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£ 5Y LOWS CHAPTER IV. <CoNTiNrsD.» That same night the clerk entered upon a bout of drunkenness so con sistent as to surprise even his intimate acquaintances. He was speedily ejected from the boarding-house; deposited his portmanteau with a perfect stranger, who did not even catch his name; wan dered he knew not where, and was ,at last hove-to, all standing, in a hospital at Sacramento. There, under the im penetrable alias of the number of his bed, the crapulous being lay for some more days unconscious of all things, and of one thing in particular: that the. police were after him. Two irronths had come and gone before the conval escent in the Sacramento hospital was identified with Kirkman, the abscond ing San Francisco clerk; even then, there must elapse nearly a fortnight more till the perfect stranger could be hunted up, the portmanteau recovered, and John’s letter carried at length to Its destination, the seal still unbroken, the inclosure still intact. Meanwhile, John had gone upon his holidays without a word, which was ir regular; and there had disappeared with him a certain sum of money, which was out of all bounds of pallia tion. But he was known to be ca r eless, •nd believed to be honest; the manager besides had a regard for him; and lit tle was said, although something was no doubt thought, until the fortnight was finally at an end, and the time had come for John to reappear. Then, in deed, the affair began to look black; •nd when inquiries were made, and the penniless clerk was found to have •massed thousands of dollars, and kept them secretly in a rival establishment, the stoutest of his friends abandoned him, the books were overhauled for traces of ancient and artful fraud, and though none were found, there still prevailed a general Impression of loss. The telegraph waa set in motion; and the correspondent of the bank in Edin burgh, for which place it was under stood that John had armed himself with extensive credits, was warned to communicate with the police. < Now this correspondent was a friend of Mr. Nicholson's; he was well ac quainted with the tale of John’s calam itous disappearance from Edinburgh; and putting one thing with another, hasted with the first word of this scan dal, not to the police, but to his friend. The old gentleman had long regarded his eon as one dead; John’s place had been taken, the memory of his faults had already fallen to be one of those old aches, which awaken again indeed upon occasion, but which we can al ways vanquish by an effort of the will; and to have the long lost resuscitated In a fresh disgrace was doubly bitter. ! “Macewen,” said the old man, "this must be hushed up, if possible. If I give you a check for the sum, about which they are certain, could you take it oc yourself to let the matter rest?" / T will,” said Macewen. “I will take 'the risk of it.” 1 "You understand,” resumed Mr. Xicholson, speaking precisely, but with ashen lips. “I do this for my family, not for that unhappy young man. If it •hould turn out that these suspicions are correct, and he has embezzled large •urns, he must lie on his bed as he has made it.” And then looking up at Macewen with a nod, and one of his strange smiles: “Good-bye,” said he; and Macewen, perceiving the case to be too grave for consolation, took himself off, and blessed God on his way home that he was childless. » CHAPTER V. Y a little after noon the eve of Christ mas. John had left his portmanteau in the cloak-t'oom and stepped forth into Princes street with a wonderful expansion of the soul, such as men ! jz'ZsgxZO 1 IwW >9* t *(F enjoy on the com pletion of long ■ourished schemes. He was at home again, incognito and rich; presently he could enter his father’s house by means of the pass-key, which he had piously preserved through al) his wanderings; he would throw down the borrowed money; there would be a reconciliation, the details of which he frequently ar ranged; and he saw himself, during the next month, made welcome in many Btately houses at many frigid dinner parties, taking his share in the con versation with the freedom of the man and the traveler and laying down the jlaw upon finance with the authority of ftho successful investor. But this pro gram was not to bo begun before even- Eg — not till just before dinner, Indeed, , which meal the reassembled family ere to sit roseate, and the best wine, INTERNATIONAL PRESS ASSOCIATION. the modern fatted calf, should flow for the prodigal’s return. Meanwhile he walked familiar streets, merry reminiscences crowding round him, sad ones also, both with the same