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r) K.> 'ffii * f .THE SEASONS Or THE HEART. 1 f fT wo bo blltkt' and warm at heart. II we bo aound and pure within, aorrow ahall abide with ua Longer than dwells the sin; Though autumn tegs the landscape fold. And Though autumn tempests roam, t Our summer is not orer yet — j* We keep the sun at home. Rut U our heart be void and oold, Be sure ho good will tire therein. But sorrow for the sorrow’s sake, And sin because of sin; i rlye r * ' m “He nurse. i the i of the leaf, Aud aye the falling of the snow, .barr And aye the barren, barren earth — Though summer winds do blow. Edward Wilbur Mason, In Youth’s Companion. 3*0«(*******3Me THE RIDDLE OF A LOCK. Ity \V II. LI JAM O. «TOOI>AIt IJ. HERE was upon his face an intense, and even a comba tive look, as he stood in the wind swept piazza, with his hand upon the b e 11 •poll. He seemed about to ring agaiu, when the door opened aud he stepped quickly in, while a graceful form re ceded timidly before him. A pair of moist, dark eyes and a tronbled face were averted from his, and there was • husky tremor in the voice which said to him: “You mustn't eome in, Jeff.” “Madeleine," he bluntly exclaimed, “what does this mean?" “Mr. Lapham! Steve Laphatn!" “Old Jacob Lapham's only your stepfather. He has no authority over you. His son is a fraud! Your mother •” “Oh, Jeff, dear! that is the trouble! They have made her forbid me to speak to you! I cannot disobey her! She is dying! They have almost made her make me promise. Oh, Jeff, dear, I’m almost crazy!” “I should say you were,” he growled, with a fierce light dancing across his face. “It was time for me to eome. Is your mother really so low?" “She may last many days yet; per haps net twenty-four hours. Stephen Lapham isn’t there, but bis father doesn’t leave her for a minute. , I’ve no chance to see her alone. Shd com manded me not to speak to you. 'f “No, she didn’t," said Jeff. /“She oniv repeated something after old Jake Lapham. What she was forceiuto say was no command of hers. Do be reasonable. She has no right lio do it, anyhow; and she really didn t do it. Old Jake did. As for Steve, the joung ” “Don't I know what he is?'* said Madeleine, hysterically. “Didn’t I hear what his father said to him? They didn’t know I heard ” “What did they say?" demanded Jeff, as she hesitated, and he closed the d#or behind him and led her into the parlor as he added: “What did hear? Tell me the whole of it." you “Oh, Jeff, dear," said Madeleine, “Mr. Lapham s»id to Steve that as soon as mother died they would re cord all the deeds, before proving the Mill, and then they would own every dollar of ths property. He said they could make mo do what they pleased then." “What deeds?" he asked, in a firm hot unexcited way/ that seemed to help her. “Deeds that mother made,” she said. “Deeds and things that give them everything there is to give.” “Did you ever sign any papers your self?” asked Jeff, “She couldn’t do it alone." “1 don’t know what they were,” re plied Madeleine. “I signed every paper they had on the table, the night they said she would <.ie before tnoru- f “When was that?” he asked.. ' “More than a month ago," she said; * 'and they put them all into the safe iu the library." “I know where it is,” said Jeff. “It’s your own safe now. It opens with a combination look. You know the numbers, of course, and how to open it?" “No, I don’t," she replied despair ingly. “I never knew how to open it, I don’t know the numbers, and I cau’t tell you. They've kept them a secret. Mother said once that it was the Dec laration of Independence and the days of the week." “Oh!" exclaimed Jeff, with almost n laugh; “that’s a riddle. Is anybody in the library now?” “No,'’ said Madeleine. “Nobody .goes there." JctTs face was uugry and stormy, in spite of his calm, reassuring mauuer, as he strode to the library-door and opened it. The room had a chillv, deserted look, and its grate was empty. A fireproof safe, of medium size, ■stood in one corner, aud iu an in stant the young man was kneeling be fore it. “Ibis is your safe, Madeleine Lane," he said. “May I open it?” “You may, but you can’t,” she re plied; but his hand was ou the knob of the safe-lock, aud her cheeks burned with feverish excitement as she watched the quick, though care ful, turns of his wrist. “Twice this way," she counted. “Thred times that way. Onca