The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1901-11-08

II Is course l shall fight"
said Osgood Lentran de-
cidedly. mr. Winthrop
made me his heir, Mr..
Deane; there are law and justice on
my side. If Philip Madden, who
would have been the heir had he lived,
chose to marry and leave a son be-
hind him, facts unknown to his uncle,
have nothing whatever to do with
that"
Nothing at all-nothing at ALL"
said Mr.. Deane, his lawyer, discover
Ing a slight scratch on his chin and
carefully measuring It; "but the
widow, you see, has, Mr. Lentran-
that's the difference. OF course she
will fight. Still, I'll do my best"
THANK you," said Lentran easily.
'I'll be out of town for a few weeks
holiday. Going on q cycling tour up
the State. Shall see you when come
back. Goodbye"
He was off. Osgood Lentran never
dallied. He was full of physical
strength and energy and, on the
whole, the world was a good place
for him-though he was a briehess
lawyer, and even his right to the for
tune left him was threatened, Lentran
did not trouble his head over that
In two days he was spinning over hill
and dale, In the company of his great
chum, Jack Romer, oil his troubles
forgotten In the undiluteu enjoyment
Of physical exertion and the joys Of
sunshine, breeze and country sur
roundings
1t was on the fourth day that the
accident happened. Lentran was rid
ing in advance of his companion
through q small village. A pretty
stiff descent led down to the main
street; Lentran came down at a good
pace and shot round a curve, ringing
his bell. He noticed a number Of
children playing at the side Of the
road; as he approached, one Of them,
little whitehead figure, shot into the
middle of the street. How it hap
pened, who could tell? Lentran
swerved to the side, the child did the
same. The fore-wheel Of the machine
came in contact with an obstacle,
bounded over it, lurched, and then
turning clean over, shot Lentran head
over heels with the impetus Of q can
non-ball.
He was conscious of hearing a pierre
ing scream ere he reached the ground
after that, all was blackness and
nothingness for a moment. The next,
Lentran recovered himself and stag
gered to his feet. His left arm hung
helpless. There was an excruciating
pain In 1t, and the blood streamed
from a cut IN his neck But his physi-
cal pain was nothing to his mental.
He had killed some one, he was sure
of that.
He rushed into the group gathered
beside the road. The little white
figure lay there motlonless.
Stand back, all of you, for Gods
sake! Is the child dead?" he cried
hoarsely.
Lentran pushed them aside, and
bending down, lifted the child on his
unwounded arm.
"Where does he live? who knows
the way? Show it to me-" he said in
the same hoarse voice.
A little girl darted forward and
volunteered. She was crying bitterly
"And run for the nearest doctor, one
OF you" cried Osgood, turning for q
moment "I'n give something to the
one who fetches him."
The next moment he was striding
after the little girl. Some Of the
crowd followed, and, as he strobe
along, people turned and stared al
the strange sight. Some asked Ques
TONS Osgood gave no reply. In q
few minutes they reached their des
tinatiOn. 1t was a small cottage
grown over with Ivy. A path led up Il
the door through a trimly-kept gar
den.
The little girl led the way into tbs
cottage, and bursting open a door
entered q email, neat sitting-room. Ii
the window a woman sat sewing, thu
afternoon sun streaming on her brown
hair.
AS Lentran entered, she looked up
betting her work fall into her lap, ana