Evening Star Newspaper, January 22, 1922, Page 62

THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, ‘D. ., JANUARY 22, 1922—_PART 1. HE SON THAT WAS DEAD— HE ox is dressedl and hung,” said Pliney Pickert with the air of a man an- nouncing that the country ' has been saved from destruction. “On! How mucl’'d be dress?” asked Ssattergood Baines, moving in his especially reinforced armchair until te creaked its protest. “Eight hunder and forty-three, ac- * @grding to Newt Patterson’s scales.” 114 “Which hain’t never been knowed to epr on the .side of overwelight,” sald Bcattergood dryly. “The boys has got the oven fixed for roastin’ him, and the band gits on e mornin’ train, failin’ accidents. d the dec’rations is up in the taown 'n’ now we kin git ready for a week of stiddy rain.” “They's wuss things than rain.” sald Scattergood, “though at the min- ait 1 don't call to mind what they “Deacon Pettybone’s north mowin’ is turned into a base ball grounds, and everybody in town is buyin’ bunt- 40’ to wrap thelr harnesses, and Ket- tleman's fetched in more'n five bush- els of peanuts, and every young man in taown’ll be sick with the stum- mick ache.’ “Feelin’ extry cheerful this mornin’, Rain't ye? Kind of more hopeful-like than I call to mind seein’ you fer some time.” Vever knowed no big celebration to come off like it was planned. or thout somebody gittin' a leg busted. or the big speaker fergittin’ what day 1c was or suthin’. Seems like the hull weight of this here falls right on to me.” “Responsibility,” said Scattergood. with a twinkle in his eye, “is a tur- rible thing to bear up under. But nothin' hain't happened yit, and folks is dependin’ on you, Pliny, to see't nothin’ mars the party.” “Itll rain on to the pe-rade, and the ball game’ll bust up in a fight. and pickpockets'll most likely git wind of sich a big gatherin’ and come swarmin’ in. Scattergood”—he low- ered his voice impressively—"it's ru- mored Mavin Newton’s a-comin’ back for this here old home wee “Th—>Mavin Newton. Um! and la'nched that rumor “Everybody's a-talkin’ it up. Folks ys he's sure to come, and then what in tunket'll we do? The sheriff's goin’ te be busy handlin’ the crowds and the traffic and sich, and he won't have no time fer extry miscreants, seems as though. Folks is a-comin’ from as fur's Denver, and we don't want ne town criminal brought to justice In the middle of it all. Though Mavin’s father'd be glad to see his son ketched, I calc’late.” “Hain’t interviewed Mattie Strong as ree-gards her feelin's, have ye?” “I wonder,” said Pliny, with intense interest, “if Mattie's ever heard from him. But she’s that close-mouthed.” “'Pain’'t & common failin’ here- abouts,” sald Scattergood. “How long siace Mavin run off?” “Zight year, come November.” “The night before him and Mattie was goin’ to be married?" “Uh-huh! Takin' with him that thers fund the Congo Church raised fer i new organ, and it's took them eigae year to raise it over ag'in.” * % k% ‘Who up « s ND in the meantime,” said Scat-| L - tergood, “I calc'late the tunes 0% of the old organ has riz about as pleasia’ to heaven as if 'twas new. Squsaks some, I'm told, tzs squeaks gits kind of filtered out, a=’ nothin’ but the true meanin’ of tae tunes ever gits up to Him.” Scat- tergood jerked a pudgy thumb sky- ward. “More'n two hundred dollars, it was —aad Mavin treasurer of the church. ©l4 Man Nawton he resigned as elder, as’ hain't never seét foot in church fram that day to this.” “Zain’ moved,” said Scattergood, by cantankerousness than “I"11 venture that there’ll be more’n £vs rundred old residents a-comin’ Pack,* said Pliny, “and’ where in tunket we're goin' to sleep ‘em all the committee don’t know.” “Um! G'bye Pliny.” said Scatter- goed suddenly. And Pliny, recogniz- ing the old hardware merchant's cus- tomary and inescapable dismissal, got up off the step and cut across diag- onally to the post office, where he could air his importance as a com- mitteaman before an assemblage as ready to discuss the events of the waoek as he was himseilf. It was a momentous occasion in the lite of Coldriver—a gathering of prodigals and wanderers under home roofs, a week set aside for the rcturn of sons and daughters and grandchil- dren of Coldriver who had vertured forth into the world to woo fortune and to seek adventure. Preparations hed