Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, February 28, 1900, Image 1
T: ISSUED SEMI-WEEgL^^ ^
x,. m. grist & sons, Publishers. j %. ^[amilj JteKsgnper: 4?r the promotion nfl the political, social, gflriculturat, and (Eommercial^Jnt^resfs nf the people. {]^ 2sS^WTO?m5?!*eg'
ESTABLISHED 1855. YORKVILLE. S. C., WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 28, 1900. . . NO. 17.
mm
BY JEANNETTE 1
Copyright, 1899, by Jeannette H. Walworth
CHAPTER II. | I
THE MISSING PAPERS. '
The next morning Miss Malvina?
"fence angling." as she contemptuous- *
ly called her own efforts to keep up c
with local happenings?saw coining to- '
ward her from the Mandeville direction
something almost too bright arul 1
vivid for that somber day of sorrow. 6
It was a smart little basket phaeton, s
drawn by two satin coated ponies. The '
morning sun. shining through the 1
clouds of dust that rose in the wake '
of eight swiftly pattering hoofs, con 4
verted it into golden hued mists surrounding
the swift revolving wheels of
the chariot. Miss Malvina gave a little
gasp.
"Elijah's chariot must have looked
Just that-a-way"?Miss Malvina's art
conceptions were drawn largely from
chromos. it Is to be feared?"only," she
modified. "Elijah's chariot wasn't harnessed
to two satin coated ponies nor
driven by an extremely pretty girl in
a saucy sailor bat and a mannish shirt
waist Looks like she had monopolized
all the sunshine there was to
spare. Our Heavenly Father is mighty
good to some folks."
She for whom such celestial partiality
was claimed was Miss Olivia Matthews.
She certainly made a very vivid
spot of color on the dun landscape as
she bore rapidly down upon the patient
figure at the gate.
Her yellow hair tloated away from
ber white banded sailor hat in burnished
beauty. She occupied the driver's
seat in her tiny phaeton and guided
the chestnut ponies that were harnessed
to it with a spirited grace quite beyond
her years. She was only 14.
By ber side, with bis long legs drawn
well up to accommodate his dimensions
to those of the phaeton, sat Lawwam
o ftlinn-c [)
jci muuuv ?? o.
When the flashing little turnout had h
wheeled fairly Into her line of vision, h
Miss Malviua muttered her disap- j:
proval. d
"Goodness gracious me! They do look P
dreadfully gay for going to the bouse
of mourning!" ^
But when the satin coated ponies. n
with their jingliug harness, came v
abreast of the gate, she discovered a u
compensating gloom in the lawyer's r'
face. Its profound solemnity mollified d
her to a degree. S
As for Olivia, she was always vivid. n
One must needs have shorn her yellow c
mane and robbed her laughing lips of 11
their cherry ripe redness and her eyes ^
of the sparkle that made one think of
sunlight on dancing waters to have re- c
duced her to that somberness of aspect
considered the fitting thing for such b
occasions. Of course they were on their
way to the Hall
* r\
Seeing they were going to stop. Miss ^
Malvina opened her front gate and ad- ?
vanced as far as the horse block, talking
as she went
"Good morning to you both. My. but a
don't the sun shine just too bright to- ^
day! I was on the lookout for somebody ^
to tell me?something." she concluded a
vaguely. e'
"We are on our way to the Hall
now," said Olivia, utilizing the halt to
fling her yellow mane back over her ^
shoulders. "Reuben, stupid old thing. 1
broke papa's buggy last uiglit. and so 1
I had to bring him over." She leaned
back, laughing, to give Miss Malvina a
better view of her companions. "Poor
darling! The phaeton does not fit him 1
very well, does it?"
"I stopped." said the lawyer, with
unsmiling dignity, "to ask if by chance
you discovered any papers near your s'
gate this morning?"
"Papers?"
"Yes. in a long official envelope, un- '
addressed. I thought they might have
fallen out of my bag last night when
It struck the ground." !.
Miss Mahina gazed speculatively
over an area of several rods of leaf 0
strewn earth. "The tag certainly was
open, for I distinctly remember clasping
It as I picked it up. but if any pa- c
pers fell out 1 didn't see them then,
and the hard wind that blew last night ^
would have carried theui away by this
time." ^
Mr. Matthews had got out of the ^
phaeton and was going slowly over ^
the erround with it is head bent. lie .
stirred the leaf heap with his umbrella u
as he searched. "
"It is possible that 1 did not bring *
them away from Broxton Hall, but
barely possible."
