The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, April 23, 1905, Page 4

EL LP.A K DIX. rado sun restless lit- the steps court- n nd upon y brick or f it. The and al- morn- prisoner from the s browr hrust back butt of his his, for Hack- r the defense, the trial, was Hoosler, 6 “Here, T'll catch_you,” exclaimed the junior counsel, Blake, a somewhat lanky, powerfully built Westerner, ris- ing and depositing his rough brown sack coat beside Hardy's. “Gee! you've got musele,” he added, obing h! ands after the first pass. yelled the small boy, as a corker. Git on to them . Clarence!” he ctied in worship- ation. 'in'x mind a little of that exer- said the Judge, rising in- ‘) a pd hesitating on the steps. . A QUESTION ot INCOME by Belle Maniates. "THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL. C'Of’fz‘}?]}'z’m S LLRLED ONCE “Why not have a little game while we are waiting?” said Hardy, half jok- ingly." “Come on, Sheriff!" Moved by a common impulse, the little group brightened up, threw away | i e Susie Brad- breakfast aking but lit- hat eccupa- son of run- dow every wi 1 gh she took = ¥ r, a platter or 2 pile of } with her on each trip, wiping as sl nt, she was not keeping pace o was washing the tenth time ty cousin, Kath- s an event. The She had ing she would g for a long visit. for what, Suste?” to the handsome one of the men » was camping down tng season. It for the milk Mrs. Bradley vely and wears laughed, and walked out the woodshed@ and across stubtle to join his compan- Suste, however, had sound of distant wheels and sped quickly away. Milnes met them rid- ing in the democrat, Mr. Bradley and the luggage on the first seat, and perched proudly on the back de the most stunning looking girl that he had ever seen. Mr. Brad- tey reined up and presented Miines to his niece, Miss Randall, who ac- knowledged the introduction cordially. 1 they drove on, end Milnes, re- ng her tailored traveling coat the big bunch of violets fastened l the belt, the chic hat and cor- rect appointments of veil, gloves and : foreign-labeled steamer amused at his preconcep- of the “city cousin.” went on to the eamp racking his for a plausible errand to the house, but his wits, usually fer- refused to suggest. Finally he lved to go away and await an in- ion. Wheh he reachel the farm Miss Randall, charmingly caught the spirat house coming to visit ' d to match her eyes of sapphire, in the kitchen with her aunt. She vouchsafed the young man a gown was Mr. Miines, what can I do for asked Mrs. Bradley. “Why—er—oh, we want some more butter,” he said desperately. “What have you done with all that you got this morning?” she exclaimed. “Well, you see, it's Johnson’s turn to cook, and he uses so much butter!” Mrs. Bradley's eyes twinkled as she got a roll of butter while Susie gig- gled outright, and he could see that Miss Randall was amused, though she was quite ignoring his presence. Sud- denly it came to him in a flash that Susie had repeated his remarks. He turned to go and Mrs. Bradley said good nauredly: “Susie, go as far as the barn with Mr. Milnes and show him where to get some cider.” On the way out he asked Susie anx- iously if she had told what he safd. “Oh, yes!” she replied cheerfully. He groaned. “What did your cousin say?" “She said you didn't look like such a ca He winced and was silent for a mo- ment. Then he said suddenly: “Say, Susie, is her father’s name Wellman -Randall 2" “Yes; Uncle Wendell is her father. He is awfully rich.” Of course he was. of Wellman Randall, speculator. “1-am sorry,” seif. “Why?” asked Sugle, Uncle Wellman is lovely. “I know he is, but I wish he were poor.” Such a wish was beyond Susie’'s understanding and she thought he was joking, All day he loafed and smoked by himself and thought of the vision at the Bradleys. At twilight he insisted that the milk was sour and went up to the house for a fresh supply. By good fortune Miss Ran- dall was alone in the orchard. “Miss Randall " he said, coming up to her, “we are all prone at times to say utterly idle words that we don’t mean. I couldn't know that you were—"" “That I was what? ehe asked as he hesitated. “That you were the hundredth wo- man. Until I saw you I had no rea- son to suppose that you were not ene of the ninety-nine. I don't wonder you think me a cad, though!