Tombstone epitaph., 1917-02-04

given cut no one could say. The woods were quiet. and the two kneeling hg- ures in the laurel made no sound. The other men. waiting at their separated posts. were equally invisible and noise- less. but some intangible premonition had come to the shadow which had lost itself in the impenetrable black ness and began its retreat with its ob- feet unaccomplished.
 Young Milt went back to his house in the cold mists of dawn. No shot had been fired. no face recognized. but the Havey and the McBriar both knew that the school had been saved by their joint vigilance.
 Some days later the news of that night watch leaked through to Jerry Everson. who bore the tidings to Juan ita. and she wrote a note to Anse Ha- vey asking him to come over and let her express her thanks in person.
 The mail rider brought her a brief reply penned in a hand of copybook care.
 don't take any credit. only did what any other man would do. and young Milt McBriar did as much as l did. Thank him if you want to- It would only be awkward for me to come over there.
 Respectfully. ANSE HAVEY.
 Old Milt McBriar heard of his sons part in the watching of the school and brooded blackly as he gnawed at the stem of his pipe. but he said nothing. The boy had been sent away to college and had had every advantage. Now he had unwittingly but none the less ! surely, turned his rife on one of his fathers hirelings bent on his fathers work, for the oil-soaked kindling had been laid at Old Milt's command. The thing did not tend to make the leader of the McBriars partial to the innovations from down below. One day. when Juanita went down to the post office, which nestled. unob- trusively behind the single counter of the shack store at the gap. she found a letter directed in a hand which set her heart beating and revived many old memories.
 She climbed to the crest. sat down under the poplar. and began to read tke letter from the man she had sent away.
 He said that he had made a sincere effort to reconcile himself to her deci. sion which exiled him. The effort had failed. He had been to the Mediter- ranean and the East. His letter con cluded:
 Can you not find 1t in your heart to be tou6hed by my devotion Not only happi- ness. but peace dwells where you are. and I am coming to you. To not forbid me. for am coming any way. I am coming because I must: be- ca'.s, I love you.
 iShe sat for long time gazing of at the distances and shivered a little in l 'is bite of the raw air. Then she looked up and saw figure at her side. It was Bad Aase Havey. He bowed and stripped of his coat. which, without asking permission, he threw around her shivering shoulders.
 .'I didn't aim to intrude on ye." he said slowly. q didn't know ye was up here. Do ye come often?" Very often" she answered, folding the letter and putting it back into its envelope. When l first came to the Widow Eyerson's I discovered this tree, and it seemed to beckon to me to comv up. Look" She rose and point ed of with gauntleted hand. "I can | stand here and see the Notifications of ! ly two enemies. There is your place and there is Milt McBriar's."
 She smiled with unconscious arch. ness. But I'm not going to let you be my enemy any more." she went on. I've decided that you have got to be | my friend. whether you want 10 be or not-and what l decide upon must be" Bad Anse Hayey stood looking into her eyes with the disconcerting steadi- | ness of gaze that she always found it difficult to sustain, but his only re- sponse was a sober I'm obleeged to ye."
 Perhaps that letter. with it's old re- minders had brought back a little of | the old self's innocent coquetry. She stood with her gloved hands in the deep pockets of her sweater jacket with his coat hanging from her shoul- ders About her deep-violet eyes and sensitive lips lurked a subtle appeal for riendship-perhaps. though she did not know it-for love.
 "I have behaved abominably to you. Mir. Havey." she confessed. Its nat ural that you should refuse me forgive ness" For a moment her eyes danced and she looked up. challengingly. into his face. But it's natural. too. that I | should refuse to let you refuse. We are going to be friends. I am going to smash your old feud to splinters and I'm going to beat you, and just the same we are going to be friends"
 Again his reply was brief. | Tin obleeged to ye."
 | You have been very good to me-" she went on, and the note of banter left her voice; and you refused to let me thank you"
 For a moment he was silent, then he replied awkwardly: T reckon it's pret. ty easy to be good to you" After that she heard him saying in a very soft l voice:
 "One of the first things I remembers is being fetched up here by nanny when I was a spindlin' little chap. She used to bring me up here and tell me Indian stories. Sometimes my pappy came with us. but mostly it was just my nanny an me"
 Your father was a soldier, wasn't