A sow with a large family of newborn
pigs was contentedly reposing on v
the autumn leaves that tilled the nearest
fence corner. The lawyer prodded E
her mercilessly with the ferrule of his c
umbrella. She got up with an iudignant
grunt and waddled sullenly t
across the road, followed by her 1
squealing progeny. But nothing cauie
of her ejectment. There was only an v
lnnoceut pile of autumn leaves pressed 8
into a compact mass under her bulky S
body.
On all occasions Miss Olivia Mat- 8
thews' patience was easily exhausted. 11
It gave way with explosive sudden- f
ness. d
"Oh. papa, come on' You will tind
those stupid papers in Mr. Braxton's C
study, just where you left them. I E
am sure of it." d
"Perhaps so. my dear. It is possl- t
ble. but by uo means sure. 1 am com- ti
lug. One moment longer, if you please. 1
ray dear." a
A hollow stump near by suggested II
a possible lurking place, lie walked >'
briskly toward it. Ollie was getting v
Impatient. That spurred his steps. He q
is A WAT.
3. WALWORTH.
i.
ivas Ollie's abject slave, fie came
>ack to the phaeton empty handed.
"I do hope." said Miss Mnlviua. In
llscreetly anxious, "that it is nothing
>f importance to Torn Broxton that is
ost."
The lawyer was climbing back Into
he phaeton. He carefully adjusted his
mperfluous length to its requirements
tnd drew the gay lap robe over his
ong legs before noticing this impertltent
"hope." He looked stonily at
diss Malvina over Ollie's goldeu head
o say coldly: "Your anxiety is natural.
Miss Malvlna opened her tront gote. 1
ut uncalled for. Mr. Broxton has left 1
is son's Interests exclusively in toy
ands. He knew me long enough to J
udge whether or not he was safe In
oing so. We will drive ou now, if you '
lease, Olivia, niy dear."
Olivia nodded her pretty bead at Miss 1
lalvina. "I'll he hack for you iu '20 1
llnutes. Miss Mally. so you he ready. '
ly ponies dou't like standing still any
tore than 1 do Dou't mind pupa's
jde snub. He's as cross as a bear to- '
ay." And with a pay little laugh she 1
ave a slight shake of the scarlet !
elns. tightened her hold upon them. 1
hirruped musical encouragement to
er little thoroughbreds and was off. 1
'he flashing equipage disappeared
roin .Miss Malviua's view in a fresh '
loud of goldeu dust.
She went hurriedly back into the 1
ouse aud straightway bawled her In- '
oriuatiou at her mother.
"1 am going up to the Hall, mother,
illie Matthews is to drive back for me.
he'll be here in 20 minutes."
"Goiug to drive back for you7"
"Yes She's a kind little body. She
nd her father have Just goue up to the
tall. They stopped at the gate. Mr. i
latthews wanted to know if I found I
ny papers ou the ground wheu 1 picki
up his bag."
"And did you?"
"No. mother. I told him that if any
apers lind fallen out the wind would
ave blown them away before uiornlg.
You dou't uiiml my going to the
iineral. do you. mother?"
"Of course not. It's your duty to go
waut to hear all about it. It ought to
ptch a big crowd to the old bouse,
iroxton was the salt of the earth,
'here's none like him left."
"You won't he by yourself entirely."
aid Maivina cheerfully. "Jimmy Mar- 1
In is working on the fence and mend- '
ig the bean arbor today. I'll tell him '
a look in on yon once or twice to see
' you need anything while I'm gone."
"That's all right: that's all right. 1
'm not au infant in arms. Malvina. (
)id Matthews seem very much put '
ut about those papers he lost?"
"He did not say so. but when 1 said !
hoped it was not anything that con- 1
erned Tom he as good as told me to '
lind my own business."
"M-m-m-m-m-m! Just like his itnpu- I
ence. He's forgotten the time when
ou were the minister's daughter."
Then Miss Malvina began preparing
or the great event of her absence.
