The Bozeman courier., 1927-03-25

beth at the Barbey house. Some one had
added that Miss Barley herself had been
present at the hFe and had taken them,
but this he doubted. Rich women dele
gated that sort Of activity to others.
How they had chartered about the piano
A concert grand, by their telling. Good
natured of her to let Alexis play on It. He
would have liked to hear that; hardly pos
sible, though, that he had really read and
played the Twentieth Prelude. Six years is
toe long for musical training to lie idle.
StilE-a son of Andreiev! Suppose the wOm-
an had the wit to appreciate the boys
talent-suppOse her enthusiasm should ex-
tend to taking him on as a prOtegee-as
once Andreiev had taken on little Louis
Denisher? But-a rich wOman's plaything.
And then how about Michael? He had be-
haved rather badly, according to report.
It had been Louis dream to keep the boys
together. He had never given up hope that
his arm would some day get back its
strength. Then they would begin the world
anew and the boys would have their chance.
He halted within view Of the Barley
windows, Opalescent and halOed through
the drift of flakes. Suppose, for the sake
of argument she should take them-bOth
/ of them, even though she should make
WOmanS silly mistakes with them, they
would be better off than in their depend
ence upon crippled pauper. But if this
were to be done, the appeal to her sympa-
| thy should be as strong as possible
should be dramatic. For example, if the
crippled pauper should be found to have
perished in the storm overnight, so that
| the children had no one in all the world
/ to look to but herself She could not
Couldn't she, though! Wasn't that just
the sort Of thing those women alwaye dele
gated to somebody that was paid for it 2
The voice Of one such to whom he had laid
bare his trouble in the early days of it
came back to him bleakly.
| But, really, Mr.. Denisher, I'm sure, un-
der the circumstances, it's quite the most
sensible thing you can do. The home is
| beautifully managed. The matrOn is love-
lly-"
Louis now had reached the shelter of
one Of the fat stone griffOns. No sound
came from the house; only the lights shOne
steadily out over the snow. He was so
very weary that 1t would be the easiest
thing il the world-suppOsing he should
decide on the wisdom Of ito lie down
where he was He wanted to! Already he
was drOwsy.
Suddenly a music note sounded strangely
overhead. Clear-solemn-as if a violin
bow were drawn across the string. 1t
dropped note. rose again.
"Andreiev," whispered Louis. Yet he
knew 1t was only one tree branch rubbing
against another. Only that, but why did
actly the beginning Of the Ave Maria, time
and pitch, all as it should be? Was il
only the rubbing Of tree branches?
He listened, staring upward for a long
time, but the sound was not repeated. II
it was Andreiev-what would his opinion bC
Of the crippled pauper lying down in the
snow? He did not feel so at peace Ovel
the scheme. at least he would think II
over a little longer. Do a bit Of prospect
ing through that window; see If it were
pOssible-that piano where little Alexis
had sat that afternoon and remembered
I his Inheritance; get a glimpse, If he could
i or the woman herself, see if the kindness
; of her face appeared te have an endurinl
quality or to be mere careless, evanes
cent sympathy which would send the boy
away when it had become a little Wearied
And If there were no crippled pauper t
: help, why then
2 He limped up the snow-silent steps, bu
Z there was too much frost on the window
e to see through the glass with any clear
= ness. Disappointed, he paused with hi
hand on the door, not meaning to enter
b only thinking it Over-but it was off tn
!, latch and swung inward. And the inne
g door Of the vestibule stood wide.
q The warmth and light and the resinOu
t perfume of the Christmas green's enfOlde
j hlm-dreW him on. An arm chair by tn
fireplace seemed Hospitality expectant. BE
e side it bubbling percOlatOr bubbled O.
a tabOurette; a tray upon a larger tabl
d held sandwiches and cakes. A box Of Gig
:. arets stood open.
He had no clear idea Of how he came t
e be sitting in that chair, a cup Of coffee
g one hand, cigaret in the other It ha
T happened as things do in dreams. Just
there he vast Not lying down in a snow
drift-or was he, and this one Of thOs
IS hallucinations which the dying have? Il
d gave a queer hOarse crOak OF laughter
II What was that, down by the andirOns-
st those small, squat objects lined up with a
d air of being quite at ease, almost Of owl
Iershtp! Shappy. plebeian, inexpressibly il
is appropriate to the magnifcence arOun
n them.
c. He leaned down and touched one unb,
he lievingly. Yes, it was real Michaers shoe
is Alexis shOes-cOme to port.
" Why, then-then-
He looked about the room. Yes. the
~ u-nnn hn--cl q