THE SINS OF 
 THE FATHERS 
 
 MARY E HYDE 
 
 JiU 
 
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 V 01XX/VKVOLAJL\ ^ 
 si
 
 THE SINS 
 OF THE FATHERS 
 
 BY 
 MARY E. HYDE 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 SHERMAN, FRENCH <& COMPANY 
 1914
 
 Ill I '1O 
 
 1(1 /ll .H Y >!/.!/. 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1914 
 SHERMAN, FRENCH &> COMPANY
 
 TO THE MEMORY OF MY SON 
 FREDERICK JOSEPH HYDE 
 
 WHO PASSED INTO HIS ETERNAL REST 
 
 NOVEMBER TWENTY-EIGHTH. NINETEEN HUNDRED ONE 
 
 IN THE TWENTIETH YEAR OF HIS AGE 
 
 THIS VOLUME IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 IHAPTEB PAGE 
 
 I THE HEIR OF COLE & COMPANY . . 1 
 
 II FATHER AND SON 28 
 
 III CROSS WINDS . . . ,5,,..^ . i . . 88 
 
 IV THE MYSTERIOUS SHOT .... 55 
 
 V THE ARREST . . *.i tt $> ... 71 
 
 VI AN UNEXPECTED CALL >.., .< . . 89 
 
 VII NELL STANTON : .j,.^ 4 l. .<^| . ! .< .* 108 
 
 VIII THE TRIAL 123 
 
 IX ROBERT TAKES UP His BURDEN . . 134 
 
 X DICK GETS A CHANCE 147 
 
 XI DR. ST. JOHN DECIDES TO STAY . .165 
 
 XII THE DOCTOR HAS A PATIENT THRUST 
 
 UPON HIM 181 
 
 XIII A PLEASANT HOUR 204 
 
 XIV RUTH MEETS DR. CRAIG . . . .215 
 XV RUTH'S CONQUEST 229 
 
 XVI THE HARVEST FESTIVAL .... 245 
 XVII ROBERT MAKES A PACT WITH THE DE- 
 TECTIVE 269 
 
 XVIII THE STRIKE ....... 289 
 
 XIX MARK TO THE RESCUE . . 304
 
 CHAPTEB PAGE 
 
 XX ROBERT RECEIVES A CALL FROM NELL 
 
 STANTON 819 
 
 XXI THE MYSTERY is SOLVED .... 341 
 
 XXII NELL STANTON'S LAST SACRIFICE . 360 
 
 XXIII GRANDMA BENT'S CALL .... 373 
 
 XXIV THE ARREST . ." 391 
 
 XXV NEW SCENES 414 
 
 XXVI JETHRO'S STORY . V^'i ' . . ! . 429 
 
 XXVII JETHRO'S STORY (Continued) . . 452 
 
 XXVIII JETHRO'S STORY (Concluded) . . 468 
 
 XXIX THE MAN WITH THE CANDLE . . . 491 
 
 XXX ANOTHER SURPRISE 510 
 
 XXXI RUTH'S RETURN 530 
 
 XXXII THE DENOUNCEMENT . 549
 
 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS
 
 CHAPTER I 
 THE HEIR OF COLE & COMPANY 
 
 The shrill whistle of Cole & Company's foundry 
 had screeched forth its regular Saturday after- 
 noon's respite from toil. The great wooden doors 
 and gates had been swung open; and a throng of 
 hurrying operatives were jostling each other in 
 their eagerness to pass the confines of the prison- 
 like enclosures. Though tired after their week's 
 labor, the men laughed and chatted and bandied 
 each other with all the jocundity of fair-day rol- 
 lickers; and despite their weariness, appeared 
 happy and contented as they poured out of the 
 numerous workshops into the large rectangular 
 yard, about which the buildings were grouped, 
 thence under the arch, past the office window, and 
 out into the village square. 
 
 In the dingy office, on a high stool in front of 
 a higher desk, behind the rail that marked the line 
 of privacy of the official head of the industrial 
 plant of Cole & Company, sat Mark Gibson, the 
 confidential clerk. Though the clock had struck 
 twelve, Mark Gibson was still busy. As a matter 
 of fact, he was seldom, if ever, otherwise. He 
 had a habit of working early and late, in season
 
 2 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 and out of season ; a habit which led his enemies 
 to remark that " Mark Gibson was too busy to 
 get up a speaking acquaintance with himself." 
 This, however, was not true in any sense of the 
 word; for Mark Gibson knew not only himself 
 and his capabilities, but he knew every mother's 
 son of the four hundred workmen who passed in 
 and out of the foundry every day. Moreover, he 
 had a vein of good-fellowship in his make-up that 
 panned out wonderfully well when struck with 
 the right pick. 
 
 Just at this time, however, he was busy. He 
 seemed to be even more absorbed than usual in 
 the long rows of black figures on the white page 
 of the ledger, up and down which his eyes ran with 
 lightning-like rapidity, his eyes and right hand 
 moving together with a precision truly wonder- 
 ful, and hardly ever seen except in some skillfully 
 constructed automaton. 
 
 The office door opened and a young man en- 
 tered; but Mark neither raised his eyes nor 
 changed his position. He was too methodical and 
 well-trained to be disturbed by the opening or 
 the shutting of a door, or by the entrance of any 
 person short of Cole & Company himself. 
 
 The young man sauntered to the side window 
 overlooking the passageway through which the 
 workmen were pouring, and stood with his hands 
 thrust idly in the pockets of his trousers. There 
 was a curious gleam in his eyes, half envious, half 
 savage, as he watched the men fill the archway
 
 THE HEIR OF COLE & COMPANY 8 
 
 that lay between the office and the high, solid 
 walls of the opposite buildings. Great, big, 
 strapping fellows they were, every one of them, 
 with muscles like iron, and eyes that shone like 
 stars through the grime of honest toil in their 
 faces. His eyes moved with the crowd as it swept 
 through the gateway and then branched off in 
 various directions. The fascination of moving 
 bodies was upon him. This could be seen by the 
 way his eyes followed the different branches of 
 that stream of humanity until each stream in 
 turn diverged. Then his eyes would sweep back 
 to the shadowy archway, only to be carried out 
 to the dividing lines as before. 
 
 At last the main body had passed out and only 
 the stragglers remained. As it was the mass, 
 and not the individuals which had power to hold 
 his attention, he turned away and walked over to 
 the front window, from which he had an open 
 view, not only of the village square, but also of 
 the principal roads and by-streets that radiated 
 from it. 
 
 As he glanced across the open square he 
 started; for his eyes rested on a vision of pink 
 and white muslin, which at that moment came 
 fluttering down the steps of the solitary dry- 
 goods store of the village. A deep blush mounted 
 to his white temples and shot up into the very 
 roots of his dark hair. Turning half round, he 
 cast a furtive glance at Mark ; and finding that 
 paragon of industry still deep in the intricacies
 
 4 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 of his accounts, and being satisfied that he had 
 seen neither the start, the blush, nor yet the ob- 
 ject which had caused the same, the young man 
 ventured another look across the street. But 
 alas, the vision had vanished under the hood of an 
 old-fashioned carryall ; and the carryall, with its 
 precious burden, was rolling away at a lively 
 speed. A shadow settled on his face as he watched 
 the receding vehicle. When it had passed beyond 
 his sight, he turned away from the window with 
 a despondent air, flung himself into a chair, and 
 tilted it back against the wall. 
 
 " A man never knows the perversity of fate 
 until he runs up against some problem in life that 
 affects his own existence ! " 
 
 The words had a savage ring. As he finished 
 speaking, the young man elevated his feet and ad- 
 justed them comfortably on the office table, and 
 began to puff clouds of delicately perfumed smoke 
 from a cigar which all the while he had held 
 lightly between his white teeth. 
 
 Mark Gibson glanced over the rail with a quiz- 
 zical look in his eyes and laughed. 
 
 " Well, if that isn't rich ! Never knew you had 
 any problems of existence to run up against ! " 
 Then his eyes reverted to the page and coursed 
 rapidly up and down as before. 
 
 " Nonsense, Mark ! " replied the young man, 
 taking the cigar from between his lips and balanc- 
 ing it daintily between his fingers as he flipped the 
 ashes from the end ; " every man has the problem
 
 THE HEIR OF COLE & COMPANY 5 
 
 of his own existence to work out for himself ; and 
 sooner or later he finds it out." 
 
 Mark raised his eyes and, with a dubious stare, 
 rested them for an instant on the handsome face 
 of the speaker ; but he made no comment. This 
 seemed to nettle the young man ; for he immedi- 
 ately went on to explain. 
 
 " Now, what I mean by existence, Mark, is not 
 a mere continuity of being. It is vastly more. It 
 is the development of that higher consciousness 
 of a living personality which is preeminently one's 
 own ; a personality which should be rated above 
 money and above price. A man of means may ex- 
 ist with very little exertion on his own part. He 
 has only to eat, drink, and be merry; take things 
 as they come, and drift with the tide. But that 
 is not existence in its true significance; at least, 
 not for man. Not that I would depreciate the 
 value and the necessity of the material things 
 which affect life so powerfully on all sides," he 
 hastened to add, " I only say the mere enjoyment 
 of them does not constitute all of living; and this 
 incessant grind kept up by some men for the mere 
 sake of hoarding up riches for the selfish pur- 
 pose of being called rich, is the bane of mankind. 
 There is that within man, if he would but heed 
 it, which calls for something higher and nobler 
 than this materialism offers ; but so illusive is this 
 intangible something, this unknown quantity, 
 which is so essential to the proper working out of 
 life's most delicate problems, that we, poor, mis-
 
 6 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 guided mortals, are as likely as not to switch off 
 at a wrong tangent just as we have reached a most 
 vital point in our existence, and thereby upset 
 our best laid calculations." 
 
 " Vital point? " repeated Mark in his thin, pip- 
 ing voice from over the top of his ledger, as if 
 the idea conveyed in those two words was the 
 only one from the young man's dissertation that 
 had lodged in his plodding brain. 
 
 " Oh, there's a vital point all right," affirmed 
 the young man, blowing a whiff of smoke from 
 between his half-closed lips, " and sooner or later 
 in life every man runs up against it in one form 
 or another. It may mean much or little to the 
 man, according to his tendencies or his environ- 
 ments. For instance, the son of a rich man may 
 reach a point where he must decide for himself 
 whether he will cut loose from conventionality 
 and plunge headlong into the maelstrom of inde- 
 pendence where at least he can have a chance to 
 show what's in him, or whether he will remain in 
 the lap of ease, a slave of traditions and false 
 standards. This is the point for him that tests 
 the metal in his soul ; for he knows, if he has 
 thought anything about the matter, that if he 
 takes the plunge and fails to make good, he stands 
 an equal chance of coming to the surface again 
 in the guise of either a saint or a devil." 
 
 Mark had suspended his work for the moment 
 that he might the better follow the trend of the 
 speaker's mind.
 
 THE HEIR OF COLE & COMPANY 7 
 
 " So far so good," he replied, elevating his 
 brows in a comical attempt to look serious as he 
 perked his face above the rail ; " but now tell us, 
 pray, what pranks the saints or the devils have 
 been playing on you to call forth this strain of 
 summer philosophy ! " 
 
 " Oh, there are many things in this humdrum 
 old world to set one's fancy agog," he answered, 
 as he watched a slender spiral of white smoke 
 curl upward and melt into air ; " and while I was 
 not thinking of myself when I spoke, yet I might, 
 and perhaps with profit, contrast my cut and 
 dried prospects in life with the opportunities open 
 to him who first evoked my train of thoughts." 
 
 Mark ga,ve a low whistle, which was his usual 
 way of giving vent to his overcharged feelings. 
 
 " Perhaps you have reached the vital point in 
 your existence?" he half questioned, half sug- 
 gested. 
 
 " If you had put it * a vital point ' rather than 
 * the vital point ' I might plead guilty," he re- 
 plied languidly, while a dreamy expression stole 
 into his eyes. 
 
 Mark had finished his ledger accounts and was 
 straightening out a pile of letters and other 
 papers and filing them neatly away in a large red 
 book. He looked over the rail with a droll smile. 
 
 " I accept your indefinite article, if it so 
 please you ; but for the life of me, I fail to see 
 where a healthy young fellow like you, facing such 
 brilliant prospects in life, can have more than one
 
 8 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 vital point of existence at this time of day; and 
 in the natural order of the universe that point 
 should be his stomach. A piping good dinner 
 and a cool tenner in his vest pocket would be the 
 acme of happiness for most young men at the 
 present moment." 
 
 " That is where most young men make their 
 mistake, in always thinking, as I said before, of 
 the material things of life only in their search 
 for happiness. Is it not written ' that man shall 
 not live by bread alone'? Then why should he 
 confine himself solely to a struggle for meat and 
 money ? " 
 
 " Because in this practical world a man can do 
 dashed little without money and much less with- 
 out meat," answered Mark dryly. 
 
 " That is another of man's fallacies ; at least, 
 so far as the money applies ; for a man can do 
 a great deal without money if he goes about it in 
 the right way. Money is oftener a check than 
 a spur in the pursuit of what is best in this life. 
 Of course, just how much a man can get out 
 of life without money will depend somewhat on 
 what he puts into it of his natural assets, such 
 as health, strength, and energy. It will also de- 
 pend somewhat on the path he takes when he 
 reaches his first treacherous crossroad with its 
 puzzling sign-board pointing in so many direc- 
 tions to the goal of man's main desire, happi- 
 ness." 
 
 He removed the cigar from his lips, held it up,
 
 THE HEIR OF COLE & COMPANY 9 
 
 and gazed at the pile of white ashes at the end 
 with the satisfaction of a connoisseur. 
 
 Mark closed the book with a bang, slid down 
 from the high stool, walked over to the table, 
 and seated himself jauntily on the edge. One 
 foot rested on the floor, the other swung loosely 
 between the two supports. He sat for a moment 
 silently contemplating the dreamy face before him. 
 At last he said, 
 
 " Robert, this is getting intensely interesting 
 to me. Evidently you have arrived at one of 
 those crossroads and are endeavoring to decipher 
 the sign." 
 
 " Oh, the sign is plain enough in my case. On 
 one hand, it points to mammon ; on the other, to 
 humanity. It is the choice that puzzles me." 
 The remark was punctuated with another long 
 whiff of white smoke. 
 
 For some moments there was a dead silence in 
 the room except for the ticking of the great ma- 
 hogany clock in the corner. For once Mark was 
 baffled. The two men sat facing each other, one 
 apparently absorbed in the hazy clouds of smoke 
 emitting from between his partly closed lips, the 
 other intently studying the far-away look in the 
 eyes of the smoker. 
 
 Mark Gibson was on the shady side of fifty, 
 and looked older by ten years. He had grown 
 old in the service of his employer. The signs 
 of close application to business were visible in 
 both face and form. Tall and slender nature had
 
 10 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 designed him to be. He might have measured six 
 feet had he ever straightened up long enough to 
 be measured properly; but the intensity with 
 which he had plied his calling had developed an 
 habitual stoop of his narrow shoulders and a 
 sunken chest, which took several inches from his 
 height, besides giving him the appearance of a 
 consumptive. His long, cadaverous face, hollow 
 cheeks, and small glittering eyes, added still 
 further to one's first impression that Mark Gib- 
 son was a man of delicate constitution. But far 
 from it ! He was tough and wiry ; he could out- 
 last, so far as endurance was concerned, any two 
 ordinary men of more robust appearance. It was 
 his boast that for forty years he had never missed 
 an hour from his post of duty at the office of Cole 
 & Company. And it was proverbial that Mark 
 Gibson's strict attention to business and to the 
 interests of his firm played no small part in the 
 piling up of the millions of Richard Cole of Cole- 
 ville. 
 
 The younger man, Robert Cole, was in looks, 
 speech, and bearing an aristocrat. There was no 
 mistaking that indelible grace, the stamp of cul- 
 ture, which marked his every movement. Being 
 the only son of Richard Cole, he was listed as 
 heir to one of the largest fortunes in New Eng- 
 land, a fortune which had been earned and was 
 still accumulating under the joint management of 
 Cole & Company, and his confidential clerk, Mark 
 Gibson. Nature as well as Fortune had smiled
 
 THE HEIR OF COLE & COMPANY 11 
 
 benignantly on him, and had endowed him with 
 strength and symmetry of limb and sufficient good 
 looks to satisfy even his masculine vanity. In 
 height he stood a little above the medium, straight 
 as an arrow, with firm-knit, well-rounded limbs 
 that bore the impress of the trained athlete. His 
 features were regular, pure Grecian in profile; 
 eyes, hazel, large and dreamy ; while his complex- 
 ion was such as might have been envied by the 
 most consummate of coquettes. 
 
 From early boyhood Robert Cole had been ac- 
 customed to steal into the office and reveal his in- 
 most heart to this trusted clerk of his father. 
 Those were the days when Robert was struggling 
 to assert his identity as a boy, and Mark's secret 
 sympathy was a bulwark of strength to his young 
 soul. Later, when his boyish pranks got him in- 
 to any sort of scrape, off he would rush to Mark ; 
 and Mark's tactful resources never failed to extri- 
 cate the young scapegrace from his dilemma. In 
 consequence of this, a kind of idolatrous friend- 
 ship had grown up between them ; and though the 
 stealthy visits had long since ceased, this old 
 friendship was still strong in the heart of each, 
 and on the part of Robert the confidence then 
 won remained still unshaken. 
 
 And here he was again, man grown, fresh from 
 college, enveloped in a visionary atmosphere 
 which his old friend had thus far failed to pierce, 
 bidding for the old-time sympathy. 
 
 " I don't quite catch the drift of your mean-
 
 12 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 ing, Rob," said Mark in a serious tone, breaking 
 the silence at last. " You surely don't mean that 
 you are contemplating taking orders and becom- 
 ing one of those cold, austere, long-visaged imita- 
 tions of Rome that have recently been introduced 
 into the church ! " 
 
 Robert looked at him and laughed outright. 
 
 " Not quite so bad as that, Mark," he replied 
 when he had regained his composure. " But I 
 have been thinking, and seriously, too, of kick- 
 ing over the traces and snapping the golden bits 
 that have led and curbed me ever since I was 
 born. I want to be free, free to work out my 
 own destiny. You don't understand, Mark, how 
 a rich man's son is hampered. From his birth he 
 is hedged in with conventionalities that not only 
 tend to blunt his sensibilities to the suffering in 
 the world, but also to retard his development as 
 a human factor in the working out of God's great 
 plan of cosmic splendor. If he happens to be 
 weak, or of a non-resistant nature, and possessed 
 of a fair amount of man's innate vanity and fond- 
 ness of dress, he is likely, under the tutelage of his 
 mother or sisters, to develop into a coxcomb." 
 He paused. 
 
 " Go on ! " urged Mark, making a desperate ef- 
 fort to stifle the smile which twinkled at the cor- 
 ners of his eyes. 
 
 " On the other hand," continued Robert after 
 a momentary silence, " if he happens to be strong 
 and vigorous and shows any desire to work, he
 
 is ridiculed and told that work is vulgar and de- 
 grading. He must check the cravings of his own 
 soul to be like other men in order to dance at- 
 tendance on a set of frivolous women. Long be- 
 fore he is out of his teens, he is paraded before 
 a parcel of manoeuvring mammas or ancient 
 aunties with a view to matrimony. By and by, 
 if he does not prove himself an ingrate for all 
 the attention that has been showered upon him 
 by his women folks, he is married off per sched- 
 ule; and is thereafter known as the husband of 
 Mrs. So-and-so. His candle is snuffed out in a 
 twinkling; and he finds himself sans name, sans 
 ambition, sans everything worth living for, and 
 ends up either a sot or a fool." 
 
 His cigar having burned low and gone out dur- 
 ing his remarks, he pitched the stub into a bronze 
 receptacle on the table, and producing another 
 from a gold case which he drew forth from the 
 inside pocket of his coat, proceeded leisurely to 
 light it. 
 
 Mark had listened attentively, and with a 
 curious smile twitching at the corners of his 
 mouth, had watched him closely. When he fin- 
 ished speaking, Mark remained silent for some 
 seconds, as if pondering what to say. His face 
 gradually resumed its habitual lines of gravity, 
 and his brow wrinkled into a little thoughtful 
 frown. At last he said rather quietly, yet with a 
 tinge of rebuke in his voice: 
 
 " That is not true in your father's case, Rob,
 
 14 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 for he has a name in the business world that any 
 man might be proud of." This was not exactly 
 what he meant to say ; but the tongue, being ever 
 an unruly member, often works quicker than the 
 mind, and not infrequently to better advantage. 
 So it proved here. 
 
 "That is just the point, Mark!" exclaimed 
 Robert enthusiastically. " My father made his 
 own fortune, as I believe every man should do ; 
 and he is free to use it as he sees fit. He mar- 
 ried the woman of his choice and there was no 
 one to say him nay. But here am I, a great, 
 healthy creature, weighted down by my father's 
 money bags. You know how I was brought up. 
 When I was a child I was treated more like a 
 wax doll than a human being. I was too precious 
 a bit of clay to be allowed to mingle with the vil- 
 lage children. I could neither speak to them nor 
 look at them except, forsooth, to look down 
 on them. I never knew what play was until 
 Frank and Ruth Bent came into my life, and you 
 know how that ended." 
 
 The last sentence was uttered with a tincture 
 of bitterness, while a shadow of resentment flitted 
 across his face. He paused but an instant and 
 then went on. 
 
 " At school and college the same persistent over- 
 sight followed me like an evil shadow, while my 
 holidays have been but a hideous nightmare. 
 And the end is not yet, unless I become des- 
 perate and end it. All that is expected of me is
 
 THE HEIR OF COLE & COMPANY 15 
 
 to take my quarterly allowance without question; 
 dress ; look happy ; and spend my time angling 
 for the hand of a daughter of some old family 
 of prestige, so that through my marriage our 
 family may drop into the social swim and bob up 
 serenely on the top wave of society where they 
 can make a spatter under the buoyancy of Dad's 
 millions. Oh, I despise the whole sham bat- 
 tle!" 
 
 He began to puff vigorously at his cigar as he 
 finished speaking. Mark looked him over with a 
 mixture of curiosity and admiration beaming from 
 his faded blue eyes. 
 
 " I say, Rob," he asked after a moment's si- 
 lence, waving aside a cloud of smoke, " what 
 genius has had the power to set your mental 
 faculties to evolving, out of smoke as it were, 
 these problems of existence, as you are pleased to 
 call them? " 
 
 Robert carried his eyes up to a level with 
 Mark's face as he replied: 
 
 " If you mean to ask of whom I was thinking 
 when I began, my answer is Frank Bent. You 
 knew Frank; and you know what a big, whole- 
 souled fellow he was. I ran across him at col- 
 lege last winter and found him more interesting 
 than ever." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha ! " laughed Mark ironically, giv- 
 ing his leg a resounding slap. " Frank Bent, our 
 old pink of perfection ! has he really turned up 
 again ? "
 
 16 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " Come, come, Mark, you are too hard on 
 Frank ! " pleaded Robert with a frown. 
 
 " No, Rob, it is you who are too soft on him," 
 returned Mark, shaking his head solemnly, as if 
 in warning of some hidden danger. " Oh, yes ; 
 I remember him very well," he continued in a 
 reminiscent strain. " His head was always full 
 of schemes for the regeneration of mankind. 
 According to his ideas, the whole world needed 
 overhauling, and he was the one man designed by 
 the Lord to do the job; and he meant to do it 
 and to do it up brown, too. I suppose he still 
 has the job in hand, hey? " There was a depth 
 of sarcasm in his tone which Robert saw fit to 
 ignore. 
 
 " Frank sees great need on all sides for social 
 reform ; and he certainly has confidence in his own 
 powers for just that kind of work." 
 
 " Exactly ! " said Mark, nodding his head in 
 acquiescence. " Let me see, it must be six 
 years since Frank left here to begin his social 
 upheaval in pastures new. What has he been 
 doing all these years ? " 
 
 " Studying, lecturing, and writing on his favor- 
 ite subject, sociology. He has just completed a 
 special course in Harvard." 
 
 " Lecturing and writing," repeated Mark medi- 
 tatively. " Strange we have never heard of him 
 or his work in all these years." 
 
 " Nevertheless, Frank is considered a mighty 
 bright fellow," championed his friend, " and he
 
 THE HEIR OF COLE & COMPANY 17 
 
 has already received some very flattering notice 
 from quarters where brain and courage count for 
 something. He expects to be ordained in the 
 fall." 
 
 " That may be," replied Mark in disparaging 
 tones, " but I'll wager that Frank Bent will never 
 start an earthquake with his push nor set the 
 universe aflame with his genius. As I recall him, 
 there's a streak of his grandfather Dale in him." 
 Then abruptly changing his manner and fixing 
 his eyes on Robert's face, he asked, " Just how 
 far has he enlisted your sympathy in his schemes 
 of regenerating the world? " 
 
 " Ah, there's the rub ! " and he puckered his 
 brow into a thoughtful frown, not deigning to no- 
 tice the innuent sneer in Mark's words. " While 
 I have gone into this question far enough to know 
 there is something wrong somewhere in the social 
 scale something quite at variance with the di- 
 vine law I can not say as yet, that I have en- 
 listed any great amount of sympathy in Frank's 
 work. For all that, I think he is right in his con- 
 tention. One has only to glance at the conditions 
 in our own town to be convinced of this. 
 
 " Look at our men ! They sweat and toil day 
 in and day out, year in and year out, for the mere 
 privilege of eating, drinking, and propagating 
 their own species sensual pleasures all if 
 pleasures they can be called when exercised under 
 such conditions as these men live. Not a thought 
 enters their heads of the higher designs for which
 
 18 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 God created them in His own image. Yes, Frank 
 Bent is right! These men need awakening! 
 They should be taught to aspire to something 
 better than their present mode of living. This 
 domination of power, the strong over the weak, 
 the rich over the poor, is all wrong. In a sense, 
 it is criminal ! The church is not doing its full 
 duty ; it is not fulfilling its divine mission ; for 
 this everlasting preaching of the doctrines of sub- 
 mission, humility, and contentment to stagnant 
 souls is retrograding in its effect. A man can be 
 humble, submissive, and content with his lot until 
 the last spark of manhood is quenched in his soul. 
 What is he then but a mere tool to be used in the 
 shaping of some other man's destiny? 
 
 " Men should be taught to struggle upward 
 to the higher level. No man should be content 
 with his lot until he has achieved something worth 
 while something that will benefit not only him- 
 self but also his fellow men and the times in which 
 he lives. The more I think of it, the more I am 
 in sympathy with Frank Bent and his ideals, and 
 the more I am disgusted with the selfishness of 
 money-hoarding and the purse-proud. Live and 
 let live should be the golden rule of life. I know 
 my father's opinion of Frank, and of reformers 
 in general ; but his opinion will make no difference 
 to me when I once make up my mind to act. 
 People may sneer at Frank as being too idealistic ; 
 but looking at his idealism from any point of view,
 
 THE HEIR OF COLE & COMPANY 19 
 
 it does not strike me as altogether visionary or 
 impractical." 
 
 As he ceased speaking, he settled back in his 
 chair with his wonted indolence, so familiar to 
 Mark in the old days when he used to make the 
 office his lounging place, and again that dreamy 
 expression veiled his eyes. For several seconds a 
 dense silence pervaded the room. He had warmed 
 up to a pitch of eloquence that seemed to animate 
 his whole being and transform him into an impas- 
 sioned zealot. 
 
 This outburst of feeling was a revelation to 
 Mark, who had always known Robert as an indo- 
 lent, easy-going lad, with no will of his own, but 
 with just enough devil in his make-up to stamp 
 him as a healthy, natural-born boy. To be sure, 
 Mark had seen little of him during his college 
 career, for his holidays, as he had just intimated, 
 had been monopolized by his mother or his sister 
 in escorting one or the other, or both, on a round 
 of gaieties. But Mark had been under the im- 
 pression right along that he had rather liked that 
 sort of life, and had felt many a qualm of disap- 
 pointment in consequence. He now chuckled in- 
 wardly at the discovery that the lad had, after all, 
 some mettle beneath his languorous exterior. He 
 was too faithful to the interests of Cole & Com- 
 pany, however, to lend countenance or encour- 
 agement to the rebellious spirit just exhibited by 
 the young man. Neither could he give advice un-
 
 20 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 til he had struck rock bottom of the turbulent 
 waters which were evidently lashing that newly 
 awakened soul and threatening to overwhelm the 
 house of his employer. In the interval of silence 
 which followed his mind revolved like clockwork. 
 
 He had heard the recent gossip of the neigh- 
 borhood, in which Robert's name had been linked 
 with that of Judge Gray's niece, a Miss Crosby, 
 who had been flitting in and out of Coleville with 
 the summer flowers for several years past. She 
 was rich, beautiful, well-connected, and in every 
 way a desirable match for the son of Richard 
 Cole ; and he was fully aware of the determination 
 of the family to bring about a union between these 
 two young people. Mark also knew of a certain 
 boyhood love affair which had sprung up between 
 Frank Bent's sister Ruth and Robert in their 
 school days, a boyish attachment, which Mrs. 
 Cole and Bell had nipped in the bud, or supposed 
 they had. It was the remembrance of this almost 
 forgotten love affair that framed his next ques- 
 tion. 
 
 " Have you seen Frank Bent's sister recently? " 
 he asked abruptly, gazing at the lounging figure 
 before him with a suspicion in his eyes. 
 
 Robert gave a slight start, and his eyes sought 
 the questioner's face as he answered frankly, 
 
 " Why, yes ; I have seen her." 
 
 "Where?" asked Mark with the confidence of 
 a lawyer probing for material on which to found 
 a suit.
 
 THE HEIR OF COLE & COMPANY 21 
 
 " Up at the fishing pool," he replied, without 
 the least sign of embarrassment. 
 
 " Has she finished school yet? " 
 
 " Yes ; she was graduated a year ago." 
 
 " Deuced nice girl, isn't she? " half questioned 
 Mark, stroking his chin to hide the insinuating 
 smile quivering on his thin lips. 
 
 " Yes, I think she is," assented Robert 
 promptly ; " but what has she to do with the ques- 
 tion at issue? " 
 
 " She may have a great deal to do with it," 
 and Mark shook his head thoughtfully ; " espe- 
 cially if you happen to get entangled too deeply in 
 Cupid's net." 
 
 This brought Robert to his feet with a spring. 
 
 "Oh, pshaw!" he ejaculated irritably, tossing 
 his half-consumed cigar out of the open window, 
 and cramming his hands deep into the pockets of 
 his trousers. " Can't a man meet the sister of 
 his friend without having it imputed that she car- 
 ries a winged Cupid on her wrist a la falcon of 
 old!" 
 
 He paced the room as he spoke, with a restless, 
 sullen air that reminded Mark of a caged animal 
 longing to burst his bars and be free. Mark 
 watched him in silence, hardly knowing what to 
 say to appease the anger he had unwittingly 
 roused. Moreover, this exhibition of temper as- 
 tounded Mark for the moment. Here was another 
 phase of Robert's character quite new to him, one 
 he had never suspected ; for Robert as a boy had
 
 22 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 always been listless, indolent, spiritless, and to a 
 certain degree, effeminate. " Sissy Cole " was his 
 sobriquet among the villagers ; and many a time 
 had Mark threatened to shake the daylights out 
 of some youngster for shouting the derisive term 
 after the lad as he rode through the village in 
 his little dogcart. As he now noted the flushed 
 face, flashing eyes, tense figure, and energetic 
 step of this scion of wealth, and his mind slowly 
 grasped the full meaning of it all, he allowed him- 
 self another inward chuckle, and almost let his 
 thoughts slip off the end of his tongue. " Well, 
 well, who would have thought it ! If that isn't 
 Dick Cole rejuvenated, I'm a pickle!" 
 
 He was satisfied that he had touched the main- 
 spring of Robert's discontent, and he was shrewd 
 enough to see that it would be useless to attempt 
 to argue with him in his present frame of mind. 
 Knowing the ambition of the elder Coles for this, 
 their idolized son, he realized the keen disappoint- 
 ment they would experience when they learned that 
 this heretofore passive idol had ideas of his own : 
 ideas, too, which were not exactly in harmony with 
 theirs. 
 
 He looked off through the open window, and a 
 shadow settled on his face as he thought of his 
 position between his unswerving affection for the 
 son, restlessly pacing the narrow confines of the 
 office, and of his duty to that father and mother, 
 whom he could see in the near distance from the 
 open window, sitting in placid contentment on the
 
 THE HEIR OF COLE & COMPANY 23 
 
 ivy-covered veranda of their beautiful home on the 
 hill overlooking the square. 
 
 Five minutes elapsed, during which time 
 neither had spoken, though much had passed 
 through the mind of each. Mark could stand it 
 no longer. He slid down from the table, and ap- 
 proaching Robert, placed his arm affectionately 
 across his shoulder, and took up the pacing with 
 him. 
 
 Stopping short in his walk as they reached the 
 door on the second turn of the room, Robert faced 
 his old friend and adviser, and looking him 
 straight in the eyes, asked: 
 
 " Have you any advice to offer, Mark ? " 
 
 Mark was quite taken aback by the sudden 
 change in Robert's voice and manner. The well- 
 knit form had been drawn up to its full height, 
 the head thrown back in a haughty poise, while 
 his tone had changed to one of cold, deferential 
 reserve. But Mark was not easily fazed. He 
 could take a rebuff with the same stoic indiffer- 
 ence that he could take the fawn of a sycophant, 
 if it so pleased him. During his early apprentice- 
 ship as private secretary for Cole & Company, he 
 had acquired a marvelous self-control which made 
 his services invaluable to his employer, who was 
 quick-tempered and ready to explode on the slight- 
 est provocation. He had also developed a habit 
 of concealing his real feeling, which habit had 
 almost become a second nature ; so that now, when 
 he answered Robert's question, neither voice nor
 
 24 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 look betrayed the hurt dealt by Robert's revolt 
 against his kindly interference. 
 
 " Yes," replied Mark slowly after the shadow 
 of a pause, *' but first I want to show you a pic- 
 ture." Drawing him gently towards the window, 
 and pointing to the palatial house embowered in 
 a wealth of foliage and bloom on the hill, he said: 
 " Look ! Is not that a beautiful picture of seren- 
 ity and domestic happiness? " 
 
 Robert raised his eyes to the veranda where sat 
 his father and mother, apparently in the keen en- 
 joyment of their luxurious surroundings. To his 
 dying day Robert never forgot the sight. Mark 
 allowed him time to take in every detail of the 
 scene, and then went on: 
 
 " A more devoted couple I never saw ; a more 
 loving father and mother no son ever had than 
 you have. Think, Robert, of those hearts beat- 
 ing in love for you, of those lives twined about 
 yours. Be careful, my boy, lest you bring sor- 
 row into that home! I know the secret of your 
 soul's unrest, Rob, know it just as well as if 
 you had told me in so many plain words. But you 
 are young yet, scarcely twenty-two ; you can afford 
 to wait awhile before committing yourself. Wait 
 at least a year. You know the old adage : ' All 
 things come to him who waits.' Meanwhile, get 
 something to do. This longing for work is the 
 healthiest thing about you, lad ! " Mark patted 
 him affectionately on the shoulders as he spoke. 
 
 " Work is the panacea for either real or imagin-
 
 THE HEIR OF COLE & COMPANY 25 
 
 ary ills and oppositions, for time never drags with 
 the toiler who knows how to hammer the sunshine 
 out of his work. You are in the right mood for 
 work. Your head and heart and hands are crav- 
 ing for something on which to expend their 
 energy. Healthy, hard work in the open is what 
 you need just now, and not to be shut up in a 
 musty law office. By all means go to work ! " 
 
 " But what can I do, Mark ? I have been 
 brought up in such wasteful extravagance and 
 idleness that I don't even know how to black my 
 own boots," he said dejectedly. 
 
 " I have it, Rob ! " he exclaimed, his eyes spar- 
 kling with delight as a happy thought seemed to 
 strike him. " I never favored this law business 
 for you. I have always said, and I still say it, 
 that you were never cut out for a lawyer, your 
 father's opinion to the contrary notwithstanding. 
 Your proper place is right here in these works. 
 Now, why not go to your father and ask him to 
 let you start in and learn the business? The 
 time is coming when you yourself will be Cole & 
 Company unless you sell your birthright for 
 a mess of pottage which God forbid ! Then 
 why not begin to show a little interest in the 
 works? " 
 
 " How do you suppose Dad would take such a 
 proposal ? " laughed Robert, casting a sidelong 
 glance into Mark's face. 
 
 " Oh, I realize that he may not take to it kindly ; 
 he may even lose his temper and rave and rant
 
 26 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 for a spell, and possibly use a few cuss words ; 
 but in the end, I rather think he will like the idea, 
 especially if you put it up to him in the right 
 way and stand by your guns," he said encourag- 
 ingly- 
 
 " You may be right about his liking it in the 
 end, Mark, but I have my doubts." And he 
 shook his head despondingly. 
 
 " At least it is worth trying," urged Mark. 
 
 " Yes ; on second thought, it is," he said after a 
 moment's hesitation, with a touch of boyish en- 
 thusiasm in his tone. " I will go up at once and 
 talk the matter over with him. But what a shock 
 it will give Mother and Bell if I happen to grime 
 my hands with common labor! I can almost see 
 the horror on their faces now." And he laughed 
 heartily. " Then again," he went on, " if Dad 
 will only agree to my plan, it will let me down easy 
 on that European trip which Mother and Bell 
 are planning for me, and which I have made up my 
 mind not to take under any conditions. So here 
 goes ! " And without another word he caught 
 up his hat from the table, opened the door, and 
 passed out as quietly as he had entered. 
 
 The door closed behind him, and Mark, listen- 
 ing to the sounds of the receding footfalls, meas- 
 ured the rapid strides on the plank -walk with the 
 shadow of a smile lurking benignantly among the 
 wrinkles of his face. He stood in front of the 
 window, just where Robert had left him, with his 
 hands clasped behind his back. The sound of
 
 THE HEIR OF COLE & COMPANY 27 
 
 the footsteps ceased. By this he knew that Rob- 
 ert had struck into the sandy roadbed beyond. 
 Involuntarily his eyes sought the window, whence 
 he watched Robert cross the road and enter the 
 grounds surrounding his home, through the turn- 
 stile at the lower footpath, and leisurely climb the 
 hill. He saw him reach the veranda and stand 
 for a moment before his father; he saw Mr. Cole 
 rise from his seat, full of life and vigor; and he 
 saw the two, father and son, pass into the house 
 together, leaving Mrs. Cole alone on the veranda. 
 
 Then he heard a rumble of wheels ; and the next 
 instant an open landau, drawn by a handsome 
 span of bays whose burnished silver trappings 
 glittered in the bright August sunshine, whirled 
 into view. The horses slackened their paces as 
 they drew near the great stone entrance leading 
 up to the mansion, turned in, and then dashed at 
 a lively gait up the winding incline. He shook his 
 head sadly and turned away with a frown on his 
 face when the steeds were reined in at the steps 
 of the veranda, for he had caught sight of a 
 beautiful face framed in a mass of rich laces and 
 ribbons as the carriage had rolled by. 
 
 " Why the deuce did she come just at this 
 time ? " he muttered as he rang for the watchman 
 and prepared to leave the office.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 FATHER AND SON 
 
 Robert reached his home, and mounting the 
 steps of the veranda stood, hat in hand, in the 
 presence of his father and mother under the full 
 glow of the noonday sunshine which swept unim- 
 peded across the opening in front of the house. 
 The light of a new purpose shone in his eyes. 
 The rich young blood pulsing rapidly through 
 his veins, quickened by a goading determination, 
 had sent the warm color into his cheeks and lips 
 and enhanced the delicate lines of the Grecian 
 nose and chin and neck. 
 
 Richard Cole and his wife gazed at their hand- 
 some son with pardonable pride as he stood there 
 before them. For nearly an hour he had fur- 
 nished their chief topic of conversation. They 
 had seen him enter and leave the office, and had 
 watched him all the way up the hill. His coming 
 seemed to add new zest to their communion of 
 souls as they sat there in the hallowed enjoyment 
 of the blessings which Providence had showered 
 upon them and theirs, not the least of which was 
 this manly son, around whom the tendrils of their 
 hearts had twined with unalloyed love, and on 
 
 whom the hopes of their lives had centered. 
 
 28
 
 FATHER AND SON 29 
 
 Robert was welcomed with smiles by both par- 
 ents, and with a few bantering words from his 
 father, to which he responded in kind. Then ap- 
 proaching a few steps nearer his father, he said 
 respectfully, 
 
 " Father, may I see you alone in the library ? 
 I have a private matter of importance that I wish 
 to talk over with you." 
 
 " Certainly, my son," replied Mr. Cole, rising 
 with alacrity and leading the way. 
 
 Mrs. Cole patted the hand of her husband as 
 it rested for a second on the arm of her chair in 
 rising, and she smiled significantly up into his 
 face; but she said not a word. She was content 
 to smile and to give Robert an encouraging nod 
 of her patrician head as he passed her by to fol- 
 low his father into the library. She was apt to 
 jump at conclusions, and she was so sure that she 
 understood the nature of this private interview 
 that the instant father and son were beyond sight 
 and sound, she rushed up stairs to Bell to com- 
 municate the good news that Robert had pro- 
 posed to Miss Crosby, or was about to ask his 
 father's permission to do so. At which Bell 
 merely shrugged her shoulders and said calmly: 
 
 " Wait and see." 
 
 Robert followed his father into the library and 
 closed the door after him. Mr. Cole threw him- 
 self into an easy chair in front of the glistening 
 mahogany table that graced the center of the 
 richly appointed room, and motioned Robert to a
 
 30 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 seat on the opposite side. Robert obeyed the ges- 
 ture, and dropping into the chair designated, 
 plunged at once into the matter in hand. 
 
 " Father, I want to know if you can't find me 
 something to do around the shops? I am tired 
 of hanging about with nothing to do except to 
 look nice." 
 
 " Want to shovel sand ? " asked his father in 
 a bantering tone. He had never taken Robert 
 seriously, and he could hardly grasp this proposi- 
 tion as anything but a joke. 
 
 " I am in earnest, Dad," said Robert in slightly 
 trembling tones. " I really want to get down to 
 work. I want to feel that I am earning my own 
 living." 
 
 " Very well," replied his father in an acquies- 
 cent tone. " I will have that room over the store 
 fixed up and see that your sign is painted and 
 properly hung. I promise that your office shall 
 be in readiness when you return from this trip on 
 which your mother and Bell have set their hearts. 
 ' Robert Cole, Esq., Attorney at Law.' That 
 won't sound so bad now, will it? " And he blinked 
 good-naturedly across the table. 
 
 " But that is not what I want," persisted Rob- 
 ert with a tinge of impatience in his tone. " I 
 want to learn to work with my hands and to feel 
 the sweat of honest labor run down my cheeks. 
 I want to know and to understand men in all 
 walks of life. In other words, I want to get in 
 touch with the live wires of the world."
 
 FATHER AND SON 31 
 
 A look of blank amazement shot across the table 
 from a pair of dilating eyes. 
 
 " What has put this notion into your head ? " 
 asked his father, when he had recovered sufficiently 
 to trust his voice. 
 
 " I have been thinking of it for some time," 
 he answered slowly, his confidence in himself ris- 
 ing in proportion to the growing opposition which 
 he saw in the narrowing glint of his father's eyes. 
 " I have come to the conclusion that it is folly 
 for a man to take up a profession for which he 
 feels he has neither the taste nor the talent. You 
 chose the law for me; but it never appealed to 
 me as a profession, and does not appeal to me 
 now. Should I enter it, feeling as I do, I know 
 I should make a dead failure of myself. For that 
 reason I have decided not to risk it." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed his father, rising and 
 bringing his fist down on the table with an angry 
 bang. " Give up the law after wasting four years 
 at college ! This is preposterous ! " 
 
 " I do not think I have wasted any time at col- 
 lege," mildly protested Robert in self-defense. 
 
 " What do you call it then? " His voice and 
 manner had grown very stern. " Have you not 
 spent four years in college preparing yourself 
 for the bar? And now you talk of having no taste 
 for it, and no talent for it, and propose throw- 
 ing it up ! What do you call that, if not a waste 
 of time, to say nothing of money? " Then with- 
 out giving the young man a chance to answer, he
 
 32 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 asked abruptly, " Have you said anything about 
 this to Miss Crosby? " 
 
 " No." And Robert looked at his father in 
 surprise. 
 
 " How do you suppose she will take such a non- 
 sensical proposition? " He turned a pair of 
 scrutinizing gray eyes full on Robert's face. 
 
 " It is immaterial to me how she takes it," he 
 said quietly, meeting the steady gaze of his father 
 without the flinch of an eyelash. 
 
 "Then isn't it time you made it material?" 
 came pointedly. " Have you not been paying at- 
 tention to her for the past two seasons? " 
 
 " No more than politeness demanded when I 
 have been forced into her society by the manoeu- 
 vres of Mother or Bell." There was a shade of 
 irritation in his voice, and though a flush of anger 
 mounted to his temples, he did not forget that he 
 was speaking to his father. " I " 
 
 *' Come, come," broke in Mr. Cole with a shrug 
 of impatience, " we are wasting precious time. I 
 expect Judge and Mrs. Gray to luncheon at two 
 o'clock and we shall need time to dress. Now, 
 Robert, you have had your say, let me have mine. 
 You must get this notion of going to work out of 
 your head at once. I have done work enough 
 in my time to answer for the whole family. Damn 
 it, what do you suppose I worked night and day 
 and scrimped and saved and racked my brain to 
 find paying investments for my savings, and de- 
 nied myself the privilege of a wife and home and
 
 FATHER AND SON 33 
 
 family until I was past forty for, if it was not to 
 save my son from being subjected to the humilia- 
 tion of a poverty-stricken youth such as I suf- 
 fered when I was your age? I never had your 
 opportunity to get an education, nor the time to 
 put on the polish one needs to shine in society. 
 I am sadly deficient in that line, and nobody knows 
 it better than I. But as no man can accomplish 
 everything in a life-time, I must be content to 
 bank my standing in the world on my talents for 
 money-making. 
 
 " Years ago I set my heart on your becoming 
 a lawyer; and when you came through your col- 
 lege course with flying colors, I was proud of you ! 
 I don't care a rap if you never earn a dollar at 
 your profession ! But stick to it you must, and 
 take your place in the professional world. Just 
 hang out your sign and hire someone to do the 
 office work. You can at least be the attorney 
 for Cole & Company. Damn it, I'll pay you, 
 well, five thousand dollars a year to begin with ! 
 And I'll increase it to ten when you marry 
 providing, of course, that you marry sensibly. I 
 tell you, boy, there's nothing like a good wife to 
 help a man make a success of himself ! And what 
 more charming a lady could you find than Miss 
 Crosby? Your mother and I have set our hearts 
 on this marriage ; and we feel sure that you will 
 not disappoint us. Miss Crosby is coming with 
 her uncle to luncheon. She likes you, I know, and 
 would accept you should you ask her. Why not
 
 34 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 settle the matter with her to-day? I have talked 
 this question over with the judge and he is pleased 
 with the prospect. He is very fond of you." 
 
 Robert had listened until he could contain him- 
 self no longer. His father had gradually lost the 
 sternness with which he had begun, and had mel- 
 lowed into the doting parent whose thoughts first, 
 last, and always were for the best interests of his 
 son. He had even slid his hand across the table 
 and laid it caressingly over Robert's, and stroked 
 it gently after the manner he would have stroked 
 a purring cat. In Robert's soul there raged a 
 conflict. He wavered between the calls of love 
 and duty to his father and his obligations to the 
 callings and cravings of his innermost being. 
 Had Mr. Cole stopped with his plea to Robert to 
 stick to his profession, Robert might have capitu- 
 lated; but the moment he brought Miss Crosby's 
 name into the argument, Robert stiffened and be- 
 came adamant. 
 
 " There is no use of discussing Miss Crosby any 
 further, Dad," he interrupted with a quiet, de- 
 termined air. " She is out of the question ; I shall 
 never marry her! And I might as well tell you 
 now that my affections are centered elsewhere." 
 
 " What's that ? " snapped his father, half ris- 
 ing. 
 
 " My affections are centered elsewhere," he re- 
 peated with a calm dignity quite new to his father. 
 
 " You mean that you care for some one else ? "
 
 FATHER AND SON 35 
 
 asked his father huskily, dropping back into his 
 chair. 
 
 "I do ! " promptly admitted Robert. 
 
 "For whom, may I ask?" His face was a 
 study. 
 
 " Ruth Bent," boldly replied Robert, braving 
 the rising wrath of his father. 
 
 If a wasp had suddenly stung Richard Cole, it 
 could not have brought him to his feet quicker. 
 He stood, clutching the table with both hands, 
 and glared across at the young rebel, unable to 
 utter a sound. His face grew purple with sup- 
 pressed rage, and the veins of his neck stood out 
 like whip-cords. At length he recovered himself 
 and spoke, but in a manner that greatly sur- 
 prised Robert. His voice was strangely harsh 
 and severe, and while there was a slight quaver in 
 it, which showed the intensity of his passion, there 
 was also that note of determination which had 
 hitherto dominated all who came within his power. 
 
 " You go to your room, sir, and dress for lunch- 
 eon ! Then come down and meet my guests fully 
 prepared to settle this matter with Miss Crosby 
 so that your engagement can be announced before 
 you sail for Europe next Tuesday I Now go, and 
 let me hear no more of this damnable nonsense ! " 
 
 The command was peremptory. Richard Cole 
 seemed to forget for the moment that his son was 
 no longer a boy. He seemed to forget also that 
 this son had been under training for years to learn
 
 36 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 to think for himself, and to maintain a dignified 
 manhood. 
 
 Robert knew his father's irascible temper too 
 well to attempt any argument at that time; so 
 he rose and left the room without a word. At the 
 door he paused and turned an appealing look at 
 his father, who had dropped back into his chair 
 and was sitting grim and stern at the table. 
 
 Robert loved his father with all the strength of 
 his nature, and he felt truly sorry to have pained 
 and disappointed him. He would gladly have 
 gone back and begged forgiveness had his father's 
 aspect been less forbidding and austere. As it 
 was, he saw that the battle royal was on, and he 
 understood that he must either surrender uncon- 
 ditionally at every point, or steel himself to stand 
 his ground against all odds. He chose the lat- 
 ter, and passed out of the living presence of his 
 father for the last time. 
 
 He stepped into the spacious hall in a half-sul- 
 len, half-defiant mood. As he approached the 
 door of the drawing-room, he heard the voice of 
 Miss Crosby, who had already arrived. It grated 
 unpleasantly on his ears, and set his soul aflame. 
 With an ejaculation that sounded very much like 
 an oath, he wheeled about ; and half blind with 
 anger and resentment, dashed through the side 
 door, down the steps, and struck into a bypath 
 leading to the river, and strode rapidly away. 
 
 After Robert left the library, Mr. Cole sat for 
 some time with his arms folded across his breast,
 
 FATHER AND SON 37 
 
 his head thrown back, and his eyes fixed on va- 
 cancy, as though buried in deep thought. Spring- 
 ing to his feet at length, and striking the table 
 an angry blow with his open palm, he muttered 
 between his set teeth : 
 
 " I'll stop this damned Bent affair, or I'll know 
 the reason why ! Now is my time to humble the 
 haughty head of that old jade!" 
 
 Having delivered himself thus, he stalked from 
 the room, crossed the hall, and mounted the broad 
 stairs to his room to dress for lunch.
 
 As we have seen, Miss Crosby had already ar- 
 rived and was in the drawing-room chatting with 
 Bell. Mr. Cole heard her voice as he passed the 
 door, and realizing the lateness of the hour, found 
 another grievance to lay up against Robert and 
 the cursed offspring of Myra Dale. Reaching 
 his room, he hastened with his toilet; but ere he 
 had half completed it, Judge and Mrs. Gray were 
 announced. This again added to his irritation, 
 for if there was one thing more than another that 
 he insisted on, it was punctuality. 
 
 He had learned from Mrs. Cole, who, by the 
 way, was a stickler on etiquette, that to keep an 
 invited guest waiting beyond the appointed time 
 was an unpardonable breach of good breeding. 
 And the breach on this occasion would seem espe- 
 cially grave to her, when the guests were such 
 august personages as Judge Gray and his lady. 
 Keeping this in mind, his temper grew uglier with 
 every moment's delay, so that finally, when his 
 toilet was finished and he had descended to the 
 drawing-room, he was not in the most amiable 
 humor to receive his guests. 
 
 Mrs. Cole noted this at once and knew that 
 38
 
 CROSS WINDS 39 
 
 something had gone wrong between him and Rob- 
 ert. Although annoyed by the thought, she rose 
 to the occasion, and smoothing over the embar- 
 rassment of his delay, brought guests and host 
 together with a well-feigned show of cordiality on 
 the part of her grouty lord. But she soon found 
 that it would require the constant exercise of all 
 her tactful resources to keep things moving in the 
 right groove. 
 
 They waited some time longer for Robert, but 
 they waited in vain. Mrs. Cole glanced uneasily 
 at Bell, who was doing her utmost to get her father 
 and Judge Gray started on one of their pet argu- 
 ments. Finally, Mr. Cole became impatient of 
 Robert's delay, and ordered the butler to call him. 
 That Robert would obey his command, he never 
 doubted for a moment. 
 
 " He is not in the house, sir," explained the 
 butler, returning from his search. " Mr. Rob- 
 ert went down the river path some time ago and 
 has not yet returned." 
 
 Mr. Cole said not a word when the butler vol- 
 unteered this bit of information, but his face 
 blanched to his lips. He rose stiffly and offered 
 his arm to Mrs. Gray to lead her in to lunch. 
 
 Mrs. Cole and Bell saw the change in his coun- 
 tenance, and knowing its import, prepared them- 
 selves to act so as not to add fuel to the smolder- 
 ing fires within him, lest there should be an out- 
 break that would cover them with disgrace in the 
 eyes of their guests.
 
 40 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 When Mrs. Cole reported to Bell that Robert 
 had asked his father for a private interview, Bell 
 had a faint premonition, despite her mother's 
 sanguine outlook, as to the nature of that inter- 
 view and its probable outcome. She was cogni- 
 zant of certain clandestine meetings between Rob- 
 ert and Ruth Bent, which had been taking place 
 for several weeks past. Only the day before she 
 had expostulated with him on account of these 
 meetings; had even threatened to inform on him 
 if they did not cease immediately. But she re- 
 ceived little satisfaction, so far as her influence or 
 intimidatioln went. Her interference, however, 
 had one result. She got an insight to the real 
 Robert Cole, an insight that not only surprised, 
 but frightened her, to some extent. Remember- 
 ing her encounter with Robert, she had covertly 
 studied her father's face when he entered the draw- 
 ing-room to greet his guests, and therefrom 
 quickly surmised something of what had passed in 
 the library, and was not wholly unprepared for his 
 grouchy mood. The blanching of his face when 
 the butler announced the absence of Robert warned 
 her that the very sight of anything relating to 
 the unruly one would be likely to act as an irritant 
 on his overcharged feelings ; and in order to avoid 
 a possible outburst of passion, she made a feint 
 and passed a word to the butler. That worthy in- 
 stantly disappeared through the side door into the 
 dining-room, and quietly removed Robert's chair 
 from its accustomed place at the table and closed
 
 CROSS WINDS 41 
 
 up the gap ere Mr. Cole, with Mrs. Gray on his 
 arm entered the room, followed by the Judge and 
 Mrs. Cole, while Bell and Miss Crosby brought up 
 in the rear. 
 
 The luncheon had been arranged ostensibly in 
 honor of Judge Gray, who was to leave for Bar 
 Harbor the following week to spend the remainder 
 of the summer ; but in reality, it was given in com- 
 pliment to his niece, Miss Crosby, who had been 
 visiting him since early in June. This was her 
 last day in Coleville. She was to leave on the 
 late evening train for Boston, whence she would 
 sail for Europe on the following Tuesday. 
 
 It might be said here in truth that it was this 
 contemplated trip which precipitated the whole 
 train of calamitous events which were about to 
 follow. 
 
 In one of her intimate chats with Bell, soon after 
 her arrival in June to pay her second annual visit 
 to her uncle, Judge Gray, Miss Crosby had talked 
 freely of her plans for the late summer and early 
 fall, which included a trip to Europe. Straight- 
 way Bell conceived the idea of joining Miss Cros^ 
 by's party on the trip abroad. The birth of an 
 idea in Bell's fertile brain meant simply the be- 
 ginning of an accomplished fact. She hastened to 
 talk the matter over with her mother ; and then 
 the two put their heads together and easily won 
 the sanction of Mr. Cole. As a matter of course, 
 Robert was included in their program for doing 
 the continent. Accordingly it was arranged that
 
 4 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 Mrs. Cole, Bell, and Robert should meet Miss 
 Crosby in Boston, and all sail on the same steamer. 
 
 The whole thing, however, had been planned 
 without consulting Robert or taking his inclina- 
 tions into consideration. He had been such a 
 good, dutiful son and brother that it never occurred 
 to them that he might object, or that he might 
 have formed plans of his own contrary to theirs. 
 All he knew regarding the trip had been gleaned 
 incidentally from the general conversation between 
 his parents and Bell when they met at the table 
 or elsewhere. He let them talk and plan to their 
 hearts' content, asking no questions, and show- 
 ing no interest in the approaching journey. 
 
 Yet at the same time, he was nettled as he had 
 never been before at their taking it for granted 
 that he would fall into their schemes at the last 
 moment, and his brain was busy concocting plans 
 of his own to thwart their little game. Up to the 
 hour of his talk with Mark Gibson, however, he 
 had formed no definite line of action. After that, 
 events shaped themselves with such startling rapid- 
 ity that he seemed to have been hurled into the 
 arms of a relentless Fate, to be borne on and on 
 into a vortex of interminable unhappiness. 
 
 The luncheon was over at last, much to the re- 
 lief of both host and guests. So far as viands 
 and service could make it a success, nothing was 
 lacking. Mrs. Cole prided herself on the culinary 
 arts and appointments of her home at all times ; 
 and this affair, having been planned with excep-
 
 CROSS WINDS 48 
 
 tional care and forethought, was perfect in the 
 minutest detail. But in every other respect, the 
 luncheon was a flat failure. 
 
 In spite of the efforts of Mrs. Cole and Bell to 
 conceal their chagrin at the absence of Robert, 
 they could not wholly throw off the gloom it oc- 
 casioned; and as often happens when one strives 
 for effect, in their anxiety to appear at ease, they 
 overshot the mark and made a bad matter worse. 
 
