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JOHN BURTll,.r"?" A(kr e Tk K Knapped Mltaomlrva." -Gltaa' Mwn'i Oectrtne." Ctc CVirvK;n-r. T All nstitt tvrvwmirr, IK ev TTnvr san Uraaa adak nriri A. J. Daaaet, Ditoil CHAPTER NINt Continued. Two warm irmi were clasped around tilt neck-, a far wet with tear nestled for a moment on hi shoul der, and she kissed him twice, with the live kisses that com from the ' heart of a woman whose affection haa passed ttia mysterious border that sep arate friendship from love. "Good bye, John; Qod tries you and guard you I" " "Goodbye. Jessie; good-bye!" He watched her m ihe faded away from him and disappeared beyond the Tine wbich shaded the veranda. Under the arched maple where he had walked with Jessie so many time, and down the sandy road where they had loitered in summer day now gone forever, John Burt tinted the horse along. It was two mile to Peter Burt's, and he soon reached the gloomy old house. A fig ure stood by the gate. John rode for ward and recognized his grandfather. "You did well to come home, my boy," caid the old Bian. whose deep, calm Toire held an anxious note. "Something haa happened, and my eoul has been railing you since dusk. Ride to the graveyard and Ml follow you. It id n't safe to talk here." In the far corner of the old grave yard John Burt hitched his horse and turned to meet bis grandfather. The old man seated himself on the grave of the pioneer Hurt who. two hundred year before, had dared the danger of the wilderness. "Now we cao talk," he said. "Ta'.l me what haa happened." Quickly John Burt related the Inci dent of the tragedy. The old man made no algn during the recital, and was silent Uir min utes after John had ended. "He deserved to die. and It was written that he should perish by vio lence; but his blood Is not on your heed." began the old man calmly. 'Murder, In the sight of God. Is In the r ss,. -art 1. e . ''V ' 'i n; M'l-' t-Avi" t.i., 1 '1 ll'l I I I .i' I I kl in 1 ZVZar TEARS J7v 77arjrnsr- f&zzr heart not In the hand. I I am Peter Burt's voice broke, and ahuddttr swi)t over Mm; but he con trolled bimxelf, and continued: "My boy, will ycu take your grand- father's advice?" "I will, grandfather I will!" re-1 plied John firmly. "It I written In God's word: lf thou faint In the day pf adversity, thy strength Is small; for a Just man ' falleth seven time and rUeth up again,'" said Peter Burt, laying his hand on John' aboulder. "Cod ha willed that you shall be Hi Instru ment In great undertakings, and It hs decreed that the event of to-day ahull not be a at u cabling block to your fevt You are bow to go out Into the world, and though you may know It not, God will guide your f.iotitepe. It wore folly to Imagine that this n provoked quarrel point to your un dolog. It I the alga that you are at ftnre to depart from fields you bae outgrown, to take up your work In that broader sphere which Is waiting you, Something ba whlipered to me that you should go to California To day event I the sign that you g ) now. You will start to olgtit. my boy, and Uod will b with you. Husb! t hear tb hoofs of horses'" The old man Jum pd to bis feet. "OnVt-r are coming!" fce said In a low voice. "1 will meet them He main here till I return. Hold that borwe by the nose lent he wblnny." As John spraag to the horse's head, the old ui sa vauUhed la the dark ness. Peter Burt entered the rear door of his house and was In his room when the tramp of step a l.eard, fol lowed by loud koiM-klng The old roan waited awhile as If dressing He then lighted a lamp and stood In the hallway. The pounding had bet-n r-pt-uted at Intervals, and gruff voices were hrard In Impatient couvcrsatlon. "Vho' there?" deruaudi'd Hie old aaan. "We are officers of the law. Vr. Burt," a voice declared. "We are af tar John Burt, your grandson, who bay) killed a man." "Have you a warrant f jr his arrest, or search warrant?" demanded the old man. "Show me -d at the win dow and I wilt open the. door. f you have none, begoue, u.U m rest la pi-are." . . ' A conference followed, and A gruS oir roe Id anger. - "It Ui la, 'uSi mn.' it thundered. "Warrant or ao'warraut; M u In, or by Jo4 we'll pound your d.xr down 7. , i ' jidl-v-''-w-ofc-'.j and take you along with your murder ln' grand son!" "Open my door at your peril!" said Peter Burt sternly. "Show me your authority, and you can enter my bouse. This house Is my castle, and no man hs ever entered It without my consent."