The Washington times., 1922-12-05
CHAPTER X.
The ''VagabOnt."

The Fortune Hunter stood at
the open window. smoking and
watching her across the room.
"A penny for your thoughts"
he said. suddenly. As she did not
answer he moved across and took
the song from her hands. reading
the words on the open page aloud.
When you're jog. jog. joggin' along
the white road
With your luck all upside down,
Well. you don't much care If
/ you're on the right road,
When you're bound for nowhere
town.
I'm Just az happy in the byways.
my ways
Wherever may be
For there's no friend waiting along
the highway
For a vagabond like me.
He laughed. shrugged his shout
ders, and laid the music down
again on the piano. 1T might
have been written about me-" he
said unthinkingly. and went back
to the window and stood looking
into the garden with moody eyes.
What was he doing here when
the road was his place-the road
where. in spite of many hardships.
he had known much simple happi-
ness during his wanderings?
What are you thinking about.
John?" Anne asked. She was
watching him across the room
with troubled eyes. He turned alb
ruptly. not daring to trust him
self to look at her. II was think
ing that must get Tommy's bear
skim" he said.
He went upstairs to the attic.
where the moonlight was poking
inquisitive fingers among John
Smiths boxes. the words Of the
song ringing In his ears:
For there's no friend waiting
along the highway
For a vagabond like me-"
Would that be true Of him again
some day? he wondered. It al.
most seemed as II 1t lay with him
at this moment to choose, AZ he
stood there. hesitating to open tho
closed lid Of the box before him:
then, suddenly. he moved. stopped
and flung back the lid. and going
down on his knees on the wooden
floor. began slowly to take out the
contents.
Clothes, most of them new and
apparently unworn; a few books;
few photographs of towns and
wide stretches Of prairie. a num-
Der Of letters and q diary on loose
sheets Of paper.
The Fortune Hunter took It up
reluctantly; perhaps this held all
that he wanted to know Of the
dead mans life.
Why hesitate to read II when
so much was at stake? Why 1ib
at the last hurdle when the prize
was 90 great7
Almost uncensciously he found
himself turning the pages. reading
extracts Of the scrubbed writing:
To-day a letter from
Anne. II only women would not
be so fond Of hero worship; II only
they would take a man at the
worlds estimate Of him. :"
The Fortune Hunter read on.
page after page. forgetting that
1t must be getting late. and that
downstairs Ammo waited for him:
his face was stern and set in the
moonlight when he reached the
end Of that eloquent story. then
flung It down with . sort Of con.
tempt.
Lord! I thought was a
wrong 'un, but now. :"
For the diary had told MANY
things. and but little to the credit
Of the man who had died SO tray.
isally that September afternoon.
and the Fortune Hunter knew
now that It had not been love o.
loyalty that had brought hir,
back to England after 90 MANY
years, but because there had
seemed to John Smith to be no
way Of Riding himself of a
woman Of whom he had wearied
long enough ago.
Reading on and on. the Fortune
Hunter completely forgot the err.
rand which had brought him up.
stairs. until the mention of
Tommy's name In the diary re-
called the boy and the promised
bearslxin.
II lay In the top Of the boz
next the one which Tommy had
opened. . great furry robe, into
whose folds moro than one book
and packet Of papers had worked
IT. way.
The Fortune Hunter paused
only to give II a hasty shaking;
A