The Manning times. [volume] (Manning, Clarendon County, S.C.) 1884-current, 1902-12-10
CHAPTER VII.

CHAPTER VII.
TIE MYSTERY 'oF THE COLLAR OF DLA-
MoNDs.
|AHERE are those who detect
81 sense of humor in the fates.
81 The old Greeks called them
the eumenides (well wishers),
which was an obvious attempt to make
them smile. I do not wish to decide
whether such view of the matter is
justified by the facts, but I will ven
ture to assert upon my own obserTa-
ton that if the fates care at all for
jest they prefer man like old Sam
Kelvin for the subject Of it. Already
he had figured once in this role, and 1t
was not enough.
Kelvin is pawn in the game who
fancies himself the player. He is such
a man as is fond of saying: "1f I were
poor tomorrow, should be rich again
in a year. You cannot keep a good
man down" Or this, "If you ask me
for the secret Of my success in the
world" ETC., when you haven't asked
him and have no interest in the process
by which an unsuccessful man became
a successful hog. am convinced that
the fates do relish an occasional prank
with such a man, and the affair Of the
collar Of diamonds which I am about
to lay before the reader is case in
point.
It was in the middle Of July, nearly
q month after the advent Of the hel-
wins in Tunbridge. Upon an especially
beautiful morning was taking my
usual walk before breakfast and had
gone up to the cemetery on the hill.
There, from the grave Of my wife, that
is covered with flowers at this season,
arise both my sorrow and the strength
to bear it. am not somber man.
always come away from that spot win
the drumbeat of courage and Of striV-
ing in my heart, after the excellent
military custom
NV way home led me past the Slough
ton place, now called ''kelvln Elms.
Those fine old elms were quite wen
grown, I judge, when KelTin's grand
father was building sawm1ll in Penn.
sylyania. He was q carpenter ana
built the mill for another man and then
cot it away from him by some sort OF
hocus pocus. l looked the matter up
ont of curiosity. Sam kelvin's father
inherited the sawmill, but not the ca
pacity for hocus pocus. The lattel
skipped q generation, so the saWmi!i
passed out Of the family with other IL
gotten goods, and the present proprl-
etor Of The Elms was born poor.
His first success was rather shady
transaction in coal lands, and after
ward he associated himself with pow
erful men and rose with them.
The present Mrs. Kelvin comes OF a
good family, but is herself a sharp
shrewd, selfish woman. She has little
beauty Of character or person, and her
husband has none, but from that union
has sprung as fair and lovable girl
as ever sladdened the eyes and the
heart Of a man. Nature performs these
miracles once in awhile. In the GEM
etery where I had just been walking
the very sweetest rosebush grows from
the dust of the soureSt rascal ever Ialo
away to rest there. refer to Ezra
Walmsley, the miser, and shall nave
occasion to speak Of him later, for the
claim that he made to the Stoughton
estate during bis life is an essential
feature Of the present narrative. There
he lies, at any rate, and there is the
rosebush to prove that his dust is as
good as any mans for rose culture, ana
this despite the well founded legend
that he sold his right hand to Satan
and paid the forfeit.
While skirting the east wall OF Tne
Elms I caught a glimpse OF Oonalo
near the south gate. 1t was no sur
prise to see him abroad at such an
hour, for Donald is an carly riser.
like that habit. The world looks best
in the morning, and early rising argues
appreciation. Moreover, 1t shows cour-
age and a healthy view. have heard
a cynic claim to prove that life is not
worth living by the fact that vast
majority of all humanity put OF living
as long as they can every morning,
living abed to the last minute and coax-
ing sleep, which the Latins called tine
image of death" If the cynic had
possessed a logical mind and had Inn
tied his conclusion to the scope Of his
evidence, I would have been willing to
agree with him in the proposition
which he really had established-name'
", that the life Of the sluggard is not
worth living. That sort Of person neV'
er wants to get up and begin the day.
Donald is no sluggard. He often
joins me in my morning walks, but ne
has not shown fondness for the VI
Gnity Of The Elms, and I was sur
prised to see him lettering by KelTin's
gate. When I turned the corner OF
the wall, saw that Donald was talk
ing with Amy Kelvin, and this was an
explanation of his presence which was
harder to credit than the original phe-
nomenon, unexplained, as often hap
pens.
I was not prepared to belieTe that
they had met there by accident, still
less that they had met there by design,
but it must have been one or the other,
for there they were. Little Miss kei-
vim was sitting on rock about the
size of bushel basket, and her back
was supported by the wall. Donald
leaned against a tall stone pillar OF
the gate and looked down into the
girls face. Their manner indicated
that they were busily blowing the soap
bubbles Of youthful sentiment, fragile,
beautiful, floating away on the air,
not meant to be handled like the toys