Democratic watchman. (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1855-1940, February 18, 1921, Image 2

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    (Continued from last week).
SYNOPSIS.
CHAPTER lL—Lonely and almost friend-
less, Tonnibel Devon, living on a canal
boat, child of a brutal father and a worn-
out, discouraged mother, wanders into a
Salvation army hall at Ithaca, N. Y.
There she meets a young Salvation army
captain, Philip MacCauley.
CHAPTER IL~—Uriah Devon, Tony’s fa-
ther, returns to the boat from a pro-
tracted ‘‘spree,”” and announces he has
arranged for Tony to marry a worthless
companion of his, Reginald Brown. Mrs.
Devon objects, and Uriah beats her. She
intimates there is a secret connected
with Tonnibel.
CHAPTER III.—In clothes that Uriah
has brought Tony finds a baby’s picture
with a notification of a reward for its
return to a Doctor Pendlehaven. She
goes to return the picture,
CHAPTER IV.—With the Pendlehavens,
a family of wealth, live Mrs, Curtis, a
cousin, her son and daughter, Katherine
Curtis and Reginald Brown. Katherine is
deeply in love with Philip MacCauley.
CHAPTER V.—Tonnibel returns the
picture to Doctor John, and learns it be-
longs to his brother, Dr. Paul Pendle-
haven. It is a portrait of Doctor Paul's
child, who had been stolen in her infancy,
and her loss has wrecked Doctor Paul's
life. Doctor John goes with Tony to the
canal boat and ministers to Mrs. Devon
while she is unconscious.
CHAPTER VI.—Returning to conscious-
ness, Mrs. Devon is informed by Tony
of her visitor. She is deeply agitated,
makes Tony swear she will never tell of
Devon's brutality, and disappears,
The girl's dark head drooped, and
the shower of curls almost covered
Gussie to her short hind legs. Tears
dropped silently.
Philip touched her gently. “Where's
Your mother?” he questioned.
She lifted her head and looked at
him through her tears. She wanted
to confide in some one—yes, she did
want to tell him, but the oath she'd
taken on the gentle Christ flashed into
her mind.
“She ain’t home just at present,”
she replied in a low voice,
Oh ,how she wanted to ask him if
he knew of any work she could do!
As if he had read her thoughts, he
asked abruptly, “Can I do anything
for you? I brought you this.”
She nade a slight movement with
her head but acecpted the card he ex-
tended.
Then there drifted over the quiet
summer day the tolling of the chimes
from the university clock on the
campus of Cornell. She bent forward
to listen. It struck one, and drawing
her feet from the water, she got up.
She had promised to be at Pendleha-
ven place at two o’clock.
“I got to go now,” she said apolo-
getically. “Much obliged for bringing
me some more salvation, mister!
Mebbe I'll see you again some time.
Mebbe I will.”
“When?” demanded Philip, the blood
running swiftly to his face. He felt
a sudden renewed interest in the sol-
emn girl, and he didn’t want her to
leave him at all.
“I dunno,” she answered, putting
Gussie under one arm. “I mightn’t be
home when you come.” :
“Can I come tomorrow?’ the boy
urged.
“Yep, you can come,” said Tonnibel,
with filling throat, “but if there's any
one around, don’t stop.”
This was all the warning she dared
give him. Then she paused long
enough to see him jump into the canoe,
and for a few minutes she stood
watching the craft as it danced away
on the water toward Ithaca. Then she
started for the doctor's.
CHAPTER VII.
Tony Finds a New Home,
Many a person turned in the Street
and looked at the bareheaded and bare-
footed girl as she made her way
through the city with a little pig snug-
£led in her arms. Tonnibel was hurry-
ing to Pendlehaven place, for she had
promised Doctor John she'd come to
his office at two o'clock that after-
noon, and, if she didn’t, he might take
it into his head to visit the Dirty
Mary.
When John Pendlehaven came in
and saw her he noted how pale she
was.
“Your mother,” he began—
“She’s gone away visitin’,” gasped
Tony. “I don’t know where she is.”
“Didn't you see her this morning?
If she was able to get up, then she's
better. Isn't she? Is she?’
Tonnibel bobbed her head.
“I guess so,” she mumbled. “When
I woke up, she wag gone. I guess she
went to find—" She hesitated, then
ran on, “to see some one we know. So
me and Gussie come to tell you she's
ketter.”
“Sit down,” urged the doctor.
Again the curly head shook nega-
tively. ;
“I got to go,” she told him, swallow-
ing hard. “I just got to go.”
