The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1926-12-17

lOm IelJ sure Itt WAS Tic CtChHdh
pinching and scraping that was infu
encing her to make her life easier in
the only way that offered. He would
give her all he had. 1t was enough
to keep her from worrying about her
immediate wants for some time and
save her from sacrificing her soul and
body to a loveless marriage. Perhaps
in the meantime the other chap might
wake up and realize what peach of
girl Margaret Is.
"What an idiot he must be-" Tom
uttered to himself mot to grab up a
girl like Margaret when he has the
chance"
Riotous thoughts ran through his
mind as the slow moving train adj
vanced toward the village. For the
time being his errand and not what its
outcome might be outweighed the
gloom of the impending doom that
hung over his own life. His thoughts
were on another's trouble rather than
his own. He wondered II perchance
she might already be married. People
did such things on Christmas Eve, and
1t was late fall when he last talked
with Margaret. With the thought
came Tightening about the muscles
Of his heart. 1t was the first warn
ing, Tom knew.
The train fairly crawled. 1t was an
hour late. Tom remembered it was
always an hour or SO late on Christ
mas Eve. 1t had been so every year,
he recalled. He was surprised that
he hadn't thought Of that before. In
the maze of his harassed brain he
hoped the deadly odor would not take
effect too soon. He had too much to
do first.
At last the train drew in at the sta
ton. There was no taxi. There never
were taxis at Smithsville; but other
years Margaret had met him. He
stepped out, almost expecting to see
her laughing a welcoming Merry
Christmas at him. He almost felt dis
appointed, and again that queer little
sensation about his heart, recalling to
him the Importance Of losing no time.
Without reason, from force of habit,
Tom went directly to the old house Of
Margaret's aunt. The house was in
total darkness but Tom gave the old
fashioned bell vigorous pull and its
ring seemed to solemnly re-echo on
the chill wintry air-not at all like a
Christmas chime came the unsolicited
thought to Tom. The house was dark,
it might be empty, but Tom was going
to be sure. Again and again he pulled
down the bell. Ages it seemed to Tom
before light appeared and big, burly,
Peter Kline, arrayed in night apparel,
threw wide open the door.
els some one sick or dying this night
that you raise such hullabaloo at
mans doorY'
He lowered the lamp and peered at
Tom:
$50 it's you? I'll be gol-darned.
You're white as sheet. What's ailin'
you? Come in! Come in!'
He fairly pushed Tom in, banging
the door behind them.
All the time Tom had been asking
for Margaret, but Peter apparently
heard nothing until they were in the
cozy living room where embers still
glowed in the old-fashioned fireplace.
SIS it Margaret you're seeking? Glad
enough I am that you've come to at
last. Married to me, did you say?
Certainly not. I married the Widow
Stone at Thanksgiving. I'm not the
sort of man that wants to marry a
girl who loves some one else. Marga-
ret lives over at Neighbor Lewis.
Some ones up" Peter unceremoni-
ously ushered Tom out into the night.
Tom never knew quite how he got
across the street to the Lewises', but
it was Margaret herself who opened
the door. Neither did he know how
it came about that Margaret was in
his arms.
It was later when they got their
breath and senses that Tom remem-
bered his real