The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1921-12-22
E0ening Storg
The Christmas Surprise.
BY A. W. PEACH.

ana longing Tor MS Ola new EnSa
home, had returned and taken the
position of stage driver from the river
station ten miles up thru the hills TO
the little mountain village of Harton.
In that period of time he had driven
many back and forth, but when the
one passenger from the afternoon
| train came to him across the station
platform he knew that he was looking
at the prettiest girl he had ever seen
and also the weariest dark eyes ever
| lifted to his. She was sight of fig
lure. clad warm enough for city streets
but hardly for his hills, and there was
a lonely air about her; that won the
old wanderers gray heart.
Drive you to the village? Sure
enough, Miss. You just hop in. an
let me tuck you in. You'll freeze in
them duds!" he said readily.
Thank you, but I won't mind the
cold" she replied, smiling in a way
| that showed the faint dimples in her
oval cheeks that were a bit pale in
spite of the winter keenness.
Some gal comm for Christmas eve,
I s'pose, but them eyes o. hers don't
don't look as Christmassy as they
might" old Ames thought to himself.
''Somethin' on her mind an heart, I
guess -a--
Soon they were on the stage road,
the pair of horses plodding steadily
along. She was silent. her dark eyes
straight ahead, her small pink nose
/ just showing over her neck fur. She
seemed so lonesome and worried that
the old driver tried to cheer her up
with Christmas chat, but he got moth
| ing but gentle and polite replies in re-
turn. He gossiped along, however.
and with his gossip the miles passed.
Every mile found him more in love
with her, and interested in the mys-
terry she seemed to be.
! AT Mill Corners she turned to him:
! st want StOn Al ROhart Sunni q
cottage, please.
/ He could remember no one of that
name in the village but 5thought it
might be some one who had come re-
Gently or since he had taken the stage
! drivers work. He was puzzled, Won
dering, too. if she had got off at the
wrong station.
Just where does he live Miss?" he
asked cautiously.
Her reply startled him. "Jes round
the corner-why-ther amt nobody
there-an' there amt been for five
years!" he exclaimed.
At that moment they turned the
wooded corner. Before them lay
cottage, dark, silent, with the heaped
snow of the hi1f- winter billed on the
| walk and the porch Dismal, hushei
| the cottage lay before them.
She gave a low frightened cry and
~seemed to shrink against him, as she
stared at the scene before her.
| 10 HlIftSelI IldL CnlS was
| to be her Christmas eve it was a dis
NAL one, he said hastily: ''They tell
me the Teller that was there left five
years ago, an he amt come back. He
| left everything jest as it was-jest
went! The Farnums up the road kinda
| look after it. They liked him"
Her hands wei pressed to her lips,
her thin gloves. feeble against the
cold catching his anxious eye. 1--WE
better drive to the village"
''No-no-I-there no train till
morning. know; but oh, if 1 could
look in-just look in" she whispered
His New England heart widened by
his western years, opened and taek
her in. He would help her alFfne
I'VE sure kin-we can go in. The
Farnums keep it clean. I'll build a
fire. There, there, little girl, We'll fix
it, he said soothingly.
He hitched his team, blanketed
them, drew a huge ring of keys froTa
his pocket, and tried them. He could
| sense her shivering fear beside hirIS
At last key turned the simple lock,
and they went in. He lighted the lamp
in the little living-room. and with
quick hands soon had a roaring fire
in the fireplace.
He. saw her going from place to
the gesture as she lifted something to
her lips. "She loved him, expected
to find him-and no one has ever
heard of him for five years! Wheu-
but this is bad An she's got to have
somethin' to eat I'll drive to the
village and bring some grub backp'
His scheme was a desperate one
the only one he could think of, but she
half-hearing seemingly agreed. He
was a bachelor, and the tinge of adj
venture fired him. He made the trip
to the village and back in record time.
When he returned, he found her COM
Portable in the coy room, her distress
gone, tho in her eyes there was a great
unhappiness. The oddly of the sit
uation made her forget a little as
they went about preparations for sup
per.
Suddenly. she seemed to see clearly.
81 have no right to be here. We bet
ter go to the village" she said in a
dead tone. You see-yes, you have
been so good, and want to talk
dreamer writer-and I thought I
had no use for such men. Five years
ago, we were visitors in the village,
and when I left I told hini to forget
me. He said he never woodland then
well, I got SO hungry for hint all
came with rush, and I thought I'd
come and surprise him-instead--
ooh, I mustn't cry. 1t was a foolish
plan, but I thought of Christmas. I de-
serve it. 1 told him not to write, but
and had some foolish hope Her
lips could not form the words Her
dark eyes filled with tears, and the
old mans heart ached with her pain.
He stood dumbly, once more at loss.
Steps sounded on the snow-laden
porch. 1.-The Farnums have come to
see who's broken in, I guess the old
man said.
The door opened; behind the tall
figure that stepped in followed the
sound of restless horses that had been
driven hard. Ames stared. The tall
figure bent and gathered the slight
girlish form in strong arms and kissed
her again and again, drowning her in
coherent murInur beneath them. Theft
stul holding her he turned brown, jo5r-
Gus eyes to Ames- and answered the
old mans unasked questions.
I'm Bob Sumner, I've kept an eye
on this little girl since she turned me
down five years ago. and when a
friend telegraphed me that she had