Twice-a-week plain dealer. (Cresco, Howard County, Iowa) 1895-1913, 1907-09-06

shoot him, Sir. Not that believe you
meant it," And to show his belief he
dropped the terrier, whereupon Dain-
tree hesitated, but presently retreated
to his room without word.
The dog was spared They sat down
at last to- cool dishes that should have
been hot, and their mutual ardor had
suffered with the viands. Dalntree
was very solemn and very stiff, his
hapless companion quite certain that
he had given mortal and everlasting Of
Tense. But the incident was never re-
ferred to again, and Tom soon forgot
the solitary occasion upon which his
champion displayed himself In so sin
lister light.
Not that the other lights were all
rose colored. The man had foibles in
Vulnerable and in their way as ex-
traordinary as his inexpllcable kind
ness to Tom. This continued and In
creased. and yet there was some
thing ostentatious, vainglorious. ego
tistical, even In his kindest acts. Tom
hated himself for seeing it, but there it
was. 1t became the more noticeable
as Tom himself grew more regenerate
and so made fewer demands upon the
others consideration. And then the
gloomy vanity Of the man! His lit
erary pretensionsl His solemn belief
in himself md all he didl
Heaven knows he has done enough
for me!' sighed Tom, quite ashamed.
II must try to see nothing else, but
what l can't help seeing shall never,
never, never make any difference to
my regard for him."
Tom wanted to get to work at once,
in the house, in the garden, anywhere
and at anything, but the other would
not hear of 1t for days. He was to
rest and forget and to enjoy his life.
They made excursions together in the
curricle or in Daintree's boat. Tom
would have been almost happy If he
only could have given his kind compan-
ion the heart whole admiration which
the latter took for granted. And his
inability in that respect was SO real
grief to him he could have wept at it.
and at the others kindness put togeth-
er, but there was still not tear in his
heart. He often wondered was there.
any heart left in his body. What he
deemed his lngratitude seemed some
times to prove that there was not.
There were qualities he could honest
~ admire in Daintree, but they were
not those qualities upon whose possess
sion Daintree most prided himself. He
was man of iron nerve and will.
That was undoubted. One day in a
squall near the Heads he handled the
boat with magnificent GOODNESS and
skill when Tom thought they must
both have gone to the sharks. When
they landed safe and sound, he inflict-
ed SO many Of his poems upon Tom,
whom the salt breezes had overcome
with drowsiness, that the pantry and
the knives to clean seemed preferable
to such nightly ordeals. Tom asked to
be put into livery and to work at once.
He insisted upon 1t and gained his
point through the accidental touch Of
livery"
They drove into Sydney next day
with specimens Of the family crest,
which Tom was to bear on every but
ton. Daintree being magistrate, a
cockade was duly included in the or
der, and for time the master was in
high feather at the prospective dis
play. But it recalled family troubles
ere long, and all the way home lie
talked dismally Of himself as an "exile
like Byron-my literary second SELF"
Somebody had once called him Gown
brother to Byron" He never tired Of
quoting the phrase. He was destitute
of humor and made Tom blush for
him where he would have shaken with
laughter at another.
His contrariety was unique. Not
only was he good magistrate spoilt
through neglecting the bench for his
desk, but an old athlete who Dragged
about the poetry he could not write
instead Of about the races he had real
ly Won. On the top of his bookshelf
stood the row of furnished silver cups,
and his proud eye climbed no higher
than the volume or two Of mediocre
verse underneath. He made little
enough Of his genuine triumphs, his
renl abilities, but he would talk with
bated breath of few stanzas which
often rhymed us false as they rang
Once Tom cleaned the cups when DAM
tree was out. and he few into some
thing very like rage when he came
In and saw them. BE was the most
unaccountable Of men.
Still lie is the kindest," was Toms
reflection on the top of that conclusion,
and the same night he not only made
another of his poor attempts at thank
Ing Daintree for all that he was doing
and had done; lie at last put the ques-
ton which seemed to mark stride
III his slow and uphill return from
brute to man. And vet even now IL
was no very sincere curiosity, but
rather nm uncomfortable feeling that
he ought to seem curious, which
prompted him to say:
II can't understand your kindness to
me. Why did you begin 1t? Why do
you go on? I wonder what made you
take MI interest In me at the start!''
Wonder was the word, for wonder
he did, but keenly inquisitive he was
not, and the stride was shorter than
1t had looked.
II believed in your Innocence" re-
Piled Daintfee with elaboration; shat
was al"
Il can't think why. You were the
only one. Yet you knew nothing about
me, it seems" And still his tone was
that Of purely impersonal speculation.