The Wenatchee daily world. [volume] (Wenatchee, Wash.) 1905-1971, 1906-02-19


teven. who was, in manner Of speak
ing, quite alone in the world
Yes" said |, though the remark was
perhaps Irrelevant $50 Mr.. Green
street, his lawyer, tells me-"
Hoods glance met mine, as though
he would inquire of me; but feeling, no
doubt, that this would be too great a
liberty, his eyes reverted to the gate,
which he still held open respectfully.
Mr.. Greenstreet tells me-" | went
on, land l suppose l am free to repeat
it, that your old master has left you q
small legacy"
The man started visibly, and for a
second his dark eyes shone on mine.
He seemed almost as surprised as
had been, but he recovered his aston
ishment next minute and dropped his
gaze.
Thank you, sir. 1t is very kind of
him-Mr. Kesteven, | mean. | served
him three years, and better master
no man need want"
He paid you similar compliment"
~said l, smiling.
He was always very good to me-
SIR
He stood silent, as though for me to
enter, but as l did so he said respect
fully:
Il suppose we shall be losing you,
sir? It's a great thing for Mr.. kes-
teven to have had you with him in his
trouble
WELL" said l, with a little laugh,
which 1 really could not restrain in my
excited condition, mot just yet, Hood,
think. I'm afraid you'll have to put
up with my company for little longer
You see, Mr.. Greenstreet informs me
that am, quite Unexpectedly, left heir
to the CASTLE
If Hood were as much astonished at
this statement as at his own good for
tune, he certainly did not show it.
caught one glance of his extraordinary
eyes, and then he had turned and was
closing the gate.
I'm sure L congratulate you, sir, if
you'll pardon the liberty. The castle
wants an owner, and l hope you'll be
living here SIR
l told him l did not yet know and
rode up the park. leaving him to fix
the locks.
l had said no less than the truth
when l had answered Hoods ques-
tons, but circumstances soon made my
resolution for me. The rumor of my
Inheritance was spread about the coun-
try, and l found myself suddenly ele-
waited to new dignity in the eyes of the
neighborhood. And the first fruits of
this celebrity appeared in an unexpect-
ed visit from my young acquaintance,
Montgomery. His farm, it seemed, was
a mile or two from the castle, lying in
the next valley, and he rode over to
offer me his congratulations. 1t was
plain that he had not been so deep in
liquor as he had appeared upon that
evening at the Swan, for he was huge
ly embarrassed during the interview
and more than once offered to reflect
upon himself In somewhat deprecating
terms.
I'm not bad fellow" he was good
enough to explain, "but I'm devilish
fool. All the Montgomerys are. We've
had lot to put up with. Our estate's
no better than a barnyard. We're
pack of idiots, that's what we are, Mr..
Greatorex And when there's liquor
about Well, you know what it is"
l didn't quite follow out his mean
ing, but, on the whole. he struck me as
a very amiable fellow. hpest accord
ing to his lights, and bearing certain
jdistinction of person which. derived
from long and gentle race, could not
wholly be concealed in the dull and
uneducated individuality of its last
representative. He certainly knew a
great deal about horses, and as d re-