 Mr. Cole remained moody throughout the meal 
 and made no attempt to hide his vexation, though 
 he did not mention Robert's name. At best, he 
 was little more than severely polite. Judge Gray 
 was dignified to a point of heaviness, while Mrs. 
 Gray ate of the good things set before her with 
 a serene enj oyment that forbade- more than a pass- 
 ing remark. 
 
 All this threw the burden of levity on Miss 
 Crosby. She had been quick to read the domestic 
 tragedy in the non-appearance of the son of the 
 house on such a momentous event ; and the woe- 
 ful faces about her added zest to her spirits and 
 lent such a piquancy to the situation as to call 
 forth all the gaiety of her vivacious nature. She 
 laughed, chattered, and told her wittiest stories ; 
 but all to no purpose. The ghost would not down. 
 And at last, she too, catching the spirit of the 
 hour, lapsed into silence. 
 
 The same gloomy atmosphere threw its chill 
 over the drawing-room when host and guests ad- 
 journed thence, and could not be dispelled. At
 
 length Judge and Mrs. Gray relieved the tension 
 by rising to make their adieus. Having driven 
 over in a separate carriage, Miss Crosby remained 
 to follow later with Bell. 
 
 After bidding their guests good-by on the steps 
 of the veranda, Mr. and Mrs. Cole stood watching 
 the carriage move briskly down the broad, smooth 
 road. Only for a moment did they stand thus 
 side by side when, without a word, he turned ab- 
 ruptly and entered the house, leaving her stand- 
 ing alone on the veranda. Mrs. Cole looked after 
 him with a pair of mild, questioning eyes and then 
 followed him slowly into the house, apparently so 
 well used to his brusque manner as not to deem 
 it worth noticing. 
 
 On entering the hall, Mr. Cole gave orders for 
 his horse to be saddled and brought round to the 
 side door, and then went directly to his room to 
 change his clothes. Twenty minutes later he 
 came down, mounted his horse, which had been 
 saddled and waiting his coming for some time, and 
 rode away without saying a word to anyone as to 
 his destination or purpose. To be sure, that was 
 nothing new, for Richard Cole had never been in 
 the habit of talking over his goings and comings 
 with members of his family, or anyone else except, 
 perhaps, Mark Gibson. And heretofore, his wife 
 had never questioned his right to go and come 
 as he pleased. 
 
 But somehow that day, as Mrs. Cole caught a 
 glimpse of him through the window as he passed
 
 CROSS WINDS 45 
 
 into the shadow of the oaks, a feeling of dread 
 crossed her mind and she trembled in every limb. 
 She knew that something out of the common had 
 taken place between him and Robert. She knew, 
 also, that under that apparently calm exterior 
 which he so creditably maintained throughout the 
 luncheon, there raged a tempest which boded ill 
 to any and all who should run counter to his 
 wishes while it lasted; and she hoped and prayed 
 that Robert would keep out of his path until his 
 passion had spent its fury. 
 
 Richard Cole was one of the old school of mill 
 men, styled in modern parlance " self-made." 
 Having laid the foundation of his fortune on thrift 
 and industry, he had gone steadily on, building on 
 that foundation until, at the time of which I 
 write, he was rated as a millionaire, and classed 
 among the giants of industry. Gossip had had 
 it that a disappointment in a love affair in his 
 early youth had turned his mind to the pursuit 
 of wealth as a balm for a bruised heart. Be that 
 as it may, he was well past forty when he brought 
 his bride to Coleville. 
 
 He had then reached that stage of life where a 
 man feels the need of a woman's hand and brain 
 to further his ambitious designs in other directions 
 than money-making. He wanted a home. And 
 as only a wife can make a home in its true sense, 
 he looked about him and soon found the lady into 
 whose hands he was willing to give the guidance of 
 his domestic establishment. Being devoid of senti-
 
 46 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 ment, he chose his wife as he would have chosen a 
 piece of new machinery for his foundry, because 
 of her good qualities overlooking no additional 
 points of attractions, such as good looks, good 
 health, good family connections, and withal, a 
 good-sized fortune. All of which Mrs. Cole 
 brought him, even to the fortune, which she held 
 in her own right. And strange to say, in spite 
 of the sentimentalist's ideas on loveless marriages, 
 this marriage proved, in the main, a happy one. 
 Although cold, stern, self-willed, and quick-tem- 
 pered by nature, Richard Cole was a devoted hus- 
 band, and to the two children, Robert and Isabell, 
 born of this marriage, he was a loving and indul- 
 gent father. 
 
 He had one trait of character, a dogged tenac- 
 ity, which dominated him and served his purpose 
 through life. Tenacious of his rights, powers, and 
 privileges, he brooked no opposition to his regu- 
 larly formed plans, and it was to teach Robert a 
 salutary lesson on this point that he rode forth 
 on that beautiful August afternoon. 
 
 Proud and erect he sat his horse as he rode 
 through the avenue of wide-spreading oaks. Ex- 
 cept that his face wore a scowl and his eyes shone 
 with an ugly light, there was no visible sign of the 
 tumult raging in his breast. For reasons best 
 known to himself he avoided the highway and took 
 a cross-cut through a clump of woods that fringed 
 his estate on the west, and presently emerged on 
 a wide strip of meadowlands through which the
 
 CROSS WINDS 47 
 
 streams of his trout preserves wended their divers 
 ways ere emptying into the river below. 
 
 So sudden and noiseless had his entrance to the 
 meadow been that he almost rode down the motion- 
 less figure of a little man crouching in the long 
 grass at the edge of the nearest sluice on the very 
 verge of the woods. He was industriously en- 
 gaged in dragging the stream with a small hand 
 net. Springing to his feet as horse and rider 
 dashed so unexpectedly into the open, he stood 
 pale and trembling before Mr. Cole, who had 
 swerved aside and reined up barely in time to pre- 
 vent his horse from trampling down the fear- 
 stricken man. 
 
 For a moment Mr. Cole was as much surprised 
 as the man himself; the next, he had lashed him- 
 self into a furious rage. His face turned purple 
 and his eyes bulged out hideously as he glared 
 down on the poor, shivering wretch at his feet. 
 From his towering height, the powerful form of 
 the strong man contrasted strangely with the 
 stunted, misshappen mass of humanity cowering 
 in abject terror below. 
 
 This was not the first time that Dick Stanton 
 had been caught trespassing on the preserves of 
 Oakwood ; but it was the first time he had run afoul 
 of the owner himself, and he had reason to think 
 he would not escape so easily as on other occa- 
 sions when he had been caught by Robert or the 
 care-taker. They had always shown him a cer- 
 tain sympathy and had dealt with him leniently
 
 48 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 on account of his deformity and apparently friend- 
 less condition, for Dick Stanton was one of those 
 derelicts of our social system who drift in and out 
 of the world under a bar sinister. And to make 
 matters worse for poor Dick, he was a hunch- 
 back. 
 
 As the steel-gray eyes of Richard Cole swept 
 over the diminutive figure at his feet, a look of 
 intense hatred and malignity flashed across his 
 face. The eyes of the two men met, but only in 
 a fleeting glance, for the large brown eyes, the 
 one redeeming feature of the sallow, pain-withered 
 face of the hunchback, fell before the terrifying 
 light in those of his captor. 
 
 " What the devil does this mean ? " shouted Mr. 
 Cole when he came to himself at last, springing 
 from his horse and pointing to a large tin pail 
 nearly full of speckled beauties with an angry 
 wave of one hand while he swung his riding-whip 
 up with the other and brought it down with a sting- 
 ing cut across the face of the half dazed man. 
 
 This, coming unexpectedly, roused Dick to a 
 sense of his degradation and wrought a terrible 
 transformation in his face and demeanor, startling 
 to see. With a howl of pain and a volley of oaths, 
 he sprang aside just in time to avoid another lash 
 of the whip ; but he did not run. Having thus 
 placed an arm's length between himself and the 
 angry man, he seemed to lose all sense of fear. 
 With a peculiar movement he drew his squatted 
 form up to its full stature, and giving his big bull
 
 CROSS WINDS 49 
 
 head a savage toss upward, which sent the long, 
 shaggy hair flying back from his broad, white 
 forehead, he faced his antagonist with the ferocious 
 courage of a wild animal at bay. Again their 
 eyes met ; but this time there was no quailing in 
 Dick's. There was in them, however, something 
 which made the blood recede from even the lips 
 of the strong man. His arm dropped to his side 
 as if suddenly paralyzed as he stared into that 
 face and caught the tigerish light in those glitter- 
 ing brown eyes. And thus they stood for several 
 seconds, the pigmy and the giant holding each 
 other at bay. Dick was the first to find his voice. 
 
 " You cowardly cur ! " he hissed between his set 
 teeth ; and giving the pail a vicious kick which sent 
 it, fish and all, spinning into the stream, he turned 
 on his heel and walked slowly away and was soon 
 lost to sight among the oaks. 
 
 Mr. Cole answered not a word of resentment of 
 the epithet hurled at him ; neither did he attempt 
 to stop Dick from entering the park grounds. He 
 merely stood as if terror-stricken and watched the 
 little hunchback until he disappeared. Then he 
 came to himself with a start and swore a terrible 
 oath. Stooping, he drew the pail from the stream, 
 threw it on the ground, and with one stamp of 
 the heel of his riding-boot, he ended its usefulness 
 for all time. This done, he made a swift survey 
 of the streams in all directions, and having as- 
 sured himself that the banks were clear of poach- 
 ers, he sprang into his saddle and rode on, with
 
 50 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 his face a trifle darker and his temper somewhat 
 more ruffled for his encounter with Dick Stanton. 
 
 It was nearly five o'clock when he drew rein in 
 front of the old Dale homestead with its old-fash- 
 ioned, picturesque surroundings, and dismounted. 
 
 Mrs. Bent was seated on the veranda. She had 
 recognized Richard Cole when he appeared round 
 the bit of woodland that jutted into the road be- 
 low the hill and shut off all view of the highway 
 to the east ; but it was not until his horse had 
 turned in at her gate and begun his canter up the 
 long incline that she allowed her curiosity to get 
 the better of her industry. At first she could 
 hardly believe her eyes. There must be some mis- 
 take. But no ; there he was, coming nearer every 
 second. The sight arrested the plying of the long 
 needles among the meshes of the bit of lace which 
 she had been mechanically knitting for an hour 
 or more. 
 
 Many years had elapsed since Richard Cole had 
 ridden down that hill, vowing never again to rise 
 it until he should come to humble the proud head 
 of its mistress. Recalling this vow, it was with 
 no little interest, and even alarm, that she now 
 watched and waited the approach of the horse- 
 man. Mrs. Bent, however, was a woman of re- 
 markable self-possession ; and by the time he had 
 reached the veranda steps and alighted, she was 
 ready to extend to him her hospitality to him, 
 her old-time friend and enemy. She rose as he
 
 CROSS WINDS 51 
 
 flung the bridle over the horse's neck and advanced 
 to meet him. 
 
 " Good afternoon, Mr. Cole ; this is indeed an 
 unexpected pleasure ! " she said by way of wel- 
 come. 
 
 Richard Cole was a man of few words, and those 
 few, as a general rule, went straight to the point. 
 
 " Is my son here? " he demanded rather 
 brusquely, ignoring her friendly salutation. 
 
 " No, he is not ! " she replied, quickly drawing 
 herself to her full height and assuming a defen- 
 sive reserve. 
 
 " Mrs. Bent," he began in a pompous tone, 
 while his whole bearing took on an air in keeping 
 with his voice, " I have come on a very delicate 
 matter; so delicate, in fact, that I hardly know 
 how to broach it." 
 
 " It must indeed be a delicate matter when Rich- 
 ard Cole hesitates for words to express it," she 
 remarked dryly, with a chilling stare. 
 
 " It is a matter," he went on without appear- 
 ing to notice her sarcastic remark, " that affects 
 not only the happiness and welfare of my son, but 
 also the honor of my name and the prestige of 
 my family." He paused as if expecting her to 
 reply; but in this he was disappointed. He had 
 ascended the steps and was standing on the very 
 edge of the veranda toying with the silver butt 
 of his riding-whip. He had not even shown her 
 the courtesy of removing his hat. 
 
 \
 
 52 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 Mrs. Bent had known Richard Cole all her life. 
 They were about the same age, she and he ; they 
 had attended the same school when children, and 
 many's the time her whispered help had saved him 
 from making a dead slump in the class ; and they 
 had worshiped at the same church all their lives. 
 She could recall many favors which he had received 
 at the hands of her father when he was a strug- 
 gling young mechanic. With this in mind, his 
 pompous manner nettled her and drew her innate 
 hauteur to the surface. 
 
 " Of course you understand," he continued after 
 a moment's silence, " that I refer to this silly in- 
 fatuation which your granddaughter seems to 
 have formed for my son." 
 
 He paused again. Still there was no response 
 from the white lips of the woman before him. 
 They stood facing each other on the veranda 
 for his first question had frozen the natural flow 
 of courtesy in her blood and she could not, after 
 that, invite him to enter her home, or even ask 
 him to be seated where they were and so they 
 stood, he, arrogant, sullen, and imperative, she, 
 proudly erect, resentive, growing more angry 
 every moment. Thus they stood, these two el- 
 derly people, in relatively the same position in 
 which they had stood on a certain Saturday after- 
 noon over fifty years before. Like a shadowy 
 phantom the scene of that day floated before her 
 vision as he took up the broken thread of his re- 
 marks.
 
 CROSS WINDS 53 
 
 " You know that he is engaged to Miss Crosby." 
 She must have betrayed her surprise, for he 
 elevated his shaggy brows and half questioned : 
 
 " Not heard of it ? Then I am most happy 
 to be the bearer of the news. While their engage- 
 ment has not yet been formally announced, I don't 
 mind telling you privately that they are to be 
 married on their return from Europe in the early 
 fall. Feeling that you would not countenance any 
 clandestine meetings between Robert and your 
 granddaughter under such circumstances, I con- 
 sidered it my duty to ride over and warn you of 
 the consequences of any imprudence on your part 
 in allowing the young people to be too much in 
 each other's company. It is not prudent of your 
 granddaughter to meet Robert in out-of-the-way 
 places, as I understand has been the case. Young 
 girls need a tight check rein at times, especially 
 when there is a handsome, rich young man prowl- 
 ing round in the woods. Young men are young 
 men, you know, and when temptation is thrown in 
 their way in the guise of a pretty girl, they are 
 not always responsible for results. At all events, 
 it is not wise for you to encourage your grand- 
 daughter to be dangling at Robert's heels every 
 time he chooses to take a stroll in the woods. 
 Such a course would be mere folly now that you 
 know he is engaged to another. My son's wealth 
 and station is so far above your granddaughter's 
 that Robert would never think of marriage in 
 connection with her, even if Mrs. Cole and I could,
 
 54 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 for one moment, consider such a mesalliance, which 
 would be absolutely out of the question ! " 
 
 She had listened silently, even patiently, until 
 he had finished; then she blazed forth with sting- 
 ing effect. 
 
 " And who are you, Dick Cole, who dares to 
 come to me and talk in this strain? Time was 
 when you did not consider a marriage with one of 
 my house a mesalliance; and if your object in 
 calling to-day was to boast of your acquired 
 wealth and family prestige, you might have saved 
 yourself a world of trouble. Yonder lies the way 
 back to your dirty little town with its mass of 
 cringing humanity ; take it and go ! But remem- 
 ber this for the rest of your life that Myra Bent 
 has about as much respect for you and your fam- 
 ily prestige as she had fifty years ago, no more 
 possibly a little less. You are still Dick Cole, 
 only a little better dressed, a little better fed, a 
 little better housed, but at heart the same miserly, 
 conceited, selfish, and avaricious creature you were 
 then. Money has no power to change a sordid 
 nature; neither has it the purchasing power to 
 buy brains. Mesalliance, forsooth ! " 
 
 He waited to hear no more. Turning on his 
 heel, pale and trembling with passion, he flung 
 himself down the steps and into his saddle, and dig- 
 ging his rowels deep into the shining flanks of his 
 magnificent horse, he dashed down the hill at a 
 much higher speed than he had come up.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 THE MYSTERIOUS SHOT 
 
 Meantime, what of the son whom we last saw, in 
 open defiance of all parental authority, stalking 
 moodily towards the river which flowed through 
 the extensive grounds surrounding the Cole resi- 
 dence, and which formed one of the picturesque 
 features of the vast estate? 
 
 The path he had taken was one of rare beauty. 
 Springing surprises at every turn, it wound its 
 sinuous ways among clumps of ancient oaks and 
 chestnuts whose dense foliage shut out the fierce 
 rays of the noonday sun and threw weird shadows 
 into the dim vistas of lighter greens ahead, and 
 at last brought one plump into a small boathouse 
 on the bank of the river. 
 
 But Robert Cole saw nothing of the beauties 
 along the way, felt nothing of the charm of the 
 summer woods, heard nothing of the thrilling notes 
 of the feathered songsters that eyed him saucily 
 from their leafy coverts. His whole being was in 
 rebellion against the world at large. On reaching 
 the boathouse, he entered and gathered up some 
 fishing tackle. This he carried out and dropped 
 carefully into a shell-like boat that swung at its 
 
 moorings on the river. The boat, so frail and 
 
 55
 
 56 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 dainty, looked more like a painted toy than a thing 
 for actual use. But Robert knew the trustworthi- 
 ness of the little craft; and the clouds seemed to 
 lift from his face as he stepped into it and pushed 
 out into the sunlit stream. 
 
 It was the first week in August ; and being Sat- 
 urday afternoon, the great works of Cole & Com- 
 pany were closed and the noisy hum of machinery 
 was hushed. A soft stillness pervaded the air. 
 Nothing but the harmonious sounds of nature 
 could be heard through the valley as the young 
 man paddled lazily up the river. As his boat 
 darted in and out of the shades cast by the luxuri- 
 ant growth of underbrush and overtopping trees 
 which lined the banks on either side, a delicious 
 sense of calm gradually stole over his spirits and 
 he began to take an interest in the scenes float- 
 ing past him. 
 
 A full mile was covered ere he reached the line 
 where the woods of his father's grounds ended and 
 the open pasture lands of the Bent estate began. 
 Here he landed, and drawing his boat up on the 
 sloping bank within the shade of a century-old out- 
 spreading oak, he took out his fishing tackle and 
 prepared to try his arts on the finny tribes of the 
 stream. 
 
 The tree under which he had taken shelter from 
 the scorching heat of that August sun stood on the 
 verge of the woods and served as a bound. A low 
 zigzag rail fence running thence to the highway 
 marked the full line. Time had been when these
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS SHOT 57 
 
 woods, and as a matter of fact, the whole of the 
 Cole estate, was part and parcel of the old Dale 
 farm. Richard Cole had come into possession of 
 this strip of wood and meadow lands, which ex- 
 tended from the falls at the mill in the town up the 
 river side a mile and a half, from old Mr. Dale 
 through some sharp dealings which Mrs. Bent had 
 never been able to understand. She only knew 
 that when her father died and she, as his only 
 heir, took possession of the estate, Richard Cole's 
 title to the land in question was too secure to be 
 disturbed by any ouster proceedings. So the mat- 
 ter was allowed to rest; but it never ceased to be 
 an added thorn in the mind of Mrs. Bent against 
 her neighbor, Richard Cole. 
 
 This particular tree under which Robert was 
 prepared to while away the sultry afternoon had 
 been a favorite resort of his for years. On one 
 side lay the woods ; on the other, a long stretch of 
 berry pastures. Southward, the land rose gently 
 towards the highway, then, after crossing the 
 road-bed, took a sudden rise and gathered itself 
 into a round-topped hill of several hundred feet 
 in height, but whose frontage had been terraced in 
 such a manner as to tone down in appearance 
 much of its elevation. On the crest of this hill 
 stood the Bent homestead, a rambling old house, 
 two-and-a-half stories high, with a wide veranda 
 extending along the whole front, over which were 
 trained in artistic exuberance a variety of flower- 
 ing climbers.
 
 58 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 From his place under the tree Robert could see 
 the comings and goings of the folks on the hill; 
 and the folks on the hill could see the movements 
 of Robert while trailing his line on the stream 
 without putting themselves to much trouble. In 
 years gone by it had not been an uncommon sight 
 to see signals fluttering between hill and river. 
 Those were the days when Robert and his sister 
 Bell were wont to row up to the Bent place to play 
 with Frank and Ruth. But the signals had long 
 since ceased to pass current between these points 
 of interest; and Robert could only haunt the old 
 trysting place, and while feigning to fish, cast 
 longing glances towards the house on the hill and 
 pray for a chance meeting with Ruth, for she was 
 an enthusiastic angler and frequented the river 
 banks with rod and reel. 
 
 Robert prepared his tackle and selected his 
 point of vantage with extreme care on this August 
 afternoon, and finally settled himself down to his 
 task. But the fish would not bite worth a shuck. 
 They nibbled at the worms with tantalizing effect 
 as a freshly baited hook dropped temptingly into 
 the stream ; but they were too sly to be caught. 
 And after two hours of patient endeavors to land 
 a fish, he pitched the rod into the boat, threw him- 
 self at full length on the grass, and gave himself 
 up to the drowsy influence of the afternoon and of 
 his surroundings. 
 
 He lay stretched upon his back, his hands 
 clasped under his head, with his half closed eyes
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS SHOT 59 
 
 fixed in a visionary stare on vacancy. The same 
 dreamy expression that had puzzled Mark Gibson 
 in the office was on his face. He appeared oblivi- 
 ous to the passing of time, and to the heart throbs 
 of the great world about him. 
 
 " A penny for your thoughts, Mr. Indolence ! " 
 broke in upon his reverie in a merry voice, fol- 
 lowed by a peal of silvery laughter. 
 
 He sprang to his feet, covered with confusion, 
 and faced the speaker. His embarrassment lasted 
 but a moment, however ; the next, he caught the 
 spirit of the laughing nymph before him, and 
 joined in the laugh. 
 
 " I wouldn't part with them for ten times that 
 amount, Miss Vivacity ! " he exclaimed, holding 
 out his hand by way of greeting. 
 
 " You set a high price on your daydreams, sir," 
 she bantered ; " are they really worth it ? " 
 
 She placed her hand in his open palm as she 
 spoke, and his fingers closed over it. For a mo- 
 ment they stood, looking into each other's faces. 
 
 It was a pretty, girlish face into which he gazed, 
 framed in the rim of a pink sunbonnet. The bon- 
 net was tipped coquettishly back on a wealth of 
 fluffy brown hair, and a pair of big blue eyes, 
 free of the bonnet's protecting shade, met his with- 
 out the quiver of a lash. To look at, she was a 
 dainty little creature, scarcely above the medium 
 height, and lithe as a fairy. Her dress was pink 
 and white, and was partly concealed under a long- 
 sleeved gingham apron, donned for the purpose of
 
 protecting the delicate muslin from the brambles. 
 
 " You shall be the judge," he said after a short 
 pause, while his eyes beamed with the admiration 
 he could not hide if he would. " They were of 
 your own dear self." 
 
 " Fie ! fie ! sir," she replied in mocking gravity, 
 stepping back a pace, though allowing him to re- 
 tain her hand. " It is not for me to estimate the 
 value of idle dreams; me, who has never an idle 
 moment from the crowing o' the cock i' the morn 
 to the first chirp o' the katydid i' the eve. You 
 know Grandma would never tolerate such a prodi- 
 gal waste of time as daydreaming consumes." 
 
 There was a roguish twinkle in her dancing 
 blue eyes, and her healthy red lips were bubbling 
 over with laughter. 
 
 " Ruth Bent, you grow more beautiful and be- 
 witching every day ! How can I help dreaming 
 of you? Waking or sleeping, your face is ever 
 before me ! " he exclaimed in half chiding tones, 
 raising her hand to his lips and kissing it passion- 
 ately. 
 
 " Oh ! " she gasped, snatching away her hand, 
 while a deep blush suffused her cheeks, and her 
 eyes sought the ground. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Ruth, I didn't mean to of- 
 fend you ; but I do want to tell you " 
 
 She cut him short by holding up a warning fin- 
 ger. 
 
 " Milly ! " she called, glancing over her shoulder. 
 
 " Yes, Miss Rufe, ah's right heah ! " And im-
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS SHOT 61 
 
 mediately an old colored woman stuck her head 
 through a clump of bushes near by and an instant 
 later stepped into the clearing and set a large pail 
 of raspberries on the ground, while she shook the 
 dust from her skirts. 
 
 " I think we have berries enough now, Milly, 
 and had better return," said Ruth calmly. 
 
 " Ah's ready if yo' is, Miss Rufe," replied Milly, 
 adjusting her bright turban and taking up her 
 pail. 
 
 " You see, Mr. Cole, I have picked pearly two 
 quarts of berries myself," said Ruth, holding up 
 her pail for his inspection. " Grandma is going 
 to make raspberry tarts for tea. You remember 
 Grandma's tarts ? " And she laughed a little 
 musical laugh. 
 
 " Indeed I do, Miss Bent." 
 
 There was no mistaking the tinge of retaliation 
 and resentment in his tone. And he looked into 
 her eyes as if he would fain read her soul. Her 
 long lashes drooped under his gaze, and the laugh 
 died on her lips. 
 
 She had seen the frown flit across his face when 
 Milly made her sudden appearance, and she had 
 also seen the pained start in his eyes when she her- 
 self had called him " Mr. Cole." It was the first 
 time that either had addressed the other as " Mr." 
 and " Miss " ; and it sounded strangely out of 
 place on the ears of each. Ruth saw that she had 
 wounded him, and would have given the world to 
 recall her words ; but that was out of the question,
 
 62 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 for she had a part to play, of which this was only 
 the beginning. She must steel herself for the 
 results. 
 
 Robert Cole never sulked, no matter what the 
 provocation, and he seldom allowed his temper 
 more than a momentary flash. Her downcast 
 eyes and pretty confusion appealed to his innate 
 chivalry as a sort of penitential apology ; and he 
 quickly recovered his wonted spirits. 
 
 " By the way, Ruth," he said with a sudden 
 change of tone, " that reminds me ; I haven't tasted 
 one of Grandma's tarts for an age four years 
 at least! Are they as good as they used to be? " 
 
 " Better ! " she hastened to affirm. " Grand- 
 ma's art of cooking, like Grandma herself, im- 
 proves with age." 
 
 " Good ! Then I shall walk up to the house 
 with you and wait for one of those tarts," he said 
 with instant decision. " Let me carry your pail ! " 
 He reached over to take the pail of berries. 
 
 " No ; you shall not carry my pail ! " she replied, 
 stepping aside and shaking her head teasingly. 
 " It is not heavy, I assure you. Besides, you like 
 raspberries too well to be trusted with my pail." 
 
 They were walking side by side now, with Milly 
 close in the rear. While he was somewhat piqued 
 at her words and manner, he chose to treat them 
 as jocular, and tried to keep up a running con- 
 versation of small talk as they moved over the un- 
 even ground. But her attention was so difficult to 
 hold, and her answers were so unsatisfactory that
 
 63 
 
 after a few vain efforts to interest her he gave up 
 in despair ; then both lapsed into silence. At any 
 other time he would have passed her moods unno- 
 ticed, or perhaps have taken them as an added 
 piquancy to goad him on to further exertions. 
 But that afternoon he was craving for sympathy, 
 and it pained him to see her non-responsive atti- 
 tude. It seemed to him that he had been rebuffed 
 at every turn, and his heart grew heavy with the 
 burden of it all. 
 
 " Oh, I had almost forgotten ! " she exclaimed 
 suddenly, standing stock still in the path and turn- 
 ing a pair of laughing eyes full on his face. " I 
 have a surprise for you ! " 
 
 " Surprise ? " he half questioned, responding 
 quickly to the sudden burst of animation in her 
 eyes and voice. " What is it? " 
 
 " Frank is home ! " she cried, her eyes fairly 
 dancing with delight. 
 
 " Frank home ! " he repeated, his face lighting 
 up with a pleased expression. " When did he 
 come ? " 
 
 " This morning," she answered gaily. Then 
 sobering instantly, she said, " Was it not queer, 
 though, that I should have forgotten his coming? 
 I suppose it was because he has been away so long." 
 They resumed their walk, and she went on chatting 
 about Frank until they reached the stone wall that 
 skirted the pasture along the roadside. 
 
 Robert was in the act of letting down the bars 
 for them to pass out of the pasture when Ruth
 
 64 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 exclaimed with a little sob of consternation in her 
 voice, 
 
 " Here comes Miss Crosby ! " 
 He looked round and saw the landau, and seated 
 therein the lady, to avoid whom he had taken to 
 the river nearly four hours before. It was ap- 
 proaching at full speed. He glanced hastily at 
 Ruth and burst into a merry laugh. Something 
 in her face told him that she too had heard the 
 story of his betrothal to this charming summer 
 visitor. He lowered the bars and stood aside un- 
 til Ruth and Milly passed over; then he took up 
 the long rail and had begun to replace it when the 
 carriage drove up and stopped. Robert paused 
 to raise his hat to Miss Crosby, and then went on 
 with his task of putting up the bars. 
 
 In the landau beside Miss Crosby sat Bell Cole, 
 stiff and stately. She had caught sight of the 
 trio about the same time that Ruth had recognized 
 the turnout, and she had given orders to the coach- 
 man to stop at the bars. She greeted Ruth 
 familiarly, introduced her to Miss Crosby, and 
 then kept up a flow of small talk till Robert, hav- 
 ing put up the rails, joined them in the road. 
 Then she turned her attention to him. 
 " Robert Cole " she began. 
 " Now, Sis, I know what you are going to say ; 
 I agree with every word of it. I have committed 
 an unpardonable offence ; but really I had for- 
 gotten about the lunch until it was too late for 
 me to dress. As one may as well be hanged for
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS SHOT 65 
 
 a sheep as a lamb, I chose the sheep ; so you must 
 apologize to Judge and Mrs. Gray for my ab- 
 sence as best you can without fibbing. Better 
 tell the truth and be on the safe side, for I may 
 confess my shortcomings to the judge himself 
 when I call." 
 
 Bell bit her lips in vexation ; and in no pleasant 
 tone, commanded the coachman to drive on. 
 
 Meantime, Ruth had crossed over to the oppo- 
 site side of the carriage where she opened a conver- 
 sation with Miss Crosby, who had leaned forward 
 to inspect her berries. One daintily gloved hand 
 rested on the edge of the landau, the other lay 
 negligently in her lap over a large bunch of Ameri- 
 can beauties. Ruth recognized the roses as com- 
 ing from the Oakwood conservatories, and her eyes 
 rested on them with a caressing glance. Whether 
 Miss Crosby saw the look in Ruth's eyes is not 
 known, but she quietly selected several of the larg- 
 est of the roses and handed them to her in a most 
 gracious manner. So charmingly was the offering 
 made that Ruth could not have refused the blos- 
 soms had she wished. She accepted them with a 
 smile of thanks. 
 
 Ruth had heard much of this magnificent Miss 
 Crosby during the past two years ; and though she 
 had seen her at a distance riding or driving along 
 the highway to and fro between Oakwood and her 
 uncle's, this was the first time she had met her 
 personally. She was now ready to concede as 
 true all the extravagant reports which had come
 
 66 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 to her ears concerning the beauty, grace, and 
 charm of Judge Gray's niece. As Bell had been 
 her principal informant, Ruth had paid little at- 
 tention to her rhapsodies. Beside, she had a sus- 
 picion of Bell's purpose, for Bell had taken con- 
 siderable pains of late to drop in on Ruth at the 
 most inopportune moments to retail with minute 
 exactness the progress of Robert's wooing of the 
 Boston beauty. 
 
 Though her heart beat a trifle faster as she 
 answered Miss Crosby's questions about the ber- 
 ries, Ruth showed no outward sign of embarrass- 
 ment. As for Miss Crosby, if any thought of 
 rivalry on the part of the pretty creature before 
 her crossed her mind, there was no shadow of it 
 on her face nor in her voice. Hardly more than 
 a dozen words were exchanged, yet few as they 
 were, in them, each felt the charm of the other's 
 personality. 
 
 At Bell's orders the coachman had whipped up 
 the horses and driven off, with Miss Crosby smil- 
 ing sweetly at Ruth on one side, and Bell frown- 
 ing darkly at Robert on the other. A moment 
 later the carriage whirled round the bend in the 
 road and was hidden from sight, leaving a cloud 
 of white dust in its trail. Beyond acknowledging 
 Robert's bow, Miss Crosby had paid no attention 
 to his presence, though in thinking of this after- 
 wards, Ruth laid it to her sense of delicacy in not 
 wishing to be a witness of his embarrassment when 
 Bell took him to account for his delinquency. To
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS SHOT 67 
 
 avoid the dust when the carriage drove away, Ruth 
 ran up the grassy bank and stood at the turn- 
 stile waiting for Robert to cross the road and 
 join her. 
 
 Robert, as the carriage rolled away, raised his 
 hat and stood peering through the dust after the 
 flying vehicle for a moment only, then his eyes 
 sought Ruth whom he spied at the stile. Dashing 
 across the road, hat in hand, he sprang up the 
 bank and stood beside her once more. 
 
 " It was certainly very careless of you, Mr. 
 Cole, to forget so important an engagement as a 
 luncheon to Judge Gray," reprimanded Ruth in 
 a very serious tone when he reached her side. " I 
 do not blame Bell for being angry with you; and 
 if I were Miss Crosby, I would never forgive you ! " 
 
 " Why ? " he asked, looking down at her with 
 a puzzling smile. 
 
 " Because of such negligence. You have 
 slighted not only Judge and Mrs. Gray, but also 
 Miss Crosby herself," she replied, as a shadow 
 flitted across her face. 
 
 It was while they were standing thus at the stile 
 that the scene between his father and her grand- 
 mother was being enacted. So absorbed had Rob- 
 ert been in the presence of his companion since the 
 moment she had called him back to a sense of his 
 living that he had not once raised his eyes to the 
 house on the hill, or he would have seen his father's 
 horse standing before the door. Neither had Ruth 
 troubled herself to look homeward during the last
 
 68 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 twenty minutes. And so they stood at the stile, 
 these two young people, looking into each other's 
 eyes ; and though not in the happiest frame of 
 mind, yet they were wholly unprepared for the 
 impending tragedy. 
 
 Milly had passed through the stile and had kept 
 on, walking leisurely, and was by this time nearly 
 half-way up the hill, at the top of which stood 
 Mrs. Bent awaiting her coming. Mrs. Bent's face 
 wore an impatient frown as she glanced first at the 
 flying horseman and then down at the two young 
 people below, and waited for Milly to approach 
 near enough to receive her orders. 
 
 Meanwhile Richard Cole was speeding down the 
 hill. 
 
 " If you were Miss Crosby, I shouldn't care a 
 continental whether you ever forgave me or not," 
 asserted Robert, after a short pause. " Besides," 
 he went on with a desperate gleam in his eyes, 
 " it is all your fault ! " 
 
 She raised her eyes to his face with a question- 
 ing stare. 
 
 Just at that instant the loud report of a gun 
 close by startled them ; and looking round in the 
 direction whence it came, they were horrified to see 
 a tiny cloud of white smoke floating out from a 
 clump of bushes near the carriage gate, scarcely 
 fifty yards from where they stood. They saw also 
 a horseman whom they both instantly recognized 
 reel in his saddle and drop over sideways. The 
 horse rose on his haunches in fright and then
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS SHOT 69 
 
 plunged madly forward, dragging the hapless 
 rider, who had become entangled in the stirrup, at 
 his heels. 
 
 On came the infuriated steed while Robert stood 
 as if paralyzed with fear. Recovering himself in 
 time, he sprang to the road and ran with out- 
 stretched arms to meet and head off the on-plung- 
 ing animal. He threw himself on its neck as it 
 dashed up, but the maddened horse shied and shook 
 him off as he would have shaken off a fly ; yet not 
 before Robert had caught the dangling rein, to 
 which he clung with the grip of a giant, and quickly 
 brought the trembling steed to a standstill. 
 
 By this time, Ruth had recovered her faculties 
 and was in the road beside him. While he held 
 the quivering horse, she released the foot of the 
 unfortunate man from the stirrup and bent over 
 to examine him. With her handkerchief she wiped 
 the blood and dirt from his face, only to find her 
 worst fears realized. With one glance at the 
 bloody and battered features of the father, she 
 turned away with a sickening dread, and raised 
 her eyes with a look of dumb agony to the face 
 of the son. 
 
 He understood. The rein slipped from his nerv- 
 less grasp, and he staggered to the side of his 
 father. Lifting the limp form as if it were that 
 of a child, he carried it across the road and laid 
 it gently down on the grassy bank. Then his 
 strength seemed to desert him, and sinking down 
 beside the loved form, he looked up helplessly at
 
 70 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 Ruth, who had followed him up the bank. He 
 seemed dazed and unable to act further. 
 
 Fortunately, Mrs. Bent, from her position on 
 the hill, had seen all that had happened, even to 
 the flash of the rifle from the bushes, and lost no 
 time, after recovering from her first shock, in reach- 
 ing the side of the injured man. Joe hastened 
 after her, while Milly's hysterical screams at- 
 tracted the attention of several hired men at work 
 in a nearby field, and brought them in quick time 
 to the scene. 
 
 Taking in the situation at a glance, Mrs. Bent 
 gave her orders right and left with the confidence 
 of a trained general. She dispatched one of the 
 men for a doctor, ordered the others to carry the 
 wounded man up to the house, sending Ruth and 
 Milly on ahead to prepare the bed, hot water, and 
 bandages, while she delegated Joe to carry the 
 sad news to Mrs. Cole. 
 
 Her alertness brought Robert to a sense of his 
 position ; and the hopes raised by her words in- 
 fused new strength into his limbs. He rose to his 
 feet as the men took up the beloved form of his 
 father, and as they moved slowly up the steep ter- 
 races, he walked beside them, holding the still warm 
 hand of his father in a loving clasp. 
 
 But Richard Cole was even then beyond recall, 
 and the weight of his millions had already shifted 
 to the shoulders of his son.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 THE ARREST 
 
 Mark Gibson was working in his garden when 
 the messenger arrived with the news of the trag- 
 edy. At first he would not credit the report. It 
 was too horrible to believe; and he stared at Joe, 
 who had hastened over to Mark's after delivering 
 his message to Mrs. Cole, like a man suddenly 
 gone daft. But finally, when he did give it cre- 
 dence, a fearful suspicion entered his mind. No 
 details had been given him nothing but the bare 
 facts that Mr. Cole had been shot down in cold 
 blood near the entrance of the Bent grounds. 
 
 Mark staggered into the house and broke the 
 news to his wife. " Richard Cole has been shot 
 and is dead," he gasped as he sank limp and breath- 
 less into a chair, and sat gazing at her with a 
 horrified, half questioning stare. 
 
 For a moment she too seemed dazed; then she 
 seemed to read his thoughts, and a flash of re- 
 sentment darkened her eyes. He had told her at 
 the dinner table of his talk with Robert and of 
 Robert's proposed interview with his father, so 
 that she quickly caught the drift of his thought. 
 
 She was a woman of quick wit, keen insight, good 
 
 71
 
 72 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 judgment, and of considerable force of character, 
 and generally acted to the point without much fuss 
 or waste of energy. 
 
 " No, Mark Gibson, I don't believe it ! Robert 
 Cole wouldn't kill a chicken if he were starving; 
 so get any notion of that kind out of your head 
 at once! Now pull yourself together and change 
 your clothes and get up there as soon as you can ! 
 They will need you." 
 
 This was the spur that he needed ; and in a very 
 short time, he was on his way to the scene of the 
 tragedy. A few minutes' walk brought him to the 
 bridge that spanned the river just below the curve 
 where it swept round the grounds of the Cole es- 
 tate. He was walking rapidly, with his head 
 bowed on his breast and a half dazed expression 
 on his face, when suddenly, as he neared the end 
 of the iron structure, the crooked form of Dick 
 Stanton swung clumsily over the rail and landed 
 in front of him. 
 
 Mark seemed startled by the sudden apparition 
 of the young man, and stood stockstill, staring 
 blankly at him. 
 
 " I hope you don't take me for a ghost, Mr. 
 Gibson," said Dick with a forced laugh, which gave 
 his face a diabolical cast that sent a shiver over 
 Mark. 
 
 " No, Dick," replied Mark, pulling himself to- 
 gether, " I should be more likely to take you for 
 an imp of darkness ; but the fact is, you came upon 
 me so unexpectedly that I didn't have time to think
 
 THE ARREST 73 
 
 at all. Have you heard anything about the death 
 of Mr. Cole ? " Mark eyed him nervously as he 
 asked the question. 
 
 "The death of Mr. Cole!" repeated Dick in 
 surprise. "No; is he dead?" His large 
 brown eyes dilated with a look of infinite delight ; 
 and his hand went unconsciously to his cheek, 
 where a long red streak marked the imprint of the 
 whip-lash. 
 
 " So I have been told. I am on my way up to 
 Mrs. Bent's where he was shot down in cold blood, 
 and now lies dead." Mark moved away as he 
 spoke. 
 
 " I guess I'll go up with you, if you don't mind." 
 And without waiting for an assent to his pro- 
 posal, he swung himself over to Mark's side and 
 dropped into step. 
 
 Mark frowned as he heard the shuffling foot- 
 steps and saw the ungainly shadow of the repulsive 
 little being at his side. He quickened his pace 
 as if he would fain shake off the detestable pres- 
 ence. Dick tried his best to keep up with the 
 rapidly increasing strides of Mark ; but after cov- 
 ering a short distance, he had fallen so far in the 
 rear that he gave up the attempt, and finally 
 changing his mind, he faced about and trudged 
 leisurely homeward. 
 
 Mark hastened forward and arrived at the gate 
 of the Bent place just as the carriage containing 
 Bell and Judge Gray dashed up. Seeing Mark, 
 the coachman drew rein and invited him to ride
 
 74f THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 up the hill. Mark sprang into the carriage and 
 seating himself beside Bell, laid his cold hand 
 gently on hers in silent sympathy. Thus they 
 rode up the hill to the house, where they found 
 Robert pacing nervously back and forth on the 
 veranda, waiting the coming of Bell. Mrs. Cole 
 had already arrived and was in the parlor with all 
 that was earthly of the husband whom, with all 
 his faults, she dearly loved. 
 
 All was still bustle and confusion in and about 
 the house. The hurrying hither and thither of 
 messengers, and the constant arrival of friends and 
 neighbors as the news was bruited abroad, kept the 
 excitement up to a feverish pitch. Strange as it 
 may seem, it was not until Mark Gibson arrived 
 that anyone thought of looking for the assassin. 
 By this time the whole town of Coleville had been 
 aroused, and crowds of excited men, women, and 
 children were hastening along the highway towards 
 the place of the murder. 
 
 It didn't take Mark long to dispatch a messen- 
 ger for the sheriff, nor to call Judge Gray's at- 
 tention to the necessity of an immediate search of 
 the premises. The judge agreed with him, and 
 taking the responsibility on himself in the absence 
 of the sheriff, he organized a searching party of 
 the first half dozen men who had arrived on the 
 scene. Walking to the edge of the level, accom- 
 panied by Mrs. Bent, he instructed them to begin 
 their investigation at the spot where the fatal shot
 
 THE ARREST 75 
 
 had been fired, and to follow any and all clues that 
 would lead to the apprehension of the murderer. 
 Mrs. Bent herself pointed out the exact clump of 
 bushes whence the flash of the rifle came. 
 
 The men started down the hill in hot haste. 
 Not a man spoke on the way down, for each 
 seemed to be awed by the gravity of his mission. 
 A dastardly crime had been committed and it was 
 their duty to run down the perpetrator. Would 
 he prove to be one of their own workmates? Each 
 felt in his own heart that such might be the case, 
 for Richard Cole had been a hard taskmaster in 
 many ways and had made many enemies in his 
 time. With these thoughts running through their 
 minds they reached the spot as indicated by Mrs. 
 Bent ; and almost the first obj ect their eyes rested 
 on was a double-barreled gun leaning against a 
 tree on the edge of the thicket. George Hillis, the 
 foremost of the party, seized the gun with trem- 
 bling hands. A deathly pallor overspread his face, 
 for he had recognized the gun the instant his eyes 
 rested on it. The men pressed closely about him 
 while he examined it. One barrel was empty. A 
 further examination revealed a small silver plate 
 on the butt end, on which was inscribed the owner's 
 name, " Frank Bent." The men looked at each 
 other in breathless silence. 
 
 " But Frank isn't at home," explained one of 
 the party, as if answering a question none dared 
 to ask.
 
 76 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " Are you sure he is not at home? " asked Hillis 
 eagerly, grasping at the suggestion as a drowning 
 man might grasp at a straw. 
 
 " Sure I am ! Do you think Frank Bent'd be 
 at home two hours and not come down to see us 
 fellows? You know better'n that yourself, 
 Hillis ! " he answered with an assurance born of 
 perfect confidence in the loyalty of Frank Bent 
 to his old friends. 
 
 " Then we had better report our find to the 
 judge; he'll know what to do with it, and direct 
 our next move," said Hillis, turning to retrace 
 his steps up the long, steep hill. 
 
 Accordingly, the party trailed back to the 
 house, discussing their find with bated breath. 
 They were met on the veranda by Judge Gray, 
 into whose hands Charlie Hillis gave the gun, at 
 the same time explaining where and how he found 
 it. 
 
 " A very important clue," said the judge in his 
 most judicial tone. "A very important clue!" 
 he repeated, turning the gun round and examin- 
 ing it carefully. " Now the next step is to find 
 the owner, which ought not to be difficult, for this 
 is no common weapon. It must belong to 
 Frank Bent ! " he aspirated as his eyes caught the 
 name on the plate. 
 
 Ruth had come to the door just as Hillis 
 mounted the steps of the veranda, and seeing 
 Frank's gun in his hand, she was suddenly seized 
 with a great terror. Her heart seemed to stop
 
 THE ARREST 77 
 
 its beating. Clutching the door for support, she 
 stood as if turned to marble, though her mental 
 faculties were keenly alert. She listened to all 
 that passed between Hillis and Judge Gray as in 
 a dream. When her brother's name escaped the 
 lips of the judge, she instantly regained all her 
 powers, and turning, she dashed through the long 
 corridor and into the kitchen which she had seen 
 Frank enter by the rear door only a few moments 
 before. 
 
 Frank was leaning over the sink where he had 
 just placed a fine string of fresh fish in a pan 
 when she burst wildly into the room, and threw 
 her arms about his neck, sobbing hysterically, 
 
 " Oh, why did you do it, Frank, why did you 
 doit!" 
 
 " Do what, Sis ? " asked Frank in surprise, look- 
 ing down into the terror-stricken face of the weep- 
 ing girl. 
 
 " Then you didn't do it ! Oh, tell me you didn't 
 do it, Frank! It would kill me to know you did 
 it ! " she cried pitifully, drawing his face down and 
 kissing it tenderly. 
 
 He folded her in his arms and tried to soothe 
 her. 
 
 " Come, Ruth, try to calm yourself and tell me 
 what I have or have not done to cause you so much 
 distress ; then I can answer for myself," he said 
 with a smile of assurance as he stroked her head. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Cole has been killed," she gasped, 
 making a desperate effort to control herself, " and
 
 78 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 your gun has been found near the place where the 
 shooting occurred. One barrel is empty and 
 and I fear they they think you did 
 it!" 
 
 Frank's face became ghastly and for a second 
 he could not speak. The solemn expression in his 
 eyes showed how keenly alive he was to the danger 
 confronting him. 
 
 " When did it happen, Sis ? " he asked presently 
 in a husky voice. 
 
 " Less than an hour ago," she replied between 
 sobs. 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " Down at the carriage entrance. He had been 
 up to see Grandma and when he reached the gate 
 on his way out, someone shot him from the bushes. 
 Oh, it was dreadful! He was brought here and 
 Mrs. Cole and Bell were sent for. Didn't you see 
 the crowds on the road and on the lawn in front 
 of the house? " 
 
 " No, Sis, I saw nothing. I came over the fields 
 and up through the orchard." 
 
 " Judge Gray is out there and when Charles 
 Hillis gave him your gun and he read the name 
 on it, everybody looked as if they thought you had 
 committed the deed. But you didn't, did you? " 
 
 There was a depth of pathos in her question, 
 in which there was mingled a shade of doubt and 
 fear. She appeared almost beside herself and 
 clung to him desperately. The strain of the past 
 hour had been intense and had taxed her endur-
 
 79 
 
 ance to its utmost. She had been brave and help- 
 ful through all of the terrible ordeal; had given 
 freely of her sympathy to Robert, Bell and Mrs. 
 Cole ; had been here, there, and everywhere at her 
 grandmother's bidding; all of which had been a 
 drain on her strength and had left her weak and 
 almost helpless to meet the shock of this awful 
 suspicion. Frank saw the agonizing pain in her 
 face and hastened to alleviate her sufferings. 
 
 " No, Sis," he said solemnly, " on my honor I 
 did not shoot Mr. Cole! I have not fired a shot 
 from that gun or any other gun since eight o'clock 
 this morning, when I cleaned it. At that time I 
 tried two shots in the orchard. Don't you re- 
 member coming out to see what I was firing at ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, I remember ! " she admitted, laugh- 
 ing hysterically. " Of course you didn't do it ! 
 Come out quick and tell them so ! They are all 
 on the veranda ! " And she literally dragged him 
 across the room. 
 
 Reaching the door, he placed his shoulder 
 against it, and disentangling her arms from about 
 his neck, he held her trembling hands in a vice- 
 like grip while he looked into her eyes and said 
 in a very serious voice, 
 
 "Now, Sis, this will never do. You must let 
 me answer for myself in my own way. This is a 
 very grave matter and it may require all my wits 
 to defend myself. If a breath of suspicion is at- 
 tached to my name, they will very likely rake up 
 that old score between Mr. Cole and me as a mo-
 
 80 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 tive for my committing the deed. In that case I 
 may have difficulty in convincing them of my in- 
 nocence. You must calm yourself and be brave; 
 and if worst comes to worst, you must help Grand- 
 ma to bear up. Promise me that you will do 
 this ! " 
 
 " I will do my best, Frank ! " she replied, gulp- 
 ing down a sob. 
 
 He stooped and kissed her; then opening the 
 door, they passed out in silence and together, hand 
 in hand, walked through the long, spacious hall 
 leading to the veranda. 
 
 The sheriff had arrived immediately after Ruth 
 had rushed off to inform Frank of what she had 
 overheard, and had been given a detailed account 
 of the shooting and of the finding of the gun. He 
 had called Mrs. Bent and had questioned her about 
 the rifle. She had admitted that it was the prop- 
 erty of her grandson ; that he had come home that 
 morning for a short visit ; that he had taken the 
 gun out with him early in the afternoon to go 
 gunning for skunks and had not yet returned. 
 
 Frank and Ruth reached the threshold just as 
 the sheriff began to deliver himself of his official 
 formula, and paused to listen. 
 
 " I am sorry for you, Mrs. Bent," he said in 
 subdued tones, " but my duty compels me to search 
 your house and arrest your grandson, Frank Bent, 
 for the murder of Richard Cole, Esq." 
 
 Mrs. Bent staggered backward into the arms of
 
 THE ARREST 81 
 
 Frank, who had stepped from the threshold at that 
 moment to face his accusers. 
 
 " No need to search the house, Mr. Sheriff ; 
 here I am ready to account for myself," said 
 Frank in a hoarse voice. Then stealing a glance 
 at the ashen face of his grandmother, and think- 
 ing that she had fainted, he turned and was about 
 to lift her bodily and carry her into the house when 
 a restraining hand was laid on his shoulder. It 
 was the hand of the law. 
 
 " Frank Bent," came the sheriff's voice, cold, 
 hard, and inflexible, and loud enough to be heard 
 on the remote edges of the crowd which had gath- 
 ered in front of the house, " in the name of the 
 Commonwealth I arrest you on a charge of mur- 
 dering Richard Cole." 
 
 Frank's face grew a shade paler; his lips con- 
 tracted convulsively ; and his arms tightened round 
 the form of his grandmother, but he did not speak. 
 All of which was noted by the excited throng and 
 construed as a sure sign of guilt. 
 
 Mrs. Bent, however, had not fainted. She had 
 merely been stunned by the sheriff's words, as if 
 by a blow. The touch of Frank's arms about her, 
 and the sound of his beloved voice in her ears kept 
 her tottering senses from failing her entirely. As 
 she felt the gentle pressure of her boy's protecting 
 arms her strength gradually returned, and a de- 
 licious sense of security stole over her. She felt 
 as if she had just awakened from a horrible night-
 
 82 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 mare to find herself in the arms of her darling 
 boy. But the illusion was soon dissipated, for the 
 next words of the sheriff pierced her heart like a 
 knife and brought her to a full realization of the 
 danger surrounding him. She roused herself, and 
 throwing her arms about his neck, clung to him 
 with the energy born of despair. Her lips quiv- 
 ered, but the only sound that escaped them was 
 a low, heart-rending moan. 
 
 Frank looked appealingly at Ruth, who still 
 stood on the threshold where he had left her, as 
 motionless as a marble statue. She understood 
 the mute appeal and responded with alacrity. As 
 she unclasped the fingers of her grandmother from 
 about his neck, she whispered with commanding 
 force, 
 
 " Tell them you didn't do it, Frank ! " 
 
 He made her no reply ; but taking his grand- 
 mother's face between his cold palms, he said in a 
 firm voice, 
 
 " Don't be alarmed, Grandma ; this will come 
 out all right. You have always had such faith in 
 me; don't give it up now, just when I need it 
 most ! " Then he handed her over to Ruth and 
 faced the crowd. 
 
 The first person he encountered as he wheeled 
 about was Robert Cole, who stood between Judge 
 Gray and Mark Gibson. Robert had made a 
 movement towards Frank when his old playfel- 
 low first stepped upon the veranda ; but Mark Gib-
 
 THE ARREST 83 
 
 son had laid a restraining hand on his arm and 
 held him back. Robert's face was pale, and his 
 eyes were red with weeping. He looked like a man 
 on the verge of a collapse. As their eyes met, 
 Frank read the half doubting, half accusing ques- 
 tion in Robert's eyes, those eyes that had never 
 before looked into his with a shadow of misgiving. 
 Frank held out his hand, yet Robert made no move 
 to take it, because Mark Gibson still retained a 
 heavy hand upon his arm. Thus they stood, fac- 
 ing each other in ominous silence for the space of 
 several seconds, when Frank spoke: 
 
 " Robert Cole, we have long been friends. No 
 man here knows me better than you do. I ask 
 you now, as man to man, can you believe that I 
 killed your father? " 
 
 " Before answering that question, let me ask 
 another," said Robert slowly, keeping his eyes fixed 
 on Frank's face. 
 
 " Go on ! " said Frank, returning Robert's 
 steady gaze. 
 
 " Did you fire that shot? " 
 
 " No ! On my word of honor as a man, no ! 
 I have not had that gun in my hands, nor any 
 other gun, since two o'clock this afternoon when 
 I stood it up against the juniper tree near the 
 carriage entrance and told Joe to take it up to 
 the house." 
 
 His words and manner were earnest and con- 
 vincing in their sincerity. At least they struck
 
 84 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 Robert so. To others of the bystanders, how- 
 ever, their very earnestness was only another proof 
 of a guilty conscience. 
 
 " I believe you, Frank ! " cried Robert, break- 
 ing away from Mark and grasping the outstretched 
 hand in both his own. " I did not want to think 
 you could commit such a dastardly deed, Frank ! 
 Indeed I did not," he sobbed. 
 
 How Ruth's heart beat with joy at these words ! 
 She had seen Mark draw Robert back when he 
 made his first attempt to greet Frank, and she 
 feared the influence of this self-appointed guard- 
 ian of the Cole interests. But now Robert had 
 spoken for himself, she took new courage, and 
 turning, she led her grandmother into the house 
 with a somewhat lighter heart and a steady step. 
 
 " You say that you told Joe to carry the gun 
 up to the house ? " broke in the sheriff. 
 
 " Yes," replied Frank firmly. 
 
 " Then where is Joe? " There was a sneering 
 smile on the sheriff's face which clearly betrayed 
 his doubts of the truth of Frank's words. 
 
 " Here ! " answered a voice from below ; and Joe, 
 the gardener and man-of-all-works about the place, 
 pushed his way through the crowd and ascended 
 the steps. 
 
 " Well, and what have you to say for your- 
 self?" asked the sheriff, fixing a pair of pierc- 
 ing gray eyes on Joe. 
 
 " It is true, sir, what Master Prank says about 
 the gun." His voice trembled and his tongue
 
 THE ARREST 85 
 
 clove to the roof of his mouth. That he was 
 frightened was plain to be seen ; for the pallor of 
 his face and neck was visible through the heavy 
 coat of tan the accumulation of years in the 
 open air in all sorts of weather. 
 
 " Take no stock in him ; he's in the plot ! " 
 shouted a voice from the crowd which had been 
 growing in numbers momentarily, and which was 
 now beginning to show a menacing attitude towards 
 Frank. 
 
 Both the sheriff and Judge Gray had noticed 
 the increasing agitation of the rabble. Each mo- 
 ment the throng pressed closer and closer about 
 the veranda and appeared to grow more restive 
 under the horrible suspense that seemed to perme- 
 ate the very air. It had grown excessively hot 
 and humid during the last hour. The breeze had 
 sunk to a breathless calm, and the sultry rays of 
 the declining sun beat upon the upturned faces 
 of the excited crowd with maddening effect. 
 
 The sheriff saw danger lurking in the askance 
 glances which followed every move of those on the 
 veranda, and he saw that he must act cautiously 
 in order not to rouse the demon of the mob. 
 
 There seemed to be a settled conviction in the 
 minds of the assemblage that Frank was the cul- 
 prit ; and there seemed also to be a growing sus- 
 picion that Robert stood ready to clear him of 
 the crime provided he could foist it upon one of 
 the mill hands. Every second brought the crisis 
 nearer.
 
 86 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 The mob now began to exhibit an ugly resent- 
 ment. The dark, scowling glances were followed 
 by low hootings and catcalls, which in turn gave 
 place to a fusillade of epigrams, interspersed with 
 opprobrious terms that made the air look blue in 
 short order. Nor was this opprobrium directed 
 wholly against Frank. The sheriff and Judge 
 Gray came in for their full share, for desperate 
 men are no respecters of persons. 
 