around Again—-or was it twice?" You are into the Fifteen All that Just then she heard a faint click, and she saw the door of the safe swing wide open. It was as if a feat of necromancy hid been performed be fore ber eyes. Those of Jeff were searching the interior of the safe. “Here they are!" he exclaimei, as he palled out of a pigeon-hole a package of long-folded, legal-looking documents, and rose to his feet. “Please examine them with me, Made leine.” “This first lot,” he said, turning them over, “are all deeds, of one sort or another, to your own father, two or three to your mother, by which they owned their entire property. All of them are recorded. We have nothing to do with them. I’ll pui ihes back. There! Mow, Madeleine, just look at those! All of them new deeds. Yon and yonr mother to Jacob Lapham. Yon and she did actually sign them all” “I didn't know what I was signing," gasped Madeleine, “But there were witnesses and a notary. ” “Each deed acknowledges a large sum of money actually paid, and here are the mortgages, bonds, notes, that old Jake Lapham paid that money out for." “There never were any mortgages," said Madeleine, “bat those are my own signatures—all of them.” ' ‘They are dated as if they had been signed three years ago," he said; “as soon as you were old enough. It’s a very completely finished piece of rob bery. Hellow! What’s this?" ‘She signed her will that very day,’’ replied Madeleine. “Aunt Wickham find Judge Wickham, and two other gentlemen, came here with Mr. Lap ham, and we were all in mother’s rqom, but none of them knew what was in the will," V ‘Exactly!’’ said Jeff. “How they did work the matter! Here are two wills, made the same day. How oonld they make those stupid witnesses sion twice?” “I heard Mr. Lapham say, ‘Sign here, and sign here,’ ” said Madeleine. “Judge Wickham was leaning over mother and saying something to her.” “He was unsuspecting,” said Jeff. “This is really her will, giving all to you aud making Judge Wickham and Deacon Morris her executors. This other thing gives all to Jacob Lap ham and makes him sole executor, giving you only a life estate. It says a great deal more, but it’s a fraud.” At that moment he was lighting a match and removing the blower from the library-grate. “Oh, Jeff, you dare not!” exclaimed Madeleine, “you must not! What are yon going to do?” “Nothing at all, he said, calmly. “But fire is good for fraud. How well it all burns! There go the deeds, aud the mortgages, and the bonds, and all the notes. The will went up like a flaeh.” “Dear me!" she said; but Jeff was once more investigating the safe. “Madeleine,” he said, “here’s a stack of greenbacks, and it’s your own money. It is right where he can get it. Don’t yon think it ought to be in a safer place?”, “It must be mine!" she exclaimed. “It can’t bo his! He hasn’t anything. He meant to steal it, surely!” “Meant to?” replied Jeff. “Why, he has already skden it aud hidden it here. This is your safe, to be sure, but it isn’t safe enough, going to put your money Compton National Bank, thousand dollars and more, old Jacob Lapham has stolen during several years, except what Steve has wasted; one way or another." “Put it into the bank for me, Jeff,” said Madeleine. “I dare not, and I cannot bear to leave the house.” “I’ll put the will right back where I found it,” he said, as he did so. “They all saw it deposited here?” “Yes," replied Madeleine. “Uncle Wickham aud the witnesses came down aud saw it put away there.” “That’s where they will find it, then, when they come to look for it,” said Jeff, and ho seemed to be worry ing iu a very curious way around the lock of the safe. “There! Tha«Tl do, T guess. Now, Madeleine, I must go." Not many, not very many, seconds later Jeff walked unconcernedly out of the honse, as if nothing extraordin ary had happened. Madeleine, on the other hand, after closing the door be hind him, went slowly and thonght- fnlly upstairs. . # A door at her right opened at that i moment, and a tall, grim-looking i woman stood in it. “How is mother?" asked Madeleine. “Is Mr. Lapham there?” is asleep jnst now,” said the “She has not stirred or spoken.” Madeleine walked past her into the room, and bent above an emaciated form lying upon the bed. The face was placid, but there could be no misunderstanding of the mes sage it conveyed. “Oh, if I oonld bat speak to ber!” thought Madeleine, while