Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1925-07-22

in an old pocket-book, USING stub
by stump of lead-pencil. Then ne
folded the paper and returned 1t to
Fisk. After this he sat down and
wrote letter to Quebec, which he
mailed.
Shortly after the Tshemuak agent
strolled into the tiny village, idly
watched some repairs being made to
the little saw-mill, and went out on
the rough lumber road of which the
mail-carrier had complained. He
looked like man having lot OF
trouble to kill time.
He sat down on PROSTATE tree
trunk near the road and took Lori
mer's letters from his pockets.
"Told me to open anything that
comes for him." he justified himself.
eff he hadn't I'd have had to steam
'em open-so he's saved me just that
trouble"
Lorimer's direction to open the
letters was very natural. At Tshe-
muak there were not over three
chances In a year to send out let
tiers. It followed that if Curran read
the mail he might be able TO write
an answer, without making the cor
respondent wait, perhaps, a half
year.
The first letter was an affection
ate one from Lorimer's sister, advis--
ing him to return to England and
cease burying himself in the wilder
ness.
The second made Curran sit up
excitedly. 1t was from a firm of
London solicitors, advising Lorimer
of an interest he had In his uncle's
will, and stating that the exact
amount will be known after an In
ventory of certain securities had
been made. He was advised to re-
turn to England at once, as his
presence would greatly facilitate
matters.
Curran had heard all about that
uncle. When men are immured to-
gether for months and years in the
wilderness they are apt to exhaust
every possible subject of converse
ton. However, Lorimer had told all
he knew, while Curran had preferred
to hold back certain things. A man
is surely the master of his own Sc
crets.
Hence the chief agent knew all
about the death of rather eXtrav-
agant father, who had impoverished
his family, leaving married daugh-
ter and a son so ill-provided for
that he had been obliged to leave
the university.
The uncle had offered hi help I'M
der conditions that would have been
utterly distasteful to Lorimer. The
old man would have a place for the
nephew in the business house in
London-a dark and ancient building
about as old as the hills.
Lorimer had no TASTE for grubby
place that savored of dampness, for
walls covered with ancient account
books among which toiled shabby
looking clerks who wore green
shades over eyes grown weak for
need of sunlight.
Lorimer, during the recital, told
Curran how he hated dingy offices,
even though belonging to a rich
firm. The very air in them seemed
to be doled out parsimoniously. He
wanted to get out in the world where
the winds of heaven were uncon-
fined, where men did their work in
the open, and the sweat Of their
brows fell on good solid earth.
Hence he had drifted to Canada.
"That old cuss is dead" Curran
repeated to himself. "He's left some
thing to Lorimer. Ought to be
pretty good pile. Let's see. How
much did he say the old man was
worth ?"
He was trying to remember their
talk of a year or two ago. 1t was
surely a hundred thousand pounds.
He was sure it was pounds and not
dollars. 1t might be two or three
hundred. The whole thing sounded
as big as the Hudson Bay with
bit, of ocaap thrown in