The Madison journal. (Tallulah, Madison Parish, La.) 1888-current, 1916-02-26

Aioi t"Sll IOdu. but I've no doubt vol
have already guessed my identity
IN sorry if | kept you waiting. We
had a blowout. Deucedly cold. ISM
1t! Shall we go inside?"
/ 1T is colder in there. Besides, oul
business is outside, | believe"
The wind was screaming so he had
to stand quite close to catch hel
words. An uncOmmonly pretty girl
by Jove," he said to himself.
A shrill whistle sounded in the dis
lance. and both turned quickly. A
big interurban trolley car appeared
around the curve of the road and sped
on a raised track across the open
space below them.
The suit comes up next week.
believe. began Kathleen.
Unless you change your mind and
have it withdrawn"
Why should L."
TO begin with, l don't think you
have much chance"
is there no justice in the world,
then? What are courts for?"
Justice" he answered. No Judge
can see why strip of track should
DO any damage to a farm"
Perhaps he can see it if it is ex-
planned to him that the road got it's
right of way under false pretense, that
the track cut my fathers farm in two
TO begin with, and that the raising of
1t made it impossible to pasture a
herd OF cows on one side with the
barn on the other. A culvert would
have cost us two thousand dollars,
and the company wouldn't pay it.
Further, when he saw in despair that
his big dairy farm was ruined, began
TO have visions of a summer hotel
and petitioned the company for a sta
ton. But that was refused, too. He
was ruined financially and in health.
He was too old to stand the blow,
and he died"
Horace Davidson was silent awhile
Then, Why don't you sell the place?'
Il would if | could. No one will
have it with that ugly raised track in
the wrong place.
He saw that she was shaking with
emotion and cold. Miss Lowell" he
said more kindly, after all it was
foolish OF me to ask you to meet me
out here. We can talk better in my
office in town."
The next morning. Horace Davidson
was having trouble about a button
which had disappeared from his over
coat.
Evelyn" he begged his married
sister, will you sew a button on my
overcoat II you happen to have any.
thing at all that will match?"
Such shiftlessness! Where's your
tailor? Take it up to the sewing
room, the proper place for such oper-
ations. You'll find someone there"
So Horace went upstairs and along
a hall to remote corner of the great
house, where he had a vague idea the
sewing room was. An open door
through which light shone and the
faint whir of a machine were his
guides. and he soon found himself
watching girl, her head and Shout
ders bent over the machine, a dark
island in pillows upon pillows of
snowly-white stuff.
Il beg your pardon" said Horace.
The whir stopped and the girl
looked around. 1t was Kathleen Low.
ell. She sprang up, instantly recog.
nizing him. Mr.. Davidson! How
you startled me! Won't you sit
DOWN."
Thank you, Miss Lowell. We seem
destined to meet in white acres, al
though must say this landscape is
warmer than the last one. To ex.
plain my errand this time, l was told
to come here to have button sewed
on. May l beg the favor?" He held
out the coat he had been holding on
his arm.
Kathleen flushed. Certainly. I'll
do it right away. Have you the but.
TOM"
mo. l thought maybe there might
be one around that would match"
I'm afraid not. They are very odd.
Oh, I believe-Why, yes! found one
in the station yesterday and put it in
my bag. It's up in the schoolroom
with my things. I'll get it. You see,
I'm the children's governess."
He looked his surprise and inquiry.
This is extra-you see!" she ex.
planned. Il teach days and sew nights"
And all this because the road ran
through your farm and ruined it,"
She looked away and didn't answer.
A new look had come into the mans
eyes, stern and determined. Give
me that coat, Miss Lowell. I'll sew
on my own button" She handed 1t
over wondering.
You go home now and stay the
rest of the winter. When spring comes,
move back into your home in the coun.
try. I'll answer for the road. I'm a
big stakeholder myself. l am going to
make 1t my business to see that you
are treated properly"
Copyright. 1916. by the Mcclure Newspa- |
per Syndicate.)