Then as her homelessness pressed
down upon her, she began to tremble,
convulsive sobs shaking her from head
wo
» Shelferin
A New Romance of the Storm Country}
of the
Pines
by GRACE
MILLER
: WHITE
IIHT 5 Cn HEN
to foot. The doctor forced her into a
chair.
“There,” he said Sympathetically.
“Now tell me what has happened.”
“I can’t.” came in a gasping sigh.
“Ft mummy's gone away, mebbe for-
ever, and I got to find work. And—
aud I don’t know how.”
Doctor Pendlehaven looked at her
thoughtfully. All through the night
the wan face had haunted him.
Suddenly Tonnibel put her hand in-
to her blouse. :
“I brought back what's left of the
money,” she said, holding it out.
“Mummy took some. You don’t care
about that, do you? She needed it aw-
ful, mummy did! But I couldn’t keep
this because I dickered with you last
night about the picture, and you done
your share.”
“Keep it,” exclaimed Doctor John,
huskily.
“No,” said Tonnibel. “I couldn't
ever sleep a wink if I did.” And ste
thrust the roll of bills into his hand.
giving a long sigh as if she were glad
to be rid of it.
It might have been this action on
her part that brought to quick fruition
the resolve that had begun {o live the
night before when Doctor Pendleha-
ven had tramped along the boulevard
to Ithaca. From what she had told
him now, she had been left alone. Then
there was no one to ask permission of
to help her.
“Where's your father?”
abruptly.
“I dunno,” answered Tonnibel, a lit-
tle sulkily. She didn’t intend ever to
speak of Uriah to anyone.
“Then you are all alone, now that
your mother’s gone? Do I understand
he said,
' you haven't any relatives?”
“Not anybody,” she hesitated, “at
least, not now. Not anybody but Gus-
sie-Piglet here.”
She touched the little animal with
exquisite tenderness. Doctor Pendle-
haven leaned over and, placing one
finger under the girl’s chin, raised her
face to his. “Come with me,” he said
softly.
Tonnibel followed him through what
seemed to her long miles of halls.
When he ushered her into a room and
closed the door, she stood a moment
taking in all its magnificence. The at-
mosphere was laden with a heavy per-
fume of flowers, and then she saw
something else. A man lay partly
propped up in bed, his burning gray
eyes staring at her.
“This is my brother, Paul Pendle-
haven, my child,” said Doctor John.
“He wants to thank you for bringing
back the picture.”
“Sit down a while,” murmured Doc-
tor Paul.
She squatted unceremoniously upon
the bed beside the pig.
“Our little friend here is in trou-
ble,” said Doctor John to his brother,
“and wants work. I'll come back after
three.” Then he went out.
For a long time Paul Pendlehaven
looked at Tony, and Tony looked back
at him. Tony was mentally pitying
him with all her loving heart. He was
thinking over the conversation he and
his brother had had about this strange
little girl who had brought from a
thief’s den the picture of his baby.
“How would you like to stay here a
while with me?” he asked at length.
Gray eyes widened to the fullest ex-
tent of fringed lids.
“Lordy,” was all Tonnibel could say,
as she glanced around.
“You might wait on me,” explained
the docty, “and keep me company. 1
do get lonely sometimes. Would you
like that? I know you like flowers.”
“I love em,” cried Tonnibel.
Pendlehaven smiled into the shining
eves. He felt better already.
“I've such a lot of them all over this
wing,” he went on. “You might take
care of them for me and—and other
things.”
Tony was almost bursting with joy.
She had within her the greatest gift
of God, supreme gratitude. To work
for him would be bliss indeed. She
didn’t want to cry, so to keep from it,
she bit down on her red underlip. He
had said in positive tones that he
wanted her. It did seem good to be
wanted somewhere. What she did then
Pendlehaven remembered many a long
day. She bent over and kissed his
hand. The warm red lips thrilled him
as vibrant youth always thrills weak-
ness.
“Can Gussie stay, too?” she pleaded
presently. “She'd be without anybody
if she didn’t have me.”
“Yes,” said Pendlehaven, as his
brother opened the door. “You can
make her a nice home in my conserva-
tory.”
It took but a moment for the sick
man to explain to Doctor John his ar-
rangements with Tonnibel, and the
girl’s heart was not the only rejoicing
one among the trio.
When Katherine Curtis came home
late that afternoon she found her
mother in a towering rage, surround-
ed by many strange looking boxes an
bundles. :
“For heaven's sake, what's the mat-
ter?” asked the girl.