her whole frame shook and her own face grew as white as was that upon which she was gazing, and then a faint whisper broke through her lips: “Mother!” A pair of blue eyes opened languid ly, and the nurse now at the window, did not hear as acutely as did Made leine: “My daughter! Kiss me!” So quick, so passionate, so agoniz ingly intense was that meeting at the lips; bat Madeleine could now whis per: “Jeff has beeq here mother. He sent his love to you.” “Give him my love, dear. My son! It is easier to leave yon with him ” Just then the nurse turned sudden ly from the window, and a burly form which had lain upon a sofa near it sprang vigoronsly to its feet and strode to the bedside. “Madeleine Lane! how dare yon? She mast not talk! Have I not for bidden this sort of thing?” “She is my mother, Mr. Lapham, you are not my father,” said Madeleiu*. resolutely. “But I think it best not to speak to her again, just now. If I did think best I should do so." There was a motion of a thin hand on the coverlet, and it was obeyed. Madeleine stooped and kissed her mother, and then glided ont of the sick-room, closely followed by the wrathful face of old Jacob Lapham. As for Jefferson Meredith, his walk to the village had been rapid, and his first visit was made at the bank. His next errand was to a dingily respect able law office. “Judge Wickham,” he said to the white-haired gentleman who wel comed him, “Miss Lane is somehow aware that you and Deacon Morris are executors of her mother’s will It “I had an. idea, from herself, that I was to be one of them ” “And the wishes yon to be ready to act at once. She is not upon good tqrms with old JWke and Steve.” “Ugh!” exclawhed the old lawrev. “Tell her I’ll bj ready.” Perhaps it was as well that Made leine watched at her window, looking toward the village, and that Jeff was not again compelled to ring the door bell, for at the moment when she ad mitted him old Jacob Lapham was in the library. “You take care of the bank-book,” she said, when he had swiftly de tailed his basiness doings. “Don’t stay.” His face had darkened cloudily over what she had herself told him, but it cleared somewhat as he turned away. Even Madeleine did not hear him say to himself, aloud, as he was going down the steps: “Oh, but don’t I wish I could see old Jake aud Steve at work on that safe!” Madeleine reached her room again unobserved, all the more safely be cause her stepfather was crouching before that obstinate fireproof safe, twisting the knob to numbers ■ that he knew, but which the look refused to know anything about. He muttered, too, fieroely, even explosively, and at last he arose, exclaiming: “Well! If I can’t open it, nobody else can. Sometimes those things will work so. I’ve known it happen be fore. At any rate, I’ve got all those things fixed so that the property can’t get away from me. I’m sole executor, and the will jnst nails and clinches the deeds." Madeleine Hnger6d in her room only for a long, deep, silent fit of thinking. At the end of it she arose from her chair with a hard-drawn breath, and once more went over to the sick-room. v The form upon the bed lay very still, but the lofing blue eyes opened as Madeleine.again grasped the thin hand in hers. “I gave your message to Jeff, mother. He sent his love to yon again.” “I wish I could see him. My son!” she whispered. “Say good-by to him for me, dear. Kiss me, Madeleine. There—there—good-by. ” There was a heavy hand upon Mad eleine’s shoulder, as she rose, but she did not turn her fixed gaze from her mother’s face. “What does she mean?” he harsh ly, hoarsely demanded. “Her son?” There was no answer in words, bat even Jacob Lapham turned pale, and the advancing nurse drew back again, while Madeleine sank npon her knees —for they were all suddenly aware that the last messenger had come. For Madeleine Lane all earthly things were veiled and put away. That hour of sobs and silence was no time to consider questions of property. There were others in the house, however, whose business activities were hindered, very apparently, less by the presence of death than by the strange perverseness of the lock of the safe in the library. The knob of it was twisted aud twisted in the most weari some way. “Steve,” remarked an anxious voice, at last, “we must have that money out! The deeds and mortgages must be recorded! Only one will mast be found there! This is