The Lexington intelligencer. [volume] (Lexington, Mo.) 1901-1949, 1913-07-04

4 am looking for a letter, an old let
ter n Of these boys left here" ex.
planned MurieL.
"Ah, indeed" muttered the tramp.
VALUABLE, ma'sm"
II will pay for its return"
"Mebbe I'll find IT," said the man.
and Muriel left the place hoping the
wind had blown 1t away among the
rubbish at the rear Of the lot.
ooh, Aunt Muriel," said Villa. as
they reached home, 81 just remem.
bered! The mar | gave the letter to
looked q good deal like that photo
graph | noticed in your desk"
Muriel flushed, with a new pang at
her heart at the allusion. She tried
to hope that n letter was lost and
that the other would be tossed aside
unread. She sat on the porch that
evening, trying to forget the distress
ing incident and Ranald Dyer, when
some one came up the steps. It was
the tramp she had met that day.
About that letter now" he began
with a leer. what will you give for
it?"
Have you found it," inquired Mu-
riel eagerly. 81 will gladly pay you
ten dollars"
why, ma'am,'' derided the tramp.
in these days of sensations any news
vaper would give one hundred dol
'}rs, just to show its readers how a
real genuine love letter reads, don't
j on see?"
The covert insinuation appalled, Mu-
rel. Not that the letters contained
nything but the most respectful and
ommonplace sentiments of love. She
hrank from the thought Of others per-
sing these treasured epistles, sacred
o her as the heart breathings of a
man she had loved %deyotedly.
Its a hundred or nothing" added
he tramp menacingly.
mot a cent" interrupted a ringing
voice that thrilled Muriel through and
through.
And then the tramp was seized by
The collar by a vigorous hand, was
pulled over the porch railing, arrest
threatened, the letter demanded and
produced, and the blackmailer sent
headlong into the road.
His ready captor returned to the pet
ritied Muriel. He lifted his hat cour-
teously, but very gravely.
There is the letter that man had,
here is n a little boy handed me to-
day, passing out letters he called it"
"Ranald-Ranald Dyer" murmured
Muriel weakly.
Yes, it is l." replied her lover Of
the past. Il came to visit the old town
after my long absence. You seem to
have thought enough Of those old let
tiers of mine to preserve them"
Her head sank low, she could not
utter a word. 1t was a strained stu
alton.
IF so, why then" proceeded Ranald,
did you not make some reply when /
sent word by my friend, Edward Ross,
seven years ago?"
Il never received it," spoke Mu-
riel quickly. And then: HE was not
your friend-I see it all now!"
She recalled how suddenly Ranald
had left the town with no word of ex-
PLANTATION. She remembered, too, how
Edward Ross had proposed to her, and
had been rejected a month later.
He was dead now, and she did not
wish to prove his ~falseness. 1t came
out reluctantly-the story.
"Muriel," said Ranald, leaning closer
to that pleading, longing, beautiful
face, "a true man tells his love once,
and never regrets it. Is it, then.
somebody else's fault that we parted?
Can it be possible that all these years
you have thought of me as of old?"
Would l have treasured these let
ers otherwise" asked Muriel softly
md the next moment she was clasped
in his arms.
Copyright, 1918, by W. G. Chapman.J