The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1915-02-04

He took the train to the metecpo
lis, and from there 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 severe
strain. Was it because this was the
day of John Dunton's freedom?
The watcher looked up. A light
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
mark of remembrance afterward he
understood.
He could no longer resist the over
towering craving. Quietly he passed
through the grounds and rang the
bell.
It 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.
rhe lawyer recognized him. but
evinced no surprise. He led the way
quietly into his library.
II don't want to trouble anyone.
began Dunton but am on my way
West, and l want to see my boy before
| go. | shall never come bach. Re-
member that l have never seen him,
sir. You will understand, won't you!
The lawyer looked tixedly 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. | 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 IA
ther-in-law to be inf1exible 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 firet seemed
empty. The gas was burning dimly,
and at first Dunton could see only the
outlines of the bed, with Its White
counterpart.
Then he saw the outlines OF a lit
tie figure lying between tho sheets
And the lawyer turned up the gas and
stood looking fixedly at him.
This was his son, but Duntou start
ed back. and a 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
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 their
child.
The lawyer came quietly toward
them.
This is the beginning of your new
life. John" he said quietly. Your
new life-together."
| Copyright, 1914. by w. G. Chapman.>