- " Growling threat, the men rwtlred. la a minute they returned, armed with a log. Used as a battering ram. It was hurled against the heavy oak en doer. For a time the atotit frame resisted, but with a crash the Jamb gave way and the door flew open. With an oath and a call to his com panion, the larger of the two rushed In. As the man crossed the threshold the patriarch's left arm flew out, and the corded finger gripped the reek less Intruder by the throat. The sec ond man hit the old farmer a glancing blow with the butt end of a revolver. With a catlike movement, Peter Burt wrenched his opponent' forearm. With a cry of pain the man dropped the weapon to the floor. Before he could guard himself Peter Burt dealt him bard blow on the face, and gripped him by the neck as he reeled against the will. Holding the two men at arm's length, Peter cracked their heads to gether, and then dragged them Into the room, where the lamplight fell on tneir face. The protruding tongue and the blood-surged face of the one who bad led the charge caused Peter Burt to relax bis hold, aud the man fell limp to the floor. A glance showed that his companion was sense less, and the old man stretched him out on the carpet. Peter Burt produced a coll of rope from a closet, and with the dexterity of a sailor bound the senseless men. He then proceeded to revive tbem. "I have not gagged you." said Pe ter Burt, as be stood over them, "for the reason that your cries would bring you co assistance. As soon as convenient. I will give you more com fortable quarters. Now that you are here, you may spend the night with me." Beating himself at a desk, Peter Burt wrote two fetters, and sealed Ihem. He then opened a huge. Iron bound chest, and for half an hour as busy with Its contents. When his work was ended, he quitted the room without so much a a glance at the silent figures on the floor. John met him at the gateway. "Here are your Instruction. John." be said. "Go to your room and select sech trifles a you can carry In your saddlebags. You must make Ply mouth before daybreak. This letter Is addreesed to a man In Plymouth. Here Is a ring. Show blm this ring with the letter. Htsy In his house all day. and start for New Bedford about ten o'rkx'k tomorrow night. You must arrive in New Bedford be fore daybreak, and go to the addres on this letter. When you find It show Csptatn Hortoa the letter and the ring He will put you oo board tht SegregansAtt, ablet) sails for the South Pacific In three days front new. This third package you will not ex aatiae until well at sea. Here Is money. Kuter the house and make no UDne-fry noie I will saddle ir hots, and out at the t.sro " The sky was aflame Kith ImMuIng a John stood once more by the old man's side. The nimble of thunder told of the near approach of the lem lwt. "John." sal 1 Peter Burt as he granp-d the boy s band in b!s. "I feel no sorrow save the pi!n of a tempor ary parting. I shall see you agrta. my boy; I shall claap yuiir hand In the vigor of your manhood. hen sue ceits has crowned your efforts, and when your bapplto Is complete. lk not write to me or attempt to corn ui'.it.li ttf with me, or !th anyone, until you are rich and strucg enough to tuet your enemies oo equal grouud. During thrte coming years let money be your au.bnion You live In an age when money 1 the god of the material world. Understanding haj been granted to you, and when you apply yourself to the struggle the thrill of knowledge will pervade you. You have received a ken of this world affairs, so that I can say to you la the language of Isalab: 'I will give the the treasure of darkness and the bidden rlcuee of eecrttt place.' Rest secure la that promise, have abiding faith In It, aad bold no 7m communication with thone who love yod until my prophecy has come to m. 1 you protnlne me, my boy?" "I do, grandfather!" said John, who was deeply affected. "You have been so good" "Never mind, my boy; thsnk God. not me. Good bye, Jolin-CoJ bless you ! " The first drops of the storm pat tered on the dusty roadway as the old man raised his hands and gave John hta blessing. Springing Into the saddle, the boy caught one last glimpse of Peter Burt In brilliant flash of lightning which glorified hi heroic figure, his white hair shining as a halo above