THE PINEHURST OUTLOOK.
2
THE HARSH TREATMENT OF CICERO TRUBY
(Written for The Outlook.)
continued.
Two weeks later Robert Dewey was
surprised by receiving a letter from Pix
ley. It was written by a local magis
trate and half lawyer whose presence in
the town saved its inhabitants the ex
pense of a whole one. He gave a brief
account of the death of Mrs. Dewey,
and of her husband only a few days af
ter. "There seemed to be nothing in
particular the matter with him, but lie
just didn't appear to know how to live
after she was gone," the letter said. The
property had been mainly hers, and she
had made a will, bequeathing it to her
husband to use during his lifetime, and
specifying that at his death it should go
to L University. No mention of an
adopted son had been made in the will,
lie had not even been "cut oiF with a
shilling," but Mr. Julius Mickle had dis
covered that there was one through
some channel which he did not disclose.
He announced that it would be perfectly
easy to break the will and inherit the
property, if Robert Dewey could show
proof of his adoption.
After reading the letter twice very
carefully, Dewey glanced about the
cheerless untidy room in which he sat
and a melancholy smile flickered over
his thin, dark face. Through the open
doorway came the sound of his. wife's
fretful treble scolding one of the too
numerous children.
"Tired out, body, soul and spirit, poor
girl !" said he, sadly. "A little money
wouldn't be amiss in this family, that's
certain. The children drive Hattie
almost wild, and I'm afraid her voice
isn't always soothing to them. I get
cranky myself altogether too often, and
that doesn't help matters any. Some
how, between the grinding of the big
world out of doors and the iarring of the
little one within, the melody of life gets
small chance of a hearing. Perhaps
money would help if it isn't too late.
But to break the will, hum, let me see!
No, I couldn't do that. Their intentions
are perfectly clear, and I'm not going to
try to thwart them by taking advantage
of technicalities."
He mused a little while, holding the
letter idly in his hand, a bent, dejected
figure, slender and shabby, with cluster
ing gray hair and deep-set, kindly eyes,
caverns where lurked spirits gay and
spirits somber, ever ready laughter and
ever ready tears. He had found con
siderable fun in life, but not much com
fort or happiness, hitherto, and even now
the humor of the situation appealed to
him as much as its wretchedness.
"Avaunt, Julius Mickle, Esq. !" said he,
tossing the letter upon a confused heap
of papers that covered his writing table,
"I'll not listen to thy machiavelian
counsel. What profanation for a sinner
like me to lay violent hands upon the
treasure which good father and mother
Dewey thought was laid up in heaven,
when they left it to L University !
When they were alive they never could
stand it to see me having a good time, so
I'll not run the risk of disturbing their
peace by beginning to eat, drink and
wear respectable raiment now that they
are dead. Poor, lonely old couple! I
wish they might have had a kindly thought
of me before they died, even if they
couldn't leave me their property.'
After writing a brief note to Mr.
Mickle, refusing to tamper with the will
or to make any sort of claim upon the
estate, he dismissed the whole matter
from his mind.
But not so did lawyer Mickle. lie sat
in his dirty office one pleasant morning
in June, dreamily expectorating into the
empty fireplace, and dragging the muddy
depths of his memory for a drowned
fact. Its spectral face had risen to the
surface many times in the last two
months, only to varnish,;however, when
he tried to grapple it.
"Cuss that whiskey!" he exclaimed
angrily, "I'll never touch another drop
of it that is, when there is any business
to be done."
Mr Mickle had come to Pixley from
nobody knew where. Nothing was
known of his origin or past life, for on
both these points he was entirely uncom
municative, and there was no other
source of information. But it was gen
erally supposed that he had been a great
traveller, for the reason that it seemed
quite impossible for a man to have picked
up so many bad habits as Mr. Mickle had
in any one quarter of the world.
Yet he excited considerable admiration
as well as wonder in the little town, for
he undoubtedly possessed considerable
legal knowledge and skill, and had the
faculty one might almost say, the gift
of transacting business nearly as well
when drunk as when sober. He could
draw up a legal document with perfect
correctness, and give professional advice
with a gravity of deportment which left
nothing to be desired, when so heavily
"loaded" as to be unable to stir out of
his chair. He never made a memoran
dum of what was done on such occasions,
and generally could remember nothing
about them when he was sober. Ordi
narily this was no great drawback, for
the documents could speak for themselves
and if the advice was very bad it was not
followed; but now he was haunted by a
vague recollection of something that he
had done for Mr. Dewey, just before
his death, of which there was no scrap
of evidence. What could it be?
