Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1921-08-19

need your help; can do very little
without your help. Come, John More
land!"
The hillman replied slowly: swell,
I'll go with ye over thar. But Ben
he'll haf to make the fust break at
a-bein' friends, cause I'm purity shore
! never will. AS soon as / git my
hat, Bill"
He went to the frontN porch End
took from a chairpost his broad
trimmed headgear. Then the two set
out.
They crossed an ox-wagon road, a
sweet-scented meadow, the river by
means of the blown-down sycamore.
another sweet-scented meadow AMI
another ox-wagon road, and entered
the cabin yard of the Littleford chief,
Here, too, many old-fashioned flowers
were In bloom; cane tishingpole,
slender and white, leaned against the
porch; It made Dale think CT
You wait out here" whispered
Dale, with hand on his companions
arm. "Tll go in and see If can per.
suade Littleford to make the advance.
I'm pretty sure can."
He started forward when hourd
rose from the stone step and grcwled
warningly. At that Dale halted and
sang out:
"Hello, Ben"
The front door swung open, creak-
Ing on wooden hinges, and Babes IA
ther, bareheaded and with a lamp In
his hand, appeared In the doorway.
He knew the voice that had summoned
him.
"Come right in, Mr.. Dale he In
vited with the utmost cordlality.
Come right in!"
He scolded the dog away, and Dale
entered the primitive home. He was
shown into the best room, where he
dropped easily into roOmy old rock
er that was lined with an untanncd
sheepskin. Ben Littleford put the
lamp on n crude table, drew up an
other chair, and sat down facing his
visitor. t'a.
I hope We amt Jest happened over
70 minute or two on business" he
drawlcd; II hope ye've come To spend
the night wi me, anyway"
"Im here In the Interests Of peace"
Dale began, looking at the hillman
squarely. II want you LittlcfordS to
be on good terms with your neigh
bors, the Morelands. John is out
there at your gate now; he is waiting
for yoa to ask him in and say TO him:
Let's begin anew; let's be friends,
your people and my people, you and
me- You want that, don't you, Benz
Babe did, I'm sure"
Littleford frowned, laced his big fin
gers together and twirlcd his big
thumbs. Now that he was once more
at home. with assurance that his
, daughter would entirely recover, he
was no longer weak; he had all his
old courage and all his old, stubborn
hill pride back.
Ell Ak John in," he tinS.ly de-
cided, "but he'll haf to make the fuSt
break at a-bein' friends. Me akin
him into my house is purity burned
good start toward friendship, amt
it?"
He arose, took up the lamp, walked
to the front door and opened 1t, and
called into the night:
won't We come In, JohnT'
81 reckon will, Ben," was the lazy
answer. "Fo' minute, anyhow. But
/ reckon I CANT stay long"
MOreland followed LittlefOrd into
the best room. Littlcford put the lamp
beside the worn leather-bOund Bible
on the table, and they sat down. They
looked steadily at each other, and
Dale saw plainly that both were Ill
NJ ease. Surely, thought MOreland, he
!el done great deal when he had
come into his old enemy's house.
Surely, thought LittlefOrd, lie had
done great deal when he had asked
John Morcland into his home.
Came a silence that was heavy.
Each wos depending upon the other to
make the advance. The two Clansmen
stared at each other more and more
sharply, and soon shadows of bitter
ness began to creep into their eyes.
Thea Major Bradley, guest of Ben
Littleford, strobe into the room with
a patrlcian and sOldierly air, and he
understood the situation perfectly.
'Gentlemen," he urged, "Shake
hands Be friends"
They didn't. Neither seemed to
have heard the major. 1t angercd Bill
Dale. His knowledge of these fcud
ists these grown-up children, was not
vet very thorough. lie went to his
feet. John Moreland, too, arose.
"We'd as we'll go, hadn't we: Dale
clipped, and there was disgust in his
voice.
81 reckon we had" agreed More
land.
They walked out of the cabin, leav'
ing Major Bradley and Ben Littlerord
gazing silently after them. At the
gate Dale caught John Moreland's
elon,.n oD1 b11tp1 him