Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1898-11-21

M MI to them in their
Ms home, while their
Wi only child, son,
" h ad brought t.
them nothing but sorrow.
Mr.. Winthrop had spent his life per-
fecting his farm, of which he was very
proud, and the thought that after his
death his son Duncan would squander
it away in a very short time SO vexed
him that, after his wife's death, he
made will giving everything he had
to his adopted daughter, Marie, ex-
cepting $1,000 bequeathed to his son.
The whole neighborhood knew that
such will had been made, but now
that the old man was dead and buried
it was not to be found, and Duncan's
name was mentioned in whispers of
foul play.
Marie stood looking sadly upon the
fields of waving grain and watching
the birds hutter here and there. How
happy they were together. Watching
them made her realize her own loneli-
ness so she turned her gaze upon the
highway and saw Duncan Winthrop
approaching the house. Presently he
stood before her, young man that
can be described by the one word
prohigate.
''I am going to sell the farm next
week, and came to tell you, SO you can
yacate these premises" said he, while
watching the effect his words had upon
the face before him.
''You are going to sell the farmw
repeated Marie, in q dazed way, trying
to realize all that meant for her.
''Yes. I need the money and must
have it,"
''But where can 1 go?"
"That you must decide for yourself.
You have had good home here for
fifteen years, and it is about time you
began to get your own living"
''But Father Winthrop never in
tended to leave me destitute. He
told me that he had made will pro-
viding for me, and it will surely be
| found"
Duncan Winthrop smiled and
pulled from his pocket paper which
he opened and held up for Marie to
see. 1t was not such an elaborate
affair as wills are nowadays, but a
small sheet of letter paper, on which
was written, in as few words as pos
sible, John Winthrop's wishes in re-
gard to the disposal of his estate after
his death, and signed by three wit
| nesses.
'Is that the will?" questioned Marie
in astonishment.
"rhat is the will" was the curt
reply.
'fWhere did you get it?"
''I stole it, Do you think I would
let anyone else get possession of it?
1t makes all the difference in the
world to me who has it, and to make
myself wholly safe think I'll destroy
it now." SO saying, he walked to the
kitchen stove, where a small fire was
burning, and, placing the open paper
upon the Goals, stood and watched
the flames devour it. Marie, SPELL
bound, watched it also.
'I shall inform Lawyer Ferris i'm
mediately what you have done" she
exclaimed, as the last bit of flame
fickered out.
"Will you?" returned Duncan, with
laugh, replacing the cover upon the
stove. ''And how will you prove it,
for | shall say didnt?"
"They will believe me-"
perhaps, but as long as you can
prove nothing 1 can snap my finger at
what they believe. So now you must
see it will be necessary for you to find
new lodgings very soon." Then he
left the house, and Marie stood
irresolutely watching him pass down
the road out of sight.
Mechanically she approached the
stove and lifted the cover. There, as
though mocking her, lay the will in
ashes, but every word visible still, and
she read through, great tears rolling
down her cheeks at the words: 81
give and bequeath to my beloved
daughter, Marie Richards, the farm
and everything upon it."
Suddenly it occurred to her that if
she could preserve the ashes in as per-
feet state as they then were it would
be proof enough to establish Duncans s
guilt and her own claim. For several
minutes she stood debating in her mind
| the aafept wav tn acnomnlish IL praa.