surprising pathos. The keen frosty air; the low, rosy, wintry sun; the castle, hailing him like an old ac quaintance; the names of friends on door-plates; the sight of friends whom he seemed to recognize, and whom he eagerly avoided, in the streets; the pleasant chant of the north country ac cent; the dome of St. George’s remind ing him of his last, .penitential mo ments in the lane, and of that King of Glory whose name tyad echoed ever sinep in the sad tie st porner of his memory; and the gutters where he had learned to slide, and the shop where he had trod, and the railings in which he had rattled his clachan as he went to school: and all those thousand and one nameless particulars, which the eye sees without noting, which the memory keeps indeed yet without knowing, and which, taken one with another, build up for us the aspect of the place that we call home: all these besieged him, as he went, with both delight and sad ness. His first visit was for Houston, who had a house on Regent’s Terrace, kept for him In old days by an aunt. The door was opened (to his surprise) upon the chain, and a voice asked him from within what he wanted. “I want Mr. Houston—Mr. Alan Houston,” said he. “And who are ye?” said the voice. “This is most extraordinary,” thought John; and then aloud he told his name. “Not young Mr. John?” cried the voice, with a sudden increase of Scotch accent, testifying to a friendlier feel ing. “The very same,” said John. And the old butler removed his de fenses, remarking only, “I thought ye were that man.” But his master was not there; he was staying, it appeared, at the house in Murrayfield; and though the butler would have been glad enough to have taken his place and given all the news of the family, John, struck with a little chill, was eager to be gone. Only, the door was scarce closed again, before he regretted that he had not ask ed about "that man.” He was to pay no more visits till he had seen his father and made all well at home; Alan had been the only pos sible exception, and John had not time to go as far as Murrayfield. But here he was on Regent’s Terrace; there was nothing to prevent him going round the end of the hill, and looking from without on the Mackenzies’ house. As he went, he recollected that Flora must now be a woman of near his own age, and it was within the bounds of possi bility that she was married; but this dishonorable doubt he dammed down. There was the house, sure enough; but the door was of another color, and what was this—two door plates? He drew nearer; the top one bore, with dig nified simplicity, the words, "Mr. Proud foot;” the lower one was more explicit, and informed the passer-by that here was likewise the abode of "Mr. J. A. Dunlop Proudfoot, Advocate.” The Proudfoots must be rich, for no advocate could look to have much busi ness in so remote a quarter; and John hated them for their wealth and for their name, and for the sake of the house they desecrated with their pres ence. He remembered a Proudfoot he had seen at school, not known; a little whey-faced urchin, the despicable mem ber of some lower class. Could it be this abortion that had climbed to be an advocate, and now lived in the birth place of Flora and the home of John's tenderest memories? The chill that had first seized upon him when he heard of Houston’s absence deepened and struck inw’ard. For a moment, as he stood under the doors of that estranged house, and looked east and west along the solitary pavement of the Royal Ter race, where not a cat was stirring, the sense of solitude and desolation took him by the throat, and he wished him self in San Francisco. And then the figure he made, with, his decent portliness, his whiskers, the money in his purse, the excellent cigar that he now lighted, recurred to his mind in consolatory comparison with that of a certain maddened lad who, on a certain spring Sunday ten years before, and in the hour of church time silence, had stolen from that city by the Glasgow road. In the face of these changes, it were impious to doubt fortune’s kindness. All would be well yet; the Mackenzies would be found, Flora, younger and lovelier and kinder than before; Alan would be found, and would have so nicely discriminated his behavior as to have grown, on the one hand, into a valued friend of Mr. Nich olson’s, and to have remained, upon the other, of that exact shade of jovlal- fty which John desired In his compan ions. And so, once more, John fell to work discounting the delightful future, his first appearance in the family pew, his first visit to his uncle Greig, who thought himself so great a financier, and on whose