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x f 7 T/*? H CoPro/6*r , CHAPTER I. The Boy at the Barony. The Quintards had not prospered on the barren lands of the pine woods whither they had emigrated to escape the malaria of the low coast, but this no longer mattered, for the last of his name and race, old General Qulntard, was dead In the great house his father had built almost a century] before and the thin acres of the, Barony, where he had made his last j stand against age and poverty, were j to claim him, now that he had given up the struggle in their midst. Though he had lived continuously at the Barony for almost a quarter of | a century, there was none among his | neighbors who could say he had I looked on that thin, aquiline face In all that time. Yet they had known much of him, for the gossip of the slaves, who had been his only friends : in those years he had chosen to deny himself to other friends, had gone far and wide over the county. That notable man of business, Jona-' than Crenshaw, was closeted in 'the library with a stranger to whom rumor fixed the name of Bladen, supposing him to be the legal representative of certain remote connections of the old general's. Crenshaw sat before the flat-topped mahogany desk with several accountbooks before him. Bladen stood by i the window. "I suppose you will buy in the prop^ erty whDn it comes up for sale?" the latter was saying. "Crenshaw nodded. "He lived entirely alone, saw no one, I understand?" said Bladen. "Alone with his two or three old slaves?yes, sir. wouldn't even see me." There was a brief pause, then Cren-' shaw spoke again. "I refckon, sir, if you know anything about the old gentleman's private affairs you don't feel no call to speak on that point?" he observed. "All I know is this: General Qulntard was a conspicuous man in these parts fifty years ago; he married a Beaufort." "So he did," said Crenshaw, "and there was one child, a daughter; she ' married a South Carolinian by the name of Turberville. Great folks, those Turbervilles, rolling rich." "And what became of the daughter who married Turberville?" "Died years ago," said Crenshaw. They were interrupted by a knock at the door. "Come in," said Crenshaw. The door opened and a small boy entered the room dragging after him a long rifle. Suddenly overcome by a shy ness, be paused on the threshold to stare with round, wondering eyes at the two men. "Weil, sonny, what do you want?" asked Mr. Crenshaw indulgently. "Please, sir, I want this here old spo'tin' rifle," said the child. "I reckon you.may keep it?at least I've no objection." Crenshaw glanced at Bladen. "Oh, by all means," said the latter. Spasms of delight shook the small figure. With a murmur that was meant for thanks he backed from the room, closing the door. Bladen glanced inquiringly at Crenshaw. "You want to know about him, sir? . Well, that's Hannibal Wayne Hazard. But who Hannibal Wayne Hazard is ?just wait a minute, sir"?and quitting his chair Mr. Crenshaw hurried rmm return almost im I I UUi IUV/ i vvui w * mediately with a tall countryman. "Mr. Bladen, this is Bob Yaucy. Bob, the gentleman wants to hear about the woman and the child; that's your story." "Howdy, sir," said Mr. Yancy. He ' appeared to meditate on the mental effort that was required of hitn. "It was four years ago come next Christmas," said Crenshaw. "Old Christmas," corrected Mr. ' Yancy. "The evening beio', it was, and I'd gone to Fayetteville to got my Christmas fixin's. Just at sundown 1 hooked up that blind mule of mine to the cart and started fo* home. A mile \ out of town I heard some one slosh\ ing through the rain after me. I \ pulled up and waited, and then I made \ out it was_a woman., She spoke when ODIGAL JUDGE V^ughanKester. uii/sTf>ATms By D.Melviu '9". foe Ooeos-MeMui Compaq* ? i she was alongside the cart and says, 'Can you drive me on to the Barony?' When I got down to help her into the cart I saw she was toting a child in her arms. Well, sir, 6he hardly spoke until we came to the red gate, when she says, 'Stop, if you please; I'll