CanÌƒon City record. [volume] (CanÌƒon City, Colo.) 1883-192?, 1904-02-25

progress, and wide were the eyes and
deep the gasps of astonishment caused
by his festal appearance. 1fr. Tibbs
and his sister rushed from the post
office to stare after him.
.'He looks Just beautiful, Solomon"
said Miss Tibbs.
Harkless usually ate his breakfast
alone, as he was the latest riser in
Plattville. There were days in the
winter when he did not reach the hotel
until 8 o'clock. This morning he found
a bunch Of white roses. still wet with
dew and no fragrant that the whole
room was fresh and sweet with their
odor. prettily arranged In bowl on
the table, and at his plate the largest
of all with a pin through the stem. He
looked up .smilingly and nodded at the
red faced. red haired waitress who was
waving long fly brush over his head
THANK you. Charmion." he said
That's very pretty"
THAT old Mr.. Windy was here" she
answered. ''and he left word for you to
look out. The whole possetucky of
Johnsons from the Crossroads passed
his house this mornin'. comm this
way. and be see Bob Skillet on the
square when he got to town. He left
them flowers Mrs. Windy sent 'em to
ye. / didn't bring EN-"
Thank you for arranging them"
She turned even redder than she al
ways was and answered nothing. Wig
orousiy darting her brush at an imag-
inary fly on the cloth After several
minutes she said abruptly. You're wei
come"
There was a silence. finally broken
by long. gnsping sigh Astonished.
he looked at the girl Her eyes were
set unfathomably upon his pink tie.
The wand had dropped from her nerve
less hand. and she stood rapt and i'm
movable. She started violently from
her trance. "Aia't ye Goin' to nnish
yer coffeeT' she asked, plying her in
strument again. AMI. bending slightly
whispered. Say. Eph Watts is OVER
there behind ye.'
AT a table In far corner OF the roSm
large gentleman in a brown frock
coat was quietly eating his breakfast
and reading the Herald. lie was OF an
ornate presence, though entirely neat.
A sumptuous expanse Of linen exhibit
ed itself between the lapels Of his low
cut waistcoat. and an inch Of bedia-
monded breastpin glittered there like
an ice ledge on a snowy mountain side.
he had steady blue eye and a dissi.
pated iron gray mustache. This per
sonage was Mr.. EphrsiIm Watts. who.
following a calling more fashionable in
the eighteenth century than In the lat
ter decades of the nineteenth. had
shaken the dust of Carlow from his
feet some three years previously at the
strong request OF the authorities. The
Herald had been particularly insistent
upon his deportation In the local
phrase. HarkIess had run him out o.
town" Perhaps 1t was because the
Herald's opposition. as the editor had
explained at the time. had been mere
ly moral and impersonal.- and the ed
itor had confessed to liking for the
unprofessionaI qualities of Mr.. Watts.
that there was but slight embarrass-
ment when the two gentlemen met to-
day. His breakfast finished. Hnrkless
went over 70 the other and extended
her breath and ciuiched the back OF
chair. However. Mr.. Watts made no
motion toward his well known hip
pocket Instead he rose. flushing slight
ly. and accepted the ha nd offered him.
I'm glad to see you. Mr.. Watts"
said the journalist cordially. "And
also. II you are running with the cir