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IN THE CLEARING" * A TALE OF THE NORTH COUNTRY IN THE TIME OF SILAS WRIGHT 3 / IRVING BACHELLER Author or EBEN HOLDEN. D'RI AND I. DARREL OP THE BLESSED ISLES, KEEPING UP WITH LIZZIE, ETC, ETC COrrUOMT HINTTHS OVtMTItN, ItVINO IaCHIUÂ BARTON RUNS AWAY AND MAKES THE ACQUAINTANCE OF SILAS WRIGHT, JR. Synopsis.—Barton Baynes, nn orphan, goes to live with hi* uncle, Peabody Haynes, and his Aunt Deel on a farm on Rattleroad, In n neighborhood called I.lckltyspllt, about the year 182(1. He meets Hally Dunkelberg, about his own age, hut socially of a class above the Bnyneses, nnd Is fascinated by her pretty face nnd fine clothes. Barton also meets Roving Kate, known In the neighborhood as the "Silent Woman." Atno* Grltnsliaw, a young son of the richest man In the town ship. Is a visitor at the Baynes home and Roving Kate tells the boys' fortunes, predicting a bright future for Burton and death on ttie gallows for Amos. CHAPTER II—Continued. "We'll draw him up on It—It won't hurt him any," he proposed. I looked at him In silence. My heart smote me, but I hadn't courage to take Issue with the owner of a silver watch. When the dog began to struggle I threw my arms about him and cried. Aunt Deel happened to he near. She came und saw Amos pulling at the rope and me trying to save the dog. "Come right down off'n that mow— thla minute," said she. When we had come down and the dog had followed, pulling the rope nfler him, Aunt Deel wuh pale with nnger. "Go right home—right homo," suld ahe to Amos. "Mr. Baynes aald that he would take me up with, the horses," suld Amoa. "Ye can use shanks' horses—ayes! —they're good enough for you," Aunt Deel Insisted, nnd so the boy went awny In disgrace. "Where are your pennies?" Aunt Deel said to me. I felt In tuy pockets hut couldn't find them. "Where did yo havo 'em last?" my aunt demanded. "On the haymow." "Oomo an' show me." We went to the mow and searched for the pennies, but not one of them could wo find. I remembered thut when I saw them Inst Amos hud them In Ills hand. •Tm awful 'frnld for him—ayes I he !" said Aunt Deel. "I'm 'frnld Rovin' Kate was right about him— uyos !" "What did sho say?" I asked. "That he was gotn' to be bung— ayes! You can't play with him no more. Boys that take what don't beloDg to 'em—which I hope he didn't —ayes I hope It awful—are apt to he hung by their necks until they are dead—Jest ns he was goln' to hang of Khep—ayes I—they are!" Uncle Peabody teemed to feel very bad when he learned how Amos had turned out. "Don't say a word about It," said he. "Mebbe you lost tho pennies. Don't tulud 'em." Soon after that, one nfternon, Aunt Deel came down In the field where we were dragging. While »he l V V to A y \\W! v W W, rV is 6? When the Dog Began to Struggle, I Threw My Arme About Him and Cried. was talking with Uncle Peabody an idea occurred to me. and the dog and t ran for the house. There was a pot of honey on the top shelf of the pantry and ever since I hud seen It put there I had cherished secret fie I ran Into the deserted house, and with the aid of a chair climbed to the first shelf and then to the next. and reached into the pan and drew out a comb of honey, and with no delay whatever It went to my mouth. Suddenly It seemed to mo that I had been hit by lightning. It was the sting of a bee. I felt myself go ing and made a wild grab and caught the edge of the pan and down we came to the floor—the pun und I— with n great crash. I discovered that I was In desper ate pain und trouble and I got to my feet and run. I didn't know where I was going. It seemed to me that any other place would he better than that. My feet took me toward the harn nnd I crawled under It and hid there. My lip began to feel bettor, by and by, but big and queer. It stuck out so that I could see It. I heard my ancle coming with the horses. I concluded that I would stay where I was, hut the dog canto nml snllTcd and barked at the hole through which I had crawled ns If saying, "Here ho Is!" My position was untenable. I came out. Bhep begun trying to clean my clothes with his tongue. Uncle Peabody stood near with the horses. He looked at me. He stuck Ids finger Into the honey on my coat anil smelt It. "Well, by—" ho stopped nnd came closer and asked. "What's happened?" "Bee stung me," I .answered. "Where did ye find so much honey that ye could go swlmiuln' lp It?" he asked. I heard the door of the house open suddenly and the voice of Aunt Deel. 