™ She blushed a little. “I, am afrald Susle is leaky,” Every one knew the successful he said, half to him- indignantly. said. Further conversation was pre- vented by Mr. Bradley’s appearance upon the scene. “Come, Kathlyn, if you want to go with me to see the committee, We must be starting.” “Yes, uncle. Good night, Mr. Mil- nes,” and she walked away, leaving Neil discomfited. The next day, Sunday, the men were away from camp fishing, save Neil, whose turn it was to cook din- ner. While in the tent he heard steps approaching, and then a fall. Going out, he saw Susie sprawled on the ground by the side of a pumpkin pie. Both were quite disturbed on the sur- face. “Oh. dear!” sobbed Susie, ‘“mother took such pains, and 1' walked so slow and careful all the way.” Milnes always had a tender sym- pathy with the woes of children. He picked Susie up in his arms and sat down in the hammock with her, kissed her gently and wiped away the rain of tears. “See here, dear,” he said, soothing- ly, “the pie is all right. We can smooth it down, and if we can’'t we'll call it pudding. You needn't tell any one at the house, and the fellows won't know the difference. They’'ll think it is the proper style for a pie. You stay and watch me get dinner and help eat it, and then we'll have a hoat ride.” Susie was quickly comforted, She was not used to being petted except by Cousin Kathlyn, and her heart went straight into Neil's service henceforth, “Cousin Kathlyn is going to stay here and teach the school; our teacher is ill and has gone away. Isn't that lovely?” “What in the world is she going. to do that for?” he asked in amazement. “I mustn't tell. Cousin Xathlyn told me it wasnt’ nice 0. repeat things.” ‘When Kathlyn went to Susie’s bed- side that night for a little visit with her cousin she casually mentioned Neil's'name. The child sat’ up in bed, ‘her eyes shining. “I love him!” she cried. “Why, Susie!” Thereupon Susie eon!!de% the fate of the pie and told how he had kissed and comforted her. The next morn- ing when Nell chanced to be strolling in the lane near the little schoolhouse he met Kathlyn. To his surprise she stopped and spoke to him, mllin; graciously. e “‘Susfe told me how md you were e ‘to her,” she said. | court, ® BRSSO KNS5 their tigar ends.and moved half apolo- getically .inta the sandy square. At the; Iett of the zhg se and adjoin- !n nu a»nn ne] of well s. where,a scratch bafl ga e w rbnally and Where horses t mered during One of th 'flna boys was dis- pétehed for a sl table bat and ball and ajeatcher's glave, ;nd by the time the sides were arranged he came racing baek with them, highly excited, fol lowed by’ several other small boys. No one had.the slightest idea of be- ing drawn into a game when he left the “Susie’s a darling!” he’ exclaimed, “and say, Miss Randall, if I can help Fou in th& school or any way——" She laughed. “Oh, I can mapage the school all right. I understand children.” “I shall come and see how you get on,” he declared. He' appeared in the schoolrcom the very next day and announced that he had come to “visit.” She was provoked, but. she could not turn ntm out. She had written some words on the black- board for the pupils tc use in sentences. She now pointed to the fifst one, “in- come.’ “Who can make a sentence and use that word correctly?” she asked. “Do call on that little fat boy for a sentence, or he'll wring his hand off,” whispered Neil. She gave the youngster the floor and ihe jumped to his feet in triumph, yeil- ng: “In come a rat!"™ That was too much for Neil's com- posure and he gave way to an infec- tious fit of laughter, in which teacher and scholars joined. *“You had better go now,” she said to the visitor, “If T'll promise not to come in again, may I come every afternoon and row Yyou and Susie home by the river way?" She consented to this arrangement, and thenceforth came halcyon days—to Neil and Susle, at least. November vanished and so did the hunters, save Neil, who lingered and, upon Mrs. Bradley's invitation, took up his quarters at the farmhouse. He was very happy exgept when he remem- bered how paltry his income would ap- pear in comparison with Miss Ran- dall’s millions. Susie used to watch him closely when he was in one of these reveries, and her warm little heart, en-, lightened by her affection for Neil, di- vined the cause. She reached a do- cigion. Her opportunity came that evening. She went to the barn to hold xllnae lantern for Neil while he got some cider. “I am going to tell you why Cousin Kathlyn =~ teaches school,” she said bluntly. *‘Oh, but you shouldn’t, Susie! Didn't she tell you not to?"’ “No; she didn't say not to tell that elpechmy Besides, every one knows but you. You know you whhed Uncle ‘Wellman was poor.” “Yes,” he said, his heart bet.tln; with hope. “He is now. He lost everything he had in a minute, and he sent Ci n Kathlyn here to stay while he went ‘West to make some more money, and she would teach so to help him.” “Susie, Susie, you are my. good an- gel!” he cried in dellight. * The light of love and hopé 8o trans- figured his countenance that Kathlyn turned pale When she saw him. When the Bradley tamfly m ynhlldoutelv gone to bed a ier hour than usual Neil !old ksthm a.ll that was in his heart. “Dear!” he sald reproachfully, “why d you tell me of your !l(htr’l Bhe looked at him “I was afraid you agining myaeu mischievously. °d think I was {m- clnv-r Bu'ld%.. it -houldn't be a “A rat!” he o flfum; : (Copyright, uu b;g' !