been in the making for months, aad the village was resolved that its cellateral relatives to the remotest generation should be made aware that Coldriver was not deficient in the necessary “git up and git” to wear der~n its visitors to the last point of exhaustion. Pliny Pickett, chairman of numerous committees and mar: of the parade, predicted it*would over” the centennial in Philadelphia. The greased pig was to be greasier, thd barbecued ox was to be larger. the band was to be nosier, the mpeeches were to be longer and more tiresome, the firemen's races and the ball games, and the fat men’s race, and the {rog raes, and the grand ball, with fts quadrilles and Virginia reels, a “Hull's Victory” and “Lady Washing- - ton’s reel,”” and.its “Portland fancy'— ‘were all to be just a little superior to anything of the sort ever attempted in the state. Numerous septuagenarians ‘were resorting to St. Jacob’s oil and surreptitiously prancing in the barn to “soople” up their legs for the dance. It was to be one of those wholesome, generous, splendid out- pourings of neighborliness and good- feeling and wonderful simplicity and kindliness such as one can meet with ‘' mowhere but in the réemoter mountain cemmunities of old New England, ‘where customs do not grow stale and ‘mo {anovation mars. If any man would discover the deep meaning of the ‘word “welcome,” let him attend such & home-coming! Though Coldriver did not realize 18, the impetus toward the home- coming week had been given by Scat- tergdod Baines. 3 * kX X TTERGOOD went inside the store and leaned upon the counter, tak- ing no small pleasure in a mental in- ventory of his heterogeneous stock. _ He had completed one side and ar- rived at the rear, given over to stoves and garden tools, when a customer Seattergood turned. ', Mattl but I figger|p, o nothin' on his mind but plans|moment, to the accompaniment of a “Got three kinds—plain with claws and them patent ones that picks up tacks by electricity. T hold by them and kin recommend 'em high.” “I'll take one, then,” said Mattie. But after Scattergood wrapped it up and gave her change for her dollar bill, she remained, hesitating, uncer- tain, embarrassed. “Was they suthin' besides a tack hammer you wanted, Mattie?" Scatter- good asked gently. “I—no nothing.” Her courage had failed her, and she moved toward the door. “Mattie!™ She stopped. “Jest a minute,” said Scattergood. “Never walk off with suthin’ on your mind—apt to give ye mental cramps. ‘What was that there tack hammer an excuse for comin’ here fer?” “Is it true that he's coming back, like the talk’s goin’ around " “I calc’'late ye mean Mavin. Mavin Newton?"' she said faintly. “What if he did?" said Scattergoo “I don’t know—oh, I don’t know “Want he should come back? ‘He—If he shoutd come—' ‘Uh-huh,” said Scattergood. ‘alc’- late I kin appreciate your feelin's Treated you mighty bad, didn't he? “He treated himself worse,” said Mattle, with a little awakening of sharpness. “So he done—so he done! Um—| jeight year he's been gone, and )‘oul {was twenty when he went, wasn't ye? Twenty?" ! “Yes." “Hain't never had a fell She shook her head. “I'm an old maid, Mr. Baines.” “I've heard tell of older,” he said dryly. “Wisht you'd tell me why you let sich a scalawag up and ruin your life fer ye.” “He wasn't a scalawag—till then." “You hain’t thinkin' he was accused of suthin' he didn’t do?” “He told me he took the money. Hi came to see me before he ran awa: “Do tell!” This was news to Scat- tergood. Neither he nor any other was aware that Mavin Newton had seen or been seen by a soul after the commission of his crime. “He told me,” she repeated, “and he said gooy-bye—but he never told me why. That's what's been hurtin’ me and troublin’ me all these years. He didn’t tell me why he done it, and I hain’t ever been able to figger it out. “And you calc'late to"keep on waitin' fer him to come?” Until Tm dead—and after that, it's allowed. “I wisht there was suthin’ I could do to mend it all,” said Scattergood. “Nobody kin ever do anythin’ said. “But if he should venture back, cale’latin’ it had all blown over and been forgot! . His father'd see him put In prison—and I—T couldn't bear that, it seems as though— “There's a bad thing about bor- rowin’, trouble” said Scattergood. less it was to git married on. And instid of that, it busted up the wed- din’. I calc'late that matter wan't looked into sharp enough. And eight years has gone by. Lots of grass grows up to cover old paths in eight year.” A small boy was passing at the mo- ment, giving an imitation of a cow- boy pursuing Indians. Scattergood called to him. “Hey, bub! Scurry around and see if ye kin find Marvin Preston. Uh- huh! 