The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1883-10-05
THE PRESTON TREASURE.
by FRANK H. CONVERSE,

The widow Preston's new boarder
was named Dorman-Charles II. Dor
man. He was a good looking, mild.
hammered young man, reticent of speech
and given to solitude. He had briefly
explained on his arrival that preferring
comfort to style, he had chosen the
quiet sea-board village of Covert, in
preference to Mt. Desert, which lays q
few miles further east, as a place in
which to spend his summer vacation.
Pretty Polly Preston had an idea of her
own, that money considerations might
also have influenced his choice. For
Polly had decided that young Mr.. Dor
man was not over burdened with this
worlds goods, for the reason that he
habituahy wore a suit of tweed which
showed marks of hard service, and also
smoked a brier pipe in his long strolls
on the beach. And Polly considered
shabby clothing and pipe-smoking, the
inevitable concomitants of genteel
poverty.
Mrs. Preston and Polly we're not, them
selves, abonndingi in riches. They owned
the quaint old square-rooted house
built in revolutionary days, and lived
on the interest OF the life insurance of
Captain Preston, the deceased husband,
who had been lost at sea soneyears be
fore. They had a COW, some liens, and
g small vegetable garden cultiv tied ION
shares" by Joe Millner, who regarded
pretty Poly with admiring eyes, AS i'm
deed. did all the eligible young men in
Covert. For Polly was as good as she
was pretty, and as apable as she was
good-which is saying considerable.
The young lady in que ton was poking
about the pansy bed, on q particularly
bright June morning. about a fortnight
after Mir Dorman's arrival. The young
mau, himself, Was standing irresolutely
about the porch In a sort o brown study.
Before him lay the harbor with it's an
chored vessels. and beyond the far
reaching sea, whose distant sounding
voice filled the summer air like the
murmur o. a shell. The soft south wind
rustled the syrlnga and lilac bushes, and
whispered u%nutterable suggestions in
Polly's little pink ear, as she bent over
the quaint faced flowers.
"Oh, isn't il lovely" Involuntary ex-
claimed Polly, standing upright with a
great sigh o. enjoyment. Polly means
the mornlng-her surroundings, and the
pleasure of feeling that one is in exist
ence on a charming June day.
But Mr.. Dorman. who answered Sin
deed it is," with such fervor as to quite
surprise the young lady, meant Polly
herself. For instead of having been en-
lmpOiife young man had been secretly
ofy1IVJnU tho mora ffrurfyt,a yy1f ,rn Nf
Polly, whose soft dark eyes and pr
Quante face were shaded by a most be-
coming garden hat, fashioned and
trimmed by her own def fingers.
And Polly, who at his reply had looked
up father wonderingly, blushed like a
tea rose, as she caught his respectfully
admiring gaze bent fully upon herself.
while Mr.. Dorman colored like a peoLv.
at being thus detected.
"1-a-beg your pardon-what, a-a-very
old house, this seems to be,"he STAN
mered with hasty ~irreIeyance, rs he
glanced upward ut the old time building
with it's small windows and one enor-
nous chimney at the very apex of the
roof.
And Polly, who had seer something
in the speakers eyes that caused a cur
ious futtering in the region Of her heart,
Sdll ytS-tI llHu bctu Dullt more IMAM
100 years, she believed. And then, to
cover her momentary confusion of face,
she hurridIy went on to relate the tam
lily legend, devoutly believed in by rem
era'ions of bvgone Prestons, which was
briefly, to this effect: Old Arnold Pres
ton, the original founder of the house,
had heen a man of great wealth and mis-
erly habits. He was a sort of local money
lender in colonial DAYS, and kept a large
store Of money by him. But one nignt
Covert was attacked By Indians under
the leadership of King Philip, and Old
Arnold, who in dire apprehension had
concealed his gold SO newhere about the
premises, was shot through the heart by
an Indian arrow, while his family were
taken away into captivity. Every sue
ceeding generation of Prestons had
made i search throughout the
old nuildin& bit the hid
den treasure had never been
discovered.
Such, in substance, was the story lis
tened to by Doraan with eager intent
ness. not 80 much by reason Of its OBJ
sorbing interest, as for the sake of the
fair narrator who stood resting ner sim
hand on the rose treliis, MS she talked
the fairest flower of all the garden-so
said the young maj to his own heart.
cob, dear, l wish we could fad it," re.
marked Polly with frank simplicity as
she concluded her recital, sit must be so