éu Maniates.) steps; but the reaction had worked in- sidiously. The trial had been a par- ticularly exciting one, and those who had followed it were tired after the three days’ strain in the ill-ventilated courtroom. The sympathies of all had undoubtedly been with the prisoner, although the State had been vigorous in its prosecution and the Judge had conscientiously done his duty. Murder had been committed at Jamestown Creek a few months previously, though a change of venue had been obtalned to Fort Morton, the prisoner’s own town. Copperthwait had always beén a qujet, law-abiding ranchman. He was under *30 years of age, big, broad-shouldered and swarthy, diffi- dent jn manner and somewhat slow of speech, though he had been slowly and thoroughly angered in a quarrel over a bunch of cattle. Six or eight steers had been branded twice; one mark over the other, and the dispute arose over this. Duke, the victim of the shooting, had borme a bad reputation, and the village street was usually more or less uneasy +during his infrequent visits. He had killed his man, and had been known to boast of it several times in Flynn's saloon. After this last quarrel he had sworn to shoot Copperthwait on sight. The quarrel had occurred in the morning. “That afternoon Copperthwait had just left the Eagle Hotel, to mount his mustang tied to the hitching post in front, when Duke happéned to turn the cormer. “Heré comes Duke!"” a bystander ex- claimed. Copperthwait started and caught sight of his adversary. Duke stopped short and put-his hand Wehind him, and Copperthwait, -quick as a flash, fired once and.put a bullet be- tween Duke's eyes. He had offered no resistance to arrest, and now was in the rough little jail near by while the twelve good men and frue deliberated in the-hot back room unmder the tin roof of the courthouse. “I guess my hands are a little too soft to play,” sald the Judge good-na- turedly, fceling a quali as to the ap- propriateness of his joining actively in the sport; “but I'll be umpire if you want me." The two teams were quickly formed, the “Comanches” against the “Sioux.” The Sioux won the toss and. took the field, -and the Comanches were struck out in one, two, three order. - When'the sides changed, Hardy,-the prosecuting attorney, took the box and Blake, the Junior counsel for the ‘defense, caught him. After much urging the Judge had consented to. preside. over: first base, since Mr. Hackett had positively re- fused to play, and had been made um- pire bv general acclaim. As soon as his Honor found himself coatless and on the fleld he threw himself into the battle:with the greatest enthusiasm. There was many an evidence of “soft- ness” in the copdition of the players, and a noticeable tendency to let swift balls. go by rather than grapple them with fingers unused to the hard im- pact. Wild throws to bases were not infrequent, and in consequence there was much base stealing and hilarfous sarcasm from the players on both teams. The official relations of these men were, for the time, lost sight of; they were merely healthy, enthusiastic Americans, feeling the joy of tingling blood in their veins, the zest of friend- ly competition and of physical exer- cise. At the beginning of the fourth and concluding inning the Deputy Sherift had come up, with the prisoner, who ‘was not, handcuffed, and they became interested spectators. Copperthwait's nerve had been superb throughout the trial, and he seemed to take an intense interest in the game. Just after play had commenced Hardy knocked a hot grounder to “short,”” who flelded the hall swiftly to first base. - The baseman caught it, putting Hardy out, and then quietly remarked: “That settles me. Look at this thumb!” “See, here, old man,” Hardy panted, examining it, “it’s broken.” “Well, never mind; let somebody take my ‘place.