his brow. It was four o'clock when he halted at a email house on the outskirts of Plymouth. Years before, with Peter Burt, he bad vlaited the old aallor who waa spending there hi declining years. After repeated knocking, the old man opened the door. John hand ed him the letter and showed the ring. He reed the letter and heartily greeted his guest. "Enough smld. my boy!" he de clared, as he burned the letter. "You'll be as safe here as in God' pocket. Make yourself comfortable and til stow away your horse." When the old man returned he pre pared a breakfast which John ate with relish, and then hi host showed him to a bed which, though bard, seemed the most delightful place he had found In year. The sun wa low hen John woke. The old sailor did not betray the slightest curiosity con cerning John's Journey, and at ten o'clock his guest bade him farewell with sincere thanks for his hospital ity. The night ride to New Bedford wa made without Incident. It waa three o'clock when John kuocked at Cap tain Morton's door; and, much to bis surprise, that gruff old mariner was up and dressed. "Come In! I've been expectln' ye!" he said as he opened the door. "Glad to meet ye. Joe," he said, turning to a sleepy-eyed boy, "take care of this lad's horse." John secured the contents of the saddle bags, and an hour later stepped on board the Segregansett. Captain Horton showed him bis quarters and advised him to "turn In." He did so. and when he awoke the heaving and groaning of the old whaler told him that she was on the open sea. Not until the Segregansett had left the Bermudas did John open the pack age which had been given to him by Peter Burt. It contained a long let ter from the old man. describing a spot In the California mountains, of which a dying sailor bad told him years before. The p. or fellow de clared that he had found a rich de- jHisit of gold, and that be was work ing his way bark to Boston, hoping to Interent the necessary capital. In Peter Burt's letter was enclosed rough map which the sailor bad sketched when he realized that death stood In the way of his dreams of wealth. There was also a parcel with an outer covering of oiUktn. Jjhn unwrapped it and diolod a large, old'fashloned wallet, which he recoK nled as having belonged to hi grand father. In this wallet he found a lsyer of I'nited States Treaury n.te of large denominations. II li finger tlns'.ed as he handled the cote. Ten thousand dollars! Jessie seemed much nearer as John looked at those bits of paper. The scenes and Incidents of that eighteen thousand mile Journey around Cape Horn are worthy of ex tended recital, but are not an essen tial part of this narrative. One blight afternoon the Segregansett Bailed Into the harbor of Valparaiso, and a week later John Hurt was a passen ger on the steamer Reliance, bound for San Krenrlsco. A thousand league away, Jessie Tarden treasured the secret of a sen sation strangely akin to new born love On the walls of her class room wa a large map. and she loved to look at it and wonder what spot of land or sea held John Burt. (To b continued.) An Unkind Question. It was shortly after the house , ra mi! tee of the mM rstlc club promul gated a resolution that evening dress should be worn by member and visi tors who d I tied or paid evening visit to the club, that Tom Dunn, the for mer sheriff, fell Into a library arm chair one night. Vr. Dunn's own gsrb would have passed muster at Marlborough House, so he looked around Un the throng tn confidence aod content There came a certain man of busi ness to the club that night who wore an evening suit which wa well fitting, expensive, and correct In detail. But he did not look comfortable Pride kept bltn quiet for a few nio meiit. at the end of which pri.le caused him to ask: How do you like It. Tom?" "It's Immenne." said Dunn; "why don't you buy It f" New York Tele rrsph. Uncle earn a Foster Mother. A rural conscript during the eh I! war appeared before the board of en roI!meiit and desired to le exempt that be might return to his country home. "What are your claims?" Asked the doctor. "I am entirely dejmudent upon my mother for support," wa the Intiocnut reply. The members of the board smiled. and the doctor replied. "I am happy to aure you, my boa est hearted friend, that the govern meat la prepared to at ooce relieve your mother of eo unsuitable burden and assume your entire charge aad expense during Ihe next three year. JOHN BURTl'S Aether "Tk k.Mnw.4 MUllMMlr," C.lrf MaMe Dwctrtas," KM. limt, twit, ar All H(hu i (VievaioeT. 