 " The law should have no favorites ! " came from 
 one side. *' We'll stand for no whitewashing of 
 the rich, no smooching of the poor ! " was hurled 
 from the other. " Put the crime where it belongs 
 and hang the criminal, and let's have no fooling 
 about it ! " floated up from the outer edge of that 
 sweltering mass of humanity. This brought a 
 chorus of " Hear ! hear ! " 
 
 The situation was becoming more critical and 
 hopeless of control every moment. It was evident 
 that something must be done quickly to relieve the 
 strain and to break down the false impression un- 
 der which the crowd was laboring. The sheriff 
 knew how futile it would be to attempt to argue 
 with such a mob. As well try to get the attention 
 of a raving maniac. There was only one course 
 open to him ; so taking Frank by the arm, he led 
 him into the house, leaving the judge to deal with 
 the people as best he could. 
 
 Judge Gray took his cue from the sheriff and 
 quietly waved the importunate curious off the ver- 
 anda ; and addressing the crowd, advised them to
 
 THE ARREST 87 
 
 disperse at once and go peaceably to their homes. 
 He assured them that justice would be best served 
 by allowing the law to work out in its regular way. 
 His advice was heeded rather reluctantly, for a 
 full hour elapsed ere the lawn was cleared of the 
 last intruder. 
 
 Meanwhile, the sheriff had taken Frank through 
 the house and out by the rear door, and the two 
 men were well on their way to the county jail be- 
 fore anyone, except the immediate members of the 
 family, were aware of their departure. 
 
 It was half past seven when the key turned in 
 the lock of the cell door, and Frank found himself 
 a prisoner in a stuffy, six-by-twelve apartment, 
 into which the last rays of the evening sun were 
 struggling through a narrow, iron-barred window 
 on a level with his chin. He was tired and hungry. 
 When his supper was brought in he ate it with a 
 relish that surprised his jailor. Soon after, 
 stretching himself on his cot, he fell into a heavy 
 slumber and slept the sleep of the innocent until 
 broad daylight in the morning. 
 
 " He must be either a hardened criminal or a 
 fool to show so little concern about the stretching 
 of his neck," commented the sheriff, in telling of 
 Frank's coolness and his readiness to let the law 
 take its course. " His whole anxiety centers 
 about his grandmother and Ruth. As to his own 
 fate, he is perfectly callous, says he knows where 
 he stands and has nothing to fear." 
 
 The next day being the Sabbath, there could be
 
 88 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 no hearing for poor, unfortunate Frank. And to 
 his further discomfort, he was informed early 
 Monday morning that, owing to the feverish ex- 
 citement still dominating the villagers, it was 
 deemed wise to postpone the hearing till after the 
 funeral of Mr. Cole, which had been arranged to 
 take place on Tuesday afternoon. Thus it would 
 be Wednesday at the earliest before he could hope 
 to be heard. 
 
 Despite all these delays and discouragements, he 
 accepted the situation with philosophical fortitude. 
 There was no growling, no grumbling, and no com- 
 plaining over his hard lot. His confidence in his 
 ability to clear himself at the proper time was 
 unbounded, and lent a cheeriness to his air that 
 proved a source of inspiration to his grandmother 
 and Ruth when they visited him on Sunday after- 
 noon and brought him a basket of dainties.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 It was nearly ten o'clock on that eventful night 
 when the body of Richard Cole was borne from 
 the door of the Dale Farm. Well had Richard 
 Cole kept his word of fifty years ago, " never to 
 darken the door of the Dale Farm until he came to 
 lower the haughty head of Myra Dale ! " Truly 
 he had accomplished his mission, but in a manner 
 he had never designed. Never was the old proverb, 
 " Man proposes but God disposes," more piti- 
 lessly carried out. 
 
 The head of Myra Bent was indeed bowed with 
 sorrow, anxiety, and fear ; yet for all that, she felt 
 a sense of relief and could breathe more freely 
 when she saw the vehicle bearing the remains of her 
 old-time admirer move slowly down the hill from 
 her door. It was as if a cloud had lifted, even 
 though she knew that the shadow of death still 
 hung heavily over her house. 
 
 The coroner had come early in the evening and 
 viewed the remains; he had heard the testimony 
 of everyone who could throw any light on the 
 murder; after which we had very solemnly an- 
 nounced his official opinion to the effect " that a 
 
 89
 
 90 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 foul murder had been committed ; and that there 
 was sufficient evidence to detain Frank Bent on 
 a charge of murder." Permission was then given 
 to remove the murdered man to his own home. 
 
 Mark Gibson had proved the worth of the silent 
 man from the moment he had arrived on the scene. 
 He had taken his wife's advice, pulled himself to- 
 gether, and stepped into the breach when every- 
 one else seemed to be at their wit's ends. He was 
 the last to leave the house. 
 
 " Mrs. Bent," he said kindly, as he took her 
 cold hand on parting, " I am truly sorry for you 
 in this hour of trial. God knows you, above all 
 women on earth, little deserve this cross ! " 
 
 It was all he could say, and that nearly choked 
 him ; but he meant it every word of it because 
 he knew the sterling worth of the dear old soul 
 better than anyone else, outside of her own family. 
 He dropped her hand and hurried out into the 
 night, as if he dared not wait for an answer. Her 
 eyes followed him distrustfully as he mounted the 
 seat beside the undertaker and drove off. 
 
 A smile of contempt curled her lips. He had 
 always been so closely allied with the interest of 
 Richard Cole, and so ready to do his bidding, that 
 she could hardly credit her own ears. Ages 
 seemed to have rolled over her head since he had 
 spoken to her so courteously before. She stood in 
 the doorway as one half dazed, and watched the 
 vehicle till it disappeared behind the jutting wood-
 
 AN UNEXPECTED CALL 91 
 
 land in the road below. The voice of Ruth 
 brought her back to the present. 
 
 " Come, Grandma, Milly has made such a de- 
 licious cup of chocolate for us, and insists on our 
 drinking it before we retire," and an arm stole 
 gently round her waist and led her off into the 
 dining-room. 
 
 The household was astir early in the morning 
 so early that it seemed as if no one had actually 
 gone to bed ; and judging from the haggard faces, 
 the night had brought very little repose to the 
 four anxious beings who composed the household. 
 Slowly they moved about the house, making a pre- 
 tense at doing something, yet accomplishing noth- 
 ing. All appeared to be oppressed with the same 
 thought, that they were practically prisoners 
 being held as important witnesses for the govern- 
 ment against Frank. Joe especially was weighed 
 down with the burden of his remission. Like a 
 conscience-stricken penitent, he had bewailed his 
 negligence to Mrs. Bent, Ruth, and Milly; but he 
 had gathered little consolation from their sorrow- 
 ful attempts to comfort him. Their very kindness 
 condemned him ; and he went away more miserable 
 than before. 
 
 Thus the forenoon dragged wearily along. In 
 the afternoon Mrs. Bent and Ruth drove over to 
 the jail to see Frank and to carry him some dain- 
 ties and a few necessary articles of clothing. 
 They had just returned from their visit, very
 
 92 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 much distressed in spirits, when Mrs. Gray and 
 her niece were announced. 
 
 Mrs. Bent was wholly taken by surprise. Mrs. 
 Gray was the last person whom she would expect 
 to call under present circumstances ; for it seemed 
 likely that her husband would be the presiding 
 judge at the coming hearing of the charges against 
 Frank. Since she had chosen to call, Mrs. Bent 
 could not see her way clear to refuse to receive her. 
 Accordingly, the callers were ushered into the par- 
 lor, where Mrs. Bent and Ruth presently joined 
 them. 
 
 As an apology for their calling at such an in-, 
 opportune time, Mrs. Gray explained, on introduc- 
 ing her niece, that Miss Crosby, having deferred 
 her going home on Saturday evening on account 
 of the death of Mr. Cole, was obliged to leave on 
 the seven o'clock train that evening, and that she 
 wished to meet Mrs. Bent before leaving. 
 
 " Yes, Mrs. Bent," affirmed Miss Crosby, ex- 
 tending her hand with a sad little smile of womanly 
 sympathy, " I did want to meet you. You see I 
 am not a stickler on etiquette, as my aunt is. I 
 waited all last year for a call from your grand- 
 daughter, but it came not a fact which some 
 folks might resent and sulk over, but that is not 
 my way. When I want to meet people, why, I 
 just meet them. I have heard so many charming 
 things about you that I really did want to meet 
 you before I went away ; so I determined to brave 
 Aunt Gray's horror of the unconventional, and
 
 93 
 
 make the first call." Then she patted the soft, 
 withered hand which had clasped her own, and still 
 held it, and continued : " You have shown such 
 a strong, courageous spirit under the trying or- 
 deal of this terrible calamity, which seems to have 
 fallen on you with almost overwhelming force, that 
 I wanted to express to you personally my sincere 
 admiration as well as my sympathy ; and to bid 
 you hope for the best. Somehow, I feel confident 
 that everything will come out all right for you and 
 yours." 
 
 " Thank you, dear, for your kind words ; I 
 hardly deserve them," said Mrs. Bent, dropping 
 some of the icy reserve with which she had received 
 her guests. " It is true that your aunt and I have 
 not been very neighborly of late years," she went 
 on after a moment's pause, unconsciously retain- 
 ing the hand of the beautiful girl in a gentle clasp. 
 " Just whose fault it is I can not say. Perhaps 
 it is mine, for I do not get around as spry as I used 
 to do when I was younger. As for Ruth, she has 
 been away at school so much during the last few 
 years that I like to keep her near me when she is 
 at home. This may be selfishness on my part." 
 
 There were other and stronger reasons which 
 she might have given had she cared to go into de- 
 tails. 
 
 The facts were these: Judge Gray's estate 
 joined her own on the west. Their houses, how- 
 ever, were situated nearly three miles apart cross 
 lots, and much further by the road, which pre-
 
 94 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 eluded any intercourse of a strictly neighborly 
 character between the two families. The calls, 
 therefore, never frequent, had grown fewer and 
 more formal each year until finally, after the eleva- 
 tion of Henry Gray to the bench, they had ceased 
 altogether. Meantime, a trifling difference had 
 risen between the two families over Frank. The 
 Grays had no children of their own; and the judge 
 used to find fault about Frank's getting into his 
 orchard and climbing his apple-trees after robins' 
 eggs. Once the judge caught Robert Cole and 
 Frank high-handed. He gave Frank a severe 
 shaking, and also threatened him with dire punish- 
 ment if he ever caught him there again. But 
 he let Robert go without even a reprimand. 
 
 At the time this happened Ruth was only a little 
 girl ; but she never quite forgave the j udge for 
 his discrimination. She would not have cared so 
 much about his shaking Frank if he had shaken 
 Robert also. She knew it was Robert who led 
 the raids every time; and she considered it an act 
 of injustice to score the full brunt of the offence 
 against Frank. 
 
 " It was a wicked shame for him to make such 
 a distinction between the boys ! " she had exclaimed, 
 stamping her little foot in rage, while the angry 
 tears ran down her flushed cheeks, as she recounted 
 the occurrence to her grandmother. " Robert 
 Cole deserved a shaking just as much as Frank 
 did, and Judge Gray knew it; but he didn't dare 
 to shake Robert, because he knew if he did, Mr.
 
 95 
 
 Cole would shake him ! And if my father were here 
 he wouldn't dare to shake Frank either! He's a 
 coward, if he is a judge! And when I grow up 
 I'll tell him so ! " 
 
 It had taken considerable of Grandma's diplo- 
 macy to appease her anger and to soothe her 
 wounded pride. After that incident, nothing 
 could induce Ruth to set foot on a sod of ground 
 belonging to the Grays. And now she had another 
 grievance against the house of Gray. This time 
 it was Mrs. Gray who fell under the ban of her 
 resentment. For in some unaccountable way, an 
 idea had lodged in her stubborn little head that 
 Mrs. Gray was in collusion with Mrs. Cole and 
 Bell to catch Robert for her beautiful niece. For 
 this reason, she had shunned her on all occasions, 
 when she could do so without being actually rude. 
 Even in spite of Mrs. Gray's friendly show of 
 sympathy in this trying hour, Ruth would have 
 left her grandmother to meet her alone had not 
 Miss Crosby been with her. 
 
 As it was, she hailed this visit with a sort of in- 
 ward satisfaction. She wanted to see more of 
 Miss Crosby, the lady whom gossip said Robert 
 Cole was to marry. Yes, he would surely marry 
 her. There was nothing else for him to do in the 
 light of what had happened. Sooner or later the 
 object of Mr. Cole's visit must become common 
 property. Mr. Cole had positively announced 
 Robert's engagement to Miss Crosby. Her grand- 
 mother had told her all about it ; and at the same
 
 96 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 time had scathingly condemned Robert for what 
 she was pleased to call " his supreme deceitful- 
 ness." So far as she herself was concerned, the 
 past was dead. Nothing could ever again be as 
 it had been. The great love which had become 
 part of her very being, almost before she was 
 aware of its existence, must be crushed out, even 
 though the light of her own soul went out with it 
 in the struggle. She had settled that point as 
 she tossed on her pillow during the long, weary, 
 sleepless hours of the night. She had carefully 
 weighed the matter and made her renouncement. 
 It had required no small effort on her part to make 
 the decision ; but once made, she took up the battle 
 bravely. She had seen where the murder of Rich- 
 ard Cole and accusation of Frank had raised a 
 barrier between her and Robert Cole that nothing 
 on earth could ever remove from her memory. 
 And so in the quiet hours of the early dawn, she 
 had solemnly renounced her idol. 
 
 And so, sitting there, facing her beautiful rival, 
 watching every graceful gesture and change of 
 poise, drinking in every liquid note of that mellow 
 voice, she might have been likened to a neophyte 
 in the hall of misery sitting before the shrine of her 
 favorite fetich gloating over her own self-torture. 
 There was no pang of jealousy to mar the moments 
 as she thought of how she had resigned Robert 
 to the love of this fascinating woman. Neverthe- 
 less, a dull, heavy pain tugged at her heart ; and
 
 AN UNEXPECTED CALL 97 
 
 in spite of her efforts to appear at ease, her lips 
 quivered like those of a hurt child when ashamed 
 to cry. It never entered her innocent little head 
 to blame Robert for having fallen in love with 
 Miss Crosby. Why shouldn't he fall in love with 
 her and want to marry her? And why shouldn't 
 she fall in love with him and want to marry him? 
 Oh, it was all right; just as it should be; only! 
 This was as far as she got in her reasoning when 
 her callers rose to go. 
 
 The call had been short, scarcely ten minutes in 
 length ; yet it seemed almost an eternity to Mrs. 
 Bent and Ruth. Mrs. Gray tactfully avoided all 
 reference to Frank and the shooting; but in doing 
 so, she was placed at a disadvantage in a choice 
 of topics. This made her appear more painfully 
 formal than usual in the eyes of Mrs. Bent, who 
 looked relieved when she rose to take her departure. 
 
 On the other hand, Miss Crosby was as natural 
 and charming as could be desired. While her 
 aunt sat prim and stiff on a straight-backed chair, 
 Miss Crosby lounged with a restful poise, on a 
 willow tete-a-tete, and in her winsome way tried 
 to drive the shadows from Ruth's face. There 
 was nothing gushing, nothing affecting, nothing 
 flippant about her. She was just a sweet, lovable 
 girl for the time being, whose charms Ruth could 
 not resist for the life of her. 
 
 Ruth was fascinated. Never in her life before 
 had she met so enchanting a personality; and her
 
 98 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 heart gave a little qualm of despair as she stood 
 on the veranda and watched her drive away after 
 that ten minutes' call. 
 
 " She is a handsome woman and no mistake," 
 remarked Mrs. Bent, as her eyes followed the reced- 
 ing carriage with manifest interest. 
 
 " Yes," agreed Ruth in a choking voice. 
 
 Mrs. Bent turned quickly and cast a furtive 
 glance at her granddaughter, and noted with dis- 
 may the pallor of her cheeks and the tightly- 
 drawn, bloodless lips. She spoke not a word. She 
 simply took the suffering girl in her arms, and 
 caressed her tenderly. This was the last straw. 
 Ruth knew that her grandmother understood at 
 last ; and bursting into tears, she sobbed out her 
 grief on that loving breast. 
 
 A streak of golden sunshine, sifting through 
 the branches of the overhanging elms, fell aslant 
 the venerable face of Grandma Bent, and brought 
 out in bold relief the saintly glory of the woman 
 who could pause in the depth of her own suffering 
 to assuage the pain of youth. 
 
 Mrs. Bent, known the country round as 
 " Grandma Bent," was a tall, stately woman on the 
 verge of seventy, every year of which had been 
 spent on this grand old place, variously called 
 " Dale Farm," " Bent Place," or simple " Bent's." 
 All the joys and sorrows of her long life had been 
 centered in and around this house, over which she 
 had presided, in one capacity or another, for over 
 sixty years. She was born here ; had been married
 
 AN UNEXPECTED CALL 99 
 
 here ; and her two sons had also been born here. 
 From here she had followed mother, father, hus- 
 band, and last, her youngest son, and had seen 
 each in turn laid in the little churchyard below. 
 
 Her first great sorrow had come when she was 
 scarcely ten years of age, in the death of her 
 mother. Her father, having married late in life, 
 was about sixty-five years of age at the time of 
 his wife's death; but owing to ill health, he ap- 
 peared much older. The shock of his great loss 
 left him in a state bordering on imbecility ; and he 
 clung to Myra, his only living comfort, with a 
 pathetic helplessness that was painful to witness. 
 This imposed an onerous duty on the young girl, 
 a duty which, being of an affectionate nature, 
 she took up with childish delight and performed 
 for fifteen years with unabated devotion. 
 
 When she was in her eighteenth year, Richard 
 Cole, or Dick Cole, as he was then called, became 
 an ardent suitor for her hand. He was a poor 
 boy, an apprentice in the one small machine-shop 
 of which the village boasted at that time. He was 
 in his twenties, rather homely and slovenly in ap- 
 pearance, and of a miserly disposition, and had, 
 with all his other drawbacks, an ungovernable tem- 
 per. While he was not the sort of young man to 
 appeal to such a loving, dainty creature as Myra 
 Dale, yet for all that, there was something attrac- 
 tive about him, something that won the confidence 
 of his associates and made him master of his own 
 fate before he was thirty.
 
 100 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 For various reasons Myra disliked him. On the 
 other hand, her father admired him, and took a 
 deep and lasting interest in his welfare. He was a 
 constant visitor at the farm and succeeded in mak- 
 ing himself absolutely necessary to the old man's 
 comfort and happiness. That he loved Myra Dale 
 passionately, blindly, and madly, he made no pre- 
 tense to hide. He bore the fact in his face, in his 
 voice, in his swagger, when she was near, as a sort 
 of keep-off-t he-grass warning to other young men 
 who might be tempted to try a hand in the winning 
 of Myra Dale; and that she disliked him with an 
 equal intensity of feeling was well known. This 
 made Dick's wooing vastly more interesting to the 
 country gossips than it might otherwise have been. 
 It served also to rouse his indomitable tenacity ; 
 and he haunted her steps like a shadow. 
 
 As Mr. Dale grew feebler, he grew fonder of the 
 young man, and put forth his best endeavors to 
 induce Myra to accept him and settle down in life. 
 He wanted to see her married before he passed 
 away. It could not be, she had told them both 
 over and over again. Still they persisted, each in 
 his own way, in pressing the suit until Myra grew 
 to detest the young man from the very depths of 
 her soul. His presence acted as an irritant on 
 her, and at last she said some very sharp things 
 to him. 
 
 Myra did not like the influence he seemed to 
 have gained over her father, and did her best to
 
 AN UNEXPECTED CALL 101 
 
 counteract it. But it was too late ere she began; 
 and rather than aggravate her father's pettish- 
 ness by opposing him in this matter, she contented 
 herself by simply quitting the room when Dick 
 entered, and thus putting the stamp of her dis- 
 approval on his visits. 
 
 But this did not seem to faze him in the least. 
 He continued to call until the death of her father. 
 He called once after, and only once; and when he 
 left, he made his threat " never to enter her door 
 again until he came to humble her haughty head." 
 She only laughed at the threat and congratulated 
 herself that she had won out in the contest. 
 
 After that she took up the burden of settling 
 up her father's somewhat tangled affairs. It was 
 then she learned what Dick's fawning friendship 
 for her father meant. She knew he had borrowed 
 money from her father to secure a patent, money 
 which he had never returned; but she was unpre- 
 pared for the fact that he had also procured deeds 
 from her father to acres of the best and most 
 valuable lands of Dale Farm. 
 
 She knew little about business and less about 
 law, for her father had kept his business matters 
 to himself up to the last moment of his life. Still 
 she felt such a transaction could not be a square 
 deal. She consulted Judge Gray, who was at that 
 time a struggling young attorney in the village; 
 and he suavely advised her to let the matter rest, 
 explaining that Richard Cole's title was too secure
 
 102 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 to be disturbed. Years after, she learned to her 
 chagrin that it was Henry Gray himself who had 
 drawn up the deeds. 
 
 She was nearly thirty when she married John 
 Bent and for a few years she lived an ideal life. 
 Then her husband died and left her with their two 
 sons to bring up and educate. They grew to 
 young manhood under her care and guidance and 
 went forth from the home roof to make homes for 
 themselves. And again she found herself alone on 
 the old place. But a charm still clung to it ; a 
 charm that could not be found in any other spot 
 on earth ; a charm that drew the wanderers back 
 to its protecting shelter in their time of sorest 
 need. 
 
 It was here that the younger son came home 
 to die ; and it was here the older one had brought 
 his two motherless children, Frank and Ruth, 
 after the death of his wife. Frank was twelve, 
 and Ruth seven, when John brought them home to 
 his mother. Mrs. Bent took them at once to her 
 loving heart ; and it was through these two wor- 
 shipping children that she gained the sobriquet 
 of " Grandma Bent." 
 
 Meantime, Richard Cole too had married and 
 two children, Robert and Isabell, had come to 
 brighten his home. When the Bent children came 
 to the Bent Place, Mrs. Cole had welcomed them 
 to the neighborhood as fitting companions for her 
 two children. She had never heard of her hus- 
 band's early infatuation for her stately neighbor,
 
 AN UNEXPECTED CALL 103 
 
 nor had she heard of his business dealings with 
 old Mr. Dale. She had met Mrs. Bent at church 
 and had always heard her spoken of as a woman 
 of strong character and lofty ideals; beyond this, 
 she never inquired. She often wondered, how- 
 ever, why Mrs. Bent did not call on her; but after 
 awhile, even this ceased to annoy her. 
 
 The children became almost inseparable. Their 
 homes seemed to possess a sort of interchangeable 
 easement, by the way they romped from one house 
 to the other ; and Mrs. Bent was " Grandma " to 
 all four. They attended the same school, a small 
 private academy in the adjoining town, going to 
 and fro on the train every day. Those were the 
 days of happy childhood, which passed all too 
 rapidly for those most concerned. The years of 
 youth and maidenhood came on apace and dawned 
 under pleasant auspices for these four young be- 
 ings. 
 
 Frank Bent was two years older than Robert 
 Cole. A big, free, open-hearted lad he was, who 
 would give his coat to any ragged urchin in the 
 village and go without himself. Very early in his 
 school days Frank acquired a taste for public 
 speaking. He was a ravenous reader and a keen 
 observer; and as he grew older, he developed 
 rather radical ideas on many and various ques- 
 tions. He was about eighteen when he began to 
 frequent the homes of the workmen in the village 
 and take an interest in the men and boys. He 
 held meetings among them and propagated his
 
 104. THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 ideas of the rights and wrongs of society right and 
 left; and finally went so far as to take Mr. Cole 
 himself to task for allowing certain conditions to 
 exist in the village. 
 
 This brought down on his head the wrath of 
 Mr. Cole who, up to that time, had been gra- 
 ciously indulgent to the grandchildren of Myra 
 Dale, as he persisted in calling Mrs. Bent. After 
 this bit of presumption on the part of the young 
 reformer, Frank very soon found himself persona 
 non grata, not only at Oakwood, the residence of 
 the Coles, which had been his second home for so 
 many years, but also in the village, where Richard 
 Cole's word was law absolutely. 
 
 Ruth was always loyal to her brother. Where 
 he could not go, she would not ; consequently, there 
 was a sudden cessation of the frolicsome days 
 between Oakwood and the Dale Farm. 
 
 When Mr. Bent heard of the episode between 
 Mr. Cole and Frank, he at once decided that he 
 himself should have charge of the youth's future 
 education. In accordance with this decision, 
 Frank was sent for. On the morning of his de- 
 parture for his new home, Frank had a stolen in- 
 terview with Robert and Bell Cole, and tearful 
 good-bys were spoken amid vows of eternal friend- 
 ship. Then he wandered about, bidding good-by 
 to the streams, the woods, and to everything most 
 dear to his loving young heart in and about the 
 place. When he kissed Ruth and his grandmother 
 for the last time, as the train pulled up at the
 
 AN UNEXPECTED CALL 105 
 
 grimy little station, it was with a sense of utter 
 loneliness rankling in his heart. He boarded the 
 train and departed in a somewhat rebellious mood 
 to begin his new life. 
 
 That was six years ago. But the people had 
 not forgotten the incidents leading up to Frank's 
 going away ; or, if they had forgotten them, the 
 foul murder of Richard Cole on the very day of 
 the young man's return quickly revived the old 
 story with new significance. And this was what 
 Mrs. Bent most feared. 
 
 After Frank's departure Ruth found life on the 
 farm rather lonesome. The light of the place 
 seemed to have gone with him. But she loved her 
 grandmother with such an idolatrous love that she 
 never complained. The following year Ruth went 
 off to boarding school ; and as Bell Cole attended 
 the same school, the two girls very naturally picked 
 up the broken threads of their old friendship, and, 
 in the language of the school, became quite 
 chummy. 
 
 It was during their second year at school that 
 Bell learned of Robert's growing attachment for 
 Ruth. Then the tragedy of Robert's life began. 
 He was forbidden to visit the Bent homestead, or 
 to hold any communications with any member of 
 the family. Being a dutiful son, Robert never 
 thought of disobeying the injunction of his father; 
 and for four years he held aloof from the dearest 
 friends of his life. 
 
 Meanwhile, Bell and her mother laid plans of
 
 106 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 their own for Robert. Bell had left school at the 
 close of her second year, fully equipped for her 
 duties in her social world. Robert had entered 
 Harvard and Mr. Cole had taken a house in Bos- 
 ton, so that there should be no break in the family 
 circle while Robert was attending college. Dur- 
 ing the winter months Mrs. Cole and Bell made 
 quite a stir in society ; they entertained lavishly, 
 and were entertained in return ; and during the 
 summer months Oakwood held open doors, and was 
 seldom free of visitors. 
 
 Robert was in constant demand as an escort 
 when they went abroad, or as an entertainer when 
 they stayed at home. He submitted gracefully 
 to their dictates, and all went well until one morn- 
 ing, several weeks prior to that eventful day of 
 his father's tragic death, he happened to stumble 
 across Ruth Bent sitting on the bank of the river, 
 fishing. At sight of her, the old boyish love welled 
 in his heart ; and in spite of her cool greeting, his 
 father's injunction, or Bell's and his mother's 
 plans, he sat down beside her and watched her 
 fish. 
 
 At first, his efforts at conversation were some- 
 what strained; but after awhile he grew bolder, 
 and then something of their childhood's freedom 
 and confidence sprang up between them. 
 
 After this meeting, he began to take great in- 
 terest in fishing, a sport for which he had had 
 no inclination as a boy, but for which he had sud- 
 denly developed a mania. Every clear day, com-
 
 AN UNEXPECTED CALL 107 
 
 pany or no company at the house, he would paddle 
 up the river to the oak on the edge of the Bent 
 estate, simply to fish. If Ruth was there before 
 him, well and good ; if not, he would wait her com- 
 ing, for he knew she would come, because she had 
 taken it upon herself to supply Grandma's table 
 with fresh fish. She had told him so on the day of 
 their first meeting, and had also told him her hours 
 for fishing. Thus he was able to plan his excur- 
 sions so as to join her in the sport. 
 
 Ah, what happy days those were ! They would 
 sit and fish and chat like two contented children 
 until she had caught her usual supply. Then he 
 would walk through the pasture with her as far as 
 the stone wall. Here he would stand and watch 
 her up the hill, and dream his daydreams, and won- 
 der what life would be to him without her. 
 
 But the lynx-eyed Bell soon learned of these 
 clandestine meetings; and not wishing to rouse 
 her father's anger against Robert just at this 
 time, she did the next best thing in her power to 
 put a stop to the meetings. She informed Grand- 
 ma Bent, who very quickly set a quietus on her 
 fears by telling her that Ruth had too much sense 
 to trouble her head about such a coxcomb as 
 Robert Cole had developed into. Nevertheless, 
 Grandma Bent took the precaution to warn Ruth ; 
 and thereafter, when Ruth went fishing, or berry- 
 ing, or to the village on errands, Milly was her 
 inseparable shadow. And thus matters stood on 
 that eventful day of Richard Cole's tragic death.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 NELL STANTON 
 
 Tuesday came in the natural course of time, 
 though to some of our friends it had seemed as if 
 the very sun had stood still in the heavens, so 
 slowly did the moments drag along during the 
 interval between the death of Richard Cole and 
 the hour set for his burial. In the village, how- 
 ever, there had been no lagging of time ; for rumors 
 and counter-rumors had kept the villagers on the 
 qui vive from the rising to the setting of the sun, 
 and long after. 
 
 Early in the forenoon on that memorable Tues- 
 day, after a short private service at his late home, 
 the body of Richard Cole was borne to the little 
 church on the verge of the village, where it lay in 
 state till the hour of the public obsequies in the 
 afternoon. This was done to afford the workmen 
 an opportunity to view for the last time the face 
 of their dead employer; and also to allow them 
 the privilege to attend the services if they so 
 desired. 
 
 It was natural for the family to assume that the 
 workmen would wish to pay a last sad tribute of 
 
 respect to the memory of him in whose employ 
 108 

 
 NELL STANTON 109 
 
 many of them had spent the greater part of their 
 lives ; and the manner in which the villagers flocked 
 to avail themselves of this privilege justified the 
 assumption. 
 
 All morning a steady stream of solemn faced 
 men, women, and children poured in and out of 
 the church, and then hung about the outside in 
 groups, discussing the sad affair and speculating 
 on the probable outcome of Frank Bent's hearing. 
 There was considerable sympathy expressed for 
 Frank, and many hoped that he could clear him- 
 self, though they shook their heads doubtfully. 
 Long before the hour set for the service, the church 
 was crowded to its full capacity, and still there 
 were many unable to gain admittance. 
 
 The carriages containing the family and the 
 specially invited friends had rounded into the 
 square and were moving slowly towards the church. 
 All eyes were turned in the direction of the car- 
 riages and did not see the approach from the op- 
 posite point of a tall, heavily veiled woman, 
 dressed in deep mourning. She joined the on- 
 lookers just as the ushers came down the steps 
 to make a passageway for the mourners. 
 
 The crowd parted right and left and stood in 
 awed silence as the widow with bowed head, cling- 
 ing to Robert's arm on one side and to Bell's on 
 the other, passed by and up into the church. The 
 occupants of the last carriage had alighted and 
 were walking solemnly between the files of that 
 curious throng, when the woman in question pushed
 
 110 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 her way into the opening and fell in directly be- 
 hind the mourners, and moved with a half solemn, 
 half defiant air up the steps and into the church. 
 
 " Nell Stanton ! " somebody gasped. 
 
 If she heard the ejaculation, she deigned not to 
 notice it; for she pressed on with a callous in- 
 difference to aught they might say, think, or look. 
 
 The people stood as if rooted to the spot, while 
 all eyes followed her with looks of mingled aston- 
 ishment, anger, pity, or disgust, according to their 
 individual ways of looking at life. When she dis- 
 appeared within the vestibule, the crowd drew a 
 long breath and looked at each other in silence. 
 
 Meanwhile, the object of their questioning 
 glances, nothing daunted by the craning of necks, 
 kept close in the rear of the mourners. Down the 
 aisle she passed, and slipped into the only va- 
 cant seat among the friends of the family, as if 
 she were there by some right or special privilege. 
 In the semi-darkness pervading the church she was 
 not recognized until after she had taken her seat 
 and had thrown back her veil, and then only by 
 those nearest to her. Her presence, however, 
 could not remain a secret very long. Judging 
 from the sly nudges, whispers, and glances which 
 were bandied from one to another after she had 
 raised her veil, it seemed as if the people had been 
 expecting her; and presently, many eyes were 
 focused upon her face, much to the annoyance 
 of Mark Gibson, who sat immediately behind her. 

 
 As for her, she sat like a statue during the en- 
 tire service, gazing straight ahead at the casket 
 with a look of melancholy, indescribable in its 
 pathos, in the depths of her tearless, dark eyes. 
 
 The benediction had been pronounced. The 
 larger part of the congregation had passed out 
 of the church, and were wending their way to the 
 graveyard in the rear. The invited guests of the 
 family had also taken a last look at the face of 
 him whom they had loved and respected as friend 
 or business associate, and were passing slowly 
 down the aisle to the vestibule, where they were 
 to wait till the casket should be closed and borne 
 out, when they were to take their places in the 
 solemn procession which was to follow the re- 
 mains to their last resting place. Only the fam- 
 ily, the bearers, the ushers, Mark Gibson, and 
 Nell Stanton remained. 
 
 Nell had risen when the close friends of the 
 deceased had been called, and would have followed 
 as one of them, but ere she could take a step, she 
 had been forced back into her seat by a restrain- 
 ing hand that was laid heavily on her shoulder 
 from across the pew behind her. She turned her 
 head slightly and met the cold, penetrating gaze 
 of Mark Gibson. She heeded the silent warning 
 and kept her seat. 
 
 But when the chief usher raised a significant 
 finger to Robert Cole and the family rose, Nell 
 rose with a defiant air, and angrily shaking off
 
 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 the hand which Mark had again laid on her shoul- 
 der, she glided swiftly out of the pew and down 
 the aisle towards the bier. 
 
 For a second only Mark hesitated; then rising 
 softly, he grimly followed the angry woman. 
 Nell reached the casket just as Robert and Bell 
 were leading their almost fainting mother away. 
 She paused as they brushed past her, and a visible 
 shudder passed over her frame. It was evident 
 her overweening assurance was deserting her, for 
 her face had grown deathly white and passive as 
 if chiseled from a bit of flawless marble. She 
 approached the bier and stood for a moment gaz- 
 ing silently into the casket. Then her pent up 
 feelings gave way, and she sobbed audibly. She 
 leaned forward, as if to press the cold, silent lips 
 of the dead ; but ere she could carry out her pur- 
 pose, Mark Gibson had reached her side, thrust 
 his arm between her and the casket, and forced 
 her back. 
 
 " For God's sake, don't make a show of your- 
 self ! " he breathed, compelling her to move on 
 by the sheer power of his own steady advance, 
 as he half supported, half pushed her tottering 
 form along. 
 
 Ere they had taken a half dozen steps, she was 
 master of her emotions. With an indignant little 
 flourish she shook herself free of Mark's guiding 
 arm, drew down her veil, and with a firm, haughty 
 step brushed past the group of mourners, and 
 disappeared through the vestry door.
 
 NELL STANTON 113 
 
 Robert Cole was the only member of the family 
 who saw Mark's little by-play; and he wondered 
 who the woman was. But in the rush of events 
 of the next week, the scene slipped his memory 
 and was not recalled for over two years, when it 
 returned with wonderful vividness. 
 
 Aside from this little incident in the church, 
 nothing occurred to break the perfect carrying 
 out of Mark Gibson's well-laid plans. The fu- 
 neral train passed out of the church and into 
 the cool fragrance of the shady yard at the rear, 
 where Richard Cole was laid beside his kin with 
 all the pomp and honors befitting a man of his 
 station and wealth. There were tears and lamen- 
 tations over him, for he was loved by many. 
 There were words of genuine praise, eulogistic in 
 the highest degree, for he was a business man 
 of recognized sterling ability, and was valued for 
 the power he could wield in the business world. 
 Besides, those who spoke knew only the best side 
 of the man, the side that Richard Cole presented 
 for the inspection of the world into which he had 
 glided during the later years of his life when suc- 
 cess had crowned his efforts in his reach for 
 wealth, and his highest ambitions were in a fair 
 way of being realized. Moreover, his tragic 
 death had thrown a sort of halo about him which 
 silenced, for the time being, the tongues of the 
 chronic busybodies. But silence from some quar- 
 ters often speaks a louder condemnation than 
 words, as a calm precedes a storm. And there
 
 114 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 was in some quarters an ominous silence as to the 
 moral worth of the man. 
 
 However, no man is quite so bad as his enemies 
 paint him, nor yet so good as his friends would 
 have us believe him to be. And in justice to the 
 memory of Richard Cole, be it said that he was 
 neither a saint nor a devil. He was simply a 
 man, born with a fair balance of the common vir- 
 tues and vices of his sex, chief among the vices 
 being an insatiable greed for getting and hoard- 
 ing money ; and this became the dominating fac- 
 tor of his life up to the very moment of his un- 
 fortunate death. Wealth was his god, and he 
 worshipped it with a power which he wielded to 
 his own advantage at all times. 
 
 That he had been successful in all of his un- 
 dertakings was due to his natural shrewdness and 
 tenacity of purpose. He would have flipped his 
 fingers in the face of anyone who had dared to 
 hint that luck played any part in the game for 
 him. This success had enhanced his innate self- 
 conceit, and puffed him up with his own impor- 
 tance far beyond his merits. 
 
 He had made mistakes, grievous mistakes, 
 mistakes that caused him no little annoyance 
 during his later life, mistakes that he felt him- 
 self powerless to rectify without disgracing his 
 family and exposing himself to the open contumely 
 of his dearest friends. This he had not the cour- 
 age to do. Position, respect, honor, love had all 
 been won at too great a price to be sacrificed as
 
 NELL STANTON 115 
 
 an atonement for the mistakes of youth. So he 
 went on year after year, rejoicing at his continual 
 successes in keeping the gossips at bay. 
 
 It is hard to measure accurately the good by 
 comparison with the evil men do, consciously or 
 unconsciously, in a lifetime devoted to an ambi- 
 tious grasping of power. All men of power are 
 tyrants. Whether his chosen field of activity be 
 social, political, industrial, or religious, only let 
 a man feel his power to dominate; let him exert 
 that power with the self-consciousness it usually 
 excites, and at once he becomes a tyrant, petty 
 or strong, according to the make-up of the man. 
 Few men will admit this ; nevertheless, the fact 
 remains. 
 
 It was growing dusk when Mark Gibson, weary 
 almost to exhaustion, reached his own gate on the 
 day of the funeral. He had had a strenuous time 
 of it for the last three days and nights. Owing 
 to his confidential relation to Mr. Cole, the whole 
 family seemed to turn to him in their hour of ex- 
 tremity, and to throw on him the responsibility 
 not only of the planning and carrying through 
 of the obsequies, but also of the shying off of the 
 morbidly curious from obtruding their possibly 
 well-meant, but harassing, sympathy on the mem- 
 bers of the bereaved family. 
 
 A soft stillness hung over the village, a stillness 
 befitting the close of a day of gloom. Mark 
 paused at the gate and raised his eyes to the dis- 
 solving lights in the sky above the hills in the
 
 116 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 west. Under the shifting lights of the twilight 
 his face looked a trifle sallower and his eyes a 
 shade more faded than usual. The stoop in his 
 shoulders, too, appeared more pronounced; and 
 a weary, listless air marked his every movement. 
 Taken altogether, he seemed to have aged twenty 
 years since we saw him in his office on Saturday 
 noon. 
 
 He took off his hat so that the dew-laden 
 breezes might blow unimpeded over his throbbing 
 temples ; then folding his arms across the railing 
 of the gate, he leaned heavily upon them and re- 
 signed himself to the soothing influence of the 
 evening hush. 
 
 " Feel pretty well fagged out, I suppose ? 
 Well, I don't wonder at it; for you've done the 
 work of three men for the last twenty-four hours, 
 to my knowledge." 
 
 The voice startled him and brought him back 
 to earth with a disagreeable thud. Up to that 
 instant he had fancied himself alone. The voice, 
 with its well-modulated mockery coming out of 
 the misty silence around him, struck a chill 
 to the very marrow of his bones. He turned 
 sharply and faced the speaker with an ugly 
 scowl. 
 
 "Well?" he jerked out nervously when he 
 could command his voice. 
 
 "Well?" she repeated, with a mocking laugh. 
 " You see I did not take your advice." 
 
 " I see." His tone was sharp ; but it did not
 
 NELL STANTON 117 
 
 seem to affect her in the least. " Well ! and what 
 do you want? " 
 
 " What is due me and mine," she answered 
 calmly. 
 
 He peered about into the shadows as if to make 
 sure they were alone ere he spoke. Having con- 
 vinced himself that the coast was clear, he asked 
 slowly, 
 
 "And what may that be?" 
 
 " As if you didn't know ! " she sneered. There 
 was an ugly light gathering in her coal-black 
 eyes. 
 
 " I fear I must plead ignorance," he drawled 
 with exasperating coolness. 
 
 " Come, Mark, we may as well understand each 
 other first as last. I want my allowance, which 
 is several months overdue." She tossed her head 
 with a defiant air and Mark caught the ugly glint 
 in her beautiful black eyes. There was something 
 dangerously determined about her whole attitude 
 which said louder than words : " Beware of the 
 serpent ! " 
 
 Mark, however, was not in the humor to be 
 browbeaten into doing anything against his own 
 sweet will. He remained silent for a full minute, 
 eying her closely the while.. 
 
 " But you broke your agreement in allowing 
 that brat to come back to the village." 
 
 His words seemed to sting her, for she bent for- 
 ward with clenched hands as though she would 
 spring at him.
 
 118 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " You evidently forget that he is twenty-two, 
 and no longer under my control. He has a mind 
 of his own, too, and a temper not unlike his 
 father's. He is here to stay this time ; so you 
 must make the best of it." 
 
 " You can control your own movements, 
 though," he slurred ; " why are you here ? " 
 
 " Because I was sent for." 
 
 "By whom?" 
 
 " My uncle Jack." 
 
 "When?" 
 
 " Saturday night." 
 
 " For what purpose? " His voice had grown 
 very harsh. 
 
 "Good God! have you not heard? Oh, I for- 
 got ! Of course you have not heard about my 
 mother; you have been too deeply engrossed in 
 other matters." Her voice trembled and she 
 paused to check the sob that rose in her throat. 
 
 " No I haven't heard; what is it? " He looked 
 at her keenly. 
 
 " She had a shock Saturday afternoon when 
 my Dick told her of the murder. She just 
 dropped on the floor in a heap and never regained 
 consciousness. She died this morning about six." 
 She wiped a tear from her eye. " Now you can 
 understand," she went on after a moment's pause, 
 " why I am here. Perhaps you can understand 
 also why I shall remain for the present, and why 
 I want my allowance."
 
 NELL STANTON 119 
 
 " But you broke your agreement ; besides, he 
 is dead ; and death abrogates the agreement." He 
 looked nervously about him as he spoke. 
 
 " Not this agreement ! " she said with a very 
 determined air. 
 
 " Yes, this agreement ! " he answered firmly. 
 
 " What do you take me for, a fool ? If you 
 do, cut it out? I haven't been up against the 
 rough edges of the world for twenty-three years 
 without learning a point or two about bringing 
 obstinate people to terms. What provision has 
 he made for the future? " 
 
 " None that I know of." 
 
 " And you would be likely to know ? " 
 
 " I would." 
 
 " In that case, what would you advise me to do? 
 Shall I appeal to Robert or Bell? Perhaps you 
 would suggest the Missus? " Her words were 
 wickedly calculating, and set Mark's teeth on 
 edge. 
 
 "For God's sake, Nell, have you no heart?" 
 The words came from his lips like a breath of 
 agony. 
 
 She laughed a little fiendish laugh, and taking 
 a step nearer, almost hissed in his ear, 
 
 " You do well to ask such a question, you who 
 know how I have been made to suffer that others 
 might revel in peace and luxury. But one may 
 tire of playing the sacrificial lamb " 
 
 " Of course," he broke in with exasperating
 
 120 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 irony, " and you have played the lambkin so ad- 
 mirably all these years ! " A low, brutal laugh 
 issued from between his distorted lips. 
 
 " Come, Mark, I am older than I was twenty- 
 three years ago ; I am no longer a child to be 
 trifled with," she said in cold, set tones. And 
 Mark, catching the dangerous flash in her eyes 
 as she tossed her head back in angry scorn, in- 
 wardly admitted the truth of her words ; though 
 outwardly he maintained the same impenetrable 
 front. " I know what belongs to me and I mean 
 to have it or there will be hell to play. Now what 
 do you propose to do? " 
 
 " Nothing ! There is nothing I can do ! " he 
 said with a negative shake of his head. 
 
 " Then I know what I can do ! " she said de- 
 cisively, turning on her heel as if to go. 
 
 He caught her arm, and held her in a vice-like 
 grasp. 
 
 "What do you mean?" he asked hoarsely. 
 
 " I mean to expose the whole rotten business ! " 
 she exclaimed angrily, trying to shake his hand 
 off her arm. 
 
 " Just a moment, Nell," he said hoarsely. 
 " How much do you want ? " 
 
 " All that's coming to me." A gleam of cun- 
 ning shot into her eyes and marred the lingering 
 remnants of beauty of her face. 
 
 " How much is that ? " he asked casually. 
 
 " You ought to know ; you are the banker,"
 
 NELL STANTON 121 
 
 " But I don't know ; and I am the banker no 
 longer." Mark was losing his patience. She 
 saw the frown gathering on his face, and knowing 
 the danger of pressing him too far, she answered 
 in a more conciliatory tone, 
 
 " I think I could get along with a hundred." 
 
 " I haven't got so much money with me. I can 
 let you have fifty." He took out his wallet as 
 he spoke, and counted out the money, wondering 
 the while whether he was doing a wise thing. But 
 he was tired and wanted to be rid of her, and there 
 appeared nothing else for him to do. 
 
 " That will do for the present," she said calmly, 
 as her fingers closed over the crisp bills. " Good 
 night ! " and Mark again stood alone in the 
 shadow. 
 
 " Curse her," he muttered savagely. Then sud- 
 denly his mood changed. A softening light stole 
 into his eyes and he soliloquized almost tenderly, 
 " But why should I curse her ! Has she not been 
 sinned against more than she has sinned? And 
 now her mother is dead she must stay at home and 
 keep house for her father and that brat. Well, 
 God works in a mysterious way. But how will 
 it all end? " 
 
 He opened the gate and passed in. Mrs. Gib- 
 son, hearing his step on the walk, hurried to open 
 the door. She met him on the threshold with a 
 smile of welcome. The light from the hall shone 
 full on his face and intensified the lines of care
 
 122 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 and anxiety. He had no need to tell her how 
 nearly exhausted he was. Her solicitous eyes saw 
 for themselves. And her wifely instincts told her 
 it was no time to ask questions. So she led the 
 way into the sitting-room in silence.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 THE TRIAL 
 
 Ten o'clock Wednesday morning had been 
 finally set for the arraignment of Frank Bent on 
 a formal charge of shooting Richard Cole with 
 intent to kill. 
 
 It is surprising what an avalanche of evidence 
 public opinion can ferret out to convict a man 
 before he has a chance to present a word in his 
 own defense. Frank's case was no exception to 
 the ordinary run of murder charges. During the 
 three intervening days since the shooting many 
 wild rumors were set afloat, many of which were 
 the sheerest kind of fabrications. 
 
 The government had prepared its case with ex- 
 ceeding care, and according to rumor, had evi- 
 dence enough to convict the prisoner in the first 
 degree. It was impossible to see how he could 
 escape the gallows. 
 
 While the state had been working up its case, 
 the defense had not been idle. The first train 
 Monday morning had brought Frank's father 
 with one of the best criminal lawyers in the state. 
 After getting an account of Frank's movements 
 
 on the day of the murder, his counsel went to work 
 
 123
 
 with a will and worked night and day to weld 
 together the links in his chain of defense. On the 
 morning of the trial his one weak point was a 
 missing witness. While this caused him no end 
 of anxiety, yet he hoped for the best. 
 
 Owing to the standing of both families in the 
 community, the interest in the hearing was wide- 
 spread. Long before the hour set for the open- 
 ing, every available seat and foothold in the little 
 stuffy court-room was occupied. The corridors 
 too were filled to overflowing with friends, enemies, 
 and the morbidly curious who take a fiendish de- 
 light in the grewsome details of murders and of 
 other depicted horrors. So intense was the in- 
 terest in the hearing that the shops were obliged 
 to close, because everyone either was in the court- 
 house, or hanging about it. 
 
 The hour of the hearing was at hand. Look- 
 ing somewhat pale from his three days' confine- 
 ment, though otherwise hopeful and cheery, the 
 prisoner was led into the court-room. His coun- 
 sel was already at his post and rose to meet him 
 with a cheering smile and a hearty hand clasp. 
 Frank glanced anxiously over the sea of upturned 
 faces, and meeting the eyes of his grandmother 
 and Ruth, smiled encouragingly, and then seated 
 himself beside his counsel. Robert Cole sat di- 
 rectly behind him, yet he had not noticed him when 
 he took his seat. Robert leaned over as if to 
 speak to Frank, but Bell, who sat beside him, laid 
 a restraining hand on him and held him back.
 
 THE TRIAL 125 
 
 Mr. Bent came forward and took his seat beside 
 Frank; and almost immediately the court was 
 called, and the hearing began. 
 
 The first witness called was Charles Hillis, who 
 testified to the finding of the gun. His testimony 
 was corroborated by several of those who were 
 with him when the gun was found. The gun was 
 produced and identified and exhibited to the court 
 as the weapon with which Richard Cole met his 
 death. Every fact in connection with the gun 
 was brought out with telling effect ; the bullet, 
 which had been extracted from the head of Mr. 
 Cole, was also produced and shown to be of the 
 same make and caliber as the one still remaining 
 in the rifle. 
 
 There was no denial to all this on the part of 
 the defense. 
 
 It was when the prosecution undertook to con- 
 nect Frank with the shooting, and to concoct a 
 motive from that almost forgotten affair between 
 him and Mr. Cole, that the real battle began. 
 
 Joe, the man-of-all-work, was next called, and 
 after identifying the gun as Frank's, told his 
 story somewhat as follows: 
 
 " Master Frank was cleaning his gun in the 
 barn about ten o'clock Saturday morning, when 
 I told him there was a nest of skunks somewhere 
 in the wood below the hill that had been giving 
 us a whole lot of trouble all summer ; and he said 
 he'd tend to their hides after dinner. About two 
 o'clock in the afternoon I was down near the gate
 
 126 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 trimming the hedge, when he came down with his 
 gun on his arm. Carlo, his dog, was with him. 
 I pointed out where I suspected the nest to be, 
 and then went on with my work. 
 
 " He and Carlo beat about the bushes for some 
 time, perhaps an hour, when he called to me and 
 told me to go up to the house and bring down 
 his fishing rod and a spade to dig bait with. I 
 went up to the barn and brought down his rod and 
 a box of fresh bait that I had dug for Ruth that 
 morning. He took up the rod and bait, and 
 pointing to his gun which stood against the juni- 
 per tree, he told me to take it up to the house 
 when I went up. Then he and the dog started 
 off up the brookside towards the pond. That 
 was the last I saw of him till after his arrest." 
 
 " Well, and what about the gun ? " asked the 
 district attorney, rather impatiently. 
 
 " I went back to my work and forgot all about 
 the gun," continued Joe. " I wanted to finish my 
 trimming before night, so I worked my way up 
 the hill on the hedges and had reached the high 
 level when Mr. Cole rode up and dismounted. 
 Mrs. Bent was sitting on the veranda and rose 
 to receive him. I dropped my shears and started 
 over to take his horse ; but Lord ! before I had 
 taken a dozen steps, he had flung himself into 
 his saddle again and went dashing down the hill 
 like wildfire. Mrs. Bent came down the steps and 
 asked me if I had seen Ruth and Milly. I pointed
 
 THE TRIAL 127 
 
 to Milly coming up the terrace and then to Ruth 
 standing at the stile with Robert Cole. 
 
 " I was standing there talking with Mrs. Bent 
 when the fatal shot was fired. Even then I didn't 
 think of the gun, or Master Frank himself; for 
 he had only come home that morning, and I had 
 hardly got used to his being around." 
 
 The prosecution brought out the fact that the 
 defendant had ample opportunity to return to the 
 covert without being seen either by Joe or by Mrs. 
 Bent ; and that he did so return was the conten- 
 tion of the prosecution. 
 
 Then followed Mrs. Bent. She was subjected 
 to an unmerciful grilling as to the nature of Mr. 
 Cole's visit to her that unfortunate afternoon. 
 They carried her back over fifty years to the time 
 when Richard Cole was a welcomed guest in her 
 father's home, and compelled her to bare many 
 family secrets relating to the ill-feeling which had 
 existed between herself and the murdered man. 
 In this way the prosecution tried to show that a 
 spirit of revenge for fancied family wrongs had 
 prompted the deed. 
 
 Ruth, Robert Cole, and Milly were the next 
 witnesses. Their testimony merely corroborated 
 that of Mrs. Bent and Joe as to the shooting. 
 Altogether the evidence was most damaging to 
 Frank. 
 
 In spite of the objections of his counsel, Frank 
 insisted on taking the stand in his own defense.
 
 128 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 The silence of death pervaded the court-room when 
 he rose to be sworn. Every neck was craned to 
 see the man who could commit such a cold-blooded 
 deed on such a slight provocation as that set up 
 by the prosecution. 
 
 Frank's story of his movements on the day of 
 the murder, told in a calm, even tone, coincided in 
 every particular with that given by Joe up to 
 the time of his starting off with his fishing tackle. 
 At this point the court adjourned for the day. 
 
 When the court convened at ten o'clock next 
 morning, Frank took up the thread of his de- 
 fense. 
 
 ** What direction did you take after leaving 
 your gun and telling Joe to carry it up to the 
 house? " asked his counsel. 
 
 " I moved south, keeping along the west bank 
 of the brook as far as Sunny Cove." 
 
 " How many miles is Sunny Cove from the point 
 whence you started? " 
 
 " About three miles." 
 
 " How long did it take you to walk the dis- 
 tance? " 
 
 " I haven't the least idea ; perhaps an hour ; 1 
 tramped it somewhat leisurely." 
 
 " Were you alone ? " 
 
 " Except for my dog, yes," 
 
 " Did you meet anyone on the way up? " 
 
 "No, but I saw two men mowing the marsh 
 grass on the lower meadows of Judge Gray's 
 place."
 
 THE TRIAL 129 
 
 " When you reached the Cove, what did you 
 do?" 
 
 " I began to fish." 
 
 " Was there any other person fishing at the 
 pool when you reached it? " 
 
 " Yes, on the opposite bank, about thirty yards 
 above where I stood, a man sat on a log fishing." 
 
 " Did you know the man? " 
 
 " No, he was a stranger to me." 
 
 " Did you speak to him ? " 
 
 " Yes, I shouted to him and told him that if 
 he wanted to catch anything worth while on the 
 east side, there was a better place five yards above. 
 He thanked me and moved up." 
 
 There was a slight commotion in the rear of 
 the court-room caused by a man rising suddenly 
 to his feet, but Frank did not raise his eyes from 
 the face of his questioner. 
 
 " How was this man dressed? " 
 
 " He wore a Norfolk jacket of some kind of 
 gray material, dark pants and top boots, and a 
 light colored checked cap, as near as I can remem- 
 ber." 
 
 "Was he large or small of stature?" 
 
 " He was of medium height, rather stocky." 
 
 " Did he leave before you did? " 
 
 " We left about the same time. He started 
 cross lots toward the railroad station, while I 
 started cross lots in the opposite direction towards 
 home." 
 
 "What time was that?"
 
 130 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " I do not know exactly ; but I should think it 
 would be about five o'clock." 
 
 " How do you fix the time? " 
 
 " It was nearly six o'clock when I reached 
 home." 
 
 " How did you approach the house? " 
 
 " I came up through the orchard and entered 
 by the rear door." 
 
 " When did you hear of the shooting? " 
 
 " When I had been in the house about five min- 
 utes my sister came into the kitchen and told me 
 what had happened and I immediately went out 
 to the veranda, where I was placed under arrest." 
 
 " Would you know the man whom you saw at 
 the Cove if you should see him again ? " 
 
 " I think I should ; especially if he wore the 
 same clothes. I recall he wore a beard, slightly 
 sprinkled with gray." 
 
 During all this time, with the exception of that 
 one ripple of commotion, the silence had been so 
 intense that the fall of a pin might have been 
 heard. At this point there was another wave of 
 disturbance in the rear of the room, which brought 
 the eyes not only of the judge, but also of the 
 whole assemblage, in that direction, and called 
 forth the sheriff's sonorous cry of " Silence in the 
 court ! " 
 
 Frank's eyes followed the bent of his counsel 
 and at once became transfixed on the face of the 
 man who had caused the commotion ; then in calm,
 
 THE TRIAL 
 
 ringing tones, pointing his finger at the man, he 
 cried out: 
 
 " There is the man now ! " 
 
 Amid a scene of but half suppressed excitement, 
 such as the little court-room had never before 
 witnessed, the stranger pushed his way through 
 the crowd and admitted his identity. He was the 
 missing witness for whom Frank's counsel had 
 been searching since Sunday. One can almost 
 imagine the thrill of joy that Frank's friends ex- 
 perienced as he came forward, for his testimony 
 was all that was needed to clinch Frank's alibi. 
 
 Though the man was a stranger to Frank and 
 to most of the people in the court-room, he was 
 no stranger to Judge Gray nor to the presiding 
 judge, both of whom gave him a nod and a smile 
 of welcome as he stepped up to be sworn. In 
 corroborating Frank's testimony, he proved be- 
 yond the shadow of a doubt the innocence of the 
 accused ; for he fixed the time so unerringly as 
 to show that Frank was at the Cove, three miles 
 away, when the fatal shot was fired; consequently, 
 Frank could not have fired it. 
 
 Frank was immediately discharged; the court 
 adjourned; and the case that appeared so clear 
 in the morning suddenly became shrouded in 
 mystery. 
 
 Friends crushed forward in the wildest demon- 
 strations of delight ; and for twenty minutes Frank 
 held a little court of his own. Robert and Bell
 
 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 were among the first to grasp his hands. With 
 quivering lips, Robert expressed his pleasure at 
 the outcome. The most affecting scene, however, 
 occurred when his grandmother and Ruth, after 
 kissing him, each placed an arm about him and led 
 him out of the courthouse between them to the 
 carriage. 
 
