Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1914-02-03

hand indifferently up at the night.
IF it was clear" he said, "you
could see Baldpate mountain over
yonder looking down on the falls,
sort of keeping an eye on us to make
sure we don't get reckless. And half
way up you'd see Baldpate inn, black
and peaceful and wintery. Just fol-
low this street to the third corner and
turn to your left Elijah lives in lit
tie house back among the trees a
mile out. There's a gate you'll sure
hear creaking on a night like this"
Billy Magee thanked him and,
gathering up his two bags, walked up
Main street. A dreary, forbidding
building at the first corner bore the
sign, Commercial House"
Weep no more, my lady,
Oh, weep no more today!
hummed Mr.. Magee cynically under
his breath and glanced up at the soli-
tary upstairs window that cleaned
yellow in the night
At a corner on which stood little
shop that advertised Groceries and
Provisions" he paused.
Let me see," he pondered. 1.-THE
lights will be turned off. Of course.
Candles and little something for the
inner man in case it's the closed sea-
son for cooks"
He went inside, where a weary old
woman served him.
What sort of candles?" she in
Quired, with the air Of one who had
an infinite variety in stock. Mr.. Ma
gee remembered that Christmas was
near.
For Christmas tree" he explain
ed. He asked for two hundred.
I've only got forty" the woman
said. Whats this tree for-the Or
phans' homer
With the added burden of a pack
age containing his purchases in the
tiny store Mr.. Magee emerged and
continued his journey through the
stinging snow.
Don Quixtote, my boy" he mutter-
ed. Il know how you felt when you
moved on the windmills."
1t was not the whir of windmills,
but the creak of gate in the storm
that brought Mr.. Magee at last to a
stop. He walked gladly up the path
to Elijah Quimbys door.
In answer to Billy Magee's gay
knock, man of about sixty years ap-
peared. Evidently he had just finished
supper At the moment he was en-
gagged in lighting his pipe. He admit
ted Mr.. Magee into the intimacy of
the kitchen, and took a number of
calm judicious puffs on the pipe be-
fore speaking to the visitor.
MY names Magee," blithely ex-
planned that gentleman, dragging in
his bags. And you're Elijah Quimby,
Of course How are you? Glad to see
you"
The older man did not reply, but re-
garded Mr.. Magee wonderingly through
white puffs Of smoke. His face was
kindly, gentle, Intellectual.
YES" he admitted at last. "Yes, I'm
Quimby."
Mr.. Magee threw back his coat, and
sprayed with snow Mrs. Quimby's i'm
maculate floor.
I'm Magee," he elucidated again.
William Hallowell Magee. the man
Hal Bentley wrote to you about. You
got his letter, didn't you?"
Mr.. Quimby removed his pipe and
forgot to close the aperture as he
stared in amaZement
Good Lord" he cried; you don't
mean-you've really come? Why, we
we thought it was all joke!'
Hal Bentley has his humorous mo-
ments," agreed Mr.. Magee, but it isn't
his habit to fling jests into Upper AS
quewan Falls"
"And-and you're really going to-
Mr.. Quimby could get no further.
YES" said Mr.. Magee brightly. slip
ping into a rocking chair. Yes; I'm
going to spend the next few months at
Baldpate inn"
Its closed" expostulated Mr..
Quimby. THE inn is closed, young
fellow"
II know it's closed" smiled Magee.
That's the very reason I'm going to
honor it with my presence. I'm sorry
to take you out on a night like this,
but I'll have to ask you to lead me up
to Baldpate believe those were Hal
Bentley's instructions-in the letter."
Mr.. Quimby lowered above Mr.. Ma
gee, a shirt sleeved statute Of honest
American manhood. He scowled.
Excuse a plain question, young
man." he said, but what are you hid
ing from?"
I'm not hiding" said Magee. did
not Bentley explain? Well, I'll try to,
though I'm not sure you'll understand
Sit down, Mr.. Quimby. You are not,
take it, the sort Of man to follow close
ly the frivolous literature of the day.
whats that?" inquired Mr. Quinn
by.
You don't read" continued Mr.. Ma
gee, "the sort Of novels that are sold
by the pound in the department stores
Now, if you had a daughter-a fluffy
daughter inseparable from hammock
in the summer-she could help me ex-
plain. You see-I write those novels
Wild thrilling tales for the tired busi-
ness mans tired wife-shots in the
night, chases after fortunes, Cupid
busy with his arrows all over the
place! It's good fun, and I like to dc
it. There's money in it."
rs there?" asked Mr.. Quimby, with
show Of interest.
| considerable" replied Mr.. Magee