Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1902-04-24
TTITRMONT FREDERICK
do that" he grumbled "And I don't
think your subject very interesting

do thatw he grumbled. "And I don't
think your subject very interesting
one."
"Of course you would not. 1t is not
| obvious or commonplace or highly.
colored enough for you," retorted
Otto. "But to my mind there is some.
thing Infinitely pathetic in the tat
tered old coat of this dignified and
distinguished looking old man, and in
the darns which the daughter must
have lost the brightness of her eyes
over"
Decidedly, my dear boy. you must
do It In poetry, not prose-" said Cliff
ford. mockingly.
Otto would have retorted, but that
they had now reached the little bridge
over the River Fleet. and were within
q 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 very unpre
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, it
was the house Of call for all the car
rlers, 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 conccrtinas and
howls 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, a
portly young woman with ready
tongue. who in her sturdy build and
large coarse hands, as we'll as in the
weather beaten look of her complexion
betrayed that she was accustomed to
fill up her time, when work was slack
thS houSN' " ith out-uVVi Aoooi
of the toughest kind.
When the two friends came out they
looked at each other in disgust.
''She isn't even yOungw cried Otto.
Nearer thirty-five than twenty five,
III swear"
"And her voice! And her detestablc
Kentish accentw added Clifford.
And those high cheekbones, and that
short nose! It's type l loathe-the
type of the common shrew."
II shouldn't have thought it of Jor
danw murmured Otto, in pity tenn
percd with indignation.
But where is the ruffian himself"
asked Clifford, stopping short. do
you think we are on a wrong scent,
after a1l:"
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 If 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 young men
was arrested by the sound Of girls
voice on the left, just before they
reached the bridge. 1t was voice so
bright, so sweet, with such sugges-
ton of bubbling laughter in its tones,
that they both stopped short and
looked at each other with faces full of
remorse.
That's Nell" said Otto.
1--WE have done him cruel wrong"
murmured Clifford.
And with one accord they bent their
steps in the direction of the voice, and
after getting over wooden paling by
the roadside, scattering colony Of
fowls on the other side. and making
their way over the rough grass beside
the river where the boats We're drawn
uD which carried excursionists to
Fleet Castle. they came upon wood
en- shed, and a strong smell of pitch.
and two human figures. The one was
Jordan, coatless, with his straw hat
tilted to the back of his head, tar
brush in one hand and tin can In the
other, engaged in the humble but use
full task of covering the cow-shed with
a new coat of pitch.
But his two friends scarcely glanced
at him. 1t was the other figure that
absorbed all their powers Of vision-a
slender girl in print frock, with a
white cotton blouse and an enormous
straw hat. This was the Nell who
wasted the time of half the young
men of Stroan, and who would have
wasted the time of half the young
men of London IL they had only once
seen her. A beauty Of pure Saxon type
she was, with the opaque white skin
which the sun does not scorch or red
| den, with rose-pink cheeks, a child's
pouting mouth, and big blue eyes that
made a Young man hold his breath.
| Her hair had turned since childhood
from faxen to deeper tint, and was
now a light bronze color. There was
about her an air Of refinement as well
as modesty which could not fail to as
tonish stranger who found her in
| these strange circumstances. She saw
the newcomers long before poor Jor-
| Dan did, and she watched them ap-
proach while the unfortunate artist
toiled on at his inglorious task.
Perhaps the girl had seen the three
young men together; perhaps it was
only feminine quickness of wit which