walk the rest of the way.' The last { seen of her she was hurrying through the rain toting the child in her arms." Mr. Crenshaw took up the narrative. "When morning come she was gone, but the child done stayed behind. I've heard Aunt Alsidla tell as how the old general said that morning, pale and shaking like, 'You'll find a boy asleep in the red room; he's to be fed and cared fo\ but keep him out ot my signt. His name is Hanmbal Wayne Hazard.' That is all the general ever said on the matter." The old general was borne across what had once been the west lawn to hie resting-place in the neglected acre where the dead and gone of his race lay, and the record of the family was complete, as far as any man knew. Then Crenshaw, assisted by Bob | Yancy, proceeded to secure the great i house against intrusion. They passed from room to room securing doors and windows, and at last stepped out upon the back porch. "Hullo!" said Yancy, pointing. There on a bench by the kitchen door was Hannibal Wayne Hazard asleep, with his old spo'tin' rifle across his knees. "Well, I declare to goodness!" said Crenshaw. "I reckon you'd rather drop a word with yo' missus before you toted him home?" suggested Yancy, who knew something of the nature of his friend's flnm^stie thraldom. "A woman ought to be boss In her own house," said Crenshaw. "Feelin' the truth of that, I've never married, Mr. John. But I was going to say, what's to hinder me from toting that boy to my home?" "If you'll take the boy, Bob, you shan't lose by it." Yancy rested a big knotted hand on the boy's shoulder. "Come, wake up, sonny!" The child roused with a start and stared Into the strange bearded face that was bent toward him. "It's yo' Uncle Bob," continued Yancy in a wheedling tone. "Here, give us the spo'tin' rille to tote!" Yancy balanced the rifle on his great palm and his eyes assumed a speculative cast. "I wonder what's to hinder us from loading this old gun, ana nring mis old gun, and hearing this old gun go?bang! Eh?" The child's blue eyes grew wide. "Please, Uncle Pob, make it go bang!" "You come along, then," and Mr. Yancy moved off in the direction of his mule, the child following. Thereafter beguiling speech flowed steadily from Mr. Yancy's bearded ry*frg Jw/ "This," Said Yancy, "Are Scratch Hill." lips, in the midst of which relations were established between the mule and cart, and the boy quitted the Barony for a new world. The afternoon sun waned as they j w ent deeper and deoner into the Dine woods, but at last they came to their | journey's end, a widely scattered settlement on a hill above a branch. "This," said iAt. Yancy, "are Scratch Hill, sonny. Why Scratch Hill? Some say It's the fleas; others j agin hold it's the eternal bother or . making a living here, but whether ! fleas or living you scratch to' both." CHAPTER II. Captain Murreli Asks Questions. In the deep peace that rested Ilk a benediction on the pine-clad slope of Scratch Hill the boy Hannibal fo lowed at Yancy's heels as that gen tleman pursued the not arduous rounds of temperate industry which made up his daily life, for if Yancy were not completely idle he was responsible ior a counterfeit presentment of idleness having most of the merits of the real article. The Barony had been offered for sale and bought in by Crenshaw for eleven thousand dollars, this being the amount of his claim. Some six months later he sold the plantation for fifteen thousand dollars to Nathaniel Ferris, of Currituck county. "There's money In the old place, Bob, at that figure," Crenshaw told V ? n r%rr xauv;. , "Bladen's got an answer from them South Carolina Qulntards, and they don't know nothing about the boy," added Crenshaw. "So you can rest easy, Bob; they ain't going to want him." "Well, sir, that surely is a passel or comfort to me. I find I got all the instincts of a father without having had none of tLe instincts of a husband." A richer, deeper realization of his joy came to Yancy when he had turned his back on Balaam's Cross Roads and set out for home through the fragrant silence