dried her eyes. "Now f can see thee smiling, an' thy lashes, child they are like the spray o" the fern tip when the dew is on it." Polly roe and went, away into the horse. Darrel wiped his eyes, and the widow sat. her chin' upon her baud,

"I've caarly worn it out waiting." f looking down sadly and thoughtfully.

TTROVJ;: had been reciting the his-' and some passed near them, running

4 Tory or nis irouoie ana nau awaj-muie uauum

finished with bitter words. "Shsune on thee, boy," said

the tinkar as, Trove sat, before him with tears pf anger in his eyes. "Watch yonder pendulum and say not a word until it has ticked forty times. For what are thy learning an' thy mighty thews if they do not bear thee up iu time o trouble? Now is thy trial come before the Judse of all. Up wiUi thy head, boy, an be acquitted o' weakness an fear an evil passion." "We deserve better of "him," said Trove, speaking of Riley Brooke. When all others hated him we were kind to the old sinner, and it has done him no good." "Ah, but has it done thee good?

There's the question," said Darrel, his hand upon the boy's arm. ' "I believe it has,"" said Trove, with a look of surprise. "It was thee I thought of, boy. I had never much thought o him." That moment Trove saw farther into the depth of Darrel's heart than ever before. It startled him. Surely here was a man that passed all understanding. Darrel crossed to his bench and began to wind the clocks. "Put away thy unhappiness," said he gently. "No harm. shall come to thee. 'Tis only a passing cloud." "You're right, and . I'm not going to be a fool." said Trove. "It has brought mo one item of good fortune." "An' that is?"

"I have discovered who la my father." "An' know ye where he ia now?" the tinker inquired. "No; but I know it is he to whom you gave the Loot3 at Christmas time." "Hush, boy," said Darrel in a whis

per, his hand raised. lie crossed to the bench, returning quickly and drawing his chair in front of the young man. "Once upon a time," he whispered, sitting down and touching the palm of his open hand with the index finger of the other, "a youth held in his hand a cup, rare an' costly, an' it was full o' happiness, an' ho was tempted to drink. 'Ho, there, me j-outh, said one who saw him, that is the happiness of another.' But he tasted the cup, an' it was bitter, an he let it fall, an,fthe other lost his great possession. Now, that bitter taste was ever on the

tongue o the j-outh, so that his own : cup had always the flavor o woe." j f The tinker paused a moment, look- ! iug sternly into the face of the young '

man. "I adjure thee. boy. touch not the cup of another's happiness, or it may imbitter thy tongue. But if thou be foolish on' take it up. mind ye do not

drop it." j "I shali be careful I shall neither ! taste nor drop it." said Trove. j "God bless thee, boy! Thou'rt jtome ! to a great law who drains the cup of j another's happiness shall find It bitter, ; but who drains the cup of another's : bitterness shall rind it sweet."

' Stoop there an' say not a word."

the tinker whispered, crouching in the grass. When all were out of hearing they started for the little shop. "Hereafter," said Darrel as they walked along, "God send he be more careful with the happiness of other men. I &0 assure thee, boy, it is bitter, bitter, bitter!" CHAPTER XXV. "THROVE had much to help him If youth, a cheerful temperament, Jj a counselor of unfailing wis- . dom. Long after they were gone he recalled, the sadness and worry of those " days with satisfaction, for thereafter the shock of trouble was never able to surprise and overthrow him. After due examination he had been kept in bail to await the action of the grand jury, soon to meet. Now. there were none thought him guilty save one or two afflicted with the evil tongue. It seemed to him a dead issue and gave him no worry. One thing, however, preyed upon his peace the knowledge that his father was a thief. A conviction was ever boring in upon him that he had no right to love Polly. A base injustice it would be, he thought, to marry her without telling what he

had no right to teil. But he was ever hoping for some word of his father

news that might set him free. He had j

planned to visit Polly, and on a cer-

said she, looking down, her voice trembling. "Tut. tut, girl 'tis a lovely dress." th tinker insisted. It i3 one my mother wore when she was a girl," said Polly proudly. "It was made over." "O-ph, God love thee, child!" said the tinker in a tone of great admiration. " Tis beautiful." .