14 av rasua-n a Urms Adams ntmt I A. J. UmiL Ifioot Cupid had stolen upon her In the night. He had fired an arrow and fled. She felt the delicious tingle of the wound In her heart, and won "tered if It was love. CHArrta ten. Samuel Lemuel Round, "The Roundsea don't run much tew ancestry. I reckon; leastwise our end on 'em don't." Sam Round had ex plained to John Burt on one occasion. "Course I've got a lot of ancestor back omewbar. but who'a thunder they are. blamed 'f I know!" It la reasonably well established that a Round settled in Rehoboth fulty one hundred years before Sam wa born, but the latter' recollection did not extend back of his father one Hiram Rounds. The annals of Hiram Rounds and his family can be epito mised In one word work. "Dad shorely was er hard worker an' no mistake." explained Sam. "When thar wa'nt no work tew dew on our farm, he'd hire out tew ther neighbor fer fifty er seventy-five cent er day. And at night we'd all ahave hoop after supper, working 'til nine an' sometimes ten o'clock. In the winter dad would haul logs tew Newport. He shorely was the chw-n-plonworker 'round Rehoboth. I-ots er strong young feller came up from Attleboro and tried to mow a swath with dad, bnt he ttihed all on 'ers." "Killing himself to live." mused John Burt. "Wall. I reckon ht did leastwise Dec Reynold lowed so. Dad died when he was forty-eight. He teamed afl night, three nights ntnnln". workin' ou. the poll-tax fer the neighbors, an' he had' er stroke. Doc wsrned him then tew let up er bit. but dad Just somehow couldn't, and he pitched in ereatn. He wa shinglln' ther roof of ther barn, erbout elevon o'clock one night, an' I guess he had e rot her stroke. The doctor couldn't exactly tell whether ho had er stroke, er whether W' Ml off an' broke b'.s neck, er both eny how be was dead when they picked hiro up. I wan t home at ther time I was tn Pall River workin' la the mills. When us young ones got tew be twelve years otd moot on us was parked uff an' sat tew work In ther cotton mills er In the match factories, rive of my sis ters worked la ther cotton milts. Nowadays ther workin' men are talk In' erbout er ten hour day, an' some on 'em Is atriklu' fer as' e'.ghl hour day. My Bisters an' thousands of other girls used tew wotk from sis o'clock In ther mornln' till cine at night, an' they was mighty glad tew git ther chance. Where air my listers now? Two on 'em la dead, two mar ried, an' one In an asylum." "You ncter told me how you made your start. Sam," John laid, taking advantage of hi friend reminiscent mood "Reckon 1 never would got atarted If I had tew deiwad on wag." re flated Bm. "Worked In cr ahop la Providence ter three year an' saved, up er hundrod dollars. Tbn dad died an' left me pert of ther old farm. 1 sold out fer s!x hundred Went up ter Vermont and bought me hoes an' brought 'em bark an' sold 'em. Then I kept on huylo' an' sellln' 'era. When I had enough money I bought that air atrip of land I own now, and I've been there ever since. 1 vo been down ter New York, lookin' It over, an' have rUut d-sii ed ter locale there. That er great foin, John, an' 1 knows more erbout bosses than nmse on 'em down that a-wsy What dew ye think erbout It. John?'' Sstn looked auxlouly Into Ihe fare ot his friend. "1 should go," sslJ John dM Lively. "There's a fortune waiting f r you In New York. Sam. Go. by alt raems." This settled It with Sam. .A mouth af'er the Segregansett sailed away with John Burt, a Providence steam er carried Sam Round aad fifty carefully selected horses to New York. Slrre the death of bis father Sam had provided for hi mother, who lived with him In a well bullt house on hi Hlngbam stork farm. Mrs. Round waa n fded little woman who had reached ber three score of years. She looked frail, but wa seemingly Incapable of phyalcal fatigue. She had reared familv of tea children, and for more than forty year bad averaged alxteen hours of T-'"'7sV7 w-r' i yyj gf V ' ) : J I v V. I t e- I III V ft work a day. Her girlhood was spent In fartory and her honeymoon In kitchen. When Sam was able to build house he declsred that It should be hi mot her e home. He registered a vow that she should do no more work. " The good old lady