of the pine woods. Just beyond the Barony, which was midway between Balaam's and the Ilill, down the long stretch of sandy road he saw two mounted figures, then as they drew nearer ho caught the flutter of skirts and recognized one of the horsewomen. It was Mrs. Ferris, wife of the Barony's new owner. She reined In her horse abreast of his cart. "Aren't you Mr. Yrancy?" she asked. "I am Mrs. Ferris, and I am very | pleased to make your acquaintance." I "The same here," murmured Yancy | with winning civility. Mrs. Ferris' companion leaned for- , ward, her face averted, and stroked her horse's neck with gloved hand. "This Is my friend, Miss Betty Malroy." "Glad to know you, ma'am," said . Yancy. Miss Malroy faced him, smiling, j She was quite radiant with youth and ' beauty. "We are just returning from Scratch Hill," said Mrs. Ferris. VAnd the dear little boy we met is your nephew, is he not, Mr. Yancy?" It was Betty Malroy who spoke. "In a manner he is and in a manner he ain't," explained Yancy, somewhat enigmatically. "Do you know the old deserted cabin by the big pine??the Blount place?" asked Mrs. Ferris. "Yes, ma'am, I know it." "I am going to have Sunday school there for the children; they shan't be neglected any longer if I can help It. Now won't you let your little nephew come?" "I reckon you-all can count on my nevvy," Hob said. Hannibal and Yancy were the first to arrive at the deserted cabin in the old field Sunday afternoon. Shy children from the pine woods, big brothers with little sisters and big sisters with little brothers, drifted out of the encircling forest. Mrs. Ferris' missionary spirit manifested itself agreeably enough on the whole. She read certain chapters from the Bible, finishing with the story of David, a narrative that made a deep impression upon Yancy, comfortably seated in the doorway. "You will all be here next Sunday, won't you??and at the same hour?" she said, rising. There was a sudden clatter of hoofs beyond the door. A man, well dressed and weH mounted had ridden into the yard. As Mrs. Ferris came from the cabin he flung him- , solf out of the saddle and, hat la hand, approached her. "I am hunting a place called the Barony; can you tell me if 1 am on the right road?" he asked. He was a man in the early thirties, graceful and powerful of build, with a handsome face. "It is my husband you wish to see? I am Mrs. Ferris." "Then General Quintard is dead?" His tone was one of surprise. . I ? ? . V, nnnnvpad /"ii-or ft VPAT ago, and my husband now owns the Uarony; were you a friend of the general's ?" "No, madam; he was my father's friend, but 1 had hoped to meet him." llis manner was adroit and plausible. "Will you ride on with us to the liarony* and meet my husband, Mr. ???" she raused. _ i I "^TU pr ON Meal and Hulls fc Just received a car fresh M< same cheat). Hulls 45 cents per I lbs.,50 cents per lOOlbs. less qua sack of 100 lbs. $1.45 per sack j ed anywhere in town. Terms ca in car lots as cheap as any comp J. E. WIL tZi , Phone 206 DIXIE C * Second street. Ch 3 PATRICK BUII h AVe are now open for l)uisnes J for Ladies and Gentlemen. ? Prices to suit each one. A tr: I Pete Zor | Propriei l Hulls and Meal I Local Deliv Meal fo Any Quani | C. S. LY? As to good wood shingle, and in some places they cost Roofs put on 26 years ago are as good as new tod Sold by Cheraw Hardware & S | FOR 1 ONE TWO YEAR OLD HEIFE] C and 5j ONE CHAINLESS CJOLUM | H. L. PO u Btnonaa ICES J ?r Cow Feed I ?al and Hulls. Will sell I 100 lbs. in lots of 500 J tntity. Meal $1.50 per J in 5 bag lots. Deliver- D ,sh. Can furnish Hulls I >etitor. m SON, | Cheraw, S. C. M craw, S. C. JDING s. Clean up-todate Cafe ial is all we ask. lious tor ?1 I 9 % eries I ir Exchange S IGHTn ftMETAL N f SHINIES LAID RSGHT OVER OLD WOOD SHINGLES fo dirt?no bother, and when ooce I ey make a thoroughly storm-proof e-proof roof, neither of whicn can <4 imed for the wood shingle. price?they cost no more than a much less. I ay, and have never needed repairs. | upply Co. Cheraw.S.C iLE | R, ? GOOD BREED J :bia bicycle f WE \