The Sully County watchman. (Clifton, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1894, 1888-11-10
A NOBLE VENGEANCE.


money, Virginia."
Charley Melton stood wistfully gaz-
ing into the fair oval face of the young
girl who stood on the bank above him,
her pure complexion rendered purer
and more delicate still by the moving
shadows of the leaves overhead.
"No Charley, do notr'
"Yet your father has turned me out
OF the house, and your mother has
called me thief!'
He shuddered as he pronounced the
words.
"It's some mistake, Charley-I'm
sure it is" she said earnestly.
'.And he struck me, Virginia." The
boys face grew scarlet, and his eyes
blazed. Yes, he struck me, Virginia!
/ shall live TO be revenged some day."
'Charley, don't talk SOL"
He turned away, the old hard look
which she so dreaded to see creeping
over his features like stormy veil.
you'll say good bye to me, Charley?"
the farmers daughter pleaded.
"Yes, III say goodbye, Virginia
"Where are you going. She
questioned.
81 don't know"
''Tou will starve!"
"And what thenp Who will care?"
II shall care, Charley"
"Snali you?' He turned away with
cad smile, and the memory of that
smile haunted Virginia Fairford for
years.
Farmer Fairford was sitting by the
fireless hearthstone when Virginia
came in, flushed and rosy with her
walk.
"Where have you been, grip" he de-
manded austerely.
ssTo look for the cows, father"
'tDid YOU find emp"
'.No, father"
s'I'll go myself
As MIR. Fairford pushed back his old
rockfng-chair. the red moreen cushion,
loosened fromits strings, slipped to the
floor. Virginia sprang forward with
low cry.
A crumpled five-pound bank-note lay
where it had slipped down under the
cushion, probably dropped by some
careless hand.
Virginia caught it up.
Father, see there
81 see,n said the farmer, moving one
foot uneasily over the floor.
''Father, Charley never took the
money"
mo; s'pose he didn't"
sand you called him thief. You
you struck him."
s'What else could do? What else
did s'pose had come of the money?
amt to blame," muttered the farmer
sullenly.
"And he was innocent all the time!
Oh. father, father! let me run after him
Jet me call him backr'
-. 81 don't care what you do,' said the
eld man conscience-stricken, and yet
not willing to own that he had done
wrong.
So Virginia sped forth into the twi-
light, swift and light-footed as young
deer.
If could only bring him back" !"
she gasped.
But all search was vain. Tho hour
of grace was past. and Virginia re-
turned weary, and pale, and heavy
eyed.
Didn't find him, ehe" questioned
the farmer.
mo, father"
"A good riddance, | say. l never
fancied the boy. A workhouse tramp
never wouldn't ha' come TO no good. :"
So Farmer Fairford dismissed the
matter from his mind.
And so when Alfred Fairford, COM
ing home to the old farm for his holi-
day, n month or so subsequently,
lamented the absence of Charley Mel
ton, who was such gay, cheerful
companion, no one ever mentioned his
name. Virginia alone remembered
him and mourned over his absence.
mo one knew Charley rs did, she
said to herself. "There was much good
in him. Oh. Heaven grant that some
friendly sunshine may foster the noble
impulses -poor Charley!n
And perhaps Virginia Fairford,s
prayers were heard.
The slow years crept by-she grew
fam fair girlhood into the full ma