awfal!” “We’ve some days yet, father, and we can blow it open.” “We must do it ourselves, then. It won’t do to have anybody else open that safe. We mnst let Ma ieleine alone, too, until after the fnneral.” “I don’t care,” growled Steve, “so long as Jeff Meredith is kept out of the house. Her Aunt Wickham is np there with her now.” Annt Wickham remained with Mad eleine all through the long, dark night of the first mourning. Then followed the strange days of interval between a death and a burial. Old Jacob Lap ham had a great deal of walking up and down in the parlor to do, for he was a bereaved man, with more than one grief to carry. The lock of the safe had mnch twisting to endure, but it still refused to remember its num bers. Judge Wickham came in, and Mr. Lapham began to say something to him about the safe and its contents, and its conduct. “Pooh, pooh, Jacob!" responded the old lawyer; “you are in no condition for business. It’s no time for it, eith er. Wait till after the fnneral. I’ll at tend to everything for you just now. Madeleine, too—she's all broken down.” Another night passed and another day came, and at the hour appoiniod there were carriages at the door. There was no occasion for remark, however, when the moorners came ont of the house, in the fact that Madeleine leaned on the arm of Judge Wickham, and entered a carriage with him and his wife, her mother’s sister, and with her mother’s friend, Mrs. Meredith. If her stepfather and stepbrother did not like it, that was not the time for them to say so, or to employ author- ity. The house was regained and was re entered by the family party, and no body else seemed to notice that Judge Wickham went in lost, and that, as he did so, he took the key out of the door and put it in his pocket. “Wickham,” said Mr. Lapham, as the old lawyer joined the rest in the parlor, “come in here a moment, can’t open the safe. Nobody knows the combination, but it open. Her will is there ” “Try it again, Jacob—try it said the judge, placidly. ba<u too agitated, too nervous- '‘We’ll have to have It blown said Mr. Lapham; “but just how it is ” And he did try it, with ostentati precision, in full confidence that look would continue its obstinacy, when he remarked, “There!” and gi a hard pull, open flew the door of safe and its contents were on pal exhibition. “I declare!” exclaimed Mr. Lap ham, springing to his feet. “Remark able!” “There’s the will,” said Judge Wick ham, calmly, as he sent a long arm in and pulled out a paper lying in full view. The eyes of Jacob Lapham were frantically searching the interior of the big iron safe for something which thsy did not seem to find. “That is all. AH correct,"continued Judge Wickham. “Deacon Morris and I are executors. Everything goes to Madeleine! I’ll take possession at once. That is, I’ll leave her in fall possession.” “Give me that paper!” roared Jacob Lapham. “It isn’t the will!” “Yes, it is!” replied the judge. “I know the signatures. I saw it put there. I was here. It’s all right, Jacob.” “There’s another will! The safe has been robbed! Money missing! Papers missing! I’m robbed!” “It isn’t, your safe, Jacob; it is Miss Lane's safe. If there is another will, produce it.” “Leave the house! I’m in control here! Get out! I’m in possession! “I think not,” answered Judge Wickham. “Yonr authority has ceased. Miss Lane is in possession. She is absolute, unquestionable owner. Yon and Steve must go!” It was of little use to storm, bat of course there was a storm, and it was all the worse because of the bewilder ing conduct of that safe. It con tained no other will, and when Judge Wickham shat it np it almost seemed to wink at him. The Judge did not storm, but he was firm, and so was Madeleine, and she, too, was calm, although she remarked: “If Stephen were a gentleman he wonld not wish to remain, knowing, as he does, how utterly I detest him. After what yon have said and done, Mr. Lapham, you must go at once. All that belongs to you has been put into your own room.” “Come upstaiff,” Steve,” said his father; and as soon as they were in Steve’s room, he added: “Wickham is going ont to find Morris. As soon as he is gone we will search that safe.” “We’ll clean it out, too,” said Steve. Hardly had they left the library, however, before Jefferson Meredith came in from the dining-room, where he had passed most of his time during the funeral services, aud