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

ssf wagon pumped over the
~ ruts of Cole county. The
frozen ruts of Cole county. The
children, with bright expectant faces,
waited at every post-box and gave
a Merry Christmas in exchange for
her bundle of mail. Old Ben Todd,
whose three-score years exempted
him from active service on the farm,
stood by the little b%ird-house which
served as post-box at the corner of
his field and, presenting her with an
ear of red popcorn, wished her Merry
Christmas and Happy New Year, with
a smile on his old face, as brown and
wrinkled as the apples that had lain
on the ground since harvest. But he,
like the children, was cheerful, eX-
pectant, even gay; it Knocked her
mood of bitter disappointment. More
to her taste was the greeting of the
Widow Brown, a forlorn-looking
lame, whose sleek hair, pulled vio-
emily back from her face, seemed,
more than the cold, responsible for
her purple nose AS she took the
mail from Matilda's hand she re-
marked with a rueful shake of her
head: "a green Christmas makes
a fat graveyard" And the girl
sighed in answer and drove on with
anything but a holiday air. For there
was a package in her bag, which, light
and small, made her heart heavy as
lead. 1t was addressed to a certain
Miss Fay Barney, and the hand was
as familiar as it was dear. Had she
not often admired the heavy shading,
and practiced with loving emulation
The curves in the capital letters? A
long and tender missive was hers
every week in this same handwrit-
ing, and yet--Christmas day was
here, the mail all collected and no
remembrance.
Instead, there was a ring in this
package, a diamond ring, so the open
receipt read, addressed to her dear
est friend, and, such was the clumsy
p~layfulness of fate, she must be the
one to deliver it.
Suddenly a voice startled her.
Merry Christmas" it said, and a
strange head divided the curtains at
the side of the wagon.
At the same instant the wheels
came to a full stop, and Matilda's
eyes, from which establishment and
fright had dried the tears, saw anoth-
CT stranger at the horses head. Both
were seedy and shabby, and both
4N.Nrn E1o,taI Iat. Two ,D, o1aea1u Nuar
their eyes.
Merry Christmas and Happy New
Year" continued the first speaker.
Cant you be civil to a Teller on a
holiday? Mono, that won't go;
drop it," and he leveled a revolver in
Matilda's face. For she was unac-
customed to the use of hers, and had
bungled in an attempt to slip it from
its place. Pale, but determined, and
with all her wits now fully about her,
Matilda stared silently into the
cleaning barrel. The man at the
horse's head chuckled in open admira-
ton, then warned his companion:
Hurry up; somebody might come"
The other, still pointing his weapon
at the little ~mail-carrier, urged:
step lively, miss; some O. them
things in that there sack III come
in real handy. Christmas comes but
once a year, you know"
Like lightning Matilda's brain
sought about for some expedient. To
gain time she demanded: DO you
know the penalty for"
Yep, get a move" was the laconic
interruption, made still more effective
by a threatening click of the trigger.
All this time Matilda had kept the
ring tightly clasped in her hand. By
great good fortune she was near the
end Of her route. There were only a
few packages left, and this ring was,
she felt sure, by far the most valuable.
IL she could only keep this from the
men; and like a flash came an ugly
thought temptation before which