 Just as Frank was about to enter the carriage, 
 a cold, clammy hand was thrust into his, and turn- 
 ing, he looked into the pale, drawn face of Dick 
 Stanton. 
 
 *' I want to tell you, Frank, how glad I am that 
 they didn't fix this ugly thing on you. I haven't 
 slept a wink since you were arrested. I shall go 
 home now and go to sleep." 
 
 " It is very kind of you, Dick, to think of me," 
 said Frank, wringing the little hand heartily. 
 " You can go home now and sleep with an easy 
 mind ; but don't forget to come up to see me as 
 soon as you can." Then he sprang into the car- 
 riage with his grandmother and Ruth and was 
 driven off amid a salvo of cheers. 
 
 His father, accompanied by his lawyer, fol- 
 lowed in another carriage, and all reached home 
 about the same time. Though they were all in- 
 wardly happy, a sad solemnity kept their spirits 
 in check, for there was the mystery to be solved. 
 
 While Frank had kept a brave front through 
 it all buoyed in spirit by the consciousness of 
 his innocence yet he had felt the strain se- 
 verely ; and now that it was all over he seemed
 
 THE TRIAL 
 
 in a fair way to collapse. Grandma Bent had 
 been quick to see the waning energy of her boy ; 
 hence her interference in his behalf at the court- 
 house. 
 
 The last four days had been hot, humid, and al- 
 most breathless, typical of the canny old Dog 
 Star's reign. Even under the most favorable con- 
 ditions life becomes a burden during such spells of 
 heat and moisture. But to be confined in a small, 
 poorly ventilated cell at such times is enough to 
 sap the courage and vim out of the strongest ; 
 and Frank Bent just at this time, though tall 
 and well-built, could not be classed among the 
 strongest. 
 
 But here he was back at the farm in Grandma 
 Bent's hands, with everybody ready to pet and 
 pamper him in order to make amends for the cruel 
 injustice of the charge made against him. And 
 here we shall leave him for the present.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 ROBERT TAKES UP HIS BURDEN 
 
 The tragic death of Richard Cole carried 
 gloom and consternation into the whole country 
 no less than into the town of Coleville. None 
 could predict what the effect would be on the busi- 
 ness interests of the community at large. For 
 nearly half a century his name had been synony- 
 mous with success round about the country side. 
 His had been the moving spirit in many enter- 
 prises which had advanced land values and boomed 
 the locality as a place worth living in. Far and 
 wide he had won the reputation of being a man of 
 sterling character and keen business ability ; and 
 he was respected accordingly. And although his 
 whole energy had been directed towards a selfish 
 object in life, the amassing of a colossal for- 
 tune, much good in the main had resulted to the 
 surrounding inhabitants from his efforts. In 
 view of all this, his untimely death could hardly 
 be taken otherwise than as a far-reaching calam- 
 ity. 
 
 All eyes were now turned to the son, young, in- 
 experienced, and lacking in many of the qualities 
 
 which had been the mainspring of his father's suc- 
 134
 
 cess ; and many were the innuent shrugs of shoul- 
 ders when the name of Robert Cole was mentioned 
 in connection with the great interests at stake. 
 Would he rise to the demands of the situation? 
 This was the much mooted question of the hour. 
 
 And this was the question that Robert Cole 
 asked himself when he found time to think of the 
 bigness of the task before him. He felt the 
 weight of the responsibility which Fate had so 
 suddenly, cruelly, and unexpectedly thrust upon 
 him. The golden dream of youth was at an end ; 
 and the stern actualities of life lay before him. 
 All this he realized as he talked over the situation 
 with Mark Gibson the day following the discharge 
 of Frank Bent. 
 
 The great works had been closed since Satur- 
 day, the day of the tragedy ; and the people were 
 beginning to feel restive under their enforced idle- 
 ness. Mark had waited to be sent for by Robert ; 
 but after waiting all morning, and working him- 
 self up into a high state of nervousness, he de- 
 cided to take the initiative. Accordingly, about 
 one o'clock he repaired to the office and sent for 
 Robert. When Robert came, Mark suggested to 
 him the necessity of starting up the machinery 
 as soon as possible, in order to allay the fears of 
 the help. Robert readily acceded to the sugges- 
 tion. The two were closeted for hours discussing 
 plans for the future. Several things were decided, 
 chief among which were that Mark should retain 
 the same confidential position with the son which
 
 136 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 he had held so long with the father, and that the 
 works should be started on the following morn- 
 ing. After settling these points, Robert left the 
 office and went home to dinner. 
 
 From the office window Mark watched him 
 cross the street as he had watched him on the 
 previous Saturday, though with a different light 
 in his eyes. 
 
 " If Fate had not been so relentless ! " he mut- 
 tered. " If she had given him only a year's prep- 
 aration under the eyes of his practical old father, 
 all might go well with him, but Here Mark 
 shrugged his shoulders helplessly, turned away 
 from the window, and soon after left the office 
 and returned home. 
 
 Meanwhile, Robert wended his way homeward 
 in a very serious frame of mind. At heart he 
 was a young man of unbounded sympathy. But 
 unfortunately, only two of all his friends under- 
 stood this underlying trait of his character. 
 These two were Frank and Ruth Bent. Even 
 Grandma Bent, though she had seen much of him 
 in his boyhood, and loved him with her natural 
 affection for the young, had failed to read him 
 aright. 
 
 He had inherited the proud, imperious bearing 
 of his mother, a bearing which repelled rather 
 than invited confidence, and gave a stranger an 
 unfavorable impression of his worth as a man. 
 But it was the bearing of his maternal ancestors ; 
 and the timely discovery of this family trait in
 
 ROBERT TAKES UP HIS BURDEN 137 
 
 her son had given intense satisfaction to Mrs. 
 Cole who, though she loved and respected her hus- 
 band, had often been annoyed by his unconven- 
 tional manners and homely speech, and who had 
 determined, even before Robert was born, that her 
 son should be of a different mold from his father. 
 Therefore, it was only natural that she should 
 rejoice to find in her first-born the refined tastes 
 of her race, and should devote herself assiduously 
 to the training, not only of his innate pride, but 
 also of certain effeminate tendencies which mani- 
 fested themselves at an early age. And so well 
 did she succeed in her designs that Robert was 
 fast growing into a paragon of snobbishness, 
 which might ultimately have been his ruin, had he 
 not been brought into a more wholesome atmos- 
 phere by the advent of Frank and Ruth Bent 
 into the neighborhood just at the right time to 
 counteract some of the pernicious effects of his 
 artificial training. For Frank Bent, big, healthy, 
 romping, and fun-loving Frank, was just the sort 
 of boy to take the girlish crinkles out of the man- 
 nerisms of a lad of Robert's type. 
 
 What is born in the bones can never be beaten 
 out of the flesh is an old proverb which seemed 
 to be verified in Robert's case ; for in spite of 
 the sharp-pointed ridicule of Frank Bent and the 
 covert sneers of the village lads whenever he ap- 
 peared among them, Robert had never quite over- 
 come that indefinable poise of superiority which 
 seemed to be part of his being. The blood of a
 
 patrician was in his veins, and he was what he was, 
 because of that blood. He was punctilious in 
 the niceties of everyday life, fastidious in his 
 tastes; in his dress, fastidious almost to foppish- 
 ness. 
 
 It was these characteristics, eccentricities 
 Mark Gibson called them which gave Mark his 
 greatest concern for the young man's future as 
 the successor of his brusque old father. Mark 
 dreaded the effect on the workmen, especially the 
 younger element, when Robert should mince his 
 way into the puddling-room dressed in his fash- 
 ionable clothes, with his delicate white hands 
 dangling limp below his immaculate linen cuffs. 
 
 When Robert reached home after leaving Mark 
 at the office, he was met on the threshold by his 
 mother. She looked into his face with a wan, 
 anxious smile. 
 
 " Well, what decision have you and Mark come 
 to?" 
 
 " That I shall turn mill-man and start on my 
 duties to-morrow morning." His tone was light, 
 but decisive. 
 
 " Surely not, Robert ! " she exclaimed with a 
 look of disappointment on her face. " Your 
 father would never think of letting you demean 
 yourself. He saw too much of the works him- 
 self to allow you to make a drudge of yourself ! " 
 
 " There is nothing else to be done, Mother," 
 he said kindly, for he saw the horror settling on 
 her face and knew how keenly she felt about the
 
 ROBERT TAKES UP HIS BURDEN 139 
 
 matter. " Mark tells me there are several large 
 orders on hand which must be filled. Besides, 
 there are nearly five hundred souls depending on 
 the running of the works for their daily bread. 
 We must think of others as well as ourselves " ; 
 and placing his arm around her waist, he led her 
 gently into the great wide hall with its lavish dis- 
 play of wealth and luxury. Here he left her and 
 went to his room to prepare for dinner. 
 
 It was after five o'clock before he found him- 
 self free to think of himself. It seemed to him 
 that he had lived ages since Saturday. He had 
 not seen Ruth to speak to her since the accusation 
 of Frank. He had seen her on the witness stand 
 the day of the hearing and had noted the pallor 
 of her face and the nervous twitch of her hands ; 
 and he had longed to take her in his arms to pro- 
 tect her from the gaze of the hundreds of curious 
 eyes that followed her every movement. He had 
 not had a moment to call his own since the 
 tragedy until now. He felt the pressure on heart 
 and brain, for he had not been used to think or to 
 act for others. It was all so new to him ; and he 
 had not yet learned the knack or the need of re- 
 serving his nervous forces. But now that he 
 could think, he saw that he would break under the 
 strain if he did not loosen the tension. Accord- 
 ingly, he ordered his horse, and about six o'clock 
 rode off into the mellowing shadows of the park. 
 
 The burden seemed to lift from his heart and 
 the cloud to dissolve from his brain as Hector
 
 140 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 cantered over the smooth country roads. He in- 
 haled deep breaths of the evening air, highly per- 
 fumed with the odors of sweet fern and pine. He 
 felt new life in his veins, a sort of wild exhilara- 
 tion. He was free ! free at last ! master of him- 
 self and his own destiny ! His blood thrilled with 
 a delicious fever, and his pulse quickened as his 
 horse increased in speed. 
 
 He shuddered, however, when he crossed the 
 bridge and passed the spot where his father had 
 met his death. Every incident of the eventful 
 day trooped with lightning-like rapidity through 
 his mind and oppressed him strangely. He tried 
 to shake off the feeling of oppression but could 
 not; and he was still laboring under its influence 
 when he drew rein at the steps of Grandma Bent's. 
 
 Mrs. Bent was sitting on the veranda when he 
 rode up the hill. A shadow settled on her face 
 as she watched him draw nearer. Her heart had 
 almost ceased to beat as she saw him round the 
 jutting woodland and turn in at the gate. There 
 flitted through her mind all the horrors of the 
 past week. She rose to meet him as he dis- 
 mounted; and he, springing up the steps, caught 
 her outstretched hands and kissed her tenderly 
 on the cheek as was his wont in his boyhood days. 
 Then he led her back to her seat, and when she 
 had sunk into it, he threw himself on a settle near 
 by and glanced casually towards the door, as if 
 half expecting to see someone else. She under- 
 stood the questioning look in his eyes.
 
 " You are too late ; neither Frank nor Ruth is 
 at home. They have gone," she informed him, 
 quietly. 
 
 " Gone ! " he repeated, looking at her with wide, 
 questioning eyes. 
 
 " Yes," and her lips trembled as she uttered 
 the monosyllable. 
 
 " When did they go ? " There was intense dis- 
 appointment in his voice. 
 
 " This morning." 
 
 " Where have they gone ? " 
 
 " To the mountains for a short rest and change 
 of scene." 
 
 " When do you expect their return ? " 
 
 " There is nothing definite about their return," 
 she said sadly ; " they may be gone a month or a 
 year." She watched him keenly to note the ef- 
 fect of her information. " Their father thought 
 it best for both that they should go, and insisted 
 on their going with him." 
 
 " Did they leave any message for me? " he 
 asked eagerly. 
 
 " None ! " The word shot out with a sharp- 
 ness that fairly cut. 
 
 A spasm of pain crossed his face, and he seemed 
 suddenly to lose heart. An embarrassing silence 
 fell between them, for he seemed at a loss how 
 to proceed under that cold, steely stare of her 
 eyes. It was evident to him that his old-time 
 friends were to fail him at the point where he 
 needed their counsel most.
 
 142 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 Noting the pain in his eyes, she softened a 
 little and sought to change the subject by ask- 
 ing, " What do you purpose doing at the fac- 
 tory?" 
 
 " The works are to start up to-morrow morn- 
 ing," he answered, glad to break the awkward 
 silence. " I mean to try my hand at running a 
 town ; and I came up to get some practical points 
 from Frank. You can't understand, Grandma, 
 how disappointed I am not to see him." 
 
 " I am glad you see your duty to the town," 
 she said with a nod of approval, ignoring his ref- 
 erence to Frank. " You have a good adviser in 
 Mark ; and you will succeed, if you only begin 
 right. I must warn you, however, in regard to 
 your dress. Don't, for goodness sake, don't go 
 into the works in a dress suit ! " 
 
 His face flushed. He bit his lips, and again 
 there was silence. Mrs. Bent saw that the shaft 
 had sunk to its hilt; but she did not relent, nor 
 yet attempt to palliate the causticity of her 
 words. Presently he asked, 
 
 " Will you give me Ruth's address ? " 
 
 " No ! " She snapped the word out with a 
 vigor and crispness she seldom used in her lan- 
 guage. 
 
 He looked at her in surprise. 
 
 "Why?" he asked when he found his voice 
 again. 
 
 " Well, to be perfectly frank with you, Rob- 
 ert, I am opposed to your paying any attention
 
 ROBERT TAKES UP HIS BURDEN 143 
 
 whatsoever to Ruth while your family feel as they 
 do towards her ; and somehow, I feel that they are 
 in the right in this affair. You know I have 
 never interfered in Ruth's affairs before; but now 
 that your father is gone, and a shadow hangs 
 over my house in regard to his death, it becomes 
 my duty to speak. The mystery of your father's 
 death must be cleared, and Frank's innocence es- 
 tablished in the minds of the still skeptical be- 
 yond the shade of a doubt before I can receive 
 any member of your family in my home. Ruth 
 is very dear to me, and I have only her happiness 
 at heart in taking this step. Besides, your name 
 has been coupled with Miss Crosby's " 
 
 " Oh, pshaw ! Grandma Bent, you surely do 
 not take any stock in that gossip ! " he broke in 
 impatiently, flecking the dust off his boots with 
 his riding-whip. 
 
 " Whether I do or not is immaterial. The fact 
 remains that your attentions to her during the 
 last two years have been such that it would seem 
 dishonorable to break off now. Furthermore, it 
 strikes me as lacking in respect to your father's 
 memory for you to seek to revive the old friend- 
 ship between you and Ruth so soon after his 
 death. Such a course would be sure to get awag- 
 ging the busy tongues of the whole country. We 
 have had enough of it already ; and I must beg 
 of you to cease all attention to Ruth and save 
 me and mine further annoyance." 
 
 He rose to his feet and took up his hat. He
 
 144 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 was deathly pale ; but he stood proudly erect, 
 calm and self-controlled, as he answered in a 
 strangely subdued voice, 
 
 " If this is your conviction in the matter, Mrs. 
 Bent, further argument would be useless. I see 
 nothing for me to do but to bow to your will. 
 I shall respect your wishes and abide by your 
 decision. Good evening ! " 
 
 He strode down the steps, flung himself into his 
 saddle, and was off before she could frame an 
 answer. Hector seemed to understand the out- 
 raged spirit of his master, for he fairly flew down 
 the driveway, past the spot whence the fatal shot 
 had sped on its mission of death, and on into the 
 open country road, while Grandma Bent sat with 
 bated breath, her hands tightly clasped in her lap, 
 gazing after him through a mist of tears. When 
 he had passed beyond her sight, she rose, and look- 
 ing off to the melting lights in the west, she said 
 aloud, 
 
 " Surely, the sins of the fathers are visited upon 
 the children 1" 
 
 Robert Cole never could tell how many miles 
 he rode that evening, nor exactly where he went. 
 It was nearly nine o'clock when he threw himself 
 from the saddle at the stable door and handed 
 over a very much jaded horse to the hostler, who 
 looked at the foam-flecked animal in amazement. 
 Nothing like it had ever come into that stable 
 before. The hostler glanced at the white face of 
 Robert and wondered if he had seen a ghost ; but
 
 ROBERT TAKES UP HIS BURDEN 145 
 
 he made no comment. Indeed there was no time 
 to do so, for Robert turned on his heel the instant 
 the hostler took the reins, and strode silently 
 into the house. 
 
 Next morning Robert, punctual to the second, 
 was at the office at the time suggested by Mark 
 on the previous day. The gates had been thrown 
 open some twenty minutes earlier, and the work- 
 men were filing through in large numbers. As 
 he approached, they tipped their hats respectfully 
 and greeted him with a hearty " Good morning, 
 Mr. Cole," just as they had been in the habit of 
 greeting his father for years past. He was con- 
 scious, too, of the many side glances cast at him 
 as he passed on and into the office. 
 
 Mark was already at his desk. He looked up 
 and returned Robert's " Good morning." Then 
 he straightened up and allowed his eyes to rest 
 on Robert's face for an instant ere they swept 
 over the young man, taking in every detail of his 
 attire. A puzzled and pleased expression settled 
 on his face as he noted that Robert had discarded 
 his ultra fashionable clothes and had donned a 
 smart business suit of a dark-gray material, with 
 a negligee shirt and a somber-colored tie. Some- 
 how, a wonderful change had taken place in the 
 young man since Mark had parted with him only 
 yesterday afternoon. It was not altogether in 
 his dress ; it was in his voice, his face and his bear- 
 ing. Mark could not define just wherein the 
 change lay. Only it was there. He was no
 
 146 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 longer the Robert of yesterday. His was a new 
 personality ; or, rather, an old one, resuscitated. 
 It took Mark just five minutes to detect the subtle 
 change which had taken place over night. 
 
 " It's in him ; like father, like son ! " Mark 
 chuckled to himself, as he joined Robert at the 
 side door to show him over the plant and introduce 
 him to the various bosses, " and I'll make a man 
 of him in spite of the women folks ! "
 
 CHAPTER X 
 DICK GETS A CHANCE 
 
 The days crept on and rolled into weeks until 
 a month had passed since the shooting of Rich- 
 ard Cole; and still the affair was shrouded in 
 as deep and impenetrable a mystery as on the day 
 it occurred. Keen-scented detectives had worked 
 diligently in tracing to its source every rumor, no 
 matter how wild it appeared. Clues and shadows 
 of clues were followed up and exploded ; till at 
 last, the detectives acknowledged themselves baffled 
 and balked at every point. 
 
 In this, as in every other matter of importance 
 to the family, Mark Gibson was the consulting 
 head. The detectives had been engaged by him, 
 had received their instructions from him, and had 
 reported to him the results of every wild goose 
 chase on which they had ventured. Though noth- 
 ing had developed to throw a ray of light into 
 the dark secret of the wood, the detectives had 
 skeletonized the private character of Richard 
 Cole and become conversant with a few ugly facts 
 of the dead man's past, much to the chagrin of 
 Mark Gibson, who in addition to his other offices, 
 held the position of curator of his employer's 
 
 secrets. 
 
 147
 
 148 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 It was Saturday afternoon, the fourth since 
 the murder. Mark Gibson sat alone in the office, 
 pivoted on his high stool and busy as usual, when 
 the street door opened softly and Mr. Lunt, the 
 chief detective, entered. Mark greeted him with 
 a nod, and sliding down from his elevation, came 
 over to the railing. 
 
 " Well, and what is there new in the situation? " 
 he asked almost under his breath, as if he feared 
 the walls had ears. 
 
 " I am sorry to say there is nothing new," 
 he answered with a discouraging shake of his 
 head. " Except, perhaps," he added after a mo- 
 ment's pause, " that the conviction is growing on 
 me that the Stanton family know more about this 
 affair than they are willing to admit, especially 
 that little hunchback devil." 
 
 Mark started, but he quickly pooh-poohed the 
 idea. Then he hastened to ask, 
 
 " You don't think he " 
 
 " I really don't know what to think about him. 
 He is certainly one of the queerest tickets I have 
 ever handled. I have quizzed him in a roundabout 
 way, and find that he is totally ignorant of his 
 parentage. He calls old man Stanton ' Father,' 
 and old mother Stanton, who died the day Mr. 
 Cole was buried, * Mother,' And then it is sister 
 Nell here and sister Nell there. He's a shrewd 
 little customer, nevertheless. What puzzles me 
 most is the way he rants whenever Mr. Cole's name 
 is mentioned. He seems to have engendered an
 
 DICK GETS A CHANCE 149 
 
 uncontrollable antipathy to the very name of 
 Richard Cole; and yet you can't get a word out 
 of him on the subject of the murder. He shuts 
 up like a clam when the murder is broached even 
 in the most matter-of-fact way. This is why my 
 suspicions will not down. Were it not for what 
 you have told me in connection with meeting him 
 on the bridge so soon after the shooting, I would 
 chance taking him in for examination. But this, 
 of course, is for you to decide, so far as I am 
 concerned." 
 
 " It would be a waste of time, I assure you," 
 Mark hastened to say with as much confidence 
 as he could command. While Mark did his best 
 to appear at ease, he was evidently very much dis- 
 concerted by what he had just heard. After a 
 moment's silence, he went on, " And even if you 
 did take him, and could prove your case, which I 
 very much doubt, what will the gain be? Far 
 better the mystery, for all concerned, than the ex- 
 posures which must inevitably follow. At least 
 so long as no one is injured by holding back," 
 he hastened to add. 
 
 " But how can we say that no one is being in- 
 jured by our holding back? How about Frank 
 Bent? " asked Mr. Lunt in a serious tone. 
 
 " The law has vindicated him ; he has nothing to 
 complain of," replied Mark lightly. 
 
 " I beg to differ with you on that point, Mr. 
 Gibson," objected Mr. Lunt in deprecating tones. 
 " Frank Bent has much to complain of, and will
 
 have till the murderer is found. His arrest has 
 cast a cloud over his future which nothing short 
 of the apprehension of the actual slayer can lift. 
 Then there are the interests of the community to 
 think of. Every day the murderer is at large, 
 a feeling of insecurity is rife among the people. 
 And besides this, there is a growing contempt for 
 us fellows and for the law itself." 
 
 *' Well, well, we shall not discuss that just 
 now," said Mark somewhat testily, with a com- 
 manding wave of his hand. " You are probably 
 right ; but I fear you misapprehend my meaning. 
 It is not my intention to stand in the way of the 
 law. Far from it ! Only there has been one 
 false arrest, and I do not want to see another. 
 Let there be no more mistakes ! Until you are 
 absolutely sure of your ground, keep your hands 
 off Dick Stanton. If your trail ends there, why, 
 there let it end for the present." Then suddenly 
 changing his tone, he asked, " Have you confided 
 your suspicions to anyone else? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Have any of the other detectives any such 
 suspicions? " 
 
 " I think not. I am the only one who has had 
 any dealings with Dick." 
 
 " Good ! Now keep your own counsel. So far, 
 your suspicion rests on the ground of Dick's un- 
 accountable dislike for Mr. Cole. I think this 
 might be accounted for in a dozen different ways. 
 For instance, he might attribute the death of Mrs.
 
 DICK GETS A CHANCE 151 
 
 Stanton directly to the name of Mr. Cole. Dick 
 was very fond of the old woman. Her death has 
 affected him deeply. He has brooded over it and 
 feels very bitter against the world at large. I 
 have talked with him and know how he takes it. 
 Personally, I think your suspicions are all wrong. 
 Nell, of course, was forty miles away. As for 
 Jack, we know where he was. As I said before, 
 if your trail ends here, I see nothing but to let 
 things rest for a while. You might go away for 
 a few weeks and when things have quieted down 
 a bit, come back and go over the ground again." 
 
 To this proposition Mr. Lunt gave a reluctant 
 consent ; and after making arrangements for his 
 return whenever Mark should deem it advisable, 
 he left the office, and late that afternoon took his 
 departure from Coleville in a rather disconcerted 
 mood. 
 
 Mark had hardly settled himself on his high 
 seat again after bowing Mr. Lunt from the office 
 when the door opened and Robert entered. Mark 
 looked up with a startled air, but quickly recovered 
 himself and said casually, 
 
 " I thought you had gone home an hour ago." 
 Then his eyes dropped to his ledger as if that 
 ended his interest in the young man's coming back 
 to the office. 
 
 " I started for home," he said with a weary 
 smile, throwing himself into a chair, " but got held 
 up on the way by old man Stanton. He had 
 rather a pitiful story to tell. He has been unable
 
 152 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 to work for a long time; his wife has recently 
 died; and his daughter Nell, who has been the 
 main support of the family, has been obliged to 
 give up her position and come home to keep house 
 for him and the boy, as he calls Dick. He begged 
 me to find something for Dick to do. I told him 
 I would talk the matter over with you and I 
 thought there was no doubt that you would be 
 able to place the lad at some light work that 
 would be suitable for him. So I came back to 
 speak to you about the matter before I forgot 
 it." 
 
 At the first mention of Mr. Stanton's name, 
 the pen had slipped from Mark's nerveless fingers 
 and rolled to the floor with a shuffling noise. 
 Mark sagged heavily forward on the desk and sat 
 rigid, gaping with wild eyes and dropped jaw 
 through the narrow spacings of the desk-rails at 
 Robert. 
 
 " But there are doubts, and grave doubts too, 
 about our finding anything suitable for him to 
 do," dissented Mark in a dry unnatural voice, 
 pulling himself together and sliding down from 
 his seat to pick up his pen. 
 
 " Why so ? " asked Robert quietly. " Aside 
 from his deformity he appears rugged enough. 
 Surely there is something about the works which 
 he might do without over-taxing his strength. 
 The old man is extremely anxious to find some 
 sort of work for him ; something that will occupy 
 his time and keep him out of his uncle's saloon,
 
 DICK GETS A CHANCE 153 
 
 which he has begun to frequent more than is good 
 for him since his mother's death. And here you 
 see, Mark, is another argument in favor of my 
 closing up that saloon." 
 
 " Better let the saloon and the whole Stanton 
 tribe alone ! " snapped Mark impatiently. Then 
 recovering himself, he assumed a more temporizing 
 tone and manner; for it suddenly occurred to him 
 that he might gain more by conceding a measure 
 than by exhibiting a too virulent antagonism. 
 " After all, I don't know but what something might 
 be found. At any rate, I'll speak to Hillis and 
 see what can be done for him." 
 
 " I have it, Mark," laughed Robert as an idea 
 seemed to strike him pleasantly. " I'll take him 
 into the office. I understand he has a fair educa- 
 tion. Perhaps I can utilize him as a sort of 
 private secretary, errand boy, and jack of all 
 tricks." 
 
 Mark's jaws dropped; the sallow on his face 
 deepened; and for a moment he could not speak. 
 He studied Robert's laughing face for a brief 
 period, then regaining his composure, asked, 
 
 "Is this a joke?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " You really mean it ? " Incredulity was writ- 
 ten all over Mark's face. 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " Then I must give you notice that the mo- 
 ment Dick Stanton comes into this office in any 
 capacity whatsoever, I go out ! "
 
 154. THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 Robert looked at him in undisguised amaze- 
 ment, and seeing those obstinately closed lips, 
 knew it would be easier to pierce a block of ada- 
 mant with a pin than to budge Mark from his ex- 
 pressed purpose. Still, he wanted to learn 
 Mark's reasons. 
 
 " Why do you feel so strongly opposed to the 
 idea of giving the poor fellow a chance? It is 
 not like you to show such animus in small mat- 
 ters." 
 
 " Small matters ! " grunted Mark. " If you 
 knew the Stantons as I do, you would as soon 
 take an adder in and give it the freedom of your 
 office as to think of bringing in that lazy loon. 
 They're a bad lot to meddle with, and you'd bet- 
 ter let them severely alone." 
 
 " Come, Mark, that's uncharitable ! Here is a 
 decrepit old man, a sick daughter, and a deformed 
 son, with no settled income, and winter coming 
 on. We cannot shut our eyes to actual condi- 
 tions and then, should anything happen, ask 
 piously, * Am I my brother's keeper? ' 
 
 " Did I understand you to say a sick daugh- 
 ter? " asked Mark in a somewhat mollified tone. 
 
 " So I understand. She was completely broken 
 up over her mother's death and had quite a sick 
 spell, and is barely able to get about the house 
 now." 
 
 A change came over Mark's face; a shade of 
 pity gleamed for an instant in his eyes ; yet he 
 was not quite ready to capitulate,
 
 DICK GETS A CHANCE 155 
 
 " I am sorry that Nell is sick. I can see where 
 they are going to find it hard to get along under 
 present conditions. For all that, I don't see how 
 it concerns us. This is no charitable institu- 
 tion." 
 
 " No, thank God, it is not ! " chimed in Robert 
 with considerable heat. " If I thought it were, 
 I would never open the gates again ! It's a work- 
 shop ; and if any man seeks work in it, he has 
 a right to be considered individually. What his 
 family has or has not done has nothing to do 
 with the question of his right to earn his own 
 living. Because I mean to handle Jack Stanton 
 without gloves is no reason why I should not give 
 Dick a chance to show what is in him." He rose, 
 saying as he moved towards the door, " I shall 
 leave the matter with you now to arrange with 
 Hillis for Dick to start Monday morning. Tell 
 him to find Dick something to do about the yard 
 light work that will keep him in the open air 
 as much as possible running errands, or some- 
 thing of that sort. Put the poor unfortunate 
 devil's name on the pay roll. That will be bet- 
 ter than having Mother or Bell doling out charity 
 to the family. If you want to boost a man's self- 
 respect, give him work, not charity." He opened 
 the door and passed out. 
 
 Mark settled his elbows on his desk as the door 
 closed after Robert ; and dropping his head on his 
 open palms, he sat for some time buried in deep 
 thought. Fully ten minutes flew by. Then he
 
 156 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 raised his head, threw it back with a dejected toss 
 and muttered aloud: 
 
 " The mills of the gods grind slowly ; but they 
 grind exceedingly sure ! " Half an hour later he 
 was on his way home. 
 
 It was nine o'clock that night when Mark Gib- 
 son dodged into one of the numerous by-lanes 
 leading off from the main road near the outskirts 
 of the village and paused before the door of a 
 dilapidated looking story-and-a-half cottage. It 
 stood under, or rather it leaned against, the trunk 
 of an old apple-tree of immense girth, whose 
 gnarled limbs stretched over the house in strangely 
 menacing gestures. Glancing cautiously about 
 and assuring himself that no one was in sight, he 
 ventured a timid little rap on the door. Almost 
 instantly the door was opened about an inch, and 
 the voice of Nell Stanton asked: 
 
 " Who is there? " while Nell herself peered 
 through the crack into the darkness over Mark's 
 head. 
 
 " It is I, Nell," answered Mark, stepping up on 
 the broad stone flag which served as a step. 
 
 The door opened wide enough to admit him, 
 and Nell said, 
 
 " Come in." 
 
 He obeyed the summons and as the door closed 
 behind him he heard the key turn in the lock. 
 
 " Why this precaution ? " he asked, glancing 
 nervously about the room. In that one quick 
 survey he took in every detail of his surroundings.
 
 DICK GETS A CHANCE 157 
 
 The room was large and even under the dim light 
 of the one small oil-lamp, he saw it was bare, al- 
 most to emptiness. A small cracked cook-stove 
 trying to balance itself on three legs, thrust as 
 it was well back into the gaping mouth of the 
 large open chimney, made a sorry spectacle to 
 begin with. On one side of the room stood an 
 old deal table on which were set out a few broken 
 dishes. And high on the wall above the table 
 hung a begrimed chromo, representing a table 
 laden with luscious fruits of all climes in tempt- 
 ing array. A rush-bottom rocker and two wooden 
 chairs completed the furnishings of the room. 
 
 Nell pushed one of the chairs towards Mark 
 as she answered his question : 
 
 " Simply a precaution against the pranks of the 
 wind ; so don't be alarmed." 
 
 " Are you alone ? " he asked, trying to pierce 
 the darkness beyond the chamber door, which 
 stood partly open. 
 
 " I am," she answered, following his glance with 
 a half scornful light in her black eyes. " You 
 are not afraid, are you? " 
 
 " No, no ! " he said hastily, bringing his eyes 
 to bear on her face with a scrutinizing stare. 
 " You have been sick ? " he half questioned, as he 
 studied the pale, pinched features of the woman 
 before him. 
 
 " Yes ; this whole business has kind a- worn on 
 me," she said wearily. " I was not well to begin 
 with ; I am worse now. Where it will end, I don't
 
 158 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 know. I sent for you to come here, because I 
 had not heard from you since that night of the 
 funeral, and because I knew we should be free from 
 intrusion, and there were some things I wanted 
 to say to you." 
 
 ** It was my intention to see you before this," 
 half apologized Mark with the air of a penitent. 
 
 " Yes," she remarked bitterly. " The streets of 
 hell are paved with good intentions." 
 
 " So I have heard," he admitted. " Well, now 
 that I am here, what's in the wind? " 
 
 " Why simply this : The rumor is that Robert 
 Cole intends to close up my Uncle Jack's place, 
 and I want you to head it off." She riveted a pair 
 of coal-black eyes upon him as she spoke. 
 
 His face darkened and he asked almost impa- 
 tiently, 
 
 " But supposing I can't? " 
 
 " In that case, Uncle Jack may find a way to 
 prick the pride of those who set such high store 
 on points of birth and blood." A fit of coughing 
 interrupted her for a moment. When she re- 
 covered she went on in a cold, calculating voice. 
 " You know my father has been unable to work 
 for a long time. My uncle Jack has been 
 a mighty good friend to us all; and I don't pur- 
 pose to sit calmly down and see him ruined by be- 
 ing ousted from his living." 
 
 " For heaven's sake, Nell, don't be rash ! " im- 
 portuned Mark with intense fervor. " If you will
 
 DICK GETS A CHANCE 159 
 
 only have patience, everything will be worked out 
 in a logical way." 
 
 " Logical fiddle-sticks ! " she exclaimed impa- 
 tiently. " I didn't send for you to talk logic to 
 me. Ordinary common sense talk will lead us to 
 the point quicker and serve my purpose better." 
 
 " Nell Stanton, I am harassed almost to dis- 
 traction ! " returned Mark in a petulant tone. 
 " Robert Cole is the very antithesis of his father. 
 He has high ideals. He has his plans for Cole- 
 ville, and in his own good time will put them 
 through. He means to do the right thing by 
 everybody. Only this afternoon he gave orders 
 to find some light work for Dick around the shops, 
 so that his name could be placed on the pay roll. 
 Now what more can you want for the present? " 
 He looked at her appealingly, as if he expected her 
 to acquiesce in his opinion that all which could 
 reasonably be asked had been done. 
 
 " What more can I want, indeed ! " she asked 
 sneeringly. " What more should I want than to 
 see that poor crippled body crippled through 
 the violent temper of the one who should have 
 been his natural protector what more should 
 I ask, I repeat, than to see that poor crippled 
 body crawling out of bed on a cold winter's morn- 
 ing and trudging off to a long day of toil amid 
 the heat and dust of those hellish furnaces?" 
 
 There was a measure of bitterness in her voice, 
 the bitterness of a hapless mother powerless in
 
 160 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 the hands of Fate to protect her offspring from 
 some hidden danger which she knew beset his path. 
 She had risen, and now stood looking down at him 
 with a look of agony in her dark eyes. 
 
 As Mark looked into that face, now shorn of 
 the beauty which had once attracted the eye of 
 the unscrupulous, though not entirely devoid of 
 certain charms, he could not help the feeling of 
 compunction which suddenly rose in his heart. 
 He had known her since childhood, and he could 
 not escape the thought that he might have saved 
 her in the beginning had he dared to speak the 
 word. He suddenly realized his own weakness 
 at a time when he should have been strong. And 
 now he felt helpless before that accusing voice. 
 
 " But your father thinks it is best, Nell," he 
 ventured to say with more kindness than he had 
 yet used to her. " It was he who spoke to Robert 
 about Dick. Your father thinks Dick is hang- 
 ing round Jack's place more than is good for him 
 since your mother died." 
 
 She eyed him almost incredulously, as if his 
 sudden display of kindness was hardly to be taken 
 seriously ; and for a moment she maintained her 
 silence. At last she spoke. There was a tremor 
 of sadness in her voice. 
 
 " It is true that Dick has recently taken to 
 drink. I can't understand him any more. Per- 
 haps Father is right in getting him something to 
 do ; but it seems mighty hard to me. When I 
 see him now and think of what he might have been
 
 DICK GETS A CHANCE 161 
 
 I can hardly bear the strain. It sets me wild at 
 times ! " A spot of burning red leapt into her 
 hollow cheeks; her eyes blazed with an unnatural 
 light as, with clenched hands and set teeth, she 
 took several turns across the room. 
 
 Mark rose to go and stood with his hat in his 
 hand, silently watching her and waiting for her 
 to grow calmer. 
 
 " Whether you know it or not, Nell," he said 
 with increasing tenderness, " I have always been 
 your friend. When he was inclined to be hard 
 on you, I stood in the breach. I always insisted 
 on his giving you a square deal, so far as lay in 
 his power. I have borne the brunt of the fires 
 for twenty-three years. I am ready to stand by 
 you still, if you are willing to be guided by me. 
 Let me impress this on you: that you have more 
 to lose than to gain from any unnecessary ex- 
 posures. Will you accept my friendship and be 
 guided by my advice?" 
 
 After a moment's hesitation, during which time 
 she studied his face intently, she placed her hot 
 hand in his and said between little hysterical 
 sobs: 
 
 " Yes, I will ; for God knows I need a friend 
 somewhere ! " 
 
 He pressed her hand gently, and then taking 
 a small roll of bills from his pocket, he slipped it 
 into her palm and closed her fingers over it, say- 
 ing: 
 
 *' There, there, just wipe your eyes and let us
 
 162 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 get down to business. You must let matters go 
 on as they are going for the present. I shall see 
 that Dick is not killed with hard work. As for 
 your Uncle Jack, if Robert insists on his vacating 
 the premises, you must advise him to go quietly. 
 There's the old tavern on the road below; Jack 
 might rent that and still retain his trade. You 
 can manage that part of the game if you will and 
 avoid a scandal. Robert is planning great things. 
 Every old ramshackle in the village is either to 
 be torn down and replaced with a new building, 
 or remodeled and placed in a condition for folks 
 to live in. I must go now; think over what I have 
 said, and be guided accordingly. Good night." 
 
 He opened the door quietly and passed out, 
 leaving Nell standing in the middle of the floor 
 somewhat bewildered by the change in the man 
 she had heretofore most dreaded and distrusted. 
 Should she trust him now? This question was 
 still unanswered when Dick came staggering home 
 from his Uncle Jack's in a maudlin state that bor- 
 dered on imbecility. She heard his shambling 
 steps as he mounted the flag at the threshold, 
 and hastened to open the door ; but ere she reached 
 it, it flew open, forced by the weight of Dick's 
 clumsy body being placed against it, and Dick 
 stumbled headlong in across the floor. The sight 
 was too much for Nell in her sick and nervous 
 state, and she turned away with a gesture of 
 despair, and sinking on a chair near the table, 
 she buried her face in her hands and sobbed aloud.
 
 DICK GETS A CHANCE 163 
 
 Monday morning Dick Stanton reported to 
 Charles Hillis, the superintendent of the yard, as 
 had been previously arranged that he should, and 
 was given the position of general utility man 
 about the yard. Just what that meant, no one 
 seemed to have any definite idea ; but Dick was 
 satisfied to accept it at its face value. It sounded 
 big, and that suited him to a T; for despite his 
 crooked shape, he had a proud spirit and set much 
 store on his own importance. 
 
 His appearance caused covert glances to pass 
 between the men ; and many were the questioning 
 eyes that followed the misshapen little figure as 
 it hung in the shadow of Charles Hillis all that 
 day and for many days after. But the novelty 
 wore off in time and the men came to look at his 
 presence among them as a natural sequence of 
 passing events ; until finally they admitted him 
 to their circles and made him feel as one of them- 
 selves. . 
 
 When Robert reached home after leaving Mark 
 in the office that afternoon, he found a visitor 
 awaiting his coming, a visitor in the person of a 
 Dr. St. John, a lifelong friend of his mother's 
 family. The doctor had only recently returned 
 from a long sojourn abroad; and having learned 
 of the sad death of Mr. Cole, he could not content 
 himself until he had paid his respects in person 
 to the bereaved family. So he had taken the 
 present moment to run down to Coleville for that 
 purpose. He had only intended to make a brief
 
 164 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 call, but he stayed for lunch, and then was in- 
 duced to remain over the Sabbath. 
 
 He was a charming old gentleman of about sev- 
 enty, brimfull of sights and scenes of foreign 
 travel, which he retailed in a most fascinating man- 
 ner. Though Mrs. Cole had not seen him since 
 she was a mere slip of a girl, she felt as much at 
 home in his presence as if he had been a daily 
 caller for years. She recognized in him the man 
 of learning and of wide worldly experience ; and 
 it occurred to her that if she could only induce 
 him to remain as her guest for a few weeks, he 
 might be of valuable assistance to her in her 
 management of Robert, whom she was beginning 
 to find rather headstrong. Accordingly she took 
 him into her confidence and told him of Robert's 
 wild schemes for the turning of the village topsy- 
 turvy ; and begged him to remain as her guest for 
 a few weeks, that he might see for himself how im- 
 practical Robert's plans were, and to persuade 
 him to abandon them. 
 
 Knowing nothing of his mother's designs, Rob- 
 ert himself pressed the doctor to spend a few 
 weeks with the family. The invitation was gladly 
 accepted, for the doctor had found that after 
 nearly forty years' continuous residence in foreign 
 lands, he was practically a stranger among 
 strangers in his own land. To be the guest of 
 the family of an old friend was indeed a pleasure 
 not to be lightly passed over. Thus it was that 
 Dr. St. John gathered up the broken threads of 
 his life in Coleville.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 DR. ST. JOHN DECIDES TO STAY 
 
 " It's a capital idea, Robert, a capital idea ! " 
 There was just the faintest touch of sarcasm in 
 the voice of the venerable old doctor ; and he 
 pulled vigorously at his long, gray mustache to 
 hide the smile that played about his delicately 
 molded lips. 
 
 ** Yes, Doctor, I think it is a capital idea," an- 
 swered Robert Cole, straightening himself up and 
 pushing his hat back from his broad, white fore- 
 head with a boyish gesture of pride. At the same 
 time his clear, dark eyes took a sweeping glance 
 over the little gray hamlet nestling amid the ver- 
 dure below as it lay in a flood of morning sun- 
 shine at his feet, and he smiled complacently. 
 
 " Hem ! well, yes," remarked the doctor cau- 
 tiously ; " that is, if you can put it into prac- 
 tice." 
 
 " Put it into practice ! " exclaimed Robert, 
 turning a pair of quizzical eyes full on the speak- 
 er's face as though doubting his hearing. " Why, 
 of course I can put it into practice! Don't I 
 own the place ? " 
 
 " Yes," came laconically from under the twitch- 
 ing mustache. 
 
 165
 
 166 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " Then what's to hinder me ? " he asked with a 
 hauteur quite in keeping with his poise. " Can't 
 I make my own bargains with the people whom I 
 hire? " 
 
 " Perhaps," said the doctor skeptically. 
 
 " Perhaps ? " repeated the young man ; and the 
 finely chiseled chin tilted a trifle higher in the 
 air. 
 
 It was not that Robert Cole meant to appear 
 haughty or imperious in the eyes of his guest, 
 the renowned Dr. St. John. Far from it! Had 
 he not been unburdening his soul to the doctor 
 for the last hour laying bare all his ambitions 
 and plans for the upbuilding of Coleville and for 
 the betterment of its people with a boyish candor 
 that quite surprised himself? 
 
 " Yes, perhaps ! " reiterated the doctor with a 
 little stronger emphasis. Not a muscle of his face 
 changed, though he knew how his words hurt. 
 For a moment his conscience pricked him and he 
 allowed his eyes to wander off in a sweeping glance 
 over the valley. 
 
 The two men stood on an eminence, being, in 
 fact, one of the lesser spurs of the Berkshire hills 
 in the western part of Massachusetts, from which 
 a magnificent view was unfolded to the eye 
 presenting a wide expanse of farm lands encircled 
 by broken ridges of towering peaks. The low- 
 lands undulating in rugged waves, alternated in 
 patches of dense woods, grassy meadows, and fields 
 of waving grains ; while glimpses of sparkling
 
 ST. JOHN DECIDES TO STAY 167 
 
 streams could be caught occasionally winding 
 among an endless variety of green, threading in 
 and out like a strand of burnished silver. The 
 neat farmhouses dotting the landscape here and 
 there lent tone to the colors, while the farmers 
 with their teams afield, and the drowsy cattle 
 grazing in the pastures, added a touch of life 
 to the scene. 
 
 September was well on the wane. Up on the 
 highlands the foliage had begun to change. 
 Great plashes of reds and yellows mingled with 
 the greens in wild confusion, making the hills an 
 echoing symphony of color-tones. 
 
 Nestling in one corner of the valley, at the foot 
 of the hill on which they stood, lay the little 
 village of Coleville, every detail of which was vis- 
 ible to their critical gaze. It was prettily situ- 
 ated, and the sylvan stillness of its environments 
 gave it an air of peace and tranquillity quite in 
 harmony with the wild and varied scenery over- 
 topping it. 
 
 There was the village green, a relic of earlier 
 days, blocked in a square which marked the vil- 
 lage center, from which branched the various 
 streets and by-lanes. To the left of this ran the 
 principal street on which was lined the grocery 
 store and post office combined, a dry-goods store, 
 a general notion store, Stanton's Tavern, and fur- 
 ther along, hanging to the skirts of the village, 
 the little white church with its square belfry tower 
 surmounted by a tall, slender spire. Facing the
 
 168 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 square on one side, a high hill rose gently, on the 
 summit of which stood the mansion of the Coles. 
 On the other side of the square, the great plant 
 of Cole and Company stretched over several acres, 
 flanked on the right by the river which tumbled 
 noisily over the falls under the bridge and swept 
 on its course through meadows and woods; and 
 on the left by a carriage road which led to the 
 little smoky railroad station beyond. 
 
 Hardly six weeks had passed since Robert had 
 come into his heritage. Six busy weeks they had 
 been. He had thrown himself into the breach 
 with wonderful energy and fortitude, and while 
 he remained under the guidance of Mark Gibson, 
 had carried himself with prudence and modera- 
 tion, much to the surprise of his mother and Bell, 
 who knew him better than he knew himself. 
 
 But he had begun to grow restive under Mark's 
 restraining influence and cautious foresight. 
 Mark had seen it, and it pained him ; yet he made 
 all sorts of excuses for the lad and kept on the 
 even tenor of his way, hoping for the best. 
 
 Things had moved along smoothly until he be- 
 gan to put his social theories to the practical 
 test. Mark cautioned him not to go too far. 
 His long experience in dealing with the men in the 
 works made him skeptical of results, and he could 
 see no use in stirring up a hornets' nest if there 
 was nothing to be gained by it. He knew that 
 Robert meant well; but thought his lack of ex- 
 perience and knowledge of men handicapped him.
 
 ST. JOHN DECIDES TO STAY 169 
 
 As we already know, he had been brought up in 
 seclusion, his only companions in boyhood and 
 youth, outside of his immediate family circle, hav- 
 ing been Mark Gibson, Frank and Ruth Bent. 
 
 He had gone from Coleville to college and come 
 back from college to Coleville; this was the ex- 
 tent of his travels ; and beyond the experience to 
 be gained from an occasional brush with the stu- 
 dents and his intercourse with the professors, he 
 had had little chance to rub up against the out- 
 side world. Of opinions, ideas, and theories of 
 men, such as are to be gleaned from books, he had 
 a surfeit; but of men and their ways as a mass 
 of humanity, of real human nature in all its di- 
 versities, he had acquired very little practical 
 knowledge. Even the people of Coleville were 
 strangers to him, so far as their actual modes of 
 living and thinking were concerned. True, he 
 knew many of them by name; and occasionally, 
 when a boy, had been in their homes for a few mo- 
 ments at a time with Frank Bent. But it could 
 hardly be said that he knew them as a people ; for 
 only the best side of their hard lives was open to 
 his observation on these casual calls. Even what 
 he did see, little as that was, was intolerable to 
 his refined nature. Thinking that he knew the 
 cause of much of this poverty and filth, and that 
 he had the power to eradicate it, now that he was 
 master of the situation, he meant to inaugurate a 
 series of sweeping reforms among the people; re- 
 forms, that would root out all existing evils.
 
 Yes, he would make a clean sweep, and at once; 
 but where should he begin? 
 
 It was to settle this perplexing question that 
 he had taken into his confidence Dr. St. John, 
 whose opportune visit to Coleville seemed a god- 
 send to the inexperienced young mill-owner. 
 
 Strange things had happened in Coleville dur- 
 ing the past few weeks things which had 
 changed the general aspect of the big sooty 
 foundry, and had given it rather a jaunty appear- 
 ance. The new owner had taken the reins into 
 his own hands and everything seemed to be mov- 
 ing at a two-forty pace. The yards had been 
 cleaned of piles and piles of rubbish, the accumu- 
 lation of years; the inside of the office had been 
 renovated and the outside had been freshened by 
 a coat of brick paint; the ugliness of the sur- 
 rounding yard had been hidden by a layer of 
 velvety, green sods, with here and there a flower- 
 bed laid out in some fanciful design, in which a 
 variety of brilliant hued blossoms shed their per- 
 fume on every passing breeze. The help looked 
 on in open-mouthed wonderment and asked each 
 other, " What next ? " In the midst of this came 
 rumors of the possible closing up of a certain 
 shanty known as Stanton's Tavern. The bare 
 hint of such a proceeding was enough to conjure 
 a spirit of revolt among the bibbers who fre- 
 quented the place, and who took much pleasure in 
 watching their hard-earned dimes and dollars slip 
 over the smooth surface of the bar and drop with
 
 ST. JOHN DECIDES TO STAY 171 
 
 a jingle into the well-filled till of the landlord, Jack 
 Stanton. 
 
 That such a revolt was actually in fermenta- 
 tion might be gathered from the low mutterings 
 of discontent and the scowling looks that followed 
 the young mill-owner whenever he passed through 
 the mill or the village. It was like the rumble 
 of distant thunder preceding a storm. The doc- 
 tor had heard something of this only the day 
 previous, when he had come suddenly on a group 
 of workmen during the noon hour. They were 
 discussing the new " boss," as they called Robert, 
 in loud tones and emphatic language. Knowing 
 something of Robert's plans from what Mrs. Cole 
 had told him, the doctor was in a position to un- 
 derstand the angry menacing attitude of the men 
 whenever the " boss " was mentioned. 
 
 And here on this, the doctor's last day in Cole- 
 ville, the young man had become very communica- 
 tive with his guest. He had shown him over the 
 mill, over the village, and over the whole extent 
 of his newly acquired possessions; pointing out 
 the defects of the village system ; explaining the 
 evils resulting from such a course of government, 
 or rather lack of government, as that followed by 
 his father for so many years, and finally unfold- 
 ing his well-laid plans for an immediate change. 
 
 The old doctor had listened to his young 
 friend's extravagant schemes for the regeneration 
 of the villagers without deigning to make any 
 reply until they had reached the point at which
 
 172 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 the chapter opens. All the time, however, he had 
 been studying his host and grinding many of his 
 theories " gigantic conceits " the doctor called 
 them into powder ; and he now stood prepared 
 to throw the dust over the glamour of many of 
 those projects. 
 
 " What do you mean, Doctor? " asked Robert, 
 returning to the subject under discussion after 
 a moment's silence, during which time his eyes 
 had followed the bent of the doctor's over the 
 valley. 
 
 " Simply this, Robert," he said gravely, his 
 eyes still resting on the picturesque scene stretch- 
 ing off and melting in the purple haze above the 
 distant hills ; " that while your ideas are grand 
 and noble, capital, as I said in the beginning, 
 they are too ideal for present conditions, and 
 your plans for carrying them out are impractical, 
 to say the least. You will find it no easy task 
 to change the habits and customs of a lifetime ; as 
 for attempting a presto change act, your own 
 judgment ought to warn you against such a 
 course. It would be a suicidal policy, to follow 
 which would only react to your own disadvantage 
 in the end. No, Robert, your plans can not very 
 well be put into practice, especially among the 
 people with whom you have to deal." 
 
 " The people with whom I have to deal ! " he 
 repeated softly, the shadow of a smile twitching 
 at the corners of his mouth. " Why, Doctor, you 
 don't know the people with whom I have to deal.
 
 ST. JOHN DECIDES TO STAY 173 
 
 " I fear it is you, Robert, who do not know 
 them," answered the doctor, shaking his head with 
 much gravity. 
 
 " I ought to know them. I have lived among 
 them all my life," he replied with a smile. 
 
 " Not exactly among them, Robert ; you have 
 lived over them, a mile and a half above them, 
 on the hill yonder." And he jerked his thumb 
 sideways to the stately residence, crowning the 
 summit of a hill that shelved upward from the 
 road winding like a narrow ribbon of gray through 
 and over the hills. 
 
 " Is it necessary for a man to live in the depths 
 of degradation to know the misery such a life 
 generates ? " asked Robert after a moment's pause. 
 " I live just where my father lived for the last 
 fifty years, and he knew the people." 
 
 " True ! He knew the people ; knew them well 
 enough to let them live their own lives and not 
 interfere with their liberty to do as they pleased 
 with their own," replied the doctor calmly. " I do 
 not wish to discourage you in your good work, 
 Robert; but I must warn you against any hasty 
 step. There is the faintest rumble in the village 
 already, and I should not like to see a storm 
 burst over your head at the outset of your ca- 
 reer." 
 
 " I see, Doctor, you do not understand my 
 people. They have always been loyal to my 
 father's interests; and there is no reason why 
 they should not be loyal to mine. They will do
 
 174- THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 as I want them to do. I would stake my life 
 on that point ! " 
 
 There was a touch of pride in his tone as he 
 uttered the last sentence. 
 
 " I fear you would lose your stake, Robert," 
 he said, shaking his head sadly. " There are 
 limits beyond which no self-respecting man will 
 go in his submission to what he may be pleased 
 to call by the ugly term ' tyranny.' ' 
 
 " Tyranny ! " exclaimed the young enthusiast, 
 aghast at the mere mention of the word. " You 
 surely do not call the helping of people to better 
 their condition tyranny ! " 
 
 " Helping people to better their condition is 
 one thing; coercing them into living according 
 to your ideals is quite another. Carried to a 
 certain point, the latter might be construed as a 
 species of tyranny. Manners, customs, tastes, 
 and appetites are not formed in a day. They are 
 the growth of years. Some are centuries old, and 
 so firmly rooted in the soul of the people that 
 nothing short of regeneration can eradicate them. 
 To attempt to wipe them out with a single stroke 
 would be resented by most men as a piece of high- 
 handed interference with their liberties." 
 
 " But, Doctor, I may say whether a saloon 
 shall or shall not be run on my premises? " 
 
 " Certainly you may ; but you can't station a 
 guard at every crossroad leading into your town, 
 to search those who enter for contraband goods. 
 I can think of such a course being pursued by some
 
 ST. JOHN DECIDES TO STAY 175 
 
 grand duke of Russia; but by an American, 
 never ! " 
 
 " I should hardly want to do that," he replied 
 quickly, with a shade of disappointment in his 
 voice. It was evident to the doctor that Robert 
 was piqued. 
 
 The fact was, Robert had hoped to enlist the 
 doctor's sympathy in his plans, and to gain his 
 approval in carrying them out. But here he was 
 in direct opposition to them, opposing them even 
 more strenuously than his mother, Bell or Mark 
 had done. A strained silence fell between them, 
 broken at last by the doctor. 
 
 " Your father succeeded amazingly well because 
 he never interfered with the liberties of his work- 
 men to live as they pleased." 
 
 " True," replied the young man with a sad 
 smile, " but that does not prove that my father 
 was right and that I am all wrong on this ques- 
 tion. A great deal can be learned from the mis- 
 takes of others. That my father winked at dog 
 fighting, cock fighting, petty gambling, and a 
 drinking saloon within the confines of his prop- 
 erty is no reason why I should do so, and allow 
 the men to continue to debauch themselves at the 
 expense of their women and children. It may 
 sound well to talk of the personal liberty of the 
 men ; but what about the personal liberty of the 
 women and children? Have they no rights, no 
 liberties, which should be respected? Must they 
 go on forever cowering and suffering under the
 
 176 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 tyranny of drunken, debauched fathers, husbands, 
 sons, and brothers, and no one raise a hand or a 
 voice in their defense? 
 
 " I tell you, Doctor, it makes me sick at heart 
 to see a creature in the shape of a man stand with 
 his heel on the breasts of helpless women and 
 children, grinding them into the lowest depths of 
 degradation, while he swells out his chest and 
 howls for personal liberty. Personal liberty, for- 
 sooth ! The only inalienable personal liberty that 
 belongs to any man is the liberty to do right ! 
 My conscience tells me that it is right for me 
 to close that saloon, and I mean to close it, come 
 what may ! " 
 
 " Bravo, my lad, I like to see a spark of de- 
 termination in a young man, even though I do not 
 agree with him," said the doctor with a smile. 
 " But let me ask you one question. You 
 wouldn't think of planting wheat until the ground 
 had been prepared to receive it, would you ? " 
 
 " No, I think not." 
 
 " Then why attempt to force these reforms be- 
 fore you have in some measure paved the way 
 for them? Why not try to win your people over 
 to your way of thinking, and let them work out 
 their own reforms? Forced fruits are never the 
 best. Your own personality should count for 
 much in this little town if you take up this work 
 in the right way; and with a little help from the 
 minister and, perhaps, your mother and Bell, and 
 this new doctor whom you expect to settle here,
 
 ST. JOHN DECIDES TO STAY 177 
 
 you ought to be able to carry everything your 
 own way. But don't attempt to brush the cob- 
 webs off the moon with a single sweep of a short 
 handled broom! And by the way, Robert, what 
 a snap your village doctor will have ! " 
 
 " Yes, it will be a sinecure for the right man, 
 the people are so healthy." 
 
 " I am half tempted to apply for the berth 
 myself," laughed the doctor. 
 
