The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1921-09-13
When 4 Girl
 MUryies
By ANN 4SLE-
CHAPTER CcCLII


 When I arrived at Meals apartment for the second time this morning I found Father Andrew waiting Tn the doorway. With amazing agility he rushed to the curb and Jumped into l the car the very moment that~l came 1 to a full stop. His mood commun- 1 icated itself to me, and I opened the throttle again and started off at once. After a moment Father Andrew spoke almost timidly. '"The telegram, Babsie girl must see that" he said.
 I pointed to the moire bag lying in | my lap, and then for several moments l busted myself with my driving. t1nai- I ly I ventured a glance at Father An | drew out of the corner of my eye. He had taken off his big felt hat,
 and the wind was ruling his me gray hair above forehead wrfnkled by | deep thought. His eyes wore pug
 zled look, and for minute he seem ed old and defeated. Then he gath | cred himself together and turned to
 me with a smile of deep love and un- derstanding that carried me back to | the first happy memories of my | strange childhood
 | Barbara Anne" he said suddenly, | cthere's a name that's always means I a heap to an old man. A Wlzeneo
 little girl. with big. unhappy, ques- | toning eyes named him quite some l years ago. He knew when that ht- l tie girl began calling him Father | Andrew that she was a-tellng nm | kinda established a big friendship be- | tween 'em at once. and it appears te | me that neither of 'em ain't ever fall-
 ed that friendship yet,
 | took one hand from the wheel ana l put it over Father Andrews.
 You're right about that love, 1 starved little girl" said. Shed q | knocked about from pillar to pest all
 of her poor shoddy days. She'd been | on the edges of shame and poverty
 and bitter disappointment, though sne | didn't know the names for them Ana | then you came. Big and strong ana | kind and sturdy. And she loved you
 right off, that little girl did-and al yet, and she hopes she'll never fail
 you"
 "What made you say that Barbara l Anne?" demanded Father Andrew
 huskily. Gan you tell me what made
 you say that right now-When neeu l to hear just them words?' | "Something deep in my heart made me say that. Because it's never been
 half so true as it is today. somehow
 feel that after all the years I've | needed you so and called on your love for all had need to take from it. now at last-it's my turn to give. And I'd be so proud to give. What | ever you want from me-or 'ii-i' ID | yours, dear"
 | deeper into the park. will you, g1ri,
 vou and me and the little wild thing l that gets taken caxe of just like you
 and me-if only we keep our hearts believing"
 | path I knew, and then Father An | drew went on gently: Il "Rabbsie, I'd like you to tell me all 1 you can recollect about your own
 My own dead father never seems
 half so much my father as you, re | piled wonderingly- don't peneve | I can add thing to what mother Ioi" | you long ago..
 ssMebbe not-mebbe eo- But an II old mans memory can do with mite of refreshing. And Wouidnt ah II you to remember those poor days De, II fore we three came together and hao l our little home in the sunshine = | wouldn't if could help it, BaDbs1e-
 me. It seems funny. Why do you do
 it, dear?" asked, and was surprised at the questions after they were out
 "Tn tell you." replied Father An,
 I show you the telegram. They kinda
 go together. How about your own :: father? You ain't forgot how ne
 came by his death, have your
 "Or course not, dear. It was that
 wreck in the hills.
 .s,There was dynamite found on the track afterward, wasn't there? ask cd Father Adrew in a tone that was more like a statement
 nYes. I remember hearing mother say that He'd been off at race meet with some friend or ms, l recall e'iiSN he'd written about making lot on
 the monies. can remeInber how mother cried and told me could have a warm new Winter coat and roast ! beef for dinner every evening". ssDo you remember the funeral dear?" asked Father Andrew My Martha told me her recollect1ons. Eut I must hear it from her daugh- s ter .too.' 5 sYes It was all so terrible and : vel so interesting to the child who . | never been so important in her life , as then. Reporters asking me ques- s tior1s An insurance man taking me
 to the room where the coffin lay
 and making me take hold of 3 l sleeve and asking if I'd ever seer y that suit before And mother run g hing in and crying that shed rather 8 lose the money and starve than have , her poor child forced to look or 8 that dreadful face"
 ''So the money he'd won at the y races was gone. I remember Mar = tha told me that. too,' said Father y Andrew. "One more question dear T You didn't look on that poor, marret r face. You didn't see-your father II , Then, can you be sure that the mar :. they buried-was your father? Car , you be sure?"
 Il Il I turned and faced two blazing a | compelling eyes looking at me ou
 | of an ashen mask.
 q ada. My fatherT' I numbled wit1 7, cold Ilps What do you mean?'' e Can you be sure that the ma1 Il they buried was your father. Anne 2 - he repeated inexorably.
 To be Continued.