Jie put a bowl of cold tea on the winow
sill within easy reach of her *
mother's big chair, rushed out into
lie garden to give Jimmy Martin his
nal orders and had good five minutes
?ft in which to hurl herself into her
est gown, a brown serge trimmed
rith velvet, and her Sunday bonnet. I
rhich ahvavs made her look nreter- i
inturally smart and distinctly unfa- '
ailiar.
By the time Olivia, on her return I
rip, had made the grand circle aruund
he beech tree, which she called "turn- I
up her ponies around." Miss Malvina
ras standing on the horse block in a <
tate of nervous readiness and effusive '
latitude.
"It was real sweet of you. my dear," <
he said, somewhat jerkily, as the po- <
lies bounded forward, "to come back 1
or me. The walking is so dusty. I
lon't often get such a nice ride."
"No; it's not sweet of me at all." said 1
)Uie. with decision. "You are giving I
ae credit I don't deserve. 1 love to i
[rive my darlings, and I did not want t
o go Into that gloomy old house one
ninute sooner than I was obliged to.
did not want to come to the funeral .
t all. but I was afraid Tom wouldn't t
ike it. Boor, dear Tpin! It will break '
our heart. Miss Mally, to see how 1
vhite and miserable he looks. It has 1
ulte. broken mine. He keeps on moan- 1
tog because He did not get here In
time to hear his father's voice once
more. Oh, 1 could kill ueuben for that
breakdown!"
Miss Malvlna felt that she could
gladl.v help In the execution. "And.
Miss Malvlna. we are going to take
Tom home with us after the funeral.
Papa says I am to cheer him up. I'm
sure I don't know how. I don't see
how anybody in the world can do that,
do you? I know If It was papa who
had been taken and I left alone in the
world I should hate anybody who tried
to talk me Into thinking it didn't matter
much. It wouldn't be any use. But then
I don't suppose girls love their fathers
the same way that hoys do. Father
says he will have to be a father to
Tom now, and I tell him If he isn't just
as good to poor Tom as he Is to me I
shall make him answer for it."
Suddenly the small, clouded face was
illumined by a mischievous smile, and
a sidelong look full of fun was flashed
under Miss Malvina's Sunday bonnet.
"You see, I feel as if I must be a mother
to Tom now, or an aunt, or something
elderly and useful."
Miss Malvlna begged her uot to be
frivolous with such unlifting gravity
that the bright face became overcast
again as, with a hysterical catch in
her voice, Ollie added:
"Oh, what a lovely world this would
be if all our friends would just keep
well and happy and go on living forever
until we are all ready to start tor
the next world In a big family party,
and the sun would shine all the time,
and flowers be in bloom always! Oh,
Miss Vinv. I hate sorrow! I hate to
cry!"
She was doing it copiously, however.
Her dimpling smiles had all heen
drowned, her sparkling eyes grown
dark with the gloom of her crude protest.
Miss Malvina put an arm about
the small, grief shaken figure and
moaned a platitude into the ear nearest
her:
"My love, man is born to trouble as
the sparks fly upward."
The girl shook her off impatiently.
"Oh. what makes vou sav that? The
preacher will be using those very same
words presently. They always do at
funerals. But I'm not a man, not a
spark, and I dou't want to fly upward.
There, now!"
Miss Malvina, feeling vaguely guilty
aud distinctly repentant, lapsed into
silence. She was entirely unequipped i
with weapons of defense against this
original line of argument. "Suppose
we don't reason about it at all, dear, j
but just submit," she said meekly.
"We may as well," said the young i
girl, with a resigned sigh, "as insub- ]
mission neither alters nor softens the |
hideous facts."
But the word "submission" was i
written on one of the unturned leaves
In Olivia Matthews' book of life. It (
meant nothing as yet. They drove the ]
short remaining distance in depressed |
silence?through the shadow of the |
valley of death?the gay little equl- i
page and the vivid girl. i
"Mother" Spillmau, having emptied
her bowl of cold tea. was computing |
the passage of time by her craving i
for food. Surely Malvina could not <
be away much longer. There she was (
"A big letter.1'
aow! The porch floor was creaking,
but the vibrations of the porch floor
were caused by a heavier footfall than
Miss Malvina's.
It was Jimmy Martin, who was
mending the bean arbor that day. He
carefully wiped tbe garden soil off bis
clumsy feet before advancing farther
Into the neat sitting room. It was his
second invasion since Miss Malvina's
departure. "Mother" Spillman greeted
him tartly.