'Teahody ; Peabody, come here quick," she Called, Uncle Peabody ran to the house, but I stayed out with the dog. Through the open door I heard Aunt Deel saying: "I cun't stau' U any longer and I won't—not another day— ayes, I can't stan' It. That hoy 1 r a reg'lar pest." They came out on the veranda. Un de Peabody said nothing, luit I could see that he couldn't stand It either. My bruin wns working fust, "Oonte here, sir," Unde Peabody called. I knew It was serious, for he had never called me "sir" before. I went slowly to the steps. "My Igird 1" Aunt Deel exclaimed. "Hook at that Up and the honey all over him—uyes ! 1 tell ye—I can't stun' It" "Suy, hoy, is there anything on this place that ye ain't tipped over?" Unde Peabody ualted In a sorrowful tone. "Wouldn't ye like to tip the house over?" I was near breaking down In this answer : "I went Into the but'ry nnd that pan Jumped on to me." "Didn't you taste the honey?" "No," I drew In toy breath and shook toy head. "Liar, too 1" said Aunt Dod. "I can't stnu' U an' I won't." • Uncle Peabody was sorely tried, but he was keeping down his auger. His voice trembled as he suld : "Boy, I guess you'll have to—' Uncle Peabody stopped. He had been driven to the last ditch, but he had not steppeil over It. However. I knew what he hud started to say and snt down on the stet«« In great de jection, my coat with Ills tongue. I think the sight of me must have touched the heart of Auut Deel. Sh«*p follow«*!, working ut mustn't be "Peabody lluynes, w< cruel," said she In a softer tone, nnd then she brought a rag und begun to assist Shop In the process of clean ing my coat. "Good land l He's got to atay bore— a y m 1—tie ain't got no other pluee to go to." "But If you can't stun' It," said Un cle Peabody. ''I've got to stan' U—ayes 1—I can't stan' It, but I've got to—ayest So have you." Auat Deel put me to bed although It was only Ore o'clock. Aa I Uy looking up at the shingles a singular resolution came to me. It was bora ot my longing for the companionship cf my kind and of my re »ent ment. .1 would go and live with the Dunkel bergs. I would go the way they had gene and find them. I knew it wae I a It to ten miles away, but of course every body knew where the Dunkelhergs lived and any one would show me. I would run and cot there before dark nnd tell them that I wanted to live with them and every day I would play with Sally Dunkelberg. Uncle Peabody was not half as nice to play with as she was. I heard Uncle Peabody dnve away. I watched him through the open win dow. I could hear Aunt Deel wash ing the dishes in the kltcheu. I got out of b<jd very slyly and put on my Sunday cltTihes. I went to the open tt'tmu-w. The «un had Just gone over the top of (he woods. I would have to hurry to get to the Dunkelbergs' before dark. I crept out ou the top of the shed nnd descended the lad der thut leaned against U. I stood a moment listening. The dooryard was covered with shadows and very still. The, dog must have gone with Uncle Peabody. I run through the garden to the road and down it as fast as my bare feet could carry me. In that direction the nearest house was ul raost a mile away. I remember I was out of breath, und the light was glowing dim before I got to It. I went on. It seemed to me that I had gone neurly far euough to reach my destination when I heard a buggy coming behlud me. "Ilello !" a voice culled. I turned und looked up at Dug Dra per, In a single buggy, drcsRed In his Sunday suit. "Is It much further to where the Dunkelbergs live?" I asked. "The Dunkelhergs? Who he they?" 1 .It seemed to me very strange that he didn't know the Dunkelhergs. "Where Sally Dunkelberg lives." That was a clincher. He laughed ; and swore nnd said: "Git in here, boy. I'll take ye ! there." I got Into the buggy, and he struck Ills horse with the whip nnd went gul lopltig away In the dunk. Uy and by we passed Rovin' Kate. I could Just discern her ragged form by the roadside