Barton County democrat. [volume] (Great Bend, Kan.) 1885-1915, 1892-05-19

| the Lord Harry if ever find him alone
Wi her again I'll dress him down so
! that his own mother wouldn't know
| him.
cit is to Miss Nellie that his atten-
| tions are paid, then?" Dunbar asked,
with a selfish chuckle.
mo, they bean't. an they never will
| be as long as her has a fatter to keep
her out o. harms way. I didn't know
as it was safe for me to go to market
| to-day, but I'm at peace about that
now, for I seen him in Chertsey just
afore started this evening""
''Chertsey! What was he doing there?"
SLOW should know? Mayhappen
getting his hair curled."
Thus for an hour they chatted to-
gether, the yeoman getting more and
more respondent over his household
troubles.
Suddenly a bright thought struck
Arthur Dunbar. It was evident that
Miss Grahame was unhappy and needed
a friends sympathy. Who more proper
to play the part of a consider than him
self? The difficulty was IN securing an
interview, for his pride would hardly
permit him to face Nine. Campignon
after her ungracious manner towards
to present himself boldly at the farm
house tete-a-tete with the young lady
would never be accorded him. Why
not make a confidant of the good
natured farmer? He would do so.
''Mr. Barlow he began, in hesitat-
ing, difident way, 81 am bad hand at
total stranger, emboldens me to be-
<ho< CHI ~ eli Of
in vain.''
''You are right, lad" was the hearty
response. 81 know what thee mean, so
dunnot blush to thy ears in telling me. I"
81 never thought You guessed ="
Dunbar cried.
''Of course thee didn't. Poor chap,
| so many miles away from his kith an
! kini Mayhap thee hast a mother? .
Quite mystifed by the farmers singu-
lar remarks, Arthur replied: Eyes,
have q mother"
IAN love her dearly? Aye, thought
so. Mayhap, too, thy father be dead?"
Eyes, he died when I was boy"
81 guessed as much. Now hear ken,
lad. 1t wasn't always as me an Sarah
hadaonly one chick to comfort us. Years
ago we had a little Soy, but He who
T
| little chap, he fell from tree an broke
his back, for he was aye daring lad
to climb, an we laid him to rest in the
God's-acre of Sunbury church Now,
see here, that little lad might q growed
to be a man like you-might travelled
to foreign parts like you-might a fell
| into difficulties like you-well, if he
had, an your good father had been
alive, do you think he'd given him a
helping hand?''
ST am sure of it. He was generous
man.
can that's just what I'm going to
| do by thee. So dunnot beat about the
bush, but just open thy mouth wide an
say how much!''
AS Barlow spoke he drew from his
brooches pocket long leathern bag
and began to tumble with a roll of
notes and gold 81 sold a stack of
wheat to-day" he added. $50 thee
needn't be afeard to speak out"
Arthur grasped the yeoman's hand
I my dear kind friend" he said, you
quite mistake my need. 1 am not in
want of money; in feet have more Of
it than I have occasion for; but shall
never forget your opcn-hearted kind
| ness"
''Not want money. Then what the
devil dost thee want?" John Barlow
burst forth in maze of surprise.
81 want to secure ON interview with
Miss Grahame when your French friends
are not present.
Johns reply was long low whistle.
''Can it be done?" Arthur demanded.
i Poor Mr.. Barlow was at a loss how to
! answer He had an honest liking for the
man who made the request. Kate Ora
hame was particular favorite of his and
it would afford him the highest satisfac-
ton to circumvent mademoiSelle and
her obnoxious nephew, but-and the
| ssbut" was very prominent in his mind
was it fair to Miss Balderstone?
''You hesitate" Arthur said, his brow
clouding.
ST doan't quite see my way. young
fellow"
''And you refuse?"
mo, don't, but I'm going to sleep
on it. You walk out tomorrow morn
ing down the lane by the big cow-pas-
ture, an may-happen I'll meet thee, or,
some one else may chance to walk that
way"
With this comforting assurance, Mr..
Barlow took his departure, and Arthur
| was left once more to his solitary medl-
tationS.
1t was beautiful night, the moon
shone on the placid waters of the
sleepy stream, and, tempted by the
fair scene. he carried his chair on to the
balcony, that he might sit and revel in
the lovely landscape.
He was lost in thought. The past,
the present and the future tripped like
figures in dream through his brain.
Suddenly, he became alive to the fact
that others besides himself were enjoy
2 ing the peaceful prospect On the
wooden bench of the porch beneath
him. were seated persons, whose noisy
discussion disturbed the flow of his
thoughts. There were two voices; ono
a deep bass, the other pitched ina higher
kcy-surely the voluble tones of Leon
d'Estreville. By degrees they were
less guarded in their remarks. and he
could not but hear their conversation
He would have given some sign to in.
dicate his presence, but the mention Cd
his own name made him hesitate to dc
CHAPTER *
UNCLE AND EEPHEw.
Without any great effort on Arthur