The citizen-Republican. (Scotland, Bon Homme County, S.D.) 1???-19??, 1911-05-18
HALF "A ROGUE
BY HAROLD MAC GRATH
Author Of The Man on the Box, The Puppet Grown, Hearts and MASKS. Etr
Copyright Bobbs-MerrMI Co. Indianapolis
BY HAROLD MAC A

Warrington. He walked in h golden
| glow of his first that romance
which never leaves us till life itself de-.
parts.
proFingly.N They knew the worth OF the
man.; they were not at all worried over
what was past.
One evening Kate and John sat on
the veranda from where they could
easily watch Warrington and Patty in
the music room.
What do you think Of ii, John?"
There's not a finer chap In the
world. But I don't think Patty realizes
lyet."
Dear Patty!s Kate reached over and
took his hand In hers, laying 1t against
her cold cheek. What is it. John?
You have been worried all day"
Nothing; nothing to bother you
with"
The shops? It worries me when you
don't confide In me in everything"
Well. dear, the trouble I've been ex-
pecting for months Is about to come.
You know young Ci1ittenden, h Eng
with a machine that will do the work
Of five men. They have been trying to
force him to join the union. but he has
refused. having had too many examples
of unionism in his own country to risk
his independenee-Wel1. I received a
1 lSlGtE lEOLl Jle StliSTdl IlalldBGT Ills
morning. Either Chittenden must join
or go; otherwise the men will go out
September lst."
What shall you do?"
81 shall keep Chittenden. I am
master there striking the arm of his
chair: master in everything. II they
go out in September, 1t will be for
and build model tenements."
joint
II am sick n tired, dear. I have
raised the wages all over the district;
my men work less than any other
hands in town. I have built a GYM
nasium for them, given them books,
pool tables and games. to say moth
arranged the annual outings. T have
established a pension list. But all this
seems to have done no good. I am
at the end Of the o Oh, the poor
devils who work are all right; it's the
men outside who are raising all this
trouble; It's the union, not the men.
There's no denying the power these
men can WELD, for wrong or right.
Ignorance cannot resist the temptation
to use it at all times and for ali pur-
poses. But I am master at the Ben
nington shops; injustice shall not die
tate to me. They'll use 1t politically,
too. After all, I'm glad I've told you.''
- AooAiiit \ - ~ yOus& lIlGy
may hurt you"
John answered with a sound that
was more of a growl han a laugh.
She kissed his hand. She knew that
no pleading could move him; and be-
sides. he was in the right.
II don't understand the lukewarm-
ness Of the party papers," he said.
They ought to hurrah over Dick. But
perhaps the secret machinery Is being
L r4+ IN Evry@~ a - IL "a.
there will be trouble at The ony
ton. The senator never backs down,
and I've never seen anybody that could
brighten Dick. ThereIl be some inter-
estinE events this fall. Herculaneum
VIII gar IN the newspapers from
Maine to California. for everybody is
familiar with Warrington's name and
work. It's a month yet before the
delegates get together"
A quarter OF an nour later John and
Kate interrupted Patty and Warning
ton in the music room.
"A telegram for you, Dick" John
announced.
Warrington opened it carelessly and
read 1t. He read 1t again, slowly; and
Patty, who was nearest to him. saw
his face turn gray under the tan and
his lips tremble. He looked from one
to the other dumbly, then back at the
sheet in his hand.
1 ~ @ oo1a malt, Will LQaI
quick intuition which leaps across
chasms of doubt and arrives definitely,
My aunt died this afternoon he
said, his voice breaking. for he had
not the power to control 1t.
Nobody moved; a kind Of paralysis
touched them all.
"She died this afternoon, and ]
wasn't there" There is something ter.
ribly pathetic in a strong mans grief,
"Dick!". John rushed to his side,
Dick. old man. there must be some
mistake"
He seized the telegram from War
%rington's nerveless fingers. There was
no mistake. The telegram was signed
by the family physician. Then join
did the kindliest thing in his power,
do SOU wish to be alone, Dick?'
Warrington nodded. John laid the
telegram on the table, and the three
of them passed out Of the room. A
gust of wind, coming down from the
mountains, carried the telegram gently
to the DOR Warrington, leanine
against the table, stared down at it.
CHAPTER XII.
The funeral was over. Warrington
| returned to the deSolate ho,,aa Gu