"IIow much work are you likely to
get done prancing in here every minute
or two? 1 hired you to mend the
bean arbor, uot to nurse me, James
Martin."
"This is ouly twicet. missis, and my
word's out. I was to look in on you
occasional. I've found something out
yander that maybe you have lost.
That's what brought me this time."
"What is it?"
"A letter?a long, big letter. Mighty
mussed up it is. though. I'm thinkln
the old sow must have snuted it under
the fence when she was makin up her
bed. I saw a bit of white gieumin
when I went to nail on a now base
board to the fence."
Mrs. Spilluiau put out a withered ,
hand eagerly.
"What's written on the back of it,
James Martin? My eyes are not what
they used to be."
"Nothlri as I can make out for the
Jur-rt. It's just a long, big. thick,
lurty envelope, and it may have beeD ,
there mouths from the looks of it."
"I know. It's mine. (Jive it to me. |
And, James"?the old lady fumbled in
he long pocket of her wrapper?"here's
lialf a dollar. I pay you that for bringing
me this paper and for holding your j
tongue about it. Do you understand?" (
"But. mum"? ,
"1 pay you to hold your tongue, j
James Martin. One word about this
uivelopc, and never another hour's (
work from me will you have. Now get ,
[jack to the bean arbor." And James, j
iuowing the minister's widow to be a
woman of her word, pocketed his half i
dollar and shuffled"back to the bean i
bor.
Long before Miss Malvlna got hon
walking this time, with her brot
6erge held carefully above her dus
shoe tops, her mother had master
the contents of the soiled envelope a
secreted h. between the back of b
chair and Its chintz slip cover, whe
she declared, with a trlumpba
chuckle. It should stay, Matthews or
Matthews. Malvlna or no Malvlna, i]
til she had decided for herself whett
It was for Tom Broxton's good to ha
It found or lost.
CHAPTER III.
WAS IT A GHOST?
"Could ye not watch for me o
hour?"
With a sense of fright and recrean
impelling him, Tom Broxton desert
his bed at a bound, to stand, dazed ai
trembling, amid the familiar surrouc
lngs of his own bedroom.
Had he dreamed the utterance,
had the reproach been whispered in
his slumber dulled ears by voice
mortal or spirit? He passed his hai
rapidly over his bewildered brow ai
tried to pierce the encircling gloc
with startled eyes. Was It a part
bis hallucination that the gloom I
creased as he stood and stared?
A dim, faint radiance seemed to i
cede slowly from him, leaving his chai
ber in the absolute darkness that hi
enshrined it when he retired. Presei
ly everything came back to him?ti
utter weariness that had overtake
him when the minister's monotono
Hrnnlnir nf liia fnfhor's anmmnriai
merits had come to an end; bis sicke
lug sense of the futility of all tl
wordy condolences pressed upon b
shrinking ears; his longing to be aloi
and in utter darkness, alone with h
grief, veiled by friendly darkness; b
turning away with a sense of dism
relief from the neighbor crowded pa
lors and halls, conscious of having pa
the last outward show of respect to tl
only friend the world held for him.
Even Olivia Matthews had been i
unwelcome intruder upon his solitu<
when, with a sweet womanliness tb
quaintly crowned her childish hea
Bbe had followed him up stairs with
motherly injunction about not sleepii
in a draft and had placed on a tab
by his bedside the cup of tea she bt
brought him herself. Ollle was n
much given to serving others, and ev<
in his exquisite anguish Tom realiz<
this unusual element In her hoverir
attitude.
Had he ever shown her the grace <
a word of thanks? He could not rect
lect The awful irrevocableness of b
loss, the terrifying stretch of his coi
panlonless future, had swallowed x
thought for anything else.
A portrait of his father stood on t
easel in one corner of his room. E
had knelt before it as soon as Oil
had left him and communicated the d
3lre of his lonely young heait to the f
ther who had been father, mothe
Bister and brother to him.
"I should like so to carry out yoi
slightest wishes about everything, f
ther, if only you had waited for n
joining. If it is permitted the angels
stoop to poor mortality, guide me sti!
30 that I may not miss the turning
the road that shall finally bring yc
ind me together again."
That had been his last thought b
fore falling into a sleep of utter e:
haustion. It was his first recurrei
sne as he stood pondering his sudde
lwakening. The easel that held his f
ther's portrait was hidden from him t
the tall footboard of his heavy fox
posted bedstead. How long he he
slept he could not compute.