VAud you came through the woods?" j said Polly. j

through wood and held," was Trove's answer. . .'I wonder you knew the way." "The little god o' love, he shot his arrows, an we followed them as the hunter follows the bee." said Darrel. "It was nice of you to bring the flowers," said Polly. "They are beautiful." "Iut not like those in thy cheeks. dea child. Where is the, good mother?" said Darrel. "She and the boys are gone a-berry-Ing," and I have been making jelly. We're going to have a party tonight

for your birthday." "'An rie up before the hoary head an' honor the face o' the old man "

Darrel was tirst to speak. "Did it ever occur to ye, Martha Vaughn, this child o thine is near a

seen nothing

the

"Fair lady, I briny thee flowers." said Darrel thoughtfully. "But. child, honor is not for them that tinker clacks." " 'Honor aud fame from no condition rise,' " said Polly, who sat in a chair knitting. "True, dear girl. Thy lips are sweet-

tain day Darrel was to 'meet him at; cr tiian ine PCI s u'gnt. Robin's Inn. The young man waited t "You'll turn my head." The girl was in some doubt of his duty, and that , laughing as she spoke. day came, one of the late summer,! "An it turn to me, I shall be happy," when he and Darrel went afoot to the ' said the tinker, smiling, and then he

Inn, crossing hill and vallcj as the crow flies, stopping here and there at isles of shadow in a hot amber sea of light. They sat long to hear the droning in the stubble and let their thought drift slowly as the ship becalmed.

began to feci the buttons on his waistcoat. "Lover me, loves me not, loves me, loves me not' "She loves you." said Polly, with a smile. "She loves me hear that, boy!" said

"Some days," said Darrel, "the soul j the tinker. "Ah, were she not bespoke! in me is like a toy skiff, tossing in the j Well. God be praised, I'm happy," he

ripples of a duck pond an' mayhap stranding on a reed or lily. An' then," he added, with kindling eye and voice, "she is a great ship, her sails league long an' high, her masthead raking the stars, her hull in the infinite sea." "Well," said Trove, sighing, "I'm still in the ripples of the duck pond." "An see they do not swamp thee," said Darrel. with a smile that seemed to say, "Poor weakling, your trouble

is only as the ripples of a tiuy pool." They went on slowly, over green pas- j tures, halting at a brook iu the woods, j There again they rested in a cool shade of pines. Darrel lighting his pipe. "I envy thee, boy," said the tinker, !

"entering on thy ide work in this great land a country blest o' God. To thee all high things are possible. Where I was "born, let a poor lad have great hope in him, an all aye, all even those he loved, rose up to cry him down. Here in this land all cheer an' bid him. godspeed. An here is to be the

great theater o' the world's action. Marr of li"-h hon ;i I, -,,1 cirtii

A silence followed, in which Trove J ghall come nu- hcro they 11 do their

CHAPTER XXIII.

hROVE and the bank official

were in Hillsborough soon after , sunrise the morning of that j memorable day. The young i rapped loudly on the broad door j i Sign of the Dial, bat within all ; iient. The day before Darrel had I

must have known much of the plans and habits of the young man, and, the( night before Trove's arrival at Robin's Inn, he came probably to the sugar woods, where he spent the next day in hiding. The young man was deeply troubled. Polly and her mother sat well into the night with him, hearing the, story of his life, which he told ia full, saving only the sin of his father. Of that he , had neither the right nor the heart to,! tell. j "God only knows what ia the next '

auit have started. A lonelv feel-! chapter," said he at last. "It may rob

me of all that I love in this worrd." "But not of me," said Polly, whispering in his ear. "I wish I were sure of that," he answered.

ame into the boy's heart as he

d away, lie went promptly to

u e of the district attorney find :11 he knew cf the money that he ut in The bank. lie recounted all

took place the afternoon of his

tt Robin's Inn the battles of the . and the sp.lder. and how the led fowl had probably sprinkled Levo with. biood. ;- ... ... . . , .

half an hour news nf the youug

k trouble had gone to every house

village. Soon a score of his

Imates and half the faculty were

side there In the rom of jns-

Theron Aijeu arrived at i) o'clock.

