Tfttog: MtfM -to; -the
A TALE bf the NORTH COUNTRY in the TIME of SILAS WRIGHT
-:' ' : By IRVING B ACHEIXER. "
a Author Of EBEN HOLDEN. D'RI AND I. DARREL OP THB BLESSED
ISLES. KEEPING UP WITH LIZZIE. Etc.. Etc.
Copyright by bring Bacheller
CHAPTER X'
A Party andMy Fourth Peril? ;
It was ' a rainy Sunday. In the
middle of the afternoon Uncle Pea
body and I had set out In our spring
.buggy with the family umbrella a
faded but saered Implement,- always
rn ref nil v dried, after nslne. and hnner
In .the clothes press. We were drenched
to the skin in spite of the umbrella.
It was still raining when we arrived
at the familiar door In Ashery lane.
Uncle Peabody wouldn't stop.
He hurried away We pioneers rare
ly stopped or even turned out for the
weather. - v
"Come in said the voice of the
schoolmaster at' the -door. "There's
good weather under this roof."
He saw my plight as I entered.
"I'm like a shaggy dog that's been
In swimming," I said.
"Upon my word, boy, we're in .luck,"
remarked the schoolmaster.
I looked up at him. - "
"Michael Henry's clothes ! sure,
they're Just the thing for you !"
I followed him upstairs, wondering
;' how It had happened that Michael
Henry had clothes. , "
He took me into his room and
brought some handsome, soft clothes
out of a press with shirt, socks and
boots to match.
There, my laddie buck," said he.
"put them on.
"These will soon dry on me, I said.
"Put them on ye laggard! Michael
- Henry told me togive them to ,you.
It's the birthday night o' little Ruth,
my boy. There's a big cake with can
dles and chicken pie and jellied cook
ies and all the like o that. Put them
dampen the whole proceedings.
I put them on and with a great
sense of relief and comfort. They
were an admirable fit too perfect for
an accident, although at the time -1
thought only of their grandeur as I
stood surveying myself in thejooking
glass. They were of blue cloth and I
saw that they went well with 'my
blond hair and light skin. I was put
ting on my collar and necktie when
Mr. Hacket returned.
We went below and the -table was
very grand with its great frosted cake
-and its candles, in shiny brass sticks,
and Its jellies and preserves with' the
gleam of polished pewter among them.
Mrs. Hacket and all the children, save
Ruth, were waiting for us in the din
ing room.
"Now sit down here, all o ye, with
Michael Henry," said the schoolmas
ter. "The little lady will be impatient
ril go and get her and God help us to
make her remember the. day."
TT . . . .
ne was gone a moment, oniy, wnen
'he came back with Ruth in lovely
white dress and slippers and gay with
- ribbons, and the silver beads of Mary
on her neck. We clapped our hands
and cheered and, in-the excitement of
the moment, John tipped over his
drinking v glass and shattered it on
the floor.
"Never mind, my brave lad no . glass
ever perished in a better cause. God
bless youl"
We ate and jested and talked, and
the sound of our laughter drowned
' the cry of - the wind in the : chimney
and the drumming of the rain upon
the windows. ;
Next morning my clothes, which had
been hung by. the kitchen stove, were
damp and wrinkled. Mr. Hacket came
to my room before I had risen.
"Michael Henrv wonld rnther see
his clothes hanging on a good boy
than on a nail in the closet,"; said he.
, "Sure they give no comfort Jto the
nail at all."
"I guess mine are dry now, I an
swered. '
"They're wet and heavy, boy. No
son o' Baldur could keep a llht heart
in them. Sureve'd he ns much mit
o place as a sunbeam in a cave o
bats. If ye care not for your own
comfort think o' the poor lad in the
green chair. He's .that proud and
pleased to see then on ye it would be
n shame to reject his offer. Sure, if
they were dry .yer own garments
would be good enough, Godknows,
but Michael Henry loves the look o'
ye in these togs," and then the presi
dent is in town.V
That evening he discovered a big
stain,- black as ink, on my coat and
trousers. Mr. Hacket expressed the
pinion that it might have come from
the umbrella, but I am aulie sure that
he had spotted them to save me fromT5
the last homemade suit I "ever -wore,
save in rough work and keep Michael
Henry's on my back. In any event I
wore them no more save at chore time.
