Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1909-12-16

huct'Iant tide of melody that was car
rying him back. back. into the far.
lway past toward all that lie had loved
and lost.
"It's Home. Sweet Home" said
Barney McGnn. mo. it's annie
Laurie. No. its-hangcd If know
what 1t isl"
The player himself could not have
told him. He was in kind of trauccd
dream. The self made music was call.
Ing with a sweet insistence to buried
things that were stirring from q long
sleep. 1t sent a gulp into the throat
or more than one standing moveless
IN the street. 1t brought suspicious
moisture to Tom Felder's eyes. 1t drew
Mrs. Halloran from the kitchen, wip-
ang her hands on her apron. 1t called
to girl who crouchcd in the upper
hall with her miserable face buried in
her hands. drew her down the stair
to the office door, her eyes wide with
breathless wonder, her face glistenins
with feeling.
From the balcony Jessica had Wit
messed the fight without understand
Ing its meaning. A fascination she
could not galnsay had glued her eyes
to the struggle. 1t was he-it was the
face she knew. seen hut once for Il
single moment in the hour Of her mar
riage, but stamped indelibly upon her
memory. 1t was no longer smooth
shaver. and It was changed, evilly
changed. But it was the same. There
was recklesness and mockery ia It and
yet strength. not weakness. Stunned
md despised as he might bc-the chief
actor, as ii seemed to her. in a cheap
and desperate barroom affray, a coarse
nfrair Of fisticrfs in the public street.
yet there was something intrepid IN
his bearing, something splendid in his
victory.
TO Jessica, standing with hands close
riasped, the music seemed the agony
pf remorse for past fall, the cry of
forlorn soul, knowing itself cast ont.
appealing to its good angel for pity
mud pardon. Hugh had often played
TO her, lightly. carelcssly, as he did all
things. She had deemed it only one of
his many clever, amateurish accom-
plishments. Now it struck her with
pang that there had been in him
deeper side that She had not guessed
Since her wedding day she had
thought of her marriage as a loathed
bond, from which his false prctense
had absolved her. Now doubt of her
own position assaled her. Had lone
liness and outlnwry driven him into
the career that had made him Stunned
even in this rough town. a course
which she, had she been faithful to
Ter vow for better. for worse might
nave turned to his redemption? God
forgave, but she had not forgiven.
Smartiug tears scorched her eyelds.
For Harry Sanderson the music was
the imprisoned memory, crying out
strongly in the first tongue it had
found. The slumbering qualities that
had stirred uncasily at sight of the
face on the balcony awoke. Who he
was and had been he knew no more
than before. but the new writhing self
consciousness, starting from its sleep
with almost a sense of shock. became
conscious of the gaping crowd. the
dusty street, the red sunset and of
himself at the end of a vulgar brawl
saving a violin in silly braggadoclo in
a hotel doorway.
The music faltered and broke off
The bow dropped at his feet He
picked it up fumblingly and turned
back into the Office as a man entered
from a rear door. The newcomer was
Michael Halloran. the hotels proprie
tor, short, thckset and surly. Asleep
in his ROOM he had neither seen the
fracas nor heard the playing. He saw
instantly, however, that something I'M
usual was forward and. blinking on
the threshold. caught sight Of the man
who was handing the violin back to its
owner. He clinched his fist with a
scowl, and started toward him.
His wife caught his arm.
"Oh, Michael, Michael" she cried
"Say nothing, lad, Ye should have
heard him pav"'
play" he exclaimed. LET him go
fiddle to his side partner Prendergast.
and the other rifTraff he's run with the
year past" He turned blackly to Har-
~. 'Take EcUrsalf from this house,
Hugh Stires" he said. whether all's
true that's said of you don't say, but
you'll not come here"'
Harry had turned very white. With
the spoken nGme-a name how familiar!
his eyes had fallen TO the ring on his
finger-the ring with the initials II. S.
quddpn cOmprph on sion bo Il ortod tO
his mind. score of circumstances
that had seemed odd stood out now in
n baleful light The looks oe dislike in
the barroom, the attitude of the street
this angry diatribe. all smacked of &C
quaintance, and not alone acquant-
lnce, but obloquy. His name was
Hugh Stires, He belonged to this very
town! And he was man hated, de-
spised, forbidden entrance to mn TN
couth hostelry. an unwelcome visitant
even In barrOom. He turned to Eel
der and said in low voice to him.
not to the hotel keeper or to the room
full:
when | entered this town today !
did not know my name or that ! had
ever set foot in it before, was struck
Ivy a train a month ago and remember
nothing beyond that time 1t sccme
that the town knows me better than |
know myself"
He turned quietly and walked out OF
the door Pavement and street We're a
hubbub of excited talk. The groups
parted as he came out, and he passed
Rel, i,.l.k