The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1886-05-07

sell, ana had not her husband made
the BarDadian home a paradise for
her? He had not left her rich, but he
had LETT q competence; surely for Bess,
she could be content if her life were
only as good as her own had been!
But she cried a bit over the making OF
the girls wedding clothes.
The Shore House looked somewhat
desolate. The gay flowers had
gone from the garden, the trees were
leatiess, snow lay grimy on the barges
outside the high wall; beyond was the
slow, heavy black river, and again be-
yond it was sharper blackness on the
farther bank, where mountains of piled
Goals were waiting to be towed down
the stream. Mrs. Lane sat sewing by
herself. All the girls were out that
afternoon, Bess making rounds in her
district for the last time, the other
two shopping in town.
A young maid opened the door and
asked if her mistress 'would have
some tea Or waitfort the youngladies."
ooh, wait-certainly watt what
did the mother want with tea or any
were all away?
She stitched on, and thoughts we're
plenty. Had she really done wrong
by fixing herself in the Shore House?
Would thegirls really haveh had bright
er chances, if she had carried them to
a mole fashionable locality? Her sis
ter Mary was wise-worldly-wise. And
she looked round on the spacious,
dear old room. How the old furni-
ture looked just the thing in it, how
the very shabbiness Of the deep Grim
son draparies looked venerable and
respectable in such a spacious dignity
OF a room! No, she could not have
been wrong.
So she unused, comforting and wor-
rying her soul by turns.
Then the girls came in, and very
soon Michael Clint came too, and
there was no more dreaming over
good or i'll, but in its place glad, hope
full planning.
Clint had been from the Saturday
to the Monday down at his godfa-
theirs, in Northamptonshire. This
was only Monday evening, and he was
full of all he had seen and done. He
had q bright way with him; he could
tell a story we'll, and he could make
amusing pictures out OF very small
suggestions.
One thing we have to pick out of all
OF his telling, because it fits into what
we are trying to give as the story Of
the Shore House.
"a very goblin chamber" he had
said.
"Why a goblin chamber? Did you
see anything" Nan asked.
"No; but l heard"
"Oh!"
"Rats-nothing more. Do Iseemto
you the sort of man who would be-
lleve in ghosts?" and he drew up his
tall figure, making the most Of his
broad chest, and taking a step or two
across the hearthrug.
do | presume to know the hidden
beliefs of-of-your inner self" laughed
Nan.
"Nobly expressed, my dear!"
Don't squabble, you two," Bess
commanded gaily. "Just describe the
goblin chamber. Was it like this?
with the gas turned down, and the
barges on the river creaking as they
do on a windy night, this is a~sghostly
as you please"
Hum! | never saw is in that light.
But you may be right" ard the young
man began critically to look at the
antique curiosities of the room-at
the black old mantel, and the high
wainscot; at the piedmont over the
door, at the deep recesses OF each side
OF the fireplace.
"Waddon Croft may be older-I
can't say. But there's more than one
room wonderfully like this"
"And we may have a CHEST! How
highly respectable?"
But the goblin chamber" Nan
What's the story?"
GA murder, and a ghost, and a hid
den treasure-they are all in itv'
"Perfect!" Nan clapped her hands.
"Anddoes heghostguar the hidden
treasure, or did the murderer carry it
OFF," Maud put in, not quite so gaily
as the Others had been speaking.
"Tll get the details all correct for
you thenext time l 60 down. You see,
the point that interested me most
was where the ghost points out the
place Of the hidden treasure. I'd like
just such another ghost to come to
me-. We could do with a bag of gold,
could we not, old LADY," this to Bess.
l wish you could have heard old
Harper tell the story; he was quite
dramatic. l wonder whether many
houses were built with those secret
cupboards; do you thinkyou have one
here, Mrs. Lane?"
"Oh NO, l should say not"
Let us try, mumsie!" Bess cried.
Clint took up an umbrella belonging
to one ofthe girls, and using its handle
as a hammer, went knocking by the
side OF the old black msntel.
What do you want to hear?" Nan
inquired. "The clink of gold?"
very much" he answered; "but
first, ! want a hollow sound-there is
only hard brick there. Let us try the
other sids." He moved from the left
to the right-hand side, pushing aside
a big cushioned easy-chair, and stand
Ing well in the deep recess. Then he
again began hammering. Hard, echo
less brick-lower on, the same. Then
a foot more inwards, brick still. All!
The sound changed. There was
wood, and an unmistakable hollow
sound.
"Mumsie!" was Bess' ejaculation,
and sheclutched at her mothers arm.
Clint felt the wainscot with critical
fngertips. Again he tapped, and
again he felt on both sides of the
chimney.
The two sides were not alike.
Most decidedly there was a hollow
space on the right side.
Mrs. Lanes calmness was over
ruled altogether, and to rest as they
had done was no longer q possibility.
There was IL hidden cupboard, and
in the cupboard was q paper packet.
On it was written in the smallest
writing: