Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1897-06-15
too many like him, nor young Lambert,

either rs>r*. ~ ~..r-- : c-%,..
And when. Floyd finally went to his
room that night after the low
ing visit to his mothers bedside, he sat
long at the open easement, gazing out
on the soft, still beauty of the moonlit
night, his heart touched and thrilled
as it had not been for years, and his
pride humbled. While he, hayward
and forgetful of their needs, had left
mother and sisters to struggle for
themselves, and had lost himself in vain
dreaming of sweet-faced girl who he
had early enough been warned was mt
for him-while he, reckless, selfish.
weak, had abandoned himself to drink
and despair and then to the cold char
lty OF the world-it was an alien and an
enemy, an uncouth soldier in the hated
blue, who had stood between the strick-
en- and helpless ones at home and abso-
lutte want and privation. The good
angel who 1ninistered to them in their
distress, even when STIMULATING that
they should never know whence came
the needed aid, and who finally became
the purchaser" of the desolate and
ruined place, thereby supplying the
means to make them so content and
comfortable now. was that creature of
strong contrasts, Capt. Close.
Not until long after midnight did
Walton leave his seat by the open case
ment and seek his pillow; but there
was another watcher whose vigil out
Lasted his. In the little batch of let
tiers brought by Cousin Bart from the
post office that evening was one which
bore the Austin stamp and was ad-
dressed in Lambert's hand. Reading it
hurriedly, Floyd had changed color
and thrust it in his pocket, Katesie
watching him with furtive eyes, yet
never trusting herself to a question.
1t was Esther who eagerly demanded
news of their absent friend. "Oh, yes,
he's getting BETTER" Floyd admitted,
but then faltered. When was he COM
ing? Oh, Lambert didn't say. The
doctors probably wouldn't let him
travel just yet. The letter was main
ly about-other matters-about Col.
Sweet, who didn't seem to be doing
as well as they could wish. His wife
was on the way to join him. Didn't
Lambert send any word or message?
No. He probably wrote in hurry.
And that ght Miss Katesie sat vita
her dimpled chin buried in her pref
ty round arms, gazing long out upo,.
the flashing waters, a sad, silent and
deeply troubled girl. There was some
thing in that letter that concerned her;
and how diagreeable she had been to
Lambert! and she just knew it! and
Floyd was mean and wouldn't tell her!
AT least this was the burden of her
song when at two o'clock in the morn
ing she threw herself sobbing into
Esther's loving arms, and Esther,
soothing and smiling softly to her
selr, thought she could soon find means
to comfort her.
That week brought other letters, and
telegram to Floyd, and he had bust
ness in New Orleans and must go ever
for a day. Lambert was coming on
from Texas, and he'd fetch him back
with him. Everybody could see he was
feverishly Impatient to get away, and
sad smile flickered about the moth
er's pale lips as she laid her hand in
blessing on his head. He went by the
morning boat and fastened to the
levee where the steamers of the Crom-
we'll line came in from New York He
vas there hours before the Crescent
came blowing her way up the swollen
and turbid river; and before she was
sighted at English Turn, who should
appear but Lieut.. Warning and the gen.
erals aide-de-camp who had come to
see him during his brief confinement
under guard!
TO BE CONTINUED