The Dolores star., 1922-09-22

I ion a matter of-fact brain for Robert
| Fairchild, one sentence in that letter
had found an echo, had started pull
satinC something within him that he
never before had known:
1T is the blood of an adventurer'
| And it seemed that Robert Fair
child needed no more than the lnowl-
edge to feel the tingle Of 1t; the old
house suddenly became stuffy and
| prisonlike as he wandered through 1t.
| Again and again pounded through his
head the fact that only night of
travel interviewed between Indianapo-
| lis and st. Louis: within twelve hours
he could be in the office of Henry
| Beamish. And then
A hurried resolution. A hasty pack
| ing of a travelling bag and the cashing
of check at the cigar store down on
the corner. A wakeful night while
the train clattered along upon its
| journey. At last:
I'm Robert Falrchild." he said. ms
he faced white-haired, Cupld-faCed
man in the rather dlngy offices in the
Princess building. A slow smile
spread over the pudgy features of the
genialappearlng attorney, and he
waved fat hand toward the Offices
| extra chair.
"SIt down, Son." came casually.
Needn't have announced yourself.
I'd have known you-just like your IA
tber, Boy. How is he?" Then his
face suddenly sobered. "I'm afraid
right?"
Fairchlld nodded gravely. The old
attorney stared out of the window to
the grimy roof and sIgnboards of the
next building.
"Perhaps it's better So" he said at
last. did he get any cheerer be
fore-he went?"
mo. Afraid of every step on the
veranda, of every knock at the door"
Again the attorney stared out of
the window.
And you? Are you afrald?"
"Of what?"
The lawyer smiled.
81 don't know. Only" and he
leaned fOrward-'it'S just as though |
were living my younger days over
again this morning. 1t doesn't seem
any time at all since your father was
sitting just about where you are now,
and CAD, Boy, how much you look like
he looked that morning! The same
gray-blue eyes. the same dark hair.
the same strong shoulders and good,
manly chin, the same build-and look
of determination about him. The call
of adventure was in his blood, and
he sat there all enthusiastic, telling
me what he Intended doing and ask
ing my advice-although he wouldn't
have followed 1t If l had given IT.
Back home was baby and the woman
he loved, and out West was sudden
wealth, waiting for the right man to
come along and find 1t. Gad" White
haired old Beamish chuckled with the
memory of it. Then four years later"
the tone changed suddenly, "he came
back"
What them" FairchIld was on
the edge of his chair. But BeamIsh
only spread his hands.
"Truthfully, Boy, / don't know. 7
have guessed-but I won't tell Won
what. All | know Is that your father
found what he was looking for and
was on the point of achieving his ev-
cry dream, when something happened.
Then three men simply disappeared
from the mining camp, announcing
that they had failed and were going
to hunt new diggings. That was all.
One of them was your father"
But you said that he'd found"
Silver, running twenty ounces to
the ton on an eight-inch vein which
gave evidences of being only the he-
ginning of bonanza! I know. he
cause he had written me that, month
before"
And he abandoned it?"
He'd forgotten what he had writ
ten when l saw him again. | didn't
question him. He went home then
after giving me enough money to nav
the taxes on the mine for the neyt
twenty years, simply as his attorney
and without divulging his where
abouts. I did it. Eight years or so
later l saw him in indianapolis. He
gave me more money-enough for
eleven or twelve years"
"And that was ten years ago? Rob.
ert Fairchild's eyes were reminiscent
L remember was only kid. He
sold off everything he had, except the
house."
Henry Beamish walked to his safe
and fumbled there moment, TO re-.
turn at last with few slips Of paper.
Here's the answer" he said oui-
etly. the taxes are paid until 1890"
Robert Fairchild studied the re.
celpts carefully-futilely. They told
him nothing. The lawyer stood look.
ing down upon him; at last he laid n
hand on his shoulder.
Boy" came quickly, "I know lust
about what you're thinking. I've spent
rev hours at the same kind of lob
,nSseii. and I've called old Henry
Beamish more kinds of fool than
you can think Of fOr MT ,n,,t.