New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1918-01-27


was abashed to find himself mad
vertently conspicuous. He had very
heartily permitted himself to be
photographed in the centre Of small
group of lads from his parish who had
heard their countrys call and were home
IN their khaki for last leave-taking
Moreover, the excellence of the photogra ri,
and the undeniably close resemblance of
his own portrait to the reflection he sur
Veyed each morning when shaving had de-
cidedly pleased him. But the appearance
CT this group first as an illustration in a
local paper. and then in one that enjoyed
& very wide circulation indeed, embar-
raised him not a little For he was mod
est, publicity avoiding man, and also he
felt he ought to have been in khaki, too
Not that Mr.. Burnett had ANYTHING
really to reproach himself with. for he was
IN the tortles, some years above military
age. But he was a widower without a
family, who had already spent fifteen
years in sparsely inhabited parish in the
southeast of Scotland not very far from
the border and ever since he lost his wife
had been uneasy in mind and little NOR
bid and anxious for change of scene and
fresh experiences. He was to get them
and. little though he dreamed it. that
group was their beginning Indeed. it
would have taken as cunning a brain to
scent danger in the trihing incidents with
which his strange adventure began as it
took to arrange them. And Mr.. Burnett
was not at all cunning, being a simple.
quiet man. In appearance he was rather
tall, with clean-shaven, thoughtful face,
and hair beginning to turn gray
few days later a newspaper arrived
by post. He had received several already
from well meaning friends, each with that
group in it, and he sighed as he opened
this one. 1t was quite a different paper.
however, with no illustrations, but with a
certain page indicated in blue pencil, and
blue pencil mark in the margin of that
page. What his attention was called to
was simply the announcement that the
Rev. Mr.. Maxwell, minister of the parish
OF Myredae had been appointed to an
other charge, and that there was now a
vacancy there.
Mr.. Burnett looked at the wrapper. but
his name and address had been typcwrt
ten and gave him no clew He wondered
VINO mad sent HIM the paper, and then his
thoughts naturally turned to the vacant
parish. He knew that it lay in a certain
group of northern islands which we NAV
call here the Windy Isles, and he pre-
sumed that the stipend would not be great.
Still, it was probably better living than
his own small parish, and, as for it's re-
moteness-well, he liked quiet, out of the
way places, and it would certainly be a
complete change of scene. He let the mat
ter lie in the back of his mind, and there
IL would very likely have remained but for
curious circumstance on the following
Sunday.
HIS little parish church was seldom
visited by strangers, and when by anv
chance one did appear the minister was
very quickly conscious of the fact. He al
ways took stock of his congregation dur
ing the first psalm, and on this Sabbath
ms experienced eye had noted STRANGER
oe1ore the end of the opening verse.
pleasant looking gentleman in spectac]es
ne appeared to be, and of a most on
emplary and devout habit of mind. In
TACT, he hardly once seemed to take his
specialized gaze off the minister's face dur-
ing the whole service, and Mr. Burnett be.
heved IN giving his congregation good
measure e
IL was hne day, and when service was
over the minister walked back to his name
at very lelsurely pace, enjoying the sun
SHINE after week of showerv weather.
The road he followed crossed the river
and as he approached the bridge he saw
fhe same stranger leaning over the nara.
pet smoking a cigar and gazing at the
brown stream. Near him, at the side Of
the road, was drawn up a large dark
green touring car, which apparently the
gentleman had driven himself, for there
was no sign of chauffeur.
Good day, sir" said the stranger
&ffably, as the minister came mp to him
Lovely weather"
Mr.. Burnett, nothing loath to hear a