'F ye see him, tell him I'm it 1 Mean | 1 ince?" m! Why he done it? curred to me.” “It never occurred to anybody. All they saw was that he took their or- gan money and robbed the church. But why did he do it? Folks don't do them things without reason, Mr. Baines.” “He wouldn’t tell you?" “I asked him, and I asked him to Never oc- “MARVIN NEWTON, 1 ARREST YE ‘No matter how hard you try, you|a-settin’ here on the plazza.” can't ever pay it back. Wait till he| The small boy dug his toes into the croak: nd then do your worryin."” dust and disappeared up the street. he's goin® G / ian sked [ *Tve got a feelin' to| Presently Marvin Preston appeared in A i him! I'd a-gonej.ome she said, and turned away, answer to the indirect summons. gladly, and folks could'a thought what \eapjjy. “I thought maybe yow'd| “How be ye, Marvin? Stock doin’ they liked! But he wouldn't tell, and know. That's why I came in, Mr. |well?” he. “"“"’_""d have me—and T hain't|pynes. “Fust class. See the critter they're lieard a word Erom himifrom that/day -bye, Mattie—g'-bye. Come ag'in|figgerin’ on barbecuin'? He's a lto this. But T've thousht and 6&-| . iey you feel that way—and you |sample” ygered and figgered and thought—and et to buy no tack hammer for an| “Um! Lived here quite a spell, can't see no reason at all.” rook it to run away with—fer ex- exquse.” e Scattergood slumped down in his penses,” said Scattergood. chair on the store’s piazza and began B pulling his round cheeks as if he had ERE_ wasn't anything to run|taken up with some new method of away from until after he took |massage. It was a sign of inward it. T know!. Whatever 'twas, it come | disturbance. Presently a hand stole on him suddin. The night before we|downward to the laces of his shoes— was together—and—and he dldn't|a gesture purely automatic—and in a hain’t you, Marvin—quite “Born here, Scattergood. “Know lots of folks, don" acquainted consld’able in town and the surroundin’ country?” “A feller 'u'd be apt to in fifty-five year.” “Call to mind the Megges that used Ilo live here?” “Place next to the Newton farm— recollect ‘em well.” * % ko “T IVED next to ol' man Newton, eh? Forgot that” Scattergood had lnol forgotten it, but quite the con- |trary. His interest in the Meggses was negligible. His purpose in men- tioning them was to approach the Newtons circuitously and by stealth, as he always approached affairs of importance to him. “Know ‘em well? Know ’em as well's you knowed the Newtons.” ot by no means. I've knowed ol' man Newton better'n most any- body, seems as though.” ‘Um! Le's see—had a son, didn't he?’ - ‘Run off with the organ money,” sald Marvin shortly. “Remember suthin® Quite a while back.” “Elght year. Allus recall the date on account of sellin’ a Holstein heifer to Avery Sutphin the mornin® follerin® —fer cash.” “Him that was dep’ty sheriff?” “That’s the feller.” “Um! Ever git a notion what young Mavin up and stole that money fer?" “Inborn cussedness, I calc'late.” “Allus seemed to me like ol' man Newton might-a made restitution of that there money,” sald Scattergood, tentatively. “H'm!” Marvin cleared his throat and glanced up the street. “Seein’s how it's you, I dunno but what I kin tell you suthin’ you hain't heard nor nobody else. Young Mavin sent that there money back to his father in a letter to be give to the church and the ol man burned i That's what he up and done. Two hundred good dollars went up in smoke! Said they was crimes that was beyond restitu- tion or forgiveness, and robbin’ the house of God was one of ‘em. “Um! Now, Marvin, I'd be mighty curious to learn if the ol' man got that information from God himself or if it come out of his own head. No matter, I calc'late. 