 " And why not ? " asked Robert, turning a ques- 
 tioning look into his face. 
 
 " Why not, indeed ? " repeated the doctor 
 meditatively, looking off over the valley to the 
 line of blue ridges beyond. " It strikes me as 
 just the thing, Robert. I feel that I owe some- 
 thing to my native land after my long absence 
 and neglect. Why could I not pay my long de- 
 ferred debt by administering to the physical needs 
 of the thousand or so souls in this valley, and pass 
 my declining years amid the beauties of my na- 
 tive hills?" 
 
 Robert looked at him in surprise. 
 
 " Doctor St. John, can anything induce you to 
 settle among us?" Robert asked, jumping at 
 the bare suggestion. 
 
 " It would take very little urging to make me 
 think favorably of it," replied the doctor with a 
 far-away look in his mild gray eyes. 
 
 Robert placed his arm lovingly across the 
 shoulders of the old doctor and said with a ring 
 of genuine pleasure in his voice,
 
 178 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " Come, let me show you the pretty house that 
 is building for the sole accommodation of our new 
 doctor. There it stands on the hill yonder ! " 
 He pointed to a neat cottage of the Queen Anne 
 style in course of erection a short distance up the 
 road, not far from where they stood. " Just say 
 the word, and you can have any alterations or 
 additions that will suit your convenience and 
 taste." 
 
 " Let us walk up and look it over ; if it suits 
 me, I may accept your offer," he replied with a 
 laugh. " But if I do, it will be on one condition." 
 
 " Name it ! " 
 
 " That you will wait awhile longer, say six 
 months, before putting your plans into execu- 
 tion." 
 
 " Agreed ! " he exclaimed with a touch of en- 
 thusiasm. " If such a concession can secure so 
 good a doctor for my people, I shall think it well 
 made !" 
 
 The two men walked leisurely up the hill, with 
 Robert expatiating on the grandeur of the scen- 
 ery and the natural resources of the streams and 
 woods all the way. 
 
 The cottage was inspected and the whole situ- 
 ation gone over; and resulted in the decision of 
 the doctor to settle in Coleville. And within a 
 month his sign was swinging from the piazza over 
 the front door, and he himself domiciled within. 
 
 The doctor was not long in winning his way 
 among the people. He was an eccentric old fel-
 
 ST. JOHN DECIDES TO STAY 179 
 
 low, with an unlimited fund of droll, dry humor 
 from which to draw on all occasions. And he 
 drew on it lavishly and dispensed it on all sides. 
 He seemed to live up to the old adage that a 
 hearty laugh is better than medicine. His ex- 
 tensive travels having thrown him into all sorts 
 of company, he had developed a cosmopolitan 
 spirit which cropped out at almost every turn. 
 At times one might see him the center of a group 
 of unwashed men at the mill gate, or perhaps at 
 the grocery store sitting astride a rickety old 
 chair tilted back against the wall, discussing poli- 
 tics, cracking jokes, or telling long stories of his 
 foreign travel. He gave freely of his knowledge, 
 not pedantically, but rather with the air of a 
 man who disseminates learning for the sheer pleas- 
 ure of giving of his abundance to appease the 
 hunger in the souls of his less fortunate brothers. 
 
 He went freely among the cottagers, dropping 
 a hint here and there among the women as to the 
 best methods of caring for the babies, and promot- 
 ing health by cleanliness. He made a confidant 
 of every child in the village, and was elected cap- 
 tain of the boys' baseball team. In fact, he made 
 himself felt everywhere. The men soon learned 
 to appreciate and admire him; the women to con- 
 fide in him; and the children, big and little, to 
 adore him. 
 
 Being a skilful physician and surgeon, he was 
 soon in demand for miles around. But he posi- 
 tively refused to respond to any calls beyond the
 
 180 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 limits of the village, except in extreme cases. 
 When one of the men expressed a wonder at his 
 confining himself to such a narrow field as that 
 afforded by the village, he answered: 
 
 " I find it just the ideal work in which to spend 
 my declining years, Mr. Stone, the ideal work, 
 Mr. Stone, and the ideal place in which to balance 
 my accounts with Uncle Sam."
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE DOCTOR HAS A PATIENT THRUST 
 UPON HIM 
 
 The fall glided rapidly on and trailed into a 
 delightful Indian Summer, and at last winter 
 closed in with her dead white grandeur. The doc- 
 tor had found those days among the most happy 
 and peaceful of his long life. He had his horse 
 and dog and was often met, mounted on a beauti- 
 ful roan, cantering over the country roads; or 
 perhaps, with a gun or rod slung over his shoul- 
 der, tramping through the woods accompanied by 
 his well-trained hounds. 
 
 December came, cold, raw, snappy December; 
 and Christmas week had been ushered in. 
 Towards the close of a bright sunshiny day in that 
 week the doctor was returning from an afternoon 
 hunt. He was serenely happy as he trudged 
 along over the hard snow, with his well-earned 
 trophies, two fine rabbits and a hare, dangling 
 from the barrel of his gun as it rested on his shoul- 
 der. It was early twilight when he struck the 
 railroad track half a mile below the covered bridge 
 that spanned the river a short distance behind 
 
 the works. A solemn stillness pervaded the earth, 
 
 181
 
 182 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 the very streams being hushed under their heavy 
 armors of ice. Hills, valleys, and streams 
 stretched away in one unbroken sheet of glisten- 
 ing whiteness to meet the pink line of the horizon. 
 Impressed by the solemnity of Nature in her icy 
 garb, he would pause occasionally to bring his 
 soul into closer touch with the passive silence 
 around him. 
 
 Reaching the bridge in this tranquil mood, he 
 was about to enter when the shrill whistle of a 
 locomotive startled him, and reminded him that 
 the five o'clock freight was due. He had barely 
 time to step back and take shelter with his dogs 
 among the branches of a fallen tree on the edge 
 of the precipitous embankment, before the loco- 
 motive loomed around the curve where it had been 
 shut off from sight and sound by the over-hang- 
 ing hills. On it came, puffing and blowing like a 
 huge fabulous monster. It gave an angry screech 
 as it drove past him and disappeared under the 
 black roof of the bridge. Car after car rolled 
 by with a dizzying motion and a rumble that 
 jarred the earth and made the tree on which he 
 had taken refuge tremble under his feet. When 
 the end hove in sight he breathed more freely, and 
 prepared to spring into the roadbed as soon as it 
 should pass. The last car dashed past; but be- 
 fore he had time to move, he saw a dark object 
 hurled from the top of the car and fall with a 
 dull, heavy thud across the track a few feet in 
 front of where he stood.
 
 THE DOCTOR HAS A PATIENT 183 
 
 For a moment he was unnerved. He could see 
 by the shape that it was a man, and he realized 
 that the poor fellow had been struck by the bridge 
 and swept from his position on the top of the 
 car. The barking of his dogs roused him into 
 action ; and leaping on the track, he peered into 
 the white, upturned face of the man as he lay, 
 stretched at full length across the track, appar- 
 ently lifeless. 
 
 He started, and exclaimed, 
 
 "My God! Melicent!" 
 
 It was a handsome face, almost feminine in its 
 contour, that he gazed upon; and though a trifle 
 bloated from dissipation, much of its natural 
 beauty could be traced as it rested there, calm 
 and white in the shadow of death, under the pale 
 light of the full moon which had now risen high 
 in the eastern sky. 
 
 Dropping on his knees beside the injured mar, 
 he made a hasty examination, and found that life 
 was not extinct. He also found that besides a 
 fractured skull, from which the blood was flowing 
 freely, the poor fellow was pretty well shattered. 
 He administered a stimulant which he happened 
 to have in his pouch, and with the meagre means 
 at his disposal, staunched the flow of blood, band- 
 aged his head, and, then dragging him off the 
 track to a place of safety, left his dogs on guard 
 while he hurried across the bridge to the village 
 for help. 
 
 The doctor soon returned with a number of
 
 184. THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 men, who gently laid the young man on a litter 
 which they had brought along, and bore him 
 safely across th*e bridge. This was no easy task, 
 for it was pitch-dark under the hood of the bridge ; 
 and besides, there was no flooring, nothing but the 
 sleepers on which to walk, and it took three men 
 with lanterns to light and guide them over the 
 dangerous passage. They passed over safely, 
 however, and carried the wounded man to the 
 doctor's home, where he was left in the doctor's 
 charge. 
 
 The doctor lost no time in getting to work. 
 The young man was immediately stripped, and 
 with the assistance of Robert and the minister, 
 whom he had sent for and pressed into service, 
 the doctor set about reducing fractures, stitching 
 gashes, and bandaging broken limbs. Now and 
 again he would look searchingly into the young 
 man's face with a curious expression in his eyes ; 
 but he never once let up until every wound was 
 dressed. Through it all the young man re- 
 mained unconscious. Twice during the opera- 
 tions Robert and the minister both counseled the 
 doctor to cease, as it was hoping beyond hope 
 to expect anything but death from such a wreck. 
 In fact, they thought he was already dead, and 
 that the doctor was experimenting on the first 
 surgical case he had had since he came to Cole- 
 ville. But the doctor knew better. He shook his 
 head and said simply, 
 
 " While there's life, there's hope,"
 
 THE DOCTOR HAS A PATIENT 185 
 
 Finally the task was done, and the stranger 
 laid on a cot in a small room leading off the office ; 
 then the doctor turned his attention to the work 
 of reviving him. 
 
 Their services being no longer needed, Robert 
 and the minister left the house, too faint and over- 
 come by the ordeal of playing doctor's assistant 
 to raise any question as to the young man's iden- 
 tity. His torn and blood-stained clothing, when 
 removed, had been rolled in a bundle and laid on 
 the closet floor by Norah, and no further thought 
 given to them. 
 
 All night the stranger lay unconscious ; and 
 all night the doctor paced restlessly between the 
 bedside of his patient and the medicine cabinet in 
 his office, or rested for brief intervals in his deep- 
 seated easy-chair, which he had wheeled in front 
 of the open door of the chamber. 
 
 Morning dawned; still there was no change, 
 unless the faintest perceptible color in the lips 
 could be called a change. Breakfast being ready, 
 the doctor took a few moments to eat and refresh 
 himself, leaving Norah, his housekeeper, in the 
 office to watch his patient for signs of return- 
 ing life, and to tidy up a bit. When he 
 returned Norah had finished her work. Taking 
 up a duster which lay on the table, she accidentally 
 switched off a pair of kid gloves. She stooped, 
 picked up the gloves, and recognizing them as be- 
 longing to the young man, stood smoothing them 
 out with a caressing touch when she felt something
 
 186 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 hard inside of one of them. Holding the glove 
 up, she shook it gently, when a glittering object 
 fell to the floor and rolled in a gleaming circle to 
 the feet of the doctor. 
 
 Norah gave a little scream of delight as she 
 gazed in open-mouthed wonder at the glistening 
 circle scintillating in a streak of sunlight on the 
 floor. The doctor glanced at it, turned deathly 
 pale, staggered backward, and sank into his chair, 
 trembling from head to foot. 
 
 Norah rushed to his side in a fright, exclaiming 
 in kindly tones, 
 
 " O, Doctor, you're worn out with being up all 
 night; let me tend to the poor young gentleman 
 while you go to bed for a few hours' rest." 
 
 He did not answer her ; he only laid his hand on 
 hers and pressed it gently, as though thankful 
 for her sympathy. She picked up the circlet of 
 flame and placed it in his hands. Then he waved 
 her from the room. He looked at the glittering 
 object, which proved to be a ring of curious work- 
 manship and of priceless value. It lay on his 
 open palm, where the sunlight could play on its 
 many colored gems, and he gazed at it in rev- 
 erential silence. Slowly his head sank upon 
 his breast, tears trickled down his deeply fur- 
 rowed cheeks, while a dreamy expression stole 
 into his eyes. His lips moved and he solilo- 
 quized : 
 
 " Yes, he is her son ! I felt it the moment I 
 saw him ; I know it now for a certainty. But how
 
 THE DOCTOR HAS A PATIENT 
 
 strange that he should be cast at my feet in such 
 a tragic manner ! Ah, Melicent, I know not 
 whether you are near or far; but this I do know: 
 that your son is branded with the curse of your 
 house. Young as he is, I can trace it in his face ; 
 its fumes were in his breath last night. Can it 
 be possible that from some far-away spirit land 
 you have guided him to me to test my skill? God 
 alone can tell ! At least, I must think so and save 
 him. I will save him ! For your sake, Melicent, 
 I will save him ! " 
 
 He rose, walked into the chamber, and stood 
 in meditative silence beside the bed, his gaze fixed 
 upon the marble features before him. 
 
 " Yes," he said aloud, speaking softly ; " he 
 has much of his mother's beauty ; he ought to have 
 some of her strength of character. If I can only 
 check him on that downward grade on which he 
 is evidently well started! If?" his air suddenly 
 changed to one of determination ; his eyes blazed 
 with the birth-light of a glorious purpose. 
 "There is no ' if ' in the case; I must!" The 
 last words were uttered with much force, reveal- 
 ing a spark of the hidden power lurking beneath 
 that usually calm exterior. The tone also was 
 louder than he realized. 
 
 A slight tremor crept over the frame on the 
 bed, followed by a faint flutter of the lashes. Al- 
 most instantly, the lids flew wide open, and two 
 large brown eyes looked into the doctor's with 
 a wild and startled air.
 
 188 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 The doctor bent over the bed, placed his fingers 
 on the wrist of his patient, and said kindly, 
 
 " Don't be alarmed, my lad, you are among 
 friends." 
 
 There was no response, for a spasm of pain 
 contorted the features of the young man ; the 
 eyelids quivered, drooped languidly, and again he 
 lay white and rigid, as one in death. 
 
 The doctor returned to the sitting-room, and 
 throwing -himself wearily into his arm-chair, sat 
 for some moments in a brown study. Then rous- 
 ing himself, he picked up his newspaper, which 
 had lain neglected on the table at his elbow all 
 night. Unfolding it, his eyes lighted casually on 
 a flare headline description of a mysterious mur- 
 der which had been committed in a town in north- 
 ern New Hampshire. He seldom read such de- 
 tails ; but this seemed to fascinate him, for he 
 eagerly devoured every word of it. He even read 
 it through a second time, and partly through a 
 third. Then he rose and walked the floor nerv- 
 ously, with his hands clasped behind him and his 
 head sunk forward on his breast. 
 
 Occasionally he would pause before the chamber 
 door and glance at the young man lying so pale 
 and still on the bed. Presently he called Norah 
 and asked for the morning papers. She brought 
 them in and laid them on the table. Seating him- 
 self again, he took up the paper. His hands 
 trembled and cold drops of perspiration stood out 
 on his forehead as he read in flaring headlines that
 
 THE DOCTOR HAS A PATIENT 189 
 
 a big reward was offered for the apprehension of 
 the supposed murderer, followed by a full descrip- 
 tion of the fugitive. 
 
 The paper dropped to the floor, and the doc- 
 tor sat for sometime in a deep study. Rising 
 suddenly, he opened the door of the clothes-press, 
 and took out the torn and blood-soaked garments 
 of the young man. After carefully examining 
 the clothing, which he found to be of fine texture 
 and of fashionable cut, he folded each garment 
 loosely, and piled them all together on the closet 
 floor. Next, he opened the stove door, and thrust- 
 ing in the papers, stood and watched them burst 
 into flames and dissolve into ashes. Several times 
 that morning Norah came into the room sniffing 
 the air, and complaining that she smelled rags 
 burning. The doctor pooh-poohed, and told her 
 that she was suffering from a severe attack of 
 smokasia, which might prove fatal if she did not 
 get better control over her olfactory nerves. 
 
 About the middle of the afternoon Robert 
 dropped in to see if the stranger had recovered 
 consciousness, and to inquire if the doctor had 
 found any clue to his identity. Dr. St. John 
 assured him that not a mark was on the clothing 
 which would throw any light on the question as 
 to who the young man was, where he came from, 
 and whither he was going. To prove which as- 
 sertion he brought out a bundle of torn and bloody 
 garments and spread them out for Robert's in- 
 spection. Though the clothing was very much
 
 190 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 torn and cut up, as well as soaked with blood, 
 Robert saw that the suit was an ordinary suit 
 of a gray mixture, one that might be worn either 
 by a professional or a business man. He was not 
 a trainman ; of that they were both convinced. 
 
 While talking, the doctor incidentally thrust 
 his fingers into the pocket of the vest which he 
 happened to be holding in his hand at the mo- 
 ment, and drew forth a small, white card. He 
 gave a low whistle as he held it up, and began 
 to fumble for his glasses, that he might read the 
 inscription. His glasses not being in their usual 
 place, he handed the card to Robert, who read it 
 aloud, 
 
 "Arthur Craig, M.D., St. Louis, Mo." 
 
 " That settles it," broke in the doctor. " He 
 is some poor down-and-out devil of a doctor, who 
 found himself stranded somewhere and was mak- 
 ing his way home the best he could. Supposing 
 we keep the matter of the accident quiet until 
 he recovers sufficiently to give an account of him- 
 self. I think that will be the best way to save 
 him from disgrace. You see if it gets into the 
 papers, we'll have a host of inquisitive reporters 
 writing him up and spoiling his chances of re- 
 demption." 
 
 Robert readily agreed with the doctor, and 
 went off to instruct the few who knew of the ac- 
 cident to keep quiet for the present. 
 
 Several days elapsed after this before the young 
 man showed any further signs of life, and during
 
 THE DOCTOR HAS A PATIENT 191 
 
 all this time no one was allowed to see him ex- 
 cept Norah and the doctor. Then a change came 
 for the better, and within a week the doctor gave 
 out positively that his patient would recover ; but 
 it would be months ere he would be able to move 
 about with any sort of activity. 
 
 " Well, my lad," said the doctor pleasantly, 
 seating himself beside the bed, and placing his fin- 
 gers on the fluttering pulse of the young man, 
 " I must congratulate you on your grit and power 
 of endurance. You have stood the ordeals ad- 
 mirably ! In fact, you are a regular Spartan ! 
 I think, however, this is the end of the probing. 
 I expect the wound to heal now without further 
 trouble." 
 
 He had just finished dressing the wound on his 
 patient's head. The skull had been badly frac- 
 tured; and the doctor had found it necessary to 
 perform several delicate operations, each one of 
 which had been a source of great anxiety to the 
 doctor, and of much pain to his patient. 
 
 "Thank the gods for that assurance!" ejacu- 
 lated the young man, with more interest and en- 
 ergy than he had shown at any time since he came 
 under the doctor's charge, some four weeks past. 
 " Hell can have no more excruciating tortures in 
 store for the votaries of his Satanic Majesty, than 
 I have endured under the tender mercies of science. 
 I have sometimes wondered whether it was worth 
 while to bear them, or " 
 
 He smiled grimly at the doctor.
 
 192 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 "Or what?" The doctor looked at him 
 sharply. 
 
 " ' A quietus make with a bare bobkin,' " he 
 quoted, meeting the doctor's eyes with an unflinch- 
 ing stare. 
 
 A shade of sorrow settled on the old doctor's 
 face. 
 
 " Ah, my lad, I fear you have a wrong concep- 
 tion of life," he said after a moment's pause, shak- 
 ing his head sadly. " Life is a priceless gift, not 
 to be held lightly, or cast aside on the calumnious 
 whispers of that whimsical jade, Despondency." 
 
 " That depends altogether on the life in ques- 
 tion, Doctor. Some lives are worthless. It 
 would be a boon to mankind could such be snuffed 
 out in the cradle before they become a curse on 
 the face of the earth ! " 
 
 His voice had a ring of bitterness, and his eyes 
 wandered off with a dejected air to a picture on 
 the wall at the foot of the bed. 
 
 " Who is to judge of the value of a human life? 
 Is it you or I, with our insignificant knowledge 
 of the universe and its boundless possibilities, or 
 God who created it, and who, with his infinite 
 power and marvelous wisdom, ordains all things 
 for some wise purpose? " The doctor had as- 
 sumed a serious and reverent tone; and he im- 
 pressed his patient as being very much in earnest. 
 
 " I ought to respect your opinion," he said 
 humbly, his eyes still resting on the picture on 
 the wall ; " but you see, Doctor, I have had time
 
 to reflect while I have been lying here, and I can't 
 help thinking that the world would be little the 
 poorer could I shuffle off this mortal coil and yield 
 the space I occupy to some worthier man." 
 
 The doctor smiled, dropped the emaciated wrist, 
 rubbed his hands together gleefully, and chuckled. 
 
 " Glad to know you have been reflecting, my 
 boy ; glad to know you have been reflecting ! 
 There is some hope for the future of the young 
 man who takes time for reflection. As for the 
 shuffling off, my boy, don't think of it ; it's a bar- 
 barous thought ! " His mouth puckered up and 
 his whole face wrinkled into a frown. " At least," 
 he continued after a moment's pause, his face sud- 
 denly resuming its normal lines, " at least not 
 while you have a fighting chance to live. It 
 wouldn't be complimentary to my skill, you see ; 
 and it wouldn't be just to yourself. Why, man, 
 the best part of your life is before you ! " 
 
 " But you don't know the devil that is in me, 
 Doctor ! " he burst forth, his eyes full of a des- 
 perate purpose. 
 
 " I know all I care to know, lad, all I care to 
 know," he interrupted. " Just 
 
 ' Let the dead past bury its dead/ 
 
 and only look at the future." His eyes took on 
 a dreamy expression and his voice softened to a 
 mellow, silvery tone. " A brilliant career awaits 
 you, lad; a brilliant career awaits you if " he
 
 194- THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 broke off abruptly and raised his eyes to the pic- 
 ture on the wall at the foot of the bed. 
 
 " If? " questioned the young man eagerly, fol- 
 lowing the bent of the doctor's eyes. 
 
 The picture to which the eyes of both men had 
 instinctively turned was a portrait, showing the 
 head and bust of a young woman not more than 
 eighteen years of age. It was a beautiful face 
 that looked out of that canvas, round, full, sym- 
 metrical, and encircled by a mass of light-brown 
 hair. The lips wore a smile, which gave shadowy 
 dimples to the cheeks and a touch of life to the 
 whole face. But in the eyes lurked the charm. 
 They were large, liquid, of the same color as the 
 hair, and strangely fascinating. They seemed to 
 chide, plead, scold, pity, encourage, and approve 
 by turns ; and the young man had grown accus- 
 tomed to appeal to them for courage and strength 
 to bear the pains that racked his shattered body 
 during those past weary weeks. 
 
 The young man's eyes filled with a marvelous 
 brightness as they rested on that face now, and 
 he blushed crimson when the doctor's eyes sud- 
 denly returned to his face with a penetrating look 
 and caught the telltale light shining through that 
 enraptured gaze. The doctor pretended not to 
 see his patient's confusion, and struck directly at 
 the point in issue, and answered the " if," which 
 had been left hanging in the air. 
 
 " If you will remain with me, and be guided 
 by my counsel, absolutely, for the next five years
 
 THE DOCTOR HAS A PATIENT 195 
 
 at least." He spoke slowly, as though weighing 
 his words carefully, scrutinizing his patient 
 keenly the while to note the effect of the proposi- 
 tion. 
 
 A look of blank amazement flitted across his 
 face, and his mental faculties worked with remark- 
 able rapidity for the few seconds he remained 
 silent, gazing inquiringly into the doctor's face. 
 
 " Doctor," he said abruptly, then paused. 
 
 " Yes," encouraged the doctor. 
 
 " I am in your home? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " How came I here ? " 
 
 " I had you brought here after the mishap." 
 
 " What was the mishap ? " 
 
 " You have me there, lad," he said, shaking his 
 head dubiously. " As near as I can make out, 
 you were swept from the top of a freight car as 
 it entered the covered bridge below the village. 
 Now, will you explain how you came to be on the 
 top of that car? " 
 
 " Yes," he answered frankly. " I left my train 
 at the junction where we had five minutes to wait, 
 and went into a nearby saloon to get a drink. 
 When I returned, my train had gone; and I was 
 told that no other train would leave there till 
 morning, except a freight which was then stand- 
 ing on a siding. It was then about four o'clock 
 in the afternoon, and I saw at a glance that the 
 place was a little, one-horse concern, the only ac- 
 commodation for travelers being the tavern whose
 
 196 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 bar I had just patronized. I was chagrined at 
 my predicament ; and to make matters worse, the 
 train men guyed me for missing my train. I had 
 no money to pay for a night's lodging, for I had 
 spent my last cent on the drink, and I began 
 scratching my wits to find a way out of my 
 dilemma. Finally, a happy thought struck me. 
 I sauntered off, took a roundabout cut through 
 the bushes and came out at the rear end of that 
 train. Watching my chance, I climbed up on the 
 last car, and stretching myself flat along the roof, 
 I lay low till the train pulled out and cleared the 
 town ; then I sat up and took a survey of my sur- 
 roundings. At first I rather enjoyed the novelty 
 of my situation; but after riding over a vast 
 stretch of snow-covered country, with an icy blast 
 cutting the edges of my ears and taking an occa- 
 sional dash down my spinal column, my ardor 
 cooled, and I began to wish I had not ventured 
 on my foolhardy journey. The next thing I 
 knew I found myself in this bed, unable to move, 
 and racked with the most horrible pain. How 
 long have I been here ? " 
 
 " Nearly five weeks," replied the doctor. 
 
 " Nearly five weeks," he repeated in surprise ; 
 " and in all that time you have not once asked me 
 who I am," 
 
 " There was no need to ask, I knew you," said 
 the doctor, smiling. 
 
 He looked at the doctor searchingly.
 
 THE DOCTOR HAS A PATIENT 197 
 
 " But I don't know you." 
 
 " Nothing strange about that, my lad," re- 
 turned the doctor dryly. 
 
 " When and where did I ever meet you before? " 
 
 " You never met me before." 
 
 " Then how do you know who I am? " 
 
 " To be perfectly frank with you, my lad, I 
 recognized you by the remarkable resemblance you 
 bear to your mother, whom I knew in my youth, 
 and whose picture hangs there," pointing to the 
 portrait on the wall above the foot of the bed. 
 
 " My mother ! " he exclaimed in amazed tones, 
 his eyes following the wave of the doctor's hand. 
 " Yes, I see it now ; and here I've been racking 
 my brain for the last two weeks trying to recall 
 where I had seen that face before. We have a 
 portrait at home, but not like this ; it is full- 
 length, and shows her in maturity ; that is why 
 I did not recognize this. Yet, the eyes and the 
 mouth have the same expression. She was very 
 beautiful ? " he half questioned, tuniing his eyes 
 to the doctor's face. 
 
 " Yes," he replied slowly, a look of tenderness 
 creeping into his mild gray eyes. " She was in- 
 deed beautiful ; and good as she was beautiful ! " 
 Then hastening to change the subject, lest the 
 young man should penetrate the secret which had 
 lain dormant for over fifty years, he said, " You 
 wore a ring which I also recognized; do you know 
 anything about its history ? "
 
 198 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " A very little," he said reluctantly, raising his 
 eyes to the beautiful face looking down from the 
 canvas. 
 
 " There were two? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Who has the other?" 
 
 " My twin brother." 
 
 " Did your father not tell you anything about 
 the ring when he gave it to you ? " he asked, lean- 
 ing eagerly forward to catch the answer. 
 
 " Yes ; but I didn't pay much attention to what 
 he said, I was so taken up with the ring. I did 
 gather, however, that the rings were a wedding 
 gift to my mother from a lifelong friend in 
 India." 
 
 " Did he tell you his name? " 
 
 " Yes ; I think it was St. John ; he was a doc- 
 tor, I believe." 
 
 " Is that all you know? " 
 
 " All I can remember at present." 
 
 The doctor rose, clasped his hands behind his 
 back, bowed his head so that his chin rested on 
 his broad chest, and paced the narrow chamber 
 in a thoughtful mood. After a few turns back 
 and forth he paused in front of the bed, and look- 
 ing down into the pale face, he said: 
 
 " Well I am that Dr. St. John who sent those 
 rings to your mother." His words came with a 
 deliberation which betokened a reluctance to tell 
 more than was absolutely necessary to explain 
 his interest in the well-being of his patient.
 
 THE DOCTOR HAS A PATIENT 199 
 
 " You ! Dr. St. John ! " exclaimed the young 
 man in amazement, bringing his eyes to bear on 
 the doctor's inscrutable face ; " why, I understood 
 he was in India ; that he meant to end his days 
 there; and that he was to be laid at last in 
 the mausoleum of some native rajah, to whose 
 person he was attached." 
 
 " Such were my intentions," he said slowly, set- 
 tling himself back in his chair and folding his arms 
 across his breast, " but princes die as well as or- 
 dinary men; and unfortunately, or perhaps, for- 
 tunately for me, my old friend the rajah died first, 
 and his nephew, a man well towards middle age, 
 and of a vicious disposition, fell heir to his title 
 and vast estates. This nephew had long been 
 jealous of his uncle's love and respect for me, 
 and of my influence at the palace. No sooner 
 was the old rajah laid at rest than the new rajah 
 repudiated all the vows and solemn promises which 
 the former had made ; and I was secretly informed 
 that he was even trying to trump up a charge 
 against me in connection with his uncle's death, 
 which had occurred under suspicious circum- 
 stances. It seems that the nephew had called at 
 the palace that morning, and finding his uncle 
 a little indisposed, induced him to drink a glass 
 of wine. After drinking the wine the old rajah 
 complained of a nausea, and the nephew immedi- 
 ately left the palace. The old rajah grew rapidly 
 worse and died within the hour. I was in Cal- 
 cutta at the time, and did not hear of his death
 
 200 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 until the day of the burial, too late to be present 
 at the obsequies. This, of course, gave rise to 
 comment, and presented the opportunity for the 
 insidious whispers of the new rajah. That I had 
 been in Calcutta for two weeks previous to the 
 death of the old rajah mattered not, so far as the 
 designs of the nephew were concerned ; for I was 
 all masterful in my arts, and could use my charms 
 and conjurations from a distance with the same 
 effect as if near. I knew the enmity and the 
 power of the new rajah too well to risk falling 
 into his clutches, so I quietly settled up my af- 
 fairs and took passage on the first steamer bound 
 for England, and set out for my native land. 
 When I arrived in America I found very few peo- 
 ple whom I knew, or who knew me, except by repu- 
 tation ; so I settled down in this little haven, 
 where I now expect to end my days. Having ex- 
 plained my presence in America, what do you say 
 to my proposal? " 
 
 " Doctor," he said slowly, " I will be frank with 
 you, as you have been with me. I would gladly 
 accept your offer did I not feel it would be scur- 
 rilous in me to take advantage of a man so gener- 
 ous-hearted as you have shown yourself to be. 
 You see, Doctor, you don't know what a devil I 
 am when my blood is up." 
 
 " What a devil I have been, say," corrected the 
 doctor smiling. 
 
 " Oh, it's all the same," he replied with a dis- 
 consolate air, and his lashes drooped wearily on
 
 THE DOCTOR HAS A PATIENT 201 
 
 his cheeks ; " I have been, and am still, an ugly 
 specimen of a man." 
 
 " I believe in regeneration," said the doctor 
 gently. 
 
 The young man laughed bitterly, and asked, 
 
 " Can the devil clap wings on himself in an 
 instant and pass for an angel ? " 
 
 " He might ; and then meet the fate of Icarus 
 in his zeal to play the part well. But I am not 
 looking for wings, my lad, I know the spirit of 
 youth too well to expect a crop of angels to spring 
 from the sowing of wild oats; all I ask is, that 
 you will remain with me and make an effort to 
 redeem the past. I know you can do it if you 
 will but try." 
 
 " Do you mean that I can overcome my inher- 
 ent devilishness ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Again that impish laugh rang out, much to the 
 discomfort of the doctor, who saw an impatient 
 look flit across the young man's eyes. 
 
 "Do you not credit it?" he asked kindly, lay- 
 ing his fingers on his patient's pulse. 
 
 " No ! I have tried, God knows how hard and 
 often, and failed every time ! " he said almost 
 fiercely. 
 
 " There will be no more failures, my lad, if you 
 will trust yourself in my hands and be guided by 
 my advice," said the doctor, pressing the delicate 
 hand that lay helpless on the white coverlet. 
 
 " You don't understand, Doctor. I would only
 
 202 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 cause you sorrow and bring disgrace on you in 
 the end." His voice trembled slightly and a faint 
 blush of shame crept into his cheeks. 
 
 " Let me ask one question before we discuss this 
 matter further," said the doctor kindly. " Have 
 you felt any inclination to play the devil since you 
 have been under my roof? " 
 
 " No," he replied quickly, raising his eyes to 
 his mother's picture ; " I couldn't think evil with 
 those eyes looking into my very soul." 
 
 " Capital ! " said the doctor, with a low chuckle ; 
 " it is a good sign when the silent eyes of a sainted 
 mother can drive away evil thoughts from the 
 mind of a wayward son. There is hope for that 
 son, my lad, there is hope for that son ! Only 
 say you will stay with me, and we shall fight the 
 demon together ! aye, and conquer him ! " 
 
 " You are very kind, Doctor ! " 
 
 "Never mind the kindness; yes, or no?" 
 
 The young man looked straight into those hon- 
 est gray eyes, and murmured, 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Your name is to be Arthur Craig." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 He could not have said otherwise, had he wished, 
 for the gray eyes held him as in a trance. He 
 was tired also, and he felt a drowsiness creeping 
 over him. 
 
 " For five years ? " 
 
 " For five years," he repeated softly. 
 
 " That will do, now go to sleep ! " and dropping
 
 THE DOCTOR HAS A PATIENT 203 
 
 the slender wrist, the doctor rose and left the 
 room. 
 
 " Arthur Craig," repeated the young man in a 
 half dreamy tone as the doctor passed beyond his 
 vision ; " Arthur Craig, that is my name ! " In- 
 stinctively, he raised his eyes to that face to which 
 he had become accustomed to look for help in time 
 of perplexity and pain. It seemed to smile ap- 
 proval on his decision, and a great peace came 
 over his troubled soul. After gazing at it for 
 sometime, his eyelids drooped wearily and he was 
 soon fast asleep.
 
 CHAPTER Xlll 
 A PLEASANT HOUR 
 
 Winter wore slowly away. Spring came and 
 went. Still the doctor's patient had recovered 
 only so far as to be able to sit on the piazza in 
 a wheel-chair; and so far as the old doctor's word 
 went, it would be several months more ere he 
 would be strong enough to trust his weight on 
 crutches. Otherwise, the doctor was very san- 
 guine. There would be no permanent lameness 
 or deformity of any sort. So the doctor informed 
 the young man and all persons interested in him. 
 
 He had changed greatly in appearance. No 
 one who had seen the smooth, boyish face of six 
 months ago would recognize it now under the dark 
 Vandyke beard and mustache which had been cul- 
 tivated with care and no little show of pride. He 
 had lost weight ; and to the doctor, he seemed to 
 have grown taller by several inches. He was very 
 pale; which was not to be wondered at when one 
 thinks of his long confinement within doors, and 
 of the racking tortures he had endured. 
 
 The old doctor had grown very fond of him 
 during those trying months for he had been very 
 patient through it all, and had shown great forti- 
 tude in moments of intense suffering. And he in 
 204
 
 A PLEASANT HOUR 205 
 
 turn had learned to love and respect the eccentric 
 old man with a devotion wholly new to himself. 
 
 The doctor found him bright and witty and 
 very companionable. The winter seemed to be 
 sunnier and to pass more quickly because of his 
 presence. While he talked freely on many sub- 
 jects, on the whole, he was reticent as to him- 
 self and his past. He did, however, vouchsafe 
 this much: that he held a doctor's degree, though 
 he had never practiced. All questions by the doc- 
 tor relating to his family or to himself, after 
 that first conversation, were adroitly headed off 
 by the assertion: 
 
 " Arthur Craig has no family connections, no 
 past history; he has nothing but himself and the 
 future." 
 
 This answer pleased the old doctor immensely 
 and sent him off chuckling to himself in great 
 glee. 
 
 When his patient had so far recovered as to 
 find time dragging on his hands, the old doctor 
 insisted on his resuming his medical studies. The 
 old doctor was interested in several experiments 
 for the treatment of consumptives and he soon got 
 the young man absorbed in the work. After that 
 there was no dragging of time for the young doc- 
 tor, for he worked assiduously and soon proved 
 himself an adept in chemistry. One of the rooms 
 had been fitted up as a laboratory, and into this 
 room the young man was wheeled daily for a few 
 hours' experimental work.
 
 206 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 But it had not been all work and pain for the 
 young man during those days of convalescence. 
 Robert Cole had been a regular caller from the 
 first and had taken great interest in the stranger 
 within his gates. Scarcely a day passed that he 
 did not drop in to have a chat with him and to 
 bring him a book from his own library. Mrs. 
 Cole had also taken a fancy to him and made a 
 point of keeping him well supplied with choice 
 fruits and flowers from the Oakwood conservato- 
 ries, either carrying them herself or sending Bell 
 over with them. The villagers too, in various 
 ways, showed their admiration for the plucky fel- 
 low who had won out in his uneven fight with 
 death. 
 
 The only person who seemed to pass him over 
 was Bell Cole. She felt no interest in him one 
 way or another, and therefore showed none. 
 When her mother sent her over to the doctor's 
 with flowers for the invalid, she would simply hand 
 the basket to the doctor or Norah, the house- 
 keeper, with her mother's compliments, inquire 
 how Dr. Craig was getting along, and return 
 home with the message to her mother. 
 
 One afternoon in the latter part of June Dr. 
 Craig had been wheeled out into the sunshine as 
 usual. Only this time he had been wheeled out 
 to the front piazza instead of to the one in the 
 rear, which had heretofore been his sun-parlor, 
 as he put it. It was a welcome change, for it 
 opened up new vistas to his weary eyes.
 
 A PLEASANT HOUR 207 
 
 The doctor's grounds adjoined those of Oak- 
 wood on the west hardly two hundred yards above 
 the park gate. The park comprised a strip of 
 land densely wooded with magnificent oaks, which 
 extended from the highway northerly to the river. 
 In the rear of the grounds lay an encircling 
 stretch of meadows, through which the river 
 wound in placid stillness. Beyond these rose the 
 hills in the distance. The house itself stood on 
 the level with only a sntall plat of velvety lawn 
 intervening between it and the roadbed of the 
 highway. A neat iron fence ran the length of the 
 grounds in front. To the right the road stretched 
 away with a winding sweep until it was lost among 
 the foot-hills in the distance; while to the left, 
 it trailed down to the village square. In front 
 of the house, beyond the road, the ground shelved 
 gently downward to the valley. And then rose 
 the hills in all their towering strength and beauty. 
 
 It was a perfect day that brought Dr. Craig 
 out on the front piazza for the first time. The 
 perfumes of June were in every passing breeze 
 that swung down through the hill-gaps and over 
 the valley in lazy puffs that fitfully tousled the 
 mass of dark hair over the forehead of the invalid, 
 as he sat studying the lights and shadows of the 
 hills in the foreground. 
 
 So rapt was he in the contemplation of the 
 beauteous scenes before him that he did not hear 
 the light click of the garden gate, nor the fall 
 of footsteps coming up the walk. It was not till
 
 208 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 a shadow fell across his vision that he brought his 
 eyes back from the hills and focused them on a 
 young lady coming up the steps. Their eyes met 
 in a sort of mutual recognition ; but he waited for 
 her to speak. 
 
 It was Bell Cole who stood before him, bring- 
 ing her mother's regular donation of fruit and 
 flowers. He had heard of her through the doctor 
 and Norah. Even had he not heard of her, he 
 would have recognized her on account of her 
 strong resemblance to Robert. On her arm hung 
 a small fancy basket filled with luscious strawber- 
 ries, over which, resting loosely on her arm, lay 
 a large bunch of cut roses. She presented a 
 beautiful picture as she stood before him, look- 
 ing as fresh, in her pretty black and white muslin 
 dress and large Gainsborough hat, as the roses 
 that hung on her arms. 
 
 Bell Cole was not handsome. She was not even 
 pretty, as the term goes. But there was some- 
 thing in her figure and in the poise of her head 
 that counted for more than simple beauty, a cer- 
 tain stateliness which she carried well. She knew 
 how to dress to make the most of her face and 
 figure. 
 
 That day in her role of Lady Bountiful, she 
 looked uncommonly well ; and Dr. Craig almost 
 stared her out of countenance as she stood hesitat- 
 ing whether to speak to him or to pass him by 
 and ring the bell. She colored slightly under the 
 steady gaze ; and there is no telling what ridicu-
 
 A PLEASANT HOUR 209 
 
 lous thing she might have done, had not Dr. St. 
 John made his appearance and relieved the situa- 
 tion. 
 
 " Well, well, so here is my Lady Bountiful 
 again ! " he exclaimed, coming through the door 
 with outstretched hands to greet her. " What 
 should we do without you and your dear mother! 
 Let me relieve you of your burden," and taking 
 the roses from her arm, he buried his face deep 
 among the fragrant blossoms. " Norah ! " he 
 called; and while waiting for Norah to come he 
 rattled on like an elated schoolboy. " Now allow 
 me to present for your inspection my patient, Dr. 
 Craig; and I want you to tell me if I haven't 
 made a pretty good specimen of a man out of the 
 material I had to start with. Remember, he was 
 smashed almost to a jelly. And now look at him! 
 In three weeks more he will be able to ride out 
 among the hills ; and then we shall see the color 
 return to his cheeks." 
 
 Meanwhile Norah had come out and taken the 
 basket and roses, and the doctor had brought 
 forward two willow chairs. He now insisted on 
 Bell's sitting down and resting, and having some 
 refreshments with them after her long walk. 
 
 Bell had fully recovered from her momentary 
 embarrassment; and as she sank gracefully down 
 on the edge of the chair which the doctor had 
 pushed towards her, she said in a jovial way, 
 
 " Now, Doctor, if you will sit down and keep 
 still for just one minute and give Dr. Craig and
 
 me a chance to say * How-do ' to each other, I 
 may be in a position to answer some of your ques- 
 tions which you have been flinging at me for the 
 last five minutes." 
 
 The doctor dropped into his chair with a low 
 chuckle, saying playfully, 
 
 " Oh, these young folks, oh, these young folks, 
 they want to do all the talking themselves ! " 
 
 Dr. Craig laughed and cast an admiring glance 
 at Bell. 
 
 " Bravo ! Miss Cole ! " he cried gayly, " I 
 wouldn't have believed that any mortal could wield 
 such an influence over the doughty doctor as to 
 induce him to sit down so submissively ; hey 
 Norah? " And he appealed to Norah who had 
 brought out the tea tray and was arranging it 
 on a small table in front of Bell. 
 
 " Faith an* it's Miss Cole as knows all the kinks 
 in the docther's brain, an' can straighten them out 
 with one little twhist of her dainty red tongue," 
 and Norah cast a roguish glance at the doctor as 
 she switched past him into the house. 
 
 They all laughed at this, and the air was in- 
 stantly cleared of all stiffness and formality. Bell 
 settled herself to the delightful task of pouring 
 the tea. This was a pleasure she could seldom 
 refuse ; for she had beautiful hands and arms, and 
 she never showed them to better advantage than 
 when in the act of pouring tea. She drew off her 
 gloves, and pouring a cup of the fragrant tea, 
 handed it to the doctor.
 
 A PLEASANT HOUR 
 
 " I always give way to the sick," said the doc- 
 tor, waving her towards Dr. Craig. 
 
 " For once, my dear doctor, you must give way 
 to a woman," and she set the cup on the arm of 
 his chair. Then she proceeded to pour a cup for 
 Dr. Craig, chatting merrily the while, relating 
 delicious bits of village gossip as only she could. 
 
 Her lively chatter roused the loquacity of the 
 doctor, and the two kept up a fusillade of pleas- 
 antries, while Dr. Craig lay quietly back in his 
 chair and looked on and listened to the sparring 
 with no little amusement. 
 
 At last Bell pushed her chair back and rose to 
 
 g- 
 
 " Oh, surely not so soon ! " exclaimed both the 
 
 doctors in a breath. 
 
 " Not so soon ! " she repeated, arching her 
 brows in mock disapproval of their protest. 
 " Why, Dr. St. John, look at that clock ! I have 
 been here a full hour. Mother will surely think 
 something has happened to me." 
 
 " Tell her that I had you under observation 
 for a severe attack of tattlism and she will under- 
 stand your delay," he advised facetiously. 
 
 " You see how he resorts to professional lan- 
 guage to faze me, which isn't fair," she said in ac- 
 cusing tones, turning to Dr. Craig as if for vindi- 
 cation. Then changing suddenly, before he had 
 time to frame an answer, she said, " I suppose we 
 have bored you so much that you will rejoice at 
 my departure."
 
 212 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " The gods forbid that you should harbor such 
 a thought ! " he exclaimed earnestly. " It is quite 
 the contrary, I assure you. I have enjoyed your 
 call so much that I was about to plead the privi- 
 lege of an invalid to beg of you to repeat it very 
 soon." He held out his hand in a delicate, plead- 
 ing gesture, and raised his eyes to hers with a 
 look of infinite admiration. 
 
 She placed her hand in his without the least 
 hesitation. In fact, she could not have done other- 
 wise after their eyes met. Had she not been act- 
 ing under the lure of his charmed presence for 
 the last hour? Although he had spoken scarcely 
 a dozen words during all that time, his very near- 
 ness had sent the blood rushing through her veins ; 
 and now she felt herself powerless to resist the 
 fascination of his beseeching dark eyes. 
 
 As his fingers closed over hers a delicious thrill 
 shot through her whole being, such as she had 
 never felt before ; and she allowed him to retain 
 her hand while he exacted a promise that she would 
 come again on the morrow. 
 
 Bell turned away as soon as he released her 
 hand, and bidding Dr. St. John good-by, took her 
 departure. She walked briskly down the path 
 with her heart in a riot of strange emotions. 
 Passing through the gate to the highway, she 
 paused, ostensibly to pick a spray of brier-roses 
 that grew by the roadside. Her act, however, 
 was only a ruse that she might take one more 
 glance at the handsome stranger whose presence
 
 A PLEASANT HOUR 213 
 
 and touch had thrilled her so queerly. She 
 raised her eyes as she stooped to pluck the roses 
 and met the gaze of the invalid bent upon her 
 with a smile that illuminated his face. Again that 
 thrill, which she could not understand, swept 
 through her veins and quickened her heart throbs. 
 She lingered but an instant under the spell, yet 
 brief as it was, it seemed a lifetime to her. 
 
 She passed on, somewhat provoked with herself, 
 and tried to shake off the subtile influence of his 
 presence ; and as she walked slowly homeward, 
 took herself to task for staying so long. Never- 
 theless, the next day found her basking in the 
 smiles of the interesting invalid on the genial old 
 doctor's front piazza, pouring tea for three very 
 merry persons with all the guileless simplicity at 
 her command. 
 
 The days and weeks came and went and still 
 Bell Cole, on one pretext or another, kept up her 
 daily calls on Dr. St. John. Had it been hinted 
 to her that Doctor Craig was the attraction, she 
 would have resented the implication most stren- 
 ously ; and yet most of her time while at the 
 doctor's was devoted to his pleasure. 
 
 The summer wore on and at last the time came 
 when Dr. Craig was able to hobble about on 
 crutches. Then Mrs. Cole and Bell began to take 
 him out for long drives over the country roads. 
 After the drives there were always delightful little 
 dinners or luncheons awaiting them at Oakwood, 
 the mansion of the Coles.
 
 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 Being still in mourning, Mrs. Cole had not yet 
 begun to entertain formally, and it was only be- 
 cause of the close personal friendship which had 
 existed between the old doctor and her family, 
 and of the strong attachment which had grown 
 up between him and Robert, that she sanctioned 
 even this semblance of entertainment. Quiet as 
 these little affairs were, they tended to make the 
 time pass more quickly and pleasantly for Dr. 
 Craig, who, aside from these, led a very retired 
 life, devoting most of his time to his studies with 
 the old doctor. 
 
 Dr. St. John had given out a version of the 
 young man's history that appeared plausible ; and 
 as his word was considered as good as his bond, 
 the explanation was accepted and no further ques- 
 tions asked. Mrs. Cole felt justified in extend- 
 ing to this young stranger her hospitality. There 
 was no question as to his being a gentleman born 
 and bred. One had only to be in his company ten 
 minutes and hear him talk and see his manners 
 to be convinced on this point. But the word of 
 the old doctor set at rest all doubts, if ever there 
 had been any. 
 
 And these were the halcyon days for Bell. 
 Never had she appeared so happy and unre- 
 strained. Had Mrs. Cole but known it, it was 
 Bell who planned the dinners, the drives, the lunch- 
 eons, and all the delightful musicales which fol- 
 lowed ; but not for Dr. St. John, though the dear 
 old soul served his purpose well. And so time 
 wore on.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 RUTH MEETS DR. CRAIG 
 
 A little over a year had passed since Dr. Craig 
 was, literally speaking, pitched into the life of 
 Coleville. For the most part the year had been 
 uneventful for our friends. True, many changes 
 had been wrought in and about the village; 
 changes which helped to tone up the whole region 
 and to make a strong bid among the people for 
 higher ideals in living. 
 
 Dr. St. John with his wonderful tact had paved 
 the way for the carrying out of Robert's cherished 
 projects and reforms. So gradually had Robert 
 advanced his schemes that the people themselves 
 had fallen in with them and helped them along 
 with more ardor than he had ever hoped for even 
 in his most sanguine moments. 
 
 Many of the old houses had been torn down and 
 new ones erected in their places. All that were 
 worth saving had been remodeled in some form. 
 A bay-window had been added to this house, a 
 porch to that, and an ell to another, according to 
 the position of the house on the street and the 
 needs of the occupants. And to complete the ef- 
 fect of newness, every house stood resplendent in 
 
 215
 
 216 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 a spick-span coat of fresh paint, each of a differ- 
 ent color. This brought a welcome relief from 
 the dead gray sameness which had prevailed for 
 years and had become so tiresome to the eye, and 
 lent a restful variety to the village streets. 
 
 In addition to this, the back yards had been 
 cleaned of their ash-heaps and other rubbish, and 
 transformed into respectable looking gardens, 
 whose produce helped to solve some of the eco- 
 nomic questions of the household. And there 
 seemed to be quite a rivalry among the tenants as 
 to who should have the finest vegetables or flow- 
 ers ; for Dr. St. John had offered a prize on the 
 quiet ; and the result was magical. 
 
 All the tumble-down and dilapidated outbuild- 
 ings had been removed. Trees had been set out 
 along the streets ; new benches had been added 
 to the green, so that the men might have a breath- 
 ing place for their noon-hour rest; and a library 
 with a lecture hall was in course of erection. 
 
 In most of this work Robert had found a val- 
 uable assistant in Dr. Craig. His ideas and ad- 
 vice were sought at almost every point. It was 
 at his suggestion that the library was planned. 
 He had drawn the plans for it and the building 
 was now being carried through to completion un- 
 der his supervision. He was busy arranging the 
 catalogues when his work was suddenly suspended 
 by a call of a more serious nature. 
 
 Winter had set in earlier than usual that year 
 and proved to be one of the severest in many
 
 RUTH MEETS DR. CRAIG 217 
 
 decades. January came in with a snap and sent 
 everyone shivering into the chimney corners. The 
 snow lay in a dead cold glitter over hills and 
 valleys. The cutting north winds howled and 
 screeched through the ragged notches in the hills ; 
 and sweeping down, moaned dismally among the 
 cottages in the village. 
 
 An epidemic of la grippe, with its undermin- 
 ing effects, broke out in the village and swept 
 through like a scourge. This was followed by 
 a siege of whooping-cough, measles, scarlet fever, 
 and diphtheria among the children. Hardly a 
 home escaped. Dr. St. John was unable to cope 
 with the situation alone; so he pressed Dr. Craig 
 into his service as assistant and nurse. And a 
 most excellent one he proved himself to be. 
 
 Night after night found him at the bedside 
 of some sufferer or going from house to house 
 on emergency calls. Here and there he would re- 
 lieve a tired wife or mother while she took a much 
 needed rest. The mothers soon learned to trust 
 him and never hesitated to leave their loved ones 
 in his care. 
 
 One morning during the second week of his 
 watching, he learned that a certain young lady 
 by the name of Ruth Bent was doing for the peo- 
 ple by day what he was doing for them by night, 
 and even more. Into whatever house he went, 
 Ruth had been there before him and left either 
 a delicious custard, some fresh eggs, home-made 
 wine, pudding or jellies for the sick. He had
 
 218 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 never met her, had never even heard of her before. 
 This was not strange when we take into account 
 the narrowness of his circle of acquaintances. 
 But he heard enough of her now; for her praise 
 was sung early and late by both sick and well ; 
 so much so, that his curiosity was whetted to 
 keenness to meet her. Plan as he would, however, 
 she had always just gone when he arrived at the 
 house where he expected to find her. It was like 
 chasing a will-o'-the-wisp, and he began to doubt 
 her flesh and blood existence. Still, the more il- 
 lusive her presence became, the more interesting 
 she grew in his fancy. And thus weeks passed be- 
 fore the cravings of his curiosity were gratified. 
 
 When Mrs. Bent learned of the sickness in the 
 village, she immediately packed a basket with 
 delicacies and sent Milly to distribute them among 
 the sick and needy. Ruth had insisted on ac- 
 companying her; and it was while going from 
 house to house on this mission of mercy that her 
 sympathy was aroused in behalf of the worn-out, 
 half sick mothers, who were trying their best to 
 bear up under the severe strain. 
 
 When she returned home from that first round 
 of calls on the sick, Ruth coaxed her grandmother 
 into allowing her to go each day to help in the 
 care of the sick. Mrs. Bent gave her consent, 
 though reluctantly. Then Ruth presented her- 
 self to Dr. St. John, who was delighted with the 
 prospect of having another nurse at his command. 
 He planned her comings and goings for the day
 
 RUTH MEETS DR. CRAIG 219 
 
 with the same methodical exactness that he 
 planned Dr. Craig's for the night. There was no 
 design, however, on his part to prevent a meeting 
 between the two nurses. Why should there have 
 been when he knew nothing of the soaring fancies 
 of his young friend? 
 
 One morning about the middle of March, Dr. 
 Craig stepped into the library to see how the work 
 was progressing. Robert was in the corridor 
 when he entered, and came forward with out- 
 stretched hand. 
 
 " This is indeed a pleasure ! I take your com- 
 ing here at this time of day as a good omen. The 
 doctor informed me a week ago that the danger 
 line was past and not a single death recorded. 
 Bravo, my boy ! " 
 
 " Yes ; all are now well on the road to complete 
 recovery," replied Dr. Craig with a smile. 
 " Another week or so will finish my services as 
 nurse. Then I shall be at liberty to resume my 
 work on the cataloguing. I thought I would just 
 step in to see how near the building is to comple- 
 tion, so that I might judge how far behind I am 
 in my work." 
 
 " Don't give yourself any uneasiness on that 
 score. You must have a little rest before you 
 begin your work on the books again." Then plac- 
 ing his arm across Dr. Craig's shoulder, he con- 
 tinued with a show of deep feeling, " You can 
 never know how much I appreciate your services, 
 Arthur, nor how much they have meant to me dur-
 
 220 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 ing these past weeks. It seems a bit of irony on 
 the part of Fate to send this plague upon us after 
 my spending so many thousands of dollars on im- 
 provements and sanitation in the town. Nothing 
 like it has ever been known in this region before. 
 Of course, you know I have to take my medicine 
 at home. Bell could see no good to come from 
 these vast expenditures of money in the beginning; 
 she sees less now. She calls me a crank on sanita- 
 tion, and says that all this cleaning up has had 
 a bad effect on the health of the people." 
 
 They both laughed. 
 
 " Nevertheless, there is no telling where the 
 trouble would have ended if the cleaning up had 
 not been done. That there have been no deaths 
 is partly due to the present good condition of the 
 homes, and partly to the robust constitutions of 
 the people to begin with. There is only one per- 
 son now of whom we have any fears. He is that 
 queer little hunchback, Dick Stanton. We fear 
 hip disease has set in. I wish you would walk 
 over to the house with me and see him. I feel 
 sorry for him; for the Lord knows he has afflic- 
 tion enough without that." 
 
 They left the building together and walked 
 briskly down the road to the Stanton cottage. 
 On the way Dr. Craig gave Robert a detailed ac- 
 count of the case, which he had just finished when 
 they reached the door. 
 
 Dr. Craig rapped and waited for the well-known 
 " Come in " of Nell Stanton. It did not come. 

 
 RUTH MEETS DR. CRAIG 9,91 
 
 The door opened instead and Ruth Bent stood be- 
 fore him with her hand on the latch. 
 
 He gave a slight start and the faintest flush 
 mounted to his cheeks ; and for a moment he stood 
 speechless. He had been hoping for just such an 
 accidental meeting for weeks, and now it had 
 come, he felt abashed. Was it because of the 
 presence of Robert Cole? He could not tell. 
 
 Ruth did not see Robert, for he stood a little 
 to one side. Neither did Robert see her; but he 
 did see the start and the blush, and was at a loss 
 to account for them until Ruth spoke. Then a 
 pang of jealousy shot through his heart; but he 
 had no time to indulge in speculations. 
 
 " I suppose you have come to see Dick," she 
 half questioned, after waiting a moment for him 
 to speak. 
 
 " Yes," he answered, recovering his self-pos- 
 session. 
 
 " Then of course you will come in," she said 
 with a quizzical smile in her eyes, stepping aside 
 and opening the door a trifle wider for him to 
 enter. Then she saw Robert. Her heart gave 
 a great throb ; the smile died in her eyes ; but she 
 did not lose her presence of mind entirely. Their 
 eyes met. She thought she saw a shadow on his 
 face, and it pained her. Still it would never do 
 for him to know that she cared; so forcing a 
 smile, she bade him " Good morning " and stood 
 aside for him to enter. 
 
 Dr. Craig passed at once into the room where
 
 8 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 Dick lay propped up among the pillows, and beck- 
 oned Robert to follow. Reaching the threshold 
 of the sick-room, Robert stopped abruptly as he 
 met the eyes of the sick man fixed upon him with 
 a peculiar expression that almost unnerved him 
 for a second. Dick dropped his eyes quickly and 
 turned his attention to Dr. Craig. Robert in- 
 stantly recovered himself and entered the chamber. 
 
 After closing the outer door, Ruth walked over 
 to the window and stood looking out. She wanted 
 time to compose herself. It took but a moment; 
 then she turned to the bedroom door. 
 
