The southern sentinel. (Winnfield, La.) 1883-1910, 1901-09-06

| VI course you WOulu not. III is not
obvious or commonplace or highly
colored enough for you" reforted
Otto. But to my mind there is some
thing Infinitely pathetic in the tat
tered old coat of this dignified and
Observation-Disclosures old man. and in
the darns which the daughter must
have lost the brightness of her eyes
over"
Decidedly. my dear boy. you must
co IL in poetry. not prose-" said Cliff
ford. mockingiy.
Otto would have retorted. but that
they had now reached the little bridge
/ over the River Fleet, and were within
few yards of the halfway house.
This is the place where Jordan
spends his afternoons" said Otto. lead
ing the way to the little Inn.
Lets have him out"
The Blue Lion was a very UMPIRE
tending establishment. old, but with
out any pretensions to historical or
archaeological interest. small, inconve-
nient and weather-beaten. Standing
as. it did midway between sleepy
Stroan and democratic Courtstairs. IL
was the house of call for all the car
riers, farmers and cattle-drovers all
the year round. while in the months
of July and August its little bar was
! thronged with the denizens of the
Mile-end Road. who take their pleas
ure in brakes. with concertinas and
bowls and discordant songs.
A few late visitors of this sort were
In the little bar when Clifford and
Otto entered. But there was no sign
of Jordan. Both the young men
looked with curiosity at the woman
who was serving behind the bar. n
portly young woman with a ready
tongue. who in her sturdy bulle and
large coarse hands. as well as In the |
weather-beaten look of her complexion !
betrayed that she was accustomed to |
fill up her time. when work was slack |
inside the house. with outdoor labor |
Of the toughest kind
When the two friends came out they |
looked at each other in disgust
''She isn't even young cried Otto.
Nearer thirty-fve than twenty-five.
I'll sweari'
And her voice, And her detestable /
Kentish Accent added Clifford. |
And those high cheekbones. and that
short nose! It's a type l loathe-the
type Of the common shrew"
Il shouldn't have thought it Of Jor-
dan" murmured Otto. in pity tenn
pered with indignation.
But where is the ruffian himsels:"
asked Clifford, stopping short. do
You think we are on a wrong scent.
after all?"
IF it were anybody but Jordan. I
should say yes" said Otto. deliberate
ly. But his susceptibility is so colos-
sal that see no reason to doubt even
this"
Nevertheless he following Clifford.
when the latter turned back toward
the little bridge.
There's a cottage" said the more
humane King. "a little cottage by the
roadside. Let us see IL we can dis
Germ a petticoat in the neighborhood
Of that. We may be doing the poor
chap an injustice. after all"
But before they reached the cottage
the attention Of the two younI men
was arrested by the sound of a girls
voice on the left, just before they
the bridge. II was a voice so
bright. so sweet. with such a sugges-
ton Of bubbling laughter in its tones.
that they both stopped short and
ooked ut each other with faces full Of
-emorse
That's Nell" said Otto.
I'VE have done him a cruel wrong"
nurmured Clifford.
And with one accord they bent their
'teps In the direction of the voice, and
litter getting over a wooden paling by
he roadside. scattering a colony OF
owls on the other side. and making
heir way over the rough grass beside
he river where the boats were drawn
lp which carried excursionists to
fleet Castle. they came upon q wood 9
N shed, and a strong smell of pitch, ,
md two human figures. The one was
Jordan. coatless. with his straw hat :
lifted to the back Of his head. a tar
rush in one hand and tin can In the
ther. engaged In the humble but use 9
nj task Of covering the cow-shed with 9
new coat Of pitch. q
But his two friends scarcely glanced q
t him. 1t was the other figure that @
bsorbed all their powers Of vision-a \
lender girl In a print frock, with a .
Thite cotton blouse and an enormous
traw hat. This was the Nell who
rasted the time Of half the young
hen Of Stroan, and who would have
rasted the time of half the young
len Of London IL they had only once
cen her. A beauty Of pure Saxon type
he was. with the opaque white skin
Thich the sun does not scorch or red -
en-, with rose-pink cheeks. a child's o
outing mouth. and big blue eyes that II
lade q young man hold his breath. g
Ter hair had turned since childhood d
,om 6axen to a deeper tint, and was d