'Twan’t credit with the church young Mavin was after when he sent back the money— and the Lord, he knows the money ie, if the organ fund never did find spell?” about him. t. “Guess Y1l take s walk down to Spackles’ and look over the steer. They tell’me he dressed clost to nine hundred. Hope they contrive to cook him through and through. Never see a barbecued critter yit that was done. Folks is beginnin’ to git here, Guess they won't be a spare bedroom in town that hain’t full up.” Scattergood pulled on his shoes, and, leaving his store to take care of itself, walked up the road, turned across the mowing which had been metamorphosed into an athletic fleld, trusted his weight to the temporary bridge across the brook, scrambled up the bank to the great oven where the steer was to bebaked, and whers the potato hole was ready to receive twenty bushels of potatoes and the arch was ready to recelve the sugar vat in which two thousand ears of corn were to be HE TOOK A SAVAGE PLEASURE IN THUS MAKING HIMSELF CONSPICUOUS, KNOWING WELL HOW HIS CONDUCT' WOULD BE DISCUSSED, for him and me. And he was that|sigh of relief, his broad feet were re- happy,-Mr. Baines! I wisht I could|leased from bondage and his liberty- make out what turned a good man|loving toes were wriggling with de- into a thief—all in a minute, as you|light. Any resident of Coldriver pass- might say. It's suthin’, Mr. Baines—|ing at that moment could have told suthin’ out of the ordinary, and al-|you Scattergood Baines was wrestling ways I got a feelin’ like I got a right|with some grave difficuit; to know.” t stands to reason,” sald he to|steamed. Pliny Pickett was in charge, “Yes,” said Scattergood, “seems u] himself, “that ever'body has a reason |with Ulysses Watts, sheriff, and Cor- though you had a right to know.” for ever'thing, except lumatics—and|oner Bogle as assistants. They had “Folks is passin’ it about that he's | lunatics think they got a reason. Now, |fired up already -and “were sitting comin’ home. Is there any truth into|Mavin, he wasn’t no lunatic. He|blissfully by in the blistering heat, it?” 5 wouldn’t have stole church money |bragging about the sortof meal they “T ealc'late it's jest talk,” said Scat-|and run off the night before his wed-|were going to purvey, and specu- tergood. “Nobody knows where he|din' jest to exercise his feet. They|lating on whether the imported band 18" hain't no reason, as I recall it, why|would play enough and how the ball *He1) some some time,” she ¢ald. he needed two hundred® dollars—un- Auolhér Scattergood Baines Story —By Clarence Budington Kelland over the folks who were expected to arrive from distant parts. “This here town team hain't what it was ten year ago,” said the sheriff. “In them days the boys knowed how! to play ball. ‘There was me'n Will Pratt and Pliny here, 'n' Avery Sut- phin, that was sheriff 'fore I was.” “What ever become of Avery?’ Pliny asked. “Went west. Heard suthin’ about him a spell back, but don't call to mind what it was. Wonder if he'll be comin’ back with the rest?” IN THE NAME OF THE LAW!™ “Dunno. the rumor comin’ “Hope not,” said the sheriff, assum- ing an ofticial look and feeling of the isuspender to which was affixed his ibadge of office. “Don’t want to hav Think there's anything in that Mav Newton's no arrestin’ to do durin’ old home week.” “Calc’late to take him in if he comes?” “Duty is duty.” said Sheriff Watts. ‘When it hain't a pleasure,” said Scattergood. “Recall what place Avery Sutphin went to?" “Seems like it was Oswego. Some- [’eres out west like that | “Wisht all the town "w'd quit traip- jsin' over herc,” said Pliny. “Never Isee sich curiosity. They needn't to tee sees him t ready fer eatin’ s ok % ok 1 he's took out final, LL that day visitors arrived in town. They drove in, came by train and by stage—and walked. There |was no house whose ready hos tality was not taxed to its capaci and the ladles in charge of the res- gers for more food and more help. Every house was dressed in flags and bunting. Even Deacon Pettybone, re- puted to be the “nearest” inhabitant of the village, flew one small cotton flag, reputed to have cost fifteen cents, from his front stoop. The bridge was so covered with red, white and blue as to quite lose its identity |as a bridge and to become one of the wonders of the world, to be talked about for a decade. As one looked up the street, a similarity of motion, almost machine-like, was apparent. It was an endless shaking of hands as old friend met old friend joyously. “Bet ye don't know who I be?" “I'd a-know'd you in Chiny. You're Mort Whittaker's wife—her that