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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, March 16, 1916, LAST EDITION, Image 18

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1916-03-16/ed-1/seq-18/

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By Harold Carter
(Copyright, 1916, W. G. Chapman.)
Sim Lane was-the meanest man in
Colville. Though hg" came of a de
cent old family and had, in fact, had
the chance of going to college in his
youth, his father's impoverishment
seemed to have turned the wine of
life into vinegar for him. He set
tled down on what was left of the
farm and eked out a miserable exis
tence together with his slatternly
wife and daughter, who always
looked half starved.
It was a shame, everybody agreed.
His miserliness had grown on him
with age. The cottage was cold as
an icehouse in winter because he
burned fagots, picked up in the
woods, instead of coal. Mrs. Lane
looked more and more disreputable
and the daughter more hungry. He
was unpopular in the village and the
boys used to shout taunts after the
skulking figure.
A new barn had to be built, and,
after much haggling, Lane skimped
down the contractor to the lowest
figure for shoddy work. Then, to
save money, he set to and started on
the foundations himself. It was while
he was digging them dynamite be
ing an expense to which he would
not cater that his pick struck
something harder than earth and
more resonant than stone.
Presently Sim unearthed a metal
box, rusted with age. With trem
bling fingers he managed to get it
open. Inside was a linen bag, and
in the bag he found $8,000 in revolu
tionary era gold.
Nobody saw Sim make the discov
ery except two village boys who were
watching him furtively through a
crack in the fence. The story, spread
through the village, recounted that,
after the find, Sim sat down and ran
his fingers through the gold for half
an hour and more.
Everybody soon had news of the
treasure. For a week nobody saw
Sim Lane or his wife or girl, excep'
that the druggist fancied he had seer
the women hurry with averted faces
through the streets toward the de
pot one evening. However, a week
later there was a sensation in Col
ville. Mary Lane, looking ten years
younger, and Amanda, the girl,
walked quietly up the street toward
the church one Sunday. They we're
With Trembling Fingers He Managed
to Get It Open
dressed in decent clothes, there was
a gold bracelet on Amanda's wrist,
and they were altogether trans
formed. Youths who had never fa
vored Amanda Lane with a second
look stared after her. She was posi
tively beautiful.
A great sensation followed the
next day, when the local builder
called to excavate for the barn and

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