The Winslow mail., 1915-01-30

her pain.
1t was his plan to work his way
West, little by little. He had no
thought Of going down to Taunton
again. But when he stepped into the
free world there came over him an
irresistible desire to see the little
son who had been born to him.
He resolved to go down to Taun-
ton under cover Of night and plead to
be allowed to set eyes on the boys
face. Surely this much would not be
refused him.
He took the train to the metropo-
lis, and from there a local to Taunton.
He reached the town an hour before
sunset, and hung about the outskirts.
He could not face the people whom he
had known. He felt little shame on
his own account. 1t was for the sake
of the boy. And no sacrifice was too
great for him.
1t was about an hour before dark
when he crept up to the lawyers
house, which stood in extensive
grounds in a fashionable neighbor-
hood. Nobody had recognized him. He
breathed more freely when he reached
his goal
Through the window he saw his
father-in-law seated at table read
ing a newspaper. But ever and anon
the old man would put the paper down
and pace the room nervously. He
was evidently laboring under a severe
strain. Was it because this was the
day Of John Dunton's freedom?
The watcher looked up. A light
shone in a room on the second story,
the blind was drawn. Dunton sur
missed that this was the room in which
the little boy was lying. Johnny, the
child had been called, as though there
was to be only one of that name in
the family thenceforward. At first
Dunton had taken the naming as a
mark of remembrance; afterward he
understood
He could no longer resist the over
powering craving. Quietly he passed
through the grounds and rang the
bell.
1t was his father-in-law himself who
opened the door to him, and Dunton,
in the midst Of his own distress, could
not fail to be struck by the distress
on the features of the older man.
The lawyer recognized him, but
evinced no surprise. He led the way
quietly into his library.
Il don't want to trouble anyone"
began Dunton. But l am on my way
West, and l want to see my boy before
l 60 l shall never come back. Be
member that 1 have never seen him,
sir. You will understand, won't your
The lawyer looked fxedly at the
haggard man before him.
Does Lola know that you are COM
ing?" he asked.
NO" answered Dunton. Il have
not seen her since her visit to me two
weeks ago. I accept her decision and
yours, sir. But let me see my boy
again.
Yes, you shall see him." the law
yer answered You have a good
deal to answer for, John Dunton, but
now-now-'- He turned away and
his voice seemed to fail him.
He led the way up the stairs, and
as he went, Dunton read no pity in
the old mans step. He knew his fa-
ther-in-law to be infexible where he
had made up his mind. The broken
man followed him.
Up the stairs they went, and into
the lit room. The room at first seemed
empty. The gas was burning dimly,
and at first Dunton could see only the
outlines of the bed, with it's white
counterpane.
Then he saw the outlines Of lit
tie figure lying between the sheets.
And the lawyer turned up the gas and
stood looking fixedly at him.
This was his son, but Dunton start
ed back and cry of agony burst from
his throat
The little eyes were closed, but not
in sleep; the little waxen hands lay
heavily upon his breast. There was a
peaceful smile upon the face of the
dead child.
John Dunton flung himself upon his
knees beside the bed and wept as
though his heart was broken.
Presently he was aware that there
was another figure in the room. A
black-robed woman glided in and
kneeled at his side. Her arms sought
his neck and drew him toward her,
and together they mourned over tteir
child.
The lawyer came quietly toward
them.
This rs the beginning of your new
life, john" he said quietly. Your
new Hfe-together.'
Copyright, 1914, by W. G. Chapman