Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1915-05-13

had Oi1Fer not seen MIN IN MS oiu
likeness for that one terrible half-hour.
he would not know these features, so
sunken. yet so eloquent with the peace
Of one for whom all struggle is over.
and the haven of his long rest near.
Had he been able at this moment TO
,eok beyond the fences which his fear
mad reared, he would have seen at
either gats a silent figure guarding the
walk. and recalled, perhaps, the hor-
ror of other days when at the contem-
plation of such a prospect, his spirit
recoiled upon itself in unimaginable
horror and revolt. And yet, who
knows! Lies passions fade when the
heart is at peace. And Archibald Os-
trander's heart was at peace. Why.
hts next words will show.
"Oliver"-his voice was low but
very distinct. never have a secret;
never hide within your bosom a
thought you fear the world to know. II
you've done wrong-if you have dis
obeyed the law either of God or man
seek not to hide what a never be
hidden so long as God reigns or men
make laws. | have suffered, as few
men have suffered and kept their rea-
son intact. Now that my ~wlckedness
is known, the whole page of my life
defaeed, content has come again. /
am no longer a d%eceiver, my very
worst is known"
"Oliver?"-This some minutes later.
"Are we alone?"
quite alone, father. Mrs. Scoville
Is busy and Reuther-Reuther is in
the room above. I al 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
CHEEKY front parlor. This Deborah had
insisted upon. There was. therefore,
nothing to distract him from the con
temptation l have mentioned.
There are things | want to say to
you. Not many; you already know my
story. But do not know yours, and
| cannot die till | 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 eason
ascribed to Scoville? Tell me. that
no cloud may remain between us. Let
me know your heart as well as you
now know mine"
The reply brought the blood bach
into his fading cheek.
Father, l have already explained
all this to Mr.. Andrews, and now | viii
explain it to you. l never liked Mr.
Etheridge as we'll as you did, and
brooded necessarily in those days
over the influence which he seemed t.
exert over you in regard to my future
career. But | never dreamed of do
ing him a harm, and supposed
that | could so much as attempt an!
argument with him on my own behal
till that very night of internal compli
cations and condolences. The caus'
of this change was as follows: | hat
gone upstairs, you remember, leaving
you alone with him as | knew you de
sired. How | came to be in the room
above l don't remember, but | wa
there and leaning out of the windoN
directly over the porch when you an
Mr.. Etheridge came out and stood !
some final debate on the steps BIZ
low. He was talking and you were lii
tening, and never shall forget the e.
feet his words and tones had upon me
. | had supposed him devoted to yol
and here he was addressing you tartl
/ and in an ungracious manner whic
= bespoke a man very different from tn
F.. one | had been taught to look upon a
| superior. The awe of years yielde
y before this display, and finding hir
just human like the rest of us, tn
courage which l had always lacked /
approaching him took instant posse
sion of me, and I determined with
boys unreasoning impulse to subjet
him to a personal appeal not to ad
his influence to the distaste you
y present felt for the career upon whic
| had set my heart. Nothing coul
o have been more foolish and nothin
. more natural, perhaps, than the az
which followed. l ran down into I'll
t. ravine with the wild intention. s
l. strangely duplicated in yourself a fe
e. minutes later, of meeting and pleadir
'e my cause with him at the bridge, b'
unlike you, | took the middle Of Il
1t ravine for my road and not the s
cluded path at the side. 1t was tn
le which determined our fate, father, f
here | saw the stick and, catching
re up without further thought than of Il
facility it offered for whiting, start
with 1t down the ravine. Scoville W
not in sight. The moment was t
one when he had quit looking for Re
Their and wandered away up the
H. vine. l have thought since that p'
W, haps the glimpse he had got of his
IN tie n peering from the scene Of
crime may have stirred even his gull
lie conscience and sent him of on !
pu~rposeless ramble; but, however Il
ng was, l did not see him or anybo
hit else as l took my way leisurely do
wv towards the bridge. whiting at I
re stick and thinking of what | sho,
ia say to Mr.. Etheridge when met hi
en- And now for fate's final and most ia
he touch! Nothing which came into
RS, mind struck me quite favorably. 7
-er encounter which seemed such a W