The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1903-04-03
BY q Ralph.
MY name is Spencer Lockwood; my pro-

BY E. Ralph.
MY name Is Spencer Lockwood; my pro-
fession the law.
AS a parrister. not altogether briefless,
/ fluid 1t more difficult every year, even IN
vacation time, to get away from the Bid
die temple for my annual fortnight holl-
day.
Last year 1t was a toss-up whether ]
should be able to go at all, so that it was
much to my satisfaction that I found my
I self one weekend comfortably settled In
snug quarters at the old fashioned Kings
Head hotel, Overcoombe, Bucks, in the
very heart Of the lovely Vale Of Ayles-
bury.
I congratulated myself upon having
left pleas" plants" and all things
legal far behind, for a time at n rate.
absolutely unsuspicious that I was on the
" OF becoming a leading actor In a
stranger criminal drama than I had ever
played in, in my capacity as advocate, at
the Old Bailey.
by Jove!" I said to myself as I sat at
the open window after dinner on the even
ing of my arrival and watched a young
lady, accompanied by an elder one, pass
ing up the main street toward the railway
station, that's the sweetest looking girl
I have seen for many q day.! Wonder
who she is? Thought I knew pretty well
4 4SSSA SDCdSj /. Wy oASA aI AGdots &SNSA-
coombe. I'll ask Jackson; perhaps he
knows; or, rather, he's sure to know"
AS Overcoombe had been my yearly
place of retreat for the past five or six
years, Jackson, the landlord Of the Kings
Head, knew me well, and would have no
hesitation in enlightening me as to the
identity Of the +; stranger.
THAT, sir!' said Jackson, sis Mrs. Rus
sell and her daughter"
RUSSELL" I said. Russell! I don't re-
member the name."
Like as not, sir; they've only been
here about six months; since Just after
| Christmas"
''They look like quite superior people.
Jackson"
They are, Sir. Mrs. Russell, SO I've
heard, is the widow of a captain in the
navy, and. I should say, is pretty well
off,
Where do they liver,
You know that old brick house, sir, on
the Aylesbury road, half a mile the other
sid of the station?"
It know; the place that was empty for
so long. 'Sandilands' is the name of It, I
think
That's 1t, sir! Well, that's where they
live. The old lady's a bit soft-headed, so
they say. hasn't q soul above tea-table
gossip, and is about the worst mother a
young girl could possibly have, according
to my humble opinion"
All this only whctted my curiosity to
know more Of the young lady, a desire
which the next day was gratitled through
the good Offices Of a mutua friend, who
introduced me to Miss Russell.
She was young; i'll fact, barely 81. She
was good looking, too, but wore, I
thought, a depressed and nxiou express
sion. Naturally I concluded that she was
In i'll health. q victim perhaps to the gage
ties Of the London season. Later on I
limited as much to Mrs. Russell, who, as it
seemed to me, with somewhat heartless
Indifference deprecated the idea In no
measured terms.
Meta Russell and I became very good
friends, but came no nearer to getting at
the reason Of her trouble. Her TRANCE
ness OF manner haunted me, n yet,
after all. | thought, why should I worry
about It? 1t did not concern me.
Butt was not able to satisfy myself so
easily. was Obliged to confess that my
interest in Meta Russell was stronger
than L a imagined. I was not In love
with her; the Idea was absurd, having
regard to the shortness of the acquaint-
ance, though she peculiarly Interested me.
and 1~Searnestly wished to be Of service to
her.
An exploring pedestrian Of the ardent
order. was making my way toward the
end Of hew week through what was locally
known as the Nut Scrub"
This was at least a square mile IL not
more OF dense hazel bushes, through
which ran a narrow strip Of path.
I was about half way through this leafy
tangle when I heard voices within a
| stones throw OF me.
One OF them was evidently a woman's.
and, for the life OF me, I could not shake
on the impression that I knew Its owner.
The other was that Of an uneducated. II
not vulgar, man.
Very well, Mrs. Forester, the latter
was saying. I've give you Jacks mes
sage, and you'll only have yourself to
blame il you don't do as he a Which,
shall 7 tell him, IL Il to be; you to 20 back
to him, or-what I think'll suit him Just as
We'll, or, perhaps, better-that you send
him, by me, five hundred pounds before
the end Of next week?'
"Neither!" replied the woman. in raised,
decisive tones. 'and you may tell him
SOP
You'd best listen to reason" pcrsua-
sively replied the other. Jack Forester
is a dangerous customer to cross. and ]
know as he'll never let you alone, or leave
you, II you don't DO one or the other OF
them two things"
Well! you have my last wordl I will
do neither, and any attempt to modest me
In any way will only bring trouble to you
and to him"
Have you any money about you now p
"No; and If I had I would not give Il
you"
"Supposing I were to AXE 1t! This Is a
pretty lonely spot; nobody could hear you,
I fancy!,
It was Meta Russell without a doubt
and, unless T was mistaken. in sore strait
from some Matchmaking ruffian. THAI he
addressed her as Mrs. Forester did no,
for the moment appeal to me.
Forcing my way, in breakneck fashion,
through the intervening scrub, in the al
rection Of the voices. I came face to face
with Miss Russell and her threatener.
Don't be too sure Of that" / cried, adj
dressing the latter, a truculent-looking,
fashtly-dressed specimen Of the genus
cockney. II have overheard quite enough
to know that you are int1midating this
lady, and I warn you that If you dom,
sheer off on the instant it will be the worse
for YOU"
h fellow looked me up and down, as
II to calculate probabilities, but, judg-
Ing discretion to be the wiser course. with
a jeering defiant laugh, disappeared in the
thfcket to the right.
The immediate strain lifted. Meta Rms.