“l think your Cousin John's gone
mad,” said Mrs. Curtis, beginning to
cry. “He's brought a ragged girl into
the house to stay, a girl with bare feet,
and enough hair for three peorie.
From what I could gather she's going
to stay over with Paul. And John in-
sisted on my going with him to buy
these. Think of a poor nobody dressed
up like a horse.”
Katherine looked at her keenly, “I
Suppose you served Cousin John a
deep-seated spell of hysterics, didn’t
you. when he popped the girl in on
you?” she demanded.
“I did my best,” admitted Mrs. Cur-
tis, sniffling.
“Men get surfeited to women’s tears,
mamma darling,” said the all-wise
Katherine. “If I wanted to make any
impression on him, I'd leave off howl-
ing every minute or two. And you
don’t look pretty when your nose is
red. Who is the gutter rat?’
“I'm sure T don’t know. She's got a
queer name, and I asked her ahout
herself, and she looked as sulky as
could he.”
“Leave it to me—" began Katherine,
Just then the door swung open. and
there appeared before Katherine Cur-
tis a girl who made her breath almost
stop with surprise. Agvery young
girl. too, the gazer caught at a glance.
Abundant curls hung about one of the
most beautiful faces Katherine had
ever seen. Her mother hadn't told
her the girl was so pretty. She felt
a nervousness come over her when she
thought of Philip MacCauley.
In silence Tonnibel donned her new
clothes, and when she stood up to he
inspected, Mrs, Curtis scowled at her,
“Go show Doctor John.” she said.
“He told me to send you right down to
him.”
Tonnibel was glad to escape. Kath-
erine hadn't said a word to her, but
both girls had eyxid each other ap-
praisingly, and Katherine suddeniy
came to a resolution, which she mage
known to her mother the moment they
were alone.
“She can’t stay in this house,” she
said between her teeth.
Mrs. Curtis laughed sarcastically.
“See what you can do with your
cousin, then,” she snapped. “I did my
best with John, and he positively re-
fused to let me go to Paul! As much
as told me it was none of my busi-
ness.”
“I won’t ery when 1 talk to him,”
said the girl. “I'll speak my mind
outright. I'll make the house too hot
to hold her. I think I know how to
put one over on our philanthropic
cousins.”
When Tonnibel came into the office
that evening to ask a very important
question of Doctor Pendlehaven, he
said to her:
“My dear, I want you always to re-
member what I am going to tell you
now. This house belongs to Toy
brother and me. I do not wish you !
to take orders from anyone but us.”
Tony gazed at him a moment, not
understanding at first. Then her lips
widened.
“That means if anyone says I've got
to hike back to the canal boat, I don't
£0 unless one of you tells me to,” she
demanded. “Is that it?”
The doctor laughed.
“Yes, that’s it,” said he. “Now what
did you want of me?”
“Can 1 go down the lake tomorrow
afternoon--" she hesitated and then
went on, “lI want to see if anyone's!
home.” |
“Certainly, dear child, you can,” |
was the answer. “But get back before
I's dark; I don’t want anything to
happen to my little Tony Girl.”
CHAPTER VIII.
The Fight.
Little by little Paul Pendlehaven
taught her, and little by little Tony's
salvation boy preached his lessons of
Universal Love to her; and the eager
young mind drank in the knowledge as
a thirsty plant takes in water.
There were no signs of Uriah and
Edith returning, and Tonnibel grew
daily more hopeless when she thought
of her mother. Perhaps she would
never see her again. She had strenu-
ously refused 9 speak of her people
to Paul Pendlehaven.
Doctor John noticed as the days
passed how much better his brother
was looking, and no wonder hig own
heart warmed hourly te the curly-
headed waif who had come among
them so mysteriously.
Unknown to either of the doctors,
Mrs. Curtis and her daughter had been
able to keep Tony Devon from meet-
ing Philip MacCauley in the house. At
first John Pendlehaven had insisted
that Tony attend the family table, but
both Paul and the girl decided that
her meals should be served in the sick
room. Perhaps if Phiilp MacCauley
hadn't been interested in a certain lit-
tle girl on a canal boat, his curiosity
would have taken him to Paul's apart-
ments to make the acquaintapce of |
the little companion John Pendlehaven
had casually spoken’ of,
“She’s a wonder, Phil,” he said one
evening. “For the first time I've hopes
of Paul's recovery.”
“Good!” replied Philip, and immedi-
ately fell into a revery.