- Here, some one—you, Mulligan. Come and take,the base. T'm out of it.” “Guess not,” said Mulligan, the deputy; “I ain’t played ball since—" “Go on with the-game!” cried a dozen others excitedly. -“Some one, any one take the base.” “Here, Copperthwait, play first base; we've only got to hold ’em down this inning, and we'll beat ‘em easy. There’s one out already.” Copperthwait lookea uncertainly at the deputy, then the Judge, .and quickly pulled off his coat and stepped to the base. His face showed clearly the prison palior, and this warm sun- light and fresh air seemed wonderfully sweet to his spirit. Taken syddenly away frem the aective, vigorous life of the ranch, for seven months ¢onflned in a dreary prisen, the world had seemed. gradually to recede from his life. This sudden contrast of green, open field, ringing with the hearty voices of his fellow-man, and the vision of the free, limitless prairie on all sides was a tragic one to the man. He glanced at the players about him, pausing in the game and thinking only of it. “Go ahead,” he said quietly; “IT'll play.” The Comanches failed to make a run during the rest of the inning, and when the Sioux came in they made two runs almost at once, tying the score, amid great enthusfasm. As Copperthwait came to the bat it was evident that the psychological moment of the: sport -had arrived. " Everything had been completely for- gotten save the game, and so intense w@s the interest that the appreach, ot the courthouse janitor was entirely unnoticed. He had come slowly down from- the steps and after a few mo- ments of bewildered surprise stdod leaning ‘against a tree near the catcher, watching the prisoner as he slowly moved his bat backward and forward over the plate. “One ball!” yelled Mr. Hackett, mopping his neck with his handker- chief. “Two balls!™ B “Strike on 5 “Three balls! 4 Crack!— The ball flew straight from the ;-: high above the right flelder’s head, Copperthwait was safe on second be- fore the ball was flelded in. The janitor began to grow very un- easy and edged slowly down the fleld toward the first baseman. The crowd yelled as Copperthwait, still panting, edged oft toward third. Hardy turned suddenly and tried to catch him nap- ping, but in his excitement he threw a little wild, the baseman missed it and Copperthwait reached third amid much uproar. The Sioux were all gathered now in a frantic crowd between third and home, yelling like their prototypes, and the Comanches were also noisy. “Go it, Copperthwait,” shouted his team mates; “get home and youw'll win the game! Steady, now! Look out, look out! Don't let them catch you!™ “Now, Hardy,” pleaded the Judge. “for heaven's sake, play ball! Don’t let him make this run!” “Steady, Hardy,” sald the catcher; “watch my signs.” The janitor had crept up close to first base. “Say, Judge,” he whispered to his Honor, who was now dancing like an Indian and watching every move of the pitcher and Copperthwait with devour- ing anxiety—“say, Judge, the jury has come in-and is ready with the ver- dict.” “Oh, to h—— with the jury!" snappe out the Judge. “Go on with the gam Hardy slammed in the ball straight over the plate, the baseman bunted. it for a sacrifice hit, and Copperthwait, who had crept nearly half-way, rushed in and &lid triumphantly to the piate on his stomach. “Safe!” yelled the umpire, and pan- demonium broke loose. “I guess safe’s the word, all right,” muttered the janitor to the deputy, who had instantly started for the pris- oner. “T had a wink from the foreman of the jury as he came in.” CECILIA’S CARE by Ethel Barrington. T is a trial to be a widow with an only son, but an only son plus six daughters represents martyrdom. A choice in matrimeny adds zest to courtship, but too great a surplus de- troys the market. Laurence Carlton, at college, laughed at his mother’s anxi- ety, but cheerglly offered to bring his chum home foffthe vacation and give the girls a chance. “It only needs one to set the ex- ample,” Mprs. Carlton explained to Cecilla, who 'admitted that Angela must be sacrificed in order that her sisters “get the habit.” But to her brother she wrote: “It is a crime to abuse friendship.” The proposed visit was now at hand. “Murfel and I must lay low; the full strength of our family girlhood is 80 overflowing,” said Cecilia, fasten- ing a loose-sleeved apron over her gown. “Now, little Mother General, you may attend to the dress parade, while I bring up the rear with the ra- tions.” After Mrs. Carlton and Angela had departed Cecilin descended to the kitchen. She selected her pans, and washed the chrrants, sliced the citron ready for chopping and sifted the flour, a mischievous rhyme tripping over her tongue. “Will vou walk into my parlor? said the spider to the fly—" The dcor gong rang sharply. Ce- cilia dusted her hand free from the flour, and went through the dining- room and the long hall to the door. There she encountered an athletic young man, bearing a dress-suit case, with an air of having arrived at his destination. “Mrs. Carlton at ~home?” he in- quired. “No. If you are a book agent, let me tell you books are not our erying need just at present.” ..nd the dlmple laughed in Cecilia’s cheek. “I'm not a necessity, and to such a household certainly no luxury, yet I am expected. Sounds like a riddle, doesn’t