The Chanute times. [volume] (Chanute, Kan.) 1897-1913, 1913-04-18
"An right. And mine m John.


Captain-Nat, mean-how can l
ever thank your"
THANK met What do you want to
thank me for? ! only handed over
somethin' that wasn't mine In the first
place and belonged to you all along
didn't know It, that was the only
trouble"
But your promise to your father.
I feel"
you needn't. I'm dom the right
thing and know It. And don't pity
me. neither. I made up my mind
not to marry Grace-unless, OF course,
she was set on it--months ago. I'm
tickled to death to know she's goin'
To have as good n man as you are.
She'll tell you 80. Grace! Hello!
she's gone"
Yes. I told her I wanted to talk
with you alone, for few minutes.
Nat, Grace tells me that Aunt Keziah
was the one who
"She was. She met me at the Co
hasset Narrows depot. was settin'
in the car, lookin' out Of the window
at the sand and snifiln' the Cape air,
somebody tapped me on the shoulder.
I looked up and twas her. was sur
prised enough to see her, tell you.
Way up there at the Narrows
couldn't have said word. anyway.
and she never gave me chance.
Nat she says. don't talk now. Come
with me, quick afore the train starts.
I've como here on purpose to meet
you. l must talk with you; it's Inn
portsnt. You can 90 to Trumet on
the next train, tonight. But now
must talk with you. must Won't
you please come. Nat?'
We'll, I went. The engine bell was
beginnin' to ring and we had to move
lively, tell you. swung her of the
step Just as the car begun to move.
So into the waitin' room we went and
come to anchor on the settee. And
then, John. we had our talk. Seems
she left Trumet Wednesday afternoon.
Got the livery stable man to drive her
as fur as Bayport. hired another team
there and come on to Sandwich. Stay
ed overnight there and took the morn
In train which got to Cohasset Mar
rows Just ahead Of the one was
comm on. Shed been so fraid OF be
in late, she said. She must see me
afore got to Trumet.
We'll, she saw me and told me the
whole yarn about you and Grace. She
tried to break II to me gently, 30 |
wouldn't feel too bad She knew 1t
would be a shock to me. she said. 1t
was a shock, In a way, but as for
feelin' bad, didn't. I think the world
of Grace. I'd do anything she wanted
me to do; but most the way down on
the train-yes, and long afore that
I'd been dreadin' my comm home on
one account | dreaded tellin' her
that, unless she was real set on 1t,
she'd better not marry me-"
NAT. want to tell you something.
Something that OILY one other per
son knows Grace doesn't know 1t
yet Neither does Aunt Keziah-the
whole of It, And II she knew / told
you even a part I'm afraid she would,
as she would say. skin me alive
But I owe her-and you-more than
| could repay II lived a thousand
years. SO I'm going to tell and take
the consequences
NAT, when-that morning after
your father died and after you and
Grace had agreed to-to-
ITO do somethin' neither Of US
wanted to doi Yes. l know. Go
ahead"
That morning Aunt Keziah came
home to the parsonage and broke the
news to me- She did 1t as only she
could do such a thing, kindly and pity
ingly and made fool Of myself, I
expect; refused to believe her, be-
haved disgracefully, and at last, when
had to believe 1t, threatened to run
away and leave my work and Trumet
forever, like a coward. She made me
stay"
Did. hey?"
Yes. She showed me 1t was my
duty to face the music. When |
whimpered about my troubles she
told me her own story. Then l