The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1905-08-30

IS D would have been hard to
: find three persons who be,
NOS lieved there was any good
In Fred Wildburn. A rude, ungoverned
child; lawless, vicious youth; a reck-
less, dissipated man. In all his thirty
years of life he had done no good thing
that anyone ever remembered of him.
The people of Milestone were very
moral sort of people, and did not hesi-
tate to give this one Ishmaelite to un-
derstand the impossible gulf that lay
between themselves and him, both in
time and eternity. Perhaps it tended
to improve his heart and temper; but
doubt ii.
Among the inhabitants was family
of the name of Upton. From time inn
memorial there had been a feud be-
tween the Wildburns and Uptons, kept
alive and aggravated by each success
sive generation. A great many years
before Wildburn and an Upton had
married sisters, and through some nice
biz of diplomacy on the part of Upton,
his wife was made heiress to the pa
ternal fortune and the wife Of Wild
burn cut off with paltry hundred
dollars.
Later, Henry Upton had succeeded in
getting the whole of a large legacy,
left by some distant relative, which
should have been equally divided be-
tween Fred Wildburn and himself.
Naturally, this tended to widen the
breach, and fearful and bitter were the
vows of vengeance which Fred
breathed against Upton.
Indeed, his ungovernable passion
might have led him TO some act of
personal violence, but for one restrain
ing influence.
Ten years before the commencement
of our tale, when Fred Wildburn was
about twenty years old, he had one of
his wrists broken in a fight he had
himself provoked. His mother was,
and had been for years, a bedridden
invalid, with an intellect weakened
by long illness and abuse-for her hus-
band drank heavily at times, and liquor
made him wild and furious
hc blohtn lilnb WAS SET ny II SUIT
geon in a nelghboring town; but the
prospect of payment being exceedingly
small, he paid very little subsequent
attention to his patient. 1t was warm
weather, and the arm was badly torn
and bruised besides, and needed daily
attention. Good, charitable, pious peo-
pie, who gave munificently for the
amelioration Of the heather thousands
OF miles away, turned with disgust
from this heather at their own doors
Timid women shrank from entering
the house, because, perchance, old
Wildburn might be on one of his "ca-
rouses;" and so the bruises became
1nfamed, and the danger that the arm
would have to come off grew immi-
nent. Fred wasn't used to bearing
pain, and raved fearfully, while the
weak-minded invalid cried and fretted
by turns, and Wildburn senior drank
more perseveringly than ever.
Into this pandemonium there came
one morning slight, delicate girl.
bearing little roll of snowy linen in
her hands.
II have come TO dress your arm,
Fred" she said, quietly, laying aside
her white sunbonnet, and revealing a
thin, rather pale face, with steady,
fearless brown eyes.
"Whc sent you here, Bessie Bran
don?' asked the elder Wildburn, in a
clustering voice.
mo one, sir. l came because !
thought it right for me to come
Frederick will lose his arm, unless il
Is cared for speedily"
Let him lose it, then,' was the
gruff answer.
''Not if can help it, sirw
And the brown eyes were lifted fear
1essly to his face.
Muttering something about "meddlinc
neighbors," he seized his hat and stag
gered out of the room, and Bessie al
once set herself to the work of caring
for the wounded arm.
1t was shocking sight and the firm
lips grew just a little white as shv
stripped off the matted bandages; bu
her white fingers were steady and cool
as she carefully washed the arm
bathed it in some liniment she hat
brought with hei, and swathed it nice
" and carefully in the cool, soft linel
she had brought for the pdrpose.
"Why. it doesn't feel like the sans
ARM Fred exclaimed, when she hat
finished; and involuntarily be glanced