 " Miss Stanton is lying down," she explained. 
 " Dick was very restless all night and she had to 
 be up with him most of the time. If you need 
 anything I can get it for you." 
 
 " Nothing at present," answered Dr. Craig, 
 looking up at her from where he sat at the bed- 
 side. " You may come in, if you wish, and see 
 that I do not hurt your patient." 
 
 She did not accept his permissive invitation, 
 however. She remained standing in the doorway 
 watching his every movement, for she had her 
 curiosity to gratify. She had heard as much 
 about this Dr. Craig as he had heard about her, 
 perhaps a trifle more; for his intimacy with the 
 Coles had kept the people guessing and their 
 tongues wagging for some time past. 
 
 While he examined Dick and conversed in un- 
 dertones with Robert, she studied him with increas- 
 ing interest; and as she caught the animated play
 
 RUTH MEETS DR. CRAIG 
 
 of his handsome features, she wondered just how 
 far he reciprocated Bell's ardent passion. That 
 Bell Cole was madly in love with this handsome, 
 stranger was well known. Bell herself made no 
 secret of it. In fact, she rather paraded it, 
 paraded it so much that her infatuation verged 
 on the ridiculous. 
 
 For the first time in her life a strange tempta- 
 tion came into Ruth's heart as she stood watch- 
 ing this man. A desire for revenge rushed over 
 her soul with almost overwhelming force; revenge 
 on Bell Cole for all the pain and humiliation which 
 she had been made to suffer for the last five years. 
 
 Here was her chance to strike back. Bell had 
 interfered between her and Robert, so Ruth 
 argued for the moment ; now, why should not she 
 make Bell feel some of the pangs of love's disap- 
 pointments by the winning of this man from her? 
 She would do it ! 
 
 Robert raised his eyes to her face at that mo- 
 ment. Did he read her thoughts? It seemed so 
 to her. And the love-yearning in his eyes sent 
 a blush of shame tingling through her veins. She 
 turned away sick at heart. 
 
 Dr. Craig finished his examinations and spoke 
 a few encouraging words to Dick, and rose to go. 
 
 Robert thrust a sum of money into Dick's hand 
 and told him not to worry about his work. 
 
 " Just keep a stiff upper lip, boy, and every- 
 thing will come out all right," said Robert cheerily 
 as he paused at the door to look back. Again
 
 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 that look in the eyes of Dick flashed up at him. 
 But no words passed the lips of the sick man; he 
 merely groaned and turned his face to the wall. 
 
 When Robert re-entered the kitchen, Ruth was 
 standing at the stove preparing a hot drink for 
 Dick. He approached her and held out his hand 
 to her. 
 
 " I must thank you, Miss Bent, for all your 
 kindness during these trying weeks," he said in 
 an unsteady voice, as she placed her hand in his 
 and his fingers closed over it. " Dr. St. John has 
 told me what a splendid help you have been to 
 him. I want you to tell Grandma, too, that I 
 appreciate her part in this good work more than 
 I can find words to express." 
 
 " I should like to add my thanks also," broke 
 in Dr. Craig, stepping forward. " It seems rather 
 singular that, while I have been following up Miss 
 Bent's work, I have never had the pleasure of 
 meeting her before." 
 
 Robert looked at him with undisguised surprise. 
 
 " Do you mean to say that you have not met 
 Miss Bent personally in all those weeks that you 
 have been working together, as it were? " 
 
 " Never ! " replied Dr. Craig emphatically. 
 
 " Then allow me the pleasure of introducing 
 you," said Robert with a laugh. " Miss Bent, 
 Dr. Craig." 
 
 He bowed his acknowledgment and expressed 
 his pleasure at meeting her, then gave a few di- 
 rections for her guidance in the care of her pa-
 
 RUTH MEETS DR. CRAIG 225 
 
 tient: and immediately after he and Robert took 
 their departure, leaving her with her heart in a 
 riot of conflicting emotions. 
 
 This was the first time that she and Robert 
 had met to exchange words since that memorable 
 day of his father's death. He had religiously 
 kept faith with her grandmother. It had been 
 a hard battle for him ; but he had fought it nobly 
 and had won his victory over his rebellious heart. 
 This did not mean that he had given up hope. 
 It meant only that he would wait patiently until 
 Grandma Bent should learn how she had wronged 
 him. Then she would relent and send for him. 
 He felt this in his soul. He would not harbor 
 the thought that her grudge against his father 
 would be carried over and vented on him and Ruth. 
 Meantime, he would work and prove to all that 
 he was not the weakling they supposed him to be. 
 
 It was after making this resolve that he had 
 appeared before Mark Gibson in a neat business 
 suit, shorn of all dandified airs and furbelows and 
 settled down to real work. In less than a year 
 he had mastered the most intricate details of the 
 massive concern and had shown to the business 
 world that there was nothing to fear from him. 
 He could carry his own. 
 
 Aside from his extravagance in beautifying 
 Coleville, his mother and Bell had no fault to find 
 with his management of their interests. Indeed, 
 they admitted that they had much to be proud of 
 him for. As Bell once expressed herself to Dr.
 
 226 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 Craig when he made a remark about Robert's 
 wonderful business insights: 
 
 " Yes, Robert carries a pretty stiff neck at 
 times ; but there's a mighty level head at the upper 
 end of it." 
 
 Ruth had also abided by her resolution and had 
 suffered in silence. Though there were times 
 when she wondered whether she had done right 
 in sacrificing her love without a protest and with- 
 out giving Robert a chance to say a word in his 
 own defense, she never complained. It would 
 hurt Grandma's feelings to do so ; and after all, 
 Grandma knew what was best. Besides, there was 
 the mystery of the murder still hanging over her 
 house like a shadow. So the days and the weeks 
 and the months had passed on, and the years were 
 creeping on apace, with no illuminating ray of 
 hope for the future. 
 
 Ruth's father had married again ; and Ruth 
 had divided her time about equally between her 
 two homes, as she playfully called them, during 
 the past year. This made it easier for her to 
 avoid meeting Robert or any of her old friends. 
 When at home, she seldom went to church or 
 mingled in any way in the life of the community. 
 
 Mrs. Gray had called on her grandmother once 
 while she was at home the previous summer, and 
 had incidentally mentioned in her conversation 
 that Miss Crosby was travelling in Europe; that 
 a great sorrow had come into her life which had 
 greatly impaired her health, and had even threat-
 
 RUTH MEETS DR. CRAIG 227 
 
 ened her reason for a time ; that her Uncle Crosby 
 had taken her on a trip in quest of forgetfulness 
 in a change of scene. What the great sorrow 
 was, Ruth was left to conjecture. Later Ruth 
 had asked Bell about it; but that astute young 
 lady only shrugged her shoulders and equivo- 
 cated. 
 
 " I know nothing of any sorrow. So far as 
 my information goes, she is in Europe purchasing 
 her trousseau, which I understand is to be mag- 
 nificent." 
 
 Here the matter had ended, for Ruth would ask 
 no more questions ; and from that time to the 
 present she had heard nothing regarding Miss 
 Crosby or her approaching wedding. Of one 
 thing she was positive: namely, that Miss Crosby 
 had not visited Coleville since Mr. Cole's death. 
 
 After Robert and Dr. Craig left the house that 
 morning, many strange thoughts went trooping 
 through Ruth's excited brain. She caught her- 
 self constantly mixing her ideas and giving out 
 wrong impressions to Dick till he, taking pity on 
 her, said kindly, 
 
 " Miss Ruth, you are tired. You have been 
 working too hard lately. When Nell gets up you 
 ought to go home and rest for a few days. I 
 heard Dr. St. John say the other day that you 
 must give up pretty soon or you would be down 
 sick yourself." 
 
 She laughed a little hysterical laugh and said 
 lightly,
 
 228 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " Don't worry about me, Dick, I shall have all 
 summer to rest." 
 
 An hour later Dr. Craig again made his ap- 
 pearance at the cottage. This time he was alone. 
 Nell Stanton had risen ; and Ruth was putting on 
 her wraps to leave when he entered the kitchen. 
 
 " I have brought this medicine for Dick," he 
 said with a professional air, unwrapping a small 
 vial which he held in his hand. 
 
 He bowed to Ruth ; and after explaining to 
 Nell how the medicine was to be given, he asked 
 Ruth if she were going directly home. 
 
 Ruth answered in the affirmative. 
 
 " I am going your way and should be pleased 
 to drive you home," he said with a bow, while 
 smoothing his fur-topped gauntlets over his 
 wrists. " The sleighing is glorious this morning, 
 and Dod is in fine trim for a run." 
 
 The temptation came in her moment of weak- 
 ness. She accepted ; and they passed out of the 
 house together.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 RUTH'S CONQUEST 
 
 " I wonder what the end will be ! " Doctor 
 Craig looked sadly into the sweet, girlish face be- 
 fore him as he uttered the words. They fell from 
 his lips almost unconsciously ; and there was a 
 melancholy cadence in them which caused the long 
 drooping lashes of Ruth Bent to spring upward 
 and reveal two large, round, roguish eyes. 
 
 " The end of what? " she asked innocently, 
 pausing in her task to look into his face. Her lap 
 was full of mountain laurel, and a brimming bas- 
 ket of the same stood near by. For three whole 
 hours she had been busily engaged in weaving the 
 glossy leaves into strands of various lengths suit- 
 able for festoons. " If you mean this," she con- 
 tinued before he had time to frame an answer to 
 her question, at the same time holding up a long 
 string of the green, " I can assure you the end 
 will be like the beginning, leaves leaves noth- 
 ing but leaves ! " 
 
 He started and looked at her sharply. There 
 was an ominous ring in her voice ; yet her manner 
 
 betrayed a touch of coquetry as she gave the 
 
 229
 
 230 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 strand a gentle twirl, settled back against the tree, 
 and again took up her work. 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so," he stammered, speaking 
 more to himself than to her. " I might have 
 known it were I not such a blinded idiot ! " 
 
 " Known what ? " Again the lashes were raised 
 and the wondering round eyes looked the interro- 
 gation; but the nimble fingers did not relax their 
 industrious motion. 
 
 " That it would end in leaves leaves noth- 
 ing but leaves ! " And with his slender driving- 
 whip he switched off the big yellow heads of an 
 inoffensive stalk of goldenrod that nodded at his 
 feet. 
 
 " What should it end in ? " she asked absently, 
 dropping the rope into her lap and proceeding to 
 cut clusters of the glossy green leaves from the 
 branches piled at her side and to arrange them 
 into working order. This time the eyes remained 
 veiled under the brown silken lashes. The snip, 
 snip, snip of the scissors, the fluttering of the 
 leaves down into her lap, and the glitter of steel 
 in the sunlight as the blades came together, re- 
 minded him somewhat of Fate in her relentless 
 clipping of the threads of life. 
 
 " True, what should it end in but leaves ? Only 
 your words struck me as prophetic." He laughed 
 a low, bitter laugh, which grated unpleasantly on 
 her ears. Up flew the brown lashes. The laugh 
 died on his lips ; his tone changed to one of resig- 
 nation, and he went on : " And yet I ought to
 
 RUTH'S CONQUEST 231 
 
 expect nothing better ; I deserve nothing better ! " 
 
 She looked at him gravely and gave her head a 
 reproving little shake. 
 
 " Doctor," she said, laying aside her scissors 
 and taking up the rope of green, " you seem out 
 of sorts this morning. You are not like your 
 usual self. I hope that change of medicine which 
 you prescribed for Dick Stanton last week didn't 
 work any material harm on him." 
 
 " Quite the contrary ! it worked like a charm ! " 
 he replied, catching at her latter suggestion and 
 ignoring the former. " Dick is very much im- 
 proved this week. If he would only take care of 
 himself, he would be all right. But Dick is such 
 a budget of opposites that one can never predict 
 what to expect next." 
 
 " Poor Dick ! " she said sympathetically, resum- 
 ing her work. " He has suffered so much ! Do 
 you know, Doctor, I believe the Fates sent you to 
 this little out-of-the-way place to minister to Dick 
 Stanton. His sister told me only the other day 
 that you could handle him when nobody else 
 could." 
 
 " Indeed ! " The word spoke volumes and the 
 accompanying elevation of his brows spoke vol- 
 umes more, though both were lost on the impetuous 
 girl as she rattled on. 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! You have done so much for him. 
 Only think. First you carried him through the 
 grippe; then you headed off that dreadful hip 
 disease; and last, you brought him through that
 
 232 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 siege of typhus. I tell you, Doctor, your repu- 
 tation has gone up seventeen and a half notches 
 in the last three months. The only thing we are 
 afraid of is that your usefulness will outgrow the 
 village, and in consequence, you will hike yourself 
 off to new and larger fields of opportunities. And 
 only think what a calamity that would be for the 
 village, and for Dick, and for dear old Dr. St. 
 John! Think of it! What would the dear old 
 doctor do without you? " 
 
 " But I haven't gone yet ; I am not even think- 
 ing of going," he assured her with a laugh. 
 
 " No, to be sure not ; but then there is always 
 the possibility. But in case you should go, what 
 would the dear old doctor do? " She dropped her 
 hands with their wealth of green into her lap and 
 looked appealingly into his face. 
 
 The ghost of a smile played round his lips as 
 he met her gaze of distress. 
 
 " You talk as if the obligation were all on the 
 side of the doctor ; when the fact is, that I have 
 received more benefits from dear, patient Dr. St. 
 John than he has ever received, or ever can receive, 
 from me. Besides, it is Dr. St. John who should 
 be given the credit for Dick's marvelous recoveries, 
 and not I. He was the physician, I only the 
 nurse, or at best, his assistant." 
 
 " I don't agree with you," she replied warmly. 
 
 " It is true, nevertheless," he said decidedly. 
 " Dr. St. John is a marvel ! " 
 
 " You are too modest, Doctor, and generous to
 
 RUTH'S CONQUEST 233 
 
 a fault. But you see I happen to know all about 
 it. Dr. St. John told me about your splendid 
 laboratory work. You have been such a help to 
 him, I believe he would pine away and die should 
 you leave him." She gathered up a bunch of 
 leaves as she spoke and adjusted the leafy nosegay 
 in her corsage. It was a trifling act; but it be- 
 trayed the feminine love for the artistic. He 
 smiled his approval. 
 
 " But you do not know what the doctor has 
 done for me." 
 
 " No, at least not all." 
 
 " Then how can you judge, not having heard 
 both sides? As for Dick Stanton, there are times 
 when I almost wish his life had not been saved," 
 he said almost sadly. 
 
 " Why ? " and a look of amazement flashed 
 from her eyes. 
 
 " Chiefly because of his physical infirmities he 
 is handicapped in his battle of life. He seems 
 to realize it more than ever since his recent illness ; 
 and the realization makes him ugly. He is assum- 
 ing that devil-may-care spirit which is the fore- 
 runner of mischief. But there, we don't want to 
 talk about him any more," he said, breaking off 
 with a touch of impatience; and picking up the 
 scissors, he began clipping off the leaves as he had 
 seen her do. 
 
 " There, it's about time you took the hint and 
 set to work ! " she exclaimed gayly, switching off 
 abruptly from the topic under discussion and pur-
 
 234 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 suing a bantering tone. " Here you have been 
 hindering me for the last half hour. Now I shall 
 expect you to hustle and help make up for lost 
 time. Bell is coming up after dinner to measure 
 these strands; and I must have ten yards ready 
 when she comes, else there's a forfeit to pay." 
 
 " Why didn't you tell me that sooner? " he 
 asked, dropping on his knees beside her. " I dis- 
 like to think of my being a hindrance to my 
 friends," he went on, clipping vigorously all the 
 time ; " especially when there's a forfeit attached 
 to the results." 
 
 " Be careful, Doctor, you are cutting those 
 stems too short ! " she cried in tones of warning, 
 laying her soft, stained hand impulsively on his 
 wrist to check his reckless waste of material. 
 
 The scissors and the branch fell from his fin- 
 gers ; his hand was instantly clapped on hers where 
 it rested on his wrist, and there it held hers as in 
 a vice. 
 
 " Ruth Bent, you're a tyrant ! " he exclaimed 
 with an exultant laugh, bending towards her. 
 
 Their eyes met, and Ruth read in his passion- 
 ate gaze the story he no longer meant to conceal. 
 The discovery startled her. She trembled vio- 
 lently; and her cheeks crimsoned perceptibly 
 under the magnetic gleam that lurked in his love- 
 lit eyes. She lost all power of speech, of motion ; 
 and could only gaze at him in wide-eyed wonder- 
 ment, fascinated by the marvelous light of his 
 eyes. His face drew nearer, so near she could feel
 
 RUTH'S CONQUEST 235 
 
 his warm breath on her cheeks ; and she heard him 
 repeat as in a dream: 
 
 " Ruth Bent, you're a tyrant ! but I love you 
 to distraction! I am trying so hard to be worthy 
 of you ; and God helping me, I will succeed ! I 
 would not have spoken so soon, Ruth, but you are 
 so tantalizing. Half the time I do not understand 
 you ; and the thought of losing you makes me 
 desperate ! I ask of you no pledge, no plight, for 
 I feel that I have no right to bind you as yet. I 
 only ask that you will give me one word of en- 
 couragement, just one word, to treasure in my 
 heart. It would help me so much in my struggle, 
 and make it easier to bear the monotony of this 
 humdrum existence. Only bid me hope, and I will 
 be satisfied to wait your pleasure ! " 
 
 His voice was low and tremulous with emotion, 
 the very intensity of which frightened her. She 
 listened in silence. She could not have spoken 
 had she tried. He misinterpreted the mute, pain- 
 ful appeal in her eyes. He bent forward and 
 pressed her lips in one rapturous kiss. The touch 
 of his lips brought the warm blood surging to her 
 neck, her cheeks, and up to the very roots of her 
 hair. 
 
 " Down, Carlo ! you naughty dog ! " came in a 
 half scolding voice from somewhere behind the tree, 
 against whose massive trunk Ruth had braced her- 
 self when she commenced her work, earlier in the 
 day. 
 
 Almost simultaneously with the command, a
 
 236 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 large mastiff bounded from the direction whence 
 the voice issued, and pushing himself between 
 Ruth and Dr. Craig, planted his great, clumsy 
 paws in Ruth's lap, regardless of the havoc he 
 wrought among the laurel. In his eagerness to 
 show his delight at finding his mistress, the dog 
 had upset the doctor and sent him sprawling on 
 the lawn, just as Bell Cole made her appearance. 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha ! " laughed Bell, " you see, Doctor, 
 Carlo brooks no interference with his rights ! " 
 
 Though the laugh was merry and the words 
 were spoken in a jesting tone, there was a shade of 
 malicious triumph in them which was not lost on 
 either of her listeners. 
 
 As Bell stepped into view from behind the tree, 
 she let her hat, a large, fluffy creation, slip co- 
 quettishly back from her face, and held it dangling 
 on the nape of her neck by the long ribbon stream- 
 ers. She made rather a pretty picture, standing 
 there in the semi-shadows, where the warm Sep- 
 tember sunlight, filtering through the wide spread- 
 ing branches of the oak, played in fitful gleams 
 among her dark, glossy tresses. But the effect 
 was lost on the guilty one for whose benefit she 
 had posed. 
 
 The doctor quickly regained his footing, and 
 stood with bent head, brushing the dry leaves and 
 dust off his clothes. 
 
 " I wouldn't mind his asserting his rights, Miss 
 Cole, if he would do it in a less aggressive man-
 
 RUTH'S CONQUEST 237 
 
 ner," said the doctor, hiding his confusion behind 
 a pretense of displeasure at Carlo's friendly office. 
 To tell the truth, he could have hugged Carlo for 
 his timely arrival on the scene. For of all per- 
 sons, Bell Cole was the last one he would wish to 
 know of his real feelings for Ruth Bent. He felt 
 sure that she had seen nothing, whatever she might 
 surmise ; so he quickly regained his jocose manner 
 and treated the affair as a huge joke, and laughed 
 heartily at Carlo's wrestling tendencies. 
 
 As for Ruth, when Carlo thrust his cold nose 
 against her chin, she threw both arms around his 
 neck and laid her flushed cheek against his friendly 
 face. She hugged and caressed him in an ecstasy 
 of wild delight. At last, when the tumult of her 
 heart had subsided sufficiently to allow her to 
 speak with a steady voice, she peered over the 
 shaggy body of the dog and said: 
 
 " Why, Bell, this is a delightful surprise. I 
 did not expect you till after dinner. But I'm 
 awfully glad you've come ! Sit right down and go 
 to work ; for everybody who comes near me before 
 dinner to-day must work. Even the doctor has 
 had to work; and I think he can cut fast enough 
 to keep us both busy on the ropes. Now, Carlo, 
 go and lie down ! " And she pushed the dog away. 
 His tail ceased to wag as he turned with a crest- 
 fallen air, and stretched himself upon the grass 
 close by. 
 
 The doctor took the hint, and picking up the
 
 238 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 scissors and the branch which he had dropped so 
 ingeniously a short time before, he resumed his 
 clipping. 
 
 " But I haven't come to work, dear ; you know 
 my work begins at two this afternoon," said Bell 
 with irritating sweetness, eying the doctor from 
 beneath her half-closed lids. 
 
 " O Bell," chided Ruth, puckering her pretty 
 mouth into a pout, " and you know that dreadful 
 forfeit is hanging over my head. I never appre- 
 ciated the feelings of Damocles so fully as I do 
 this moment. Do help me, Bell ! " she pleaded. 
 
 A peal of silvery laughter rippled from between 
 the parted lips of the tantalizing girl. 
 
 " From all appearances one might judge that it 
 would afford you more pleasure to lose than to 
 win," she replied significantly. " And really, 
 Ruth, I think the forfeit is due already. If I 
 remember rightly, you were to receive no help 
 from anyone in making those ropes ; and here you 
 have pressed Doctor Craig into your service. 
 You surely do not expect me to acquiesce in such 
 deception?" There was an insinuation in her 
 words, and the covert sting found its mark in the 
 truthful soul of Ruth, and caused the color to 
 deepen in her cheeks. 
 
 " Why, Bell," she exclaimed in tones of mild 
 surprise, " I did not understand it so ! I thought 
 I was to have ten yards of rope ready for the 
 decorators by two o'clock, or pay a forfeit. I
 
 RUTH'S CONQUEST 239 
 
 knew nothing about any restrictions on my receiv- 
 ing help." 
 
 " Perhaps there were no express restrictions ; 
 but you were to make the rope. Now in the name 
 of Caesar's ghost! what does that mean? Why, 
 simply that you must do it yourself or lose. That 
 is classroom ethics, you know, if my memory 
 serves me correctly." She looked down into the 
 flushed face before her with an air of superiority 
 quite in keeping with her tone. Her manner was 
 extremely exasperating, too, and had the desired 
 effect. 
 
 " Doctor Craig, drop those scissors and pick up 
 every leaf that you have cut and pitch it over the 
 bank there! Then you may take Bell for a walk. 
 I must be alone if I am to finish these pesky ropes 
 by two o'clock." She spoke with the air of one 
 who expected to be obeyed, while her fingers flew 
 industriously in and out among the green leaves. 
 
 The doctor dropped the scissors as he was bid- 
 den, and with a few dashes of his straw hat scat- 
 tered the leaves which he had cut to the winds. 
 
 Not a word was spoken by either girl while the 
 doctor carried out the order. One sat and worked 
 incessantly ; the other stood and looked on with a 
 malicious smile. 
 
 " There," said the doctor when he had finished, 
 " I have obeyed your first command to the letter : 
 as to the second, I must beg to be excused. Pro- 
 fessional duties demand my immediate attention at
 
 240 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 home, so I will bid you both good morning ! " 
 And with a sweeping bow, he turned away. 
 
 " Doctor! " called Bell. He was not to get off 
 so easily. 
 
 He wheeled about and faced her. 
 
 " I am going home ; do you mind having com- 
 pany? I wish to talk to you about the decora- 
 tions; I can do so on the way down and thus save 
 your time as well as my own." 
 
 " Not at all ! " he answered politely, though a 
 shade of disappointment flitted across his face. 
 
 " Good-by, Ruth, I shall return at two and ex- 
 pect to find you in a more amiable mood," said 
 Bell as she swept after the doctor with a flutter of 
 her red and white muslin, which expressed her real 
 feelings plainer than any words could have done. 
 
 " Good-by ! " called Ruth without looking up. 
 Then she took up her scissors and began to clip 
 desperately, while her head drooped over her work, 
 as though she had quite forgotten their very ex- 
 istence. 
 
 Chatting and laughing, and with an occasional 
 backward wave of her hand, Bell wended her way 
 down the grassy slope by the side of her captive 
 for such the doctor felt himself to be. He was 
 in anything but an amiable temper when he 
 reached the road where he had left his horse and 
 buggy when he had caught sight of Ruth under 
 the oak, to run up and speak to her. Reaching 
 the gate, the doctor opened it and waited for Bell 
 to pass through. While the doctor closed and
 
 RUTH'S CONQUEST 241 
 
 fastened the gate, Bell stooped and gathered a 
 bunch of purple asters and when he turned she 
 faced him and adjusted the flowers in the button- 
 hole of his coat. Ruth could not hear what was 
 said; but the peal of gay laughter which floated 
 up to her ears had a ring of mockery in it. Bell 
 sprang into the buggy; the doctor gathered up 
 the reins and stepped in after her; and together 
 they drove off towards the village. 
 
 Ruth watched them under the covert of her long 
 lashes until they disappeared behind the bend in 
 the road. Then she dropped her work, buried her 
 face in her hands and burst into tears. 
 
 Ruth's tears were those of anger, sorrow, and 
 humiliation. She was angry at Bell, sorry for the 
 doctor, and deeply humiliated in her own estima- 
 tion. She had accepted the attentions of Arthur 
 Craig in a moment of sore temptation, and had led 
 him on in a spirit of coquetry simply to tease Bell 
 and to rouse her jealousy. She had given no 
 thought as to what the consequences might be on 
 the doctor himself. 
 
 Ruth knew she had gained her object so far as 
 Bell was concerned. She had played her cards 
 well, and up to the present hour had derived a sort 
 of wicked pleasure from her conquest. With 
 fiendish delight she had watched Bell's growing 
 annoyance as Dr. Craig spent more and more of 
 his time in the hospitable shade of Grandma Bent's 
 spacious veranda. It amused Ruth immensely to 
 see Bell bolt her pride in seeking a reconciliation
 
 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 with her grandmother, in order that she might 
 resume her former relations in the household. 
 
 It had not been very difficult for Bell to attain 
 this point; for Mrs. Bent was one of the dearest 
 and most forgiving souls to be found in a day's 
 journey. She had been very fond of Bell in the 
 old days; and when Bell came to her in a humble 
 and subdued spirit, she was only too glad to take 
 her back into her good graces. But Grandma Bent 
 was not long in divining Bell's sudden change of 
 front. When she saw the list of the wind, she 
 said nothing; she merely sat back serenely and 
 watched developments. 
 
 Bell soon had the run of the house as of old. 
 She would drop in on the family at all sorts of 
 unreasonable hours. If the doctor was there when 
 she came well and good; if not, she would remain 
 on one pretext or another until he icame. In 
 either case, she never thought of going till he was 
 ready to go; and, forsooth, he must see her home 
 as a matter of common courtesy. 
 
 Ruth rather enjoyed all this by-play. She felt 
 no pity for the unhappy girl not even when she 
 saw a shadow of pain flash across her face when 
 the doctor would show an exceptional bit of gal- 
 lantry towards herself. For the most part Bell 
 masked her feelings behind a battery of wit or 
 sarcasm. But there were moments when she could 
 not conceal her pain, chagrin, and disappointment. 
 At such times Ruth took special delight in tor- 
 menting her rival by monopolizing the doctor's
 
 RUTH'S CONQUEST 243 
 
 attention to the total eclipse of poor, unhappy 
 Bell. 
 
 But here was a state of affairs she had never 
 even thought of; and she despised herself utterly 
 for the part she had played in leading the doctor 
 so far into a hopeless passion. His declaration of 
 love had brought her to her senses ; and it was her 
 turn now to wonder " what the end would be." 
 
 " Foah shame, Miss Rufe, crying on youah 
 bufday ! " chided the voice of Milly at her elbow. 
 
 Ruth started, and looking up through her tears, 
 met the pitying gaze of the old servant fixed upon 
 her. 
 
 " O Milly, I couldn't help it ! " explained Ruth, 
 wiping her eyes and gulping down her grief. 
 
 "Whar's dat nettle?" asked Milly, looking 
 round while a frown gathered on her black face. 
 
 " That nettle ? What nettle ? " asked Ruth, fol- 
 lowing Milly's sweeping glance down the slope to 
 the road. 
 
 " Why, Miss Bell, o' cou'se ! She cumed down 
 heah some time ago. Ah circumspect dat she's 
 been saying somefing dat's nettled you. But yo' 
 don want to take no notice o' Bell Cole, 'cause 
 she haint wuff it. She may fink she owns de vil- 
 lage ; but she done own dis year place no how ! 
 Whar's she gwan ? " 
 
 " She is on her way home, I suppose." 
 
 " Did she go alone ? " quizzed Milly, looking 
 straight into Ruth's face. 
 
 " No ; Doctor Craig was here ; he is driving her
 
 244 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 home as usual," replied Ruth, rising and shaking 
 the withered leaves from her skirts. 
 
 " But he don' belong to huh ! " snapped Milly, 
 her eyes flashing with indignation. 
 
 " Well, who does he belong to? " asked Ruth in 
 surprise, blushing deeply at the mere suggestion 
 contained in Milly's words. 
 
 " Ah don' know 'zactly, Miss Rufe, but it 'pears 
 to me he oughter belong to someone a little nearer 
 home." And she gave Ruth a sly glance. 
 
 " No ! no ! Milly ; get that idea out of your head ! 
 If he belongs to anybody in particular, he belongs 
 to Bell Cole. And she is welcome to him, so far 
 as I am concerned." 
 
 She spoke rapidly, like one who had made a sud- 
 den resolve. At the same time she gathered up 
 the strands of green which lay scattered about and 
 began to measure them in a nervous sort of way. 
 Milly saw that enough had been said, so she began 
 silently to help measure the strands. Ruth was 
 delighted to find that she had three inches over 
 the stipulated ten yards. While Milly picked up 
 the loose branches and bunched them together for 
 convenient handling, Ruth coiled the ropes neatly 
 in the basket. This done, they took up the basket 
 between them and carried it up to the house, where 
 they left it on the veranda in readiness for Bell 
 when she should call at two. 
 
 Bell, however, did not call at two ; instead, she 
 sent the coachman for the ropes.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 THE HARVEST FESTIVAL 
 
 September had rushed into her fourth week with 
 a crisp and jaunty air. It was Friday afternoon. 
 The Rev. Mr. Hall stood in front of his study 
 window in a meditative mood. From the yellow- 
 ing maples in front of the parsonage he was draw- 
 ing his never-ending lessons of life. They 
 reminded him of the fleetness of time and of the 
 transitory nature of all things earthly. 
 
 He had returned from his summer vacation very 
 much refreshed in body and mind, and very much 
 alive to the necessity of getting down to business; 
 for he saw before him the accumulated work of 
 those four joyous, idle weeks. There were piles 
 of letters to be answered ; sick calls to be made ; 
 and withal, general plans for his winter's cam- 
 paign to be mapped out. All of which he had set 
 about doing. And for the last four weeks he had 
 been the busiest man in town. 
 
 Work is the elixir of life was one of his fondly 
 quoted maxims ; and he lived up to the letter of it 
 as well as to the spirit ; for he gave himself no rest 
 while anything remained to be done. It was, 
 
 therefore, significant to see him standing idly be- 
 
 945
 
 246 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 fore his study window, near the close of the after- 
 noon of this fourth Friday in September. He 
 stood with his tall figure drawn up to its full 
 height, his hands clasped behind him, and a com- 
 placent smile playing round the corners of his 
 dark-blue eyes. His gaze glanced from the ma- 
 ples to the hills and traced their ragged edges, 
 penciled in delicate purples against the crimson of 
 the western sky. His whole bearing reflected his 
 retrospective mood. For he was mentally revolv- 
 ing all he had accomplished in the way of giving 
 an impetus to the parish work during the last four 
 weeks. And it was evident the results were pleas- 
 ing to contemplate. 
 
 One of his first diplomatic moves was to call 
 the younger element of the parish together and 
 enlist them into his service. He had suggested to 
 them the getting up of a harvest supper and en- 
 tertainment as a means of drawing the people out 
 socially, a suggestion which had been taken up and 
 pushed along with marvellous rapidity. For the 
 tables were already set in the vestry and waiting 
 only the arrival of the hour and the guests. 
 
 In the west the crimson had dissolved into gold, 
 and the gold in turn had begun to run into the 
 soft hues of the rainbow; yet his thoughts still 
 rambled on over the achievements of the past. 
 His face mellowed under the changing glory of 
 the sunlit sky; and something of that humbleness 
 of spirit which acknowledges the frailty of human 
 plans and purposes in sight of the wondrous ere-
 
 THE HARVEST FESTIVAL 247 
 
 ative power behind that dissolving view crept into 
 his heart. 
 
 A rumble of wheels brought his eyes down from 
 the heights to the road winding past his door, 
 where the sight of Bell Cole and Dr. Craig, sit- 
 ting tete-a-tete in Bell's little yellow dogcart, 
 turned his thoughts into new channels. The smile 
 of beneficence which had illuminated his face a mo- 
 ment before gave place to a frown of perplexity 
 as the cart drove by and on towards the church. 
 
 Bell sat erect as a queen, with her chin tilted a 
 trifle high in the air ; and while holding the ribbons 
 with the practiced hand of a horsewoman, she 
 chatted familiarly with her companion. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Hall waited until Bell had reined 
 in her horse at the vestry door, when, with an im- 
 patient shrug of his square shoulders, he turned 
 away from the window and prepared to leave the 
 house. Presently he emerged from the side door 
 and wended his way across the little graveyard to 
 the church, with a very somber air. Somehow, the 
 sight of Bell and the doctor had disturbed the 
 serenity of his mind. 
 
 The rumors of the countryside had reached his 
 ears ; yet, up to the present time he had put them 
 aside as idle and pernicious. But in those few 
 moments the truth that there was at least grounds 
 for the gossip was forced upon him with disquiet- 
 ing effect. He had never taken over kindly to 
 Dr. St. John's protege. Being himself frank and 
 open, he resented jj e secretive air maintained by
 
 S48 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 the old doctor in regard to the young man's ante- 
 cedents; and he distrusted Dr. Craig himself be- 
 cause of the mystery that still clung to his past. 
 It was natural, therefore, that he should look with 
 disfavor on the stranger's attention to Bell, and 
 to feel constrained to take some measures to pre- 
 vent a mesalliance, now that the danger had be- 
 come apparent to his hitherto blinded faculties. 
 It was with the intention of appealing to the old 
 doctor's sense of propriety that he left his home 
 so early; but ere he had reached the vestry door, 
 discretion had gained the ascendancy, and he de- 
 cided to speak to Robert instead. 
 
 Bell had charge of the entertainment and had 
 entered heartily into her work, because, so gossip 
 had the temerity to say, she could have Dr. Craig 
 at her beck and call. Be that as it may, her com- 
 mittee had met and formulated plans, or rather be 
 it said, Bell herself had formulated the plans and 
 had called her committee together simply to en- 
 dorse them. Accordingly, it was agreed that 
 every person on the committee should have a spe- 
 cific task to do, and that anyone failing to per- 
 form her part on schedule time should pay a 
 forfeit. 
 
 Almost at the last moment, only the night be- 
 fore the entertainment, Bell had sent the following 
 note to Ruth: 
 
 Dear Ruth: 
 
 Ten yards of laurel roping is needed to finish the
 
 THE HARVEST FESTIVAL 249 
 
 decorations. I shall expect you to make the roping 
 and to have it ready for me by two o'clock to-morrow, 
 when I shall call for it. Remember, not an inch 
 less than ten yards. If it is not ready by two, lo! 
 that forfeit. 
 
 BELL. 
 
 The laurel had to be gathered and Ruth won- 
 dered how she could accomplish her task in so 
 short a time. She accepted Bell's fiat, however, 
 but with a desperate determination not to pay the 
 threatened forfeit. She had a premonition that 
 Bell would think up something ridiculous for her 
 to do, if she failed ; therefore, failure was out of 
 the question. Bell Cole should never have the 
 power to make a laughing-stock of her, so she 
 vowed. 
 
 She knew where the laurel grew in abundance 
 on the hillsides ; and feeling reasonably sure of 
 getting all she needed in a couple of hours, she 
 went to bed and slept soundly till the crowing of 
 the first cock in the morning. 
 
 She rose in the gray of the dawn, and dressing 
 herself hastily she repaired to the kitchen where 
 Milly and Joe were already in waiting. After 
 partaking of a cup of hot coffee and a slice of 
 toast which Milly had prepared for her, the three 
 crept forth and set off for the hills just as the 
 sun's first streaks reddened the morning sky. The 
 air was crisp. But they did not mind that, for 
 they were good walkers; and as they pushed on,
 
 250 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 all in a merry mood, the warm blood went tingling 
 through their veins and mounting to their cheeks 
 and lips. They were back before eight, bearing 
 a plentiful supply of glistening green leaves ; and, 
 as we already know, the roping was finished on 
 time. 
 
 As Ruth had not been asked to assist in the 
 decorating of the church, she naturally felt that 
 her work was done when she had produced the 
 stipulated number of yards of roping. And as 
 she had various other reasons for not wishing to 
 obtrude on Bell's prerogatives as chairman, she 
 did not make her appearance until almost the last 
 moment before supper. Bell met her at the door 
 when she arrived. 
 
 " I see where somebody pays a forfeit to- 
 night ! " said Bell, making a vain attempt at play- 
 fulness. 
 
 " For what? " asked Ruth, looking at her with 
 childlike questioning in her large blue eyes, as she 
 crossed the threshold and entered the narrow cor- 
 ridor. 
 
 " Shirking ! " replied Bell, giving her one of 
 those covert glances from under her long lashes, 
 which she knew so well how to use. 
 
 " In what way, please? " There was a tinge of 
 resentment in Ruth's voice. 
 
 " In not coming down to help in the work this 
 afternoon," answered Bell with a look of triumph 
 in which mingled a gleam of malice. 
 
 " But you didn't ask me," she returned quickly.
 
 THE HARVEST FESTIVAL 251 
 
 " You knew the work had to be done. You 
 should have come without waiting to be asked. 
 The girls and I have been working all afternoon 
 while you have been idling at home." 
 
 " But you forget that I was up at daybreak 
 and working while you and the girls were asleep 
 in bed; and again you forget that I was working 
 all morning while you were out making calls. I 
 think our accounts are fairly well balanced." 
 And with a haughty toss of her head she swept 
 past the tantalizing Bell and disappeared through 
 the door of the anteroom. 
 
 Ruth's cheeks flushed with anger and her pulses 
 fairly throbbed with exasperation when she 
 brought up sharply against a garment-ladened 
 settee in the center of the dimly lighted room. 
 Fortunately, there was no one present to see her 
 mishap. This fact mollified her wounded feelings 
 in a measure. For one brief moment she stood 
 there hesitating undecided whether to retreat or 
 to remain and face the threatened ordeal. Fi- 
 nally, her nose went up in the air with a deter- 
 mined little perk, and her eyes emitted a wicked 
 gleam as she muttered below her breath : " I 
 shall remain, whatever the consequence ! " Then 
 leisurely laying aside her wraps, she donned a 
 dainty white apron and was ready for work. Her 
 grandmother had asked her to serve on the supply 
 table, over which that dear old lady had presided 
 at every harvest supper given by the church for 
 the past fifty years.
 
 252 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 By this time Ruth had fully recovered her self- 
 possession; and as she passed from the anteroom 
 into the vestry there was no trace of the angry 
 struggle through which she had just come ex- 
 cept, perhaps, the deeper tinge of rose in her 
 cheeks and the brighter sparkle in her eyes could 
 be taken for such. 
 
 It was a brilliant scene into which she stepped. 
 Fruits, flowers, and green boughs had wrought 
 a wondrous change in the dingy old vestry. The 
 large room had literally been transformed into a 
 sylvan grotto. Graceful festoons of laurel roping 
 relieved the walls of their dull grayness. Banks 
 of goldenrod, dahlias, and early autumn leaves 
 covered the window sills, chancel rails, and every 
 unsightly bare spot in the room. Side tables 
 fairly creaked under the abundance of native 
 fruits. And over all, the chandelier and wall jets, 
 nearly hidden beneath a wealth of goldenrod, shed 
 a soft light through their red poppy shades. 
 
 At first glance, Ruth was amazed at the large 
 number of the poorer workmen and their families 
 who were present, especially those from that part 
 of the village known as the " Latin quarters," a 
 section which had sprung into existence during the 
 last year of Richard Cole's life. These people 
 seemed to have assembled from all parts of south- 
 ern Europe, and as yet had hardly discarded a 
 single old-world characteristic either of manner 
 or of dress. And here they stood or sat with 
 dumb, smiling faces in picturesque groupings
 
 THE HARVEST FESTIVAL 253 
 
 about the room. The women in their gay-colored 
 dresses and kerchiefs, their eyes sparkling with a 
 new-born light, lent the crowning touch of bright- 
 ness to the scene. 
 
 Ruth quickly guessed the secret of their pres- 
 ence as she watched Dr. St. John flitting from 
 group to group with his cheery words and winning 
 smile. She had learned many things during the 
 late epidemic as she had gone from house to house 
 on her mission of mercy. She had seen the hidden 
 hand of Robert Cole, under the guise of the ec- 
 centric little doctor's, stretched out to these people 
 in so many ways that she took their presence here 
 this evening as another proof of Robert's earnest- 
 ness in the adoption of his motto : " Not unto 
 thyself alone, shalt thou live." 
 
 She had only time for a swift glance at her sur- 
 roundings and a mental flash of what it all meant 
 ere Dr.^ Craig reached her side and said softly: 
 
 " You look surprised." 
 
 " I am surprised," she answered, turning her 
 eyes full on his face in a most matter-of-fact way. 
 " Accept my congratulations. You are certainly 
 an artist; for none but an artist could have con- 
 ceived so charming a setting for such a scene. 
 I" 
 
 " Sorry to interrupt so pleasant a tete-a-tete, 
 but Grandma wants you immediately," broke in a 
 well-known voice ; and Ruth felt an arm slip under 
 her own and found herself being led off by Bell in 
 the direction of the supply table. Ruth suffered
 
 54 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 herself to be led but a few steps when she switched 
 herself free from Bell's guiding hand and made a 
 dart for her grandmother's side. Here she was 
 set to work in no amiable mood and kept busy for 
 the next hour. 
 
 Dr. Craig bit his lips in vexation when Bell 
 whisked Ruth away so unceremoniously; but his 
 feelings quickly changed and a subtile gleam shot 
 from his eyes and brought a smile to his lips, and 
 he began to hum unconsciously: 
 
 " I think I could be happy with either, 
 Were tother sweet charmer away ! " 
 
 Then his thoughts reverted to the scene under the 
 oak at noon; and again he asked himself: 
 
 " I wonder how it will all end ? " 
 
 His musings were cut short by Mrs. Cole's com- 
 ing up and claiming his attention. She gave him 
 her hand with a flattering compliment. At that 
 moment supper was announced. He bent over the 
 little hand with the grace of a courtier paying 
 homage to his queen; and then drawing it under 
 his arm he led her to the table which had been 
 decorated expressly in her honor. Dr. St. John, 
 Judge and Mrs. Gray, and Mrs. Hall were already 
 gathered round the table waiting their coming. 
 Presently, they were joined by Bell and the min- 
 ister, Mr. Hall. 
 
 " Where is Robert? " asked Mrs. Cole, casting a 
 searching glance about the room.
 
 THE HARVEST FESTIVAL 255 
 
 " Oh, he has one of his freakish turns on to- 
 night and chooses to sit with his dear people," 
 answered Bell with a sarcastic tilt of her head, 
 nodding in the direction where Robert sat at the 
 head of one of the long tables. 
 
 Mrs. Cole looked annoyed and was on the point 
 of sending for him when Dr. St. John very in- 
 geniously cleared the atmosphere by asking the 
 minister to say grace. This cut off further com- 
 ment on Robert's seeming desertion ; and the sup- 
 per proceeded with th usual clatter of dishes and 
 tongues. 
 
 There was quite another reason than the one 
 given by Bell for Robert's choosing to sit at one 
 of the common tables rather than at the family 
 table that night, a reason of which Bell little 
 dreamed; for she had not heard the minister's 
 warning to Robert in regard to herself and Dr. 
 Craig. It never dawned on her highly excited 
 mind that Robert was keeping a studied aloofness 
 from both herself and the doctor in order to avoid 
 a scene, a scene which might possibly have spoiled 
 the anticipated pleasures of others. Had she 
 known how matters stood, she might have changed 
 her plans somewhat. 
 
 The supper proved a decided success. Every- 
 one rose from the tables feeling at ease with the 
 world, if not entirely at ease within himself. The 
 best of nature prevailed among the groups which 
 gathered here and there about the room to discuss 
 the excellence of the repast. The flow of good
 
 256 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 spirits demonstrated the truth of the old adage 
 that " a full man makes a merry one." And so 
 our friends laughed, chatted, and jollied each 
 other as they waited for what was to follow. 
 
 Bell Cole had the entertainment in hand; and 
 as a matter of course, those who knew her talent 
 and taste for the artistic looked for something 
 unique. They were not disappointed in the first 
 part of the program; for she had engaged a well- 
 known concert company from a nearby city to fill 
 in the first hour. Then she had allowed her hid- 
 den propensity for the ridiculous to run riot, and 
 had rung in a few of the clownish characters of 
 the village to cater to the other side the up- 
 roarious, fun-loving side of her audience. 
 
 She had pressed Robert into her train as act- 
 ing chairman. He was to announce the numbers 
 in the order arranged ; and he performed his duties 
 in a masterly manner. Although he knew that 
 many of those present were covertly hostile to him, 
 and that very likely on the morrow there would 
 be open war between them, he gave no sign of his 
 fears of the brewing storm. He seemed to have 
 a wonderful flow of good nature during the whole 
 evening. Among the children especially he moved 
 with an open-handed generosity that reached the 
 hearts of the most timid and rubbed off much of 
 the shyness with which they had been wont to meet 
 him. 
 
 In his opening remarks as chairman he made 
 quite a hit; and he kept up the interest of the
 
 THE HARVEST FESTIVAL 257 
 
 audience throughout the concert part. When it 
 came to the second part, he laughed heartily at 
 the antics of the clowns in several of their stunts, 
 such as the hot pie and apple eating contests. 
 But when these same clowns began to indulge in 
 coarse skits and jests, his face darkened and he 
 sat stern and stiff. Somewhat wearily and with 
 a shade of disappointment on his face, he rose and 
 faced the audience to announce the last number, 
 when the voice of Ruth in low, half angry tones 
 reached his ear and arrested his attention. He 
 was standing with his back close against the cur- 
 tain behind which the players were screened from 
 view, and could not help hearing distinctly every 
 word that passed. 
 
 " I positively refuse to engage in such a fool 
 contest, or to be a party to it in any way ! " he 
 heard Ruth say. 
 
 " It is only a little harmless fun ; I see nothing 
 in it to get perturbed over," replied Bell pettishly. 
 " Besides, you owe the forfeit and should pay it 
 according to agreement." 
 
 " I deny the forfeit ! " returned Ruth firmly. 
 " And even if I did owe it, I should still refuse to 
 be a party to so cruel a jest as to expose the 
 frailties of that poor man to the merciless ridicule 
 of a thoughtless crowd. You had better abandon 
 this number of your program. I am sure Rob 
 Mr. Cole would not sanction it if he knew." 
 
 At that instant a shuffling sound from the plat- 
 form caused Robert to glance aside in the direction
 
 258 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 whence it came and was amazed to see Dick Stan- 
 ton, in a half tipsy condition, bearing an old saw- 
 horse and saw, staggering towards the front of 
 the stage. Before Bell could reply to Ruth, Rob- 
 ert had slipped behind the curtain and faced her. 
 
 "What does this mean? " he demanded sternly 
 of Bell. 
 
 " It means," answered Ruth quickly, drawing 
 herself up haughtily, " that Bell has arranged a 
 wood sawing contest between me and that poor, 
 unfortunate being, Dick Stanton ; and that I de- 
 cidedly refuse to play the fool." 
 
 " And you are right in doing so, Miss Bent ! 
 There has been enough of this tomfoolery al- 
 ready ! " exclaimed Robert, measuring Bell with 
 flashing eyes. Then taking Ruth by the arm and 
 drawing the curtain aside, he whispered tenderly 
 as he almost pushed her out, " You go to Grand- 
 ma while I straighten this thing out." 
 
 Ruth glided out without a word or even a look, 
 glad to escape so easily; and the curtain dropped 
 back into place. Beckoning her grandmother as 
 she reached the door leading into the corridor, she 
 passed at once into the small vestry where she hur- 
 riedly donned her wraps and stood ready for her 
 homeward drive when her grandmother entered. 
 
 Mrs. Bent made no comment as she submitted 
 herself to the trembling hands of Ruth. She had 
 seen Robert slip behind the curtain ; and Ruth's 
 hasty exit told its own story to her watchful eyes. 
 She smiled encouragingly into the tear-filled eyes
 
 THE HARVEST FESTIVAL 259 
 
 and patted the burning cheeks as Ruth reached 
 up to place the little black bonnet on her bowed 
 head. A few moments later the two passed un- 
 noticed, arm in arm, out of the church and into 
 the moonlit road, where they found Joe waiting 
 with the carriage to drive them home. 
 
 Meantime, after a hasty expostulation with 
 Bell, Robert brought the entertainment to a close 
 by announcing that the last number on the pro- 
 gram would be a humorous selection by Dr. Craig. 
 
 The doctor had seen Bell's dilemma and had 
 hastened to step into the breach to save her from 
 the humiliation of having an awkward ending to 
 her delightful entertainment. So he hustled Dick 
 and his saw-horse from the platform and proffered 
 himself as a substitute. And a splendid substitu- 
 tion he proved to be. So that the affair wound 
 up happily, and was pronounced the best ever 
 given in the town. 
 
 But the end was not all joy and mirth; for into 
 three homes it carried tears, heartaches, and con- 
 sternation. 
 
 In the audience that night sat Mr. Lunt of the 
 Pinkerton staff, on one of his periodic visits to 
 Coleville. Though others had long since aban- 
 doned hope of ever detecting the slayer of Richard 
 Cole, Mr. Lunt still clung to his clues. Ever since 
 the day of his summary dismissal from Coleville 
 by Mark Gibson, he had made a point of dropping 
 down on the villagers quite unexpectedly at odd 
 intervals. At such times he would stop over a day
 
 260 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 or two, talk with whomsoever would talk with him, 
 which were not many, for most of the villagers 
 fought shy of him, and then he would again quietly 
 disappear. He had run down this afternoon, and 
 finding the people on the qui vwe over the harvest 
 supper, he concluded that it might be to his ad- 
 vantage to remain over for the festivities. 
 
 Almost the first person he met on leaving the 
 dingy little railroad station was Dick Stanton 
 who, singularly enough, always espied him the in- 
 stant he struck the village, and stuck to him like 
 a leech while he remained. Whether these meet- 
 ings were by accident or by design was a puzzle 
 to Mr. Lunt, to which he could find no solution. 
 Nevertheless, with an eye to business, he welcomed 
 this attachment to his person and wheedled him- 
 self into Dick's good graces with the smoothness 
 of a worm. 
 
 Dick was in a maudlin state of intoxication 
 when he ran across Mr. Lunt that afternoon ; and 
 Mr. Lunt was somewhat disgusted at the thought 
 of having to be towed about by such a beastly 
 looking creature as Dick presented. At first he 
 tried to shake him and get off alone ; but Dick was 
 not to be shaken. He began to blubber and to 
 tell Mr. Lunt his tale of woe, how he had been 
 discharged and ordered out of the village by Rob 
 Cole, and for no reason whatever, only that Rob 
 Cole wanted to show his authority. 
 
 This information rather interested Mr. Lunt, 
 and he decided to make the best of a bad bargain ;
 
 THE HARVEST FESTIVAL 261 
 
 so he invited Dick to the hotel to take dinner with 
 him, an invitation of which Dick quickly availed 
 himself. On the way over and during the repast, 
 Mr. Lunt was regaled with all the news of the 
 county, and especially with what had happened 
 in the village since his last visit. 
 
 Mr. Lunt listened attentively while Dick rattled 
 on, adroitly leading him from point to point when- 
 ever he showed any disposition to lag or to wan- 
 der from the subject in hand. From Dick's talk 
 he gathered that a crisis was pending in the affairs 
 of the village, a crisis which might prove a bonanza 
 to himself; so he quickly resolved to sign the reg- 
 ister and engage his room for a few days and to 
 keep his eyes and ears open for business. From 
 his guest he learned of the church supper. He 
 also was informed that Dick himself was to take 
 part in the entertainment; a fact which may or 
 may not have influenced him to accept Dick's 
 urgent invitation to attend the supper. 
 
 Dick Stanton had indeed proved himself " a 
 budget of opposites," as Dr. Craig had sized him 
 up for Ruth's benefit that day. For some time 
 after his starting to work at the shops, Dick had 
 carried himself with commendable credit. The 
 fact that he was able to earn his own living 
 seemed to have a stimulating influence on his char- 
 acter. He ceased drinking and began to take 
 pride in his personal appearance, so much so that 
 the villagers began to wonder where he got his 
 money with which to dress so extravagantly, for
 
 262 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 his clothes were cut of the very best material and 
 tailor-made into the bargain. This gave him 
 quite a respectable air, so different from his old 
 devil-may-care self. 
 
 Dick had received a fair education ; and being 
 somewhat above the average in intelligence, with 
 much of the acuteness of his kind, he had a marked 
 advantage over his fellow- workers, an advantage 
 which he was not slow to improve. So that ere 
 long, instead of being the despised hunchback, he 
 was looked up to as a wit of no mean power. 
 
 Then came the epidemic of la grippe in which 
 Dick was attacked among the first. The disease 
 left him weak. It also opened an old sore on his 
 hip, which for a time threatened his life. This in 
 turn was followed with a siege of typhus. Alto- 
 gether Dick had had a hard pull during the last 
 nine months. And to add still further to his 
 tribulations, the old man had died early in the 
 summer, which seemed to break him all up. Ex- 
 cept that he was very much thinner and paler, 
 Dick at the present time was apparently as strong 
 as ever, which is not saying much for poor Dick's 
 strength. But he was changed greatly changed 
 or rather, he had sunk back into his old nasty, 
 drunken habits, and had become the bane of Nell's 
 life. 
 
 Yet withal, he had lost none of his prestige 
 among the workmen at the shops. He worked off 
 and on, coming and going as he pleased; still his 
 pay went on whether he worked or loafed. And
 
 THE HARVEST FESTIVAL 263 
 
 this might have gone on till the end had not Rob- 
 ert in passing through the yards that very fore- 
 noon accidentally run afoul of him and caught him 
 red-handed doling out beer from his large dinner- 
 pail at so much a drink, and discharged him on 
 the spot. 
 
 As fate would have it, Bell met Dick on his way 
 home, and knowing nothing of his discharge, hit 
 upon him as a cog in the wheel of her merry-go- 
 round. Accordingly, she approached him on the 
 matter; and he very willingly entered into her 
 plans, and was placed on her list for a wood- 
 sawing contest. He asked no questions as to who 
 his contestant was to be. He cared nothing about 
 that part of it. It was the fact that he had been 
 asked to take a part in the entertainment, and by 
 Bell Cole herself, that pleased him; and coming 
 just at this time, the invitation proved doubly at- 
 tractive and puffed him up with his own conceit; 
 and straightway he went off and got drunk. 
 
 According to his agreement with Bell, he was 
 on hand early. He came accompanied by Mr. 
 Lunt whom he had not lost sight of for a moment 
 since his arrival. Leaving Mr. Lunt at the door 
 purchasing his ticket, Dick swaggered into the 
 supper-room, and past Robert with an insolent air, 
 and strode up to Bell with a disagreeable leer on 
 his face. 
 
 " Here I am, Bell. I feel in the best of trim 
 for the job on hand," he said in loud tones as he 
 approached her.
 
 S64 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 Bell's face flushed with anger. Drawing herself 
 up haughtily, and giving him a withering glance 
 which told him plainly that he had presumed too 
 far, she motioned him to a seat at one of the tables, 
 and turned away. 
 
 This seertied to amuse Dick, for he threw his 
 head back and laughed uproariously, which caused 
 Mr. Lunt to hasten towards him and to caution 
 him to keep quiet. Mr. Lunt kept Dick in hand 
 until after the concert was over. Then Dick left 
 him to go behind the curtain. Finding himself 
 alone, Mr. Lunt shifted his seat to the rear of the 
 room, where he happened to drop in beside the 
 Rev. Mr. Hall. From this point he watched the 
 performance and appeared to enjoy it up to the 
 time when Dick staggered on the platform alone. 
 He had tried to dissuade Dick from making a 
 show of himself; but all to no purpose. He saw 
 there was a hitch, and was not surprised when 
 Dick was rushed off the stage and Robert an- 
 nounced the change. Dick was furious and 
 stalked out of the church in high dudgeon. 
 
 At the first sound of Dr. Craig's voice when he 
 appeared on the platform and began to recite, Mr. 
 Lunt started and leaned forward a trifle. Then 
 as the doctor went on, Mr. Lunt rose to his feet 
 as if drawn by some irresistible force and remained 
 standing with his eyes riveted on the speaker until 
 the end. As the doctor left the stage auiid a round 
 of flattering applause, Mr. Lunt dropped quietly 
 back into his seat and began questioning Mr. Hall.
 
 THE HARVEST FESTIVAL 265 
 
 When Dr. Craig made his appearance from be- 
 hind the scenes, he was immediately surrounded by 
 a host of admirers. Mr. Lunt made his way over, 
 and just as he reached the doctor he heard Bell 
 say: 
 
 " I was not aware you possessed this particular 
 talent. You certainly have kept this one hidden 
 under a bushel ! " 
 
 " You remind me of a young chap I used to 
 know in college," broke in Mr. Lunt. " He used 
 to recite that same piece. I could almost swear 
 it was he who stood before me while you were re- 
 citing. His name was Bixby. And come to think 
 about it, you resemble him, too; only you look 
 older." 
 
 Dr. Craig laughed lightly. 
 
 " Any fool can imitate ; only wise men can origi- 
 nate; and I am not a wise man." And he turned 
 away to speak to Dr. St. John who came up at 
 that moment. 
 