waa astonished and a bit dismayed when she examin ed the modest bouse Sam had erected. "This la a nice, place," she said pride of her on and hereditary cau tion struggling for mastery. "It must ha' cost a lot of money. I'm afraid you're reckless and extravagant. Sam uel. Don't be extravagant, Samuel. It's a besetting sic." "There ain't no commandment agin ttr leastwise I never saw none In the Bible." said Sam. who was a perpetual mystery to hi mother. "To my way of thlnkln', extravagance Is erbout the only thing worth llvln' fer. I alms ter be the most extravagant chap ever turned outer Rocky Woods." The reproving 1'H'k on his mother' face vanished when Sam threw his strong arms around ber aid kixoed her with a resounding smack. They entered the house, and Sara escorted h!s mother to a coiy room and told ber that It was her own. She looked at the tasteful furniture. Ihe snowy linen, the bright rugs, and the plo ture. and tear stood In her eye. "This Is too good for me. Ssmual." she said, holding hi hands and look ing fondly Into his eyes. "But you must be hurgry. I'll change my dress and get dinner. Wbere's the kitchen, Samuel?" "Never mind erbout the kitchen." said Sam. "There ain't no kitchen fer you. Dinner's all ready, anyhow. Come on. Ma Rounds. I'l show you the cutest dlnln'-rootn ye ever sot yer ey-ts on." It was a pretty d'.ning-roont. A broad bay window, framed with morn ing glories, looked out on a well kept lawn. The table was deenrated with flowers, and the table linen was fiaw- 7 r-vtr TT.Gir hOCfO less. To tr old fxrniwlfe thene mod et comforts realised her dreams of prodigality. Sam touched a bell, and a trim, whltn-aproned maid responded. She placed a tureen In front of the mas ter of the houe and moved noisrleas I." away. Vns. Rounds gsted sesreh Irgly. first at the young woman and then at Sam. "8 -ems I ke old times tew have yeai offer a bleln'" said Sam. as be serv ed bis mother a portion of the savory aoup "Who Is that woman? ahe asked. "Her name Is Mrs. Fletcher. Hb s the housekeeper here. She's n widow lady, an' a mighty gixd woman." "Of course you'll let her go now." hi mother ssid. when Ihe housekeep er had served a roast of lamb, a dish of green peas, browned potatoes and Sieone lender cabbage. " ran do Ihe cooktn' an' all the work here now. What do you pay her. Samuel?'' "Seven dollars a a month." weld Sam. who preferred the falsehood rather than the confession of the apialllng truth that Mrs. Fletcher re ceived that amount per wea-k. "She' an awful good cook, ma." "Seven dollar a month and her keep." miiacd Mr. Round. "That would be a much as twelve dotlars a month, or one hundred and fifty dol lars a yer, Samuel. We ran save all that. It her go at once, Samuel, aud I wilt do the work." "You'll do nofhln", Ma Rounds." said Sam. dcldedly. "You've worked night onto fifty years, an" that's enough. Now. I'm goin ter dew ther work, an' you're goln' ter dew ther playiu' an' ret'n Of course you ran sew an" boas ther girl an' putter 'round like, but you mint keep outer ther kitchen, an' fergit that brooms ever wss made. I Hint you worry er bout money. I've got enough money ter keep both on us er hundred years, an' I in goln' ter have more." Sam took hi mother to Boston and superintended the purchase of lre material, a bonnet, and varkius articles of apparel. On this occasion ho was guilty of a scheme or decep tion which filled his aoul with Joy. He was acquainted with Mr. Kama worth, Ihe merchant, and calling him aside, said: "I want you tew wait on mother an' me. yerself. Mr. rarnaworth. Mother la the best woman In the world, but she think I'm extravagant, an I wouldn't hurt ber flin fer any thing Now, tell ye what ye ran dew. When she ptrki out a Cheap thing, you multiply the price by four er five, an' when ye show her somo Ihln' hangup an' good enough fer a princess, put the price way down. D'ye understand? An' when we get through, give mo the true bill and show her the other one, an" lit make It all right fer yer trouble. An' mind ye, I want the best In ther store for Mother Hounds" The merchant smilingly agreed til this arrangement and entered heartily Into the deception. Mrs. Round had never been la Boston until that day, although all her life had been spent within an hour' ride from the New England metropolis. Occasional visit to the dry goods shops of Taunton formed epochs