purblind Edinburgh eyes John was to let in the dazzling day light of the West; and the details in general of that unrivaled transforma tion scene, in which he was to display to all Edinburgh a por.ly and successful gentleman in the shoes of the derided fugitive. The time began to draw near when his father would have returned from the office, and it would be the prodigal’s cue to enter. He strolled westward by Albany Street, facing the sunset em bers, pleased, he knew r not why, to move in that cold air and indigo twi light, starred with street-lamps. But there was one more disenchantment waiting him by the way. At the corner of Pitt Street he paused to light a fresh cigar: the vesta threw, as he did so, a strong light upon his features, and a man of about his own age stopped at sight of it. “I think your name must be Nichol sdn,” said the stranger. It was too late to avoid recognition; and besides, as John was now actually on the way home, it hardly mattered, and he gave way to the impulse of his nature. “Great Scott!” he cried, “Beatson!” and shook hands with w’armth. It scarce seemed he was repaid in kind. “So you’re home again?” said Beat son.” Where have you been all this long time?” “In the States,” said John —"Cali- fornia. I’ve made my pile, though; and it suddenly struck me it would be a noble scheme to come home for Christ mas.” “I see,” said Beatson. “Well, I hope we’ll see something of you now you’re here.” “Oh, I guess so.” said John, a little frozen. “Well, ta-ta,” concluded Beatson, and he shook hands again and went. This was a cruel first experience. It was idle to blink facts; here was John home again, and Beatson —Old Beatson —did not care a rush. He recalled Old Beatson in the past —that merry and af fectionate lad—and their joint adven tures and mishaps, the window they had broken with a catapult in India Place, the escalade of the castle rock, and many another inestimable bond of friendship; and his hurt surprise grew deeper. Well, after all, it was only on a man’s own family that he could count; blood was thicker than water, he re membered; and the net result of this encounter was to bring him to the door step of his father’s house, with tenderer and softer feelings. The night had come; the fanlight over the dobr shone bright; the two win dows of the dining-room where the cloth w’as being laid, and the three win dows of the drawing-room where Maria would be waiting dinner, glowed soft ller through yellow blinds. It was like a vision of the past. All this time of his absence, life had gone forward with an equal foot, and the fires and the gas had been lighted, and the meals spread, at the accustomed hours. At the accus tomed hour, too, the bell had sounded thrice to call the family to worship. And at the thought a pang of regret for his demerit seized him; he remem bered the things that were good and that he had neglected, and the things that were evil and that he had loved; and it was with a prayer upon his lips that he mounted the steps and thrust the key into the key-hole. He stepped into the lighted hall, shut the door softly behind him, and. stood there fixed in wonder. No surprise of strangeness could equal the surprise of that complete familiarity. There was the bust of Chalmers near the stair railings, there was the clothes-brush in the accustomed place; and there, on the hat-stand, hung hats and coats that must surely be the same as he remem bered. Ten years dropped from his life, as a pin maytlip between the fingers; and the ocean and the mountains, and the mines, and crowded marts and mingled races of San Francisco, and his own fortune and his own disgrace, became, for that one moment, the fig ures of a dream that was over. 'TO BE COXTtMCBO.f Mmcolar Education. At a local school, during a reading lesson, the phrase ‘‘mental occupation” occurred. The teacher asked: “What is meant by mental occupation?” A pupil replied: “One in which we use our mind.” “And a manual occupation?” “One in which we use our hands." The teacher then said: “Now, which of these occupations is mine? Come, now, what do I use most in teaching you?” A knowing pupil quickly answered: “Your cane, sir.” —Answers. Too Trw*. Edith—“ Matches are made in heaven, Grace.” Grace—“ But on earth we make light of them.”—New York SOUTH DAKOTA I’ROSPEHOUS. More Money In the Hank« und nn Increase in Live Mock. The assessment returns on live stock show a decided Increase in the number returned for last year. The total num ber of cattle returned Is 95.