Pierre weekly free press. (Pierre, S.D.) 1889-19??, 1915-11-25
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MARY MIDTHORNE
GEORGE BARR ~McCUTCHEON.
Author OF "Graustarh." -rruxton King etc.
Copyright, 1911. BY Dodd. Mead q ca.
CHAPTER xx111.-(cont,nued.o
III III uu


Cant do it, Miss joan" said he
s~tubbornly, but with an effort to sub
due the wistful loo in his I'D eyes.
Nothing would please me better. I'd
love - do 1t. But it amt right, as Mr..
King says. I got to go by what he
says"
Eric assumed an air of severity. DO
been meddling with your affairs"
"Meddling?" gasped Jabez.
Yes, Sir, meddling."
Go long with you. Eric" exclaimed
Jabez helplessly. Lies is lies"
And Mr.. King has put the hand Of
What's that" demanded Jabez,
bristlins.
Don't tease, Eric" in%terposed Joan.
THE church has a great deal to
answer for" insisted Midthorne. Med
ding like this with a mans business"
"~Business?" murmured Jabez.
Whose business?"
isn't it your business to make peo-
pie happy?"
well, l guess it's Mr.. Kings bust
ness, too" said he resignedly. He
down here n tells me the
truth about things and / see things in
a new way from what l used to. Old
Presbrey stretched the truth 80 that it
looked mighty fshy to me. Mr.. King
puts 1t in a nutshell. II he says it's
wrong to lie, why 1t is, that's all. Dang
1T all" he exploded ~virtuously. Il never
see a pirate in my life. Nor a hand
some princess either" John Payson
spoke. with a twinkle in his eyes. DO
you believe that everything In the bible
Is true, Uncle JABe?"
Jabez glared at him. "Ill believe 1t
all until some of you smart Alexis prove
1t amt. l used to laugh at that tale
about Jonar and the whale. Mr.. King
says it's p~aregorical. 1 told him no.
body could make me believe a Teller
er no bible. He said he didn't believe
1t either. It's Just a paryble."
They are Joking with you. Uncle
Jabe,' said Mary. coming to his rescue.
OF course. we are" cried Eric
warmly. I'VE will not ask you to tell
US any more lies. Mr.. King is right,
But you surely can't object to telling us
3 few true Stories"
Jabez Carr pondered. We'll" he
ftory amt with telin' unless it's Ii
lie Then. to change the subject,
which was more dangerous than he
cared to admit: When do you start
Eric?"
And so. instead of being entertained
by him on this Sunday afternoon. they
were content and eager to discuss their
own intimate affairs for his especial
benefit. thereby doing much toward the
support of Mr.. Kings missionary eff
forts and at the same time adding on
siderable to their own estimate of what
heaven really is.
JabeZ succeeded in grasping a few
of the more important details: a thou
sand trivial points escaped him. BY
din OF arduous questioning, he gath
cred that the ground was to be broken
next week for the Bright mansion: that
tho n)oro fnr tho 1,oo{ ~,Lli~ Jt1-o 80,
were Well under way; that Jack and
Mary We're to live in New York City;
that Eric and Joan We're to make Cor
NTH their home for a few years, at
least; that the Widow Payson would
not hear Of Adams removal to a sani-
tor!um in the A~dirondacks; that Mr..
Presbrey and Mr.. King were bosom
friends; that the former was prayer
leader in the reconstructed First
Church, and very sure about it; that
Mr.. Blagden was a greater man thar
ever before; that Mrs. Blagden was an
angel; that Corinth would be put on
the map to stay: that the world was a
very wonderful abiding Alace, after all.
One secret remained untold. He was
never to know that one of the tall
young men who sat there glibly talking
was his own grandson.
He walked with them to the gate
when the dusk of night began to fall.
1t had been a great afternoon for him.
but a distressingly short one. Yes, they
seemed to be growing shorter all the
time. He leaned on the bars and
watched them until they were out Of
sight among the trees.
Funny thing he unused, but l cant
remember being so keen about things
when l. was their age. Times mast,
have changed a whole lot. Still.
wonder. 1t was a long while ago. I
guess a young Teller is a young Teller.
no matter where o put him."
Their he went back. clucking to the
squirrels:
chair. eyed a dark and threatening
sky from the tiny lawn in front of thu,
Widow Payson's house in Handy
street. There was an alertness in his
eyes that contrasted sharply with the
inertness of his body, which sagged IN
the depths of the chair. Late after
noon winds came gently up from the
sea, bringing GOODNESS to relieve the
heat Of his blistering day in May.
Passers-by bespoke him from the
sidewalk. along which they hurried in
advance OF the approaching storm.
Riding at anchor in a safe cove"
said Adam to himself and of himself.
Mrs. Payson came to the porch.
II think we'd better have the nurse
get you into the house, Adam" she
said.
He looked wistfully at the sky. It'd
like to have a good drenching," he said
to her. 1T can't hurt me-"
Nonsense" she said. Don't be
silly" She went into the house to cali
the nurse.
He grumbled. "A little rain won't
spoil me. You'd think I was a lump of
& instead of clay"
The nurse and Mrs. Payson lifted
the chair to the tiny front porch.
I'll stay out here. II you please" he
said. until it really begins to rain.
like the rush of the wind. Don't
worry: I won't blow away I'm an
chored. safe enough"
They left him to wait for the sweep
OF the storm. Who can tell Of the
thoughts. the bitter conflict of thoughts. |
that ran through the keep, active brain
Of this wonderful ma as he sat there
glowering at q sky no blacker h a. his
mood?
There was life tn the wind that swept
his grim, expressionless face; there
was strength in the way 1t came up to
m . him. to caress him, to tantalize |
him. He opened his mouth and drank |
It IN. and held his breath as II to keep !
1t captive. His eyes shone with the |
love OF It. with the hatred of it. He
loved 1t because 1t was life. no hated