once more he worried the lock of the safe a little. “Is it all right, Jeff?” asked Judge Wickham. “Am not I to know the new combination? , Can't you explain it to me?” “Simplest thing in the world,” said Jeff “Lots of people remember their safe combinations that way. The rid dle was no riddle at all.” “Independence, Fourth of July, and the days of the week? How was it? I must say it’s a riddle to me.” “Why,” said Jeff, “don’t yousee it? The year, 1776. The days, 7. Di vide so—17—7—76. to get your three numbers. Twist the knob the usual way. That did it.” “How is it now?” asked the lawyer. “All independence and freedom," said Jeff. “It is 17—21—76, and that's what’ll puzzle old Jacob when he comes down stairs. Bat it’s a good thing to know how to set and reset a lock.” Jeff was in another part of the honse when the Laphams were puzzled, but he knew how it was. Even the lock seemed to enjoy it as they tried to make it once more remember its old numbers. “It’s au awful riddle, Steve,” groaned old Jacob; “but we can’t get in.” That, alas for them, meant that their plot had failed, and that they mast get out. Only a few weeks later Jefferson Meredith was slowly, thoughtfully turning a plain gold ring upon one of Mrs. Madeleine Meredith’s fingers. “I feel so safe now,” shesaid; “sn.l it is what mother would have wished. ’ t ; 'M«deb;ne,” he sotverod her,’ “there are some combinations of which only God knows the secret. This is one of them, and it is locked forever.’’—McC.’s Monthly. HUMOR OF THE DAY. It is very seldom that we seriously regret anything we didn’t say.—Life. When a woman runs it is a mean man who will use his camera.—Somer ville Journal. Judge—“Why did you steal the com plainant’s turkeys?" Prisoner—“He had no chickens, your Honor.”—De troit Journal. She—“Why is it colled the ‘silver moon?’” He—“Because it comes iu halves and quarters, I suppose.”— Chicago News. Bacon—“And he’s kind-hearted, is he?” Egbert—“Kind-hearted? Why* I don’t believe he ever said an unkind word, even to an alarm clock!” “What wonld yon do if yon had only ten cents in the world, Kitty?” “1 would bnyv.o*r*mela with it to my spirits.”—Chicago Distraction: Johnny—“And does the gasmeter measure the quantity of gaa yon nee?” Papa—“No, my eon; the quantity you have to pay for.”- Puck. “Ma, is there any pie left in the pantry?” “There is one piece, bat yon can’t have it.” “Yon are mis taken, ma, Pve had it.”—Cleveland Plain Dealer. “He told me to get off the earth. What do yon suppose he meant?” “He seemed to think that you needed a bath, evidently.” — Louisville Courier-Journal. “You may fetter my body,” he shonted, “but my mind will wear no chain!” In other words, the wheel in his head was of the ’98 pattern.— Indianapolis Journal. Customer (in restaurant) — “Thie beefsteak must be at least three weeks old, isn’t it?” Waiter—“Don’t know* sab; I’se only been heah two weeks, sab.”—Chicago News. Raggs—“Say, do yon believe that story of the goose laying the golden egg?" Jaggs—“Well, it would be just like a goose to do such a foolish thing.”—Chicago News. Sloper (as Miss Eastlake, his in tended, finishes a solo)—“What a voice!" Duncan (who has been re jected by Miss Eastlake)—“Yes, what a voice!”—Harlem Life. •A North of England paper says: “We have adopted the eight-hour system in this office. We commence work at 8 o’clock in the morning and close at 8 in the evening.”—Tit-Bite. Matilda—“Have you spoken to papa?” Bertie—“Yes; I asked him through the telephone and he an swered: T don’t know who you are* but it’s all right.’ Pick-Me-Up. Not Necessarily: Walter — “So Bilker rents that forty-doll&r-a-month house of yours, does he? He pays too much rent.” Landlord (sighing) —“Yon don’t know him.”—Puck. "Men’s promises,” the young wife said between sobs, “are like pie-crust ’’ “That’s tough," said the young husband, and then she got angry enough to cry.—Indianapolis Journal. The Klondiker who returns with $1000 in gold dust usually estimatea the claim left behind at $500,000. It ie well to keep these assets in a sep arate class.—St. Louis Globe-Demo crat. Clarence—“Genevieve, why will you not hear me? Can’t you see that I am dyiug for your love? Tell me, tell me that you will—” Genevieve (interrupting)—“Oh, please go away and come some other time when I’m not busy. Can’t you see that I’m right in the middle of this murder case?”—Cleveland Leader. -