Grand Forks herald. [volume] (Grand Forks, N.D.) 1916-1955, 1922-08-26

you, boy. or ever laid a heavy hand on you.
You wasn't ever whipped. But that was
because you was a good boy. They went
TO New York. but came back when she was
took i'll. This was her house. He went
back to New York and left you with me.
He got vi and was in a hospital
Tor weeks. When he finally came back he
told me he was going to live here. But,
., how changed he was!"
Then he was different ~once?" eagerly.
He was something like you, Jerry, ener.
getic. But after he came back he didn't
seem to take any interest in anything but
money--money. He moved about, like he
wasn't sure, and spoke little. But now I
know 1t was his heart. If l was you, Jerry
boy. I'd go away from this mean town and
never come back. O., 1 know! They'll be
after you, trying to kiss your boots-them
as yanked their daughters inside the gates
when they saw you and wouldn't let their
boys play with you. Yes, sir; that's what
I'd do if I was you.'
The identical advice offered by the ad.
venturer, but that was all. The two inn
pulses were totally different.
Il am going to New York, Aunty, this
very night. I'll be gone several months. I
want you to keep the house for me. I'll
write you from time to time, but nobody
must know where l am. You see, that chan
last night was the beginning. The door is
going to be hammered loose by men and
women who'll have schemes-a thousand of
them-by which they hope to transfer some
of my shekels to other pockets. Tell them
I've gone ava and will not return under
six months"
Take care O. yourself. New York is a
dreadful city-and you like Red Riding.
hood.
That's pretty good, Aunty. But I'll fight
shy of wolves who pretend to be my grand.
mothers. I sha'nt go to New York with
any illusions about it. I'm not going in,
search of fortune; I have one. But I've got
to leave this town for awhile. So why not
to the big city, and get my education over
with? I have brains; I want to find out
how to use them"
kitchen to have a good cry. For this boy
was as her own. She had taught his
prayers. And now his innocence and all
this money might combine to destroy him.
When she came in to clear the table, she
found him still in his chair, figuring on the
back of an envelope.
Why, what's the matter?" he wanted
to know. observing the redness of her eyes.
Pm afraid"
He jumped up and put his arm around
her. Don't worry about me, Aunty. I'm
a country pumpkin. but not the kind New
Workers ever saw before. My middle name,
as the boys used to say at camp. lis Caution
instead Of Jerry: and nobody will know who
Jeremiah Collingswood is" F.
The moneyu never make you happy
Perhaps not. I didn't ask for it,; but
now I have 1t, I'll do the best L can with it.
III write once in awhile, and you can reply
inScaresof the attorneys, whose address I will
give you before / CO." I'd.
Then he kissed her cheek.
He stole away at shutdown and took the
six-thirty for New York. His only piece Of
luggage was a cane suitcase with a battered
lock. In order to keep the case from fall.
ing open he had had to bind 1t with a length.
Of clothes-line. He wore a suit of village
'store-clothes and a shocking derby hat. It
was all deliberately planned. Either his edu.
cation cas lumber, or 1t was his ready serv-
ant. 1T was to be a test Of his courage and
resource; a test of the readiness OF his
tongue to speech. Here on this train and
on thes streets OF the city he would not be
particularly noticed: but at the desk Of
& Aome famous hotel! II he passed this or.
deal, if he put through his little comedy,
\ New York would hold no terrors for hin
Once the train had reached Its maximum
speed. he began to examine the typewritten
sheets which ennmerated his worldly, pos.
LMA LAA AH