Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1914-02-06

TIC TAU ouuucniy ncmCnpcTeu mat
II Mas His Twenty-fifth Birthday.
perhaps need be no question of plain
and spinstered millions-there was
Katharine Fargoi
In his heart John Valiant was aware,
by those subtle signs which men and
women alike distinguish, that while
Katharine Fargo loved first and fore
most her own wonderful person, he
had been an easy second in her re-
gard.
John Valiant looked down at the
bulldog squatted on the floor, his eyes
shining in the dimness. A little hot
ripple had run over him. mot on
your life, Chuml" he said. mo shame
less barteri There must be other
things besides money and social posi-
ton in this doddering old world, after
ALL We're going to begin something
for ourselves, If it's only raising cab
bages! And we're going to stand it
without any baby-aching-the nurse
never held our noses when we took
our castor-oill"
1t was folded down, that old bright
page. Finis had been written to the
rose-colored ;hapter. And ever as he
told himself, he was conscious Of a
new rugged something that had been
slowly dawning within him Of
courage, even of zest, and a furiouS
hatred of the self-pity that had
wronched him even for a moment.
He turned from the window, picked
up his letters, and followed by the dog,
went slowly up another fight to his
room.
He tore open the letters distracted
ly: the usual dinner-card or two, q
tailor's spring announcement, a
chronic serial from an explanatory
marble-quarrying company, a quarterly
statement of a club house-committee.
The last two missives bore a monde
script look.
One was small, with the name of
a legal firm in its corner. The other
was largish, corpulent and heavy, Of
stout Manila paper, and bore, down
one side, a gaudy procession Of post
age stamps proclaiming that it had
been registered.
whats in that, | wonder?' he said
to himself, and then, with a smile at
the unmasculine speculation, opened
the smaller envelope.
Dear Sir" began the letter, in the
most uncompromisingly conventional
of typewriting:
Dear Sir:
Enclosed please find, with title
deed, a memorandum opened in your
name by the late John Valiant some
years before his death. 1t was his
desire that the services indicated in
connection with this estate should con.
tinue till this date. We hand you
herewith our check for $236.20 1.-TWO
twenty c~ents), the balance In your "a
vor, for which please send receipt,
And oblige,
Yours very truly,
Emerson and Ball"
"(Enclosure)
He turned to the memorandum. 1t
showed a STABLE initial deposit against
which was entered a series of annual
tax payments with minor disburse
mcuIb CT6ullSQ " 1AbPCCttOA anu
care" The tax receipts were pinned
to the account.
The larger wrapper contained an I'M
sealed envelope. across which was
written in faded ink and in an unfa-
miliar dashing. slanting handwriting.
his own name. The envelope con
tanned a creased yellow parchment,
from between whose folds there
dumped and futtered down upon the
floor a long iattish object wrapped
in a paper, a newspaper clipping and
a letter.
Puzzled he unfolded the cracking
thing in his hands. why" he said
half aloud, "it's-it's a deed made over
to me-" He overran It swiftly. part
Of an old Colony grant
plantation in Virginia, twelve hum
dred odd acres, given under the hand
of a yice-regal governor In the six
teenth century. / had no idea titles
in the United States went back so Tar
as thati" His eye fed to the end
fTo IA Nouffnuad