On retiring be had topped his be<
room candle with the extinguisher ar
tiad excluded every ray of light fro:
the moon flooded world by drawir
the heavy brocatelle curtains. His ey
i - it. ?--x a 11 ?hi. it
Dans were noc uuu swoueu wuu u
tears that lay too deep to moisten b
Jry lids.
In the first second of his startle
awakening be did not speculate upc
the dim light that pervaded his larj
room brieiiy nor upon Its gradual wit
Irawal. He was wide awake now ar
?elf reproachful. He had fully meai
Dnly to take a short, needful rest b
fore joining the watchers down stain
He had thrown himself upon his be
tialf dressed. He lighted bis cand
now and passed beyond the hlg
rarveJ footboard. He would look on<
more upon the dear, familiar face fro:
svhich he had drawn strength and h
splration all the days of his short life,
Conscience smote him for a cowar
He had purposely turned himself c
retiring so that he should not see eve
the pointed tips of the easel that he!
the portrait.
Death is very awe inspiring to tt
roung and the lusty. The revolt again
it is natural and strong. It Is only t
we grow older and the prizes we hat
Failed to grasp show their tinsel sic
that we come to think of the gre
Mower and his personal attitude wi
a friendly tolerance born of a sense
the inevitable.
The boys at Andover college wou
have stared and perhaps protested
hear Tom Broxton called a cowar
Among his fellows he was esteem*
rmo wlin u-ns not n nt'nvnkor nf /inn
rels, but quite incapable of quailing
the face of danger.
And yet with his first glance towai
the easel that held his father's portni
he recoiled with au audible cry of te
ror, but only for a second. Then I
advanced resolutely toward it.
The easel was not as it had been win
he fell asleep. Drooping over tl
broad, calm brow of the pictured fa<
it held was a bunch of white cosnx
flowers precariously clinging to tl
frame of the portrait by a twisted ste
or two. Tom touched the flowers wil
a skeptic finger. Were they real or
part of his troubled fancy? They fc
to the floor at his touch, and fro
about the green stems a twisted papi
uncoiled in their descent. He stoopc
and picked the paper up.
Some one of his many kindly inte:
tloned friends had stolen in with tlo\
^ 1 / ^ ^
of Bis mother's Bible was open. ro<
ad ers and more empty words of condo- I
nd lence, he told himself, and held the pa- wt
per behind his candle. Again that low an
of suppressed cry of terror from the boy's Sa
in- startled lips! wa
Whoever had woven that loosely dei
re~ bound wreath of white cosmos, his nlJ
mother's favorite flower, with which to blc
ad crown his father's brow had wrapped Pai
about it a bit of his father's own hand'ie
writing, a careless, heedless mistake. ani
eD Even as he pondered the mystery of 1
us the cosmos he was greedily reading the of
ed contents of the paper. 1??
n' It was onlv a nacre of an unfinished hir
letter, but the date made it precious. no1
lis The habits of a lifetime had held good de?
ae in the hour of extremity. His father ^iv
lIs never failed to date. Only two nights sbi
1,3 before that letter had been begun?and BU<
a' ended?when the pen had dropped Th
Lr" from a nerveless hand. And yet, even ,n?
i(* as he read, Tom was conscious of a ^lj
perplexing discrepancy. His guardian an<
had said no letter had been written to ^
in him. ^
But thoughts of his guardian were ^0Ij
at violently shoved aside. This letter, P8
unfinished, but priceless?where had it ? 1
a come from? He read and reread it u(*
lg standing there before his father's pic- .
ture, unconsciously crushing the for- 8 (
l(^ gotten cosmos under his feet:
ot "My boy, soon to be my lonely boy, *rt
the last of the Broxtons, I have prayed
^ very earnestly to be permitted to stay .
lg until you reached my bedside, but the
sands are running out of my glass too .
of rapidly. Let me try to write what I
>1" may not be permitted to say.