%577 head, which is an increase of 143,512 over last year. These figures would appear to sustain the general belief that a large number of range cattle are estray about the time the assessor is on his rounds. The total returns of all coun ties west of the river is 222,661 head. The total number of sheep returned is 449,876, which is an Increase of 73,540 over last year. Qf this number 179,529 are returned from west of the river, Stanley county leading In number with 59,693, and Butte next with 27,226. The total number of horses returned is 351,596, an increase of 14,500. The west river counties return 56,652, but counties east of the river return a greater number than any of Uie west river counties, Brown leading with 13,- 751 and Minnehaha next with 12,692. The total number of hogs returned was 275,734, which is an increase of 26,358. Clay county leads with 24,120 and Hutchinson county is next with 21,073. Only 4,834 hogs are returned from west of the river, and about half of this number is from Gregory county. There has been a decided increase tn the amount of mines and credits which were dug up by the assessors this year. The total amount of this class of prop erty returned was $1,470,039, which Is an increase of $523,071 over last year's returns. Hutchinson county has re ported $158,045 and Yanton county $136,- 860. One of the peculiarities of the re turns on this class of property is that only $3,200 could be found in Lawrence county, one of the wealthiest counties In the state, while Hyde county, which is a small and exclusively granger county, shows up $5,000. In fact, about the only county In the state which could not did up more money and cred its than Lawrence was the little county of Buffalo, with only about four town ships within Its borders. The Increase on merchandise returned was $1,270,250, making the total $4,571,741. MITCHELL CORN PALACE. Arrn ngcmen tn Being Perfected’ to llnve One on a Larue Scale. The business men of Mitchell held a meeting recently and started the corn palace idea again for this year, the dates for thb same being Sept. 26 to Oct. 4. The soliciting committee made Its report showing that over $4,000 was on the guaranteed list. The immense corn crop in this county insures plenty of grain to cover the exterior of the building, and it is the idea to make it more prominent than the one eight years ago. N. L. Davison was elected secretary of the corn palace. W. J. Healey and T. J. Spangler were largely instrumental in securing the sum of money to carry out the palace idea. Negotiations were commenced by wire to-day for attractions for the palace. Indian Courtship. If a story regarding a Chow creek Indian maiden be true, then romantic fancies are a part of the red man’s life as well as that of his pale face brother. It has been the habit for years of a family of Crow Creek Sioux to go to Miller evry new moon and eamp on the creek near the slaughter house. From Sisseton agency north hrts also come with equal regularity a family of Sioux. It was supposed that the half-wajr meeting was for the purpose of swap ping dogs and comparing moccasins. It seems, however, that there is love tn the camp. A Crow Creek girl is wanted by a young Sisseton policeman. The maiden objects. The young officer has bribed the parents to meet his family every new moon on Turtle creek. The plan Is causing the dusky maiden to relent, and a wedding, so the story goes, win soon follow the long scheming courtship. To Meet at Tankton. The second week in September wiTl mark the holding of more state con ventions of various kinds in Yankton than any like period in the history of the town. Many of them are called there by the fact that the state fair is held there at that time, and they win contribute largely toward making that enterprise a success. The first of these state assemblies to meet will be the state eclectic physicians on the on the 12th the state bookkeepers meet in annual session, and the state flr»- men's association also convenes. On the evening of the 12th the members of El Riad temple of the Mystic Shrine will hold a reunion. The 13th wffi also be marked by the reunion of the mem bers of the First South Dakota Spanish war veterans and by the reunion of the survivors of the First Dakota cav alry, organized in 1662. Mate School of Mine*. The State School of Mine® la Rapid City will open with a larger attendance than ever. Two members ha\e been added to the faculty and a :>ew depart ment has been established The build ings have undergone repairs and the li brary has been enlarged by several hundred volumes. There remains still >SOO with which to pcrrrhase books. Charles F. Fulton, who will take charge of the department of mining engineer ing and metallurgy, rs a graduate of