Sally came and went, with the Wills
boy. and cava nn tiooj vA - Tr.
eyes I had . no more substance' than
a ghost, it seemed to me, although I
caught her. often, looking at me." I
Judged that her father had. given her
a bad report of us and had some re
grets, In spite of my knowledge that
we were right, although they related
mostly to Amos. . - '
Neat afternoon I saw Mr. Wright
and the president walking back and
forth on the bridge ns tha ,iiAsf
a y vm, . iiuacu
together. A number of men stood in
front of the blacksmith 'shop, by the
river shore, watching ; them, as I
passed, on my way to. the, mill on an
errand. ? The two statesmen were , In
broadcloth and white linen and beaver
bats. They: stopped as I approached
them, i.y py- ..
"Well, partner, we shall be leaving
in an hour or so," said Mr. Wright as
he gave me his hand. "You may look
for me here soon after the close of the
session. Take care of yourself and go
often to see Mrs. Wright and obey
your captain and remember me to your
aunt and uncle." " " : - ' 1-
"See that you keep coming, my good
boy," said the president as he gave me
his hand, with playful reference, no
doubt, to Mr. Wright's remark that I
was a coming man.
"Bart,- I've some wheat to be
thrashed in the barn on the back lot,"
said the senator as I was leaving
them. "You can do it Saturdays, if
you care to, at a shilling an : hour.
Stack the straw out of doors until
you've finished, then put it back in the
bay. Winnow the wheat carefully and
sack it and bring it down to the gran
ary and Til settle with you when I
return .
I remember that a number of men
who worked In Grimshaw's sawmill
were passing as he spoke.
"Yes, sir," I answered, much elated
by the prospect of earning money.
The examination of Amos was set
down for Monday and the people of
the village were stirred and shaken
by wildest rumors regarding the evi
dence, to be adduced. Every day men
and women stopped me in the street
to ask what I knew of the murder. I
followed the advice of Bishop Per
kins and kept my knowledge to myself.
Saturday came, and when the chores
were done I went alone to the grain
born In the back lot of the senator's
farm with flail and measure and broom
and fork and shovel and sacks and my
luncheon. In a pushcart, with all of
which Mrs. Wright had provided me.
It was a lonely place with woods
on three sides of the field and a road
on the other. I kept laying down
beds of wheat on the barn floor and
beating them out with the flail until
the sun was well over the roof, when
I sat down to eat my luncheon. Then
I swept- up the grain and winnowed
out the chaff and filled one of my
sacks. That done, 1 covered the floor
again and the thump of the flail eased
my loneliness until " in the middle of
the afternoon two of my schoolmates
came and asked me to go swimming
with them. The river was not forty
rods away and a good trail led to the
swimming hole. It was a warm, bright
day and I was hot and thirsty. The
thought of cool waters and friendly
companionship was too much for me.
I went with them and stayed with
them longer than I Intended. I re
member saying as I dressed that I
should have to work late and go with
out my supper In order to finish my
stint . . ; ,
It was almost dark when'I .was put
ting the last sack of wheat Into my
cart, in the gloomy barn and; getting
ready to go. t , f '
A rustling In the straw where I
stood stopped me suddenly. I heard
stealthy footsteps. In the darkness. I
stood my ground and demanded :
"Who's there?"
I saw a form approaching In the
gloom with feet as noiseless as a cat's.
. c
I Had Time to Raise ; My Flail and
Bring It Down Upon the Head of
the Leader,
I took a step backward and, seeing
that it was a woman, stopped.
"It's Kate," came In a hoarse whis
per as I recognized her form and staff.
"Run, boy they have just come out
o' the woods. I saw them. They will
take you away. Run."
She had picked up the flail, and now
she put It in my hands and gave me
a push toward the door. r I ran, and
none too quickly, for' I had not gone
fifty feet from the barn In the stubble
when I heard them coming after me,
whoever they were. I saw that they
were gaining and turned quickly. I
had time to raise my flail and bring It
down cjon the he&a of the leader,
who fell as I had Seen a beef fall un
der the ax. Another man.stopped be
yond the reach of my flail and, after
a second's hesitation, turned and ran
away In the darkness. ;v ' ;
I could hear or see no other motion
In, the field, i I turned and ran on
down the slope toward the village. In
a moment I saw- someone coming out
of the maple grove at the field's end,
just ahead, with a lantern, f
Then I heard the voice of the school
master saying: -
"Is It you, my lad?"
