Pawtucket tribune. (Pawtucket, R.I.) 1890-189?, 1893-05-15
THE GIRL KNEW BEST

right in allowing Philip Condie TO call on
his daughter Josie.
Nobody in town seemed TO know any
thing about the young man, and he never
spoke Of his home or family himself, SO Il
was plain he had done something wrong.
Now, young Bryan was the man tho dea-
con favored. He had plenty Of money, and
though somewhat Of a stranger, too, in
Craddock, everybody knew that he came
from Minnesota, where he was said to own
good deal Of property.
The deacon did not want TO send Conde
about his business In hurry, because Jo-
sic seemed to have taken such fancy to
the young man, but when the two went out
strolling together that evening he turned
angrily TO his wife
What dye mean" he demanded, "by
encouraging this nonsensei It's got to be
stopped, tell you. The gal knows what's
wanted of her, and she might as well make
up her mind to il. I'm going TO settle II
with her tonight"
Poor Mrs. Roberts knew what he meant,
and her heart sank little. She admitted
Bryan's smooth manners She shared the
common respect which his enviable posi-
ton inspired. She considered him on the
whole a superior being But she was well
aware Of Josies dislike for him, and her
heart was full OF pity for the girl.
That charming person was standing out
side In the twilight, looking up rather so
berly into the face that was bending above
her own. Condie had drawn her arm
through his own with an air of proprietor
ship.
'Welli" he said smilingly.
"WellP' she repeated, with something
like reproach in her voice. at strikes me
really that you are remarkably cool"
IL ought TO be" he responded good hui
moredly. Goodness is "A part of my profess
sion at present"
But you don't understand" said Josie
anxiously. Father was speaking to Mr..
Bryan tonight. | saw him. Well, what
can | doi What am | against themi |
shall probably end by marrying him." she
concluded desperately.
But when she went into the house some
half hour later her face was quite untrou-
bled. He had explained nothing. He was
az much mystery as ever, but somehow
he had scattered her fears to the winds lie
had hidden her wait, and wait she would.
Her father was sitting In his favorite
place by the kitchen stove. He rose as she
entered.
rather nervously. "He says"-----
His daughter paused.
IL know what he says" she said quietly,
but ! shall not marry him, father You
may tell him that"
She went up the kitchen stairway, shut
ting the doosbehind her.
The deacon was extremely nervous He
had spent the day In wandering from the
house to the barn, and from the barn to the
orchard, and from the orchard back TO the
house. He had taken his old gun down
from its shelf and gone into little strip Of
woods back OF the farm-a thing he had not
done for years but he had forgotten to load
II, and he had wandered back presently.
He had gone down to the mill with half
dollar he did not owe in uneasy hopes Of
seeing the owner, for what he did not
know, but the mill had not been open.
That was unusual since Bryan's energetic
reign had begun, and the deacon's nervous
ness had increased.
He listened apprehensively for the click
OF the garden gate. Nothing was as he had
promised. What should he say to himi
He took his pipe from his mouth and
moved in his chair in an agitated way when
he heard II Mt last. A white figure few
past him down the steps and toward the
gate. 1t was not Bryan, then. The deacon
drew sigh of relief
They came up the walk together and sat
down on the steps below him. Condie took
of his hat and lit cigar and addressed
himself to the deacon with bis usual bright
volubility.
pense any longer
last, rising nervously.
Condie knocked the ashes of his cigar
leisurely as he observed;
II hardly think he will come"
The deacon sat down.
"How d'you knowi" he said, and there
was a shade of relief In his voice.
well, the fact is" responded Condie In
a matter of fact way, she is out Of town.
What forS" said the deacon rather
sharply.
well, it's a long story" said Condis
composedly, but I'll condense 1t. About
two years ago he went to Europe with
100000 which didn't belong to him-he
was cashier in n bank-and / sent him back
with II; some-friends Of mine going with
him. 1t was quite in my line"
There was a solemn pause.
Bryan" said the deacon at last In a used
up way; bryan, good heavens"
BE YOU" said Mrs. Roberts, peering a.
Condie In the darkness, 'be you one O.
them critters-what do you call 'em, p'lice-
men"
Condie laughed.
My father is president Of the bank" he
said. IL was abroad at the time. proba,
bly, crossed the fellow on his way over. com.
ing home. Well, found clew-a very
slight one, but ] have worked 1t out, you
see. ! am doubly glad" he added. He
had taken Josie's hand under cover OF the
darkness. He gave me message for you
Bryan isn't his name, by the way" con.
tinued Condie. He wanted me to tell YOU
that circumstances would prevent his mar
rying Immediately, and that he would
leave the game TO me-those were his
words"
Well" said the deacon In a dazed sort
OF n WAY. "well | reckon vou,ra ,anobla 80