Sioux County pioneer., 1922-09-07

1ney turned Tor the mouth OF the
tunnel. sliding along in the greasy
muck, the torch extinguished now. A
moment Of watchfulness from the
cover Of the darkness, then Harry
pointed. On the opposite hill, the fig-
ure Of man had been outlined for
just second. Then he had faded.
And with the disappearance of the
watcher, Harry nudged his partner in
the ribs and went forth into the
brighter light. An hour more and
they were back in town. Harry
reached for his mustache again.
"Go on down to Mother 'Oward's,"
he commanded. "1've got to wander
around and say 'owdy to what's left
Of the fellows that was ERE when
was. It's been twenty years since I've
been away, you know" he added, "and
the shaft can wait"
Fairchild obeyed the instructions,
looking back over his shoulder as he
walked along toward the boarding
house, to see the big figure of his COM
panion lettering up the street, on the
beginning of his homecoming tour.
The blocks passed. Fairchild turned
through the gate Of Mother Howard's
boarding house and went to his room
to await the call for dinner. The
world did not look exceptionally
good to him; his brilliant dreams had
not counted upon the decay of more
than quarter Of century, the slow,
but sure dripping Of water which had
seeped through the hills and made
the mine one vast well, instead of. the
free open gateway to riches which he
had planned upon. An hour of thought
and Fairchild ceased trying to look
into the future, obeying, instead, the
insistent changing Of the dinner bell
from downstairs. Slowly he opened
the door of his room, trudged down
the staircase-then stopped in bewil-
derment. Harry stood before him, in
all the splendor that a miner can
know.
He had bought new suit, brilliant
blue, almost electric in it's flashiness,
nor had he been careful as to style.
The cut Of the trousers was somewhat
along the lines Of fifteen years be-
fore, with their peg tops and heavy
cuffs. Beneath the vest, glowing,
watermelon-pink shirt glared forth
from the protection Of purple tie.
A wonderful creation was on his head,
dented in four places, each separated
with almost mathematical precision.
Below the cuffs Of the trousers were
bright, tan, bump-toed shoes. Harry
was a complete picture of sartorial
elegance, according to his own dreams.
What was more, to complete it all,
upon the third finger of his right hand
was diamond, bulbous and yellow
and throwing off dull radiance like
the glow of burnt-out arc light; full
Of flaws, it is true, off color to great
degree, but diamond nevertheless.
And Harry evidently realized it.
Saint the cuckoo?" he doomed, as
Fairchild stared at him. "Ain't 1?
'ad to ave outfit. and
1T might as well be now!" he par
APPRAISED, to the tune of the age
whitened sextette from "F1oradora."
"And look at the sparkler! Look
at it,"
"But-but how did you do it?" came
gaspingly. II thought"
"Installments the Cornishman
burst out. "Ten per cent down and
the rest when they catch me. INSTALL
ments!" He jabbed forth heavy
finger and punched Fairchild in the
ribs. "Where's Mother 'Oward? Won't
I knock 'er eyes out?"
Fairchild laughed-he couldn't help
it-in spite of the fact that five hum
dred dollars might have gone long
way toward unwatering that shaft.
Harry was Harry-he had done enough
in crossing the seas to help him. And
already, in the eyes of Fairchild,
Harry was swiftly approaching that
place where he could do no wrong.
you're wonderful, Harry" came at
last. The Cornishman puffed with
pride.
"1'm a cuckoo!" he admitted.
"Where's Mother 'Oward? Where's
>,ueeA h