"Yes, t answered, as I came up to
him; and Mary, in a condition of
breathless excitement . T . '
I told them of the curious adventure
I had had. '
"Come quick," said the schoolmas
ter. ''Let's go back and find the man
in the stubble? 7
I remembered that I had struck the
path In my flight just before stopping
to swing the flail. The man must have
fallen very near-It Soon we found
where he had been lying and drops of
fresh blood on the stubble.
"Hush," said the schoolmaster.
We listened and heard a .wagon rat
tling at a wild pace down the road
toward the river.
"There he goes," said Mr. Hacket.
"His companions have carried him
away. Ye'd , be riding in that wagon
now, yerself, my brave lad, if ye hadn't
'a made a lucky hit with the flail
God bless ye !"
What would they 'a done with
me?" I asked.
"Oh, I reckon they'd a took ye off,
lad, and kep ye for a year or so until
Amos was out o danger,' said Mr.
Hacket "Maybe they'd drowned ye In
the river down there an left yer
clothes on the bank to make it look
like an honest drowning. The devil
knows what they'd a done with ye,
laddie buck. We'll have to keep an
eye on ye -. now, every day until the
trial is over sure we will. Come, we'll
go up to the barn and see if Kate is
there."
Just then we heard , the receding
wagon go roaring over the bridge on
Little river. Mary shuddered with
fright The schoolmaster reassured us
by saying:
"Don't be afraid. I brought my. gun
In case we'd meet a painter. But the
danger is past."
He drew a long pistol from his coat
pocket and held It In the light of the
lantern.
The loaded cart stood In the middle
of the barn floor, where I had left It,
but old Kate had gone. We closed
the barn, drawing the cart along with
us. When we came Into the edge of
the village I began to reflect upon the
strange peril out of which I had so
luckily escaped. It gave me a heavy
sense of responsibility and of the
wickedness of men.
I thought of old Kate and her broken
silence. For once I had heard her
speak. I ceuld feel my flesh tingle
when I thought of her quicV words
and her hoarse, passionate whisper.
I knew, or thought I knew,; why she
took such care of me. She was in
league with the gallows and could not
bear to see It cheated of Its prey. For
some reason she hated the Grlmshaws.
I had seen the hate in her eyes the
day she dogged along behind the old
money lender through the streets of
the village when her pointing finger
had seemed to say to me: JThere,
there is the man who has brought me
to this. He has put these rags upon
my back, this fire In niy heart, this
wild look in mv eyes. Wait and; you
will see whaLr will put upon him."
I knew that old Kate was not the
irresponsible, witless creature that
people thought her to be. I had begun
to think of her with a kind of awe as
one gifted above all others. One by
one the things she had said of ; the
future seemed to be coming true- -
- As we were going into the house the
schoolmaster said:
"Now, Mary, -you take. this lantern
ond go across thestreet to the house
o Deacon Binks, the constable. You'll
find him asleep by the kitchen stove.
Arrest his, slumbers, but not rudely,
and, when he has come to, tell him
that I have news o the devil."
Deacon Binks arrived, a fat 'man
with a big, round body and a very
wise ajid serious countenance between
side whiskers bending from his temple
to his neck and suggesting parentheses
of hair, as if his head and its acces
sories were in the nature of a 6ide
Issue. He and the schoolmaster went
out of doors and must have talked to
gether while I was eating a bowl of
bread and milk which Mrs. Hacket had
brought to me. ' ; :
When I went to bed, by and by, I
heard somebody snoring on the little
porch under my window. The first
sound that reached my ear at " the
break of dawn-was the snoring of
some sleeper. I. dressed and went be
low and found the constable In his
coonskin overcoat asleep on the porch
with a long-barreled gun at his side.
While I stood there the schoolmaster
came around the corner of the house
from the garden. He put his hand oh
the deacon's shoulder and gave him
a little shake.
"Awake, ye limb o. the law he de
manded. "Prayer Is better fw
sleep. ...