18 "My son, 1 am leaving you In a
n" perilous condition?young, unformed, Q0(
ip the possessor of accumulating wealth, cqi
which means accumulating temptalD
tlons and responsibilities. *
*e "I have desired for you a practical
1? rnthor than n r>lnaair>nl <arinr?ntlnn I S?
e* anticipated, being a vigorous man and ?ee
a" not burdened with years, that I should ,
!r< be In the flesh when you came to the
time of life demanding a parental In- ne4j
ar terest in your affairs. I have looked
a" forward to many years of good com- ?
radeship with my boy. Heaven has
t0 decreed otherwise. alr
11 "
' "I must condense into a paragraph
ln what I had hoped to distill into your ,,
)U young mind through many years of
happy and loving Intercourse. Use :
e" ycur wealth. Do not let It misuse you. !e
x" Remember that riches take flight often aft
In the most unforeseen fashion. I can
at this time foresee no contingency ?
a* that would reduce you to the estate of
>y a poor man; but, should such a catasir
trophe befall, God grant that your pai
L<* brains and your hands may prove good
substitutes for lands and stocks. Dur- pai
ing your minority your affairs will be ^ai
l(* managed by my lifelong friend, Hor- wp
m ace Matthews, in whose business ca'8
paclty I have great confidence. But no
^ man should yield blindly to the guid- a?(
ie ance of another. Bear in mind that *
is your responsibilities are your own, to
be shouldered, not shirked, to be borne
i(i by no one but yourself.
,n "I desire you on the day of your ma- "a(
>e jorlty to take the management of your w?
b" affairs into your own hands, subject, (
,a of course, to advice from your ex- "lo
guardian. You will owe it to yourself ter
e" to obtain a clear insight into the man- lutl
3- agcment of affairs during your mlnorl- ^n<
:(i ty. No lionest steward will object to cas
'e this accounting. As for your guardian,
ft while I trust him Implicitly?I"?
-e Tom turned the paper over lmpa- *
m tiently. Surely there must be some- me
Q" thing more. Not an added syllable! ^ '
Where had this unfinished letter, so ^8(
<1- precious and so ail important, been am
found? Who had conveyed it to his wa
!n hands? A
'd He had himself searched every draw- &l'?
er and every compartment of his fa- wa
,e ther's desk and found nothing. He had tor,
st questioned Mr. Matthews with queru- the
13 lous insistence, only to be assured by fat
'e him that his father had left nothing ehi
'e for him personally in writing, and yet poi
at here, twisted ruthlessly about the A
111 stems of flowers which came no one rea
?' knew whence, were his father's last, the
most precious utterances of advice and Toi
Id love. and
t0 He folded the piece of twisted paper Ped
d* into projier shape and laid it away in
?d an inner pocket of his waistcoat. The ed
flowers which he had crushed under T
iu his heels sent up a sickly fragrance. A stri
strong gust of wind set his candle the
rd aflare. It guttered and died out sud- S
dt denly, only to add to his sense of shud- the
t Hovinr' isolation. He could have cried bee
je aloud for human companionship, for goo
the sound of a fellow creature's voice, for
m He bethought him of the friendly tha
ie watchers down stairs. frit
re On second thoughts he should not
as like to face his father's faithful friends old
ie with white lips and trembling limbs, ten
m He would quiet his nerves by spending stu<
th a few moments in his father's own loci
a room. Amid its familiar surroundings woi
:11 he could relight his candle and regain am
m his lost self control. He passed through "1
er the connecting door into the larger my
;d room so intimately associated with his owi
beloved dead. hou
n- By the mantelshelf there used to be I si
v- always a supply of matches. That of I
me faint receding radiance puzzled
u as he drew aside the curtains that
parated his own room from his fa?r"8.
Some one must have left a wlnw
open on the balcony. A cold pull
outside air greeted and chilled him
he stepped over the threshold, but
this time he bad himself well In
nd. He found the matches and rehted
his candle.
t was not his first visit to his fa-1
jr's room. He had gone there
aightway on his agonized home comj.
It was there he had wrestled with
i first sharp pangs of his bereave;nt,
kneeling by the bed and clamorl
plteously for one word of recognin
from Its pale and unresponsive
eper.
