The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1890-01-26


his hand and took 'em onseen, reckon.
That's more awful to me than to see them
going the usual road--iirst corpses and
then crumblin' bones. And there's been
no word Of him sence7'
NO, none; and that is five year ago
five year this October since he went
out Of the door, as it might be there, say
ing, I'm going to bring something to
you-to you and Joe. Leonard nd hev
brought it if he'd been alive. He'd hev
sent tidin's, if it was his last breath, to
one of them as waited for him. he'd
faith in the boy" shaking his head.
THE police, now-I reckon you tried
them? People alius do with nod az
could pardon it.
'Of course. Wouldn't you have recon-
mended It Tifflins'
They found no traces, I'll ventura
no They sarched al likely and on
likely places. And. Joe-for more nor a
year he let his business go by the board
did what could, but it was of no use.
.sTher was one, you said, he would
have sent tidin's to?"
'sShe's Their. She's waitin' for him vet
to keep bis promise. I'd rather not talk
about her." Ben was silent for mo-
ment, and then resumed in an altered
tone: "Ther was one clew. There was
an oldish, wizened lookin' man, that
Leonard had been seen with in the
city day or two before; sarch was
made for him, but he never was seen af-
terward. Their was them as said he he'd
made way with the boy"
81 hewitt a doubt of it. / hev my own
opinion about these onaccountable dis
appearances draining his glass with
mysterious nod. "When theirs common
robbery it comes out. an when theirs
common murder 1t comes out. But when
old Death puts on human shape an goes
about layin' on his hand, now here. now
there, them he touches vanishes in day
light, an theirs nothin' heard of them
again. You heerd of that strange man
that was seen goin' from town to town
in '32, and the cholery follered him like
bloodhound its master"
NO. with SILVER. ssThen you
thing
How do you know that the man seen
| Will young EIedkn was u luAlll
Tifiin's views were dreary and chilly,
even over bottle of double XXX and the
savoriest of fried oysters. Ben Jagged
in his talk, and presently stopped for his
stick, leaving his supper to grow cold,
and babe the corporal good night.
Winny would be waiting for him, he
| knew.
They had been living for only week
in town, and this was the sergeant's first
onslaught into the dissipation of city
life. He stumped along the narrow
streets in the suburb into the unfre-
| quented road leading to the low, red
brick house, with its half dozen porches,
whose windows were sending cheerful
glinmer from the top of the hill. That
was Joe's house. Just a week ago hs
and Bessy mad carried out their old
scheme, and had moved into the out
skirts of Philadelphia, buying this farm
house and its two or three acres round
about. Not a stones throw off, in the
orchard, there was the stone cottage
into which Winny and Uncle Ben had
Struggled down with their old furniture
and big fires and plaster busts and
simple, hearty, old fashioned ways that
made home out of the place in day.
1t was matter of course that they
should come with Joe and Bessy, who
had drawn them closer TO them by de-
grees, for years trying TO fll up the gap
in the girls life with their own home
| affairs their children, their watchful
love of her. The first plan was that the
sergeant and Winny should share the
house with them, bat Winny rebelled.
1--WE Inust have room for our plaster
work, Uncle Ben and /, she said; land
room for our sober, huindrum ways.
1t would not be best for US TO live with
you, Bessy."
So, with her savings (for the paddle
had kept the wolf clear ont of eight, she
bought this cottage joint stock con-
Germ with her and Ben. He had been
at work for weeks, patching fences,
painting every bit of wood susceptible
Of paint, to the very cowshed. Today
the Last triumphant nail had been driven.
Winny had put down her green rag car
pet and tackled her last curtain, and Joe
and Bessy were coming over for a house
warming tea.
Ben Stu0ped ElOug the pcatd Walk,
whistling cheerily, his old heart beating
time under his thin ribs. He had gone
to town for some pepper pot, as deli
/ cate surprise to add to the sntertain-
ment. when ne fell in with Tiffiin, and
was beguiled into the ghostly story of
Leonard Heath. He logged on faster to
| put it out of his mind. 1t was more
ghnstly than death to remember. There
were times when he fancied it was al
ways present 10 wlnny, though, even TO
1 him, for years she had not mentioned
Leonard's name.
He saw her now In the open door,
through which the freight streamed out
warmly into the night. "All right Win
ayr he called. At which she nodded
brightly and went in.
"Ther's none kin ill the old mans
place to her." he said, as he made short
cut through the privet bushes to the
door. "She keeps a frightened sort of
watch on me, as though tod light dis
appear and leave her alone. Good Lordl'
He stopped short, looking about the gar
den and fields beyond. from which the
late October chill and damp drew heavy
scents, sweet and tainted with de-
! cav ssIf,s fha vary 1ovf E;wa