Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1892-03-03

more and more gloomy and savage as the
days went by, for old Sam Parker was
something of strategist, and managed
to keep the poor lad from getting q
single private interview with Nettie,
thereby giving Cottrell clear field,
which was evidently satisfactory to the
latter, although he did not seem to make
much progress.
One evening Shorty came to my room
in state of mind. He had seen Sam
, Parker that day, and the latter had told
\ him, as gently as possible, some CALLING
truths about his age and his penniless
condition, concluding with the cheerful
information that he ''reckoned Net he'd
bout decided t. take up with Cottrell,
anyhow"
| Of course Shorty was despondent, but
he was none the less determined. GA
Der, I'm going to see her tomorrow
afternoon, and-and ask her."
The time and the hour favored Shorty,
but hardly think Nettie knew her own
mind. The boy who came riding slowly
home through the shadows next evening
was very much downcast boy, indeed.
He told me all about it later; how
Nettie had wavered, and finally told him
that she could give him no answer, She
cared great deal for him, she said, but
she was not sure she cared enough for
him. Besides, her father objected to
him, and she could never cross her faith
er's wishes, when he had done so much
for her.
Sam Parker must have heard of this
interview, and made up his mind to
| SOmatbInO A1fhoupl, ba Il1y so
good-natured be was as determined as q
bulldog, and l think he used some in
Huence in deciding matters, for, two
weeks later, he dropped in" to tell Jack
that Nettie and Cottrell would be mar
ried on Thanksgiving Day, two months
later.
Shorty must have seen news in my
face, for after supper he drew me aside
and asked what knew. hated to tell
him, but did so, the best way l could.
The poor lad stood still as stone for
several seconds. Then, with shudder-
ing sob, he turnet away. In the morn
ing he was gone with his horse and
clothes, leaving no word.
Jack and Joe, the other brother, were
much worried, but, as Jack for the first
time acknowledged, "the boy could take
care Of himself
Jack and talked it over during the
day, and he expressed great deal of
regret, thinking, however, that Nettie
had decided for herself, and that Shorty
had no one to blame for his failure. "1f
it had been different" he went on "and
Percy had peisevered and won, would
have given in, and | think Parker would,
co. Cor ,,,4r
about fifteen thousand. You see, I've
never told him of it because | wanted
him to grow up on his own merits, and
be self-reliant. think it has been for
the best. Joe never knew, until he was
of age, that he had anything, and we
we didn't tell Percy of it then, because
he was only seventeen. Joe put his
money into the ranch here, and kept
quiet about it"
He sat silent for minute, then con-
tinuned: "Of course, this is between
ourselves. But-do you know, / wish
the boy had won. He's good deal of q
man, and, now | come to think of it, the
affair has hit him hard. They could
have waited a couple of years, you
know" And Jack walked off slowly,
Several weeks passed, dnring which l
saw Nettie Parker several times. She |
seemed different. Her laugh was not the
jolly laugh | had been accustomed to
hear and she seemed pensive at times.
Was it her approaching wedding, Or
Shorty? | hoped it was Shorty. But
somehow when people pine they seem to
lose color and get thin, and Nettie Par
ker did neither. And still no word from
Shorty, and the day for the wedding
only a week away.
1t was Wednesday of Thanksgiving
week, and there had been great prepara-
tions at Parker's. The people for miles
around were invited to the wedding.
which old Sam lowed would be "th'
bang-uppest thing they ever he'd in tn
kentry." rode into town on behalf of
Jack and myself, something to present
to the bride-elect. In the post-ofice
some one tapped me on the shoulder.
| turned. 1t was Shorty Fleming
Shorty, with handsome moustache, and
smiling quite happily.
GLOW long before you're going out?"
he asked.
Fright now"
"Bully! Faber, go and borrow
horse until to-morrow-tell EN- yours is
lame, and you'll have to lead him. No
body has recognized me back of this
overcoat collar and the hirsute adorn-
ment, and don't want EN- to. I'll walk
out and head up the road. Hurry up
with the horses!"
In about twenty minutes | was follow
ing him, riding horse had borrowed
FROM my friend the doctor, and leading
my own. l soon caught up with Shorty,
and we hurried on. Shorty showed me
letter signed "Nettie," and proceeded
to unfold a plan he had in mind, which,
for the quality of pure nerve" had
never heard surpassed.
There was nobody at the house but
Manuel, the cook, and Shorty soon had
him sworn to silence. after which he pro-
ceeded to camp in the cold, little up
stairs store-room off my den, where no.
body coud find hhim. Jack was not to
know of his presence, he said, because
''Jack is so laundering honest and per-
snickety, and would squeal or spoil the
job"
Inc hail-hunured guests at Parker
had been enjoying Thanksgiving Day to
the full. All of Mrs. Parkers good
things had been slowed away where they
would do the most good. The minister
r from town was getting ready for the
ceremony, and the guests were bustling
about, amid some confusion, trying to
find the best points for observation.
Nettie Parker, pale for once, stood near