?e had passed through It since when
had looked decorously desolate, with
* cold, white, tenantless bed and its
nrisnmp fiimlshlnes nrimlv set to
;hts. On neither one of those pre>us
visits had he observed the con[clous
object that now arrested his
:ention immediately on entering the
>m.
lis mother's Bible, the one out of
ilcb be had read his Sunday's task,
unwilling little rebel, many a weary
bbath afternoon at his father's knee,
is propped upon the center table unr
the dimly burning radiance of a
fht taper. It was open. A single
tssom of white cosmos marked the
3sage:
'Put not your trust in princes nor in
y son of man."
le did not reason about the presence
the Bible. He did not cast a second
ik at it. Whether he was to brand
nself everlastingly as a coward did
t cost him one anxious thought He
icended the long spiral stairs that
rided him from human companionip
with feet that seemed to have
idenly grown old and very tired,
e distance between him and the llvf
seemed to stretch out intermlnaHe
was at one only with death
1 muntpru
- "v
Vith cowering aspect he crept Into
?long parlor where his father lay In
lely state. One look at the noble,
m face within the casket covered
n with a sense of littleness and contion.
Father, father! To think that 1
)uld know fear In your presence?
a, who had such high scorn for cowllce
and cowards! I am not worthy
be called your son!"
l voice came to him in greeting from
? other end of the long room. It
s old Mr. Braddock, who bad lnsistupon
sitting up with his old friend
fus. He shuffled toward the young
turner now with a face from which
?ry vestige of color had fled. He
3ded nervously toward his three
npanions, who came in a slow proislon
in his rear.
These gentlemen and I have been
ng over the premises, Thomas, to
t if any doors or windows had been
t open. It grew quite chilly sudden'
The old man rubbed his bands
vously about each other.
Quite so." the man nearest his right
ow echoed.
We distinctly felt a cold puff of
," the man on his left added.
Some window open on the veran"
Thomas suggested.
We have made a thorough Inspecq.
We And neither door nor window
t unbolted. But the house is very
ge and very drafty."
The library may have been overked."
'om glanced toward the heavy
miiio nnrtiprps that fell between the
lor and the library. On the other
e of them were the folding doors,
leled with ground glass, which
,-e the soft effectiveness of moonlight
en lights burned on the library side.
Imboldened by the manifest fears of
companions, he drew the curtains
1 fell backward with a low cry.
en indignation smothered his fear.
Some one in the library, standing at
father's desk."
Ie essayed to slide the glass doors
,'kward into their sockets. They
uld not yield.
I locked them myself from the 11iry
side." said Mr. Braddock cbatlngly.
"1 did not want any one to
rude here without our permission or
jwledge." He glanced toward the
iket.
Then we must go around by the
Idle parlor," said Tom curtly.
[e led the way hurriedly. The older
n kept pace with him valiantly,
th their own scandalized eyes they
1 corroborated the boy's startled
lounceinent that his father's desk
s neing tampered wun.
l <lim light showed through the
iund glass doors. A stooping figure
s plainly discernible in front of the
ge table in the center of the study,
table at which Torn had seen his
her sit through what seemed to his
ldish faucy interminable hours of
i work.
, smaller door to the study was
ched by the circuitous passuge of
drawing room suit. It yielded to
m's impatient touch upon its knob
I opened inward?upon a room wrapI
in utter darkness!
Have any of you matches?" he asksharply.
liree matches were respousively
ick against as mauy boot heels, and
room was soon well lighted,
cattered in reckless confusion over
open desk were papers that had
n hastily drawn out from the pinholes
for inspection, by whom and
what purpose were the mysteries
t confronted Thomas :uid his
nds.
i'his passes comprehension." said
man Braddock. with tremulous uttuce
and protuberant eyes. "The
Jy was in perfect order when I
ced that door on this side. Uufus
aid turn in his cofiin at such dis- 1
ly. He was so very orderly."
Some one has been tampering with
father's papers for purposes of his
i. Will you help me search the
se for the miscreant, my friends?
lould like just to discover the place
ngress and egress. After we have
found If we can search the house Inside
thoroughly."
An hour later he stood alone on the
low flight of steps that led down into
his mother's flower garden. The first
gray tints of dawn were resting pallidly
on the trees of the lawn and upon
the tangled riot of blossoms which
sweetened the cold chill air of early
morning. Baffled and humiliated, be
had left his companions in a futile
search to watch by the master of the
house while he wrestled alone with his
perplexity.
The circuit of Broxton Hall had been
made carefully by the four men. Its
lower expanse of broad veranua, pierced
by numerous doors and windows as
capacious, had been found guiltless of
one derelict lock or bolt. Securely fastened
and untampered with, each had
shown itself Intact The upper story
of the rambling old mansion had rer
peated the same story?not the swinging
of a shutter nor the yawning of the
smallest door to admit an intruder!