. Among those who got off the train at llillsborws'i -one day- was a b!g. handsome youth of some twenty years. In all the crowd there were none had ever seen him before. Dressed in the height of fashion, he was a figure so extraordinary that ail eyes observed him as lie made his way to the tavern. Trove and" Polly "and Mrs.- Vaughn we;e in that curious throng oa the

sat looking at the old man whose words s

were like those of a prophet. "I have

no longer any right to seek my father," he thought. "And, though I meet him face to face, I must let him go his way." Suddenly there came a rap at the door, and when Darrel opened it they saw only a letter L aging to the latch. It contained these words, but no signature: "There'll be a bonfire and some fnn tonight at 12 in the middle of Cook's Held. Messrs. Trove and Darrel are invited." "Curious," said Darrel. "It ha3 the look o' mischief." "Oh. it's only the boys and a bit of skylarking," said Trove. "Let's go and

see what's up. It's near the time." The streets were dark and silent as they, left the shop. They went up a street beyond the village limits and looked off in Cook's field, but saw no light there. While they stood looking a flame rose and spread. Soon they could see figures in the light, and, climbing the fence, they hastened across an open pasture. Coming near, they saw a score of men with masks upon their faces. "Give him the tar and feathers," said a strange voice. "Not if he will confess an seek forgiveness," another answered. "Down to your knees, man. an make

work. An' its spirit shad Spread like the rising waters, aye, it shall flood the world, boy. it shall flood the world." Trove made no reply, but he thought much and deeply of what the tinker said. They lay back awhile on the needle carpet, thinking. They could hear the murmur of tne brook and 'a woodpecker drumming on a dead tree. "Me head is busy as yon woodpecker's," Darrel went on. "It's the soul fire in this great, free garden o' Godit's America. Have ye felt it, boy?" "Yes; it is in your eyes and on your tongue," said Trove. "Ah, boy, 'tis only God's oxygen.

Think o the poor fools withering on cracker barrels in Hillsborough an wearing away 'the lag end o their lewdness.' I lave no patience with the like o' them. I'd rather be a butcher's clerk an' carry with me the redolence o' ham." In Hillsborough, where all spoke of him as an odd man of great learning, there were none, saving Trove and two or three other, that knew the tinker well, for he took no part in the roaring gossip of shop and store. "Hath it ever occurred to thse." said Darrel as they walked along, "that a fool is blind to his folly, a wise man to his wisdom?" ' : When they were through the edge of the wilderness and came out on Cedar bill -and saw below them the sreat

added, filling his pipe. "And seventy," said Polly. "Aye, threescore an' ten small an eloso together, now, as I look off at them, like a flock o pigeons In the sky." "What do you think?" said Tolly as she dropped her knitting. "The two old maids are coming tonight." "The two old maids," said Darrel. " 'Tis a sign an' a wonder." "Oh, a great change has come over them," Tolly went on. "It's all the work o the teacher. Y'ou know he really coaxed them into sliding with him last winter." v4 "I heard of it. The gay rbilander!" said Darrel, laughing merrily. "Ah, he's a wonder with the maidens!" "I know it," said Polly, with a sigh. Trove was idly brushing the mat of srrass with a walking stick. lie loved

fun, but he had no conceit for thi3

kind of banter. "It was one of my best accomplishments." said he. blushing. "I taught them that there was really a world outside their house and that men were not all as lions, seeking whom they might detour." " Soon the widow and her boys came, their pails f ull of berries. "We cannot shake hands with you," said Mrs. VatigLn, her fingers red with the berry stain. "Blood o the old earth!" said Darrel. "How fares the clock?" "It's vo slow. Polly says." "Ah, time lags when love Is on the

way. Darrel answered. "Foolish child! A little while ago she v.r s a baby, an now she is in love." "Ah, let the girl love," said Darrel, patting the red cheek of Polly, "an bless God she loves a worthy lad." "You'd better fix the clock," said Felly, smiling. "It is too fast now." "So Is the beat o' thy heart," Darrel answered, a merry look In his eyes, "an the clock is keening pace." Trove got up, with a laugh, and went away, the boys following. "I'm worried abot:t him," the widow whispered. "For a' long time be hasn't been himself." "It's the trouble, poor lad! Twill soon be over," said Larrel hopefully. There wefe now tears in the eyes of Polly. "I do not think he laves me any more," said rhe, br Iins trembling. "Speak not so, dear child. Indeed he

woman, but has

world;" "1 think of that often," said ebe, the mother's feeling iu her voice. "Well, if I understand him, it's a

point of honor with the boy not to!

