6 THAT SLICE OF WARM BRFAD. vComing home from the office. Its cares and Its worries. Weighing me down with a burden to night. >1 thought of my care-free and forllcsome boyhood. And how quickly the years Intervening took flight; Ah! well I remember no chain could have »>Mind me. As h0..,,: from the schoolhouse my eager feet sped. Would now that my dining brought such satisfaction. As the thought of that slice of my mother's warm bread. STo business transaction, however success ful. Can give such a thrill of unalloyed bliss AM 1 felt when mother, with limitless kind ness. t.a.id that great snowy slice In my little brown fist, tvo rhythmical wording can ever describe It; Or no sweeter ambrosia the gods ever fed; The future had need of no optimist's glasses, While I held in my brown fist that slice of warm bread. Oh. often when closing my desk for the evening, Where the roar of the city drowns each homely sound; I Imagine myself at the old country home stead. Where the daisies are sprinkling the soft grassy ground; And I hear in the pasture the clear tink ling cow-bells. And know to the brook's limped pools they have fled: t a.m once again sitting, a little brown rascal. Munching away at my slice of warm bread. While under the apple trees out In the orchard. The white calves are playing at bump, with the brown, And the birds are a-twitter preparing for night time. Busily feeding their babies of down. Oh. never those memories life's hurry and bustle Can ever efface, till the grave hides my head. No pleasure of life e'er excel or quite equal The wealth of content In that slice of warm bread. —Albert Delane, In Housekeeper. 1 A CLEW BY WIRE ! ■-£ £ Or, An interrupted Current. »-* | I: BY HOWARD M. YOST. Sj Copyright. 1896. by J. B. Lippincott Co. 5 CHAPTER X.— CONTINUED. T went on expressing amazement, un til I discovered that Sonntag did not 8«m to hear me, so intent was he over the words the voice had uttered. "Pshaw! what's the use bothering over that, Mr. Sonntag?" I said. "There f«n't much sense to be made out of it, Mnyhow." "Yes, there is, too. It is conversa tion, and not a mere jumble of words," the old lawyer said, with an air of tri umph. "Just hear what I make out of it now." Divided up, the following was Sonn tag's version: First Party—"Never will you have my consent under existing circumstances. You have broken faitli with me in every way. Why was the property removed from the original place?" Second Party—"To bring you to time." First Party—"What did you do with It?" Second Party—"Safely hid, where you ran never find it unless you talk wis dom. I shall go for it this very niyht ■a nd take it away, and not one dollar will you ever "There, that's a pretty sensible talk, T take it," said my lawyer, when he had finished. "Oh, well, perhaps it is sensible enough, but what good will it do you, now that you have made a conversation »aut of it?" I remarked, in some im patience, for Sonntag's satisfaction * be found against me. You do actually seem pleased," I re marked with disgust, "Pleased is not the word. lam more than pleased. What you have told me is a most important bit of news,"Sonn tag said, taking up his hat. "Why is it important, and to whom?" I asked. "Very important to me, but more to yourself." "No; stay and explain," I called to him as he went out the door; "whai do you mean?" "Haven't a moment's time. Must go. I mean *hat most probably the cloud which Is enveloped your name will be lifted shortly. Do not cut into the cel lar to-day. Wait until to-morrow." Saying this, my lawyer departed. CHAPTER XI. I stood for some time gazing at the door through which Mr. Sonntag had gone. Amazement held possession of me. A thousand and one questions whirled through my head. But my lawyer had departed. I final ly strode to the window in the hope of finding him within hailing distance. He was far down the Twineburgli road, too far to call him. I saw him pull up his horse and lean forward and address a man who had approached him from the opposite di rection. The conversation lasted but a minute, and then horseman and pedestrian each went on their several ways. When the pedestrian drew nearer I saw it was Hunter, the station agent ift Sidington, or, as Sonntag had informed me. Skinner. It seemed very odd that he should have assumed another name. Then my eye caught the glimpse of a horsewoman coming down the road from the direction of the Morley resi dence. It needed but that glimpse to tell me that it was Florence. She was coming toward the house, perhaps to see me. When she reached the cross-road lead ing to Sidington and Twineburgli, up • which the man Hunter was approach ins-, she reined up her horse. When the fellow came up to Florence, I was surprised to see him stop and en gage her