Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1921-09-22

ut was q terrible thing. know
Said Dale. "But 70 was the fortunes
OF war. The LIftIefOrds have endured
the fortunes of war 10 exactly the
same way. Come with me; LET'S go. I
need your help: ] ran do very little
without your help. Come John More
Iand!'
The hilIman replied slowly: 'weII.
I'll go with ye over thar But Ben
he'll hat TO make the fusf break M
a-bein' friends. cause I'm purity shore
I never will. As soon as ] git my
hat, Bul."
He went 10 the front porch Hnd
took from chalrpOsi his broad
trimmed headgear Then the TWO set
out.
TEey crossed an ox-wagon road, q
sweet-scented meadow. the river by
means OF the blown down sycamore,
another sweet-scented meadow and
another ox-wegon road. and entered
the cabin yard Of the LittlefOrd chief.
Here. too. many Old-fashIoned flowers
were In bloom; a cane tishingpOle.
slender and white, leaned against the
porch; it made Dale think OF
you wait out here" whispered
Dale, with a hand on his companions
arm. "T1l go 10 ana see II ] can per
suade LIttIefOrd to make the advance.
I'm pretty sure can"
lie started forward when a hound
rose from the stone step and growled
warnIngIy At that Dale halted and
sang out:
Hello. Benz
The front door swung open. creak-
ing on wooden hinges, and Babes a
Their. bareheaded and with a lamp I'm
his hand. appeared In the doorway
lie knew the voice that had summoned
him.
Come right in. Mr. Dale" he In
vited with the utmost cOrliaIity.
Come right Ini'
He scOlded the dog away. and Dale
entered the primitive home He was
shown into the best room. where he
dropped easily into rooIny old rock
or that was lined with an Unframed
Sheepskin. Ben G.!ttlefnrd put tie
lamp on a crude table. drew up an
N;her chair, and sat down facing his
:isitor.
81 hope ye amt Jest happened over
TO q minute or two on business" he
drawled; 81 hope we've come to sp,:.!
the night WI me, anyway"
hnw ts, 81 -
Dale began. looking at the hAlman
squarely. Il want you Littlefords to
| be on good terms with your neigh
bors, the MOrelands. John Is out
there at your gate now; he Is waiting
for you 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 twirled 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
"IIl AK John In" he finally de-
cided. but he'll hat 10 make the fust
break at a-bein' friends. Me akin
him into my house Is a purity burned
good start toward friendship. amt
| itr'
He arose. took up the lamp, walked
10 the front door and opened II. and
called into the night:
Wont ye come in. JOhn?'
Il reckon ! will. Ben," was the lazy
answer. "Fo' minute. anyhow. But
| reckon ! CANT stay long"
Moreland followed Littleford into
the best room. LIttieford 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 III
at ease. Surely. thought Moreiand. he
had done a great deal when he had
come into his old enemy's house
Surely. thought LittlefOrd, he had
done great deal when he had asked
John Moreland inte-hls home.
Came silence that was heavy