Again and again he went over the
events of that period. He remembered
that after the death of Mrs. Dewey, the
old man had brought her will to him to
ask his advice upon it, and that he had
then and there pointed out certain flaws
in it and advised the making of a new
one. He remembered, too, that Mr.
Dewey did iiot seem much disturbed by
the information, and assented very
readily to his advice. He could almost
remember that they had settled upon a
day for drawing up the instrument; but
just at that point everything faded out
into a blank which lasted over' a week.
"A spree," his acquaintances said;
"mental alibi" was his term for it. The
next thing he could remember was the
death of Mr. Dewey, and then the seal
ing up of his effects in the presence of
witnesses. In spite of diligent search
ing only the will of Mrs. Dewey had
been found. Was another one ever
made, and if so, what had become of it?
Progress was slow in settling the es
tate. Mr. Dewey had been one of the
executors of his wife's will, and the
other was at some distant point in the
North. The University at L had dis
played no unseemly haste to get pos
session of it's legacy, and Robert Dewey
had perversely refused to break the will.
Evidently there was nothing to do but
wait and let everything work out their
own salvation. As a rule, no occupation
could better suit Mr. Mickle than this.
He was used to it, and had always found
it well adapted to his philosophic dispo
sition. But this time philosophy did not
avail. He found himself growing more
and more restless and uneasy. He
wished that he could either remember
this something that was continually
bothering him or else forget it altogether.
"If that adopted son of old Dewey's
wasn't so mighty set up in his notions
and would just let me go ahead and bust
up that will, 'twould be all right. I
might get rid of this cusssed ghost of an
idea that goes promenading up and down
my mind. It's my belief that John
Dewey made a will in favor of that high
headed feller up in Massachusetts never
would have spoken of him in the way he
did to me, if he hadn't meant to but
what in Chickahominy did he do with
it?"
The question had been often asked be
fore and always with the same geograpi
cal flourish, but hitherto no answer had
appeared. This morning, however, by
direction of the fates, Cicero Truhy stood
at the door, holding in one hand a very
ragged hat and in the other the solution
of the mystery.
continued next week.
Negroes' Own Mill.
Last week the machinery of the only
cotton mill in the world owned and oper
ated by negroes was started at Concord,
N. C.
Two years ago W. C. Coleman, a well-to-do
colored citizen of Concord, began
to canvass the state in the interest of
such a factory. How well he succeeded
was shown today when the 7500 spindles
began to turn. The mill was given Cole
man's name in compliment, for he se
cured subscriptions aggregating $50,000.
The Coleman mill is the 2.35th cotton
mill in operation in North Carolina. It
will employ 100 persons, half of them
adults. The stock is widely scattered.
The machinery is all new and of the
best patterns. The building is of brick
and well constructed. Many white per
sons were anxious to tike stock. Exchange.
Why Sin? Kefuseri The Itoom.
A German lady, arriving for the first
time in England, drove to a flrst-class
London hotel, asked for a room, and was
shown into a very small, scantily
furnished one. She said, in a deter
mined manner, and in very broken Eng
lish. "I will not have this room."
"No, ma'am," said the porter, and
brought in the first box.
"Man!" repeated the lady, emphatic
ally, "I will not have this room !"
"No, ma'am," said the porter and
brought in the second box.
The lady thought her faulty gram
matical construction was the reason of
the porter's continued obstinacy, and
repeated, with a stern distinctness :
"Man, I will have this room not
have!"
"No, ma'am," said the porter, and
brought in the third box, whereupon the
lady left the room indignantly, but the
porter drew her hurriedly back across
the threshold, pulled a rope and to her
intense astonishment, the lift went up.
Exchange.
PLANT LIFE, to be vi?.
orous and healthy, must
have
Potash
Phosphoric Acid and Nitrogen.
These essential elements are
to plants, what bread, meat and
water are to man.
Crops flourish on soils well
supplied with Potash.
Our pamphlets tell hovy to buy and apply
fertilizers, and are free to all.
GERHAN KALI WORKS,
93 Nassau St., New York.
Bo You Want
FINE
JOB
PRINTING?
Our nttlee is well equipped with
New Modern Type
First Class Presses
Electric Power
Competent Workmen
Prices Reasonable. Give us a Call.
THE OUTLOOK,
Pirtehurst, N. C.
HOME MADE BREAD
Can be obtained at the gtore.
Cooked Meats and Pastry should be
Ordered the day before needed.