The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1905-02-10

| travelled. The shrieks OF the engines
at work in the yards could be heard al
DAY and all night, and the rattle OF the
jangling cars, as heavy as thunder at
first, and gradually dying away down
the tracks, was familiar sound in the
little house on the hill. The wife of the
magistrate sat there hours at a time,
watching the tops of the cars and scan
ming the freight trains as they came in.
The brakemen ran along the tops or
moving trains, twisting brake here and
loosening one here, waving their arms
and giving signals in pantomime.
1t was because she once had heard
that their son became railroad brake
man that the wife of the justice of the
peace sat and watched the trains all day
and listened to their noises at night
When Micajah Bolean was away from
the house she wept silently many times
and felt as though her old heart would
break. 1t would have been relief to
have talked about the missing boy, but
his father never permitted his name to
be mentioned.
So she watched the faces OF the brake
men, hoping that the lost boy would
some day come back and steal into the
house. She was prim old lady, always
neat and clean, but she knew that if ever
he came home and slippedi into the house
while his father was away, she would
take him in her arms as she had when
he was child, even though he were as
black with smoke and CRIME as any OF
the brakemen or firemen she could see
from her window.
1t had been 20 years since lie went
away, and in all that time the stern old
man had not once relented. The while
haired mother had often tried to imagine
how her son looked with those years
added to his age. She knew he would be
large and strong, and she thought his
eyes would still be bright and his face
as cheerful and smiling as the boy she
remembered so we'll.
One night a man whose face was COW
cred with a thick growth of beard, in
which there were Streaks of gray,
slouched through the streets. His
clothes were ragged his eyes downcast
and his hair unkeDlpt. He was vag-
rant, and as he walked he cast furtive
glances about to see that no officer was
in sight. He came from the direction OF
the railroad yards and crept through the
weeds growing rank and tall back Of
M1icajah Bolean's house. His feet, co.,
cred by ragged Shoes made no sound as
he stepped upon the porch, where he
stood looking in through the window.
The vagrant uncovered his head as he
stood there, He saw Micajah Bolean
and his wife, sitting with the weight of
years upon them. He waited for the
sound of their voices, and when Micajah
Bolean spoke he noted the firm, harsh
tone-the same harsh voice that many
a vagrant had heard when he was SEN
fenced to Jail.
1t was when the aged woman spoke,
in sad, sweet voice, that the tears
started to the vagrants eyes. He.made
a step toward the door, but drew back
when his ragged garments came within
range of the shaft of dim light through
the window.
Down in the railroad yards he could
hear the noise of the moving trains, the
clang of bells and the shrieking signals
of the engines. In an interval of silence
in all that jargon of noise-an interval
SO brief that only practiced ear could
detect it-he heard clear note whistled
as q signal to himself. 1t sounded far
away, for at that moment the vagrant
was dreaming, and in the dream he was
a boy again.
He looked once more through the
window at the two old people sitting
there, and with sigh that would have
wrung even the hard heart of MicajaA
Bolean, he turned away.
A few moments later the vagrant
climbed upon car loaded with coal and
was followed by another man, very like
him in appearance. AS he stretched
himself out on the hard bed the speed. OF
the train increased. His companion
crawled close to him and asked:
What luck, Bill? Did you get any,
thing?"
The vagrant did not answer. lie was
looking up at the stars, shining down on
them from a clear, blue sky. He did not
even hear the words of his companion
National Magazine.