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« ' - V ♦ ,r |r w « •urgiarg Vr' I / (Cvpyrlckt.) HE night-walchm»n at iaa> poMCMcd at A dii* sens* of hi* Im portance, was called “Sergeant” Moore, He bad become aware that the distinctive title was one In gen eral vogue with metro* polltan police systems and be was proud of the designation. The day precedlrt Christmas was alw»-« one looked forward to by the doughty sergeant, for It was upon tin t occasion that bis conscience al lowed him to accept little marks of approbation. “Hey, there, sergeant!” generally prefaced the bestowal of something In the shape o' a gift. '“It’s duty I have to attend to all night long,” he told his Wife. “They HE village chimes rang oi -a - mellew amah* dear, ^and vibrant as golden heads dropped Into a crystal dish, but Adam Marsh draw his worn fur cap down oloser about bis ear* and scowllngly took a shortcut towards his desolate home. He. ' had neither chick nor child, only money. He hardened hi* soul against yule- tide suggestions and tried to glory In scouting the humanising Influence of home, social friendship and “the folly called love!” Then he came to a sud den halt and sprang behind a tree. There was a light In the room where he slept. Against the lamp light there was outlined the figure of-a roughly dressed man standing at an open bu reau. Marsh stole to the kitchen, aaele»t-ho98* -pis Is strength to carry back what I took. 1 * “Tah I" Jeered Marsh. “Sort of: rob bing Peter to pay, Paul, hey? Mow then, PH run no risks of your turning on me. Empty your pockets,** and the man disgorged a rusted Jackknife and something that glowed with the glint of gold. ^ “Back to yonder corner,” ordered Marsh rasplngty. - •'What’s this?” and his nimble fingers clutched a, locket and chain the ether had placed on the tablo. -—. . ■' “If hm'f ynnra, nor minor bosot sol tho Intruder.' “Say, I must take that back where It belengs. Listen to me. It was ten miles down tho road. In. A wretched little hovel. In the front room wee e pale, wearied woman at tending to her sick husband. In a back room was a little angel of a girl e- % i say there's a regular band of burglars on the move." —r- Now two problems of fate were to work out a strange series of circum stances, in the Christmas eve events appertaining to the redoubtable ser geant. The first was that the little town Jail had burned down the week previous. The second was that a new family had moved to town early In De cember. comprising the Waynes—fath er, mother, a charming daughter of seventeen and three young children. As Moore passed their place he noted that It was all dark, the family prob ably absent at some local entertain ment, and be caught the echo of a sound resembling the tipping over of a piece of furniture. Then from an open window a form protruded. “Burglars!” muttered the sergeant, and made a dash for the presumable despoiler. “Hold on!” spoke the latter excited ly. “It’s all right.” “Oh. Is It?” purred Moore derisively. “What’s that?” and he made a grab at the protruding pocket of the young man. “If you’ll allow me to explaffc,” be gan the latter. “I know the people who live here.” “Oh, yes, very particular friends^ Cordially invlied you to break into the house at any hour of the night! And this—a new muffler and a pair of gloves. Say, you come with me,” and the sergeant marched his captive from the spot. ' “If you’ll only let me explain," pleaded the young man, but Moore was deaf, blind to all but duty. Fifteen apd, gliding to the door of the lighted room, burst It in. “What arf you doing here?” he shouted out. “Hands up!” It was rather a weak than an evil face that confronted him. Its owner looked crestfallen, rather than sullen. “I—I was looking for something to eat," he stammered out. “That’s likely outside of the kitch en, isn’t lt,» now!” snarled Marsh derisively. “Well then, fludlng nothing in the kitchen I hoped I could pick up some little trifle that would bring me a meal. Say, I’m not a genuine bad one. I never touched a cent that was not my own until this very day. And thle has so shamed me, that all I ask child, asleep on a torn thin blanket I noticed the chain and locket around the child's throat I sneaked up and took It I’ve a wife and two litAe tots in the city; lost my Job and vras tramping, looking for work. I was frantic aa I thought of their wretched nrledavt; the trinket and steal a ride home on the bumpers. Don’t shoot!” for Marsh, opening the locket and scan ning the portrait within shook from head to