The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1916-07-25

first to speak.
 'Now know what you meant wher you referred to that trip up the west branch, Cal" he said. "And you were right. It does take stuff to make that sort of gentleman. Isn't there any thing more to tell me? I am truly in terested, Cal"
 So Caleb told him then of "Old Toms" tin box. And while he was ex plaining the man and girl ahead, all ir one breath. skipped back to that day before yesterday, now many years gone. There was a quality of cama raderie in the girls half parted lips and eager impulsiveness of tongue that morning that was entirely boyish. But when Steve finally asked for Deyereau -Garry Devereau, who had followed him to the hedge gap that day and laid one hand upon his bowed, shamed shoulder = the light went from Bar bara's eyes. And Stephen O'Mara, who did not understand at first the quick hurt which entered them, stopped smil. ing too.
 q liked him. Steve said simply I've always remembered and liked him. Thinking of him and-and-has often kept ne from being too lonely nights, when was lonely enough"
 Do you remember little girl who was at our place the summer you were here?" Barbara then asked. "A pale, red Tipped. very shy little thing named Mary Graves?"
 Stephen nodded.
 "And do you remember how even then Garry seemed to care for her He was always supercilious with the rest of us: he tormented us or ignored us entirely. but never her."
 Again the inclination of the head.
 "Well. he grew up just that way Barbara went on, thoughtfully. "One never could tell what WAS, behind his Indifference or-or fippancies. He mocked at things, customs and courses of action, which, we have come to ac- ceRt and-and recognize. But he was always gentle with her, and kind, and -oh. J think reverend is the right word! Now, knowing Garry as I do- as you will when you see him again. the phrase may seem strange one to apply to him. And yet it describes best his bearing toward Mary Graves two years ago"
 She was walking ncre slowly now without knowing it.
 r~s~ MT. O'Mara, and she married another man, almost without word of expla nation to him. Nobody ever cited Garry as shining example, but he-that man whom Mary Graves married-had ar unspeakable record! Her family made the match-the newspapers call it a union of Americas fairest youth and powerful millions, don't they? Well he had them-and she married him And Garret Devereau dropped out o1 the world for long time.
 ''It was year before be came back People had already begun to talk about the way his father had gone before him he shot himself, MT. O'Mara, when he became tired of waiting for .Garry's mother to return-and when Garry re appeared they talked more. I never knew before that a change so terrible could take place in any one so much 2 man as know Garry to be. It's not just his face and his rather dreadful silence. It's not the fact alone that he drinks too much and shows it pitifully It's-oh, it's the pity that a brain SC keen could so deliberately commit sui eide.
 They've begun to drop him, MT. O'Mara, and you know what that means. But I'll always care for him deeply. That's why have asked hin up this fall. Don't you think you could come down again Friday if you have to go back into the woods before then I'm going to have party for some week end guests, a masque dance. Garry needs his friends now more than he ever did, and-and when you meet him will you-will you, please, not let him see that you notice how much he has changed?
 They found the conversation some how less easy after that. Morrison had grown inconceiyably in those elaps- ed years. It was no longer a river viii lage Morrison was a city now.
 Once when a squatly huge, red head ed, red shirted riverman with a week's s red stubble upon his cheeks lurched out of doorway ahead of them and stood snarling inadvertently at O'Mars the girl shrank against her companion and clutched his arm. The red shirted one fell to singing after they had passed. A maudlin rendition of "Har rigan, That's Me-" followed them long after they had rounded a corner. Steve looked down and smiled casually into Barbara's wide and startled eyes.
 That's river boss" he explained enjoying what he considers a roaring good time. His name is Harrigan. He works on the Reserve company's cut which we are to move in the spring and whenever he has had trifle more than enough he always sings that song He's willing to fight. too, to prove that it was written especially for himw
 He's not exactly a friend of yours Is he?" she said.
 "Weu, not sexzctly," Steve admitted.