The deacon arosa end ctretciea
bluisetr aud cleared his throat end as
stmed an air of alertness and said It
was a fine morning,' which It was not,
the sky being overcast and the air
dark and cnilly. "Mr. Hacket removed
his greatcoat and threw.it on the.stoop
saying i ' ' ' ::.'r
"Deacon, you lay theie. From now,
on I'm constable and ready for any act
that may be necessary to maintain the
law. I can be as severe as Napoleon
Bonaparte and as cunning as Satan, IT
I have to be."' : ; '--i -"V.
Whil Iivas milking the deacon sat
on a bucket in , the doorway of the
stable and snored untilJE had finished.
He awoke when I loosed the cow and
the constable went back to the pasture ,
with me, yawnlnff with his hand over
his mouth much of the way; The dea
con leaned his elbow on the top of
the pen and t snored again, lightly,
wnile I mixed the feed for the pigs.
Mr.. Hacket met us at the kitchen
door, where Deacon Binks said to him:
J "If you'll look after ' the boy today
.111. go home and get a little rest
"God bless yer soul, ye haa a pusy
night," said the uchoolmaster with a
smile. - -'"' 1 ' : . ;
- He added as he rent into the house:
' i never knew a man to rest with
more energy and persistence. ; It was
a perfect flood o' rest It kept me
awake until long after midnight"
CHAPTER XI. ' '
The Spirit of Michael Henry and
Others.
At the examination of Amos Grim
shaw my knowledge was comuiitted to
the records and ceased to be a eource
of danger to me. Grlmshaw came to
the village that day. On my; way to
the courtroom I saw him walking
.8 r
PC--.
tffi LAST WORDli
"Awake, Ye Limb o' the Law '
slowly, with bent headas I had seen
him before, followed by'old Kate. She
carried her staff In 'her left hand while
the forefinger of her right hand was
pointing him out Silent as a ghost
and as unheeded one would say she
followed his steps. ..'-.
I observed that old Kate sat on a
front seat with her hand to her eai
and. Grlmshaw beside his lawyer at . a
big table and that when she looked ai
him her lips moved in a strange un
uttered whisper of her spirit Her
face filled with joy as one damning
detail after another came 'out in: the
evidence.
The facts hereinbefore alleged, and
others, .were prove!, for the tracks fit
ted the shoes of Amos. The young
man' was held antf presently indicted.
The ti me of his trial was not deter
mined. I wrote a good hand those days and
the leading merchant of the village
engaged me to post his books every
Saturday at tenents an hour.v Thence
forward until Christmas I gave my
free days to that task. I estimated
the sum , that I should earn- and
planned to divide 'It in equal parts and
proudly present It to my aunt and
uncle on Christmas day. .
One Saturday while I was at work
on the big ledger of the merchant I
ran upon this item :
October ' S. S. Wrteht To one suit
of clothes for Michael Henry from
measures furnished by S. Robin-
son . S14.SI
Shirts to match.-. IM
1 1 knew then the history of the suit
of clothes which I had worn since that
rainy October night, for I remembered
that Sam Robinson, the tailor, had
I measured me at our house and made
up the cloth of Aunt Deel's weaving.
V I observed, also, that numerous ar
ticlesa load of wood, two sacks of
flour, three pairs of boots,, one coat;
ten pounds of salt pork and four j
bushels of potatoes all for "Michael
Henry"rhad been charged to Silas
Wright. - - -p :-.;rr;, v .
So by the .merest chance J, learned
that the invisible "Michael Henry was
the almoner of the modest statesman
and really the spirit of Silas Wright
feeding the hungry and clothing the
naked and warming the cold house,
in the absence of Its owner. It was
the heart of Wright joined to that of
the schoolmaster, , which jsat in the
green chair. ; - ;.:i.v...--;:---'
I fear that my work suffered a mo
ment's Interruption, for just then I
began to know; the great heart of the
senator. Its warmth Was in the cloth
ing, that covered my back, its delicacy
In thv Ignorance of those trho , hmt
shared its; benefactions.-
' - (TOBB CONTJLNUaiX) -
They say e tintrlcan donehnri
is making s big Jtltfega the FrxncJa
"X It's Justed crthem. . . -
" " ' r 'ww&&wmi,,,..,.,... I
.v.v v..o::.-.v.....:.::?':?'