* * * ® * * »
Tonnibel had reached the canal boat '
and had changed to her old clothes
when suddenly she heard footsteps on
the path beside the Hoghole. Her
heart almost leapt out of her mouth.
Perhaps her mother was coming home,
perhaps her father. Tremblingly she
peeped out through thé aperture. She
drew ‘back instantly. Reginald Brown
’
was approaching the canal boat. She
heard him cross the deck, and then the
footsteps ceased. She hoped with all .
her might and main that he wouldn't |
think of coming downstairs, !
But that was exactly what he did
an. She crouched up against the
vunk, as the boy stepped into the cab-
‘Dn. When he saw her a slow grin
spread over his thin face.
“So you're here,” he got out thick
iy. “Where have you been? I've vis-
fred this place three times in that
many weeks. Where have you been,
I say?”
“Go away,” she said, half frightened
to death. “You'd better get out of here
tefore my mother comes back. She'll
beat you with the broom!”
“I'm not afraid of your father or
wother,” he said tauntingly. “I know
where they are.”
The words sent Tonnibel forward a
step.
“Honest?” she gasped. “Is it honest
what you say?”
“Certainly,” replied the young man,
“and they told me to come here and
get you.”
“Where are they?’ She had come
very near him now, her eyes gazing at
him wistfully. “Please tell me where
my muminy is!”
“Never mind just now,” said he. his
eyes taking in her slight young figure
passionately. “Here, I want to kiss
you.”
tine broke out abruptly. *“i won't stay
if he don’t.”
“I guess he'll go if I tell ‘im to.” said
ne. “Just hop into your boat. kid.
before 1 fill you up to your teeth with
fittle bits of hot lead.”
Tonnibel had witnessed scenes iike
this before. She knew but a tiny pres-
sure of her father’s finger on the gun
he held would kill her sweetheart.
“Go along,” she managed to get out
between her chattering teeth. “ITH be
worse for both of us if you don't!”
Devon was forcing Philip backward
toward the end of the dock, and by
this time Reginald had crawled to the
shore and had lain down upon it.
“Don’t lag, mister,” cried Tony to
PLilip. “Go along to Ithaca.”
MacCauley stepped into his canoe,
and Devon sullenly unfastened the
rope and threw it into the bow of the
craft.
“Don’t come back here if you don't
want a taste of this,” he snapped,
touch’ng his gun. “Get out and stay
He dragged her forward until her
slender, quivering body was pressed
against his. He had said he intended
to kiss her. All the rebellion of a
primitive uneducited nature sprang
into life within Tony Devon. The
curly head darted upward for a mo-
ment, and the gray eyes blazod into
the muddy blue ones, leering down
upon her. Then. knowing no other
way to protect herself from desecra-
tion, she set her sharp white teeth
into Reggie's hand, sinking them
deep beneath his skin. A cry of hurt
rage escaped his lips, and he flung
her from him.
“You little vixen,” he got out, shak-
ing his hand in panic. “You little
wicked brat! There! Ncw I'll teach
you to bite me again.”
|
He sprang at her, and Tony
screamed twice with all her lung
power. Then something happened!
Someone grasped hold of the man
who had snatched her into his arms,
and for what seemed an interminable
time two forms struggled together in
the small cabin. For a few seconds
Tony didn’t realize who Reggie's as-
sailant was; then with a grip at her
heart she recognized Philip's white
face as with terrible strength he
dragged Reggie up the steps.
Into her terrified eyes came one
strange flashing smile of welcome.
Her salvation man had saved her, and
as every woman does in cases where
her need is great, she cried out her
thanksgiving in his name, that best-
beloved name of Philip. By this time
the two men were struggling on the
deck, and as if impelled by some un- |
known force Tony staggered up the |
steps.
It was just as she reached the top
that she saw Captain MacCauley, by
one mighty effort, lift the struggling '
fizure of the other man and throw him i
into the lake. A sharp ejaculation fell
from her lips. Never had she seen
mr in,
—
A
Never Had She Seen Such Strength.
such strength, never had her heart
sung as it did then. She trembled so
that when Philip swung back and
rushed toward her, she sank down at
his feet. As falls away an old gar-
ment so fell away Philip’s anger. Ten-
derly he lifted her up and spoke to
ber,
“Poor little girl,” he whispered. But
he had no time to add anything, nor
had Tony time to answer him.
For there on the Hoghole path look-
ing at her, a frown dragging his brows
together, was her father.
Uriah Devon had halted at the sight
of a man being thrown into the water.
Then he came forward, and the girl
loosened herself from the arms that
held her and turned swiftly to him.
