The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1914-04-16
CHAPTER IX.-Continued.

He trudged away into the shadows,
but presently as the new master of
Damory Court stood in the gloomy
hall, he heard the shambling step
again behind him. "Ah done neglect
uated ter ak yo' name sub All did,
10 err fac"
MY name is Valiant John Val
liant
Uncle Jefferson's eyes turned up
ward and rolled out of orbit. Nah
LawdY he calculated soundlessly.
And with his wide lips still framed
about the last word, he backed out
of the doorway and disappeared.
Alone in the ebbing twilight, John
Valiant found his hamper, spread a
napkin on the broad stone steps and
took out glass, spoon and part of
"a loaf of bread. The thermos flask
was filed with milk. 1t was not
splendid banquet, yet he ate It with
q great content as the bulldog at his
feet gnawed his share of the crust.
He broke his bread into the milk as
he had not done since he was a child,
and ate the luscious pulp with keen
relish bred of the long outdoor day.
II was almost dark when the meal
was done and, depleted hamper in
hand, he reentered the empty echoing
house He went into the library,
lighted the great brass lamp from the
motor and began to rummage. The
drawers of the dining-room sideboard
yielded nothing; on a shelf of the but
1er's pantry, however, was a tin box
which proved to be half full Of wax
candles, perfectly preserved.
The very thing" he said triumph
antly. Carrying them back, he fixed
several In the glass-candlesticks and
set them, lighted, all about the somber
room till the soft glow flooded its
every corner. There" he said,
that Is as 1t should be. No big bla-
tant search-light here! And no glare
of modern electricity would suit that
old wainscoting, either"
He dragged the leather settee to the
porch and by the light of the motor
lamp busted it thoroughly, and wheel
ing it back, set it under the portrait
which had so attracted him. He
washed the glass from which he had
dined and filled it at the cup of the
garden fountain, put into it the rose
from his hat and set it on the read
tng-stand. The small china dog
caught his eye and he picked it up
casually. The head came off in his
hands. 1t had been bon-bon box and
was empty save for narrow strip of
yellowed paper, on which were writ
ten some meaningless figures: 1928
$40. He pondered this moment,
then thrust it into one of the empty
SigeonhOles of the desk. On the lat
Ger stood an old-fashioned leaf-calen-
Oar; the date it exposed was May
14th Curiously enough the same date
would recur tomorrow. The page bore
a quotation: Every man carries his
fate on a riband about his neck"
She line had been quoted in his
fathers letter May 14th-how much
that date and that motto may have
meant for him!
He rose to push the shutter wider
and In the movement his elbow sent a
shallow case of morocco leather that
had lain on the desk crashing to the
floor. 1t opened and heavy metallic
object rolled almost to his feet He
saw at glance that it was an old
fashioned rusted dueling pistol.
The box had originally held two
pistols. He shuddered as he stopped
to pick up the weapon, and with the
crawling repugnance mingled pang-
ing anger and humiliation. From his
very babyhood it had always been so
that unconquerable aversion to the
touch Of firearms. There had been mo
ments in his youth when this unrea-
soning shrinking had filed him with a
blind fury, had driven him to strange
self-tests of courage. He had never
been able to overcome It. Analyza-
ton had told him that his peculiar
adherence was no mere outgrowth of
this. 1t lay far deeper. He had rare
ly, of recent years, met the test. Now,
as he stood in these unaccustomed
surroundings, with the cold touch of