The Grenada sentinel. [volume] (Grenada, Miss.) 1868-1955, 1901-12-21

should she keep it from them? Why
risk her life to save it? Have not they
as much right to it as that other? But
horror at the tempter's voice gave her
new courage, and, as if addressing
conscience rather than the thief, she
spoke with sudden vigor:
You are wicked; you are o~utraging
this holy day" Then as the mans
careless shrug recalled her to his more
practical view:
There is nothing Of value in the
Sack" she said. "a few cheap presents
to the children in the country; are you
fools to risk life and freedom for this
trash? See"
AS she bent forward, the right hand,
which held the ring, dropped to her
side, and the folds of her dress dulled
the sound of the falling box. On the
floor it lay, unobserved by the intrud.
er, who now bent over the disclosed
treasures. There were no registered
letters, and the array of parcels was
scant, tied, for the most part, with un.
practiced fingers, and evidently of lit
tie value. Cupidity died out of the
mans eyes as he saw the meager as.
sortment, and he gave a dissatisfied
grunt.
"No good, participated spoons and
celluloid work boxes; l can see it from
the outside"
"Well, take 'em anyway" advised the
other from his position as sentry.
But the leader was more cautious.
First possessing himself of Matilda's
revolver, he left her, pale, trembling,
but outwardly calm, while he Joined
his companion. His words were plain
to her strained ears: whats the use?
The swag is no good-it would only be
in the way"
There was no answer while, for a
moment, both men stood listening.
"Sure; it's wheels, pard-let's ske.
daddle."
The leader came quickly back to the
wagon. "We've concluded not to both.
er you SEEM as it's a holiday,"he said,
politely. "Much obliged for this" he
added, Bourishing her little pearl-han-
died pistol. "I1l take it as a remem-
brance of the season. Merry Christ
mas!" And, lifting his hat as iauntily
as If it had been a brand-new tile, he
followed his comrade, who had in the
meantime jumped the fence and disap-
peared in the underbrush beyond.
Miss Barney threw a cape hastily
about her shoulders.
matilda is so late, mother, and I'm
impatient for the mail. I'll go and
meet her." she said; and she tripped
out Of the house and down the sodden
path to the gate. Still no sign of the
mail.
From the gate post she lifted the
iron hoop, stubborn with frost, and,
slipping through the gate, peered down
the road. At the moment around the
turn came the wagon, swinging this
way and that as the horses trotted
along, the lines dangling limp over the
dashboard.
"Where is Matilda?" thought Miss
Barney, with q sudden sinking of the
heart. For the rosy face of the post
mistress invariably peeped out, and
she usually waved a CHEEKY greeting.
And then a panic seized the waiting
girl, as the horse came to a full stop
at the accustomed post, and still no
sign of its driver. She flew to the
wagon and peeped in. In a little heap,
on the floor, lay Matilda, her eyes
closed, lips open, her whole face white
as the worsted hood she wore. Where
it had fallen from her limp fingers, lay
a small box addressed to Miss Fay Bar
ney. All this the girl noticed, then she
flew for help, and Matilda was prompt
" carried into the house, and cuddled
in a big chair by a blazing fire. The
warmth, the cheer revived her.
But the new glow in her veins, the
sparkle in her eyes, came from a fire
within, kindled by Miss Barney's
words: "He addressed the ring to me,
'Tildy, but of course it is for you. l
was to give it to you Christmas day,
with his love- he said, 'and best wishes
for a Merry Christmas"