nnd called to her. He struck his horse and gave me a rude shake nnd bade me shut up. It was dark and I felt very cold and began to wish myself home In bed "Ain't we most to the Dunkel hergs'?" I asked. "No—not yet," he answered. I hurst Into tears and he shook me roughly nnd shoved me down on the buggy floor nnd said : "You lay there und keep still; do yon hear?" "Yes," I sobbed. I lay shaking with fear and fight ing my sorrow and keeping ns still ns I could with It, until, wearied by the strain, I fell asleep. What befell me that night while I dreamed of playing with the sweet ftu-ed girl I have wondered often. Some time In the night Dug Draper had reached the village of Canton nnd got rid of me. He had prohuhly&pdt mo out at the water trough. Kind hands had picked me up nnd cnrrled me to a little veranda thut fronted !ho door of a law office. There 1 slept peacefully until duyllght, when I felt a hand on my face nnd awoke suddenly. I remember that I felt cold. A kindly fuced man was lean ing over me. "Hello, boy I" said he. "Where did you come from?" I was frightened nnd confused, but Ids gcntlu voice reassured me. "Uncle Peabody I" I culled, ob I arose nnd looked about me nnd be gan to cry. The man lifted me In his arms and held me close to his breast und tried to comfort me. I remember seeing the Silent Woman puss while I was lu his arms. of as my at So tle I Tell tue what's your name," ho urged. "Barton Baynes," I said us soon os I could speuk. "Where do you live?" "In LlckttyspUt." "How did you get here?" "Dug Draper brought me. Do you know where Sully Dunkelberg lives?" "Is she the daughter of Horace Dunkelberg ?" "Mr. aud Mrs. Horace Dunkelberg," I amended. "Oh, yes, I know her. Sully Is a friend of mine. We'll get some break fust und then we'll go and find her." He carried mo through the open door of his office and set me down at his desk. The cold air of the night had chilled me and I was shiv ering. "You sit there aud I'll have a fire going lu a minute und get you warm ed up." He wrapped me In his coot nnd went luto the buck room aud built a fire In a small stove and brought me In and set me down beside It. He made some porridge in a kettle while I sat holding my Uttle hands over the stove to wann them, and a seuse of com fort grew lu me. He dliqied some porridge Into bowls and put them ou a small table. My eyes hud watched him with gt-owlug Interest and I got to the table about us soon as the porridge and mounted a chair nnd seized a spoon. "One moment, Burt," said my host. "By jlugo! We've forgotten to wash aud you're face looks like the dry bed of a river. Come here a min ute." He led me out of the hack door, where there were n wash-stand and a pall and tin basin and a dish of soft soap. He dipped the pail In a rain barrel ami filled the basin, and 1 washed myself and waited not upon my host, but made for the table and began to eat, beiug very hungry, af ter hastily drying my face on a towel. In a minute he came and sat down to his own porridge and bread and butter. 1 t|. ; ? ! I 1 I When he hmJ finished eating he set aside the dishes and 1 asked : "Now could I go and see Sully Dun kelberg?" "What In the world do you want of Sully Dunkelberg?" he asked. "Oh, Just to play with her," I Raid as I showed him how I could sit on my hands and raise myself from the chair bottom. "Haven't you any one to play with at home?" "Only my Uncle Peabody." "Don't you like to play with him?" "Oh, some, hut he can't stand me any longer. He's all tired out, and my Aunt Deel. too. I've tipped over every single thing on that place. I tipped over the honey yesterday—• split It ull over everything and rooend my clothes. I'm a reg'ler pest. So I want to play with Sally Dunkel berg. I wnnt to play with her a lit tle while—Just a wee little while." "Forward, inarch!" suld he nnd away we started for the home of the Dunkelhergs. The vllluge Interested me Immensely. I had seen It only twice before. People were moving about In the streets. One thing I did not full to notice. Every man we met touched bis hut as he greeted my friend. It was a square, frame house—that of the Dunkelbergs —large for that village, and had a big dooryard with trees In It. As we came near the