Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1908-10-01

oD 'A0AAa PAoSI1Se, Iue CUT Ol Ills SOll
fannels, the immaculate elegance Of
his motor car, ever the white carna-
tlon he affected in his buttonhole,
made him for the younger men a good
ly pattern of the cloth, and it had
speedily grown to be the fashion to
hear the brilliant young minister.
Something Of all this was in the law
yer's mind as he paused-a perfunctory
pause-before he continued:
Il do give and bequeath the sum Of
$1,000 and the memory Of his misspent
youth"
Harry Sanderson's eyes had wan
dered from the chair to the slim fig
ure of the girl who sat by the screen.
This was Jessica Holme, the orphaned
daughter of a friend Of the old mans
early years, who had recently come to
the house in the aspens to fill the void
left by Hugh's departure. Harry could
see the contour Of throat and wrists,
n Wild rose mesh Of the skin against
the Romney blue gown, the plenteous
red bronze hair uncoiled and falling in
a single braid and the shadowy pathos
of her eyes. Clear hazel eyes they
were, wide and full. but there was in
them no depth Of expression, for Jes-
sica Holme was blind. AS the crisp,
deliberate accent pointed the judicial
period as with a subterranean echo of
%irrefutable condemnation Harry saw
her under lip indrawn, her hands clasp
fiDhf1u fhnn y1nol0c on IN bov1oo D1so~&
graceful hands, he thought, which ever
blindness could not make maladroit.
Go on" rasped the old man.
1.-THE residue of my estate, real and
personal, l do give and bequeath to
my ward, Jessica Holme"-
He broke off suddenly, for the girl
was kneeling by the chair cropping for
the restless hand that wandered on the
afghan and crying in a strained, agi-
tated voice: "No-no-you must not!
He is your son.
elm the eyes of the law, yes. But
not otherwise" His voice rose. "What
has he done to deserve anything from
me? What has he bad all his life but
kindness? And how has he repaid it?
BY being a waster and a prodigal. By
setting me in contempt and finally by
forsaking me in my old age for his
w paths of ribaldry."
The girl shook her head. You don't
know where he is now or what he is
doing. Oh, he was wild and reckless, l
have no doubt. but when he quarreled
and left you wasn't it perhaps because
he was too quick tempered? And if he
hasn't come back isn't it perhaps be-
cause he is too proud?"
"Jessica, I've not forgiven him seven
times. I've forgiven him seventy times
seven. But he doesn't want forgive
ness. To him l I'M only the old man
who refused to put up longer for his
fopperies and extravagances! When he
left this house six months ago he de-
clared he would never enter it again.
Very we'll; let him stay away! He
shan't come back when l am in my
grave to play ducks and brakes with
the money he misuses! And I've fixed
it so that you won't be able to give it
away either, Jessica."
The girl. still kneeling, turned half
about with d hopeless gesture. "Oh,
Won't you help me?" she said. She
spoke more to herself, it seemed. than
to either Of the men who waited.
"Sanderson," said the old man with
bitter fierceness, lifting his hand, IL
dare say you think l am hard, but l
tell you there has never been a day
since Hugh was born when | wouldn't
have laid down my life for him! You
are so like! When l look at you l seem
to see him as he might have been but
for his own hayward choice! If he
were only as like you in other things
as he is in feature! You are nearly the
same age. You went to the same col
lege, l believe. You have had the same
advantages and the same temptations.
Yet you, an orphan. come out a divini.
ty student, and Hugh-my SOMEONE'S
out a rofsterer with gambling debts, a
member of the fast set n of a disso-
lutte fraternity known as The Saints
whose very existence, no doubt, was a
shame to the institution"
Harry Sanderson turned slowly to
the light, A strange panorama in that
moment had flashed through his brain
Kaleidoscope pictures Of an early
reckless era when he had not been
known as the "Rev. Henry Sanderson."
81 think I ought to say that l was
the founder, and at the time you speak
of, the abbot Of The Saints. l was In the
same year with Hugh. We sowed u
Wild oats together, a tidy crop, 1 fancy,
for us both. That page Of my life is
pasted down. speak Of 1t now be-
cause it would be cowardty not to. I
have not seen Hugh since college
closed four years ago. But then I wat
all you called him-a wnster and q
prodigal. And l was more. for while
others followed, l led. At college I
was known as Satan Sanderson.'"
ut is the Hugh Of the present that
l am dealing WITH" said the old man.
For David Stires was Just and he was
feeling a grim respect for Harry's
honesty.
Harry acknowledged the brusque
49, IA