Shoshone journal. [volume] (Shoshone, Idaho) 1884-1931, 1921-04-15

as hugging poor girl She said she
knew she wasn't here for long
enough"
Laughter dubbed into Pamela's eyes
alongside of the tears, but, in spite of
it, the next moment she was crying
softly.
"P-poor M-Maggieg she sobbed.
Tomlinson bobbed his head up and
down in formal sympathy, too old TO
worry much over woman's weeping.
Il understand that she must ave
went" he said elise you wouldn't be
alone, miss. VIII you have your
breakfast in bed?"
ooh, could II" shifted Pamela, and
then her eyes fell on the clock. mo,
I can't" she decided for herself. ''You
see, Tomlinson, only pro-promised to
stay until ten"
"In be getting your bath ready,
then, miss" said Tomlinson, and with
drew.
Half an hour later Pamela was en-
joying a lonely tray breakfast, placed
at her command before the couch,
which faced the friendly fire in the big
living-room. Without being a mind
reader, it is possible to surmise that
she ate very slowly, in the vain hope
that Mr.. Randolph would pop in, with
or without Father Christmas, and
joining her in the meal, Danish a baby
Mr.. Gloom that was hanging round.
While she was still toying with her
food she heard the bell ring and Tom
linsOn's voice saying, in deep, respect
full tones Miss Thornton will see you,
sir. She is in the sitting-room."
Pamela dropped her egg-spoon and
stood up, back to the fire, just in time
to face a neatly dressed, pink-cheeked
bright-eyed, bald-headed little gentle
man, who stood, poised but alert, in
the open doorway, like a bird about
to peck at her to see If she were the
real thing.
Miss Thornton?" he asked, in a Pc
culiarly liquid voice.
Pamela nodded her head twice.
Il am Mr.. Borden Milyuns," contin-
ued the molten voice, and the bright
eyes studied her face expectantly.
Pamela puckered her brows in an
effort to meet that expectancy half
way. but failed.
Are your she asked dOubtfully,
and with a mental reservation against
Mr.. Robert Hervey Randolph for out
raging the traditions of childhood by |
sending a Father Christmas in this |
1apper form. won't you sit DOWN."
she added politely.
Mr.. Milyuns hung poised for a sec
md longer, and then advanced on the !
couch decisively, sat down on one end
Of it. and waved his hand at the other.
Tomlinson slipped in and out, bearing |
The breakfast-tray away. Pamela &C
,epted Mr.. Milyuns' silent invitation
md seated herself, but tentatively, as
-hough she could only stay for a min
lite.
Make yourself comfortable, my
lear" said Mr.. Milyuns I'm going to
ak to you for some time"
You can't" said Pam; mot here. 1
,nly have the fiat for six minutes
onger. That is, 1 only pro-promised
o stay here until ten" Her eyes wan
Tered half expectantIy, half wistfully
o the door.
The bird-man smiled.
wen see about that" he said. I'm
orry you don't remember me. If you
re indeed Miss Imogene Pamela
thornton, used to take you on my
nee often, many years ago."
Pamela could no longer be startled
V such announcements.
That's what Tomlinson said this
forming" she remarked. Ever since
asst night, everybody meet seems to
to know my real name. 1 don't IN
erstand it,"
please trust me-" said Mr.. NGilyuns,
and you'll soon understand lot more
nan that" He drew a slip from his
ocket. ''Now, do answer me careful
:. Tell me the addresses Of the first
)ur places you and Maggie lived in
fter your father died"
81 can't remember the first" said
am, but, after a seconds thought.
lttled off the names of three streets,
nd located addresses approximately
? describing nearby corners prorni-
INT to a child's mind for one reason I
: another. Those are the next ]
lree," she said. after that, we t
emit" :
But Mr. Nilyuns was satisfied. q
"That's enough for formalities, my g
ar. I'm convinced that you are the {
rson for whom the firm of Milyuns, L
-anch & Milyuns has been searching a
r years. Do you remember your
Asa Thornton?' Il
YES" said Pamela, vague wonder 7
d terror in her eyes; "but 1 didn't
ow he was real" q
Didn't know he was realr" ex- n
timed Mr.. Milyuns. "What do you :
sanT'
Maggie used to say" explained
mela, "Tf you're not good, your
Asa Thornton, win catch
:, ond no hasn't cut his finpo,. poiIS {.