The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1915-01-02
EORGElRANDOLPH Cf1ESIEE2I

(Coatinued.)
 The best was yet to come, however, for, after having detailed these few simple facts, the budding genius, with loud plunk, fell back on his inagi- I nation. and, though hemmed in by the absence of display type, narrated in a free running. ball bearing lie how the worthy citizens had staked out claims in the front yard, the back garden, the l stony hillsides and the meadow and how this morning they were feverish- Iy buying and selling shares in these claims on F1agpole square. Pausing to give the tension spring on his typewriter another twist, the giee- ful, gurgling correspondents had manu- l factured a gaudy life history for the seeretive old Jonathan and incidental l ly mentioned that the historic old man sion, provided on the spot with TO- | nance of the Revolutionary war, one of the civil war and with ghost, was a repository of priceless antique fur nituEe dating from the landing of Co- lumbus, the whole now being owned by one J. Rufus WaIIingford, a world l famous connoisseur and antiquarian. On the arrival of Mr. Wallingford wholesale arrests were expected. Edided, instructed and improved by this intellectual treat, WaIHngford stepped from the train st Poplarvil1e and ran straight into an eager young chap with straw colored hair and gold trimmed glasses.
 eThis is MT Walhngfofd, believe" said the young chap before the porter had set down that eminent conno1s- seur and antiquarianis grips. lg WalIingford cIuSched him warmly by the hand and viewed him with frank admiration. You're the young man who writes for the New York papers" be correctly guessed. S.sWhat's your name ?'
 Paul PoIlet''
 ssThat cinches it. chuckIed wallfng- ford You're hired l Paul PoIiet had produced notebook to make few jottings. but now be slammed 1t back into his pocket. "Home, hotel or sheriff s? ?'1. he briskly Inquired. bundlfng. Wa1lingford into a I rickety old cab
 "SheriG2.' repeated WalEngford in perplexaty- 'sOh, yess suppose you have 1t all planted for me. to arrest the town"
 4 shade of appointment dawned on the others face. "I have a posse of twenty deputies sworn in and wait I ing the word. It would make great follow story-,'
 moment Drive to the sherif's,' he said
 Paul PelIet's brows cleared instantly. twill you excuse me minute ?' | 's.sAll right granted WaIIingfor1. Where are you going7' I : Unto the telegraph office to file my description of the wholesale arrests and. l the riottng which followed. I had planned to have the state militia here i by tomorrow And, Jerking bulky manuscriph from his pocket, he darted for the depot.
 ttWaft minute!' called Walhng gford. ] And then as Paul came back, ssIs there anything in your story about the an tique furniture?''
 Not line"
 ssGet mention of it in some place where they can't lift it out.'' Its in,'' promised Paul, and whiz- zed.. He was gone Eve minutes and l came running back with purple copy ing ink on his ear, but happy. He i'm mediately bounced into the cab sNow, MT. Wallingford, what am I hired for?'
 'Secretary and prospectus writer"
 ssI'H have old, Henry stop at the of 1 l ed Paul happily. q have to resign. 1 You'll pay me more than I'm getting now and expenses. How soon may l l write prospectus ?'' l Right away promised Wallingford. i sI want a hossy descriptive catalogue i pf that antique furniture. For moment young MT. Pollet look ed blank e'I'm afraid I don't know much about antique furniture" :" he con fessed
 WalIingford turned on him reproach. l full eyes. s4Do you need facts for a good story?'' he demanded.
 ssThey only gum it up," announced 1 Paul with conviction. '1 thought ought to get your instructions, though. I'll make you catalogue that any an- 1 tiquar1an corld re91 to his family. I. l think, I'll ran on ahead to the Re former office" and he 1eaped out of the cab with a friendly word of en- engagement to the horse.
 He was standing in front of the sherifrs office when old Prince stopped there with sigh, and he made every thing easy for Wallingford
 9'sJust sit still, but have your fountain pen ready he suggested. "I'I1' bring out the warrants for you to sign. It's the custom here They're all ready. There's fifty-eight of them, so far.'' The posse, each man with a glitter ing tin badge on his breast, marched out in solemn array. while Paul was still in the office, and lined up against the wall, happy in their stern ferocity, and grateful to the stranger who had made it possible for them to arrest l their reiO hForS