was Ida James. Hair hain’t so red as what it was.” “You've took on flesh some, but otherwise——. Member the time you took me to the dance at Tupper Falls?" “An we got mired crossin—" “An* Sam Kettleman come in a plug hat?" This conversation, or its counter- part, was repeated wherever resident and visitor met. Old days lived again. Ancient men became middle- sged and middle-aged women became girls. The past was brought to life a bit tediously, as when old Jethro Hammond, postmaster of Coldriver twenty years ago, made a speech seventy minutes. long, which con- sisted in naming and locating every Xouse that existed in his day and de- geribing with minute detail who lived in it and what part they played in the affairs of the community. the audience forgave him, because it knew what a good time he was hav- ing. Houses were invaded by perfect strangers who insisted in pointing out the rooms in which they were live ig dwellings thus blassed. The band arrived and met with|legging, universal satisfaction, though Lafe|seethed with the downfall of an elderthey are ultimately disgorged. Now, Atwell complained that he hadn't everjof the chureh—and -all because the!birds do not really like tree berries seen a snare drummer with whiskers. | old man had-imported two cases, each!and will not eat them when they can But their coats were red, with gor-|of a dozen bottles, of the Siwash In-;get other berr! eous frogs, and their trousers were|dian stomach bitters, fecommended to}is warm and open. The resuit is that sky blue, with gold stripes; and the|cure his dyspepsia. There had been a, drum major could whirl his baton in a | moment, said Banks, when the town helly berries can be eaten and sown. manner every boy in town would be|expected to see Newton shut up In imitating with the handle of the an-|the calaboose under the post office— cestral broom for months to come.|until the true contents of those cases 7Through 1t all Scattergood Baines sat|were revealed. on the piazza and beamed upon thel. world and rejoiced in the goodness|sent six telegrams to as many dif- thereof. Only one resident took no part in|ceived replies and sent one long mes- the holiday making, and that was ol man Newton, epicuous, knowing well how hig con- sames would come out. and naming duct would be discussed, and viewins' gelt, “Bu think they're goin’ to git a look at the critter while he's a-cookin. N Isirec! Nobody but this here commit- | C i still. taurant in Masonic Hall became fran- | tic.and sent out hysterical messen-| But | rul 1 teresting to him. Just as he lost no|later frequently forget where they born and in which they had been mar- | his boy disappeared, so he listened and | hasels every year. ried, and in telling the present pro- laughed when Martin Banks recalled prietors how fortunate they were to|to a group how old man Newton hadlare found almost everywhere. who had closed hisjthe state. It was an urgent message, house, drawn the blinds, and refused amounting to a command, for in to make himself visible while the|his own commonwealth Scattergood celebration lasted: He took a savage|Baines was able to command when pleasure in thus making himself con-|the need “Then what?” “I let on I needed money, and told him if he'd gimme two hundred dol- lars I'd destroy the evidence and let the old man go. He says he didn't kave the money, and I says he had the organ money. He didn't say nothin’ for a spell, and then he sars, kind of low and wonderin’, ‘Which 'd be “the worst—which ‘u'd be thc himself as a righteous mun suffering for the sins of another. In the darkness of the evening strect Mattie Strong accosted Scat- tergood, clinging to his arm tremu- lously. “Mr. frightedly, come?” ‘Wednesday afternoon the band was thrown into consternation and the town into a paroxysm of excitement and epeculation when Sheriff Watts as- cended the platform of the musicians and, placing a heavy hand on the shoulder of the snare drummer, said loudly, “Mavin Newton, I arrest ye in 2nd if It might a-happened, maybe it ,flh‘l happe Strong point her finger in the face of Scattergood Baines and to hear her ter one word, hame!” Nor aia any fail to see her take her place at | | to be a thief. I jest let him think about it, and didn’t say mothin’, be- cause I knowed how he looked up to ‘hu old man. “Hain't seen him—but he’s