Litchfield enquirer., 1875-05-27

anything. or do any mere routine work. Chris rwould lean over and say: Cant do thatg or, Let me write that, won't you? And Will, hnding him careful, and
 pleased to be allowed. let him do more
 and more, until by and by Chris became
 as regular in his duties and attendance as
 Birdsau himself, without ever word of agreement having passed between them. No paid service was ever more faithful
 than this labor of love. Will never thank
 ed him; in fact they hardly ever said
 much beyond the necessary converse of business, but he talked before Chris upon
 his most private affairs as if no one were
 by, and trusted him with anything he had
 So by degrees there grew up in the dull, rich young fellow, very great unspoken
 admiration and affection for hls taciturn friend. And so summer and winter came
 and passed, the tacit and mutual liking
 growing stronger, and Chris becoming
 more of a man than Will would have be-
 heved. The Messenger" did not suc-
 ceed more than tolerably; it was not s'spi- Icy nor servile toward the people or the politicians. Will had to rake and scrape
 to lay something for the new presses so
 badly needed, and finally had to buy them on part credit for three months. The
 tune of payment came round very quickly,
 and he was unable to get the money to- gether. He was good deal harassed for
 8 week or two before Chris knew what
 the trouble was, but Birdsall said nothing
 to him. The day before the note came
 due he missed Chris from the office. Will
 had collected all he could and was going
 the next day to pay that and try to get
 more time. It went hard with him to do
 this, but there was nothing else for 1t. He
 was buster that day on account of Mark
 hams absence. Late in the day he pick
 cd up the days paper, the Messenger" having already gone to press. The first thing he saw was this:
 l ssWML: I am in trouble. Come and help me. I will be at the stone church
 where we picnicked, at eight on Friday 1 evening. Do not fail. MABEL" l He crushed the paper into a drawer,
 hearing some one at the door. and Chris
 came in. He looked at Birdsall, and won-
 dered if anybody else ever took money matter like that.
 "I was in the city today" he sad. He fumbled round among papers at his
 usual place, and then picked up one or
 two on Birdsall's table, looked at them,
 laid them back, and went out. | There was a paper lying before Will
 that had not been there. and he picked it | up. It was his note to the press-makers,
 and their receipt in full.
 He got up. as if the paper stung him, l and went into the press-rOom. The printer
 had got the press to work and struck off a
 good many sheets. Will pushed him away,
 and bade him roughly to print the tickets of a concert
 They're all done, said the man. | snk
 ply.
 He pointed impatiently toward the small l foot-press, and took hold of the other him. 1 self. When Chris came in after supper.
 the building was quivering with the clang | and humping of the press. The compos-
 itor came out aLd asked him to go in and see the boss, saying the devil had got in-
 to him, md he didn't dare speak to him. Chris went in and looked at him in won- der. working away with all his might, and neither seeing nor hearing. Then Chris took hold of him and caught away the sheet he was about to print, and held it
 before his eyes, Ha
 Don't you see? It's been struck off once." he shouted 'tYou're sick; go home. now, and we'll attend to this. 9
 Will saw what he had been doing; he had only seen her face before, and heard her voice calling him, while his arms wrought nightly and blindIy, and like aimless striving wa9ed within him. He turned and took hold of Chris's arm in a weak kind of way. and said:
 ''Chris, I say"
 ed away and went ont He ran home and washed and dressed himsel. He walked the five miles to Vail's Landing, and caught the night boat. At Carthage he had to wait five hours for the train. The church she spoke of was at Bayhead; party of them had gone there once in a slOop on 8 summer cruise. The stone church stood apart on a hill between two hamIets. He was late; he heard the clock strike eight mile away. He stopped on the green before the church and looked about. As he turned his face in the moonlight he heard low cry, and Mabel appeared from the shadow of the deep doorway and came to him quick and futteriDg, as sheep hunted by dogs will run to you and hnddle close, trembling and breathless, and begging protection with mute, appealing eyes.
 ''Oh, oh, Will p' she cried, II was afraid it was not you- Oh, Pm so glad I've been so frightened ] I was so afraid you would not come"
 She trembled and would have fallen if he had not held her up. And sitting there on the doorstone of the lonely church, she told him incoherently and brokenIy how Grifiths, with his hateful, scared face, had been jogging her for months, meeting her everywhere, and soaring her in hun dred ways. until she was nearly ont of her mind. She had been in despair at last, and remembered Wills parting promise.to come to her aid at need.
 "And now you must take care of me, and tell me what to do. I've tried to go alone, and it's been so hard: You were always so good and strong, and I'm only a weak, foolish, frightened child I'm so tired and so glad p
 He stood up and looked to right and left eagerly, and she held him by the arm.
 5"Oh, Will P she pleaded, "you won't leave me? Say you'll stay and help me" ''Yes, yes" he answered with passion, reaching o6t his hands but not touching her. elf the scoundrel was here now I would kill him.
 ''No, no" she continued; ''don't mind him: ! don't care for that now. I'm not afraid of anything with you, you were al- ways so good and brave." For answer he took her hand under his very good, only half knowing what he said. and led her away.
 He walked crookedly along the road, and knew not whither it went. She thought him wise and strong, and he wondered if there were another In the would so weak l and so blind. If she only knew. Care and fear had chiseled her face, yet the long, tense strain of these late months had nearly cFaZed her. and the effect was as if
 she had grown younger by twice the time they parted. The trust she manifested to- ward him was more of the child than the
 woman unreseryed, instinctiye. He saw
 that, and it added pity to his stronger feelings, and made the battle in him more
 unequal. Woman or child, he could not
 but know that in her extremity she had
 chosen him, of all the world, to guide and shield her and that thnr1rht made the