Gilpin observer., 1918-01-31
THE MISSING WILL
BY MARIE HAMMOND.

Copyright. 1917. Western Newspaper Union.)
well. my children, I've made my
will"
Boyd Hartley looked Interested and
ever, were too eager to welcome their
visitor to think of anything outside Of
kindly attentions. Boyd helped his
wife's uncle remove his overcoat, while
Nettie placed his tall silk hat and cane
upon the hat rack.
Eyes, SIR" resumed Uncle william
Cass, as they led him into the bright
and coy sitting room and he shifted
the evening meal appetizingly. II just
went to Mr.. Byrd, my lawyer. and had
the matter settled once for ALL"
Ever since they were married, every
Tuesday evening MFR. Cass had come to
visit his dead wife's niece and her
husband. He would take supper with
them and usually stay all night. Boyd
was not earning large salary. and ev.
cry Wednesday the old man would re-
turn the compliment by sending them
hamper of provisions. The evening
passed in the pleasant home of the at.
tentive couple who really cared fol
him unselfishly, was a marked event
in the routine of Uncle William. He
seemed happy and relieved, almost
jolly, upon this special evening. He
declared that supper had never tasted
so good, and when Nettie placed him in
the most comfortable arm chair in the
the old man sank back with a sigh of
comfort and peaceful enjoyment.
"I'll help Nettie get the dishes out
Of the way, uncle" said Boyd, $50 we
can be together right away" and
Joined his wife in her usual task
Brisk and active, Nettie had her part
of the work done before her less able
assistant had finished putting away the
knives and forks. She removed her
apron and ran into the sitting room.
snow for nice evening, uncle
Boyd heard her say, and then there
was wild scream.
"What is it, Nettie!" spoke Boyd
startled.
"Oh, Boyd Come here! Come here"
Uncle William lay back in the chair
mOtiOnless. There was a set smile
upon his face, but he was dead. The
old man had passed away without a
| struggle amid the homage of honest,
loyal hearts and rare home comfort"
They buried him from their own lit
| tie home. Martin Evans was there,
sullen looking and bored. The lawyer
called the day after the funeral. Rev
headed cane and the familiar silk hat
of her uncle and stored them away, as
precious relics, in an unused wardrobe
in the attic. Mr.. Byrd was very seri-
GUS when he informed Nettie that they
had been unable to find the will.
at was sealed, attested and wit
messed at my Office the day of his
DEATH" he said. II do not know all
the contents, but I am aware of the
( general legacies my client planned to
make. We have searched his safety
deposit box, at the old home, but have
discovered no trace of the WILL"
Finally Martin Evans made applica-
ton to the court as nearest of kin of
the deceased and was awarded the es-
tate. His spendthrift policy began ut
once to develop. He squandered what
was left of liquid character, then he
mortgaged the store building. He
would have done the same with the
homestead and farm, but Mr.. Byrd
said:
"You can draw the income from the
farm and live in the old home, but
will not consent to any loan or sale.
hear you have farmed out that poor
little outcast child you agreed to care
for, and have put him in charge of u
wretched couple addicted to drink and
who are abusive to the child"
Boyd sought out Evans.
"See here, Evans" he said, 1--WE u
| favor to ask of you."
"If it's to borrow or beg, don't waste
your time" growled Evans.
ut Is neither. Nettie is lonesome,
we love children, and If you will turn
little Alan over to us legally we will
adopt him."
"Will 1? Surew said Evans. Good
radiance to bad rubbish"
Little Alan was welcome delight
! to the childless couple. He throve
nightly under loving care and com
fort. He was eight years old when,
one day, his active investigating spirit
ed him to ransack the garnet. He To-
Gated the cherished cane and silk hat
in the old wardrobe. Nettie, return
ing home from neighbours, with con-
sternation observed Alan parading
| down the street n square distant, lead
Ing a band OF urchins, Uncle Williams
high hat was on his head, Uncle Will