 Meanwhile Ruth and her grandmother had 
 reached home. When Joe drew rein at the side 
 door and alighted, he handed Ruth her mail which 
 he got at the postoffice on his way down to the 
 church. Ruth helped her grandmother out of the 
 carriage and into the house; and then, before re- 
 moving her wraps she sat down to read her letters. 
 
 "O Grandma, just listen!" cried Ruth excit- 
 edly. " Here is a letter from Papa. He has been 
 transferred to L., New Hampshire; and has 
 rented and moved into a quaint old house with
 
 266 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 great rambling rooms, within a stone's throw of 
 the State fair grounds ; and he wants me to come 
 and make a long visit before cold weather sets in. 
 In fact, he wants me to come right away so as to 
 be there when the fair opens next Tuesday. 
 Would you mind, Grandma, if I went to-morrow ? " 
 she finished up, dropping her hands into her lap 
 and looking up at her grandmother. 
 
 "Not in the least, dear!" Mrs. Bent assured 
 her. " You know Frank is coming home to-mor- 
 row for a few weeks' rest, so that I shall not be 
 alone. Go by all means ! Only don't stay too 
 long; for you know I miss you when you are 
 away." And she bent over and kissed the eager, 
 upturned face, well pleased in her heart that the 
 letter should have come at such an opportune 
 moment. 
 
 Ruth had maintained an unnatural silence dur- 
 ing the drive home. The melancholy look in her 
 eyes as she gazed straight ahead into space pained 
 her grandmother exceedingly. Mrs. Bent's keen 
 wits had detected that something had gone wrong 
 behind the scenes at the church ; something which 
 had hurt the sensitive heart of Ruth beyond the 
 power of speech. But she dared not question her 
 about it lest she should make a bad matter worse. 
 So she wisely held her peace. How glad she was 
 now for the letter from her son! She became al- 
 most gay as she sat down beside Ruth and insisted 
 on her reading every word of the letter to her. 
 Ruth read the letter aloud; and then the two sat
 
 THE HARVEST FESTIVAL 267 
 
 and talked about the absent ones until long past 
 their regular hour of retiring. 
 
 Next morning Ruth had risen, dressed, break- 
 fasted, and crossed the border into New Hamp- 
 shire, long before Bell Cole had opened her eyes 
 on the light of day. 
 
 Joe drove Ruth to the station to catch the six 
 o'clock train that morning. Milly accompanied 
 them to see Ruth off. After checking her trunk, 
 and seeing her comfortably settled in her seat 
 when the train came in, Joe hobbled down to the 
 platform, where he and Milly stood and waited for 
 the train to start. For they considered it part of 
 their duty to see the train on its way ere they left 
 the station. 
 
 At last the signal was given and the train began 
 to move slowly. Joe and Milly waved their fare- 
 wells. Ruth leaned forward at the car window to 
 return their parting salutes, when she caught sight 
 of Robert Cole walking rapidly towards the depot. 
 Her heart gave a great throb and then seemed to 
 stop its beating. She sank back in her seat lest 
 he should raise his eyes and see her, for the train 
 was scarcely moving at the time. Passing brief 
 as the sight of Robert's face was, Ruth saw that 
 it was of unusual pallor and wore a worried ex- 
 pression, which haunted her all day and spoiled 
 much of her enjoyment of the beautiful scenery 
 through which she passed. 
 
 Joe and Milly stood like sentinels and watched 
 the train increase in speed and finally clear the
 
 268 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 station. Then they turned abruptly when Milly 
 brought up plump against Robert Cole. 
 
 " Why, hello, Milly ! " he exclaimed, as he 
 caught her in his arms and recognized her. 
 " What are you doing out so early ? " 
 
 " Ah's just cum down to brung Miss Rufe. 
 She's off agin to see her pa," explained Milly when 
 she had recovered her breath and her equilibrium. 
 
 Robert's face blanched and a look of pain shot 
 into his eyes. He made no remark, however; he 
 only nodded his head and passed on, leaving Milly 
 staring after him and muttering to herself: 
 
 " Ah wondah what brung Massa Cole out so 
 early?"
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 ROBERT MAKES A PACT WITH THE 
 DETECTIVE 
 
 Several things had conspired to bring Robert 
 Cole to the depot that morning. As we already 
 know, he had appeared exceptionally gay during 
 the festivities of the previous evening, until the 
 closing incident. This had annoyed him so much 
 that he felt out of sorts with himself and everyone 
 else. After the applause which had rewarded the 
 doctor's fine reading had subsided, Robert has- 
 tened back to the vestry in hopes of meeting Ruth 
 ere the audience dispersed. He wished to apolo- 
 gize to her for Bell's rudeness ; and to win, per- 
 haps, a kind word in return. 
 
 He moved among that shifting throng in search 
 of her, but in vain. Finally he was told that she 
 had been gone some time. This added to his annoy- 
 ance and roused a rankling bitterness in his heart. 
 Then Mr. Lunt took him aside to make some in- 
 quiries about Dr. Craig. "Who was he? What 
 was he? And where had he come from? " All of 
 which he answered as briefly as possible. Mr. 
 Lunt was reticent as to his object. Nevertheless, 
 
 these questions coming close on the trail of the 
 
 269
 
 270 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 minister's cautionary advice had a very disquiet- 
 ing effect on Robert, and he parted from Mr. Lunt 
 in a rather disturbed frame of mind. He sought 
 his mother and with a foreboding silence helped her 
 on with her cloak and led her out to the carriage 
 and handed her in. Then he turned to look for 
 Bell, whom he had seen leave the church just ahead 
 of him. 
 
 On account of the conflicting lights and shades 
 in the yard, it was some time before he caught 
 sight of her, seated in the dogcart tete-a-tete with 
 Dr. Craig. Robert's brows contracted in an 
 angry frown. For the first time it seemed to dawn 
 on him that something more intimate than a pass- 
 ing friendship would warrant Bell's driving the 
 doctor home in so public a manner at so late an 
 hour at night; and that Mr. Hall was justified in 
 calling his attention to the matter. 
 
 Closing the carriage door with a snap, he or- 
 dered the coachman to drive home; then as the 
 dogcart swung out of the lane into the road, he 
 leaped into the rear seat and settled himself be- 
 hind Bell, much to the disgust of that young lady, 
 who showed her resentment by giving the unoffend- 
 ing horse such a stinging lash with the whip that 
 he reared and plunged with the smart and nearly 
 ditched them all. This act in no way disconcerted 
 Robert, although he fully understood its meaning. 
 He simply folded his arms across his breast and 
 sat up straight, stiff, and silent as a trained 
 lackey. Not even when Bell drew rein before the
 
 ROBERT MAKES A PACT 71 
 
 doctor's gate did he break the silence or change 
 his position. He seemed like one in a dream. 
 
 The doctor sprang lightly to the ground, bid- 
 ding Bell " Good night," and as the cart swung 
 round to return he shouted good-naturedly to 
 Robert; but Robert heeded him not. The cart 
 rattled over the uneven ground and disappeared in 
 the darkness, and still the doctor stood at the gate 
 gazing after it with a look something akin to 
 dismay in his eyes. And here Dr. St. John found 
 him when he arrived home half an hour later, and 
 rallied him on the folly of moon gazing. 
 
 Robert maintained the same stoical silence all 
 the way home. Not till Bell drew up with a sud- 
 den jolt at the side door, which nearly unseated 
 him, did he seem to recover any measure of his 
 wonted energy. Bell sprang to the ground on 
 one side, he on the other. Throwing the reins to 
 the groom, she ran nimbly up the steps ; but Rob- 
 ert was at her side when she reached the door, and 
 they entered the hall together. 
 
 " I wish to have a few words with you, Bell," 
 he said in a strained voice, taking her by the arm 
 and leading her towards the side parlor. 
 
 "Isn't it rather late?" she asked peevishly, 
 while allowing herself to be led into the darkened 
 room. 
 
 " Perhaps it is, for what I have to say," he 
 replied significantly. " Nevertheless, I must say 
 it." 
 
 When they had entered the room he closed the
 
 272 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 door behind them and switched on the light, and 
 immediately began pacing the floor, as if at a loss 
 how to begin. 
 
 Bell sank languidly down on the edge of the 
 chair and commenced tapping her daintily slip- 
 pered foot nervously on the soft velvet carpet, 
 while she eyed him steadily from beneath her 
 drooping lashes and waited for the storm to burst. 
 She knew he had cause to be angry with her; but 
 she had in mind the scene behind the curtain and 
 was not prepared for what was coming. She had 
 learned that he could be severe when he chose ; but 
 for all that, she did not purpose to sit like a 
 schoolgirl and be dictated to by him or anyone 
 else. So she sat poutingly marshaling her wit for 
 the expected tilt. 
 
 But ah, how little did she understand his noble 
 nature or the terrible struggle raging in his soul ! 
 At last he paused and stood looking down on her 
 with sorrowful eyes. 
 
 " Isabell," he said gravely, " I don't like the 
 looks of this intimacy between you and Dr. Craig. 
 Somehow, it never struck me seriously until to- 
 night. Even now I cannot bring myself to admit 
 there can be anything in it beyond mere friend- 
 ship ; yet I feel constrained to warn you not to 
 go too far. While I like the man in many ways, 
 his past life is such a closed book, and so mysteri- 
 ous, that I think you ought to be extremely cau- 
 tious in accepting his addresses either in public or 
 in private. That is all ; you may go."
 
 ROBERT MAKES A PACT 273 
 
 She rose slowly, somewhat piqued at the turn 
 affairs had taken; yet so thoroughly overawed by 
 the solemnity of his voice and manner that she 
 stood for a moment gazing at him in speechless 
 amazement. She had never seen him like this be- 
 fore, and she could not understand him. 
 
 He stepped to the door and throwing it wide 
 open, stood aside for her to pass. The tables had 
 been so completely turned upon her that she felt 
 herself helpless and at his mercy. Her usual 
 ready wit had forsaken her. Her very heart felt 
 like lead as she swept from his presence with a 
 very subdued air and a scarcely audible " Good 
 night." 
 
 Troubles never come singly. So thought Rob- 
 ert Cole when the truth of a possible love affair 
 between Dr. Craig and Bell flashed across his 
 mind. At first his anger was such that he could 
 have challenged the doctor on the spot ; but to his 
 credit he conquered the impulse and showed his 
 displeasure as we have seen. 
 
 So intense were his feelings, however, that dur- 
 ing the whole drive, he was debating within him- 
 self whether, after all is said against duelling, it is 
 not the quickest and surest way of settling certain 
 obnoxious questions. At any other time he would 
 have put the thought aside as barbarous. But 
 that night he was sorely tried and beset on all 
 sides with perplexities, of which neither Bell nor 
 Mrs. Cole as yet knew anything. 
 
 As a tactful general, before making an attack,
 
 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 always seeks the points of least resistance in the 
 ranks of his enemy, so the tempter chooses in re- 
 gard to his victims. It is always in the midst 
 of some great mental stress that temptation comes 
 with its subtile arts to play upon the most sensi- 
 tive fibres of the human soul. Brush it aside as 
 he would, the idea kept forcing its way through 
 and through his tired brain with ever increasing 
 strength, until at last he felt like shouting " pistols 
 for two!" 
 
 But Robert had fought his battles before and 
 won his victories in self-mastery, and he was not 
 to be beaten this time. In the midst of his sorest 
 pressure the sweet face of Ruth Bent rose like an 
 appealing angel; and the recollections of his own 
 blasted hopes came at last with a softening effect 
 and changed the whole tenor of his thoughts. 
 What right had he after all to interfere? Bell 
 was old enough to manage her own affairs. After 
 reaching this conclusion he decided to pass the 
 matter over, for the present at least, with a gentle 
 admonition to Bell; and as we have seen, he per- 
 formed this most disagreeable duty with such deli- 
 cate tact that Bell was quite taken off her guard. 
 
 Robert retired to his room immediately after his 
 interview with Bell; but not to bed. He had a 
 more weighty problem than Bell's love affair, dis- 
 quieting as that was, to settle ere he slept. Few, 
 if any, not in actual touch with the inside affairs 
 of Cole & Company's great plant, knew that Rob- 
 ert Cole and his employees met in that assemblage 

 
 ROBERT MAKES A PACT 275 
 
 under a truce. None who noted his buoyant spir- 
 its and felt the charm of his genial smile and 
 bright personality during the earlier evening could 
 have imagined what a cloud hung over his heart. 
 They knew nothing of the burden of cares under 
 which he had been straining every nerve for weeks 
 past. They saw only the gay-hearted, successful 
 business man, blessed with wealth and life's richest 
 gifts, the man whose cup of pleasure was full to 
 overflowing. 
 
 The truth was, things had not been going right 
 in the business world of late ; and a recent slump 
 in the market had pinched him more than he was 
 willing to acknowledge. He managed to keep his 
 shops open and on full time, while his competitors 
 had cut wages, run short time, or closed down alto- 
 gether. It had been done, however, at a big sacri- 
 fice, in the hopes that the depression would be only 
 temporary, and that he could tide over the slack 
 period without entailing any unnecessary suffer- 
 ing on his people. For weeks Mark Gibson had 
 been warning him of the folly of his way. 
 
 " Business is business," Mark would say with a 
 solemn shake of his gray head, " and you can't 
 mix business with sentiment and expect to keep 
 your head above the sinking line." 
 
 Robert was obdurate, and turned a deaf ear to 
 Mark's most excellent business advice. And the 
 massive chimneys belched forth their full quantity 
 of smoke each day ; the weekly pay rolls remained 
 the same, while Robert watched his private fortune
 
 276 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 slipping through his fingers. Something had hap- 
 pened that very day, however, which had caused 
 him to pause and wonder whether his sacri- 
 fice was really worth the while ; and whether he had 
 any right to place in jeopardy the fortunes of Bell 
 and his mother. He faced the situation manfully, 
 though with a strong revulsion of feeling. 
 
 As we already know, Robert had insisted from 
 the first of his coming into possession of his heri- 
 tage that it was not only his right and privilege, 
 hut also his duty, to close up the one saloon in 
 the village. He had, as we also have seen, in 
 deference to the opinion of Dr. St. John and the 
 advice of Mark, delayed action for over a year. 
 Though he might as well have carried out his 
 plans in the first place for all the advantage 
 gained by the delay ; fur the summary order which 
 came to Jack Stanton one Monday morning after 
 a more than usual riotous Sunday, to close up his 
 business and get out of town as soon as possible, 
 was none the less sudden to Jack, and was none 
 the less resented by the workmen as an interference 
 with their rights to spend their time and money as 
 they pleased, so long as they did their work. 
 
 Stanton promptly obeyed the mandate, and by 
 Saturday night of the same week he had domiciled 
 himself in a long abandoned tavern which stood 
 just over the border of Coleville on the main road. 
 A large sign done up elaborately in red and gold 
 swung from a broken limb of an ancient button- 
 wood tree in front of the house and announced to
 
 ROBERT MAKES A PACT 277 
 
 the wayfarer that the Coleville hotel was open for 
 business. The change was made so quickly and 
 good-naturedly on the part of Stanton as to rouse 
 a suspicion that he, knowing he held his tenancy 
 by suffrage only, had prepared in advance the 
 means of a lightning exit when the order should 
 come for him to vacate the premises. 
 
 This coup d'etat on the part of Stanton quickly 
 brought order out of chaos and quieted the mut- 
 terings of discontent which had risen against Rob- 
 ert's command ; for the saloon had been shifted a 
 distance of only twenty minutes' walk from the 
 works, just far enough to get up an extra thirst. 
 Besides, it appealed to the pride of the men to be 
 able to frequent a hotel rather than a common 
 saloon. So thither the men wended their way 
 night after night, rendezvoused all day Sunday, 
 and came rollicking home late at night, making 
 night hideous with their bowlings and drunken 
 laughter, such as had never been known under the 
 old regime. 
 
 And to make matters worse, Dick Stanton had 
 stealthily kept on tap in his cellar a cask of beer, 
 and every noon had managed to smuggle into the 
 works a four quart pail of the foaming beverage, 
 which he doled out to the men at a fair profit. 
 This had gone on remittently, that is, when Dick 
 was able to walk to the shops after recovering 
 from his periodic attacks of illness, until that very 
 day when Robert accidentally blundered into a 
 group of men in the yard drinking from Dick's in-
 
 278 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 nocent looking dinner pail, and discharged him. 
 The men had protested at Robert's summary ac- 
 tion and pleaded for the reinstatement of Dick. 
 But Robert turned a deaf ear to their pleas; and 
 the men went off in a sulky mood. 
 
 The men proved as obstinate in their demands 
 as Robert did in his refusal. About the middle of 
 the afternoon a delegation had waited on him to 
 press their point and had threatened dire conse- 
 quences in case their demands were not conceded 
 to. After listening patiently to their side of the 
 issue and having gone into some details of his own 
 side, it became evident to him that neither side was 
 ready or willing to make any concessions, and that 
 he was simply wasting time. He told them he 
 would take the matter under further advisement 
 and let them know definitely the next day what he 
 would or would not do in the case, and then dis- 
 missed them. 
 
 On the departure of the delegation, he had taken 
 counsel of Mark Gibson, and together they had 
 gone over the situation carefully. But the con- 
 ference was barren of results. Mark did his best 
 to persuade him to yield. This annoyed Robert, 
 and if anything, made him more stubborn to resist 
 all interference with his methods of running his 
 own affairs. While he was anxious to avoid trou- 
 ble, he had a high sense of his moral obligation to 
 the community as a whole; and having taken his 
 position for what he considered right, yielding was 
 out of the question.
 
 ROBERT MAKES A PACT 279 
 
 He felt the crisis in his career had come. To 
 yield to the unreasonable demands of his workmen 
 now would show a weakness on his part which 
 would surely redound to his disadvantage when 
 face to face with more serious issues in the future. 
 
 Robert left Mark very much out of humor and 
 went home to dress for the supper. He drove 
 down to the church with his mother and here, 
 throwing the whole question to the winds, he 
 plunged into the spirit of festivity which seemed to 
 prevail on all sides, even among the men, many of 
 whom were present, whose fate he held in abey- 
 ance. 
 
 And here he was now in the silence of his own 
 chamber, debating in his own mind what course to 
 pursue should certain threats be carried out. All 
 night he paced the floor in an agony of unrest, 
 weighing the results of a strike in case one was 
 precipitated by his refusal to concede to the rein- 
 statement of Dick Stanton. It was not until the 
 shrill morning whistle warned him of approaching 
 day that he suddenly decided to think no more 
 about it; but to be guided by events as they 
 shaped themselves. 
 
 Having come to this conclusion, he turned off 
 the lights and threw open the window. A breath 
 from the hills, sharp and sweet with the odors of 
 pine, floated in. The dull gray of dawn hung 
 over the valley, through which the white smoke 
 from many chimneys was beginning to rise. The 
 shadowy outlines of the distant hills zigzagged
 
 280 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 weirdly through the sailing mists across the hori- 
 zon with alluring effect. 
 
 Sleep was out of the question. So hurriedly 
 bathing his face and changing his clothes, he crept 
 downstairs, out into the bracing air, and off on a 
 brisk walk towards the hills. 
 
 He had taken a cross-country tramp, the crisp 
 morning air acting like a tonic on his jaded nerves 
 and mind, and was returning very much the better 
 for his commune with nature, when ill-luck brought 
 him to the station just as the train moved out. 
 The news that Ruth had gone again came like a 
 blow to his newly raised hopes and undid in one 
 brief second all the good of his two hours' walk. 
 
 The furnaces had long been in full blast when 
 he staggered into his private office, tired, pale, and 
 haggard looking. Summoning Mark at once, he 
 instructed him to post the notice to the effect that 
 Dick Stanton would not be reinstated. 
 
 Mark saw the uselessness of further argument 
 and was about to retire without making any com- 
 ment and had got as far as the door, when he 
 wheeled about suddenly and returned to the desk. 
 
 " By the way, Robert," he said in a soft purr- 
 ing tone, " Mr. Lunt called about an hour ago. 
 He seemed very anxious to see you, so I sent him 
 up to the house. Not finding you there, he re- 
 turned and said he would call again shortly. I 
 think he wants to find out something about Dr. 
 Craig; for I sat near him last night while Craig 
 was reciting and I never saw anyone get so ex-
 
 ROBERT MAKES A PACT 281 
 
 cited as he did. Later I overheard him asking 
 Mr. Hall who he was, how long he had been here, 
 and where he had come from. Mr. Hall referred 
 him to you. Will you see him if he comes again? " 
 
 " Certainly, show him in if he calls," assented 
 Robert wearily, without raising his eyes. 
 
 Mark retired; and Robert took up his morning 
 mail. He felt little inclination for work. His 
 head throbbed with a dull, heavy pain, and a 
 drowsy feeling began to creep over his limbs. He 
 tried to shake it off, but all to no purpose. His 
 mind would wander first to Ruth Bent, then to 
 Dr. Craig, and finally to the possible effects on 
 his workmen of his refusal to accede to their de- 
 mands. 
 
 He rose and began pacing the room with quick, 
 nervous steps. Raising his eyes after he had 
 taken several turns, he caught the reflection of his 
 haggard face and tousled hair in a mirror hanging 
 on the wall opposite a window looking out into 
 the side yard. His sense of pride was touched at 
 his neglected appearance ; and pausing before the 
 glass, he took his brush and comb out of the 
 drawer and began smoothing back his hair, when 
 the reflection of a face at the window behind him 
 caused the very blood to stand still in his veins. 
 It was the face of his dead father. For a moment 
 he was powerless to move, and he stood staring at 
 the apparition in speechless agony. Recovering 
 himself suddenly, he wheeled about, but the face 
 had gone. Striding to the window, he was just in
 
 282 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 time to see the crooked form of Dick Stanton 
 sidling round the corner of the office. 
 
 At that moment Mr. Lunt was announced. His 
 opportune arrival gave Robert no time to dwell 
 on the singular resemblance, a resemblance which 
 he had noticed once before. Or was it a freak of 
 fancy ? 
 
 Robert extended a cordial greeting to Mr. Lunt, 
 which immediately placed his caller at ease. 
 After the first exchange of courtesies, however, the 
 presence of Mr. Lunt had exactly the opposite 
 effect on Robert who, somehow, anticipated some 
 sort of evil from his visit. 
 
 Sinking into his great revolving-chair, Robert 
 motioned his caller to be seated. Looking across 
 at Mr. Lunt, who had already dropped into a 
 chair in front of the desk, Robert asked with busi- 
 ness-like promptness: 
 
 " Well, Mr. Lunt, have you been able to nail 
 any clue yet ? " 
 
 " No ; but it is not about that affair I wish to 
 speak." Then glancing apprehensively around 
 the room, he leaned half-way across the desk and 
 whispered, " Are we quite alone? " 
 
 " Yes, quite," answered Robert, eying him curi- 
 ously. 
 
 " Good!" he ejaculated, the pupils of his small 
 eyes contracting with a subtle gleam. " You see, 
 my profession calls for extreme caution. And the 
 matter in hand is of such a delicate nature that J
 
 ROBERT MAKES A PACT 283 
 
 must impose absolute secrecy on you to begin with 
 absolute secrecy do you agree ? " 
 
 Robert nodded in acquiescence. He could not 
 have done otherwise had he wished, for the glint 
 in the slanting eyes, as the pupils dilated and con- 
 tracted unremittedly, exerted a sort of hypnotic 
 power over his weary senses ; and the secretive 
 manner exhibited by the detective roused his curi- 
 osity in no small degree. He had already told 
 him that his business had nothing to do with the 
 shooting ; what then did all this secretiveness 
 mean? He had not long to wait for his answer. 
 
 " Good ! " came with a guttural sound from be- 
 tween the thin lips. " I will be brief and come at 
 once to business. I know I can trust you to help 
 in the cause of justice. Last night I recognized 
 the man who calls himself Mr. Craig, or Dr. Craig, 
 as the man for whom the detectives of three conti- 
 nents have been hunting for nearly two years, and 
 for whom a reward of five thousand dollars is 
 standing for his capture, dead or alive." He 
 paused. 
 
 Robert's face had grown ashen. It was several 
 minutes ere he could enunciate a syllable. At last 
 he leaned slowly forward and asked hoarsely: 
 
 "For what?" 
 
 " For murder." 
 
 " It's a lie ! " flashed Robert, springing to his 
 feet and towering menacingly over the accuser. 
 " A downright, malicious lie ! "
 
 284 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " It's the truth ! " insisted Mr. Lunt calmly, 
 taking the precaution to push his chair back a 
 pace beyond Robert's reach, for he saw he had 
 roused a lion in his lair. " Did you ever hear of 
 the Bixby murder, one of the most atrocious mur- 
 ders of modern times? " 
 
 " Yes, I think I recall something about it." 
 He was trembling violently. 
 
 " Well, this man Craig is none other than Nor- 
 man Bixby, the murderer." 
 
 " Impossible ! " gasped Robert, sinking back 
 into his chair almost in a state of collapse. 
 
 " It is true, nevertheless," reiterated Mr. Lunt 
 impressively. 
 
 " Be careful, Mr. Lunt, how you accuse an in- 
 nocent man ! I cannot believe this ! it is a case 
 of mistaken identity ! " Robert had collected him- 
 self and was marshaling his forces to the defense 
 of the man whom, only the night before, he was on 
 the point of challenging. 
 
 " There is no mistake in this case ! " he said 
 positively. 
 
 " Why are you so sure? " 
 
 " He was in my class at Harvard. I knew him 
 the moment he began to recite that piece last night. 
 I have heard him recite it dozens of times at our 
 spreads. Oh, no ; I am not mistaken ! " 
 
 " What do you propose to do? " asked Robert 
 after a moment's silence, during which time he 
 studied intently the man before him. 
 
 " Arrest him, hand him over to justice, and
 
 285 
 
 claim the reward, just as I mean to do with the 
 man who killed your father," he replied with a 
 dogged air. 
 
 " And what do you expect of me ? " asked Rob- 
 ert, eying him curiously, while fencing for time to 
 think. 
 
 " Nothing, except to keep quiet until I can com- 
 municate with the proper authorities and get them 
 down here. I have set a watch on his movements 
 lest he should have recognized me last night, and 
 should now make an attempt to escape. In a small 
 place like this, the presence of a stranger is very 
 soon remarked, and I thought it best to acquaint 
 you with the situation before I took any definite 
 steps. Of course," he continued significantly, " if 
 I or my man should require any assistance in order 
 to prevent the escape of my prisoner, I shall expect 
 you to do your duty as a citizen." 
 
 " Did you have any conversation with Dr. Craig 
 last night? " asked Robert, catching at what he 
 conceived to be a possible flaw in Mr. Lunt's argu- 
 ment. 
 
 " Oh, yes. I sat across from him at the supper 
 table and we conversed a little on general topics. 
 I knew I had seen him somewhere, but I could not 
 recall where ; and it was not until he began to recite 
 that I recognized him and could place him. You 
 see, his beard has changed his appearance very 
 much." 
 
 " Have you changed very much in looks since 
 you last saw him? "
 
 286 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " No ; at least I should say not very much. 
 Naturally, I have grown somewhat older looking. 
 So has he." 
 
 " Did he show any signs of recognition ? " 
 
 " None whatever." 
 
 " Does not that fact in itself strike you as 
 singular? If he were the man you take him to be, 
 would he not have betrayed himself in some way, 
 since you were so intimate in college? Or do you 
 suppose any man in his right mind, knowing a 
 price was set on his head, would be so rash as to 
 expose himself to detection in the manner he did 
 last night. To me it hardly seems possible. By 
 the way, Lunt is your own name? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Why, Dr. Craig knows you are a detective 
 and have been coming here off and on ever since 
 my father's murder. He has seen you many 
 times; he has told me so, when you have come and 
 gone without my seeing you." 
 
 "Nevertheless, I am convinced that he is the 
 man ! " declared Mr. Lunt with a touch of impa- 
 tience in his voice, " and with or without your help, 
 I shall deliver him up to justice." 
 
 " If I could be convinced that he is the man 
 wanted, I would not hesitate an instant in handing 
 him over myself; but it is a very serious matter 
 to accuse a man of so horrible a crime on such 
 flimsy evidence as the mere exhibition of a power 
 to mimic," said Robert gravely. Then after a mo- 
 ment's silence the lines around his mouth relaxed,
 
 ROBERT MAKES A PACT 287 
 
 his face brightened as with a new idea ; and leaning 
 forward, he said earnestly, " Let me make a propo- 
 sition, Mr. Lunt. You remain in town over Sun- 
 day as my guest. I will invite Dr. Craig to walk 
 with us, drive with us, and dine with us. This will 
 afford you an opportunity to study him at short 
 range. As I am a Harvard man also, we can talk 
 college and college men. Surely he must betray 
 himself if he is the man you take him to be. He 
 is a fine conversationalist; has traveled, and talks 
 freely when he once gets started. I am almost 
 certain he is not a Harvard man. I am under the 
 impression that he comes from one of the western 
 colleges, though I am not positive. What do you 
 say to my plan? " 
 
 A frown darkened the face of Mr. Lunt ; the 
 lines deepened between his shaggy brows ; and for 
 several moments he remained thus as if pondering 
 the weighty question of " to do or not to do." 
 Suddenly a light swept across his face, changing 
 its lineaments into an expression of craft and cun- 
 ning. Darting a look at Robert, in which doubt 
 and mistrust commingled, he spoke; and by the 
 tones there could be no misapprehending the reluc- 
 tance with which he deferred to Robert's proposal. 
 
 " Personally, I am satisfied beyond the shadow 
 of a doubt that he is the man. However, I will 
 agree to your proposition, if by so doing it will 
 make matters any easier for you. But I shall 
 exact one condition." 
 
 " Name it."
 
 288 TtfE SINS OP THE FATHERS 
 
 " That you will make a confidant of no one in 
 regard to his case ; and that you will not help him 
 in any way to effect his escape. I shall see that 
 he is kept under surveillance." 
 
 " I promise you on my honor as a man to give 
 you all the material assistance in my power. But 
 remember, you must prove your case before you 
 lay hands on him." He wanted to add a hint of 
 what might follow a false move on his part, if per- 
 chance he fell among some of the doctor's adher- 
 ents on the outskirts of the town ; only it occurred 
 to him that such a warning might savor of a threat, 
 so he checked himself in time. 
 
 Mr. Lunt rose, saying lightly : 
 
 " Enough, I will go now and return this after- 
 noon as your guest. Perhaps between us we can 
 clear up the mystery." Then, as if a new thought 
 had suddenly penetrated his skull, he asked, " The 
 reward ? Who gets the reward ? " 
 
 " You, every penny of it. Don't let a trifle like 
 that give you a moment's uneasiness ! " There 
 was a tinge of sarcasm in his tone which his visitor 
 could hardly fail to detect; but he passed it over 
 as unworthy of notice in view of the more impor- 
 tant issue involved. 
 
 Robert stepped to the door and opened it; and 
 bidding his departing guest " Good morning," he 
 closed the door behind him, turned the key in the 
 lock, returned to his desk, and threw himself 
 wearily into his chair to think over this new trou- 
 ble in all its phases.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 THE STRIKE 
 
 After the departure of Mr. Lunt, Robert sat 
 motionless before his desk for a long time. Mem- 
 ory flew back to the night of the accident which 
 had precipitated, as it were, the accused man into 
 the very bosom of his family circle. He recalled 
 vividly the story of the murder which filled the 
 papers on the following morning and for several 
 weeks afterwards. Then the persistency of Dr. 
 St. John in keeping the story of the accident from 
 getting into the papers, and the secrecy in which 
 he shrouded the presence of the injured man in his 
 home for months ; all this trooped rapidly across 
 his distracted mind. Trivial as each incident 
 seemed in itself at the time, taken together at this 
 late day they formed a sequence which tended to 
 strengthen the horrible suspicion which Mr. Lunt 
 had roused in his brain, and to weave a web of 
 guilt around the accused, which he tried in vain to 
 break down. 
 
 Then on the other hand, he thought, what inter- 
 est had Dr. St. John in him to wish to screen him 
 from justice? Did he have any suspicion that the 
 young man might be the murderer, or was his se- 
 cretiveness prompted by a professional whim?
 
 290 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 So intently was Robert's mind fixed on the 
 events of the past two years, and in trying to find 
 some way of escape for the doctor without betray- 
 ing the confidence he had pledged to Mr. Lunt, 
 that he lost all trace of time. The sun rolled 
 higher towards the zenith, but he heeded it not, 
 until at length he was startled from his lethargy 
 by the factory whistle announcing the hour of 
 noon. He sprang to his feet and rubbed his eyes 
 in dismay as he realized how he had wasted the 
 whole morning. 
 
 The fact was, his head had sunk unconsciously 
 on his breast and over-taxed nature had asserted 
 her rights and closed his eyes in a troubled sleep, 
 in which his frenzied brain had not lost for one 
 instant a single thread of the mystery he wished 
 to unravel. 
 
 Pulling himself together as best he could, he 
 opened the door and passed into the main office 
 where Mark Gibson sat as usual perched at his high 
 desk with his eyes bent industriously on his ledger. 
 When Robert entered, he raised his head and eyed 
 him with an inquisitive stare. 
 
 " You look as if you had been asleep," ventured 
 Mark, dropping his eyes on the page and resuming 
 his methodical calculations. 
 
 " I believe I have," answered Robert with a 
 yawn. " The fact is, Mark, I didn't go to bed at 
 all last night. I can't stand that sort of thing as 
 some folks can." 
 
 " Ugh ! " grunted Mark, raising his head for an
 
 THE STRIKE 91 
 
 instant and glancing through the window. 
 " You'll have more reason to stay up to-night, if 
 I am any judge of signs." 
 
 " What do you mean? " questioned Robert, 
 turning his eyes sharply on Mark's inscrutable 
 face. He thought Mark referred to the visit of 
 Mr. Lunt ; and he wondered how much Mark knew. 
 
 " Look yonder ! " said Mark in reply, nodding 
 his head towards the window. 
 
 Robert's eyes followed the bent of Mark's nod 
 and for a moment he stood as if rooted to the spot. 
 His face flushed and his eyes flashed with surprise 
 and anger. For there in the square, not a stone's 
 throw from the window, his eyes met a sight such 
 as Coleville had never before witnessed. The 
 green was packed to overflowing with a dense 
 throng of rough and unwashed men and boys. 
 They had filed quietly out of the factory yards 
 and assembled on the green as if by preconcerted 
 plans. In the center of the crowd, standing on a 
 bench, rose the dwarfed figure of Dick Stanton. 
 He was bare headed; and his long thick locks, 
 tossed freely by the breeze, fell in disorder over 
 his white temples. Robert could see that he was 
 haranguing the crowd with an impassioned ardor; 
 for his usually pale face was flushed, and his eyes 
 sparkled with an unnatural brilliancy as his long 
 arms waved excitedly in the air. 
 
 Robert could not hear what he was saying; but 
 he understood from the stern, set expressions on 
 that swelling sea of earnest, upturned faces that
 
 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 be was appealing to passion for support in his 
 fight. And Robert saw as he watched him that 
 he was just the stamp of man to rouse and lead a 
 mob to violence. That he was fiery-tempered, hot- 
 headed, and reckless, Robert knew from experi- 
 ence ; and his heart sank as the thought crossed his 
 mind of what might happen should Dick gain the 
 ascendancy over such a mass of men. And he was 
 not altogether blind to his own helplessness to 
 avert the danger. 
 
 The mass swayed like the unrest of the ocean 
 as the speaker seemed to rise to the occasion. 
 Robert watched the changing poses of the big bull 
 head, and the play of those rough-cut features 
 with a sub-conscious monition that he had seen 
 their counterpart in another. 
 
 " It looks rather threatening," observed Mark, 
 breaking the silence at last. 
 
 "Yes," admitted Robert with a start. Then 
 as if recollecting himself, he half questioned, " I 
 suppose the notices were posted? " 
 
 " They were," answered Mark dryly, " and this 
 is the result." 
 
 " Did you think they would carry matters to 
 this pitch? " asked Robert, removing his eyes from 
 the crowd to scrutinize Mark's face. 
 
 " I really didn't speculate very much on this 
 phase of the question," replied Mark cautiously. 
 " One can never tell what a desperate man will do ; 
 nor to what length he can lead others." 
 
 " Would you call this a strike, or merely a dem-
 
 THE STRIKE 293 
 
 onstration for the sake of effect? " asked Robert, 
 looking off through the window and frowning 
 darkly across the intervening heads of the crowd 
 to the animated face of Dick Stanton who still held 
 his listeners as if spellbound. 
 
 " Monday morning will tell. In the meantime 
 Stanton will do his best to straighten out old 
 scores," answered Mark, closing his ledger with a 
 vicious bang and sliding down from his seat. 
 
 " You mean his discharge for bringing beer into 
 the shops?" He glanced sideways into Mark's 
 serious face. 
 
 Mark had reached his side now and was stand- 
 ing with his hands thrust deep into the pockets of 
 his trousers, swaying gently to and fro on toe and 
 heel with exasperating coolness. The rabble was 
 increasing momentarily. On the outer edges a 
 fair sprinkling of women and girls were elbowing 
 their way into the crowd, while others were hurry- 
 ing from divers directions to swell the numbers. 
 
 " Yes," answered Mark after a slight pause, 
 " and also because of your closing up his uncle's 
 place last year. Dick is a pretty shrewd and 
 enterprising fellow. He knows the value of a dol- 
 lar to a cent. It was his custom for years to 
 spend his leisure time doing odd jobs round his 
 uncle's place, and to save every penny of his earn- 
 ings. Of course, your driving his uncle out of 
 town cut off that source of supply of savings, and 
 drove him to the expedient of running a blind 
 tiger on his own account. And he might have con-
 
 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 tinued to run it till doomsday had not you, with 
 your eternally watchful eyes, ferreted it out, and 
 discharged him." 
 
 " But you wouldn't expect me to allow him to 
 keep on in his nefarious traffic ; to give him, as it 
 were, carte blanche to run an open bar in the mill 
 yard ! " exclaimed Robert impatiently ; and clasp- 
 ing his hands behind his back, he began to pace the 
 room with short, nervous steps. 
 
 This was the one question on which he and Mark 
 could never agree. After taking several turns to 
 and fro across the room, he paused, and glancing 
 once more at the crowd in the square, said : 
 
 " I acted in this matter only for the best inter- 
 ests of my workmen ; and I believe they will even- 
 tually see it as I do." 
 
 Mark gave a cynical laugh and shook his head 
 disparagingly. 
 
 " You are altogether too sanguine of finding 
 that reputed vein of human goodness in the heart 
 of every man, like the boy searching for the pot 
 of gold at the end of the rainbow. Personally, 
 I take mighty little stock in such theoretical non- 
 sense. Experience has proved to me, as it will 
 prove to you if you live long enough, that, indi- 
 vidually, man is some good, all good, or no good 
 at all, according to his incentives and opportuni- 
 ties to do good or evil." Then waving his hand 
 towards the throng in the square, his tone changed 
 and deepened into bitter sarcasm as he proceeded. 
 " You see there the culmination of all your reform
 
 THE STRIKE 295 
 
 work. After having spent your thousands, and 
 expended your best thoughts and energy in your 
 endeavors of a moral uplift to better the condition 
 of these people, there they stand, ready to turn on 
 you like a viper. They have imbibed just enough 
 of your higher ideals of living to want to run your 
 business in their own way. They will listen and 
 be led by the dictates of yonder rattlebrain, who 
 has nothing at stake but a beer keg. He will be 
 hailed as their deliverer from the house of bond- 
 age ; while you will be condemned as their oppres- 
 sor!" 
 
 " Come, come, Mark, you are too severe in your 
 judgment of human nature. I fear you are grow- 
 ing cynical," expostulated Robert. " The people 
 appreciate what I have done for them. Surely 
 that counts for something." 
 
 " Appreciate ? Yes, this looks like it ! " And 
 with a short, sarcastic laugh, he nodded towards 
 the swaying mass in the square. " Oh, the fickle- 
 ness of humanity ! Give the populace bread and 
 the circus to-day, with a promise of the circus and 
 bread to-morrow, and it will shout for you to a 
 man. Stanton knows this better than you do. 
 He may not be able to furnish the bread, but he 
 can provide the circus, and no doubt will, for a 
 few days at least. In the end, the Lord only 
 knows what will happen." 
 
 Robert was about to speak when a loud shout 
 caused both to turn their attention to the green. 
 It seemed to them as if ten thousand caps were
 
 296 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 floating in the air; while the densely packed mass 
 swayed backward and forward, rising and falling 
 like the sea in motion. Apparently, Dick had 
 finished his speech and the people were showering 
 their plaudits upon him. Hat in hand, he stood 
 bowing, smilingly accepting their homage. 
 
 While the cheering was still at its height, Dick 
 was caught up and borne away on the shoulders 
 of one of his stalwart comrades, followed by a 
 cheering and howling mob. In a few moments the 
 square was clear; but the echoing shouts of the 
 men on their triumphal march towards Stanton's 
 hotel floated over the village long after the rabble 
 had disappeared from view. 
 
 Robert and Mark from their position in the 
 office followed the moving mass until the last man 
 had swung round the corner from sight, then Rob- 
 ert said quietly : 
 
 " I think I'll go to lunch ; Mother and Bell will 
 be anxious." And taking his hat, he left the office. 
 
 Robert walked leisurely across the road and up 
 the hill to the house. Mrs. Cole and Bell met him 
 on the veranda in a ferment of excitement over the 
 prospective strike. Rumors and counter-rumors 
 of what had happened and of what was about to 
 happen if the demands of the men were not acceded 
 to immediately had come to their ears from the 
 servants, whose inflamed imaginations had con- 
 jured all kinds of calamities from the gathering in 
 the square.
 
 THE STRIKE 297 
 
 " This would not have happened had your fa- 
 ther lived," moaned Mrs. Cole. " Why this dis- 
 content now, and after you have done so much for 
 them, so much to make their lives the more livable? 
 I can't understand it ! " 
 
 Thinking it best to take them into his confidence, 
 he threw himself into a chair on the veranda, and 
 motioned them to be seated. Then he told them 
 of his troubles with Dick Stanton of which the 
 gathering in the square was the outgrowth. 
 Knowing their lack of sympathy in his commu- 
 nistic theories, he hardly expected them to take 
 sides with him in his present difficulties. In this 
 he was mistaken. 
 
 Mrs. Cole had known Dick Stanton from his 
 first coming to the village, a puny little mite of 
 humanity, whom no one could pass without paus- 
 ing to pity. At first she had taken an interest 
 in the child because of his deformity ; but Mr. Cole 
 had quickly put a stop to her having any inter- 
 course with the Stanton family. " They were a 
 bad lot, and it was no charity to help such as 
 they," was his way of putting a quietus on her 
 good offices. She had, however, watched him grow 
 up, into a chuckle-headed youth whom everybody 
 shunned. At school he acquired the reputation 
 of a bully, and was known as the terror of the 
 small children, because of the hideous faces he 
 would make at them. Recalling all this, after 
 hearing Robert's side of the controversy, she be-
 
 298 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 came his most ardent supporter, and expressed 
 herself as willing to endure any sacrifice to help 
 him win his point. 
 
 While they were discussing Dick's probable suc- 
 cess or failure, Mr. Lunt made his appearance, 
 coming up the hill. Robert started at sight of 
 him and for a moment was at a loss how to account 
 for his presence at the house. Suddenly a happy 
 thought struck him and he said, casually : 
 
 " Mother, I have invited Mr. Lunt to be my 
 guest over Sunday. With things as they are in 
 the village one does not know what may develop. 
 Not that I shall need a body guard," he said with 
 a sad smile, " but it is always well to provide for 
 the unexpected." 
 
 This cleared the way for the reception of the 
 detective, and headed off any and all questions as 
 to his business. Both Mrs. Cole and Bell received 
 him with a degree of cordiality quite surprising to 
 Robert. A feeling of relief and satisfaction 
 thrilled him. He could now see where the presence 
 of Mr. Lunt, instead of being an embarrassment 
 to him, would lend a sense of security to the whole 
 household. Leaving his entertainment to Bell and 
 his mother, Robert excused himself and went up to 
 his room to dress for lunch. 
 
 Reaching his room, he closed and locked the door 
 and threw himself into a chair to think. As yet, 
 he had formed no plans of procedure for the con- 
 duct of this strange and distasteful undertaking, 
 which grew more and more disagreeable and re-
 
 THE STRIKE 299 
 
 pulsive the more he dwelt on it. He wondered if 
 the part he was about to play would not savor of 
 treachery in the event of Mr. Lunt's surmises be- 
 ing correct. Supposing the doctor were trapped 
 in his home, with he himself a party to the trap- 
 ping? Not that he wished to protect crime; but 
 he shrank from betraying the man who had won 
 his way into almost every heart and home in the 
 town. And besides, as he recalled the crime, his 
 sympathy had been with the slayer rather than the 
 slain. There had been extenuating circumstances, 
 brought out at the time, which now struggled to 
 shape themselves in his brain to palliate the horror 
 of the crime. Here his thoughts flew off at a tan- 
 gent, and the face of Ruth Bent as he had seen it 
 last night, flushed and angry, rose before him. 
 Only for a moment did he allow his thoughts to 
 dwell on her; he knew the danger too well to in- 
 dulge in a dream that could never be realized. So 
 putting it aside he rose languidly and began his 
 toilet. He gave up all attempts to mark out a 
 line of action. So far as he was concerned now, 
 events must take their own haphazard course; and 
 he would act in accordance with the needs of the 
 moment. And events were shaping themselves 
 faster than he knew. 
 
 He loitered over his toilet as long as courtesy 
 to his guest would allow, then descended to the 
 parlor, where he found not only Mr. Lunt, but also 
 Dr. St. John and Dr. Craig in waiting. 
 
 The doctors had hastened to call as soon as
 
 3<X) THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 they heard of the demonstration on the green. 
 Robert's face paled perceptibly as he clasped the 
 hand of Dr. Craig, and his voice trembled with 
 emotion when he tried to speak. He attempted to 
 smile, but his effort was a dismal failure; for the 
 smile that overspread his face gave such a tired 
 and sickly cast to his features that it alarmed his 
 mother. So impressed was she by his changed ap- 
 pearance that she was constrained from appealing 
 to Dr. St. John for advice only by Robert's taking 
 that worthy's arm and leading the way in to lunch. 
 
 Lunch passed off fairly well. The strike situa- 
 tion was, naturally, the engrossing topic of con- 
 versation. Dr. Craig, who had been in the heart 
 of the crowd on the green, rehearsed the speech of 
 Stanton with a correctness of tone and manner- 
 isms very amusing to his listeners, and showed his 
 remarkable memory and powers of mimicry to per- 
 fection. Robert exchanged glances with Mr. 
 Lunt, and thought he detected a doubtful expres- 
 sion in those glinting black eyes. His spirits rose 
 in proportion as Mr. Lunt's appeared to sink. 
 
 Immediately after lunch the two doctors excused 
 themselves on the pretext of making professional 
 calls. While the old doctor considered himself 
 pretty familiar with the facts leading up to the 
 present situation, he had suddenly developed a 
 plan of gathering inside and outside information 
 on the issues at stake. 
 
 True to his agreement with Mr. Lunt, Robert
 
 THE STRIKE 301 
 
 pressed Dr. Craig to return for dinner, though he 
 felt like a traitor while urging him. 
 
 Robert spent the afternoon at the office with 
 Mark, returning home barely in time to dress for 
 dinner. Nothing further had developed. The 
 village remained as quiet as on a Puritan Sabbath. 
 But for all that Mark insisted on every precaution 
 being taken. Extra watchmen had been distrib- 
 uted in and around the works, and over the grounds 
 of the estate, much to Robert's annoyance. 
 
 Mr. Lunt and Dr. Craig met him at the gate 
 and walked up the hill with him. Dr. St. John 
 had not put in his appearance when dinner was 
 announced ; but he came puffing up the steps just 
 as the party were being seated. 
 
 The old doctor was so much at home in the 
 family that he needed no special invitation to join 
 them at dinner. A place was always reserved for 
 him and he never hesitated to occupy it when the 
 humor was on him. So he bustled into the dining- 
 room in his usual manner and dropped into his 
 seat with the air of a privileged personage. 
 
 Dr. St. John was brimming over with the pros 
 and cons of the issue pending between Robert and 
 the workmen; which were warmly discussed be- 
 tween courses and long after the little party had 
 retired to the parlor. He had learned that while 
 the majority of the workmen were not in sympathy 
 with Stanton, under the rules of a recently formed 
 union, of which Stanton was president, they were
 
 302 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 bound to stand by him until his discharge was 
 shown to be justifiable, his contention being that 
 there was no rule of the plant which prohibited his 
 bringing beer into the yard, and, therefore, his 
 discharge for a breach of rules was unjustifiable. 
 
 " Evidently these fellows know how to stretch a 
 point on a pinch," laughed Robert in a pungent 
 tone. He had listened in silence while the old doc- 
 tor had recounted the various sides of the contro- 
 versy as heard about town. He had also listened 
 to the discussion which these reports precipitated 
 among the other members of the party until he 
 could contain himself no longer. 
 
 " Well," he continued after a moment's pause, 
 " if Dick Stanton, or any man in my employ 
 thinks I am obliged to post a copy of every rule 
 I consider essential to the right conduct of my 
 business at every conspicuous corner of the plant, 
 he'll find himself mistaken. When I gave old Jack 
 Stanton orders to leave the town, I thereby served 
 notice of my position on the liquor question. 
 What right had Dick Stanton or anyone else to 
 suppose I would tolerate inside of the mill yard 
 what I objected to on the streets of the town? 
 The whole thing is preposterous ! And I'll see the 
 works go to ruin and rot before I'll give in one 
 jot to such unreasonable demands as the reinstate- 
 ment of this braggart ! It is all bosh about my 
 being prejudiced against him on account of his 
 being the president of the union. I didn't know 
 till yesterday that the men had organized. Not
 
 THE STRIKE 303 
 
 knowing of his elevated position, how, in the name 
 of common sense, could I use it as a weapon 
 against him ? Let them go on and do their worst ; 
 I have taken my stand, and will maintain it at any 
 cost!" 
 
 He rose, as a signal to drop the subject, and 
 inviting the gentlemen to the billiard-room, led the 
 way.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 MARK TO THE RESCUE 
 
 Next morning at breakfast Robert suggested a 
 drive through the hills. They could call for Dr. 
 Craig and take him along. Everything was quiet 
 in the village and there was no need of making 
 themselves prisoners. Mr. Lunt agreed with him 
 and Robert ordered the carriage. 
 
 Robert was fast losing his confidence in Mr. 
 Lunt as a detective. He was not a little puzzled 
 at Lunt's manner of treating Dr. Craig. Up to 
 this point he had hardly taken any interest in the 
 person of the doctor. He seemed to have washed 
 his hands of the whole proceedings and to have 
 thrown the burden, not only of the doctor's safe 
 keeping, but also of proving his guilt or innocence, 
 on Robert himself. Or had he become so absorbed 
 in making a conquest of Bell that he had forgotten 
 the main object of his visit? 
 
 It was half past eight when Mr. Lunt and Rob- 
 'ert entered the carriage and were driven away, 
 after promising Mrs. Cole to be back in time to 
 attend church with her and Bell. The coachman 
 turned his horses into the west avenue, which would 
 
 bring them out on the highway just above the 
 304
 
 MARK TO THE RESCUE 305 
 
 residence of Dr. St. John, where they were to call 
 for Dr. Craig. 
 
 The avenue was lined on each side with a double 
 row of maples which shut off all view of the high- 
 way. The trees were gorgeous in their bright 
 colors, red and yellow predominating. Mr. Lunt 
 drew in a deep breath of admiration as he gazed 
 adown the long vista of brilliant foliage dappled 
 with the morning sunshine; while Robert sat back 
 and enjoyed the scenic changes along the winding 
 path in silence. 
 
 As they passed through the gate leading into the 
 highway, the horses gave a sudden start, and 
 rounding into the road under full sway, almost 
 dashed into a long line of half tipsy men who came 
 swinging down the road under the leadership of 
 Dick Stanton. 
 
 The coachman quickly reined in his horses and 
 tried to turn aside; but the marchers, four 
 abreast, moving squarely in the middle of the road, 
 blocked him. As the road at this point was nar- 
 row, with a deep gully running along the outer 
 edges, there was not room on either side of the 
 marchers to pass. The coachman saw the danger 
 and in order to avoid an accident brought the 
 horses to a dead stop. This was hailed with a 
 wild shout of derision. 
 
 Not an inch did the marchers give way as they 
 swung down under the heads of the quivering 
 horses; and ere a word could be spoken or their 
 designs surmised, a dozen men had sprung for their
 
 306 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 heads and wheeled them about into the line of 
 march. 
 
 Robert was indignant and half rose in his seat 
 to order them off when Mr. Lunt pulled him back 
 and whispered: 
 
 " As you value your life, don't offer any re- 
 sistance! We are in their power and must make 
 the best of it." 
 
 By this time Robert himself saw how futile 
 words would be; for the ranks had divided and the 
 men had pressed up double file alongside of the 
 carriage, which was moving slowly, hemmed in on 
 all sides by a drunken mob. Close by the horses' 
 heads a large transparency bobbed and swayed on 
 a level with Robert's vision, bearing the following 
 device : " Water's all right for washing ; beer's 
 the stuff to drink." 
 
 Folding his arms across his breast, Robert sat 
 up straight and dignified, and resigned himself to 
 the inevitable. His face wore a set, stern, angry 
 scowl ; yet it but faintly portrayed the storm rag- 
 ing within. He felt as he rode amid that horde of 
 liquor-crazed men as if his faith in human nature 
 was slipping from his soul. He went so far as to 
 say aloud that he would rather see the torch ap- 
 plied and the works reduced to ashes than to sub- 
 mit to the dictates of such tyrants. 
 
 Down the hill into the main thoroughfare the 
 procession wended its way, gathering force as it 
 went, until by the time it halted in the square, 
 almost every man, woman, and child had joined
 
 MARK TO THE RESCUE 307 
 
 the ranks, either as sympathizers or as protestants 
 against such a desecration of the Sabbath, and also 
 against the humiliating treatment of Mr. Cole. 
 
 While on the move the men had not been what 
 might be called disorderly ; in fact, for men so far 
 under the influence of liquor as they were, Mr. Lunt 
 considered them a remarkably well-behaved set 
 of men. Those flanking the landau carried them- 
 selves with a sort of shamef acedness ; while those 
 in the rear maintained a studied decorum, except 
 for an occasional outburst of triumph as some 
 recruit fell into line. Once or twice on the way 
 a snatch of a bar-room ditty, sung with a rollick- 
 ing chorus, broke the stillness of the Sabbath 
 morning. Aside from this there was no rowdyism. 
 
 But when the green was reached it seemed as if 
 Bedlam had broken loose. Disputations ran high 
 on all sides. Dick Stanton, mounting the bench 
 as he had done on the previous day, tried to speak, 
 but his voice was drowned in the shouts of protests 
 that rose on every hand. 
 
 The carriage had been drawn up at the edge of 
 the green ; and the vigilance of those who had per- 
 formed special escort duty was somewhat relaxed. 
 Except for the two leaders who still clung to the 
 bridles at the heads of the horses, the carriage 
 stood unguarded. All the others were giving their 
 attention either to the speaker or to the wranglers 
 around them. 
 
 Mark Gibson was in the office and saw the pro- 
 cession as it wound into the square. At a glance
 
 he took in the predicament and threatened danger 
 of Robert and Mr. Lunt. He saw that something 
 must be done to extricate them before the men 
 entirely lost their heads. 
 
 With these thoughts uppermost in his mind 
 Mark left the office by the side door and made his 
 way cautiously out to the square from the upper 
 gate, and reached the crowd without being noticed. 
 Edging his steps towards the carriage, he brought 
 up on the outer side and mounted the seat beside 
 the driver. Mark always moved quietly and with 
 methodical exactness ; and in this case, ere any 
 one of the few who saw his sinewy form rise slowly 
 above the heads of the crowd and settle down on 
 the high seat could divine his motive, he had taken 
 the reins from the nerveless hands of the coachman, 
 snatched the whip from its socket, and dealt such 
 stinging cuts right and left on the wrists of the 
 men who held the bridles that they let go their hold 
 and sprang back with a howl of pain. 
 
 Another whizzing flash of the long whip flew 
 right and left and came down with startling effect 
 on the flanks of the spirited horses. They shiv- 
 ered, stamped, and reared wildly on their haunches. 
 The crowd fell back in consternation, leaving the 
 road clear. This was what Mark had counted on ; 
 and giving rein to the frightened horses, away they 
 dashed like the wind ; and before those nearest had 
 recovered from their astonishment, or the rest of 
 the mob really knew what had happened, the car- 
 riage had cleared fifty yards.
 
 MARK TO THE RESCUE 309 
 
 A shout of rage rent the air and the crowd made 
 a stampede in the direction of the flying carriage. 
 On flew the quivering horses ! On rushed the mad- 
 dened crowd! The carriage swayed from side to 
 side with the momentum of increasing speed, leav- 
 ing in its rear a cloud of dust which choked and 
 half blinded the pursuers and caused many of them 
 to drop out of the race within the first half mile. 
 At the end of a mile the last man gave up the 
 chase, and with a curse threw himself on the grassy 
 bank at the roadside to get his wind ere he started 
 back. 
 
 Another mile was covered ; then knowing he had 
 outwitted the mob, Mark tightened the reins on the 
 foaming steeds and in a few moments brought them 
 to a steady trot. 
 
 " Well done, Mark ! " cried Robert gleefully, 
 standing up in the carriage and patting the old 
 man affectionately on the back. " You are a born 
 sport! Give the reins to Jim now and come in 
 here with us ! " 
 
 Mark obeyed without a word; and a moment 
 later he was seated beside Robert in the carriage 
 facing Mr. Lunt. 
 
 " A splendid piece of horsemanship ! " exclaimed 
 Mr. Lunt in complimentary terms as Mark seated 
 himself. 
 
 Mark bowed gravely, but made no reply. Rob- 
 ert glanced at him apprehensively. 
 
 " Things begin to look serious in the village," 
 remarked Robert as Mark settled himself back
 
 310 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 comfortably in his seat. " I wonder if I ought 
 not to call in a few state police? " 
 
 ." No ! " replied Mark emphatically, " that 
 would be the worst move you could make at this 
 stage. The crisis will come to-morrow morning. 
 It will be time enough then to take the defensive. 
 Any seemingly antagonistic measures taken to-day 
 might precipitate what you wish to prevent." 
 