gate I saw Sally Dunkelberg playing with other children among the trees. Sud denly I was afraid and begun to hang . ï SUAS W LAWOFFIt ip v'Fj. Ï /, i ï, I -â Ihz . T, f ^3 N ^3 a X \ A Kindly Faced Man Was Leaning Over Me. back. I looked down at my bare feet and my clothes, both of which were <Ifrty. Sally and her friends had stopped their play and were standing In a group looking at us. I heard Sally whisper : "It's that Baynes boy. Don't he look dirty?" I stopped nnd withdrew my hand from that of my guide. "Come on, Bart," he said. I shook my head and stood looking over ut thut little, hostile tribe near me. "Go and play with them while I step into the house," he urged. Again I shook my head. "Well, then, you wait here a mo ment," said my new-found friend. He left me and I snt down upon the ground, thoughtful nnd silent. . In a moment my friend came out with Mrs. Dunkelberg, who kissed me, and asked me to tell how I happened to be there. "I Just thought I would come," I said as I twisted a button on tuy coat, nnd would say no more to her. "Mr. Wright, you're going to take him home, are you?" Mrs. Dunkel berg asked. "Yes. I'll start off with him In an hour or so," said my friend. "I am Interested In this boy and I want ts see his aunt and uncle." "Well. Sally, you go down to the of fice nnd stay with Burt until they go." "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" the man asked of me. "I don't know," I said. "That means yes," suld the man. Sally and another little girl came with us and passing a store I held hack to look at many beautiful things In n big window. "Is there anything you'd like there, Rnrt?" the man asked. "I wlsht I had a pair o' them shiny siloes with buttons on," I answered In a low, confidential tone, afraid to express, openly, a wish so extrava gant. "Come right In," he said, and I re member that when we entered the store I could hear my heart beatlug. He bought a pnlr of shoes for me and I would have them on at once, aud made It necessary for hint to buy a pair of socks also. After the shoes were buttoned on my feet I saw little of Sally Dunkelberg or the other people of the village, my eyes betug ou my feet most of the time. The man took us Into his office and told us to sit down uutil he could write a letter. ho os a the In sat My my to the a 1 af Barton gee« to town and again sees Sally Dunkelberg, but hie experience on thla oc casion is not eo pleasant as at their first meeting. His friend ship with the great Silas Wright, however, progresses more favor ably. (TO BB CONTINUED.) he . ï ' Father to the Man the ters In By ARCHEY CAMERON NEW (Copyright, 1918, by McClur« Newspaper Syndicate.) to was Is "Bosh, you dear little goose!" And then, having mildly rebuked her, Curter Danbury lenned over and tried to gather the dainty Uttle crea ture at his side Into his arms. Rut she wriggled away and faced him with a determined look In her big brown »yes. "I'm not a little goose," sbe retort ed, poutingly. "And father Is right. You're a man and politics Is a man's game, a man's duty. You ought to pitch In—you're a Itepubllcnn." "On election day," he admitted, "but ordinarily a pluin everyday business man. And I'm no speaker. I—I" "Thut's It," she took him up quickly. "You're afraid, Curter—please—for my sake. I've told him you're sensible, a fine man." Danbury frowned. "But," he argued, "denrest, I can't tnke orders. I don't like—" He hesi tated, feurful lest he might offend.this daughter of Colonel Reuben Thomas, the "big" boss. "I don't like being bossed. I don't like the petty artifices these—politicians resort to to get votes." "But It's necessary," she argued bnck. "There must be leaders." Danbury smiled. When Dorothy Tliomus looked like that she reflected I ma call It of every feature of her father's inflexible fuee, except his wrinkles. Danbury sought to soothe her, but to no avail. "Please, Carter," she persisted, "If you love me, try It. You—might like U." "All right," he gave in, and again lenned over towards her, this time to meet a delicious kiss full upon Ids lips. "But tnlnd now, all I'm to do Is to offer my services. I'll not be to blumfe If they refuse them and—I hope they will." A keen-eyed youngish old-man faced