The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1914-08-28

Il
service walk that was his custom.
Up the rise. village-bound. leisurely
creaked an ancient top buggy. In II
slouched a middle-aged man upon
whose face were written humor and
patience, qualities of which he had
great need just then. His horse la
bored heavily at it's task, head hang
ing low; not the bellows in Simon
Truths smithy pulled louder or hard
| er. At the crest it stopped without
urging. Mark frowned impatiently
Then he noted the sad state Of the
horse and a grin displaced the frown
Hear you're going away" Doc
Hedges remarked. For the good OF
the towns"
Mark nodded, the grin widening
Maybe you'd like to help pay my
fare?" m
Il have helped" the doctor rejoined
dryly. Going to get rich. amt you?
They all think that"
ut happens sometimes"
"You might, though. Any man ought
to get rich that could sell me this
would you call 1t a hone?"
'Hmm!" Mark considered the ami.
NAL judicially. well, it has four
| legs"
Sos a billy goat" drawled the doc
tor. "Goat'd be more use to me, too. y
What did you buy it for, then?"
Il amt squealing. Pretty slick Gus.
toner, amt you?"
The grin returned. II can sell
horses" Mark modestly admitted, ito
some people"
"Humph! Only fool'd buy 'em OF
you." the doctor agreed. "What'll you
take for the brown mare"
1.-THE brown mare isn't for SALE"
"Any horse is for sale," the doctor
insisted. "at the right price. Give you
hundred and fifty"
81 wouldn't sell her for two-fifty."
The doctor sighed and CLICKED to
the weary horse.
Out of the dusty cloud trailing be-
hind the creaky buggy emerged a tall
STOPPING figure, clad in the rusty black
of the country clergyman. He walked
slowly. and when he came to the rise,
with a slight effort; evidently he was
frail man physically. At the crest
he stopped, breathing hard.
Taking a good-by look at it," he
asked between breaths.
"No. Just waiting for you"
The preacher smiled family; the
worn dispirited face lighted up lit
tie. He turned his glance to the val.
ley.
"It's worth a farewell. You'll be
homesick for 1t sometimes hope.
Shall we walk a bit farther?"
At his tagging pace they tramped
along the road, constantly rising and
descending but always reaching up to-
ward higher level. They kept the
frank silence Of those who have been
companions often.
Ten years before Richard Courtney
had resigned the city congregation
that was steadily whitening under his
ministry and had come to shepherd the
little flock of Bethel. 1t proved to be a
life sentence, but in the end he stayed,
if not gladly, at least with such Chris.
tian fortitude as a quivering sensitive
soul could summon; having found-so
| he put it-a need to which he could
minister. In the early days of his new
service he had discovered a neglected,
unlettered, moody youngster suffer.
ing under the blight of his relation to
Simon Truitt, who, for his supposed
| atheism, was accounted a little less
than respectable. Some quality in the
| boy caught the preachers fancy. Tact.
fully he sought to win into Marks
heart, not very difficult task once the
lad learned that ministerial converse.
ton was not confined to graphic pic.
lures OF eternal torment And then,
not quite realizing how this new inter.
est eked out the Christian fortitude
lust mentioned, he set about to make
Mark over. From Richard Courtney
the blacksmith's son had had his Yer.
gil and Xenophon and Homer, his
Euclid and Quackenbos. What may
have been best of all, he had had Rich.
ard Courtney.
In the intense, imaginative, quick
Drained lad Courtney thought he dis
cerned rare spirit fitted to be q
chevalier Of the Lord, a fighter of
others battles, bearer of others bur
dens; thus we may read what Richard
Courtney would have made his own
life. He, the exile, had failed; but in
the larger life from which he had been
banished he would live again and be
felt through fine strong man Of his
| making. For ten years he had jeal-
ously surveyed the prospect, patiently
toiled and prayed that 1t might be.
But now, when the day for which he
had prepared was come, he was not
happy. The question continually re-
CURED. How we'll had he builded?
With suddenly clarified vision he be-
held the youth at his side, raw. un-
shaped, the reaches of his soul as yet
unlighted by purpose. unwarmed by
inspiration. After ten years hs was
almost as Richard Courtney had found
him.
81 have secured the windows. /
cannot give the light" thought the
preacher sadly.
He became aware that Mark had
broken the silence. II owe you q
lot" he had said.
Not very much" Courtney sighed.
II wish It were more-much more"
"Oh. yes, 1t Is much. You've taught
me to read and talk and-and think"
Courtney repressed an unhappy smile.
You've made me-see big. You've
got me ready to go away from here.
IL appreciate it"
I'D rather you could see true. But
must you got" The plea was without