in a conversation which last ed some minutes and appeared to be rather earnent, judging by the way ' Florence leaned down toward him. Finally the young woman turned her horse's head and galloped back in the direction she had come. The station agent watched her re treating form, then slowly began to re trace his steps. He had pone but a . short distance when he stopped and looked toward my house, then again I turned and came back. I watched him from behind the eur i tains. As he approached near I saw his clothing was wet and bedraggled, i which plainly showed that he had been out in the recent shower, i He came up to the house in a hesitat ing way, glancing all around furtively, , and was about to pass up into the yard, • when I leaned from the window and hailed him. "Ilalloo, there! what's up? What do I you want?" I demanded. Glancing up at me with his stupid > stare, lie spoke. "When you want to , send anything away by freight, have it i at the station before nine o'clock in the morning," he said, in the deliberating i way of one who is compelled to manu ; facture a speech on the spur of the i moment. i "Is that all you wish to say to me? You did not come all the way from Sid f ington to tell me that?" I inquired, i caustically. "Why, no," he began, glancing all ; around, as though seeking for his r words in the surrounding objects. "1 i —I thought perhaps you didn't know — I that —that—a —are you having a good 1 time?" "A most enjoyable time indeed," I ex e claimed, enthusiastically, if somewhat sarcastically. "Just such a time as - I needed—restful, quiet, and perfect » peace." " Just a trace of a smile seemed to flit 1 across his face at my words. "Oh! then there is nothing the mat e ter with the place?" he asked, cu ' riously. / I was considerably surprised at this question. "1 should say not. What D should be the matter with it?" I asked, s "Some folks say it's kind o' queer - like. Some say dead people use the t house at nights for meetings," he re r plied, sinking his voice down low, and glancing around nervously, e "is that so? Well, let them. As l long as the dead ones don't disturb me, J I am sure I have no objection. What 1 part of the house are the spirits sup i posed to frequent?" I asked, a thought of the walled cellar coming to me. y The fellow seemed a trille flustered, y I thought, by my sudden question. He e gave vent to a nervous laugh, and at >, the same time darted a sharp glance t at me, which, momentary as it was, i nevertheless was so different from his o usual half-wondering stare that 1 was impressed by it. r, "Oh, I don't know what part of the ia house is used by the spirits. How i- should I know?" i- There had been something irritating t to me in the fellow, and, as there was e a hint of insolence in his last words, !- I gave way to my impatience. "See here; you have given me some t strange hints about my house,"l be gan sternly; "now, then, you'll please s explain more fully what you mean, Mr. Hunter, or perhaps, I should say, d Mr. Skinner." 8 I do not know what impelled me to add the name which Sonntag said was CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, MAY 5, 1898 the correct one, but the effect on the fellow startled me considerably. II is eyes grew staring', and % terrified, hunted expression came over his face. Glancing furtively around and draw ing back a step or two, his hand went to his hip-pocket. As the glint of a shining object caught my eye, I drew suddenly back to one side of the window, and the next instant a pistol report sounded out. I stood still a moment, dumfounded by the attack, then dropped on my hands and knees and crept past the win dow to the table, in the drawer of which I had placed my pistol. Hastily grasp ingl the weapon and noting that it was ready for use, I arose and approached the window, holding the pistol before me in readiness. "Two can play at your game, Mr. " But I got no further. The man was no where to be seen. 1 hastened from the house and ran around, searching for him, but no trace could 1 discover. lie had vanished com pletely. Ilis sudden disappearance puzzled me. I soon gave up the search, put ihe pis tol in my pocket, and started briskly up the road toward the Morley place. If the station agent was such a des perate fellow as to draw and shoot at a word, what could Florence have to do with him? It was strange that Sonntag should know the fellow's right name and not know the danger attendant on calling him by it. My lawyer had seemed sur prised when I stated that the fellow had told me his name was Hunter. In all probability Sonntag had addressed him by the name of Skinner many times, and the fellow had not resented it, or the lawyer would have mentioned the fact. Why, then, should he resent in so fierce