pledge her to marriage until she has seen more o life an made sure of her own heart. Now. consider this: Let her go to the school at Hillsborough, an I'll pay the cost." -t The widow looked up at him without speaking. "I'm an old man near the end o' the journey, an ye've known me many years," Darrel went oa. "There's nothing can be said against it. Nay; I'll have no thanks. 'Would ye thank the money itself, the bits o' paper? No; nor Roderick Darrel,' who in this busi

ness is no more worthy o gratitude. Hush! Who comes?" It was Polly herself in a short red skirt, her arms bare to the elbows. She began to busy herself about the house. "Too bad you took off that pretty dress, Polly," said Trove when helreturned. I She came near and whispered to him. "This," said she, looking down sadly, "is like the one I wore when you first came." "Well, lirst I thought of your arms," said he. "They were so lovely! Then of your eyes and face and gown, but now I think only of the one thingFolly." The girl was happy now and went on with the work, singing, while Trove lent-a hand. . A score of people came up the hill from Pleasant, valley that night. Tunk went after ?the old maids and came with them In".. the chaise at supper time. There were two wagon loads of young

people, and before dusk men and their wives came sauntering up the roadway and in at the little gate. Two or three of the older men wore suits of black broadcloth, the stock and rolling collar relics of "old decency" back in Vermont or Massachusetts or Connecticut. Most were in rough homespun over white shirts with no cuffs or collar. All gathered about Darrel, who sat smoking outside the door. He rose and greeted each one of

the women with a bow and a compliment. The tinker was a man of unfail

ing courtesy, and one thing in him was extremely odd even there In that land ; of pure democracy he treated n scrub- j woman with the same politeness he j would have accorded the finest lady, j

But he was in no sense a flatterer. None that saw him often were long In ignorance of that. His rebuke was even quicker than-his compliment, aa many had reason to know Half an hour before dark the yard was thronged with people. They listened, with smiles or a faint ripple of merry feeling, as he greeted each. "Good evening, Mrs. Beach," he would say. "Ah, the snow is falling on thy head. An the sunlight upon thine, dear girl," he added, taking the hand of the woman's daughter. "An here's Mr. Tilly back from the far west," ho continued. "How fare ye, sor?" "I'm well, but a little too fat," said Thurston Tilly. "Well, sor, unless it make thy heart heavy, be content. "Good evening Mrs. Hooper. That Is a cunning hand with the pies. "Ah, Mrs. Rood, may the mouse never leave thy meal bag with a tear in his

eye. j "Not a gray hair In thy head, Miss ; Tower, nor even a gray thought. I "An' here's Mrs. Barbour. 'Twill!

"Waal, then, I'll tell you about tha mm I work for. Tu'k. who had been outside the door

ia his best clothes, but who. since h put them on. had looked as if he doubted the integrity of his suspenders and would not come ia the house, began to ; laugh loudly. "That man Tunk can see the comedy f in all but himself," was Trove'a thought as he returned with a smile of amusement. Soon Trove and Polly came out and stood by the lilac bush at the gate. "You worry me, Sidney Trove," said she. looking off at the moonlit fields, j Then came a silence full of secret i things like the silences of their first meeting there by the same gate long ago. This one, however, had a vibration that seemed to sting them. : "I am sorry," said be with a sigh, j Another silence in which the heart ! of the girl was feeling for the secret ia

his. You are bo sad, so different; mhm whispered. Polly waited full half a minute fop his answer. Then she touched her eyes with her handkerchief, turned impatiently and went halfway to the door. Darrel caught her hand, drawing hep near him. "Give me thy hand, boy," Bald he to Trove, now on his way to the door. He stood with hia arma around tha two. "Every shadow hath the wings o light." he whispered. "Listen." The house rang with laughter and the music of "Money Music" "Tis the golden bell of happineaa. said he presently. "Go an' ring it. Nay first a kiss." He drew them close together, and they kissed each other's lips and wltht smiling faces went in to join the dance

CHAPTER XXVI.

