Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1914-02-24
1heLyndhurst
Affair
The Story Of 4 Sons
Sacrifice
BY cLARIssA MAcKIE

lX BY cLARIssA MAcKIE I
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It was on a crisp February morning
that the dreadful news ran from LIP
to LID until the whole village Of Lynd-
hurst was aroused from its drowsy ex.
istence.
On the outskirts Of the village was
the Blatcher place. It had been the
show place of the town. The house
stood well back from the street, with
handsome naples and elms surround.
Ing Il. 1t had now long been vacant
and was falling to decay. No one ever
entered the grounds except boys, who
are proverbially fond OF deserted
places.
A murder had been committed. Boys
seeking to detach an enormous icicie
that hung from the roof Of the dilapi'
duted house had been Mortified to see
the body Of an old man sitting in an
upper room.
"And there amt nobody lived In the
house for twenty yearsl' cried Simon
Dale. the postmaster. as he led curl
GUS crowd up the street toward the
house. There amt been a soul there
since old Philo Blatcher died and his
son. young Philo, went to Asia or Afri
ca or some other outlandish place.
expect young Philo's dead long ago
but there amt nobody to take Interest
enough to find out. not being anothei
relative. II he Is dead expect the
property II revert to the state"
But what about the old man that
Billy Breen saw through the winderf
insisted Asa Fitch. How'd he come
insideT"
"Mebbe some tramp that's beer
housing there. 'Twon't be no mystery
when the constable gets around. Here
be comes now"
The constable was the postmaster'f
brother, and 80 these two BY right OF
high Office In the village took tempo
rary charge Of the case.
Constable Ben Dale smashed q win
dowpane and gained entrance to the
big house that had stood In the midst
Of large grounds, untenanted, unvisit
ed, for twenty years. The trees and
shrubs had been untrimmed and grew
rankly, almost hiding the house from
the street.
When the constable unfastened the
front door It was to admit chosen
few. How Miss Alvina Petty managed
to slip inside no one ever knew. But
there she was, the only woman among
half q dozen men, who tramped up the
carpeted stairs, stirring the dust Of
years into choking cloud.
"'Tain't no sight for woman
protested Constable Ben as he paused
with a hand on the knob Of the front
chamber door.
Awful tender with wimmen all Of
a sudden" sneered Alvina. EVERY
body knows 1t sickens you to kill
chicken. and you let your wife do 1t
but she never eats chicken because
she has to kill 'em. l guess l car
stand anything you can, Ben Dale"
Somebody Uttered, and Ben Dale
opened the door and entered the room
Billy Breen had reported truly.
In one corner Of the dusty room was
q hands ome four post bedstead whose
silken covers had been tossed back Of
II the bed had been recently slept in.
Beside the empty fireplace was Q
large chintz covered chair, and in this
chair was the dead body Of white
haired man. His head dropped to one
side as If he slept, but there was Q
rigidity about his attitude that limited
ut something else.
One hand hung over the arm Of the
chair, and the outside Of the hand
was streaked with blood. On the
floor was little wet spot
Constable Dale touched his finger tt
the spot
Blood" he whispered hoarsely
wet blood! It was done last night"
A shudder ran through the crowd
Then the postmaster nudged some
body, and they all turned and looked
at Alvina Petty. who was trembling
like a leaf and staring at the face OF
the dead man.
II said 1t want no place for win
men" calculated Ben Dale as be
Strengthened himself.
"Who Is it?" whispered AlvinH
weirdly. who do you say It Is, Beu
DALEY"
For the first time the constable look
ed closely at the man in the chair
Then the color forsook his fresh face
and he almost reeled.
Good heavens. boys-it's-it's old
Philo Blatchar himselfr'
80 'tis!" breathed the postmaster.
But we buried him twenty years
ago" protested somebody.
Then Alvina's voice. curiously re-
pressed to a whisper, caused them all
to turn and stare at the little spin
ster who once had been known as the
prettiest girl In Lyndhurst. but now.
with her white hair and her pale wrin-
killed. face. looked older than her forty
Eve years.
This Isn't old Philo Blatcher," whis-
pered Alvina, still staring at the man.
ut Is young Philo. his SON"
young Philo7 You're crazyw cried
Ben Dale. pushing forward. why.
young Philo had black hair AND
ut is young Philo grown DID," broke
In Alvina. II ought to known
Silence followed her outburst. One
man whispered to another that Alvina
had once been engaged to young Philo
Blatcher and ever since his disappear
lnce twenty years before she had act
ed queerly. Young Philo could not be
more than fifty now, and this man
looked much older.
| Alvina was speaking again.
He had come back home again aft.
er years Of wandering, and Oh the very
6rst night-see. the bed had not been
slept In for many years. but he was
going to use ton the very first night
he was killed-killed BY an enemy.
Some Chinese tracked him home and
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