and deadly a manner my use of his right name? Perhaps Florence could tell me some thing about Mr. Hunter, or Skinner. At least it was right I should warn her against him. With these thoughts flitting across my mind, I soon arrived at the Morley home, and, entering the gate, went up the long graveled walk. Before an op portunity was allowed me to ascend the steps leading to the piazza, my name was called. "Why, Mr. Conway!" It was Florence who called, and who on my turning toward her got out of a hammock. She was still dressed in her riding-habit, and as I approached I no ticed her horse tied to a post near by. "Are you going riding again?" I asked. "In that case, pardon my in trusion." "Papa and I usually ride at this time. I am waiting for him," she said, "Desperate vill&lnP" she repeated. with a touch of surprise; for I had spoken in rather formal tones. "Then I will defer my errand. Some othir time will answer just as well, per haps. Will you kindly tell me when I may have the pleasure of seeing you?" "What is it, Nelson? What can be the matter?" she asked, her brown eyes staring in astonishment. "Will you not speak now?" "Why, I can certainly. It is not very important, perhaps. I wish to ask you what you know about the station agent at Sidington. 1 have seen you talking with him on several occasions. What can one like you have to talk about with such a desperate villain!" Florence's face turned white. "Des perate villain?" she repeated, in a fear some whisper. "Why, Nelson!" Then I told of my recent talk with the scoundrel and his dastardly at tempt to shoot me. Florence hearkened, with hands clasped across her bosom, her eyes staring in terrified amazement. "Oh, do not be alarmed," I added. "He did not hit me. A miss is as good as a mile, you know." But «he still stood gazing at me, doubt and fear upon her face, too dum founded to speak. Finally, she burst into tears, and, in a most pathetic way, held out her hands appealingly to me. Stirred to the heart's core by her grief, I caught the dear form in my arms. Wondering what coidd be the cause of the sudden and overwhelming expression of sorrow, and heartily ashamed of myself for having ad dressed her in cold, formal tones, I sought with many endearing terras to console her. What is it, my love, that so distresses you? Tell me about it. You do not know how happy it would make me to be allowed to share your troubles." "I am troubled. Nelson, deeply troubled," she replied, raising her tear stained face. "There are so many in explicable things going on about me, HO much mystery, such forebodings of dreadful happenings, In my heart, that if it were not for your love existence would be misery. And now your own dear life is threatened, and all rnv fault, too. I cannot understand it at all. Why should anyone want to kill you? Oh, Nelson!" She laid her head against me, and I gently stroked the soft tresses which fell back behind her ear in such beau tiful waves. For a few moments I could not answer. Her words startled me. be yond expressinon. What, in God's name, was there nbout this back-country place? Had its uncanny mysteries even entered my darling's sweet life to taint its happiness? "Do not give way to an unreasonable terror, dear heart," I finally said. "What possible harm can reach you?" "It is not for myself that I am fear ful, and I suppose it is unreasonable; but think. Nelson, if he had shot you!" She shuddered, and then with an ef fort became calmer. "Do not worry about me. Be sure I am able to take care of myself; and forewarned is forearmed. What else is there? Tell me. You know you may count on mv help and sympathy." "Yes, 3'es, I know that, Nelson. And I do need your help. It seems as though I were walking blindfolded on the edge of a precipice." The loved form nestled closer to me. It made me fool ishly happy to hold her in my arms and know they were as a haven of refuge to her. "Then, too," Florence went on,"I aift so worried about father." "So you said yesterday. Have you any reason to be?" "Maybe not; at least I know of none, except that he is so changed of late. But a woman's instinct often divines causes for worry when none are per ceptible." "You cannot mean that he is changed toward you?" "Oh, no, no! Not in his love for me. Indeed, there seems to be an augment ed tenderness toward me. And it makes me feel as though, somehow, I was partly the cause of the trouble. Why, I know there is something wor rying poor father. He is even chang ing in appearance, and is becoming so haggard. There is some secret sorrow he is enduring. I spoke to him about it only the other day." "What answer did he give you?" I asked. "Just laughed, and said I was gifted with a vivid imagination." "There, you see, it must be only business