“Where's mummy?” she demanded,
and again came a sharper “Where's
my mother?” Roughly shoving her
aside, Uriah walked across the boat
deck, his sunken eyes fixed on Mac-
Cauley.
“What you mussin’ about my boat
for, mister?” he demanded. “And
what happened to trat young feller
crawlin’ to the beach there?”
“I slung him in the lake,” said
Philip fiercely. “The pup was—was—"
he made a gesture toward Tony as
Devon's interruption belched forth:
“Was it any of your business what
happened to my girl?”
Uriah took: another step toward the
young captain.
“That's your canoe, ain’t it, roped to
my dock?’ he demanded fiercely.
“Well, Lop in.and. get away if you
don’t want a broken skull!”
Philip sent a flashing glance to the
silent, white girl. There was such ter-
ror marked on her face that his teeth
came together tensely.
“He can't go till my mother comes,”
out. mister.”
With the end of the revolver te
gave the canoe a shove, and Tony saw
the paddie dip into the water and the
boy move away.
Urinh stood a woment and looked
ot to the hills. Then locking Tony
in the cabin he went to where Reggie
ly ou the shore and helped him back
to the boat.
CHAPTER IX.
The Face in the Window.
By ten o'clock a heavy rain and
wind had settled over the Storm
Country with such force that the
waves were rolling scuthward like
wory-crested mountains. Once in a
while a heavy thud of thunder rever-
berated over the lake from the north,
losing its roar back of the Cornell
buildings on the university campus.
Devon's canal boat was following
the little tug which was hugging the
western shore northward. Tonnibel,
in the little room back of the cabin,
was searching through the darkness
from the small window. But the only
thing she could see was the dark bank
elong which they crept and which
once in a while was lit up by a vivid
streak of lightning.
Suddenly the engine stopped, and as
if she imagined Gussie could help her
she gathered her into her arms.
In a vivid streak of lightning she
saw they were anchored close to
Crowbar point, which protected them
somewhat from the wind.
crouched low when the little door
opened and Uriah called her name.
“Come out here, Tonnibel,” he com-
manded roughly, and Tony, with Gus-
sie in her arms, crept into the cabin.
where Reggie was seated on a bunk.
looking pale and sullen.
“Set down on the floor, brat,” com-
, manded Uriah, and Tonnibel dropped
down. “Now listen to me, Tony,”
went on Devon. “Ever since you've
been knee high to a grasshopper yeu
been as mean as the devil. You always
#ot in behind Ede when she was here,
but now there ain't no skirts to shove
me off. You hear?”
Every vestige of blood left the wan
young face.
“Where is mummy?" she said, lift-
ing imploring eyes to his.
“Dead,” said Devon brutally, “as
dead as a door nail. Here, my lady,
if you holler I'll rap you one on the
© gob.”
“Dead!” cried ‘Tonnibel. “Pop,
youre lying to me—! know you are!
“Have it your own way, kid,” re-
i plied Uriah, with an insolent laugh.
“but one thing's sure—Ede ain't here
to buck against me now. What 1 want
10 get into your thick noodle is you're
goin' to get married as soon as we
get to Auburn. See?”
The girl's eyes remained centered
on his face, horror deep seated in
thelr gray depths.
“Here's Reggie wantin’
you,” continued Devon, with a wide
wave at the limp young man. “And
when I say you've got to 1 mean it.”
“1 won't,” fell from Tony's lips, but
the awful expression on her face didn’t
change nor did she drop her eyes.
Devon took a quick step toward her,
with an upraised arm, and as he had
beaten his wife so he laid the blows
about the girl's head and shoulders.
The pig fell from Tony’s arms in her
desperate efforts to protect herself.
“Oh, daddy, don’t, don’t, any more!”
she screamed.
Reggie Brown was watching the
brutal scene dully as if it interested
him but little. At the girl's fearful
plea Devon stepped back and glared
at her.
“Will you do what I bid you, miss?"
he demanded hoarsely. “I'd as soon
kill you as take a wink.” :
Tonnibel made no answer save to
weep more wildly, and, because she
did not make ready reply, Uriah
struck her again. Then suddenly
Reginald stood up.
“Don’t hit 'er any more, Dev,” he
drawled. “Shut ‘er up a while and
keep ‘er without grub, and she'll’ come
to time. Give 'er a night to think it
over. God, but you've walloped her
black and blue as tis.”
In answer to this Devon picked
Tony up and threw her into the back
cabin. Then he kicked Gussie over
the threshold, slammed the door and
locked it.
