The Huttig news., 1915-02-13

with Adrienne Lescott-Who. every one supposed, meant to marry Wilfred Horton. This little party tonight is. to put it quite mildly, a bit uneon- ventional"
 The stout gentleman said nothing, and the other questioned, musinely:
 By the way, Bradburn, has the Kenmore Shooting club requested Will fred Horton's resignation yet?'
 Not yet We are going to- He's not congenial. since his hand is raised against every man who owns more than two dollars The speaker owned several million times that sum. This meeting at an out-of-the-way place had been arranged for the purpose of discussing ways and means of curb ing Wilfred's crusades
 Well, don't do it.
 Why the devil shouldn't we? We don't want anarchists in the Ken more"
 After awhile, they sat silent, Farbish smiling over the plot he had just de- vised, and the other man puffing with a puzzled expression at his cigar.
 That's all there is to it." summar- ized MT. Farbish, succinctly "If we can get these two men. South and Horton, together down there at the shooting lodge, under the proper condi- tions, they'll do the rest themselves, think. I'll take care of South. Now, it's up to you to have Horton there at the same time'
 .How do you know these men have not already met-and amicably?" de- manded MT. Bradburn.
 "I happen to know it, quite by chance. It is my business to know things-quite by chance!"
 
 Indian summer came again to Misery, Haunting woodland banners of crimson and scarlet orange, but to Sally the season brought only heart achy remembrances of last autumn. when Samson had softened his stoi- cism as the haze had softened the hori- zon. He had sent her few brief let ters-not written, but plainly printed. He selected short words-as much like the primer as possible, for no other messages could she read. There were times in plenty when he wished to pour out to her torrents of feeling, and it was such feeling as would have carried comfort to her lonely little heart He wished to tell frankly o1 what a good friend he had made, an( how this friendship made him more able to realize that other feeling his love for Sally There was in his l mind no suspieion-as yet-that these two girls might ever stand in conflict as to the right of-way. But the letters he wished to write were not the sort he cared to have read to the girl by the eyangelist-doctor or the district school teacher. and alone she could have made nothing of them However, T love you" are easy words-and those he always included.
 The Widow Miller had been ailing for months, and, though the local physician diagnosed the condition as being right porely," he knew that the specter of tuberculosis which stalks through these badly lighted and ven- tilated houses was stretching out it's fingers to touch her shrunken chest. This had meant that Sally had to fore go the evening hours to study, be- cause of the weariness that followed the day of nursing and household drudgery Autumn seemed to bring to her mother a slight improvement, and Sally could again sometimes steal away with her slate and book, to sit alore pn the big 5owlder, and study.
 She would not be able to write that Christmas letter. There had been too many interruptions in the self-imparted education, but some day she would write There would probably be time enough It would take even Sam son a long while to become an artist,
 One day. as she was walking home ward from her lonely trysting place she met the battered-looking man who carried medicines in his saddlebags and the Scriptures in his pocket, and who practiced both forms of healing through the hills. The old man drew down his nag, and threw one leg over the pommel
 rNeIiH odllF, 1e greeted.
 "Evenin', Brother Spencer How air ye?"
 "Tofsble, thank ye, Sally" The body and-soul mender studied the girl awhile in silence and then said blunt ly:
 We've done broke right smart. in the last year. Anything the matter with ye?"
 She shook her head. and laughed It was an effort to laugh merrily. but the ghost of the old instinctive blitheness rippled into it.
 I've jest come from old Spicer South's, volunteered the doctor Hes ailin' pretty consid'able, these days
 What's the matter with Unc' Spi- cer?' demanded the girl, in genuine > anxiety. Every one along Misery called the old man Unc Spicer
 T cant jest make out" Her in former spoke slowly, and his brow cor rugated into something like sullen-