Middlebury register. (Middlebury, Vt.) 1886-1937, 1908-03-20


the world whose company he least de-
sired.
Good morning. Lord Croyland,"
called Mr.. Michael Corrigan from the
doorway. IL just came over to look
you up"
Now. what did he want? Well what
ever 1t was. he would fnd the Texan
was not to be bluffed. Richards spir-
its actually rose. This was something
tangible that threatened, and Richard
loved to deal with the real. 1t was the
abstract that involved him in difficult
tics that he hated.
That's very kind of you. indeed"
dra wled Richard. with a ring of chal-
lenge in his voice which the lawyer
did not fail to note with concealed
amusement Fond of billiards?''
ooh. in way, yes. I'm most too
short and fat to play without the
bridge. but I'll take cue from you
with pleasure If I may"
"Now, | wonder if he means any
thing by that remark" thought Rich
ard as he handed him the stick
The game began briskly, but soon
languished. as did the conversation.
Richard making an occasional brilliant
shot and missing the easy ones. Mr.
Corrigan by steady. consistent play
ran up a good score and between times
watched his opponent out of the cor
ners of his eyes.
81 shouldn't say you were up in your
usual form. Lord Croyland. Sleep
wellY"
mo" said Richard, eagerly selling
the opportunity to speak the whole
truth and nothing but it. II didn't"
TOO bad" murmured the little man,
with an exaggerated sympathy that
did not impose on his victim, while he
gravely chalked his cue. american
beds are hard to get used to, eh?" He
received no answer and leaned across
the table for a difficult shot, paused
and regarded the young man thought
fully. Lord Croyland, l am after
certain piece of information and have
reason to believe that you can give it
to me-"
Il shall be pleased, | am sure" said
Richard. with admirably simulated in
dolence. although he was never more
keenly alive to the possibilities of a
situation in his life.
! The little man laid his cue upon the
table, busted his hands and planted
himself squarely in front of the pseudo
nobleman.
i "What-in your opinion-is the most
approved method-of branding a heif-
err"
1t was coming. then? Well, he would
admit nothing. deny everything. There
was no law of business, honor or love
to compel him to confess anything to
Mr.. Corrigan.
branding n heifer?" repeated Rich
ard vacantly while he screwed in his
monocle and stared at his companion.
"Really-'pOn my word-I'-
Michael Corrigan burst into laugh.
"Come. come. Dick How good
that monosyllable sounded after this
cursed Croyland business Now he
could understand why Bills hated to
be called Woolsey. at won't do" con
tinued Corrigan genially. I'm too old
a bird to be caught with such salt.
Out with it, boy What's the meaning
of this tOmfoolery?"
1t had come at last, then. No con
fession would be necessary With a
sudden revulsion of feeling Richard
experienced great sense of relief
Fortune had decided for him.
'Mr. Corrigan." said Richard, hold
ing out his hand-he knew when he
was beaten-while his features became
radiant with smiles. when you came
through that door awhile ago l wished
you safely in hades. Let's get out into
the sunshine | want to make a clean
breast Of it, for. to tell you the truth
I'm in the devil Of a pickle"
Mr.. Corrigan laughed again and led
the way through the front hall. On the
veranda they met Miss Harriet coming
from the garden with her arms full OF
fresh cut roses.
"Going for a walk" she asked. al
you wait moment I'd like to join
you"
Young person." said her uncle witt
mock severity. there is hardly enough
Of Lord Croyland to go around, II
ScChS We SOl lOI udll an uOuT
and I'm going to keep him. Shoo!"
He took Richards arm and led hin
along the gravel path.
SIS that the reason?" he whispered
slyly jerking his thumb in the direc
ton of his niece. Richard blushed
'Oh. you young dog. Well, | can
blame you. Dick. Great girl. ism
she?"
They had now reached a shaded
bench in secluded part OF tn,
grounds, where they seated themselve
and prepared for the confessional.
you see" began the fat little law
yer, who seemed to eXude good hume
from every pore. lat first ! couldn't ex
= actly make out what you were up to
you scamp. so | drew you out on on