The Manning times. [volume] (Manning, Clarendon County, S.C.) 1884-current, 1888-08-09

'Ogre, DEAR" said his wife, apparently in
the act of expanding her large person W
place before him, ''the man will shoot"
''Let me open the door," said Gurley.
'sIopen my own door, sir,' interposed the
master.
s.Now, you scoundrel, what DO you want
this times"
He made heavy dash at the person on
the step, recovering himself with difficulty.
Those inside saw it was man quite
clean-shaven excepting his upper lip; that
his clothes We're black, tine and old-fash-
isned; and though he held his tall hat IN
one hand Us he recoiled from the masters
onset, the hat had evidently been lifted be-
fore the door opened and his recoil meant
surprise.
"Oh" Mr.. Barker snarled suspiciously.
"Good evening, good evening, sir. Good
evening"
The stranger made soue response in a
nasal blur of words, concluding with an
eager question.
Mr.. Barker turned toward the other in.
mates, his fierceness cooled to the telnpera-
ture of combatireness.
''Is this man speaking Latin with the con-
tinental pronunciation, Gurley, or is 1t
Welsha''
Step in, SIR" invited Mrs. Barker.
"Ogre, perhaps the door better be shut"
THE door will not be Shut" responded
her husband, until this man can iH.ciliglby
state his business"
1T is Painter Good evening, Mr..
Painter" said Gurley.
Painter, seeing Phoebe, stepped upon the
sill with an exclamation.
During the rest of her life, when she tried
to set the action OF the next FIVE minutes IN
its true light, and to see the facts as they
occurred by the clock instead Of through the
medium Of a terror which had no regard for
time, she thought Mrs. Barker exclaimed
that the other man was behind this one;
that Painter turned, sawThane and seized
him; then they struggled together without
apparent reason; that she ran and hid her
face in the lounge pillow; and shot, the
voices Of Gurley and the master, aud the
bounding steps of some one running away
all mingled together.
Mrs. Barker looked ghastly when Painter
was laid on the lounge. Phoebe herself sat
a moment on the floor beside the lounge.
She heard Gurley ride OF for physician
and officers Of justice.
Afterwards she waited by the kitchen
stove while Mr.. Barker and his wife attend
ed to the wounded man. There was no fire
in the stove, but she could see the hearth
shine through the open sitting-room door,
and count bricks along the front OF the
chimney.
Here Mrs. Barker brought her q bit OF
paper and in agitation told her that Painter
wrote it and sent it. She bent toward the
distant irehght to make ont the characters,
and noticed that though traced by an un-
steady hand they were clear and beautiful.
At first merely the name James Fawcett
attracted her; then she walked to the fire
place intent only on reading what was
written, and il was: "You are my child
James Fawcett."
'sNep said Phoebe, turning toward the
wounded man and questioning him with
negatives: ''Not MOI"
One Of Mrs. Barker's quilts covered him
up to the armpits. He was looking at
Phoebe with wide open and agonned blue
eyes, His sensitive lower face she saw was
like the portrait in the Fswcett library.
''Nop she repeated, twisting the paper in
her fingers, 'l!''
He nodded his head, and besought her by
a gesture to come nearer. In his hands
were pencil and paper tablets which Mrs.
Barker had taken out Of his pocket for him.
he was shot through the body, and the
doctor, brought later by Gurley, could do
little more for him than had already been
done.
Mr.. Barker sat near his patients feet, rug
gedly silent and stern as if justice were gath
ering all forces in him. His wife held light,
resting her elbow in her palm, and looked
anxiously from Phoebe to the wounded man.
She stood behind his head and let her lamp
shine on his tablets. Sometime during the
confusion Orcutt had been walked. Phoebe
remembered hearing his mother command
bis return to bed.
As Painter beckoned again Phoebe went
to him, not reluctant but unconvinced, and
rested on the floor looking at him.
His hand few from side to side Of his tab
let's, and when he gave them to her Mrs
Barker moved q step to shift the light.
eIr 7 tried to talk" he said on paper, "you
could not understand my voice. My deform-
ity san mortiies me so I can not bear to
display it before my child used to talk
thus to your mother. We had long, silent con-
yersations, sitting side by side Her name was
Phoebe. You are her over again, little ex-
panded. Do you rapember when yon
brought me the maple sugar"
Instead OF replying aloud Phoebe took
bis pencil and wrote:
'Yes. But why have you been away from
me always?"
he put swiftly down, because thought
you were dead. When you care to me
with that maple sugar was startled, and
ny thoughts began to work. Shen heard
your name was Phoebe White found the
boy Thorney was with you. Still had no
certain proof until this afternoon when l
read note you had sent by boy through
the woods. unfolded it as some trifiing
property Of his, and read your history, even
to Thane Whites name. Then l got ready
to come after you. bTought in my breast
pocket the papers which will identify me.
went to the house nearest the school-house
where l knew you lived; but they could not
hnd you So, as you had written to Mr.
Barker for help, came directly here. You
are my child, and your name is Ph9be Faw-
eett. You were born eighteen years ago IN
San Francisco, and your mother died when
you were two-and-a-half years old. Ispent
much time in Nevada, where was interest
ed in mines. Your mother was devoted 70
me. l took pleasure in enterprise then.
l left home when q boy, determined to make
my family proud Of me when came back,
in spite Of my defect. 1t turned out dill
Ierently. l have lived here il the woods,
not caring even to claim my rights IN the
estate There was no one to inherit after