Curter Danbury the following morn ing across his flut-topped desk anti stroked his bristling white goatee, as he listened to the other attentively. They were closeted alone In the inner sanctum of the campaign headquarters of "William Westlake, the People's Choice for United States Senator." Then the "oracle" spoke. "So my daughter persuaded you, eh?" queried the Republican leader, severely. "See here, young man, you can't lake up this business as a fad. Once In love, you have to stick." Something In the colonel's tone stung Danbury to the quick and he leuned over the desk angrily. "I'm not a faddist. Colonel Thomas," he retorted hotly. "I've Just held aloof from politics because—well, because 1 wanted to keep my Independence, my ideals. But I'll stick." "Huh !" grunted the other. "I sup pose you realize I'm the party's lender?" "Yes," was Carter's smiling re joinder. "The papers have told me that much." "Well, they haven't told you all," shot buck the colonel. "I expect to have my orders obeyed." The colonel pushed u button and another man en tered the office. "Burke, this is Mr. Danbury. How are you fixed for speakers tonight at East End hall?" "Only yourself and Westlake so far," answered the other, respectfully. "Then put hint on, too," ordered the colonel, crisply. Then as the other re tired from the room, he turned again to Danbury. "Be there at eight. And mind, don't get rambunctious, young feller. Use diplomacy. There'll be a lot of foreigners there, and we wnnt to handle them gently. G'by." Carter Danbury was fuciug his first political audience, and yet he felt cooler than he had expected. He hud followed the candidate, Westlake, who now sat behind him, on the stage, with Colonel Thomas, wiping his perspiring brow and smirking grandiloquently at th* sea of upturned fuees. And much do Carter's surprise, as ho proceeded, he wus frequpntly applauded. This added to his courage and he now lean ed over to deliver his final philippic. "And, fellow Americans," he orated, "this is an American age. There can he no divided allegiance. We have come to the day when there shall be nn American race, an American nation —for Americans only. We shall pre serve our high Ideals sacredly, nnd to those who are not with us In spirit, I say, we say 'get out.' Mr. Westlake stands for the principle 'pass prosper ity around,' but we don't propose to pass It around the world. And we don't propose, therefore, to allow those men upon our shores who will accumu late n fortune here by the grace of our Institutions and then spread It abroad. To those who visit our shores with tlmt end In view, there can be but one greeting. 'Keep out.' " Danbury felt several tugs at hts coat from behind and. wheeling about, took the assembled politicians by sur prise. "You needn't pull my coot," he thun dered, then waved his hand towards the vast audience. "My remarks are Intended for Americans, and I know there Is not an American out there who doesn't echo that thought. And If there is one who Is not American present, I say to him 'get out.' Gen tlemen, I pledge our candidate to full support of true Americanism In con gress." Danbury turned to resume his seat and was struck with the angry tenor of the crowd oa the stage. What had to of Th*a What haa he dune, he left the hail, his cheerful he said? later, as farewell to Colonel Thomas was un swf»red by m surly grunt. The next morning he was still Kt sea when Dorothy informed him that her father had refused him admission to the house. He hurried to campaign headquar ters and was told Colonel Thomas couldn't see him—the committee was In session. "Where was he assigned speak that night?" he Inquired, and surprised to learn he was on the "Why?" he demanded. The to was blacklist. clerk couldn't tell him. Theo Danbury heatedly forced his way Into the com mittee room, and with blazing eyes confronted Colonel Thomas. "Colonel Thomas." he began, "what Is the trouble around here? What have I done?" done?" echoed "What have you Westlake at the other end of the room. You've ruined me. "Too blame much. After that fool speech of yours I'll bf lucky to get ten votes In the Fourth We're spending a thousand district. dollars today to deny your state ments." "To