Barbour County index. [volume] (Medicine Lodge, Kan.) 1880-current, 1889-12-11

ley was man well-to-dO in the world,
and during the long, lonely ride through
the woods to the station he thought q
good deal about Matilda and Mr.. Upton.
81 want her to be happy" said the
deacon to himself. "But she's all I've
got, 'Tilda is, and it would hurt me
pretty bad to have her become the vic
tim of fortune-hunter. If only there
was way of finding out who and what
the man is before 'Tilda is married to
him hard and fastr'
At the Marmontel Bank Mr.. Hawley
met an old friend, Rev. Curtis Copley,
once a starving country curate, now >
plump and well-to-do city minister, in
sleek and shining broadcloth, black
kid gloves and a sealskin mufher. They
shook hands heartily.
"S'pose you know a lot of people
around town, Copley?" said the deacon.
"Well-a few, perhaps" mildly sd-
mitted the reverend gentleman.
"Know a man by the name of Upton
james Upton?" pursued Deacon Haw-
ley.
"Do you mean the editor-the author
of ST. Sigmunda's Dream2'" said Copley.
Exactly said the deacon, clapping
his hand upon his thigh.
"Oh, very WE'LL" said Mr.. Copley. "In
fact, quite Intimately. Would you like
an introduction to him?"
"Eh?" said the deacon.
'T am writing series of ecclesiastical
papers for his magazine" said Mr.. Cop
ley, with modest pride. 81 was intend
ing to call at his Office this morning, in
any event. Would you like to 60 with
me?"
"Yes," said the deacon, with empha-
sis, 81 would"
''If you've never seen publishing
house." said Mr.. Cop1ey, 81 think twill
interest YOU"
As they walked along the street Mr.
Copley talked after sociable fashion,
but the deacon's answers were few and
distracted. He was wondering how it
could possibly be that Mr.. James Upton
could be at Hazel Grange and in New
York at the same time.
The deacon was nearly struck dumb
when he came into the great, noisy.
high-ceiled place, where the ''elankI
clank!" of revolving engines kept up an
undertone of sound, and there were more
books and papers piled up on desks,
counters and shelves than ever the dea-
con had dreamed of. Printers, with
grimy faces and flying fingers, stood at
their composing cases; little devils"
few up and down; proof-readers bent
over their desks, and wood engravers
toiled behind magnifying glasses. And
while Deacon Hawley stared, in came .
plump, bald-headed man of forty, with 8
jet-black mustache and eyes to match.
Upton" said Mr.. Copley, "this is my
friend, Mr.. Hawley, of Hazel Grange.
Deacon, allow me to introduce Mr.. Up
ton"
"Glad to meet you, sir; glad to meet
you" said Mr.. Upton, cordially wiring
ing the deacon's mittened hand.
but, 1 say" CALCULATED the deacon,
''you're the wrong manF'
"Sirr' said Mr.. Upton, in surprise.
''Or else the other man is" explained
the deacon. There's person at Hazel
Grange who calls himself James Upton,
and declares that he is the journalist and
author"
"Ahr' said Mr.. Upton, his quick,
black eyes becoming gravely intent all
of sudden. ''What sort of q man Is
hep
Not in the least like you," said the
deacon. Tall and dark, with clean
shaven face, and regular pair of Ian
tern jaws. One of those fellows who is
always bowling and scraping and getting
behind doors"
81 see," said Mr.. Upton, quietly open
ing desk and taking out . photograph.
SIS he any thing like tAiss''
The deacon brought his closed hand
down on the lid of the desk with an en-
ergy which had well-nigh split the board
in twain.
''The very oner' roared he.
''He is an impostor," said the journal
ist, curtly. ''Arrant scoundrel! 1 knew
him of old. He was discharged from
this Office year ago."
Hes making love to my daughter. /"
said the deacon.
'sIs hep" said Mr.. Upton s'It's . way
he has of amusing himself. He often
does It. He has two living wives alxeadY