The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1883-06-28

him.
One morning stranger strolled into
town and stopped at Pete's little shop to
ask his way. He was travelling to South
Geld. so he said.
"Where had he been?"
ooh, anywhere airily and jauntily;
travelling about the country. Might
take up with work somewhere, if found
any worth doing
Hard times" said Pete, looking
modify at the little red stove. Whats
your trader"
"I've been sailor" said the man fill
ing his pipe-a process Pete watched
greedily, for his own tobacco box was
empty. Twenty years before the mast.
should have been captain before this
but there's jealousies. So got sick
uf it. I call myself a landsman now"
! "You don't have the look of sailor"
sid Pete, his eyes travelling from the
! shabby fur cap and the dark face with
rather narrow, bold, black eyes down
over the shabby suit of brown.
| The man gave slight start and
| glanced at him keenly. "You don't think
so? Well, I've been on land some time
now. Salt waters easy to shake oft.
What might your name be?'
"Haydon-Pete Hayden"
"And mines Job Whettles. Queer
name, amt it? Don't believe there's an
other like it in the country. Good day,
mate. If I'm round this way again I'll
look in on you
And he did.
One day, as Pete was soldering milk
pail for Mrs. Burge, this time whistling
little, having work to whistle over, the
man came in without warning of rap or
voice.
Thought you's twenty-five miles away
afore this said Pete plying his iron.
| Take seat"
Things don't please me much over
that way" said the fellow pompously,
again beginning to cut his tobacco, per-
haps as cover to his furtive glauces. II
may stay round here for a spsll. Per-
| haps I'll do bit of work on somebody's
farm"
Cant get it," said Pete, briefly view
ing his completed work with approval.
Amt no farm work to be had just
now"
well, doing chores, I mean-light
work. Tn not particular how little I do
for my board" with a coarse laugh.
Folks dc their own work ronnd here,
said Pete. ''Some of 'em have got
money enough to pay, but they're able.
bodied, as it happens, and don't want
hired man round in the winter"
"Seems pity--don't it?-that things
can't be equally divided, so that you and
I could have our SHARE" said the
| stranger putting industrlously at his
pipe, but not forgetting to watch the
tinker. 81 should like to help myself to
somebody's pile; now, shouldn't you?
Honestly enough, of course, man. You
needn't jump. / mean, suppose the
young fellow that owns the big farm
over there Poysett?-- should say,
'Whettles, take half my bank stock. I
don't need it alp do you think l should
say MOP"
OF course the tinker laughed at the
fanciful notion. He was sunny tenn
pered fellow; it hardly needed very
bright thing to provoke his mirth.
Where Whettles stayed at night was q
mystery. Sometimes Pete suspected he
| might have slept in barn, he turned up
so touseled in the morning; often he
guessed that Toppan, the saloonkeeper,
had given him lodging, from the fumes
that fingered about nis shabby person.
He had money at times, for again and
| again he treated Pete to q cheering glass
of whisky. Pete was not used to fire.
quentng the saloon; he did not in the
least approve of it; but it happened that
about this time the evil bird of prey
sought his company more persistently
than did any more respectable person.
And Whettles was a sociable fellow; he
could tell more stories in half an hour
than any six of the honest people knew
J taken together. He was. so Pete ON
cluded, nobody's enemy but bis own. It
would take more time than you are will
ing to give, and q deeper knowledge OF
mental intricacies than possess, to de-
tail the process through which Pete was
brought to the point of promising to
creep into the Poysett farmhouse and
rife the old desk that stood between the
sitting room windows. The grocer's bill
was growing longer, his wife was paler,
and she worried him by entreaties to let
Whettles alone and forsake Toppan's;
the aggregate of such straws is not
small.
The opportunity came fitting the mood
rs exactly as if the mood had made it.
Frank Poysett was going to Boston to
meet John Wiley; the women folks"
would be alone.
You take Poysett's." said Whettles;
you know the lay of the land there; and
the same night I'll try Turner's. over on
the hill. Well meet somewhere about
l, down there under the big elm. and
a ~ y