it? that he could not get here uptil to- morrow, but that I was expected.” “We_ understood you were coming together, ‘but you are none the less welcome,” she added graciousiy. X “But you—" Cecilia suddenly real- jzed her apron and the flour and her mother’s horror of the situation. “Oh, I am baking cake—I—I am the girl, you know—*" mu drew herself up, but the dimple effaced the dignity, and there an odd twitching about the _ young fellow's mouth. - “I am awfully IM. I thought you s Cariton telegraphed me’ might be one of the daughters, and— I'm only the valet—" “Gracious—" “So you see we can be friends after all. May I watch the*cake operation?” Cecilia sanctioned doubtfully. “You may sit in the dining-room—if you in- sist.” “I do—" Cecilia, after providing him with a paper, @isappeared through the swing- ing door into the kitchen. He sat alone for a few minutes, then gently swung the door open. “It's quite chilly in here,” he explained. Cecilia was beat- ing eggs, the sunlight tipped her hair with gold. He sank into a - chair. watching her. “Come, now, you kmnow about ‘idle hands.” You had better put me to work!” he insisted. She laughed, but entrusted him with the chopping-bowl, and be went to work spasmodically .upon the citron, Cecilia having first tied' an aprcn about his waist. ‘“You make an ideal chef,” she in- formed him, “if you only had a cap.” “I wouldn’t want to have your curls.” His tone was aggrieved. “When may we expect your mas- ter?” L “My master? Oh—oh, -yes—Ashton. He'll be along about supper time, I judge.” “Tell me about him and why does he have a valet; it's rather silly for a student.” - “Not at"all,” he.assured her airily. “It's very useful—sometimes!" “I've heard he is handsome, rich and a great catch!” The valet was manifestly embar- rassed for his master. “You shouldn’t believe all you hear. Now, I under- stand that Laurence—oh, yes, I call him so just fto myself—has sisters?” “Heaps. Five, and—one more,” ac- knowledged Cecilia, as she commenced mixing the cake. “What is ‘one more’ like?” he asked with interest. “The youngest, and (he worst,’ she confessed, splashing the eggs reck- lessly. The valet retreated to a safe distance. “It looks an awful mess. Is that the way ‘they make wedding cake?” “Wedding cake! * What has that to do with the subject?" “Nuthlnl-—lt Jjust came head. “Then put it o@t. Poor men cannot afford extravagance and wedding cake is a never ending expense. Mr. Ash- ton should hear you.” “I am following his example. I the saying into my Axnow he is going tp make desperate love to one of the daughters.” It maust have been hot, for her cheeks were red as she returned to the table. “He Is not scared by numbers?™ Cecllia tested the oven. she asked with discreetly lowered eyes. “No, because he concentrates. He will see only one.” Cecilia was silént. It was quite a trick, turning the mix- ture into the pan. She went to the dresser for a larger spoon. Her guest began digging at the cake. “Den't! You will spoil it,” she warned himn “Sometimes there is a prize in cake. How jolly if there is in this.” Cecilia smiled loftily. “They put them in for children.” “And for wedding cake. Now, let me hoist this particularly, wonderful dough into the oven.” “To be light is all T ask of it,"” said Cecilia, opening the oven fé&r him, “Light means illumination, .so .I hope your slice may show you a thing or two.” Before Cecilia could answer thé bell sounded. She closed the stove with a bang. A sleeping conscience awoke. They had all agreed that Angela was to have first chance! “You should have remained in the parlor,” she protested. “It would have been safer,” he ad- mitted. Then they both laughed. like two conspirators. The bell rang again. Still laughing they sped through the house, he to the magazines, she to ad- mit her mother and Angela. “Mr. Ashton has arrived, cake is in the oven.” “I am still hungry,” said Cecilia, eying the last portion of cake. The rest of the family had retired to dress for the theafer. Only Cecilia and Ashtori remained at the table. “Bat’it!” suggested Ashton, push- ing the dish temptingly toward her. “Consider the fate concealed in the last bit—" She hesitated. “Sharing it may break the pef- alty.” So, recklessly they took the cake between the.a and broke it. There fell, almost into Cecilia’s lap, a golden ring! “A prophecy!” cried Ashton. knew it was a wedding cake. Cecilia, all dimples and embarrass- ment, at length found voice: “I think the valet was owver- bold—" +-“It wAs to help his master—remem- ber, that's his business. He knows L am lonely and shall sgomr need—™" “A cook.” “Sometting more; a little girl to love and be loved. The Germans call her ‘hausfrau.’ " 4 and. 'the “p (Copyright, 1304, by Ethel