The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1899-12-24
(BY GEORGE LINcoLN.) ,

The judge fell into the way of watch
ing them naturally enough. After the
court adjourned in the early afternoon.
he always took a ride on his bicycle.
and never failed to visit the beautiful
stretch of boulevard recently opened
along the string of lakes.
They both came of good families, or,
at least, well-to-do families. and their
manner led him to think there was
breeding behind them How. then, did
he come to know that they loved eacn
other? you ask. How was it possible
not to know it? He was not always
past so and he had a good memory.
So, when the judge noticed the way
he looked at her and the way she
looked at him" and the tenderness of
the young mans courtesy. the judge
knew we'll enough how matters were
She was beautiful woman. not over
20, and gave one an impression of trig-
ness and neatness. A woman would say
she wore a becoming suit that fitted
her. She was petite. with one OF
those fresh, sparkling faces so seldom
seen among overworked society girls.
He was a manly chap of %, athletic.
bronzed. and thoroughly fit" as my
nephew says My nephew plays on the
VARSITY" football team, and ne is au-
thority in our family on such matters
And they noticed the judge. After a
while ne got into tie way of bowling to
them, although they didn't know he
them.
One dreamy Indian summer afternoon
the judge went up among the trees on
the side of the lake to a sheltered nook
he knew and lay down to rest. There
had been a puZzling case before him
that morning and while thinking it over
he must have fallen asleep.
He was suddenly aware that just out
side his shelter a man and woman were
talking. He knew not what to do.
He soon discovered that they We're
''his lovers, as he called them. and
they were discussing some unhappy cir
eumstance regarding their affection
What should he do? There was no
way out except past them. Would it be
better to come out and so let them
know he had heard their talk. or would
it not be more delicate TO remain till
they had gone, not listening, and they
would never know anyone had ever
overheard them. He decided on the lat
ter alternative and remained perfectly
quiet.
But try as he would, it was impossi-
BILE not to hear their whole conversa-
ton.
But what difference does that
make?" asked the young man. You
know perfectly well. Alice, that if it
were a thousand times worse, that if
it were you yourself, would marry
you
"Oh, but think of it, NedI Think
what your friends would say. Ned
Grant married the daughter of an en-
bezzler serving his time in jail
The judge couldn't help wondering if
this were the son of Grant on the su-
preme bench. whom he had never met,
although he knew his father intimately.
The girls gentle voice broke as she
said this, and Ned cried:
"Oh. Alice, l wish you wouldn't think
of that. 1t just breaks me up to see
you cry, you know,"
Then followed a silence, during
which Alice must have been in some
way comforted, for she said in a steady
voice:
NO, my dear boy. l have been very
weak to see you so often and have
these rides. 1 should have refused and
tried to forget you. But, Ned, l couldn't
can't think of anything but you-and
Il do love you sou
More silence. Then:
And Ned, this really must be the
last. l can't marry you. No, dear
please don't go all over it again. /
know that it would be a great wrong
to you to say yes. 1t would always be
q hindrance to you. We would have no
friends. and young lawyer must have
friends. Who would come to your house
if they knew your wife was abe daugh-
ter of Rand, the embeZZler?
That was where the judge almost dis
covered himself. He sentenced Rand to
twenty years hard labor. and he had
still fifteen years to serve. 1t was
queer case, and not quite clear. SO this
was the motherlesS girl he had heard so
much about.
Now, see here, Aiice,'' the young
man said, you know il takes two to
make a separation. So while you may
think it best not to see me again. |
shall not give you up, and l shall see
you every opportunity / can, so long as
it doesn't bother you. Dad knows all
about it, and he's with me-
The judge wanted to shout: Good
for dad" but he didn't.
Then they got up to go, and after
another longer silence they left him
alone. He knew all about the trouble.
and pretty mean ne felt about it, too.
AS he rode slowly home he turned
the little tragedy over and over in his
mind, and the more he thought about 1t
the more he felt that he had made a
mistake by staying and listening. AT
last he evolved a plan calculated TO
ease his own conscience and give the
young man some courage. So the judge
sent him this letter:
Mr. Edwin Grant:
l had the misfortune to overhear part
Of your conversation with Miss Rand
today, although in quite an accidental
If, as 1 surmise, you are the
son of Grant of the supreme, You are
made of the right sort of stuff to regard
Miss Rand's views as only temporary
obstacle to your happiness. sentenced
Rand, and If you care to call on me /
should be glad to see you. Perhaps we
may think of some arguments to make
Miss Rand look at the case differently.
At any rate, l agree with his honor,
your father, and am also with you"
Yours, ROBERT STORROW.
The next day the judge was obliged
to go to distant city to act as referee
in a case.
The Rand case was almost purely a
one, and hung on the
in which the false entries
had been made in the books. The hand
writing experts all agreed that the
entries had been made by Rand, indeed,
the prisoner admitted as much.
He had plead mot guilty. and when
he admitted the identity of the hand
writing there was little left to do for
him. His counsel was completely baffled
by the admission, and Rand refused TO
explain it in any way. Try as he would
the lawyer could elicit Sothing further,
and the jury had to bring in u verdict
Of guilty.
1t could never be found how Rand |
had disposed of the sum he embezzled.
In fact, not a penny of the missing
money was ever found. and the bank
charged it to profit and loss.
Hooper. the president of the bank, |
vas in constant attendance ar the trial