The Tupelo journal., 1909-06-18

although only a few days had Elapsed,
he was much stronger; he was able
to breathe comfortably, he spoke with
ease, in his ordinary voice; in fine, he
looked his old self again, merely thin
ner and paler. Hardly was the colonel
seated before he said without preface
-Keatcham never made approaches to
his subject, regarding conversational
road-making as waste of brains for a
busy man:
Colonel, Miss Smith hasn't time to
be my nurse and secretary both. l
won't have one sen from New York;
will you help her out?"
The c~olonels lips twitched; he was
thinking that were Miss Smith work
ing for Atkins, she couldn't have a
better chance to make a killing. But
I'll bet my life she isn't" he added;
she may be trying to save his life,
but she isn't playing his camel"
He said aloud: Il will, Mr.. Keatch-
am, if you will let me do it as part of
the obligation of the situation; and
there is no bally rot about compensa-
ton"
Very WELL" said Keatcham. He
did not hesitate; it was (as the colonel
had already discovered) the rarest
thing in the world for him to hesitate;
he thought with astonishing rapidity;
and he formulated his answer while
his i~nterlocutor talked; before the
speech was owe the answer was
ready. Another trait of his had struck
the soldier, namely, the laborious cor
rectness of his speech; it was often
formal and old-fashioned; Aunt Re-
becca said that he talked like Daniel
Webster's speeches; but it had none
of the homely and pungent SAVIOR one
might expect from a mar whose boy
hood had scrambled through miners
camps into a San Francisco stock Of
flee; who had never gone to school in
his life by daylight; who had been
mine superintendent, small Spectator
n small director in California until
he became a big Spectator and big
railway controller in New York.
you might begin on the morning
MAIL" Keatcham continued. Let me
sort them first" He merely glanced
at the inscriptions on the envelopes,
opening and taking out one which he
read rather carelessly, %frowning a lit
tie before he placed it to one side.
A number of the letters concerned
the endowments of the experimental
chairs at the universities. Keatcham's
attention was not lightened by any ray
of pleasure. Once he said: THAT
fellow has caught my idea," and once:
That's right" but there was no ami
nation in his voice, no interest in his
pallid face. Stealing a %furtive scru-
tiny of it, now and then, Rupert Win
ter was impressed with it's mystical
likeness to that of Cary Mercer.
There was no physical similarity of
color or feature; it was a likeness of
the spirit rather than the flesh. The
colonel's eyes flashed.
Il have it," he exclaimed within,
II have it; they are fanatics, both of
them; Keatcham's a fanatic of finance
and Mercer is a fanatic of another
sort; but fanatics they both are, ready
to go any length for their principles or
their ambitions or their revenge!
J'ai trouve lie mot d'enigme, as Aunt
Becky would say-I wonder what she'll
say to this sudden psychological
splurge of mine"
"The business hour is up"-it was
Miss Smith entering with a bowl on a
~white-covered tray; the sun glinted
the lump of ice in the milk and the
silver spoon was dazzling against the
linen-"your biscuit and milk, Mr..
Keatcham. Didn't you have it when
you were a boy?"
81 did, Miss Janet"-and Keatcham
actually smiled. Il used to think
crackers and milk the incest thing in
the world"
THAT is because you never tasted
corn pone and milk; but you are go
ing to-"
when you make it for me. I'm glad
you're such a good cook. It's one of
your ways / like My mother was a
very good cook. She could make bet
ter dishes out of almost nothing than
these mongrel chefs can make with
the whole world"
81 reckon she could" said Miss
Smith; she was speaking sincerely.
when my father didn't strike pay
dirt, my mother would open her bak-
cry and make pies for the miners;
she could make bread with potato
yeast or 'salt-emptins-can you make
salt-rising bread?"
Il can-shall I make you some to-
morrow"
I'D like it. My mother used to make
more money than my father; some
times when we children were low in
clothes and dad owed a bigger lot of
money than usual, we had a laundry
at our house as well as a bakery.
Yet, in spite of all the work, my
mother found time to teach all of us;
and she knew how to teach. too; for
she was principal of a school when
my father married her. She was a
New Highlander; so was he; but they
went west. We're forty-niners. / saw
the place where our little cloth-and-
board shack used to stand. After the
big fire, you know. 1t burned us all
up: we had saved a good deal and
my mother had a nice bakery. She
worked too hard; it killed her. Work
and struggle and losing the children"
They died?' said Miss Janet.
"Diphtheria. They didn't know any
thing about the disease then. We all
had it; and my little sister and both
my brothers died; but I'm tough. !