Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1911-08-03

terpret the smile she gave him in re-
turn.
"The card is hardly necessary" she
said, and then, to his complete Devil
derment, "You are very like your ia
eher, Mr.. Blount."
You know my father" he exclaimed.
b laughed softly. Every one
knows the senator. And l can assure
you that his son is very welcome I'M
der this roof. Uncle Ba%rnabas'-to the
ancient serving man., who was still
lowering in the background-"have MI.
Blounts horse put up and the blue
room made ready"
Blount followed the hostess. who was
still unnamed to him, obediently when
she led the way to the lighted library
in the wing of the great house.
Uncle Barnabas will come for you
presently" h explained. "In the
meantime let me make YOU a cup Of
tea. am sure YOU nus be needing
1t II you have ridden far. Take the
easy chair, and we can talk while the
Kettle is boiling. Are you new to the
west, MIR. Blount? Or is this only a
return to your own? The senator is
always talking about YOU. but he is
so proud of YOU that he forgcts to tell
US the really interesting things that
we want to know
The serving man took his own time
about coming back for the guest, so
long a time that Blount forgot that it
was past midnight, that he was a
guest in q strange house and that HI
did not vet know the name of his en-
tertainer.
For all this forgetfulness the little
lady with the dark brown eyes was
directly responsible. Almost before he
knew it Blount found himself chatting
companionably with her and finding
her charminSly responsive in what
ever field the talk happened to fall.
The white haired old butler came at
last to show him the way to his luxu-
rious lodgings on the second floor Of
the mansion.
With a touch of hospitality which
carried Blount back to his one winter
in the south, the hostess went with
him as far as the stair foot, and her
Good night was still ringing musi-
cally in his ears when the old negro
lighted the acetylenc in the guest
room. put another stick of wood on
the small fire that was cracking and
swapping checrfully on the hearth and
bobbed and bowed his way to the
door.
Blount saw his last chance for bet
ter information vanishing for the
,;,1,+ ,-l go .I ..I H..
traditions.
Uncle Barnabas, suppose you tell
me where I am before YOU GO he
suggested. Whose house is this?'
The old man stopped on the thresh-
old, chuckling gleefully. "A-ain't you
know dat. sab: A-ain't Mis- Honoria
done tell you dat? You's at Wa'trace
Hall, Mahsteh Majah's country house.
Yes. sab. OATS whah you is-kee, heev'
"And who is Master Maior"" press
ed Blount. whose bewilderment grew
with every fresh attempt to dispel it.
"A-ain't she tell you dat? Kee, hee!
Ev'body knows Mahsteh Majah; yes,
sab. Eff Mis- Honoria amt tell you
ole BarnabaS amt gwine to. No, sab.
Ah'H bring yo' all's coffee in de mawn-
in; yes, sab. Good night, sab. Kee,
hee" Aud the door closed silently
upon the wrinkled old face and the
bobbing head.
Having nothing else to do, Blount
went to bed. but sleep came reluc-
family.
Whittier had a curiously tricky fate
led him? Where was Wartrace Hall,
and who was Mahsteh Majah? Who
was the winsome little lady who look
ed as if she might be twenty and who
had all the wit and wisdom of the
ages at her tongues end?
These and kindred Speculations kept
him awake for a long hOur after the
door had closed behind the Ancie NO
gro, and he was just droppiug Off iaro
his first loss of consciousness whe-l
the familiar purring of a motorcar
aroused him again.
There was a window at his beds
head, and he reached over and drew
the curtain.
The view gave upon the avenue of
~cottonwoods and the circular carriage
aII'loitu.
a touring car, with its powerful
headlights paling the white radiance
of the moon, was drawn up at the
steps, and he had a feeting glimpse of
a big man, swathed from head to heel
in a dust coat. descending from the
tonneau.
Il suppose that is Mahsteh Majah,"
he unused sleepily. That's why the
little lady was sitting up so late and
why she had the tea things out. She
was waiting for him" Then to the
thronging queries, threatening to re-
turn and keep him awake: Scat! Go
away! Call it a pipe dream and let
me go to sleep!"
fro BE Continued 1