here. I vin - Newton. He's here the name of the law!” worst?” Then I says, ‘Worst what?” Not a soul in that breathless crowd |And he says for his father to be Scattered frowned. “See him?” was there who failed to see Mattie | ketched for a bootlegger or for him the side of the bearded drummer, with * x A% her fingers clutching his arm, and | qHRETTY soon, he says, I'd be a walk to the door of the jail under the Shisr. Peanse) X koninect TaapTata Postiomcs qwiththeprisoner. r'd have to run off and leave Mattic, Then the word was passed about o 1o 2 Coin: to marry tomorrer. that the hearing would take PIACe y oouid pay it back, but that wouldn't before Justice of the Peace Bender|gs'no good. But for father to be ar- that very evening. So great was the|rested, him an elder and all, woull public clamor that the justice agreed |y nitn " 1 couldn't bear for father 1o to hold court in the town hall instead | p, ghamea 'fore all the world or to of in his office, and it was rumored |pq tnought guilty of sich @ thing. that Johnnie Bones, Scattergood |pruss wuth a heap more'n I be, and he Baines' own lawyer, had been &b-|yop¢ pever do it ag'in’ Then he pointed special prosecutor, by the|agys if I'll give a letter to his old sovernoriofyche atate: man, and I says yes. He walked up Opinion ran against Scattergood. It} 4 Gown for maybe a quarter of an was free and outspoken.Townsfolk and | 3ot 98 WAF Y o O kin1 of visitors alike Telt that Scattergood had | onein it out. but I knowed what jdone ill in bringing the Young manpe'q do right along. At the end h: |to justice, especially at such a time.! ome gyer and says: “This here means He should have 1€t sleeping dogs lic.| Luinin' my life and breakin' Maitie's And when it heard that Sheriff Watts | oot (0 U0 e that's better's had carried a subpoena to Mavin New- | y,61gin’ father up to scorn and se ton's father, compelling his presence | i in jajl. 1t they was only son as a witness against his own Som.|guier wayv: His voice was st there arose a wind of disapprovaljke byt he was right pale, and his which quite swept Scattergood from|eyes was a-shinin’. I remember how the esteem of the community. they was a-shinin’. ‘I calc’late’ he * % % % says, ‘that I kin bear it fer father's PBUT the town came to the hearing. ;:"f:e _;h:"”"h;o::"l':t ':n’:‘:' ;‘:;:o«?-l- In the beginning it was a cut- 2 i 4 e rares o Cthe|Why T done this, if it's in a hundred and-dried affair. : - s Siinie wersiautabisled with dey (preLl o o Ll ome back:and aull you ! it !For a while he kept still again, and ciaion, ;rhen :‘th“nxe B:n:h! CI”;‘I, the then he went in the house and got mame of & witness, and the udience | 1,C"r,orcy ‘ana wrote a letter to 719 ened to attentlon. Even old mah|;iq mapn, and 1 promised to give 1t Newton, sitting with bowed head and: pi¢ "0 300 FROT R scowling brow, lifted his eyes to the| " - did 1 “, . face of the young lawyer. WhaLaothe Activs ey “Avery Sutphin,® said Johnniel “It just said somethin’ to the effect AN ) {that he was willin' to do what Bi | Bones, and the former sheriff, wear- ? : bat | ! done if his old man would give over ing such a haircut as Coldriver sel-| 090¢ 16 T8 €2 War Wowi S0 o d“’;‘ ol d".“h’“ :"’lcf;f"m’ ,ll":;‘; right, like he always done, and that and clothed in such clothing 1z it had | Coeq maybe Goa seen & differen - never seen there, was brought through |y, giea)in' on account of the reas the door by two strangers of official folks had for doin’ it. But :f Cud look. He seated himself in the wit-|4ignt make no difference, why, he'd ness chair. rather bear it than have it fall on bis he “You are Avery Sutphin, former - sherlff of this town?” °’€‘,A";:“'lhe"7‘, i = “T took the money and coms ~w “Where do you reside”” e an: “In the state penitentiary” said|"pg town hall was very still. T Avery, seeking to hide his face. stillness of it seemed to picrce [ kin feel nim. T knowed it the minute| “D° You know Mavin Newton™" hurt. Then it was broken by a cr he come.” e i e a hoarse cry, wrenched from the soul “Calc'late T've seen everybody here,| . When did you last see him? of a man. “My boy—my boy!” Ol “It was the night of June 12. eight|piger Newton was on his feer, to'- tering toward his son, and before his son he sank upon his knees and buried his hard, weathered old face upon Mavin's knees. Justice of the Peace Bender cleared his throat. and 1 hain't seen him.” “H here, jest the same. T'm a-lookin’ fer hira. Whatever name |he come under, or however he looks, |’ know him. I couldn't make no mistake about Mavin.” fattie, I hope 'tain't so—I hope ‘Where “In his father's barn.” 