the Columbia School of Mines in New York city, and has. also been instructor at the State Unirersity of Wyoming. The other new member of the faculty is Prof. A. D. Humbert. who will take charge of the »ew commercial depart ment. Prof. Humbert In graduate of Seymour Katon’s F< ho l *f Business In Boston, and h?s h'»<’ sixteen, of expe.dcnce In scho ,1 wjtk. Onr Lvl Bln . e r Lord Sayvan-Do n" U utt‘ S . Ure Miss Sharpe-Nonsensp> wv. matter with “Hobo,” •uL fl What « the Dusty Roads,” and so rtnW Villie -” phia Press. n •" Husain's New < It is said that Kus"ial? ar ; adopt a new calendar. eJk about to tains 13 months of twentv COn ’ each. The main featuTe, V‘f? stability, and in this it res'-mhi W sovereign remedy. HostetterTs oi?’ Bitters. Try it for dysDensh aeh tlon, nervousness or insomuia. Be you get the genuine. ’Sure .*** IM«»ei»iin«to F David won t come to breakfast u»tn ae has read the morning pai>er. ' “Is he so eager for news?” "No; but he likes to find ionu»ki lismal to talk about while we are ng.”—lndianapolis Journal. Dent for the Bowels, No matter what ails yon, headvh. to a cancer, you will never get w "n until your bowels are put nJ* CASCARETS help nature, cure yj: without a gripe or pain, produce euy natural movements, cost you ju»t io cents to start getting your health back CASCARETS Candy Cathartic, the genuine, put up in metal boxes.’every tablet has C. C. C. stamped on it. ware of imitations. A Matter of Custom. “I can't see the justice,” said Tooler "In condemning the Mormons for driv ing their wives four-in-hand b»caus» we prefer to hitch ours tandem.'-! Smart Set. Hall’s Catarrh Cure Is taken internally. Price, 75c. We must be a military people, for every minor among in looks forward to becoming a major. Mrs. Winslow’s Mouthing Syrup. For children teething, soften* the gum*, reduc«f» dammatlon. allaj* pstn.cure* windcoilc. 25cabotua The bookworm oftimes seems to thrive on dry leaves. KIDHET TROUBLES OF WOMEI Miss FraderidVs Letters Show How Sh» Relied on Mrs. Pinkham and Was. Cared. “Dm Mrs. Ptammc:—-I have a yellow, muddy complexion, feel tired and have bearing down pains. Menses have not appeared for three months;, sometimes am troubled with, a white discharge. Also have kidney and blad der trouble. I have been this-way for a long time,, and feel so miserable I thought I would, write to you and see if you could do ma any good.”—Miss Edna. Ekbpebick* Troy, Ohio, Aug. 6,1899 i “ Dear Mrs. Pinkham; :--r have used! Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable Com pound according to directions, and can* say I have not felt so well for years as- Ido at present. Before taking your medicine a more miserable person you. never saw. I could not eat or sleeps and did not care t» talk with any ona Now I feel so well I cannot be grateful’ enough to you for what you have dona for me.”—Miss EdnaFbxdebick, Troy,, ©hioj Sept. 10, 1999. Backachar Cured “•Drar Mrs. Puikham I write to thank you for th* good Lydia E. Pink* ham’s Vegetable Compound has done M It is- the only medicine- I have found that helped ms. I doctored with one of the best physicians- in the city of New York, but received] no benefit. I had been ailing for about sixteen years, was so weak and nervous that I could hardly walk; had continued pain inmy back and was troubled, with leucorrhaa Menses were irregular and painful Words cannot express the benefit Lhave derived from the use of your medicine. I heartily recommend it to all suffering women.” Mrs. Mart BabshdwMi Windsor, Pa. 'S THEfAVORITEj Z< FOR MEDICINAL AM list. j L Sr f ISOLD BY DRUGCMTe AND DtAiX»O> »T.SAULt=S. B#flZ niH»CA*OL!S j v jwl Ej in Unas. Sold *y dr ?Tf > * t *'u ■ _ A . R- < * tor th e .trictiy a wt t h e resins gltion of a of the Grau anything an From mem labored at listening to fleers and < majority ol the parks lake, and th enough in t an invltatic the stock y Bel* than had 1 angle" at -bloody lai The convei and from pushed " it slon was e and was o] noon meet character. In the aft' u p was tii mittee. I generally ments. bu was not ii or recomi The comn length in done by tl talning fi Increases slons. It cnees of pension < the G. A. the old S' ficient coi at length have bee in reply 1 by mend offered n to be put printed i of busin to whicl journed. had pres were pr and Pai token of held by tee whl< sake of fler con of ail h tion of the dab to the the cor their r vention to Judi Candida dcr-ln-< tain tl first vc talk re encamj and Sa Ilumb Mila who k terday life in decide events the m He ad accom Altt the tr until took With celvet to hh see n his j; one i reali? Ing t! latloi ca. h Patei Lo port! as f<