The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1896-12-03

suspicious speculation over the top of
the fence. He and Lawrence had not
made much progress toward an &C.
quaintance. Lawrence regarded him
as a curiosity of doubtful and alarm
ing order-an object to be examined
from safe distance.
Lawrence dropped behind the palings
as suddenly as he had appeared; and
Ed'ard sauntered off. He went through
the barnyard and down the lane, and
crawled under the fence into the pas
ture on the brow Of the hill, where the
mushrooms sprung in white c!umps'
and where in the early morning the
dew lay thick and white.
All the cows were off in the woods.
and one small calf had the pasture to it.
self. 1t cast timorous look at Ed'ard
from it's dull brown eyes, and sided on
as fast as it's clumsy legs would carry
it.
Its uncouth antics struck Ed'ard nu-
morously, and he chuckled. He made
a tilt at the calf and it plunged into the
corner of the fence. Ed'ard followed.
The unwonted spirit of sport possessed
him. He flung up his arms and
squealed. The calf beloved, and loped
off in terror. Its stiff tail whipped the
air, and it's legs sprawled in way that
delighted Ed'ard's soul. The twain
tore round and round the field. Ed'ard's
wide mouth spread wider; his face
grew red with the violence of his exer-
tons, and damp. His joyous squeals
echoed. But the calf was exhausted
and dazed.
1t staggered, stumbled against the
fence with full force and crashed
through the time-rotted boards, and
plunged headlong down the steep hill.
Ed'ard started after it, painting. He
saw where the little animal had lodged
against a great stone near the bottom
of the hill. It lay still. and made no
movement.
Hurriedly he got himself down to the
spot. The calf lay with its head twist
ed back. Its neck was broken. 1t was
warm, and it's limbs twitched, but it
was dead. Ed'ard, lsneeling beside it,
felt it all over with his two small,
trembling hands.
The calf was dead, and he had killed
it! A cold terror struck his heart. He
was stiff with fright. Never in his life,
though it had been full of hayward de-
ccit and previously, had he done SO
fearful thing. Yet he had been
whipped many and many time, and
sometimes cruelty. What would hap
pen to him now? What?
He forgot that he had known moth
ing but kindness here; forgot that ne
had not once been beaten or rallied at or
threatened. The atmosphere OF good
ness and miidness and justice had
quivered through all his being, and
warmed his starved soul; but he for
got it now. The traditions of his hard
life were strong upon him. He was
sick with fear.
For a space he knelt there, not STIR
ring. But his wits were at work. His
anxiety seemed focused III his eyes;
they were cleaning points of light.
He was struggling to think what was
the most presentable lie he could tell.
Not for an instant did he shrink
from it. But this was an appalling
case, and to it's solution all his faculties
were strained. He cast his eyes around
for any hint, any loopholc of escape.
He saw the old horse waiting in the
wheat field, his patient head dropped.
He looked toward the house. No
body was in sight. His mind worked
fast. He invented and weighed and
reasoned, and then contrived plan.
He made to the barn and found rope;
then he went to the wheat field. He
would have taken the horse from the
plow, but he did not know how to do It..
He led the horse through the lot and
across the intervening field where the
calf lay. He tied one end of the rope
around the calls neck and the other to
the plow, with many twistings. He
then led the horse to stump, and got
on his back.
He guided him toward Mr.. Brush's
woodpatch, at little distance. The
old animal lifted his ears in bewilder-
ment at the new weight, and stepped
off slowly. The plow bumped and
bounced, duu Cuc CuAl VI dSSCu ASo'AJ
Ed'ard left the calf at the edge of the
woods and went back as he had come.
He left the horse where he had found
him, and went and propped up the
broken bars in the pasture.
Then he marched into the kitchen.
He was pale, but his lips were drawn
into tight, determined line. He faced
Mr.. Brush.
1.-THE little Calls dead" he said. II
saw him laying out in the lot. and he was
dead. T thought you'd want him took
off out of the way, and I took him. l
got the horse and dragged him off to
the woods, and there he Is"
Mr. Brush rubbed back his hair and
stared at him. "The calf" he ejacu-
lated, in sore amazement.
Ed'ard nodded. He stood there uD'
Ainchingly, scarcely winking. h.
read in their thunder-struck faces the:l
dawning suspicion of him, but bis
stee1y attitude held them at bay, ard
he knew it. He walked out of t1e
kitchen.
Mr.. Brush went out to the pasture