GAIN the middle of September

and the beginning of the fall term. Trove had gone to hia old lodgings ' at Hillsborough,

and Polly -was boarding in the Tillage for she, too, was now in the uphill road to higher learning. None save Darrel, who gave her the young man's money, knew his , secretthat he was paying her board and tuition, unknown tocher. The thought of it made him most happy, but now seeing her. every day had given him a keener sense of that which had come between them. He sat much In bis room and had little heart for study. It was a cozy room now. His landlady had hung rude pictures on the walls and given him a rag carpet. On the table were pieces of clear quartz and tourmaline and about each window frame odd nests of bird or insect, souvenirs of wood life and

his travel with the drove. There, too, on the table were mementos of that . first day of his teaching, the mirror spectacles with which he had seen at once every corner of the schoolroom,. ; the slung shot and bar of iron he had .taken from the woodsman Leblanc.

uue evening or nis nrsi weeic at Hillsborough that term Darrel came to sit with him awhile. "An' what are these?" sajd the tinker at length, his hand upon the shot and iron. "I do not know." "Dear bov " said DarreL therr

from the kit of a burglar, an howj came they here?" "I took them from Xouis Leblanc, said the young man, who then told of his adventure that night. "Louis Leblanc!" exclaimed DarreL "The scamp an' his family hare cleared out." The tinker turned quickly, his band upon the wrist of the young man. "These things are not for thee to have," he whispered. "Had ye na thought o' the danger?" Trove began to change color. "I can prove how I came by them,4 he stammered.

pered again. "There are Leblanc's wife and daugh ter." "Ah, where are they? There be many would iiko to know." The young man thought a moment. "Well, Tunk Ilosely, there at Mrs, Vaughn's."

"Tnnt Tlocelvr Mela'mpd th tinfrw.

make me sweat to carry me pride now. j .Ull a Jook ' thzt emed to say: "God How goes the battle?" BnA thA An. wom the r.

"The Lord has given me sore affliction," said she. "Nay, dear woman," said the tinker ia that tone so kindly and resistless,

MUiU" 'rri"'-i,i, -i xvf; t s

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11 L

as

T-' i if

He stood tcith hia arms aroun.il the tico, "do not think the Lord Is hitting thee over the ears. It is the law o life. "Good evening, elder. What Is the difference tetween thy work ' an' mine?" "I hadn't thought of that." "Ah. thine is the dial of eternity, mine that o time." And so he greeted all and tat down, filling his pipe. "Now, Weston, out with the merry fiddle." said he, "aa see it gives us happy thoughts." -

save the mark! An' would they be

lieve him, think?" Trove began to look troubled as Dar rel left Llm. "I'll go and drop them in the riYer 1 1 n--. . . 1. 1 1

It was 11 o'clock and the street dark and 'deserted as he left his room. "It is a cowardly thing to do," the young man thought as be walked slowIv. but he could devise no better wav

to get rid of them. In the middle of the big, open bridge he stopped to listen. Hearing only the sound of the falls below. Trove took the odd tools from under his coat and flung them over the raiL He turned then, walking slowly off the bridge and up the main street of Hillsborough. At a corner he stopped to listen. His ear had caught the sound of steps far behind him. He could hear It no longer and went his way with a troubled feeling that robbed. him of rest that night. In a day or two It wore off, and soon he was bold of the bit. as he was wont to say, and racing for the lead in his work. He often walked to school with Polly and went to church with her every Sunday night. There had been not a word of love between them, however, since they came to the village until one evening she said: "I am very unhappy, and I wish I were home.? 'Why?" She was not able to answer Tor a

moment.

"I know I am unworthy of youdlshe

'h5''"-,-od

(To be Continued Next Sjftaay.)

Artificial gas, the 20

Century fuel.

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