The Wahpeton times., 1889-08-08
APIoUs FRAUD.
BY HELEN FOREST GRAVES.

BY HELEN FOREST GRAVES.
Saturday Night.
"Does Mrs. Murray live here2"
Mr.. Webb knocked apologeti:ally on
the glass counter of the bakery with
the handle of his whip. It seemed
almost q liberty thus unceremonious-
ly to address tho gaily attired young
woman who was adding up the &C.
counts behind the tall desk.
He stood near the door, keeping q
sharp lookout on the barefooted boy
who was holding his sleepy old horse
for had he not heard, many time
and oft, Of the juvenile New York4
In reply to his respectful question,
the young woman nodded her head
and curtly answered:
Cup stairs"
otis q pretty big house." said Mr..
Webb, glancing about him. ''The
Murrays wasn't rich when they lived
down our way; but Rachel never had
good judgment. I should aay, now,
the rent OF a house like this
1T amt a house." said the young
woman, speaking with a lead pencil
between her teeth.
"Ain't a house, eh!" Martin Webb's
honest. onion-splored eyes gradually
expanded, until you would have
thought the lids could scarcely con-
tain them. "Not-a house1" ."
mo; it's q fat. Fourth story,
back room. Name OF Murray. Stair.
case just out in the hall there"
And so for the first time in his life,
Mr.. Webb found himself in the pre-.
cincts OF a 'flat."
Hel lost his way hall. q dozen OF times
this gaunt, good.humored giant, with
q ham in his arms, two or three
strings Of country sausage over his
shoulder, and q basket of red apples
clasped tightly against his breast.
That was a matter of course.
He walked into the kitchen OF one
fat, brought up IN the parlor of anoth-
or, and presented himself, smiling, at the
late breakfast table OF q third, where,
q luckless printer, who worked all
night, on the early edition OF q morn
ing paper, was sleepily chipping the
the shells Of an egg.
NCall thenn oooa9,S co;1 Nfort;v 40.
temptuously. "H our Volts Corners
hens can't beat that ERE sort % thing
But am sure ask pardon; I guess
I've got into the wrong fiat. P'r'aps
you can tell me where q lady named
Murray lives?',
And by dint Of many such question.
ings and inquiries, Mr.. Webb at last
got himself, his red apples, ham and
sausages into q scantily furnished
room looking out on q bare brick wall
"a room where everything had q
starved look, even down to the cat,
which sat intently watching q mouse
hole in the wainscoting.
MS. Murray, q tall, pinched. elder
ly woman, was engaged, through q
double pair of spectacles, in mendine
fine laces, but the slow motion of her
needle, and the uncertain. expression
OF her face, denoted no very brilliant
success.
And seated on the window ledge op-
posite her, ariding habit of dark green
cloth, beaver hat with dark green
veil twisted around it, and q iaunty
little ivory handled whip, was q pret.
ty girl of 16 or 20.
T Both started at the entrance of
Mr.. Webb, both smiled glad recogni-
tion.
why" cried Mrs. Murray. it's
cousin Martin! :Hilda.. dive your cous.
in . chair declare, Martin, / am sur.
prised to see you here!
"No more'n ! to get here, I guess"
returned the farmer, with q peculiar
chuckling noise down in his throat.
"These ere city folks, they do take
the starch Quten q fellow. Amt
much like our medder fats down at
Volts Corner. eh' Here. cousin
Rachel, I've brung ye one Of ELIAS
best sugar-cured hams an some
sassages, and q bushel of the apples
that growed on the tree beyond the
we'll the real, red.cheeked Josev
Moore's you know"
otis very kind of you, I'm sure"
said Mrs. Murray. "Hilda, can you
not offer our cousin some refreshments
after his journey?"
Hilda colored painfully. How could
she explain to her mother that the
cupboard was utterly empty, even OF
Q crust Of bread?
"l'll bring up something directly"
she murmured.
And then she vanished.
From one good neighbor-the very
printers wife, indeed-shs borrowed q
potful Of freshly made coffee; from an.
other, q few slices of cold boiled beef;
from third pan Of new-baked bis
cults, with q little butter aud q comb
OF honey, and then she few back to
spread the frugal meal.
care they all we'll. cousin Webb?"
she asked, timidly, as holding up her
riding habit with ono hand, she ar
ranged the table and ministered to the
appetite of her guest with the other.
Mr.. Webb nodded his head, keenly
surveying her the while.. -
"Al1 WE'LL" heresponded between the
swallows of coffee. "Eliza. she sent
her love. And Reed-no Reed didn't
send no love. But he wanted to be
specially remembered, Reed did. He's
had dreadful good luck with the sweet
potato patches and tobacco crops
this year"
"Has he?" and Hilda blushed rosily.
She might have added something