worry. If it were anything regarding yourself, he would not make light of it." Florence was partly comforted by my assurance. She glanced up into my face and smiled. But the troubled and perplexed look came back when she answered: "Perhaps it is as you say. But I can not get it out of my head that Mr. Jack son is somehow connected with it all." "Jackson? How could he affect your father's life so seriously?" I exclaimed. "I do not know. He used to come here frequently until lately. And after every visit father seemed to be so troubled and worried." [TO BE CONTINUED.I THE ART OF CONVERSATION. He Truvrlril Itound the World and Snld Nothing About It. Taking them all round, I had rather talk with a strange doctor than a stran ger of any other profession. They have generally seen a great deal of human nature, and if they have only seen a little of it it is worth hearing about. They never talk about art. at- a!l events. I confess I am rather afraid of trav elers, unless they are commercial trav elers. They are too full of information and are too often anxious to impart it. Sometimes it is not even true. Fred erick Locker used to tell of how an un scrupulous traveler narrating his ad ventures' among the red Indians was cleverly stopped by Lord Barrymore "Did you ever see anything of the Chick- Chows?" "Oh, a great deal," said Sir Arthur; "a very cruel tribe, the Chick (Chows." "And the Cherry-Chows,eh?" "Oh, very much among the Cherry- Chows," continued Sir Arthur; "the Cherry-Chows were singularly kind to my fellows." "And pray. Sir Arthur, did 7 ou see much of the Tol-de-roddy bow-wows ?" This was too much for even Sir Ar thur. lie was rather put out, but the company was relieved. Nevertheless, there are modest travelers. I had once a great friend who had traveled all round the world. When almost on his deathbed he spoke to me on the subject for the first time with humorous pathos. "My dear fellow, you will do me the justice, when I am gone, to say that I never told you one word about it." But he was a noble exception.—Nineteenth Century. Tlie Wisdom of Krnppr. A golfer in South Africa left his prop erty to be equally divided between two sons. Not being able to agree they de cided to let President Kruger arbitrate, lie said to the eldest: "You are the eldest, are you not?" "Yes," was the answer. "So you shall divide the prop erty." This pleased the elder immense Iv. "You are th" younger," continued Kruger to the orher, "so you shall have first choice!"— Golf. A Youthful Flnnncier. Effie's Brotliei - —Do you love my sis ter Effie? Elbe's Steady Company—Why, Willie, that is a queer question. Why do you want to know? Elbe's Brother —She said last night she would give a ten po'md note to know; and I'd lilie to seosp it in.—Tit- Bits. Willing; to Treat. "Then, proud beauty, you refuse my love?" said lie. "Well," said the sum mer girl, thoughtfully, "I don't know but that I might be willing to take au option on it."-—lndianapolis Journal. In Every Sense of the Term. "She is a decided brunette, isn't she?" "Very. They say her husband can't call his soul his own." —Puck TO INVADE CUBA. Preparations are Being Made by Army Officers. Cavalry. Infantry avid Artilleryman are Or «ler««l to Tampa, Fla., Where It In Kx peeteil that the Troop* Will be AH- Hem bled t hat are to Teach tlii) DOHA a Lewon. Washington. April 30.—lien. Miles and his assistant.-, were in conference yesterday respecting military opera tions that arc to be undertaken in the occupation of Cuba. They all main tain the strict*,t reticence concerning the result, of these deliberations. The Cuban representatives in Washington were at Gen. Miles' headquarters and were consulted in regard to various steps which would arise in connection with the co-operation of t'nited States troops with the insurgent forces in Cuba. C'hiekamauga National l'ark, Ga., April 30.—There was hustling among the artillerymen at C'hiekamauga Park yesterday. The eight batteries in camp were ordered at once to Tampa and the entire day was taken up in getting the men, horses and guns aboard the cars. Trains bearing these men and their equipments have been given the right of way and it is ex pected they will arrive at Tampa this morning. The Twenty-fourth infantry and the Ninth cavalry will move this morning to the coast. New Orleans, April 30.—The First regiment left hare last night for Tam pa, waiting over for Gen. Shafter's staff, who were also ordered to meet the commander in Florida. The im pression among army men is that the first army corps sent into Cuba will be for the purpose of co-operating with the insurgents. Mobile. Ala.. April 30.—The Tenth anil Twenty-second regiments left camp here Friday afternoon, bound for Tampa. AN ANANIAS IN UNIFORM. Spain's War Minister Deilares that the Kn gaKemetit at MatanzaM Resulted In a Great Victory for Spanish Arms. Madrid, April 30.