Los Angeles herald. [microfilm reel] (Los Angeles [Calif.]) 1900-1911, 1908-05-17
j Q

the man, "and he sort of pre-empted the old
cabin. He lived like hermit, and never had
anything to do, with anybody. He used to
wander about the. woods. with his wild eyes
and long, white hair, muttering to himself
about being terribly wronged, terribly wrong
ed, all the while. One night the old cabin
burned down."
"Did he escape?" asked 10, the tremor in
his voice betraying his agitation.
"Oh, yes; for we saw him tramping away
from town the next day. Some one wrote to
Squire Lane about Morris. and L think the
squire knew a good deal regarding him and
his private affairs"
That was all well enough but Squire Lane
had gone South for his health, and would not
return for six months; and, as he was travel
ing from one place to another, 10 could not
be sure that letter would reach him.
The boy determined to remain in Newton
and patiently await the squire's return. Then
he hoped to secure some definite clue to his
fathers whereabouts. If demented, surely
no duty in life was so pressing upon 10 Nor
ris as the care of the only near relative left
to him.
Often be had visited the ruins of the old
cabin. Now accident had revealed a part OF
tin box, bearing his fathers name.
No wonder 10 was excited, and no won
der that his own troubles were forgotten in
the anxious search for some documents, proof
Of his fathers former residence and mysterious
hermit life at Newton.
Nat Davis's ten minutes grew to an hour,
the gray east became rosy, and morning
notes of birds and insects filled the woods.
Still 10 worked on and on at the tree. Chip
by chip he cut and hacked.
At last an aperture large enough to admit
his arm was formed In the trunk of the hol-
low old oak.
His fingers tingied as he CROPPED within
the cavity. Dead wood and leaves were all
he felt at first; then his hand grasped cold,
metallic surface.
Its box!" he exclaimed. cts got
something in it. Oh, who but my father,
who lived in the very, cabin this tree shaded,
could have hidden 1t here?"
A cry of dismay ended the excited SEN
teHce.
| 10 had brought to light coverless tin box.
In the glowing radiance of early morning its
contents showed papers. but papers old and
mouldy and worm-eaten, a widowed, time
defaced mass without definite form or cohe-
rency of contents.
His face paled as he carefully lifted layer
after layer of damp, faded paper, crumb-
ling to pulp in his hands as he did so.
His fathers writingi He recognized that
Here part of letter, there newspaper clip
ping, faded bit of ribbon.
"Meserye deceived me-robbed- uncle
wealth-go and see Percival-LanHord Ter
race-broken life-hermit- Justice"
These were the DISCOUNTED words the frag-
ments showed the name OF Percival, Percival,
Percival appearing everywhere.
10 uttered sigh of the deepest disappoint-
ment when he reached the bottom of the box
The papers had lain too, long in their
dark hiding-place. The wood mouse and the
slug had devoured their precious secret, and
only the fragments of mystery, perchance
tragedy, remained in perplexing skeleton
outline.
A broad-banded ring, apparently of cop
per, was all the box contained besides the
remnants of paper.
| It had large agate stone in a curious set
ting. This bore the initials 81 NJ"
his missing father, placed it in his pocket
and arose to his feet with blank. disheart-
ened look on his face.
Nat Davis's accidental discovery had only
proyen what 10 already knew-that his father
had once lived at the old cabin. That was