The Canton times. (Canton, Miss.) 1893-1906, 1894-11-23

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you only sold it for mere trifie to 1
dealer, and heard no more of it. AND
| here
Here" continued Maiden, seeing
that his friend liesitated, "your Hero
will be exhibited. Oh, it'll be ac
cepted right enough! Directly It'll
finished, even, "a blessed marquis turns
up who is ready and willing to pay
you handsomely for it, and it will be
seen by hundreds of snobs and nobs
of high degree, and if it isn't the
means of bringing in shoals of orders,
never trust my word again"
We'll, it does seem a little hard on
you, ALI, old man -
"Oh, well, you needn't keep on crow
ing over a fellow" interrupted NAL
den, testify.
why" said Bob, looking grieyous-
ly shocked, II was never dreaming of
doing such thing. was only going
to say ! may be able to find opportuni-
ties OF introducing you to people who
will recognize your worth, and
"Ha, hal" laughed Maiden, dismally.
IT'S very good of you to say So now,
but Bob Bannister, Esquire, sculptor
in ordinary to his high mightiness, the
most noble marquis of Finchington,
basking in the patronage of other
moneyed and titled gentry, will be
much too great a person to remember
poor, luckless, threadbare ALT NAL
dem
"Alf." cried Bannister, earnestly,
you can't think Pm such mean
humbug as that! If I am only to be
fortunate at the expense of losing
the oldest-the only friend l have
hang it! hope never may be FORUM
ate at ALP
"You say so now, old boy. It's good
Of you to say So" said Alf dejectedly.
But change of circumstances alters
ones opinions wonderfully In any
case, how do you suppose l, your senior
in years, who have been working
longer and harder than you, could sub
NIT to the humiliation of being patron
lied by you even though you are my
friend? 1t is humiliation enough to be
beaten by one whose work is, 1 know,
no better than my own. But l could
Mt"
Don't say any MORE" cried Bob,
imploringly. "After all the struggling
we have had together, to think that
any success could carry me beyond
your reach! I've been selfish-full of
my own good fortune. 1t never struck
me till now, but-do you think that 1
would do anything to humiliate you?
I can't bear the thought of it. Why.
anything else after what we've said
about each other--eh. old falsifier? I'd
sooner never have done the Hero at
all. l can't tell you how itgrieves me,
old fellow. After all these years to
think that should do anything to es-
TRANCE us from each other"
There was suspicious moisture In
his eyes and slight tremor in his
voice as he suddenly seized his friends
hand and left the sentence unfinished.
"Well. never mind. Can't be helped"
said Maiden, getting up, with an
uneasy laugh. ''It's late. We shall
both think differently in the morning,
perhaps Let's be off home"
They went downstairs together in
silence, shook hands in the street and
parted. each on his own way home.
For some time Maiden hurried along
deep in full and responding refec-
tons. So long as they both were re-
garded as men of equal medic Gritty he
did not care, although all the while he
was conscious of his superior merit.
And to think that one single piece of
work had made all the differencel All
that had been done might in moment
be undone, if an enemy of Bob's-sup-
posing him to have an enemy-could
get into the studio and maliciously
shatter the "Hero" with a few blows
Of the mallet.
Next morning, when the faint
wintry sunlight looked in at Bannis-
ser's little curtaineG window, 1t found
him lying awake in bed yawning
lrowsily He glanced at the clock on
his mantelpiece. and saw that 1t was
nearly ten, and closed his eyes again
With comfortable sigh. But just as
le- did so he heard a loud knock at the
street door below. followed a moment
alter by the murmur of buried voices,
hen a sound of quick footsteps on the
stairs and somebody rapping sharply
IN the door.
"Yes?" he shouted
Bob. Bob!'
THAT you, ALI? Come in"
The door was pushed open. and
Maiden came hurrying in, with a
white. scared face and Mortified look
n his eyes.
"Oh. Bob!" he exclaimed, breathless-
v. ~ have news for you. Bad news.
Terrible news"
"Eh? What is ftp" demanded Bob,
lifting up in bed.