foot, and with glaring eyes viewed the locket as though It were some bofilng wraith. Ah t how it recalled to him the bright, sunny-faced daughter he had •hut out from heart and home the day she eloped with Rodney Blair. He had never sought to learn of her fate. And now the locket she had worn he had strangely fouud, cherished and protected by her little child with his picture still In it “My man,” he said, “if you will take me to where you found the people yon tell of, yonr dear ones shall have e Christmas, Indeed.” “I’ll dp that for nothing," half sobfted the penitent fellow. Little Cora Blair was sobbing In her mother’s arms as Adam Marsh reached the.doorstep of the home of the unfortunates. He heard her say: “Oh, mamma, can’t we search for my pretty locket? Every night when 1 say my prayers and ask a blessing tor the dear’grandfather I have neVer I shall falsa seeing hi* rictmre." “Merry Christmas and—forgive- 1“ spoke Adam Matsh^ pushing the door open. “Alice, I’ve come te (bake up for my cruelty and neglech" And when the penitent had faithful ly returned from the village store* with a heaping basket full of Christ mas chew and gifts for tho little oop Marsh had ordered, he started for the fcity with a warm, snug roll oi hank notea -hi his hand.' . “Mew far my ewu limut IBfl Hg Merry Christmas of my dear ones!” ho jubllatod. “Oh, d) never stray Away from the straight path and them again,” and la a wild ecstasy he sang la socord with the chiming bells: “Peace oc earth and good will t» wards aU meal” 30 YEARS EXPERIENCE IN FITTING GLASSES E. B. GARVIN - OPTOMETRIST Office Hours: 8:30 a. m. to 12:50 f.m. 1:50 p. m. to 6 p. u Office Coinmeroial Bank Building 1 Some Tune You will be in need d printing of some kind. 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GROVE'S shiMture on the box. 90c. minutes later the captive found him self locked into a stone cellar, and the sergeant handed its key to his wife, saying: “You might pass in a jug of water and a plate of bread to my catch through the window; It’s got no sash to it. I’ll drop around again soon.” The young man In retirement was pacing about In the dark and anathe matizing his officious captor when Mrs. Moore timidly approached the window. . “Here’s some water and a little food,” she said, “so you won’t suffer," and just as shs passed the things In she uttered a shriek and crouched down trembling. Two men had sud denly appeared, real burglars this time. “Oh, sir!” whispered the woman through the pellar window, “they may kill the children I And then there’s all Tim’s half yearly pay in the bureau! Please help me. Here’s the key to the cellar door,” and something tinkled on the floor. Something else then tran spired. The released captive located and knocked down and tied hand and foot the prowler within the house. Then coming unawares upon the armed bandit outside he toppled him over, rendered him helpless, and seemed to enjoy the excitement of it all. “I am Rcscoe Walden and I am en gaged to Ethel Wayne.” he explained an hour later to the bewildered ser geant after the latter bird transferred the two criminals to limbo. “This is the first time I have visited their new home, and I got in surreptitiously to place a present on the Christmas tree as a surprise to my'lady love. I don't • want the Waynes lo know I am in Plympton until after she finds It.” There was a rare spice of adventur ous excitement for pretty Ethel In her devoted lover's unique experience whe^ he recited the same the next morn ing. And meantime Sergeant Moore was gaining popularity and the com munity's good will by detailing his heroic act which had signalized Christ mas eve In the apprehension of two deape::*.t<? criminals who. hut for him, might hnv?. had thfc tut h* tew* At tfeetr nercy. These Tires Are a Revelation The Brunswick is frankly a combination of the best in tire building. There is one tread that’s supreme beyond question. And that is now on Brunswicks. There is one side-wall construction, which, by every test, holds the summit place for endurance. And that one was adopted for Brunswicks. Fabrics differ — up to 30 per cent —? in their strength tests. On Brunswicks the maximum long-fiber is the standard. There are certain additions, each one expensive, which add vastly to -tire mileage. The Brunswick embodies all these extras. There are no patents, no secret formulas to prevent any maker from building the best. It is simply a question of krowfcdge And skill—cost plus care. 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