The long cloak arriving a little late j is gath
but In force, ; finishes up the proces
sion of spring outer garments and is
the last word In wraps.. It Is the very
logical result of , tlie liking for capes
and theV vogue of narrow skirts, for it
follows In their wake, being a loose
and graceful affair that narrows at
the bottom, so as not to Interfere with
the silhouette which results from the
new skirts. These new cloaks are not
destined to diminish, the. vogue of
capes but will have the opposite ef
fect; their general capelike appear
ance Is a compliment-to. the xrnpe.
Besides velours and the heavier fab
rics, there are capes and cloaks made
of tricotine, men's wear' serge and
other substantial wool materials. For
dressy wear satin capes lined . with
peaurde cygne forecast cloaks of the
same. The Wool capes are usually
silk lined. The new, heavy weaves In
trade-marked silks are entering the
field also "and open new 1 vistas to the
designer of cloaks. But 'popular, al
legiance still makes cloaks of velours
and similar jeloths, soft andrlch look
ing, the most" desirable of v lliev "new
models. V-'-"""'.-:-'
A very good example of such a! cloak
is shown in' the picture. Its fullness
It nfeelv
"W-MtMjjlt
into a yot;
at tllO eU
rtrji his ar ine sides J
and leit open ns thn
torn. Cloth-covered he
them unianiont and d
ment. A long, narrw
the clotli is ln'opedoTi
and theiv is the. ust
collar that can h r;
tne thro: a nni deeped
Many of these new cloy?
ieci oi i.t-iti- very narf
bottom but this jS
way in which they k
the saiiu" moms frode
look narrower than ft"
4
cloak mtist, of course,
in walking, 'but its apd
misleading in this rega:
Yedda Braid for Spring
Yedua braid is shown
.clally in striking two-toa
effect. Yedda was mi
from Paillette imported
crown of tlii.s model rl
Hnnc t-hic)i worn tiiiw
crushed to form Iwo.des
served to give the effect
a tricorne from Odette, a
and yellow was employ
BLOUSES ACCREDITED FOR SUM
TV- f
Midsummer blouses are made In
such numbers ot either georgette or
voile, that there is not much else to
consider in blouses. There is no room
to doubt that these - two fabrics are
far and away the favorites. They are
the loveliest of materials and the most
reliable as . well, and are made in a
wide- variety of plain and printed
patterns and In embroidered varieties
that are to "be had wherever; there is
a dry goods store. , The study of mid
eummer blouses is, therefore, mostly a
study of designs to be worked out in
either voile or georgette. The pres
ent season offers a variety; of design
that is wonderful in both plain and
figured materials, In whlfe, in colors
and In color combinations.
The blouses pictured ? here are of
the plain fabrics. . Tha t at the left
is of. flesh-colored georgette with ves
tee set In in white. Fine side plait
Ings of the white georgette make the
dainty decoration that distinguishes
this from many Jace-trimmed models.
The soft material is shirred-in along
the shoulder seams and arranged in a
wide plait at each side-of the vestee.
There are long, .flowing- sleeves with
two- rows of plaiting for; a finish -and
a round .collar of the J wiute 'crepe
edged with plaited "frilUi . 'v
The blouse at the right iu a fine ex
ample of effective mabageraeht of
plalh fine voile: J The material Is cov
ered with cross-bar tucks for the body
of the pretty ! garment, while the
sleeves are plain with deo -cuffs of
the .tucked voile. Rounds covered, or
crocheted buttons, set
of the cuffs are imPortiJ
Ishing of this model.-1
set on over the lody or
Ions enouirh to extei)
C5 '
line and it forms, n
the waist w Iii' h it i
soft
is fei
hanging ends. IM j
. . . i . ;,i tins IV
mouses maue .
the girdle fa-'i-ning ti w
the mil
die P!t;
Plnincrs !
-I C7
ffc tn ttio sh i
V UUP t. . -
ihis model. '
other materiaN
in thp ilosiL't'i. espec
piping? 5
gant tailored wai
and1
Box Coat
- The box coat
The Waistco it
here we are f;
collar question,
neck line caile!
achieved hy
above the other,
denial
(alls" f.
ing the?'
in.! tfr
the dout'H
trofiA nf ( UirK oiu. - j
per line of W"
bwcade wim-n j
,,nflpr the top-' I
with a brighter bluej
favors - j
Terra cou .mA
rnrUa rnlor for Dr'6V
tral colored blouse of I