The Russellville Democrat., 1885-06-04


 her, went out walking or riding with though, like those of the girl in the old fairy tale, they were pearls. Rhody, when with the girl, became rather fnore cynical than ever, and delighted in making caustic remarks about her say ings and doings. It was this perhaps which hid his pass on from Tom, for the latter never imagined for moment that his pard cared anything about the girl. In fact Rhody's age. suddenly recol- lected by tie younger man, made Tom think him wholly out of the race. 1t must not be supposed that Tom imag ined his love as patent to every one ih the camp as have good naturedly made it Go yau. Nor was it. Despite the fact that lovers, being something like os- triches, think no one can see them if their heads be covered, Toms admira- tion, although very open, had not pro- cecded.to such lengths as to attract gen er;l notice. This was owing as much to Miss Mary's prudence, care, modesty call it what you villas to anything else. for she shrank instinctively from publicity in the matter. That she per sonally knew that Tom worshipped the ground she trod on I myself thoroughly believe Surely, she would have been no woman elsel
 One evening Tom and Rhody were sitting over their fire, smoking, after supper There had been silence in the room for some time, when Tom, stirring uneasily, broke it.
 Rhody, ol' man." he said.
 "What air up, Tom?" was the reply.
 "Thar's some,hin' 1-that is, I though6-you mout like to know-I mean eff you're interested, that is.
 "In course, Tom, I'm interested. Whats upP"
 "I kinder 'sposed you knew"
 "Knew what? Anything the matter with the assays, lad?"
 "Blame the assays! No!"
 "Wa'al. lad, don't take my head off. Whats up2 Grease the slides an let it fiickerr' and Rhody looked at Tom with smile.
 "I-er-the fact air-that ar-I'm in lover'
 "In love, lad? who with--the wid- der? She'll make good wife, Tom. y
 "The widder? No. Aint ther' TO other sides the widder Twin at tn foot O .h' hill?n
 Rhody started, and his face grew dark.
 You don't mean the school-marm, do ye?" he asked, in strangely altered voice.
 "I means just her! I love her, Rhody. better'n my life. Why, what s the matter?' he continued, glancing up at his partners face.
 Rhody got up from his seat and walked out of the cabin without speak ing. As he passed swiftly down the path, taking by habit the turn toward the widows house. his breast was full of conflicting feelings. A man of strong passions, and one who was not apt to let others take from him that which he claimed. his first feeling was one of bit ter anger. The information he had just received was shock to him; he had never thought of anything of the kind. It was little wonder that he should at first determine that this thing should not be. The thought flashed across his mind that he could drive Tom from the camp the next dawif he discharged him, because, as superintendent. he had SUI preme power. And with this idea came another-that if Mary was separated from Tom she might forget him. I think myself he was wrong in this; still he believed it. He exclaimed against the injustice of this thing He thought of his loneliness, of Tom S popularity with all men, and his own lack of it. He felt as though his partner was talk ing from him the only thing he cared fa,. nd ha net fiercely.
 By and by softer feelings began to find a place. He recollected how close Tom had been to him; how he had nursed Tom through the fever; and how dear the lad had grown during those long hours. He thought of his nob.e- ness and his courage, his truth and kindness. The hours passed swiftly by as Rhody walked taking little heed of the time. A bitter struggle'was fought out that night in that mans breast. but in the end his better nature conquered, he returned to the cabin exhausted mentally and bodily, but with his mind made up. When he came in Tom was asleep. and he stood there watching his face by the fickering freight. In his sleep Tom murmured two names, "Rhody" and Mary" anl his part ner's face softened as he listened. :
 The next morning he said:
 Tom, I've bin think:n' over what you told me last night, an dunno but what 'twould be a good thing. At any rate, lad, I'll help you"
 What made you leave so sudden like. ol' manp'
 "Oh, nothing. 1 kinder thought I'd like to go over the thing by myself, " was the answer, made lightly enough.
 Tom dd not know then nor after wards what his partner had done for him.
 Having Rhody's consent, LOT, rather, goodwill, Tom had a talk with Mary 1t was in the afternoon, when school was ended for the day. and the two were strolling along through the little valley just beyond the camp. What he said to her and what she said to him is of little or no consequence here, be- cause it would be, in the first place, stupid if repeated, interesting as it was to them; and. in the second place, it has nothing to do with the yarn. Be- sides, l do not know what was said, as 1 was not there. It is enough that Mary allowed Tom to understand that she was willing to marry him. This much was proved by the announce ment of the engagement, which was speedily made But just at this point arose the queerest difficulty. As I have said, the men in the camp looked upon the school-mistress as being one in