The Tabor independent. [volume] (Tabor, S.D.) 1913-19??, 1915-03-18
MARY MIDTHORNE
GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEoN.,
Author Of -Graustark," -Truxton King" etc.
- Copyright 1871 By Dodd. Mead q Co.
Chapter u~-Continued.
It'll Til lIIl

The scared, timad voice OF his little
sister came to him through the keyhole.
He commanded her to go away, to leave
him alone to die. Then they would all
be sorry. Besides, he added, quick to
recognize a peril that might befaIl her.
IL their aunt caught her communicat-
ing with him. The little girl
stood her ground for a few mo-
ments and then went away. He was
better for her visit, however. He was
not alone In the world and friendless,
after all. Mary vas his, and he be-
longed to her. He would live for her
that he might In the end die for her.
II was then that his volatile, imag-
NATIVE brain began to build romance
out Of his predicament. He imagined
himself confined in q dungeon by I'M
Bcrupulous c~onspirators, from whose
clutches only the most heroic actions,
the most glorious stratagems would
serve to release him. In the midst Of
these exalted reflections, his aunt
came to the door and unlocked II, bid
1t was not a romantic way out Of his
difficulties, but 1t was a pleasing sum-
mons, after ell. His vengeance could
Wait-till after supper, at least.
Mrs. Blagden uttered a short gasp Of
dismay on catching q glimpse Of his
dirty, Dl00u-Sta1ned race.
go and wash your face at once" she
commanded. You are q perfect fright.
Why can't you keep yourself clean like
C~hetwynd? Go at ono and get that
horrid blood off your face! Not q
mouthful do you get until you are per-
lectly clean. Brush your clothes, too.
Don't let your uncle see you looking
like this. He would be shocked"
Here was fresh indignity, q new in
ANnaNNnA NM IAwv l-@IrA1 -..ana s.A-
his aunt's eyes for q moment, and she
must have felt the unspoken reproach
and amaZement in his glance.
Il don't want any supper" said Eric
surlily.
Wash you face, do you hear me?
Your uncle will attend to you later on.
My goodness, to think that a child as
young as you are should have 1t In his
heart to shed blood. w%antonly, cruelty,
as you have donei" ...
Eric iared up. ooh. it's not Chetty's
blood. It's all my own"
Your own? Why, you little rascal,
you know you cut Chetwynd with your
knife. He says &c. There's O horrid
cut on n OF his legs. Where Is your
knife? Give 1t to me at once! Heavens
knows what we are to do with you. You
will kill somebody. mark my Words
To her surprise, Eric INDUCED in q
broad grin. He was gratified to learn
that n Of his kicks had brought the
blood from Chetywnd's lean shin.
You wicked thing!" cried his aunt,
aghast in the face OF what she was
pleased to regard as malevolent glee.
HE lied, Aunt Rena, IL he said I
pulled a knife on him." cried the boy
holly. II never"
"Chetwynd does not lie" she inter-
rupted. Make yourself presentable at
once. Pastor Presbrey will speak to
you after supper. Heavens knows that
something must be DONE"
He and little Mary ate their supper
in the pantry, while Chetwynd. nurs-
ing q throbbing shin-bone, sat beside
the minister at table and talked Of his
afternoon with Virgil.
To illustrate the contrariness Of hui
man nature, the scion of the house Of
Blagden, down in his heart, envted his
late adversary the Joy Of eating in the
buffers pantry, while he was obliged
to sit up and be agreeable to the sane
timonious toady In the long frock coat
and immaculate cravat. That Is to say,
he envied him until the conversation Of
his elders drifted to the recalcitrant
lad in the pantry. Then he was glad
that he was there. Moreover, when
the meal was over, and the clerical ap-
petite satisfied for the time being, he
announced to his mother that he was
going to stay In the library and hear
what Mr.. Presbrey and his father had
to say to Eric and Mary when they
were hailed up before them for the
judgment hat was to be passed upon
them before they went to bed that
night. a.