Philip MacCauley had paddled away
from the Dirty Mary with a dull,
i sick fear for the girl he had had to
‘ leave behind. To fight single-handed a
i drunken man with a gun was fool
| hardy and would do little Tony na
good.
When he reached the corner of the
i lake he ran his craft ashore and sat
for a long time thinking. Suddenly
. he saw through the dusk thatthe ca-
: nal boat had left its moorings and was
r moving slowly northward In the teeth
{of the rising wind. With an ejacula-
i ‘ion he shoved off and was out in the
She |
to .marry
SE ———————
belling surf. Wherever that boat weat
. he decided to go, too.
Uriah’s hand went back to his hip.
As he paddled carefully along, te
could see the shadows of two men In
the glimmer of the little light in the
small pilot house. Then Reggie was
there with Devon, but where was
Tony?
One small window in the canal beat
gave forth a dim light. He felt within
him that she was there where that
light was, alone and suffering. What
had she thought of his allowing him-
self to be forced away from her when
she needed him most? His teeth came
together sharply. He was no coward,
this Philip MacCauley, this captain of
the Salvation army.
Suddenly he caught sight of a pass-
ing shadow in the cabin, and his heart
leapt up within him. Twas the shad-
ow of a girl walking up and down.
Grimly his teeth set into his under lip
and with one deep thrust of the pad-
dle into the water, he sent the canoe
headlong toward the canal boat. Then
it was that a girl's face came to the
window.
The canoe almost crashed agairst
the side of the bigger boat as it came
sidewise of it, and Philip caught at it
Philip Caught at It Desperately,
desperately. Slowiy lifting himself
up he thrust his face close to Tony's.
She was staring at him blankly as If
his ghost had suddenly risen out of
the storm-tossed lake.
“Don’t do that, darling,” he whis-
pered as she drew back in terror. “I'm
going to take you away.”
Then she realized who it was, and
reached out and clutched at him,
breathlessly.
“Climb through,” undertoned Philip.
“Quick, climb through, and when I tell
You to drop, do it, but not before.”
By holding his body rigidly erect, he
managed to keep the canoe upright.
Then he waited. but not for long. Al-
most immediately a girl’s bare arm
shot through the window. Something
wriggled in her clutching fingers.
Philip almost lost his hold on the boat
as (Gussie came against his face. He
snatched the pig and dropped it at his
feet. Then a pair of bare legs fol-
lowed and Tony's body began to wrig-
gle through the narrow aperture.
Once or twice Philip muttered an.
ejaculation as a streak of lightning
crossed the sky only to die and leave
the water as dark as before. It was
taking the girl an interininahle time to
squeeze herself through that opening.
Suddenly her shoulders were through,
and she was hanging on by her hands.
Just at that moment the tug ahead
became silent, and Philip heard the
two men walking back along its roof.
They were coming aboard the canal
boat, and if— He crushed the canoe
nearer, lifted one hand and jerked the
hanging figure of the girl away from .
the window. She flopped face down-
ward into the bottom of the canoe,
and Philip left her there limp without
a word. Then he let go his hold of
the canal hoat, and a great wave lift-
ed his slender craft upon its crest and
they shot away toward the bank.
It took a shorter time than it takes
to tell it for the canoe to reach the
shore. Under the overhanging trees
where they were shielded from the
wind, Philip turned and looked back.
A man's face was thrust through the
window which had just yielded up the
quiet little figure at his feet. Then
fwo forms appeared upon the stern
deck. From the hand of one of the
men hung a lantern. Philip remained
very still. He knew they could not
see him hidden away there in the dark-
ness. :
For a long time, through which Ton-
nibel never moved. Philip waited. The
men on the canal boat seemed filled
with terror. They ran from one end
of it to the other. He heard them call-
ing to and fro, and once in a while an
oath escaped from Devon as he
screamed his daughter's name loudly.
It was not until he saw one of them
climb upon the tug and heard the sud-
den clang of the engine that the boy
tok up his paddle and moved slowly
along the shore southward, and, as he
was going with the wind, Philip made
rapid progress toward the head of the
lake.
In a little cove he drew the canoe to
the shore and. springing out, dragged
it its length from the water.
(Continued next week.)
——Get your job work done at this
office and get it right.
——Late arrival at ball grounds—
What's the score ? .
Smarty—Nothing to nothing.
Late Arrival—Must be a'good game,
huh?
Smarty—Dunno. Ain’t strated yet.
——=Subscribe for the “Watchman.”