The Owosso times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1897-1926, 1906-05-25

prison, but opened the fire o. hell upon
me. Eelf year had gone by an not a
word from the kidnapers. l took
note to the place appointed-a hollow
log in the woods a bit east of q GER
tain bridge on the public highway
twenty miles out O. the city-but no
answer, not word, not line, up to
this moment. They must have relin-
quished hope an put the boy to death.
"In that old trunk there under the
bed Is a dusty, molding, cursed heap o.
money done up in brown paper an tied
with a string. 1t is 100000 an the
price o. me SOUL
"'An' thou in rags an a garrett
said l.
"He drew out the trunk an showed
me the money, stacks of 1t, dirty an
sinking o. damp mold.
""There 1t is said he, every dollar !
stole Is there. l brought it with me an
over these hundreds o. miles / could
hear the tongue o. gossip. Every night
as / lay down l could hear the whis-
pering of all the people l ever knew.
I could see them shake their heads.
Then came this locket O. gold
"a beautiful, shiny thing 1t was, an
he took out Of it a little strand O. white
hair an read these words cut in the
cleaning case:
Here are silver and gold,
The one for day o. remembrance be-
tween thee an dishonor
The other for day o. plenty between thee
an want.
at was an odd thought an worth
keeping, an often I have repeated the
words. The silvered hair, that was for
remembrance, an the gold he might
sell an turn 1t into day o plenty.
SIN the locket was q letter. said the
poor man. Here it is an he held it in
the light O. the candle. See, it is sign
ed Mother
"An' he read from the letter words o.
sorrow an bitter shame an firm con-
fidence in his honor.
"'It ground me to the very dust he
went on. put the money in that
bundle, every dollar. / could not re-
turn it an so confirm the disgrace o.
her an all the rest. / could not use 1t,
for If I lived in comfort they would
ask-all o. them-whence came his
money? For their sake 1 must walk
in poverty all me days. An went to
work at heavy toll. sor, as became
poor man. AS Gods me judge, felt
pride in rags an the horny hand"
The tinker paused a moment, In
which all the pendulums seemed to
quicken pace, tick tapping upon tick,
as If trying to get ahead of each other
"Think of 1t, boy" Darrell continued.
"a pride in rags an poverty. Bring
that into thy book an let thy best
thinking bear upon 1t. Show us how
patch an latter were for the poor man
as badges Of honor an success.
"T thought to burn the money me
host went on. But no; that would
have robbed me O. one great pOssibili-
ty-that O. restoring it. Some time,
when they were dead, maybe, an l
could suffer alone, or when some lucky
chance might come to me, l would re-
store the money, but 1 could not find
the owners of it. Day an night these
slow an heavy years 1t has been here,
cursing an accusing me.
az lie here o. nights thinking. In
that heap o. money seem to hear the
signs an sobs o. the poor people that
toiled to earn 1t. feel their sweat up
on me, an, God, this heart o. mine is
crowded to bursting with the despair
o. hundreds! An, betimes hear the
cry o. murder in the cursed heap as If
there were some had blood upon it.
An then l dream it has caught fire be-
meath me, an am burning raw in the
flame
The tinker paused again, crossing the
room and watching the swing of pen
dulum.
"Boy, boy" said he, returning to his
chair, "think o. that complaining, i'm
heap lying there like the blood
of murder! An thy reader must
feel the toll an sweat an misery an
despair that is In great sum, an how
it all presses on the heart o. him that
gets 1t wrongfully.
"'Well, sor,' the poor fellow contin-
ued, now an then 1 met those had
known me, an reports O. me poverty
went home. An those dear to me sent
the sight o. which filed me
with q mighty sickness, an l sent 1t
back to them. Long ago, thank God,
they ceased to think me a thief, but
only crazy. Tell me, man, what shall
l do with the money? There be those
living have to consider, an those dead
an those unborn
"'Hide It, said I, AN go to thy work,
an God give thee COUNSEL"
Man and boy rose from the table and
drew up to the little stove.
"Now, boy" said the clock tinker,
leaning toward him with knitted brows,
consider this poor thief who suffered
SO for his friends. Think o. these good
words, Greater love hath no man than
this that he lay down his life for his
If thou shouldst ever write
Of 1t, thy problem will be to reckon the
good an evil an give each careful
an him his proper rank"
What sad taller said the boy |
"It's terrible to think he
may be my father. Please tell me when |
was the boy taken"
thine or name or place l cannot tell |