The Irish standard., 1890-05-03
6OUARING THINGS.

SQUARING THINGS.
Eow a Sharp Schener Was Neat
~ Outwitted.
Herbert Denison placed up and down
the small room that had been the espe-
cial sanctum of his brother-in-law, Tom
Thorpe, his .brows knit in perplexed
thought, his fingers nervously rafting
his watch-chain. Jessie, his only sister,
Tom Thorpe's widow, was sobbing on
the sofa.
"Jessie, DEAR" he said, presently, sit
Is cruel to make you talk, but if l could
only get some really clear idea of the
business, might, perhaps, help you"
Jessie sat up, and tried to still the sobs
that the talk about her husband-not
yet a month dead-had called forth.
She was a woman with fair hair and
blue eyes, and young enough still to
make her deep widows mourning doubly
pathetic.
''About the house?" she said.
Eyes. You say it is almost paid for?''
'sThe price was six thousand dollars
for the house and grounds. There is
very large orchard and vegetable garden,
besides the garden in front. Tom was
to pay for it just as he could, but not
less than three hundred a year. We
were SO anxious to have home OF our
own, Bert, that we worked very hard
for it, and that is the reason know all
about it. put all my writing money
in, too; not vast sum, to be sure, but
it helped along"
|And you are sure there were five
thousand dollars paid to Mr.. Paxon?'
81 am positively certain of it,"
''And the reneipts are lost?'
'Lost! Como entirely. Bert, never
dared say it, for can not prove it, but |
firmly believe Mr.. Paxon stole Toms
receipt book"
"Why?"
''Well. he is man who is not much
respected, and there have been several
stories told about him that throw a
doubt over his honesty. Still, he keeps
clear of the law. Tom took tho receipts
for the payments on the house in small
red account-book that had nothing else
in it. That day-no, am not going to
cry again, dear-that dreadful day, he
sent word to Mr.. Paxon that he would
pay him five hundred dollars. He had
sold lot of wool, and I had two hum
dred dollars saved. i know he had it
when Mr.. Paxon came. Then there
was that dreadful hemorrhage, and how
could we think of any thing but Tom
for the next three days? But, Bert, Mr..
Paxon was alone with him when he was
taken i'll and gave the alarm. There
was nothing to prevent his slipping the
receipt-boolz into his pocket, and be-
aieve he did it. 1t can not be found,
and Mr.. Paxon would not dare to as
sert that he has never been paid any
thing but rent for the house. if he did
not Enoac can not produce the receipts"
elm! Yes, see! But one can not
accuse man Of such crime as that
without some proof"
81 understand that. I think he in
tended, if Tom got better, to pretend 1t
was mistake, or he might have meant
to cheat him."
"Was there never any witness to the
payments?"
''No. He would como over, Or Tom
would go to him and pay whatever we
could spare. But have seen the re-
ceipts often! And think, Bert, how
that five thousand dollars would help
me now!'
Bert did think of it! He was young
man who had made for himself a home
in Western State, over which he had
asked his widowed sister to preside. He
had come to her with open hands and
heart, to offer home to her and her
two boys, knowing that his brother-in-
law had lived upon his salary as clerk
in wholesale house. But he had found
that these two by close economy. by
Toms experiments in sheep-raising, and
Jessic's contributions to magazine lit
erature, had nearly secured home of
their own, when sudden rupture of a
blood-vessel had ended life for one, and
left'the other desolate.
Many long talks the brother and sis
ter had about this cruel wrong pressing
upon her, but arriving always at the
conclusion that only the finding of tho
receipt-book could help her. They were
still talking, in the room that Tom had
devoted to his Nife's literary labors and
his own business affairs and dignified
by che name OF library, when Bert, point
sng "a the wall, said:
Where on Garth did You ever get that
horriti daub, Jessie? What is it?''
s'The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers"
said Jessie, smiling. cit is a daub, Bert.
bu5 Toru was fond of it for tho sake of
Els Gully brother, who painted it Poor
Fred! He imagined himself a great art
ast, and this picture masterpiece. But
after v;4inlY trying to sell it, he gave it
&c Tom. 1t was q dreadful job to get it
UP, and you sea Ii takes all the space on
that sido OF tho room. How we are to
get il down is Is mystery"
do you value it?''
MOI I scarcely l<neg Fred, who died
ten yaars ago, and ID 9 picture is fright
fnl. I #
u. nit think l see 4 iighsl' said