Meade County news. [volume] (Meade, Kan.) 1900-1918, 1912-07-18

gaunt and haggard, his face distigured
by a great red scar; the other was a
shock-headed individual who moved
with shambling gait. Both carried
rifles and both were dressed in coarse
homespun.
Morning, SIR" said the man with
the scar. "Yancy's my name. and
this gentleman lows he'd rather be
known now as Mr. Cavendish."
The judge started to his feet.
Bob Yancy?" he cried.
Yes, sir, that's me-" The Judge
passed nimbly around the desk and
shook the Scratch Hitler warmly by
the hand. Where's my nevvy, sir?-
what's all this about him and Miss
Betty?" Yancys soft drawl was sud
denly eager
Please God we'll recover him
soon" said the Judge.
By the window Darlington moved
impatiently No harm could come to
the boy, but Betty-a shudder went
| through him.
They've stolen him" Yancy spoke
with conviction. II reckon they've
started back to Moth Carolina with
him-only that don't explain what's
come of Miss Betty, does it," and he
dropped rather helplessly into chair.
Bob are just getting off sick bed.
He's been powerful porely in conse-
| quence Of having his head laid open
and then being throwed into the Elk
river, where | fished him out" ex-
planned Cavendish, who still contin-
ued to regard the Judge with unmixed
establishment, first cooking his shaggy
head on one side and then on the
other, his bleached eyes narrowed to a
! slit. Now and then he favored the
austere Mahaffy with tieeting
glance. He seemed intvitively to un-
derstand the comradeship OF their
degradation.
Mr.. Cavendish fetched me here on
his raft. We tied up to the sho' this
morning 1t was there we met Mr..
Carrington-Id knowed him slightly
back yonder in Moth Carolina" con-
tinued Yancy. He said I'd find Han
nibal with you. was counting heap
on seeing my nevvy."
Darlington, no longer able to con-
troll himself, swung about on his heel.
whats been done?" he asked, with
fierce repression. Whats going to be
done? Don't you know that every
second is precious?"
Il am about to conclude my inves-
LEGATIONS, sir" said the judge with
| dignity.
Darlington stepped to the door.
After all, what was there to expect OF
these men? Whatever their interest,
it was plainly centered in the boy. He
passed out into the hall.
AS the door closed on him the Judge
turned again to the Scratch Hitler.
Mr.. Yancy, Mr. Mahaffy and | hold
your nephew in the tenderest regard;
he has been our constant companion
ever since you were lost to him. In
this crisis you may rely upon US; we
are committed to his recovery, no
matter what 1t involves" The judges
tone was one of unalterable resolu-
tion.
81 reckon you-all have been mighty
good and kind to him." said Yancy
| huskily.
I'VE have endeavored to be, Mr..
| Yancy-indeed | had formed the reso-
| luton legally to adopt him should you
not come to claim him. / should have
/ nd ohn him
my heir. His education has already
begun under my supervision" and the
Judge, remembering the high use to
which he had dedicated one OF reg
loe's trade labels, fairly glowed With
philanthropic fervor.
Think Of that" murmured Yancy
softly. He was deeply moved. SO was
Mr.. Cavendish who was gifted with
wealth of -eady sympathy He
thrust out a hardened hand to the
| Judge.
"Shake!" he said. You're a heap
better than you look" A thin ripple
of laughter escaped Mahafry, but the
Judge accepted Chills and Fever's
proffered hand. He understood that
here was simple genuine soul.
Price, isn't it important for us to
know why Mr.. Yancy thinks the boy
has been taken back to North Caro-
lina?" said Mahaffy
Just what kin is Hannibal to you,
Mr.. Yancy?" asked the Judge reEum-
ing his seat.
strictly speaking, he amt none.
That he come to live with me is all
owing to Mr.. Crenshaw, who's a good
man when left to himself, but he's
got wife, so body may say he never
is left to himself" began Yancy; and
then briefly he told the story OF the
woman and the child much as he had
told 1t to Bladen at the Barony the
day of General Quintard's funeral.
The judge, his back to the light and
his face in shadow, rested his left ell
bow on the desk and with his chin
sunk in his palm, followed the Scratch
Killers narrative with the closest at
tention.
! CTo BE CONTINUED