Daily capital journal. (Salem, Oregon) 1903-1919, 1916-02-26

lressed in a rough suit OF gray as II
or travelling. He glanced with frown-
ng intentness at the big Office clock
Ibove the burning gas jet aud then
ooked llngeringly about the bank-lln-
;eringly and fondly, Uncle BushrOd
hought, as one who bids farewell to
lear and familiar scenes.
Now he caught up his burden again
Ind moved promptly and softly out Of
the bank by the way he had come
Ocking the front door behind him.
For a minute or longer Uncle Bush
rod was as stone in his tracks. Had
that midnight riher of safes and vaults
been any other on earth than the man
he was the old retainer would have
rushed upon him and struck TO save
The Weymouth property But now the
watchers soul was tortured by the
poignant dread of something worse
than mere robbery. He was seized by
IN accusing terror that said the Wey
mouth name and the Weymouth hon
II were about to be lost. Marse Rob
,rt robbing the bank! What else could
mean? The hour Of the night, the
stealthy visit to the vault, the satchel
brought forth full and with expedition
md silence, the prowler's rough dress,
lis sollcitous reading of the clock and
nolseless departure-what else could it
mean?
And then to the turmoil of Uncle
Bushrod's thoughts came the cOrrOb-
)rating recollection of preceding events
Mr.. Roberts increasing intemperance
md consequent many moods of royal
nigh spirits and stern tcmpers; the
asual talk he had heard in the bank
If the decrease in business and diff
Guilty in collecting loans What else
could it all mean but that Robert Wey-
mouth was an absconder-was about
% fly with the banks remaining funds,
eaving Mr. William, Miss Lefty, little
Nan, Guy and Uncle Bushrod to bear
he disgrace?
During one minute Uncle Bushrod
Considered these things, and then he
awoke to sudden determination and
lctiOn.
"Lawd, Lawdp he moaned aloud as
he hobbed hastily toward the side door
'Sech a comeoff after all desc here
! years Of big don's and fine dOin's.
Scan'lous sights upon de yearth when
lie Weymouth family done turn out
robbers and 'bezzersl Time for Uncle
Bushrod to clean out somebody's chick
en- coop and eben matters up. Oh,
Lawd! Marse Robert, you amt gwlne
do dat. N Miss Lefty an dem chillun
so proud and talkln' Weymouth, Wey-
mouth all de time! I'm gwlne to stop
you ef can. Spec you shoot Mr. Mig
gers head off eff he fool wild you, but
I'm gwine stop you eff can"
Uncle Bushrod, aided by his hickory
stick, impeded by his rheumatism, hur-
ried down the street toward the rail.
road station, where the two lines touch
ing WeymOuthyile met. AS he had ex
pected and feared, he saw there Mr..
Robert standing in the shadow Of the
building waiting for the train, He held
the s0tchel in his hand.
When Uncle Bushrod came within
twenty yards of the bank president
standing like huge gray ghost by the
station wall, sudden perturbation seiz
ed him. The rashness and audacity OF
the thing he had come to do struck him
fully, He would have been happy
could he have turned and fed from
the possibilities Of the famous Wey
mouth wrath. But again he saw. il
his fancy, the white, reproachful face
Of Miss Lefty and the distressed looks
of Nan and Guy should he fail in his
duty and they question him as to his
stewardship
Braced by the thought, he approached
in straight line, clearing his throat
and pounding with his stick so that he
might be early recognized. Thus he
might avoid the likely danger of too
suddenly surprising the sometimes has
ty Mr. Robert.
"ls that you, BushrodT called th,
claimant, clear voice of the gray ghost
"Yes, subj Marse Robert"
What the devil are you doing out a
this time Of night?'
For the first time in his life Unclt
BushrOd told MarSe Robert false
hood He could not repress II. II,
would have TO clrcumlocute little
His nerve was not equal to direct at
tack.
IL done been down. sub, to see oil
Aunt Mira Patterson. She taken sicl
in de night and kyar'ed her a bottl,
Of M'llndy's mederclne. Yes, sub"
"Humphr said Robert. You bette
get home out of the night air lt'
damp Youl hardly be worth klllmi
tomorrow on account of your rheum0
tism. Think I'm he clear day. Bush
rod?
81 low 1t will sub. De sun sot re-
las night"
Mr. Robert III cigar In the shadow
and the smoke looked like his gra
ghost expanding and escaping into th
night air. Somehow Uncle Bushro
could barely force his reluctant tongu
to the dreadful subject. He stood
awkward, shambllng, with his fee
upon the gravel and fumbling with hi
stick But then, afar o0f-three mile
away, at the Jimtown switch-he hear