The evening Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1918-1920, 1919-03-21

ignorance OF the ways IN which men
did business and looked upon such
things. He could try to convince the
old fnancier that he was not the
kind that had to send women to plead
for him-that was the shame of it.
Down below McDermott's he
heard morse and rig coming along
| the muck and slush of the road. He
recognized Timothy Bailey's ole
white horse and &high-bodied buggy
He stepped out in front.
"Tim, Tim" he cried, shave yor
just come from Paris?"
The long, lank young farmer de.
clared that he had.
"Did you pass my little black mare
on the road,-with my wife driving
herr"
Reckon l did," returned Tim
down near Marshall Mills pono
bottoms
"Tim,-would you turn your horse
around and drive like the devil to
overtake her? I'll pay you well!'
you'll pay me! drive like the
devil! say, what tn hell, Jack?
you're woman amt runnin' away
from you, be she?'
"No,-she's started on an e1rand to
Paris that's an awful mistake and
misunderstanding. I've got to reach
her before she gets to a certain par
ty. Please, Timothy!"
Timothy backed his old white horse
clumsily about and the two men splat-
tered back toward the town.
twenty-five minutes later they
reached the top of Preston hill on the
west side of Paris village and turned
south on Vermont Avenue. Hero
stretched our residential section con-
tanning the homes of our summer
people. One fine old-fashioned places
with broad verandas stood back from
the walk amid a lawn dotted with
silver birches. At the hitching post
rig was tied. Jack Purse recog-
nlzed the horse from afar.
"Old Zeke's place!" echoed limo
thy. "Cripes! What's. you're woman
doin' at old Zeke's?o'
II can't tell you-now,'' returned
Jack. elbow much for bringing me
here, Tim? You don't need to wait.
I'll drive home with Mary"
II guess you don't owe me
nothin'. I had trouble with. my wo-
men folks myself, We all dor
He would take no pay. Jack "a
lighted and went up the walk.
Panic siezed him as he approached
the enormous pile which he had al
ways viewed from. the. street, and
which increased in size and ominous
dignity like a nightmare as he came
close. He could never ring the bell
and go into this house and face the
man of whom a leading financial writ
er had once penned: when E. E.
Ezekial takes snuff we all sneeze!H
And yet Mary was in there now,
putting him to shame. And Timothy
Bailey was down at the end of the
walk standing. in his buggy ano
watching to behold the, miracle Of
Jack Purse gaining an entrance to The
SWEETEST" place in Paris, and ready
with embarrassing questions if hi
went soft now and turned back. II,
had to go on. He pulled the china
white knob of the bell as in dream
A horse-faced man servant cam
! in response to the summons. H
snapped on q light over. Jacks hea
and the whole. broad varanda wa
illmined..
II want to see ;. Mr.. Ezekial
! I've got to see him on. something
real important. Purse. is the name
i I'm from the local newspaper.
h "Wait here" directed the servant
81 believe Mr.. Ezekial is busy a
Il present"
eyes, I know! Tell him that
| Just what I want to see him abou
! I'll not take No for an. answer.
[ can'ti"
The servant left the, big glass doc
Il ajar. In a moment he was back.
4 "Mr. Ezekial says he'll give you fl
/ teen minutes because you're O
E the local paper. Follow metz
Fl He led Jack into richly appointe
& hall and up a wide staircase. The
H turned the balustrade post in fro1
E of stained-glass window with lu,
urious window-seat and went dow
4 the upper hall. At door on til
{ right the servant tapped.
"Alf right declared heavy voic
II Jack was being consumed with agr
/ and nerves. His thoughts were col
II fused, his vision blurred. He onl
H knew he was going to make son
i sort of an apology to old man Ez
H kial. explain that it didn't matt.
what his wife had asked, he kne
how business men looked on sur
H things and would seek the capital
/ the proper channels or not at all. I'll
Y servant with the elongated featur.