In ber life, and ahe wa dated at the contemplation of the alght before her. The ah elves, with their load of fabrics, seemed endless, and she crouched behind n marble column for fear of being In the way of the chattering, laughing throng of shopper. "I don't want much. Samuel," ahe whispered, a Mr. Famsworth turned to take down a bolt of dress goods. "We must be economical. Samuel. Tell him to show us aome ginghams." "All right. Ma Rounds; watch me beat him down." retuired Sam. nudg Ing her gently with bis elbow. "Here Is a stylish pattern. Mrs. Rounds." said Mr. Karnsworth. dis plsylcg a neat gingham, worth per rap ten cents a yard. "How much a yard?" asked 8sm. Mr. Famsworth gravely consulted the rabalistlc price mark. "The regular price la ninety five centa a yard, but." lowering bis voice and glancing about to make sure he was not overheard. "I will make It to yon at eighty cents." "F.lghty certs a yard for gingham!" gasped Mrs. Rounds "It Is Imported goods, Mr. Rounds," explained Mr. Famsworth. critically stroking the prtnt. "It wear like silk. We carry no domestic ging hams. Here Is on at eighty five cent and this one Is a dollar and ten a yard. That would make you a fine gown. Mr. Round. "lt't's go somewhere else. Samuel, . hispered hi mother. positively frightened, "t aa buy gingham In Taunton for eight cents a yard " "Wait a bit." said Sam reaur.ng!y. "What have ye got In s"k. Mr. Fams worth?" "We have a flee line of silks." re plied that gentleman, leading the way to another counter. "I should recom mend a hen j b!a k gro gram sl'.k for Mrs. Round. We have hi-m at ail prices Here It one at a doitor and a half a yard. He dltp'aiel a '!k worth at least three di.'.Iars a js.-l Tte u'.i lady looked r.txilr at t!ie g..y faSrlc The temptali n grt-t tut she c!oel her !',p firm!? ar.d put fs'an behttid her. " T much." Ss'.d ?rn dec'ive'y "We're cot rich r.er proud. Mr. Fares worth S;h. c e.,:n"-t!'.!a' cheaper " "Very We'l ll" Is one at a d 'Ut a yard, an I lo re It or.e whkh in a bargain " He tmruXed a .j:-rb. I.csir ,! (,f t;k. lua'roua lilac k and a delitl.t to the eye He examined the price n,atk rntii-ally. It told hltu t ! at the wholinaie root wa tour d l lsr a yard and the u;M-t retail fig ur four So!!ara Bn, venty five cent 'I csn let you haie that at eighty retita a yard." be said sfi.-r a mental call ;i!st!on "Now, yer gi'tln' down tew bust neas," Ham declared tentatively. "That's tew much, but It's more like It. What do yon think of the J. Ma Rounds? You'd took Itke 2 four year old In a gown made of that." "It a ery fine too fine fw me. I m afraid." She was weakening "And It's cheap. If It a real allk Is It really and truly silk?" She htoked timidly at Mr. Famsworth. who assured her It was allk beyond a doubt. (To be continued I TURNIP TMIM ALU DOWN. Culprit Evidently Not Impreased by Appearance of Lawyers. Secretary of the Treaaury l.e!le M Shaw told the following atory when he was In New York the other day of the lime he waa practicing taw In Iowa. One of his townsmen wa arraigned for a crime and had no counsel. The Judge explained to him that he waa titled to have eoumtel aaalgaed to him. He pointed out several attor neys In the courtroom, naming Ihem aa he did so. and sal.1 : ' Here are Mr. Ho and Ho and So and So. and Mr. Smith Is out In the cor ridor. You csn rhooae any one y.iu want aud I will aalgn him to defend you " The prisoner slowly looked the law yers In the coutir-xim ovr, one after the other, end then replied' "If It aulta your honor lust a well. I'd a soon have the one la the hall." New York Time. Wanted Home Industry. A wealthy Set tch Ironmaster cs!!ed on a country sipilre and was uhcred Into the library. He bad never seen such a room before, and was nnirli tmprcacd with the hanlaome rae and the array of wull houii volume that filled their shelves The next time he went to Glsagow he ma le a point of calling at a well known IxMik se'.ler's. when the following conversa tion Is reported to have taken place: "I want you to got me a leebrary." "Very well, Mr. ; lit be pleased to supply you with book Can you give me any list of such books aa you would like?" "Ye ken tnatr about bulk than I do, so you ran rhoo them yourlf." "Then you leave the election entirety to ma? Would you tike then bound la Rueeg or M rocooT" "Rossi of M onx-00 ? (' y no' get them bound la GUacv?" i