deny your Americanism?" de pded Carter, and he now turned wrathfully towards the candidate, "Why not call a spade a spade? See here, you call yourself statesmen. You're afraid to ac ma I call you traitors, knowledge the country who gave you birth, who gives you a living, t>.' back It up to the full, just because it might You're yellow—yel lose you votes, lower than those poor people whose They're Americans votes you're after. —every one of them. And they're glad of It. They, or their forbears came to this country to seek liberty, to seek the right to live and enjoy our freedom And now they're proud of It—they, who have been here months—while you, who have enjoyed those rights all your lives, and your people before you, haven't courage enough to protect the country that protects you. Who's the worse—they with their hopes, their Ideals, or you who turn your backs upon the hopes and Ideals your fore fathers fought for and left to your keeping? Where's your Americanism —the Americanism of courage, of de cency, of truth? And now, Colonel Thomas, you didn't want me to enter this campaign—afraid I wouldn't stick. But I'm just beginning to see my duty —I want to stick—I demand the right to stick. And I call upon the members of this committee to sustain me with their votes. Do I get them—or not?" At the end of the table a tall, white haired old man. who stroked his brist ling white goatee, rose and rapped fot order. Then he bent his full gaze on Danbury. "You do," he answered, sharply, and then the corners of his mouth quiv ered. "Gentlemen of the committee, the son again Is father to the man. 1 was the one who pulled his coat last night, and I rise with shame to ac knowledge it. Either we're Americans, or we're God only knows what—and 1 prefer the former." He turned to Dan bury. "Years back, suh, my grand father's father gave him his swo'd. 'Keep this, my son,' says he, 'an nevah use It except foah two pur poses, eithah t' kill some beastly ene my, or t' kill yoself foah not doin' It.' An' If I had that swo'd now, suh, I'd feel mighty tempted t' use it on my self. But I'll do th' next best thing." He turned again to the committee. "Gentlemen, I move th' committee ex tend a rtsin' vote of Invitation to V5uab friend, Mr. Danbury, Mr. Carter Dan bury—American, t' speak at th' big meetln' at th' Academy tonight. What'a youah pleasuah?" As the members of the committee rose to their feet, en masse, the colonel turned his back on them and motioned to Danbury to come to him. "You've seen th' vote, Carter," he whispered, laying his hands affection ately on the young man's shoulder. "And you know what It means. But," and his voice sank lower still, "come up t' th' house t' dinner before you go, Dorothy—might like to have you." How to Test Colors. If the color Is solid or with UttU white ple.lt a sample of It with a strip of white material. Make a strong soap solution. Have It warm but not hot Rub and squeeze the goods In this for ten minutes. Rinse In cold water, let It dry. If the color holds fast, th« water not colored and the strip ot white not stained one may be pretty sure of the color. To test for light expose a piece of material, In both a wet nnd dry condition, to strong sun light for a week. If the goods do not show signs of fading It Is reasonably sure they will not do so. If you waul various colors for a cotton small expense use Easter egg dyes. rug at Bomb-Dropping Balloons. The first bomb-dropping ballooua were humble enough and equally fu tile. Balloons had been used In as early as the siege of Maubeuge by the Austrians for observation purposes The first talk of bomb dropping In 1812, when the Russians were suld to have a huge balloon for that pose, but nothing was done with it however, the Austrians, when attacking Venice, sent up paper fire balloons, which were to drop shell* Into the town. But they forgot to al low for contrary air currents, ballons got Into one, drifted back to ward the Austrians and bombed them Instead of Venice. vVHI was pur in 1847. lt,. Where Did Ha Get It? Fiatbush— Did you hear about Bush wlck? Bensonharst—No ; what? "He's In trouble with the govern ment.'' "No; reallyr "Tee; It got reported around that he was eating too mach."