Litchfield enquirer., 1875-10-14
LuMLEY'S PARDNER.

LG
 have forgotten the name he brough with him from the States, for nobody her ever called him anything else but 'Lum ley's Farther"
 We miners have familiar knack of re christening, and a name once altered sticks to man as long as he sticks to tn mine; so even after Lumley had throwl up his claim and left the diggings, goot three years ago, Lumley's Pardner stil remained, a finger post to trace the dis tance back. After all, John Jones, O Lumley's Pardner, what mattered it, il that doubtful tide of immigration setting in toward the wild regions. where tn first confidential question. after intimacy seemed to warrant the liberty. was inva riably, "Saay, comrade. what was you name before you came
 You see, knew Lumley's Pardner wher he first came into the mines. l was up al WooGis Diggins at the time, and he and . party of t3o or three more came around prospecting. Iremember T thought wha a fine, stalwart young fellow he was straight as young pine tree, and no fool ishness about him either, for he had beer roughing it year or two down on the Texas border. I never saw the boys more downright pleased over new.com thar when he bought claim and went in witl us. He was not q man to talk much about himself, nor cue you would fee free to question but there was honest square dealing looking out of his clear gray eyes, for all the trouble and unrest laid up behind them.
 Lumley was as different as Q man could be. have often noticed that men take to unlikes in mating for life. He came into the diggings a week or so later, and they somehow fell in together. Lumley was what you might call an extra clever fellow. He looked scarcely more than g boy-these fair-skinned people never show their age-with his handsome, womanish face, bright blue eyes, and trim-built fig. ure but he had confidence until you could not rest, plenty of the gift of gab and something about him-I believe peo. pie call it magnetism at least, when you were with him you believed just as he did, and then wondered at yourself after. ward for doing so.
 a Lumley always had mack of twisting folks round his little finger for all that, the lines of firmness were quite lacking uUOut HIS LuUutu. Autuicy x oTOucT uOW, with his close-set lips and square, massive iaw-you might as we'll hope to move a mountain as him against his will. He would be strong to do or bear you could easily see that.
 do not know as it was exactly fair I never meant to eavesdrop. but it happen ed in this wise One night. went over to Lumley's shanty it was amazing strange how soon his name got tackled to see about a broken pick he wanted mended. I used to do the smithing. in those days. As opened the door saw there was no one in, being tired with my days work. l dropped down on a log just outside, lit my pipe, and sat leaning back against the pine boards wait ing for Lumley to come back. guess I must have got drowsy and fallen asleep, for the first thing heard was voices, and Lumley's Pardner speaking out bitter and short, in a way we seldom heard him speak. 1r
 'I reckon it's of no use to ask if there's any letters come to my name." he said There's no one to write to me. ..
 rubbed open my eyes and saw two gleams of light streaming out through the open door and one loop-hole of window, and then knew that Lumley and his mate must have passed me by and never seen me in the twilight. Raising myself up. l saw Lumley through the window, sitting down to the pine table beside Q yellow dip, with two or three letters lying before him, and one open in his hand. Then 1t flashed across my mind that one of the boys from a camp beyond had gone into the station and was due with the mail that night.
 Lumley's Pardner sat over the far side of the table with a gloomy look in his eye. Being in the same boat myself, I knew how lonesome it was never to have news from home, and wondered to myself how a manly, fne-looking fellow like him should be without a wife or sweetheart waiting with 0 woman's pride in him 
 Lumley was busy reading his letters. thought had better stay outside. He was that intent at first that he seemed not to have heard the others words. but after D moment he lifted his face with one of the proud, bright looks that were Lum- ley's own. ''Ay comrade !" he cried, cheerily "and don't tell me it isn't all your own fault Don't dare to envy me my wlte and child. There was no reply but, looking over, saw such bitter, sorrowful look on the face of Lumley's Pardner that, scarcely knowing what was doing, stood and and pitied him. heard Lumley read aloud. words of love and trust, watch ing and waiting, and of happiness in him and the child. saw his face as he read He might be a weak man, but he loved the woman and the child. From the last letter there dropped out carte de visite. caught it up with boyish eager- ness.
 .'Old pard P he cried, 'you shall see my two treasures. Here they are-Lulie and the boy"
 He tossed the picture across the table. The other picked it up. I saw a man die once, stabbed through the heart. Just such look came into the face of Lum. ley's Pardner as he glanced at that picture in his hand. Lumley, bending over his letter never saw it. When he had finished reading he held out his hand. The other did not even raise his eyes, but kept them fxedly on what he held. 'aa.
 ''I, too, once thought to have a wife and child, he muttered presently, less to Lumley than to himself.
 The words following that look were a whole book of revelation to me. Happily, Lumley did not notice. His face showed some surprise, mingled with that placid satisfaction the successful man always wears.
 "Ah r he returned. shaking his head kno~ingly, ''is that the way the land lies; I knew you were always close mouthed but e disappointment-I never suspected that. She, whoever it was. had preciou. bad taste when she looked the other way and he ran his eye admiringly over Ms over the others splendid proportions ana manly, handsome face.
 ''She never refused me-" broke in Lum ley's Pardner. ID low, smothered tone his eyes still fastened intently on the pic ture. "T-never asked her; but she kney
 my mind, and thought I knew hers was sure she would wait until I cam,
 back. It was for her I went away.'
 ''But you wrote to herr" questioned Lumley, with genuine interest.
 ''Not a word-not line. lam a poo scribe. But she knew me we'll enougl to need no written assurance of my inten
 tions. Every day would be lived for her
 There could be no doubt of that in he