At the end of the search the mystery
of that crouching figure and disordered
desk was greater than at its beginning.
Weary of conjecture that only confused,
of suggestions that did not suggest.
Tom had withdrawn himself and
now stood drinking In great drafts of
fresh air. It cooled the hot feverlshness
of his body and spirit The
phantasies of the night seemed to quail
and shrivel before the pure, calm radiance
of the morning star that still held
sway in the slowly flushing skies.
Peace came to the boy's troubled
spirit as he stood there accepting healing
at nature's benignant hands. The
night just gone was one he should never
forget, but it had not put him further
away from that noble browed
sleeper, from whose silent lips had
seemed to fall a gentle rebuke for bis
craven nerves. ?
Then the Bun rose above the horizon
in bis chariot of crimson and gold, and
a new day was fairly Installed, the
last day for him to be privileged to
look upon his beloved's face. He was
glad that the unnerved watchers had
availed themselves of the earliest sun
rays to take their departure.
As he stood there alone on the broad
steps of ti.e house, overlooking -the
beautiful expanse of the Broxton lawn,
so he stood alone In all the wide world,
not one creature to call kindred. Small
wonder that he clung with ravening
tenderness to the silent sleeper in the
house behind his back.
He retraced his steps and re-entered
the room where his father lay. He
flung open the windows and moved
resolutely toward the casket The utter
peacefulness, the majestic repose
of the sleeper filled bis soul with a
strange quietness.
At that moment he remembered the .
seal ring which his father had always
Impressed upon the wax of bis letters.
It was on his finger when he died. He
should like it for his very own. He
drew the white draperies from the
broad chest to secure the ring. In the
pallid clasped hands a single white
cosmos flower had drooped to its death.
The seal ring was not upon bis father's
hand. The flower had not been
In his quiet clasp when they laid him
In the casket.
Who would unravel the Knot or tnis
twofold mystery?
TO BE CONTINUED.
BRYAN AND THR TRRATY.
Wat In Favor of Ratification and a Subsequent
Declaration of Purpose.
In the house of representatives last
Thursday, Mr. Grosyenor, of Ohio,
made a speech in which be charged
Mr. Bryan with responsibility for the
Filipino war, on account of Mr. Bryan's
position with reference to the ratification
of the treaty with Spain. Mr.
Bryan was in Atlanta Friday, and the
Atlanta Journal bad an interview.
The following from the interview is
interesting:
'Have you seen General Grosvenor's
statement in the house of representatives
on yesterday ?"
"I have read a brief extract from his
speech. It is true that I favored the
ratification of the treaty; hut I stated
in my interview, published by the Associated
Press on December 14th, four
days after the treaty was signed and
nearly two months before it was ratified,
that in my judgement we should
not only ratify the treaty ; but that
we should declare the nation's purpose
to give the Filipinos independence
? ????? I ho onma tnemo I hot 5 r\/l nrkor?/1nnna
Ujiuii 1 lie onujc 1^1 iuo IIJUI iuu?^euucuvo
was promised to the Cubans. This
opinion was reiterated time and again,
and early in January I wrote an article
for the New York Journal giving my
reasons for believing that it was better
to ratify the treaty and make the fight
upon the resolution declaring the nation's
policy than to make the fight
against the treaty.
"The Bacon resolution made the
promise of independence. It was introduced
more than a month before hostilities
began, and there was a tie vote
in the senate until the vice president
cast the deciding vote and defeated it.
If that resolution had been passed at
the time wheu Senator Bacon introduced
it, there would not have been
Hiiy war in the Philippine islands.
"It is manifestly unfair for Mr. Grosvenor
to charge me with supporting
the treaty without also pointing out
that I favored the resolution promising
independence. The bloodshed iu the
Philippine islands is upon those who
refused to deal with the Filipinos on
American principles. It is cowardly
for the Republicans to attempt to evade
the responsibility. If they favor the
war of conquest, they should have the
coinage to avow it and give their real
reasons for it, namely, that they desire
to give the syndicates a chance to exploit
the island. The thing that surprises
me about Mr. Grosvenor's charge
is that be lays the blame on the Democrats.
Heretofore the Republicans
have laid it on Providence."
A