The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, 1908-01-03

Tor the vile life he had led. The
shame of his past lay at his fathers
door.
1t was with his heart full Of anger
/; and resentment that he quilted the
Hall. He never wanted to see it again.
He knew that he couldn't sell it, but
he could let it. He would feel happier
| If strangers had it. If it remained
silent, gloomy, tenantless, waiting for
the BrettingLam who had determined
never to enter 1t again, the picture of
it in its silent reproach would be con-
| tinually before him.
1t was before him as he sat, the
morning paper unfolded by his side, IN
his bachelor chambers.
''I'll see the solicitors" he said to
himself. "The place is an incubus-I
should be wretched in it alone"
Alone!
He spoke the word aloud that had
come into his mind.
That was what was the matter with
him. He was alone. If he could have
married and taken wife to the Hall
things would have been different.
He sat looking down on the ground
for minute or two, absorbed in
thought.
Then he lifted his head with little
jerk, rose, strolled to the mantelpiece,
and looked at himself in the mirror.
Why should he be alone? Some day
he might make a good marriage and
a q I odx sro 10
! of his ancestors.
May Wilson was the wife of John
Wilson, but John Wilson was dead
Mark Buckingham was alive and free
free to do as he chose---to wed d
woman his equal in birth and station.
But there was time enough to think
about marrying. He had only just
come into his fortune. He had seen
nothing of life as it is for the rich and
well-born.
He would plunge into the gaiety of
London, he would take all the joys
that money would buy. He had had a
hard time long enough. He would
have a good one now, and make up
for lost time.
There were plenty of things for him
to occupy his mind with and help him
to shut out unpleasant visions.
He would take place in town on
which he could spend money lavishly.
He would have horses and carriages
!. and follow his old love----the turf.
Country bred, he had been familiar
with sport from his boyhood. Sport
should see him as patron. He would
see the gay side of life, too. He
would be man of the town. He
would get into society. His name
would carry him---his fortune would
make him welcome.
The old life was dead and the new
one was about to begin. Sir Mark
rockingham should be a man talked
about-run after-feted.
The escaped convict for whom
Scotland Yard had abandoned the
| search flung himself down in chair
and laughed.
What a fool he had been to let the
loneliness of the old Kentish man.
sion depress him when in London
and all it's glitter and gaiety, it's pulls
ing life, its ceaseless excitements, lay
before him.
He settled himself down in his chair,
lighted a cigarette, and opened his
morning papers.
He turned to the racing news and
found that there was no meeting near
London. But he read the list Of fix
lures that was given for the week,
and he noticed that there was meet
ing at Sandown Park at the end of the
week.
He would go there.
Then he hesitated. He was not
member, and he would have to go into
the ordinary enclosure. There were
always detectives at race meetings.
Suspicious detectives at race meetings
are often we'll dressed. His features
might attract the attention of one of
the detectives.
He uttered an exclamation of annoy
ance. Right at the commencement of
his program of pleasure, the fact that
he had once been John Wilson came
to dash his spirits.
No, he wouldn't go racing yet. He
would wait till he could get into a rae
ing club. In the members enclosure
he would be known as Sir Mark Bret
tingham, and there would be no fear
then of the suspicious being aroused
of Scotland Yard man who might be
present.
He looked the paper over and saw
the columns of theatrical amusement
advertisements.
That was it. He would go round