Waterbury evening Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury [Connecticut]) 1903-1917, 1904-08-10


simmon trees on the edge of the road
and walk toward him. He was almost
a nervous wreck; his eyes were blood
shot and his gray hair disheveled.
IT couldn't wait fer you to git to
town." he said, looking up and down
the road furtively, as if afraid some
one might be coming, "and SO walked
out. come away from the warehouse
Jest after breakfast, an I've been
walkin' through them woods over thar
ever since. Once fell In a deep ditch.
I thought 1t was Gods mercy an that
it was all goin' to be over, but I
didn't git a scratch. You notice keep
talkin'. It's beca'se I'm afeard to look
at you or let you speak.
''You haven't thing to fear, Mr..
Hillyer.'' Buckley dismounted and
stood by his employer, his arm through
the bride.
'tYou didn't see Williams 7"
eyes, saw him and had long talk
with him. He said you were the best
man he had ever known in his life
and that he'd rather die than harm you
in any way. He would have come to
see you, he said, but he thought you
might mot want to be reminded of the
past. He actually cried when told
him Of your sufferings. He said 1t was
your influence that had made him try
to lead better life. He said his
protection OF you In that case was
the one thing In all his life that he
was proud Of He declared he would
do it over again. He's got into some
new religion I don't know what 1t
is, but it is not exactly orthodox. He
says it would have been wrong to pun
ish a man for a thing he regretted
as much as you did that act and that
he was glad he yielded to the impulse
to help you"
ooh, George, you don't mean
A great sob rose in Hillyer's breast
and burst; his red eyes were full of
tears.
"He says he is proud Of what he did
to save you from further trouble, Z
George went OH tenderly. He says II
you had gone to prison for life 1t would
have wrecked your career, but that his
testimony spared you to go on better
ing the world He's heard a lot about
you. He says he runs across somebody
every day that you've helped in one
way and another, and when / came
right out and told him-yes told him
how near I was to the brink not long
ago and how you saved me when he
heard that he actually sobbed and said,
Bully old man; bully, bully old mani !"
The merchant caught the name Of
the horse in his quivering fingers and
leaned forward till his face touched
the neck of the animal.
Goods good, George; Gods good!'
he sobbed.
Buckley put his arm on the old mans
shoulder caressingly.
Now get on the horse and ride
home" he said r want to stretch
my legs. They are stir"
Nor Hillyer looked up, his face
radiant. You ride. I want to. go back
In the woods an pray an shout. I
don't want to go home now. / want
to thank my Maker. I may not come
to dinner. I'll fast. May God bless
you, my boy"
George mounted the horse, and as he
rode away he saw the old man plunge
into the woods at the roadside, his
hands clasped before him, his lips in
motion.
Buckley did not see his employer
again until about 2 o'clock in the aft
ernoon Then he came in slowly and
sank into his chair at his desk and
took up the letters George had left
there for him. There was a general
droop of dependency on him, and he
handled the letters with listless mat
| tention.
"Wheat's still a-cIimbin'," he said, a
little note of qualification in his voice
as he allowed a thin market report to
fiutter from his hand to wastebas-
ket- "pm glad O. that, George, fer it
backs yore judgment. wonder what
Kenner thinks now
both he and Hanks are urging me
to get you to sell" replied the young
/ man.
well, you kin bet won't till you
tell me to on yore judgment"
| well, / can't do that yet, Mr.. Hill
YER
| Then George saw the old man push
back the letters ON his desk, half Of
/ which he had not opened, and low,
stifed groan escaped his lips. Buckley
got down from his high stool and went
and leaned over him.
HAS anything happened since left
you, Mr.. Hillyer anything to-upset
| your"
The merchant gave him steady
look. mo, cayn't say anything has
happened anything, at least, like you
mean but my thoughts have happen
ed, George. Fer about hour after
you left me out In the woods was
| jest too happy fer anything, but after
awhile got to thinkin'. got to won
derin' what I was SO happy about, any
way, an the thought come to me like
lick from club in the dark that it
/ was jest beca'se I lowed / was goin'
to escape the consequences o. my deed
without undoin' It George, cayn't
never-never-never give back that
boys life, an he had as much right to
| 1t as I have to the content I'm prayin'
fer right now. Huh! What difference
l does III make tO-t0 1I1a dead how YraY1ch