'What was he doing?" ‘Milkin'," said Avery “You went to see him? i you're mistook.” e “This here,” he said. “looks to me “I—T don’t know whether I hope so| .V 5 . |to be suthin’ the folks of this town. or not. I—oh, Mr. Baines, I'd rather| .10 8it some money out of hifa” line friends and neighbors of this nere “Did he owe you money?” How much money did you go to get? “Two hundred dollars.” Did you get it?" “Yes. “Do you know what money it was?”’ “Church organ money. He told me.” “Why did he give it to you?” “I made him.” “How?” “Lemme tell it my own way—it T got to tell it. He'd took my girl, and I never liked him. anyhow. There'd been rumors his 0ld man was boot- leggin'. Nothing to it, of course, and Mattie lowered her voice farther|l knowed that. And I needed some “Look at the band,” she said. |money. Bought a beef critter off'n 'eaia| Marvin Preston next day. So I went to Mavin and says I was goin’ to ar- rest his old man because I'd ketched then see If they hain't somebody there | Nim sellin’ liquor, and Mavin, he that takes holt of the fingers of his|be88ed me I shouldn't. I told him right hand, one after the other, and | the old man would git ten year, any- kind of twists 'em. Look sharp! Mavin, he allus done that when he was nervous—allts. I'd know him by {it anywheres.” Scattergood watched. Presently the “plece” ended, and the musicians laid down thelr instruments and eased back in their chairs. “Look!" said Mattie. i * k% % HE bearded snare drummer was performing a queer antic. It was las if his fingers were screwed into | nis hand and had become loosened | while he drummed. No, he was tight- father and son, ought to settle, instid of the law. Maybe it hain’t legzl, but I dunno who's to interfere. Folks, what ought to be done to this here boy that done a crime and sufferel the consequences of it jest t ve his father from another crime the old man never done a-tall " Neither Mavin nor his father heard. The old elder was muttering over and over, “My boy—that was dead and is alive again!” Scattergood arose silently and pointed to the door, and the crowl withdrew silently—withdrew to group about the entrance outside and to walt. They were patient. It was an hour before Elder Newton descended, his son on one side and Mattie Strong on the other. The band, with a vol- unter drummer, lifted its Joyous voice. And, looking up, the trio faced & banner pon which Scattergood had caused to be painted, “Welcome home, ow. Mavin Newton.” = 5 Coldriver had taken judiclal action What;did Mavinisayitoithaty; and thus volced its decision. “He jest bowed his head and kind (Copyright 1922, Hi & Bros. Al of leaned against the stall.” & x"‘m.br ”.:rp:_) be with him, a-comfortin’ him and |standin’ by him, no matter what he done.” ! Scattergood patted her arm. “I calclate,” he sald softly, “that God hain't never invented no institution | that beats the love of a good woman. {I'll 1look around, Mattie—I'll look ! around.” It was the next morning at the ball game when Mattie spoke to Scatter- ! good again. | “I've seen him.” she whispered, and | there was a note of happiness in her | voice and a look of renewed youth in her eyes. “He's here—like I said.” “Where?" “Nobody resembles him there,’ | Scattergood after a minute. “Wait till they stop playin’, and Curious Ways of Certain Trees about the burrows. The wheatears fed up on the down and so brought the seeds to the burrows, where they rooted in the soft ground and soon established a flourishing thicket. REES that have their own indl- vidual methods of reproduction are interesting. The way of the elm is one of the most remarkable, since the lelm actually makes hedges, and ih a ening them so they'wouldn't fall off.; V&Y accommodating way, too, espe- One finger after another he screwed | C121l¥ in England, where it is the cus- up, and then went over them again|tom to border trees and roads with to make certain they were secure. hedges. L kmowed he'd comer Mattie sata] The habit of the elm is to send out happily. its roots in every directior and then Monocle Disappears. “yHERB is the monacle of yester- year? Even the Englishman has dropped it. Eyeglasses and spec- «Um! This here's kind of untoward.