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 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