The Cheyenne daily leader. [volume] (Cheyenne, Wyo.) 1870-1884, 1883-11-11

took him up to my room In the hotel. I was
Ia a hurry to get at the business part of my
visit with him first; for It seemed to me that
it would be better to let him see, to begin
with, tha. I was not exactly poor, nor such
an ungrateful cub as maybe he had thought
] was. / was resolved that before we talked
of anything else l would get that money of
my conscience. / knew that then /
could hold up my head and discuss our
neighborhood and old times, and it
would be plain sailing for me. had pic
tured To my mind a dozen times how Uncle
Jason would look with that new yellow buck
skin bag crammed with gold on his knee,
steadying 1t with his hand and talking to me.
So when ! got him to my room, and seated
him in a chair, l began the performance. |
got red In the face, and spluttered, and -four
ished round with the bag and the gold and,
TO tell tho truth, i fully expected to make the
Old mans hair rise right up. But IL did not
work He got shaky and trembIed, and
somehow did not seem to want the money at
all, and finally owned how it was. He said
that he had never given me a cent; it was
all Lucy Cary's doing. And she had made
him promise, on his everlasting Bible oath,
as he called it, that he would not tell. She
had put him up to the whole thing; even
that first s2 bill had come from her wages
49, O1 1th1l RtdhIhh nc
was becoming flushed and excited. He
gazed abstractedly at the broad blue mirror
Of old Champlain, upon which he and ! had
looked together so often in the days OF our
youth.
MI pember sat silently. Mrs. Pember was
whimpering behind her handkerchief
ventured the inquiry, "Have you seen
Lucy yetf'
Tompkins' face qulvered; be was silent.
Mrs. Pember's interest in the question re-
stored her. TELL us. have you seen herr
she asked.
81 heard of it yesterday" Tompkins re-
piled huskily, with an effort.
'Why. Timothy, what is the matterr' cried
Mrs. Pember rising from her seat ADD coming
10 him. as he bent his head and buried his
face In his hands. The motherly woman took
on his soft hat, and stroking his hair, said:
you had better tell; it will do you good. "
And then she put his hat on again, and stool
wiplng her eyes in sympathy, while he strug-
gled with himself.
The storm of feeling passed away, and
Tompkins, having gained control of his emo
tion, slowly lifted his face from his hands,
md sat p~eering out under his hat brim, look
lug apparently at a boat upon the lake. At
last he said, in a calm voice, 'She is dead"
1t was very still after this announcement.
The softest breath of June scarcely whispered
in the pines overhead, and the vast landscape
below seemed strangely at rest in the fervid
brightness of the summer noon.
Ny old classmate was the first to break the
silence.
Well" said he, YEARLY, at must he about
time for dinner. Let us go to the hotel"
We took the little brown road and walked
down a long, shaded, quiet street. Memories
VI college days and romantic summer nights,
with music and starlight, and the long, long
thoughts of youth came back to me as l
looked at the houses and gardens familiar in
college days, and chatted about them with
Mrs. Pember.
Timothy always means well" said she to
me c~onhdentially, reverting to tho subject OF
which VIC were all thinking, "but it was very
wrong for him TO neglect that poor factory
girl; don't you think sofn