The Butler weekly times. (Butler, Mo.) 1881-1918, 1906-01-11

self.
He could hear the mans voice now,
and be crouched lower, lest he might
be seen.
The poor fellow actually asked me
IL I thought a girl would wait i've
years for an absent lover, and hadn't
the heart to say what / thought
said: 'Yes-twenty years! Poor
chap, I suppose he fancies somebody
is waiting for him."
The voice ceased; and the tramp,
peering out from his hiding place, saw
that Margaret had withdrawn her
hand from the mans arm, and was
walking a little apart from him.
so she hasn't told him anything
about me. Naturally" said the tramp
to himself.
He got back to the road, and thrust
ing his hand into his pocket, his fingers
closed on the piece Of money. In an
other instant he had dashed 1t down
on the road. and was Fastening back
to the harbor.
That night he spent in an clubhouse
The next day, driven by hunger, he
went to a farm house, asking for
work, but hoping to get some food
The farmer, by way OF a joke. offered
him q Job, and seemed surprised when
he jumped at the offer.
BY degrees the tramp began to as
sumo the appearance OF q decent
working man. He wore moleskins In
stead of his old rags; on weekdays
he worked hard; but on Sundays he
went and lay on the sand and lis
tened to the surf breaking on the
beach, and dreamed.
One Sunday afternoon, a little mite
three or four years old, got surround
ed by the tide as she was building
castle on the sand. There was moi
shadow of danger. but II was i'm
possible to reach her dryshod. The
tramp waded through the water
picked up the child, and looked arsunt
for her mother.
1t was Margaret who dropped heI
book and came flying over the sands
Margaret!
He put the little one down gently
and turned away.
In q moment there was patterini
of soft footsteps behind him.
won't you let me thank you-'
Oh, Alan. it is you! Don't you know
me"
Eyes Margaret. | know you. but
thought I had better keep away from
you. I've treated you badly, preciou!
badly. But I can't stand by and SCI
you another mans wife,"
Aunt Margaret! Auntie! Me wan
'oo!" piped a childish voice. Alal
Dean gave a great start. His hear
beat wildly.
"What?" he cried. "You are no
the child's mother? You are not MI
Bannister's wife?"
mo. No, Alan. Jim Bannister mar
ried my sister. II knew you wo!ul'
came back, and / waited"
"Your uncle found out after you ha,
gone" Margaret said, as they mad
their way slowly homeward goo
hour afterwards. that he was quit
the accounts, and you were perfect,
honest. He bitterly repented hi
words to you and would have writ
ten if he had known where to address
you. He told me so himself. And I
show that he was convinced that h
had misjudged you he left you hal
share of everything he had. The hous
is yours, and the farm with it."
"Why, l thought Charley Hudso
was to have that. He was the favorit'
you know"
Eyes, but your uncle thought h
owed you some reparation for thinl
ing you had cheated him, and S
driving you away from home. He die
almost four years ago. My sister ha
been married some time before that.
And you. my dearest? What hav
you been doing?"
"Oh. l live in London now. l hav
pupils. And, l have been-waiting.
He turned suddenly and caught he
to his breast. please God, my littl
girl" he whispered, as he strained he
, yet closer to him, "our waiting day
!, are nearly over!"