|t0 Push up suckers from its spread-| acies have multiplied, but the mon- You keep your mouth shet, Mattle|\D8 Toots. When an elm seeds 1taelf it ocie has seen its day. |Strong. Don't you go near that fe).|is planted in a hedgerow in Kng The monocle nlaved its shining and becomes established there; it sends out its roots and pushes up suckers “But he's here—he's here!” on all :,:del of it, plul.( exc-nt! o:mt:o *So's L h e young suckers gef c;,.f&;, trouble!” sald Scattergood suc- |y (" e troaden down in the path or The rest of that day Scattergood ;“&g“p ::y the pl.olw or gnawed down busled himself in searching out old|D¥ Brazing animals. friends and neighbors of tha‘Newmnl. But they flourish on each side of Nothing seemed to interest him which | the €lm In the direction {n which the happened later than eight years be- |h¢d8e runs, and they kill out the other fore, but no event of that period was | trees in the hedge until at last possi- too slight or inconsequential to receive| PIY. the hedge is all elm. Then it the his attention and to be filed away hedge is not cut or only partly cut, Iin’ his 'shrewd old brain. He was the strongest puckers grow up and looking for the answer to a question, | PecOme trees themselves and carry and the answer was piled under the |07 the process. bbish of eight years of human ac-| Other trees, instead of deing killed hopeless quest to any but|by animals, get helped and planted. Squirrels carrying off haselnuts and burying them for private consumption part in cerwain elements of English society. It had quite a vogue and then its popularity waned. Toward the end of the first quarter of the nineteenth century the fad of wear- ing a monocle had become so popu- lar that a writer on a book on the care of the eyes and preservation of the vision inveighed against it. The name of that writer was Dr. Kitch- iner and in 1823 he published a book, the title of which was “Economy of the Eyes.” Among many references to the monocle he wrote: “A single glass, set in a smart ring, s often used by trinket-fanciers for fasgh- lon’s sake. These folks have not the least defect In their sight and are not aware of the mischievous conse- quences of such irritation.” It has been said that the English army authorities once issued an or- der that officers should not wear eyeglasses or spectacles, these being considered evidence of defective sight. A number of army officers then took to wearing the monocle, disobeying the army order by a safe margin and giving to themselves, as it was thought at the time, an air of distinction, the thought being something like that which prompted s0 many officers and enlisted men to carry a shert cane which came to be called a “swagger stick. 3 One of the interesting things writ- ten about the monoele is that the fashion of \'wln? it was introduced at the congress of Vienna—that con- uralist, Hudson, has told delightfully | gress which remade the map of Bu- ropa back in the last century. Sir e life story of some elders he mo- i 2 , Horace_ Rumbold has written t it ticed growing on a Wiltshire down. There was & gmall group of them set ;u a Dutch exqull'.llu. og:‘lon heer among some rabbit burrows, and a local farmer told how f{aey came there. First, the rabbits, finding that the hill had softer chalk at that spot, had made burrows. Then some wheat- ears came and mested in and Lved lsh. ler till I tell you. We don’t want a rumpus to spoil this here week. & tivities—a Scattergood. Comedy and tragedy were alike in- detall of the old man’s conduct when | have put them and so plant countle such as hollies, The fallen under the suspicion of boot-!berries are carried, half swallowed, and how the town had!by the birds in various directions, and Trees with berrie or when the weather in a mild winter comparatively few From the trées’ point of view there must be good and bad seasons 85 re- gards_the sowing or planting. But the tree which occasionally gets itself propogated in the most in- teresting way is the elder. A na Dyring the afternoon Scattergood ferent cities. Late that night he re- sage to an individual high in office in required. “Its an off chaace,” he sald to hlm- t4t's what might a-appened, % Vo B