—The minister of war. Gen. Correa, in the chamber of deputies yesterday, replying to in quiries for particulars in regard to the bombardment of the forts at Matan/.as, said the government had decided to publish "all the news received, good or bad." Continuing. Gen. Correa told the deputies that the United' States squad on fired 00 projectiles, and that the only victim was a mule, a remark which aroused laughter among the Spaniards. The general next informed the house that the American warships were in jured by the fire of the Spanish bat teries. and he asserted that the insur gents were acting in conjunction with the t'nited States forces, as they ad vanced in the direction of Matanzas while the bombardment was proceed ing. "Hut." added the minister for war. "they were completely routed." In conclusion Gen. Correa remarked: "It was a glorious day for the Spanish arms." Gen. Weyler in the senate yesterday urged the government to take the of fensive against America, lie justified his administration in Cuba, lie de clared that had he been allowed six months longer he would have entirely crushed the insurrection and would have realized the promise he made to Senor Canovas del Castillo that by April, ls'.is, In- would be in a position to offer him 50,000 veterans to attack the United States. A great impression has been pro duced here by a rumor that Germany has issued a note declaring that she will not oppose the landing of troops in the Phillippines, but will not per mit any bombardment. WHITHER BOUND? Spain's Fleet Finally Leaven Cape Verde Islands A Portion of the Squadron Dis abled liy a Collision. London, April 30.—A dispatch from St. Vincent, Cape Verde islands, says the Spanish cruisers Maria Teresa. Al mirante Oquendo, Vizeaya and Cristo bal Colon, accompanied by the Spanish torpedo boat destroyers Pluton, Terror and Furor, sailed Friday morning in a westerly direction, presumably going towards Cuba. The dispatch adds that the Spanish torpedo boats Azor. Kayo and Ariete and the Spanish transports San Francisco and Ciudad de Cadiz sailed at the same time in a northerly direction, probably going to the Canary islands. St. Vincent. Cape Verde Islands. April 30. —Two of the Spanish transports re turned here Friday with three Spanish torpedo boats, owing to a collision. The Spaniards say two of the torpedo boats were slightly damaged. They claim the boats will be able to sail to-day. Washington. April 30.—The navy de partment received news Friday of the sailing from St. Vincent, Cape Verde, of the Spanish tleet. The majority of the naval officers here feel confident that the Spanish fleet will next appear at the Canary islands, about half way between Cape Verde and Spain. As the Canaries are Spanish islands and possess some strong fortifications, it may be that the fleet will remain there 'or some time, as the islands form a good strategic base. What most con cerns the naval officers just now is how to learn when the fleet arrives there. The Newport Captures a Sloop. Key West, Fla., April 30.—A small Spanish sloop, the Kngracia, captured on Thursday by the gunboat Newport, off Cabanas, was brought in here Fri day. She was in charge of a prize crew. Only one blank shot was neces sary to bring the Engracia to. She had on board a crew of seven men and a cargo of fish. OfTers to Form ail Irish Itrigaile. New York, April 30.—A letter has been sent to President McKinley by William Lyman, president of the Irish National Alliance, offering to form an Irish brigade to assist the United States in the war against Spain. Go to yo r get a bottle of Hood's Sarsapartlla and be gin to take it today, and realize at onca the great good it is sure to do you. Hood's Sarsaparilla Is America's Greatest Spring Medicine. Prayer for Columbus. Prof. Park, of Andover, figures rath er amusinffly in the reminiscences of the late Prof. Schaff, just published. In 1843 Seliaff, being a privat-docent at Berlin, introduced Park to his (ierinan friends, among the rest to Kahnis. He relates that, under the continuous pelt ing of Park's questions, Kahnis finally exclaimed, in despair: "God forgive Christopher Columbus for discovering Am o rii.'a!" | A perfect type of the | J highest order of : I excellence. ♦ t TWAO«.MAWK. X jWameittl I Breakfast ! | | I ABSOLUTELY PUREJ ♦ Delicious—Nutritious. « | COSTS LESS THAN ONE CENT A CUP. | 1 Be sure you get the genuine article 2 ♦ made at Dorchester, Mass., by £ ♦ WALTER BAKER & CO. Ltd. | X EST A3 LI SMC D 1 TOO. £ frh Goto your grocer to-day and get a 15c. package of I Grain=o a^es pi ace °f c °f" Ylr fee at £ the cost. 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