The Opelousas courier., 1899-09-23

>J0 Foo -" !"
had left the city more than two hours
before, and its lights had disappeared
with the %oncoming of the storm.
The weary pedestrian suddenly
paused and leaned on the knobbly
stick in his hand. No! he was not
mistaken; the light he had see ema,
mated from a cottage Windows cot,
tage that stood just off the turnpike.
Surely every heart did not beat unre.
sponsive to the cry of hunger and
charity! Surely he was not doomed
to die Of starvation and fatigue in this,
q Christian land!
The grimy fingers closed tightly
about the stick, and the starving mar
approached the door Of the little cot
tage. The sound of voices reached
his ears as he stood for a moment IT.
resolute. One was the deep, gruff
voice of a man, and the other was that
of a woman. He knocked gently upon
the door. 1t was opened, and a stall
wart yeoman appeared. The wayfarer's
eyes wandered from the cozy fire to
the repast on the table before it and
from thence to tho rudy face above
him.
"Well, what dye want?" snapped
the cottager.
"a mouthful of food-I'm starving"
replied the wayfarer.
Food, Ell! thet's allays the cry"
snarled the other. "Why don't yer
work fer it, same as OF do? Ger away,
or Oil set the dog on yerl" and the
door was shut violently in the suppli-
cant's face.
A low moan escaped his lips, and he
leaned heavily against the trelliswork
before the door. When at length he
turned from the cottage and sought the
open road a strange light had entered
his sunken eyes-the light of despera-
ton - madness! Wild, incoherent
words fell from his lips; an exultant
laugh gurgled in his throat. Hark!
What was that? Something was ap-
preaching from behind.
All! that something was a cyclist.
He could see the small, trembling light
of the lamp and could hear the suck
ling sound of the tires on the wet
road. The starving wretch stepped
back beneath the shadow of a tree, and
as the solitary cyclist drew near he
placed himself directly in his path.
"sGreat Scott, my man! where the
dickens have you sprung from?" ejac-
ulated the rider, a young fellow, as he
dropped lightly from his machine.
tits a good job I was going easy; if
I hadn't either you or me, or both of
us, would have been fitting subjects
for surgical research by this!" and the
speaker gave his broad shoulders a
shake to dislodge the rain from his
storm cape.
II wanted you to STOP" said the
other, his words coming through his
set teeth.
'Indeed, and for what r~eason?" in
terrogated the cyclist, trying to see
the features of the last speaker.
"I-I want help" and the knobbly
stick was lifted, undiscerned by the
cyclist, a few inches from the ground.
"Help, did you say? Then you're
'on the road?' eh?"
"Call it that if you like, but-T'm
starving!"
"Good heavens! Yes, now I see
your face I don't doubt it! Here, old
chap, for goodness sake 20 and get
something to eat" and the young fol-
low plunged his hand in his pocket.
Suddenly a thought seemed to strike
him.
"But money would be no use to
you," he said; "you want food, and
you can't buy that any nearer than
the town. Stay, know. I am on my
way to a house half a mile further up
the road-the house is called The
Hollies'-you can't mistake it; there
are two turrets; besides, anyone will
tell you. which is Mr.. Tenn
house. I will ride on-ah!
know MI. Templeton;
no occasion to be afraiG see
a justice of the peace &ssn have
got a soft heart-and ii hesSA. Hes
daughter has. WefSsh
spin along and see there's soiSsns
ready for you to eat when you arm,
The young fellow had placed Ms
foot on the step of his bicycle to
mount when he felt the tramp's touch
on his shoulder.
"Well?-you understand me, didn't
eyes, I understood you, but"
"But what?"
"Who is this Mr.. Templeton whom
you just spoke about-is it Robert
the celebrated architect?"
eyes"
"And is he related to you?"
A shade of annoyance crossed the
young fellows face, but only for an
"No, not exactly-as yet, he replied
a laugh. 'But I may be related
him before long at least I hope so.
as a son-in-law, you know"
"Ah! I had forgotten; he has a
The kLobbly stick lay on the ground
and its owner was trembling like
3 Leaf. With an agile spring the cy-
clist seated himself in his saddle. and
as his feet found the pedals he looked
round over his shoulder.
Don't forget, said he; 'sthe house
with the turrets. I will vouch there
Is q good, square meal awaiting .you."
And with that he rode away through
drenching rain.
Robert Templeton, the world-famed
architect. sat in his study deep in
thought. From some Instant port.ea