Williams news., 1915-09-09

defaced, content has come again. am no longer a deceiver, my very worst is known"
 "Oliver?"-This some minutes later.a: Are we alone?" F5
 Quite alone,.father. Mrs. scoville is busy and Reuther-Reuther is in the room above. I can hear her light step overhead"
 The judge was silent. He was gaz- ing wistfully at the wall where hung the portrait of his young wife. He was no longer in his room, but in the cheery front parlor. This Deborah had insisted upon. There was, therefore, nothing to distract him from the con temptation have mentioned.
 There are things I want to say to you. Not many; you already know my story. But I do not know yours, and I cannot die till I do. What took you into the ravine that evening, Oliver. and why, having picked up the stick. did you fling it from you and fly back to the highway? For the reason ascribed to Scoville? Tell nae. that no cloud may remain between us. Let me know your heart as we'll as you now know mine"
 The reply brought the blood back into his fading cheek.
 Father, I have already explained all this to MT. Andrews, and now will explain it to you. l never liked MT. Etheridge as we'll as you did, and brooded necessarily in those days over the influence which he seemed to exert over you in regard to my future career But I never dreamed of do- ing him a harm, and never supposed that could so much as attempt any argument with him on my own behalf till that very night of internal compli- cations and coincidences The cause of this change was as follows: I had gone upstairs, you remember. leaving you alone with him as knew you de sired. How I came to be in the room above don't remember, but 1 was there and leaning out of the window directly over the porch when you and MT. Etheridge came out and stood in some final debate on the steps be- low. He was talking and you were lis tening. and never shall forget the eff feet his words and tones had upon me. I had supposed him devoted to you. and here he was addressing you tartly and in an ungracious manner which bespoke man very different from the one had been taught to look upon as superior. The awe of years yielded before this display, and finding him just human like the rest of us, the courage which I had always lacked in approaching him took instant poBses- sion of me. and I determined with boys unreasoning impulse to subject him to a personal appeal not to. add his influence to the distaste you at present felt for the career upon which, I had set my heart. Nothing could have been more, foolish and nothing more natural, perhaps, than lthe act which followed. I.ran down into the ravine with the wild intention, so strangely duplicated in yourself few minutes later, of meeting and pleading my cause with him at the bridge,e but unlikeGyou, took the middle of the ravine for my road and not the se- Ec1uded path at the side. It was. this which determined our fate, father, for here saw the stick and, catching it Aup without further thought than of4the facility 1t offered for whittling, started with it down, the rayine, Scoville was. not in sight. The moment was the one when he had quit looking for Reu- stherTand wandered away up the~ra7 vine. I have thought since that per haps the glimpse he had got ofshis lit [tls hhe- peGing from the scene of hfE crime may have stirred even his guilty conscience and. sent him of on his purposeless ram ble; butt however this was, I did not see him or anybody else as I took my way leisurely down towards Sthe bridge,~whittin at the. stick, and athinking; of what T should say to MT Etheridge when met him. And now for fate's final and most fatal touch! Nothing which came into my mind struck me quite favorably. The encounter which seemed such a very r Simple ''nfta matter When first contemss plated it.. began to assume quite diff ,ferent aspect as the moment for it apl Z -proaehed. aHBy. the time r had come abreast of the hollow, I was tired. of the whole business, and hearing his whistle and knowing by it that he was very near,9T plunged up the slope to ,avoid hin, and hurried straight away into toy ttqoywn.s That is my story. father. Ii. rSheard your steps approaching as ap4unged across$the path into which , had thrownSthe stick in my anger at having broken the. point of my knife blade upon it. I thought nothing of them then. Afterwards believed them to be Scoville's. which may ac- count to you for my silence about this whole matter both before and during the tFiaI- I was afraid of the witness stand and f;.what might be. elicited from me if I once got into the. handsrof the lawyers. My abominable reticence in regard to his former crime would be brought upTagainst me. and I was