 After this Mark lapsed into silence and during 
 the remainder of the ride took no part in the con- 
 versation other than to answer a question when 
 put directly to him. To avoid further contact 
 with the workmen while in their present mood, the 
 coachman took a roundabout course and returned 
 home through the meadow lands and across a 
 rustic bridge that spanned the river at the rear of 
 the grounds. 
 
 When they alighted at the side door, Mrs. Cole 
 and Bell, very much perturbed in mind, were there 
 to meet them, with Dr. St. John and Dr. Craig 
 bringing up in the rear. Mrs. Cole took Mark by 
 the hand and thanked him with tears in her eyes 
 for his interference in behalf of Robert. 
 
 " Richard always said you were the quickest- 
 witted man he ever knew, and his judgment was of 
 the highest in all matters, as you know," she said 
 proudly. 
 
 All were profuse in their praise of Mark's 
 stratagem, a glowing account of which had been 
 brought up to the ladies by Dr. St. John who had 
 hastened to the square on hearing of Robert's
 
 MARK TO THE RESCUE 311 
 
 precarious position. But Mark had solved the 
 question of Robert's escape before the doctor 
 reached the crowd ; and it only remained for him 
 to endeavor to appease the anger of the men and 
 induce them to go home quietly and respect the 
 Sabbath. In this he was successful; for the ma- 
 jority of the men were law-abiding and had gath- 
 ered out of mere curiosity. 
 
 Mark listened and accepted their commendations 
 with a contemptuous smile curling his thin lips. 
 Mrs. Cole and Bell pressed him to remain for 
 lunch. He declined the invitation, pleading duty 
 as an excuse. He pointed out that in view of 
 what had already happened, his place was at the 
 office to safeguard the books of the concern against 
 a possible outburst of the disaffected portion of 
 the men. 
 
 " But everything is quiet now," insisted Mrs. 
 Cole. 
 
 " That may be," replied Mark with a dubious 
 shake of his head, " but that doesn't prove they 
 can not and will not gather again in as short order 
 as they did this morning. Fifty men under Stan- 
 ton's leadership could do considerable mischief in 
 a very small space of time if they once broke 
 loose." 
 
 This clinched the argument and he was allowed 
 to depart without further hindrance. As he 
 turned to go he asked Robert to walk down the 
 hill with him, and they set off together in silence. 
 Robert had felt during the ride home that Mark
 
 312 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 had something on his mind. They walked briskly 
 down the avenue until they were well beyond hear- 
 ing of the house, when Mark stopped abruptly and 
 looking cautiously round to make sure they were 
 alone, he asked somewhat impatiently: 
 
 " What on earth possessed you to invite this 
 man Lunt to make his headquarters at your home 
 just at this time? " 
 
 Robert started and looked at him with a curious 
 light in his eyes as he asked: 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because the whole trouble this morning started 
 from the fact of your having a private detective 
 stopping at your home. When he left Stanton's 
 tavern yesterday morning he gave out that he had 
 been invited to spend the week end as your guest. 
 Dick spread the news last night and made quite 
 a handle of it, and got the men wild. They de- 
 clare you have insulted them by bringing in a pri- 
 vate detective to spy on them ; they declare further 
 that unless he leaves town immediately they will 
 ride him on a rail to the station and dump him 
 into a freight car headed for anywhere." 
 
 Robert became very much disturbed at Mark's 
 information. He gritted his teeth and ground his 
 heels into the graveled path as he listened. He 
 could not tell Mark the truth, for he was pledged 
 to secrecy, and he did not purpose to tell an un- 
 truth. His only course was to evade the question 
 if he could. 
 
 *' What blamed fools they must be ! Pon't they
 
 MARK TO THE RESCUE 313 
 
 know that Lunt has been coming here off and on 
 ever since my father was killed; that he has had 
 charge of the case from the beginning? " 
 
 " That is one of the points Dick is playing on, 
 that every man in the village is under surveil- 
 lance and has been for the past two years; and 
 that now you are trying to make it appear your 
 workmen are all murderers and cutthroats by tak- 
 ing Lunt into your home to protect you from meet- 
 ing the same fate as your father." 
 
 Robert looked aghast. The possibility of such 
 a construction being placed on Mr. Lunt's pres- 
 ence had never entered his head. 
 
 " I can't understand this turn of affairs," he 
 said presently. " It seems so unreasonable. 
 Why does Stanton tell such ridiculous stories ! " 
 
 " Because it pleases him and answers his pur- 
 pose," replied Mark slowly. " And by the way, 
 Robert, do you know Lunt is not the only private 
 detective in town? " he asked suddenly. 
 
 "' Not the only one? " And Robert looked at 
 him in surprise. 
 
 " Not the only one," repeated Mark, darting a 
 suspicious look into his companion's face. 
 " Somehow I have got it into my head that Dr. 
 Craig is being shadowed." 
 
 " Nonsense, Mark ! " Robert tried his best to 
 keep a steady voice, but it trembled in spite of all 
 he could do. 
 
 " No nonsense about it ! Yesterday afternoon, 
 last night, and again this morning, I saw a strange
 
 314- THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 man prowling about in the vicinity of the doctor's 
 home; and what strengthens my suspicion is the 
 fact that that very man is now skulking among 
 the trees behind you." 
 
 Robert started and turned quickly in the direc- 
 tion indicated only to catch the shadow of a man 
 gliding behind a large tree near the house. A 
 troubled look flitted across his face as he was 
 forced to acknowledge the weight of Mark's suspi- 
 cion. 
 
 " Take my advice and keep your eyes open, 
 and put the doctor on his guard." With these 
 words of caution Mark left him and proceeded on 
 his way to the office. 
 
 Robert retraced his steps to the house, sincerely 
 wishing that it were in his power to put the doctor 
 on his guard ; and at the same time he was puzzled 
 and perplexed by Mark's words. What did he 
 know? Realizing how powerless he was to warn 
 the doctor without breaking his word of honor, 
 Robert resolved on one thing. He would exact a 
 promise from Mr. Lunt to make no arrest until the 
 difficulties at the works should be adjusted. 
 
 Accordingly he sought a private interview with 
 Mr. Lunt immediately on reaching the house, and 
 laid the matter before that gentleman in its most 
 aggravating light. Mr. Lunt, readily compre- 
 hending the delicate position in which Robert 
 found himself, assented to the request. He fur- 
 ther agreed to call off the guard whom he admitted
 
 MARK TO THE RESCUE 315 
 
 he had set to dog the movements of the doctor, 
 if by so doing it would relieve the situation. 
 
 " I think it will," replied Robert with avidity. 
 " Besides I see no reason for such a guard. Thus 
 far the doctor has shown no signs of recognizing 
 you as a former acquaintance; neither has he 
 shown any suspicion that he is being watched and 
 trailed. He takes your presence here, as all the 
 village does, as in connection with my father's 
 murder. Personally, I am more convinced than 
 ever that you are mistaken in your man." 
 
 " I shall not dispute your privilege to hold to 
 your own belief in a mistaken identity," he said 
 with the same dogged manner he had shown at 
 their previous discussion of the case. " I too still 
 cling to my first convictions. As for his betray- 
 ing himself, I did not expect it. He is too well 
 schooled in self-possession for that. I have made 
 no attempt to press the point of recognition upon 
 him, as you have no doubt noticed, neither do I 
 intend to do so. At the same time I have left 
 nothing to chance. My arrangements are com- 
 plete. The proper authorities will step in and 
 make the arrest when I give the word." 
 
 Robert looked his amazement. He had not had 
 the faintest idea that things had gone so far. 
 Somehow he had been laboring under the impres- 
 sion that the whole matter was to be held in abey- 
 ance until Mr. Lunt had made certain tests and 
 observations which would sustain his contention be-
 
 316 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 yond a reasonable doubt. He could hardly believe 
 what he heard. 
 
 "Then you have already taken steps?" He 
 tried to speak calmly. 
 
 " I have," answered Mr. Lunt coolly. 
 
 The hot blood tingled through Robert's veins in 
 desperation, and he felt a tigerish desire to spring 
 at the man's throat and strangle him. He con- 
 trolled his rising temper, however, and continued 
 to catechize him. 
 
 "When did you do this?" 
 
 " Yesterday morning." 
 
 "Before you called on me?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then your agreement with me was not strictly 
 on the square? " 
 
 ** Why, yes, I considered it so. You wanted 
 the arrest held up until you could convince your- 
 self of the identity of the man. I agreed to hold 
 up over Sunday. I have kept my agreement so 
 far, and mean to keep it implicitly. But I did not 
 mean to run any risks of losing my man; and I 
 do not intend to do so now." And he brought 
 his jaws together with a determined snap. 
 
 Robert saw the futility of argument. 
 
 "When do you expect the sheriffs to arrive?" 
 was his next question. 
 
 " Within an hour of my call." 
 
 " Then it is still within your power to stave off 
 the arrest a few days if you choose? " 
 
 " Yes."
 
 MARK TO THE RESCUE 
 
 "And you will do it to oblige me?" he asked 
 eagerly. 
 
 *' Yes, if you adhere to your promise to give 
 him no warning." 
 
 Robert heaved a sigh of relief, as if a weight 
 had been removed from his mind. 
 
 " I have given you my word and have kept it 
 faithfully, and will keep it to the bitter end ! " he 
 said solemnly. 
 
 Having come to this agreement, Robert felt 
 more at ease and rose to join the other members 
 of the household in the dining-room where they 
 had assembled for lunch. His heart grew lighter, 
 his face lost much of its gravity, and he met the 
 anxious eyes of his mother with the semblance of 
 a smile as he took his seat at the table. His was 
 a sanguine nature. No matter how dark the pros- 
 pects were at a given time, he could always see 
 the light ahead. The truce which he had just con- 
 cluded with Mr. Lunt filled him with new hope. 
 Somehow, he thought, the doctor would be able to 
 prove a mistaken identity without the humiliation 
 of being placed under arrest. He could never 
 forget Frank Bent, and the horror of his trials. 
 
 The rest of the day passed with no further in- 
 cidents to mar the ordinary quiet of a Coleville 
 Sabbath. None of the family appeared at church 
 that day. This left the Rev. Mr. Hall free to 
 preach his sermons laudatory of the character of 
 Robert Cole and the wonderful work he had ac- 
 complished for the good of the village since his
 
 318 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 father's death, and to counsel moderation and a 
 strict compliance with law and order till the pres- 
 ent misunderstanding between employer and em- 
 ployee should be brought to an end.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 ROBERT RECEIVES A CALL FROM NELL 
 STANTON 
 
 As Mark had predicted, the test came on Mon- 
 day morning. Long before the starting hour the 
 workmen began to gather in the square, and while 
 waiting for the gates to open, passed their time 
 in singing, laughing, and badgering each other, 
 making a noisy display of bravado until Dick 
 Stanton appeared. He came swaggering round 
 the corner just as the gates were thrown open. 
 Had he timed his coming, the effect could not have 
 been more to his purpose. There was a break in 
 the crowd, a rush towards him, and he was in- 
 stantly caught up and carried bodily through the 
 crowd to the bench in the center of the green. 
 This bench had been selected as Dick's rostrum 
 because it was more elevated than any of the other 
 benches ; and when standing on it, stretched to his 
 full height, it brought his diminutive, misshapen 
 body on a level with the heads of the crowd, while 
 his big head towered above. 
 
 When he found his legs under him on the bench, 
 he steadied himself as best he could, took off his 
 
 hat, and with a hideous leer on his swollen face, 
 
 319
 
 320 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 called for three cheers for liberty. They were 
 given with a will; and then as on Saturday, he 
 began to speak and for over -an hour held his audi- 
 ence as if spellbound. 
 
 As we have seen, the gates had been opened at 
 the regular hour ; but only a small number of those 
 assembled in the square had the moral courage to 
 venture in ; and those who did had to run a fire 
 of hoots, howls, and yells of derision, embellished 
 with salvos of blasphemous abuse. 
 
 Robert and Mark were in the office watching the 
 demonstration with sickening yet determined 
 hearts. Now that the crucial test had come, 
 Mark stood ready to back Robert up with all the 
 strength of his loyal nature. From the first Mark 
 felt that Robert would play a losing game. But 
 now the battle royal was on, he patted him on the 
 back and cried encouragingly: 
 
 " Don't flinch now ! " 
 
 So few had entered the works that by eight 
 o'clock Robert saw the futility of attempting to 
 run the machinery longer, and ordered the plant 
 closed till noon, promising those who had reported 
 for work full wages for whatever time they might 
 be idle. 
 
 The closing of the plant was hailed with wild 
 shouts of triumph by the waiting crowd in the 
 square. Then, after giving full vent to their feel- 
 ings in various ways, the men took up a line of 
 march and headed for Stanton's hotel, followed by 
 the plaudits of their women folks, who little under-
 
 ROBERT RECEIVES A CALL 321 
 
 stood what was involved in the main issue of the 
 struggle, and who cared less so long as their men 
 stood shoulder to shoulder for the principle of the 
 thing, whatever it was. And this seems to be the 
 crowning weakness of woman kind, to stand by their 
 men in their struggles for principles, whether those 
 principles be right or wrong. 
 
 The shouts of the rabble had hardly died away 
 in the distance when the office door opened and 
 Nell Stanton, pale and wild-eyed, stepped in and 
 approached the railing behind which Mark had 
 retired to his customary station as soon as the 
 men had left the square. Robert was in his pri- 
 vate office, the door of which stood ajar. He was 
 pacing restlessly to and fro, thinking of the pos- 
 sible concessions he might make to the men with- 
 out surrendering the main point of difference, 
 which was the reinstatement of Dick Stanton. 
 
 When Mark raised his eyes and beheld Nell 
 standing before him, he almost fell from his seat 
 with fright and amazement. Slipping down from 
 his seat and gliding round to where she stood, he 
 was obliged to grasp the rail for support. 
 
 " Well, what now? " he asked under his breath. 
 
 " I want to see Robert Cole," she answered, 
 pitching her voice loud enough to be heard in the 
 office beyond. 
 
 " Impossible ! " replied Mark, shaking his head 
 disapprovingly. " Mr. Cole is too busy to be dis- 
 turbed at present. If you have any message, you 
 may leave it with me and I will see that he gets
 
 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 it when he is at leisure." Mark had recovered his 
 self-possession and now spoke with his wonted busi- 
 ness air. 
 
 Looking past him through the open door, Nell 
 saw Robert pacing the floor of the inner office, 
 and was not to be bluffed by Mark. She was fully 
 aware when she came that Mark would attempt to 
 prevent her from seeing Robert, and she had mar- 
 shaled her wits to outgeneral him. She was quick 
 to see her advantage in the open door, and as 
 quick to make up her mind to profit by it. An 
 amused smile wreathed her white lips as she lis- 
 tened to his suave words and watched his facial 
 contortions as he motioned her to be gone. 
 Throwing her head back, she laughed derisively in 
 his face, and pointing to the open door, said in a 
 voice that she knew would penetrate to the ears 
 of Robert, 
 
 " Come, Mark, your excuse is rather a lame one, 
 seeing that Mr. Cole appears to be very much at 
 leisure this morning. As my business with Mr. 
 Cole is of the utmost importance, I insist on being 
 admitted to his presence." 
 
 " I tell you it is impossible ! " reiterated Mark, 
 waving her back. 
 
 ** Nothing is impossible to a determined woman, 
 Mark," she replied with a defiant toss of her head. 
 " I have come to talk with Robert Cole and neither 
 you nor any other man on earth shall prevent 
 me ! " Then quick as a flash, she laid her hand
 
 ROBERT RECEIVES A CALL 323 
 
 on the gate leading into the enclosure, pushed it 
 open, and slipped behind the railing ere Mark 
 could move. 
 
 The space behind the rail was narrow, barely 
 wide enough for two persons to pass under the 
 ordinary courtesies of everyday life. But Mark 
 Gibson never dealt in amities when the welfare of 
 Cole and Company was at stake. It was at stake 
 now; and his duty was, at all hazards, to prevent 
 this meeting. So that when she attempted to pass 
 through, she found her progress blocked by Mark, 
 who faced her squarely in the passage. Nothing 
 daunted, she endeavored to brush past him. This 
 riled him beyond forbearance, and taking her by 
 the shoulders, he began to force her back when 
 Robert rushed from his office to her rescue. 
 Catching Mark by the collar, Robert drew him out 
 of the passageway, and whirled him aside, ex- 
 claiming : 
 
 " In the name of heaven, Mark, what does this 
 mean ? " 
 
 " It means that this " began Mark, trembling 
 with suppressed rage. 
 
 " Let me answer the question," broke in Nell 
 calmly, stepping out of the narrow pasageway 
 and nearer the open door of Robert's private 
 room. " Mark is altogether too much excited to 
 think clearly and might, unconsciously, state that 
 which would not be strictly true." Her tone was 
 sarcastic; and her eyes flashed a scornful look on
 
 324 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 Mark. After a moment's pause she went on : "I 
 have come to talk over the matter of your rein- 
 stating Dick 
 
 " I can not talk to you on that subject, madam," 
 interrupted Robert gently but firmly, " so there is 
 no need of wasting any more time." 
 
 " That is just what I tried to explain to her, 
 but she wouldn't listen," explained Mark, stepping 
 into the breach as he saw Robert was inclined to 
 cut the interview short. Moreover, he wanted to 
 redeem himself in Robert's eyes for his apparent 
 rough treatment of the woman. 
 
 But Nell was not to be disposed of so easily. 
 Darting past the men before either of them could 
 put out a hand to stop her, she glided into the 
 private office like a shadow. Robert saw now that 
 his better policy would be to temporize with her, 
 so waving Mark aside, he followed her in. 
 
 Mark's face was a study as he wheeled about, 
 mounted his seat, and took up his quill. It looked 
 as if all the furies were at war in his soul. Yet 
 he was outwardly calm. He made no attempt to 
 work, however. He simply sat and gazed va- 
 cantly over the desk rail and out through the 
 window beyond. That his thoughts were en- 
 grossed by what was to happen in the next room 
 was apparent; for his head was perked slightly 
 on one side as if waiting for the voice that must 
 come to his ears. The door between stood wide 
 open, so that he could not fail to catch every word 
 spoken. It seemed to him an age ere Robert's
 
 ROBERT RECEIVES A CALL 325 
 
 voice floated out to him. He bent his head to 
 listen. 
 
 " Be seated, madam," said Robert courteously, 
 pointing to a chair in front of the desk. Then 
 passing round and throwing himself into his great 
 revolving seat, he faced her and went on in a calm, 
 firm voice : " Now I will listen to what you have 
 to say; but I must tell you to begin with, that I 
 shall not reinstate your brother." 
 
 " My son, if you please," she corrected, fixing 
 her eyes full on his face as if to note the effect 
 of her words. 
 
 "Your son?" he half questioned, meeting her 
 gaze with a look of surprise that showed how un- 
 prepared he was for such a declaration. 
 
 " Yes, my son," she reiterated calmly, drop- 
 ping her eyes before his penetrating gaze. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, but I was not aware that 
 you had ever been married," he half apologized, 
 moving uneasily in his chair as if he wished the 
 interview were at an end. 
 
 " I have not been," she acknowledged slowly, 
 while the faintest tinge of color crept into her 
 cheeks and lips and relieved her face of its deathly 
 appearance. " Nevertheless," she went on after 
 a moment's pause, " he is my son ; though for rea- 
 sons best known to myself and one or two others 
 I have never openly admitted it. The time has 
 now come, however, when circumstances compel 
 me to reveal his parentage, even though I expose 
 the skeleton in the family closet,"
 
 326 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " Pardon me, Miss Stanton," he interrupted po- 
 litely, rising as if to terminate the talk ; " but as 
 I am not concerned in your family affairs, I pre- 
 fer not to listen to your recital of household 
 secrets." 
 
 " But you are concerned in my family secrets ; 
 that is why I have come to you; and that is why 
 you must listen to me." And she met his look of 
 impatience with an unflinching stare. 
 
 "Must?" he questioned softly, elevating his 
 brows and looking down on her from across the 
 desk. An amused smile chased away the bored 
 look of a moment before. Her coolness and de- 
 termination, together with her apparent confi- 
 dence in herself, began to interest him in spite of 
 his desire to get rid of her. And besides, he could 
 not help noticing that despite her forty odd years 
 she was still a very handsome woman, and much 
 superior in speech to any of the women of the 
 village. " Must is a very strong word," he said 
 after an interval of silence. " Besides, I fail to 
 see where your family secrets can have any bear- 
 ing on the question at issue one way or an- 
 other." 
 
 " Had you not better reserve your decision until 
 after you have heard my story?" she asked 
 quietly. " Perhaps I may convince you to the 
 contrary." And with a peremptory motion of 
 her shapely white hand, and a slight bend of her 
 stately head, she waved him back into his seat. 
 " Pray sit down ! You will find it less tedious to
 
 ROBERT RECEIVES A CALL 
 
 listen to a long story if you try to make yourself 
 comfortable." 
 
 " But I have no time to listen to a long story, 
 madam," he protested mildly as he sank back into 
 his chair. There was something in the uncanny 
 gleam of her large dark eyes which compelled him 
 to obey. 
 
 " Nevertheless you will listen to me," she said in 
 a soft tone. 
 
 " Then you must be brief," he insisted. 
 
 " Brevity in my case would mean bluntness." 
 She laughed ironically. " Still, if it be your 
 choice, you can have it." Then she seemed to 
 hesitate. Her eyes wandered through the window 
 and ranged over the deserted yard, while a serious, 
 half painful expression settled on her face. Ap- 
 parently she had forgotten her surroundings. 
 
 " Well, I am waiting," said Robert, breaking 
 the silence impatiently. 
 
 She started and brought her eyes back to his 
 face. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Mr. Cole," she apolo- 
 gized in a contrite tone. *' The fact is, I hardly 
 know how to begin. I thought I could tell you 
 straight off; but I can't. I have always liked 
 you, for you have been good to Dick in many 
 ways. You see, I don't want to hurt your feel- 
 ings ; and I don't want to kill your respect and 
 love for the dead. But I must save Dick ! If you 
 will only reinstate him, and promise to keep him 
 at work as long as he lives, I will go away and
 
 328 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 never trouble you again ! You can see I have not 
 long to live, the doctor says so ; and I want to 
 know that someone will take an interest in Dick 
 when I am gone. You will reinstate him ? " she 
 pleaded, stretching her long, emaciated hands ap- 
 pealingly towards him, while the tears rolled over 
 the hectic spots on her hollow cheeks. 
 
 " I can not, and will not, reinstate Dick," he 
 answered firmly, though he pitied her from the 
 depths of his heart. 
 
 " But I tell you, you must ! " There was a 
 determined ring in her voice and a steely glint in 
 her eyes. 
 
 " Must? " he repeated with a touch of irrita- 
 tion in his voice. 
 
 Their eyes met in a steady stare as if each 
 were measuring the other's power of resistance. 
 Though by nature deferential to women, and slow 
 to anger, Robert began to feel a sort of mental 
 friction under the bold, imperious light in her dark 
 eyes, which he could not hide. On the other hand 
 she seemed to regain her composure and rather to 
 enjoy his rising irritation. She waited for him to 
 speak. 
 
 At length he asked slowly : 
 
 "Why must I?" 
 
 " Because he is my son," she replied in faltering 
 tones, " and because " She paused. 
 
 "And because what?" he asked sharply. 
 His patience was about exhausted, for he began to 
 feel that she was playing with him.
 
 ROBERT RECEIVES A CALL 329 
 
 She leaned slightly forward; her face turned a 
 shade paler ; and her voice sounded clear as clank- 
 ing steel when she answered, 
 
 " Because he is your father's son and your 
 brother ! " 
 
 " You lie ! " he cried, springing to his feet with 
 clenched fists and blazing eyes. 
 
 " It is true ! " she declared, rising and facing 
 him like a suddenly enraged tigress defending her 
 young. " Your father deceived me by going 
 through a mock marriage with me when I was a 
 girl of only sixteen. For two years I thought I 
 was his wife and was happy. Six months after 
 Dick was born he married your mother, then I 
 learned what I was. I upbraided him for his 
 treachery ; and when I threatened to come to Cole- 
 ville and expose him, he struck me down with Dick 
 in my arms. The blow and my trouble brought on 
 brain fever and I was at death's door for weeks. 
 The child was injured by the fall and made a crip- 
 ple for life. It made of him what you see him 
 to-day. Your father supported us during his life 
 on condition that I would hold my tongue and 
 never set foot in Coleville again. I obeyed his 
 mandates until the day of my mother's death, 
 which occurred the same day your father was shot. 
 The news of his death brought on a shock from 
 which she died. She was the only one, except 
 Mark Gibson, who knew that Dick Cole was the 
 father of my child. Your father was to have 
 made provisions for us, for Dick and me, before
 
 330 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 his death; but even there he failed to keep his 
 promise. Now do you understand why I say you 
 must reinstate him? He is your father's son; and 
 if justice were meted out, we, Dick and I, would 
 not be outcasts to-day. For in the sight of God 
 I am Richard Cole's lawful widow. Your mother 
 bears his name and may weep for him in public, 
 while I, who loved him with all my young heart 
 and soul, must hide my head in shame. No, I 
 have no right to weep for him in public ; but I can 
 curse him in my heart; and will as long as life 
 remains ! " 
 
 She paused for breath and stood panting before 
 him, waiting for him to speak. Swayed by the 
 intensity of her passion, her voice had increased in 
 pitch and vehemence; and her sentences had come 
 in short, disjointed gasps. 
 
 He stood just where he had risen ; not a muscle 
 of his face changed, though he grew ghastly pale 
 during the recital of his father's infamy and of 
 her wrongs. He gazed at her in a sort of numb 
 amazement as she proceeded. Even when she 
 ceased to speak, he simply stood and stared at her. 
 She waited several seconds ; but he did not speak ; 
 he did not move. Whether the unspeakable suf- 
 fering depicted in his eyes appealed to the wom- 
 anly instincts of her soul is not known ; but a shade 
 of pity swept across her face and her voice was 
 tremulously tender when she spoke again: 
 
 " God knows I did not want to take this step. 
 I did not wish to pain you. You are not to blame
 
 ROBERT RECEIVES A CALL 331 
 
 for your father's sins any more than Dick is. 
 But what else could I do? I must save Dick! 
 And this was my only recourse. I don't ask you 
 to acknowledge him as your brother. I don't ask 
 you to keep him. I only ask you to help him; to 
 give him his work back. When he is not working, 
 he is drunk all the time; and while the liquor is 
 in him he is more like a wild animal than a human 
 being. It is impossible to control him at such 
 times, for he has inherited his father's temper. 
 You must help Dick ! " 
 
 " Madam, I don't believe a word of all this 
 trash!" broke in Robert, suddenly coming to his 
 senses and bringing his clenched fist down on the 
 desk with a tremendous bang. " It is a calumny 
 on the dead! and I don't want to hear another 
 word!" 
 
 " Of course you don't ! " she said sneeringly, 
 again taking a defensive attitude. This time, 
 however, there was no anger in her voice. Her 
 words were cold and calculating. " Your old dad 
 was such a paragon of a father up on the hill 
 yonder that it would be impossible to convince you 
 of his villainy did I not happen to have tangible 
 proof. As luck would have it, I have my marriage 
 certificate. True, it is only a bogus one ; but it 
 served your father's purpose in the beginning, 
 and it will serve mine in the end. Besides, I have 
 a peck of the most delicious love letters ever writ- 
 ten by any man to his lady love and later to his 
 girl wife. Your father offered me fifty thousand
 
 332 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 dollars for them at one time ; but I refused to sell. 
 Oh, you needn't believe me," she continued taunt- 
 ingly as she noted the look of incredulity that set- 
 tled on his face. " I won't ask you to believe me. 
 Ask Mark Gibson; he was your father's confiden- 
 tial go-between during all those years that your 
 father was building up his reputation as a model 
 husband, father, and all-round goody-goody man 
 in Coleville and vicinity. Mark Gibson ! " she 
 called, turning to the door. 
 
 Her call was unnecessary, for Mark already 
 stood in the doorway. From his position at the 
 desk he had heard every word that had passed be- 
 tween them. He had waited to hear his own name 
 spoken. He knew it would come and that he must 
 be ready to answer. When it came, he slid quietly 
 down from his stool, glided to the open door, where 
 his tall, thin form towered above her when she 
 turned to accost him. 
 
 " Is all this true? " demanded Robert in choking 
 tones, looking appealingly into Mark's sallow, 
 mask-like face. 
 
 " Yes ! " came in an aspirated voice. It was all 
 he could say, for his lips and throat were parched 
 and dry. His eyes dropped before the look of 
 loathing that suddenly swept across Robert's pale 
 face, and he stood like a culprit awaiting his doom. 
 
 For a moment dead silence reigned in the room ; 
 then Robert tottered and sank limply back into his 
 chair, and folding his arms on his desk and drop- 
 ping his head on them, he burst into tears.
 
 ROBERT RECEIVES A CALL 
 
 Mark waited only a second ere he found his 
 voice. Turning to Nell, he said scathingly: 
 
 " I hope you are satisfied now, now that you 
 have blasted another life ! " And wheeling about 
 ere she could answer, he strode across the narrow 
 space, through the gate, and took his stand at the 
 window looking out on the green. 
 
 Nell followed slowly. She saw her work was 
 done, that she must leave the rest in the hands of 
 Mark Gibson as she had done on many another 
 occasion. She knew the loyalty of Mark Gibson 
 to his employer; and she knew also that his being 
 loyal to one did not hinder his being just to an- 
 other. She paused as she neared the outer door 
 and addressed Mark, whose back was towards 
 her. 
 
 " Mark, if you will induce him to reinstate Dick, 
 give him something to do so that he can support 
 himself after I am gone, my secret shall be buried 
 with me, and only we three shall ever be the wiser. 
 I promise you this ! " 
 
 He did not answer, neither did he give any sign 
 that he had even heard her. The sobs from the 
 inner room had ceased and an oppressive silence 
 hung upon the air. After waiting a moment and 
 receiving no answer, she opened the door softly 
 and with slow and languid steps passed out. 
 
 As soon as she had gone, Mark glided to the 
 door and turned the key, and then retraced his 
 steps to the inner office where Robert still sat with 
 bowed head. Approaching him and laying his
 
 334. THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 hand kindly on his shoulder, Mark said encour- 
 agingly* 
 
 " Come, Robert, be a man ! " 
 
 Robert sprang to his feet as though stung by 
 an asp, and facing his lifelong friend and adviser, 
 he blazed forth: 
 
 " And you knew all this and didn't tell me ! 
 You, whom I have trusted, and loved next to my 
 father! O Mark, Mark, knowing this how can I 
 ever look the world in the face again! And my 
 father, whom I considered the soul of honor; how 
 could he stoop to such a dishonorable course ! " 
 Running his fingers through his hair, he clasped 
 his hands across his head and began pacing the 
 floor like one in distraction. 
 
 Mark stood helplessly by. He could find no 
 words that would either soothe or appease such a 
 state of mind as Robert was laboring under. Be- 
 sides, he felt his own humiliated position too keenly 
 to attempt any palliation of the offence. 
 
 " And that drunken sot ! How can I ever ac- 
 knowledge him as of my blood ! " he broke forth 
 again in tones of loathing. 
 
 " You need not acknowledge him," ventured 
 Mark. " You have only to reinstate him, pay him 
 his wages, and everything will go on as before. 
 She has promised this, and I know she will keep 
 her word." 
 
 " No, Mark, you are mistaken ! Things can 
 never go on as before ! If this story is true 
 and I have every reason to believe it is, for I have
 
 ROBERT RECEIVES A CALL 335 
 
 seen my father's likeness in Dick's face more than 
 once, and have wondered at it if it is true, I 
 must try and undo some of the wrong my father 
 has done to this woman. I recall a scene which 
 took place between you and her at my father's 
 casket on the day of the funeral. I meant to ask 
 you about it at the time, but it slipped my mind. 
 I understand it now." 
 
 He grew calmer. After taking one or two more 
 turns across the room, he threw himself into his 
 chair; and motioning Mark to the seat Nell had 
 occupied but a little while before, he said, 
 
 " I want you to tell me the whole story. Sit 
 down there and let me have the truth, no matter 
 how hard it hits. Then I can decide my proper 
 course of action." 
 
 Mark dropped into the chair and began in a 
 choking voice. It was evident he spoke with re- 
 luctance, for he hemmed and hawed and moved 
 uneasily in his seat several times before he really 
 found himself, as though ashamed of the part he 
 himself had played in the affair. 
 
 " Nell told you the vital parts of her story, and 
 there is so little more to tell that I hardly know 
 where to begin. Perhaps if I tell you that Nell 
 Stanton at the age of sixteen was the prettiest and 
 the daintiest bit of humanity in the village, you 
 may understand something of your father's infatu- 
 ation for her. The young men fairly tumbled over 
 themselves to get a smile from her; but she turned 
 her nose up at them all. Your father was over
 
 forty years of age at the time. He had been dis- 
 appointed in an early love affair, of which you 
 got an inkling at the trial of Frank Bent ; and for 
 years he had not looked at a girl. He was rated 
 as a confirmed old bachelor, who thought of noth- 
 ing but his business. Then all at once he took a 
 fancy to Nellie Stanton, whom he met at church 
 and at Sunday School. He became infatuated 
 with the girl, and she with him. But he was so 
 much older than she that he hesitated to pay her 
 court; and his former experience in love making 
 filled him with dread lest the villagers should laugh 
 at him and guy him. But his passion led him on ; 
 and after several months of clandestine wooing, 
 he made it up with Nell to go to Boston and get 
 married on the sly. The marriage, however, was 
 to be kept secret until your father got ready to 
 announce it. All of a sudden, Nell left the village 
 and the report was circulated that she had gone to 
 Boston as governess in some wealthy family. 
 That was all the villagers knew. 
 
 " The marriage took place in good faith. Nell 
 was set up in a home of her own, and your father 
 spent most of his week ends with her for nearly 
 two years ; then his passion began to cool. About 
 this time he met your mother and saw wherein he 
 had made a mistake in marrying Nell, who had 
 nothing to attract him but a pretty face and 
 figure. Then he suddenly discovered that no mar- 
 riage had taken place between him and Nell; that 
 the man who performed the ceremony was only a
 
 ROBERT RECEIVES A CALL 337 
 
 clerk in the office of the justice with whom your 
 father had arranged for the marriage, and who 
 had played the part of justice as a sort of lark. 
 Your father either didn't have the courage to tell 
 Nell, or didn't want to break with her right away, 
 so he continued his relations with her and did not 
 tell her of the bogus marriage until after he mar- 
 ried your mother. Then his troubles began, and 
 I was let into the secret and made the messenger 
 between them. 
 
 " Dick was about a year old at the time, as 
 healthy a little fellow as ever lived. Nell was 
 pretty hard to manage, for she was a good girl and 
 felt her disgrace keenly. She threatened to come 
 to the village with her child and expose your fa- 
 ther's perfidy. She insisted that he had duped 
 her; that he knew the marriage was bogus from 
 the first. She had her certificate of marriage and 
 also many letters in which he had addressed her as 
 wife, and she held them as a lash over his head. 
 She would not part with them for any price. 
 Your father finally decided to visit her himself and 
 force her to give them up to him. Hot words 
 passed between them and she sprang at him. He 
 lost his temper and struck her down with the child 
 in her arms and left her. The next day he sent 
 me up and I found Nell and the child just where 
 he had struck them down. I had them removed to 
 the hospital where they were taken care of; but 
 it was a long time ere they recovered ; but for all 
 her suffering she never divulged her secret until
 
 338 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 to-day. When the child was well enough to leave 
 the hospital, old Mrs. Stanton brought him home. 
 Of course his coming created gossip about Nell, 
 but your father's name was never mentioned. Old 
 Mrs. Stanton had her suspicions of your father 
 when Nell went away, but she could never get at 
 the facts in the case. Dick was reared as her own 
 child; and to this day Dick thinks Nell is his 
 sister. 
 
 " Your father made Nell a monthly allowance 
 up to the time of his death. Out of this allowance 
 she kept herself and the family, after a fashion. 
 Since your father's death I have helped her several 
 times, because she is not strong, for she never fully 
 recovered from that blow. Besides, my sympathy 
 has been with her from the first. That is all ; she 
 has told you the rest." 
 
 " My God, Mark ! why did you not tell me this 
 before? " cried Robert from the depth of his tor- 
 tured soul. 
 
 "How could I? I was pledged to secrecy." 
 
 " What is to be done ? " asked Robert, as though 
 groping for light. 
 
 " Simply give way to the demands of the men ; 
 reinstate Dick, and let matters go on as before," 
 was Mark's sagacious advice. 
 
 " And if I refuse? " 
 
 " In that case there is no telling to what lengths 
 Nell Stanton may go. She is ill and desperate. 
 She might even tell Dick ; then there would be the 
 devil to pay."
 
 ROBERT RECEIVES A CALL 339 
 
 "And what of it?" 
 
 "What of it?" repeated Mark, staggered at 
 Robert's coolness. 
 
 " Yes, what of it ? " again questioned Robert 
 doggedly. " Sooner or later it is bound to come 
 out. Why not now as well as at any other time? 
 If I must bear the sins of my father, would it not 
 be better to bear them openly than to submit to 
 the tyranny of a secret extortion ? " 
 
 "But your mother and Bell? Have you 
 thought of them?" 
 
 Robert's face fell and his eyes dropped under 
 the stinging rebuke of Mark's voice. After a mo- 
 ment's silence he raised his head with a startled air 
 and leaning forward asked, 
 
 " Do you suppose this woman had anything to 
 do with my father's death ? " 
 
 " No. So far as I can judge, she could have 
 had nothing to do with it. In fact, I have almost 
 come to the conclusion that your father's death 
 was the result of an accident rather than of a 
 deliberate murder." 
 
 " How ? " asked Robert greedily. 
 
 " My theory is that some boy prowling along 
 the stream saw Frank's gun, and probably took 
 it up and began monkeying with it and it went off 
 accidentally in his hands just as your father came 
 down the hill. Of course the boy would be 
 frightened out of his wits and would make tracks 
 for cover; and it isn't likely that he would ever 
 tell on himself when he found what had happened."
 
 " Perhaps you are right in your surmises," 
 said Robert thoughtfully, " but I wish we could 
 clear up the mystery ; not only for our own peace 
 of mind, but for the sake of Frank Bent and his 
 family. Poor Frank will never be the same till 
 this case is cleared up." 
 
 He turned away with a sigh and Mark was glad 
 that he did not press the matter further. Push- 
 ing his chair back and rising from the desk, he 
 began pacing the floor with a restless step. After 
 several turns he said in rather dejected tones, 
 
 " That will do, Mark. I wish to be alone to 
 settle this for myself." 
 
 Mark bowed in acquiescence, rose, and left the 
 room in silence.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 THE MYSTERY IS SOLVED 
 
 When Nell Stanton left the office she hurried 
 along towards her home, hoping to avoid the 
 watchful eyes of the pickets whom she knew to be 
 on guard at every corner of the grounds. But 
 her hopes were vain ; for she had been seen to en- 
 ter the office and word had gone forth and a close 
 watch had been placed on the door to herald her 
 return. 
 
 As a matter of common surmise her visit to the 
 office was understood by the pickets to be in re- 
 lation to the reinstatement of Dick ; and naturally, 
 they were, one and all, anxious to learn the re- 
 sults. Word had been sent to Dick at the tavern 
 and he had come swaggering home as fast as his 
 rum-tottering little legs could carry him. He 
 too was anxious to hear the answer to her peti- 
 tion. Dick had a mighty high opinion of Nell's 
 ability to plead his cause. He had always held 
 her in the greatest respect. In fact, he rather 
 stood in awe of her. She was the only person 
 who had ever had any control over his wild, un- 
 tamable nature. It was, therefore, with a stretch 
 
 of pride, not unmingled with triumph, that he 
 
 341
 
 342 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 received the news of Nell's intercession in his be- 
 half for what else could her visit to the office 
 mean ? 
 
 He had not been home since early Saturday 
 morning, having spent the intervening time in 
 keeping the men in line to do his bidding, with 
 headquarters at his uncle's tavern. Nell had tried 
 to persuade him to accept his discharge and let 
 the matter drop for the time being; but he was 
 obdurate. Hot words followed, and he had taken 
 himself off in high dudgeon, swearing that he 
 would bring her to her senses before he returned. 
 Nevertheless, there was a sneaking fear in his 
 heart that she would be the master. 
 
 Now he felt he had won. A couple of days 
 had brought her round to his support. Nell had 
 espoused his cause. She had gone to Robert Cole, 
 and she would win where others had failed. All 
 the way home these thoughts danced through his 
 rum-crazed brain and he laughed aloud in fiendish 
 delight. When he reached the house he pushed 
 the door open and called her name. He wanted 
 to make sure whether she had returned from her 
 mission. Getting no response, he entered boldly 
 and swung himself up into his chair at the table. 
 
 Nell had prepared his breakfast and set the 
 table as usual that morning, hoping that he would 
 come home. She had watched for him and from 
 their cottage window had seen him swagger up 
 the road. She had witnessed the noisy demonstra- 
 tion in front of the office and quailed with fright
 
 THE MYSTERY IS SOLVED 343 
 
 at the thought of what might happen if the mob 
 spirit of that half tipsy throng should be roused 
 and get beyond control. Later her blood boiled 
 with indignation as she saw those great Titan- 
 like men shoulder Dick and take up their march 
 in the direction of her uncle's tavern. It was 
 this act on the part of the men which had been 
 the impelling force in her decision to appeal to 
 Robert in behalf of Dick; for somehow, the idea 
 that her poor, deformed, and despised offspring 
 was simply a tool in the hands of these men, took 
 possession of her. She felt that they cared little 
 whether he was reinstated or not, so long as they 
 could carouse at his expense. 
 
 As Nell hastened along on her way home from 
 the office she was in a peculiar state of mind. 
 She was angry at herself for the step she had 
 taken. She felt that after all she had gained 
 nothing, but had lost much in blasting the memory 
 of him she had loved in the eyes of his son. At 
 the corner of the street she was suddenly sur- 
 rounded by several of the pickets, who questioned 
 her as to her success with the boss. She was in 
 no mood to brook their interference and they saw 
 their mistake instantly. She drew herself up 
 haughtily, and with blazing eyes waved them aside 
 without deigning an answer to their questions, 
 and passed on. The men looked at each other in 
 abashed silence and stood watching her until she 
 disappeared under the vine-covered porch of her 
 home.
 
 344. THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 When she entered the house she was confronted 
 with a sight that turned her sick at heart. Dick 
 was seated at the table with a partly consumed 
 bottle of whiskey raised to his lips in the act of 
 pouring what remained down his thirsty throat. 
 The remnants of his breakfast were scattered over 
 the floor and the table and down the beer-stained 
 front of his shirt bosom. His head was tipped so 
 far back into the hollow of his neck, and he was 
 so deeply engrossed in sampling the contents of 
 the bottle, that he neither saw nor heard her en- 
 ter the room. 
 
 " Well ! " She had gained the very edge of the 
 table ere she spoke. 
 
 Down came the bottle to the table with a dull 
 thud. A look of fear flashed across his face as 
 he looked up and met the blaze of her angry eyes. 
 It was a case of when Greek meets Greek. In- 
 stantly he seemed to recover his nerve; and he 
 leered up into her face with an impish wink that 
 exasperated her almost beyond forbearance. 
 
 "Well, Sis, and what news from the boss? I 
 suppose you've settled the whole d d question 
 once for all time. He surely couldn't refuse my 
 lady sister." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " she demanded sharply. 
 
 " Mean ? " And he grinned knowingly. " Ah, 
 come on now! Did you think you could get in 
 and out of that office without my hearing of it? 
 Come, out with it! what's the answer? Am I to 
 get my position back ? "
 
 THE MYSTERY IS SOLVED 345 
 
 " No ! " It was all she could say, for a flood 
 of disgust swept over her soul and choked her 
 as she looked at the besotted being to whom she 
 had given life and nurture. 
 
 " So that is his answer still, is it? Then he 
 had better have a care, or I may fix him as I fixed 
 his bloody old father ! " he threatened with a vi- 
 cious scowl, bringing his clenched fist down on the 
 table with a bang that set the dishes a-rattling. 
 
 Nell had turned away and was about to enter 
 the bedroom when his threat caught her ear. 
 Whirling quickly, she was again at the table, 
 standing over him, and trembling from head to 
 foot. 
 
 " What's that you say? " she demanded. 
 
 " Oh, nothing," he replied with a malignant 
 wink up into her face ; " can't a man talk to him- 
 self if he wants to? " 
 
 " If he knew what he's talking about he may ; 
 otherwise he had better keep his tongue still," 
 she warned him. 
 
 " Ha ! ha, ha," he laughed uproariously. " I 
 guess I know what I'm talking about. I think I 
 could pick him off as neatly as I did his old ty- 
 rant of a dad. And say, Sis, they never even sus- 
 pected me of doing that pretty job, did they?" 
 And again he burst into a roar of drunken laugh- 
 ter; and reaching for the bottle, he raised it to 
 his lips. But ere a drop of the fiery liquid reached 
 his drooling mouth Nell had snatched the bottle 
 from his hand and dashed it to the floor, and was
 
 346 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 towering over him with a look of unspeakable 
 horror in her eyes. 
 
 " In the name of heaven, Dick, what are you 
 talking about?" she asked, slowly, trying to 
 steady herself by grasping the table. 
 
 Dick was now in that babbling stage of intoxi- 
 cation that brings out the boastful in man. He 
 saw the horror in Nell's eyes and seemed to take 
 special delight in her torture. After a moment's 
 silence, he looked up into her face with the most 
 perfect sang-froid and asked, 
 
 " I never told you how neatly I peppered old 
 man Cole, did I?" 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " That only shows how well I can keep a secret," 
 he laughed. " Sit down then and I'll tell you all 
 about it." 
 
 She obeyed by dropping into a chair in her 
 own accustomed place at the table, where she 
 could watch every change of his features ; and 
 folding her arms across the edge of the table, she 
 leaned heavily forward and waited his pleasure, 
 knowing he would take his own time to begin. 
 
 Nothing pleased Dick more, whether drunk or 
 sober, than to have Nell sit down and listen to 
 him. She was the only woman he had ever con- 
 sidered worth while talking to. He was so open 
 and frank in his admiration for her that she often 
 wondered whether he might not have been differ- 
 ent in character had she kept him with her and 
 told him the truth and trained him in her own
 
 way. But as she sat before him now, waiting for 
 him to tell her what she dreaded to hear, no ma- 
 ternal spark thrilled her soul. She was filled with 
 a terrible fear and a loathing. 
 
 At last he began. She heard his voice as if 
 coming from a long distance. He told her of 
 how Mr. Cole had come upon him that day in the 
 meadow of the trout preserves; of how Mr. Cole 
 had struck him with his whip and cursed him ; 
 and of how he had thrown the pail with the trout 
 in it at Mr. Cole and then walked away. 
 
 " After that," he went on, " I was so devilish 
 mad I didn't care where I went as long as I got 
 away from old man Cole. I reached the highway 
 and at last found myself up at Sunny Brook. 
 I crossed the bridge and then I heard the clatter 
 of hoofs and thought the old man was sure after 
 me again ; so I ran for dear life and crept through 
 the fence into the Bent grounds and hid behind 
 the bushes just in time to escape his seeing me. 
 He rode on up to the house and I stole out from 
 my hiding-place and was going off when I heard 
 him coming back. Somehow I thought he had 
 been up there to tell old lady Bent that I was on 
 her grounds, and I grew wild. Just then I saw 
 the gun and snatching it up, I aimed it at the fly- 
 ing horse and pulled the trigger. Then I set the 
 gun back and crept down under the bridge and 
 along the brookside till I reached the river. The 
 brook is shallow at that point and I had no diffi- 
 culty in wading across. Once on the river's bank,
 
 348 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 I knew I was safe; so I took my time in walking 
 back to the village. Of course I didn't know that 
 I had killed old Cole; but I was so raging mad 
 that I didn't care a cuss. Just as I was climbing 
 over the bridge in the village, Mark Gibson came 
 along and told me that the old man was dead. 
 Mark seemed so mightily cut up over it that for 
 a moment I felt sorry, just for Mark's sake; for 
 you know Mark has always been mighty good to 
 us. I walked as far as the corner with Mark, 
 then I left him and came home and told Mother 
 that I had shot old man Cole ; and she just dropped 
 down on the floor and never spoke again." 
 
 He paused ; and taking a flask of whisky from 
 his inside pocket, he raised it to his lips and gulped 
 down a mouthful. Nell made no effort to prevent 
 him from draining the bottle if he chose. She 
 sat as if stupefied, pale and wild-eyed. He 
 reached over and touched her hand. She sprang 
 to her feet as if a wasp had stung her. 
 
 " You devil incarnate ! " she cried, catching 
 him by the shoulders and shaking him furiously. 
 " Richard Cole was your father, and you have 
 murdered him ! " 
 
 " My father ! " he gasped, sobering up some- 
 what under her shaking. 
 
 " Yes, your father ! " she raged. " And you 
 might as well hear the whole story now. Richard 
 Cole was your father, and I am," she hesitated, 
 " your mother ! " she finished more slowly, sink- 
 ing back into her chair from sheer exhaustion.
 
 THE MYSTERY IS SOLVED 349 
 
 For several seconds there was dead silence. At 
 last, having grasped the full significance of her 
 words, he leaned towards her and said in cold, 
 stinging tones, 
 
 " So that in addition to all my other natural 
 endowments I can boast of being a bastard?" 
 There was a depth of bitterness in his voice that 
 would be hard to analyze; a bitterness that re- 
 vealed to her more than anything he had ever 
 said how keenly he had felt his deformity, and 
 also, how keenly he now felt the degradation of 
 his birth. He seemed perfectly sober now as he 
 sat stiff and grim before her. 
 
 She felt the sting of his reproach and sank 
 back into her chair. She wished she had not told 
 him. It was a trying moment for her, after all 
 her past sufferings, to sit there and wait for the 
 condemnation she did not deserve. When he spoke 
 again his manner frightened her: 
 
 " So old man Cole was my dad? I'll have a 
 drink on that." And raising the flask which he 
 still held in his hand to his lips, he took a long 
 draught of its fiery contents. " And you are my 
 mother? I'll have another drink on that." And 
 again the flask went to his lips. " Then Bob 
 Cole must be my brother," he said as the flask 
 came down from his mouth. " My brother, damn 
 him! And he refuses to give me a measly job 
 in the mill yard ! Well by G d, I'll not take his 
 old job now! I'll go down and dictate my own 
 terms to him. I'll have a place in the office at a
 
 360 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 good fat salary; and then I shall not have to 
 sell beer to keep me like a gentleman, as I should 
 be kept. If he dares to refuse my terms, I'll send 
 him to h 1 after his old dad! I should have 
 said, ' our dad.' " He dwelt sneeringly on the 
 " our." 
 
 At that moment a shout was heard from with- 
 out, and Dick scrambled down from his chair, 
 and snatching up his cap, made for the door. 
 Nell caught his arm and pleaded : 
 
 " Don't go yet, Dick ! I want to explain some 
 things to you; and you are not in a condition to 
 go out. You are wasting your energy traipsing 
 through the town as you have been doing. You 
 will be down sick again before you know the limit 
 of your strength, and then " 
 
 She got no further, for Dick turned on her like 
 a tiger. 
 
 " You bloody strumpet ! who are you talking 
 to ! " he gritted through his teeth ; and drawing 
 off a pace, he dealt her a blow with his clenched 
 fist that felled her to the floor; and without so 
 much as a side glance at her prostrate form, he 
 staggered out to the waiting throng in the road 
 below. 
 
 A cheer greeted his appearance; but he made 
 no response to their salutations. It is doubtful 
 whether he saw the waving caps or heard more 
 than an indistinct murmur of the sea of voices 
 that swelled on the breeze. With his cap pulled 
 well down over his eyes, he looked neither to the
 
 THE MYSTERY IS SOLVED 351 
 
 right nor to the left as he zigzagged into their 
 midst, waving his long arms and muttering in- 
 coherently as the crowd bore him on towards the 
 main gateway. 
 
 The whistle had sounded forth its invitation to 
 all who wished to return to work ; and the gates 
 stood invitingly open. As in the morning, the 
 workmen assembled their fighting forces on the 
 green directly in front of the office. But when 
 they attempted to place Dick on the bench, as they 
 had done heretofore, he resented their freedom 
 with a fury that sent many of them sprawling to 
 the ground with a suddenness quite unlocked for. 
 
 " Stand back ! " shouted Dick, striking out 
 right and left as he struggled through the open- 
 ing ranks. " This is my fight ! and by hell, I'll 
 fight it out in my own way ! " 
 
 By this time he was on the outer edge of the 
 crowd, staggering towards the office door. The 
 crowd held back to the edge of the green in surly 
 silence, for they had suddenly realized that he was 
 crazy drunk and they had no desire to incur his 
 ill-will just at this time. Approaching the door, 
 he tried to open it, but it would not yield to his 
 efforts. Then he rapped and waited ; and the 
 crowd also waited. 
 
 Within the office Mark Gibson sat at his desk 
 as usual. From his vantage he could see all that 
 was going on outside without being seen himself. 
 Robert was still in the inner office wrestling with 
 the problems that confronted him. So far as he
 
 352 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 himself was concerned, it would have been a very 
 easy matter to settle the whole question once for 
 all time. But there was Bell and his mother to 
 be taken into account. It was his duty to protect 
 them ; and, so far as he could, to protect the mem- 
 ory of his father from disgrace. So that, dis- 
 tasteful as it was to his noble spirit, he had about 
 made up his mind to surrender to the inevitable 
 and reinstate Dick. He came into the main office 
 with rather a dejected air to inform Mark of his 
 decision ; but ere he could speak, his attention was 
 attracted by a terrific pounding on the office door. 
 
 "What's up?" he asked, glancing in the di- 
 rection of the door. "Is the door locked?" 
 
 " Yes," answered Mark. " I locked it for self- 
 protection. It's Dick who is knocking at the 
 door. He's drunk and crazy as a loon ! " 
 
 " Then I'll let him in and talk to him. I see 
 I shall have to back down ; and I might as well 
 do it first as last." Saying which, he walked over 
 to the door and opened it. 
 
 Dick stood on the step as Robert opened the 
 door and appeared on the threshold. At sight 
 of him, Dick shrank back a pace, and a hush fell 
 over the assemblage, which argued well for Rob- 
 ert. But the moment he attempted to speak, his 
 voice was drowned in a howl of cat-calls, groans, 
 hisses, and cries of " Give us our rights ! " and 
 " Down with tyrants ! " while a menacing display 
 of clenched, burly fists rose high over a mass of 
 angry faces.
 
 THE MYSTERY IS SOLVED 353 
 
 Robert stood his ground manfully, and without 
 the quiver of a muscle waited for the tumult to 
 cease. Looking into the faces of the men whom he 
 had befriended in many ways, he appealed mutely 
 to their sense of justice. But he might as well 
 have appealed to the waves of the ocean to pause 
 in their eternal roll across the sands. Unfortu- 
 nately, Robert had overlooked the nearness of 
 Dick, who had braced himself against the jamb 
 of the door directly under Robert's elbow. His 
 eyes were fixed on Robert's face with a malignant 
 gleam. At last Robert seemed to see him for the 
 first time. 
 
 " Why, hello, Dick," said Robert, looking down 
 on the half crouching form with a pitying glance. 
 " You are just the chap I want to see. Come 
 in and I'll have a talk with you." 
 
 But the perversity of Dick's nature was roused. 
 A fierce hatred was burning in his soul. He was 
 at enmity with all the world. He hated Nell ; he 
 hated Robert and all belonging to him ; and he 
 hated himself more than all else. 
 
 " Well, and I've got a few words to say to you ; 
 but I can say them just as well here as anywhere," 
 he snarled; "and first, I want to tell you that it 
 was I who killed your old father I mean our old 
 father and I mean to kill you ! " 
 
 Instantly there was a flash, a report, then sev- 
 eral shots in quick succession, and Robert was seen 
 to reel backward into the arms of Mark Gibson, 
 who had sprung forward at the first shot.
 
 354 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 The crowd shrank back in horror when the men 
 realized what had happened. Cries of " Lynch 
 him ! Lynch him ! " filled the air ; but no one 
 dared approach to carry out the command. 
 Dick faced the crowd with his devil-may-care 
 laugh and brandished the smoking revolver in the 
 air. The crowd fell farther back and an ominous 
 silence settled over it. Something in the white 
 faces of those nearest to him caused the laugh 
 to die in his lips. For an instant he looked into 
 their faces, as if seeking their approbation. 
 Whether the gravity of his wanton deed dawned 
 upon his rum-crazed brain and struck him, with 
 remorse, or whether he detected a movement on the 
 part of the crowd to hem him in, will never be 
 known ; but certain it is that his face suddenly 
 reflected the terror of those about him, and a 
 horrible fear seemed to seize him. His face turned 
 ghastly ; his eyes seemed to start from their sock- 
 ets ; and a shudder passed over his bulky frame. 
 The crowd began to move slowly towards him and 
 seemed preparing for a rush; when suddenly he 
 turned the still smoking revolver on himself, and 
 the next instant he lay writhing across the office 
 steps, while a trickle of blood marked the course 
 of the bullet. 
 
 At the moment Dick fell, Mr. Lunt and Dr. St. 
 John had succeeded in pushing their way through 
 the crowd. Up to the moment of the shooting 
 they, with Dr. Craig, had been watching the 
 demonstration from the steps of the post office.
 
 THE MYSTERY IS SOLVED 855 
 
 They saw Robert come to the door and watched 
 for the effect. The old doctor gave an angry 
 snort when the crowd began to j eer ; and Dr. Craig 
 muttered something that sounded very much like 
 an oath. Then came the report of the revolver. 
 They saw the puff of smoke, and then Robert sink 
 back in the doorway. 
 
 "My God! Robert is shot!" cried Dr. St. 
 John, trembling with excitement. " Run to the 
 house, Craig, and bring down my case and band- 
 ages and meet me at the office. Come, Lunt, there 
 is something for you to do at last ! " And while 
 he was yet speaking, they were pushing their way 
 through the crowd. 
 
 Reaching the office, the doctor stepped over the 
 writhing form of Dick and burst into the room 
 just as Mark had laid the heavy form of Robert 
 on the floor. The doctor gave one glance at the 
 white face of Robert and then, as if by magic, his 
 excitement subsided and the professional man was 
 very much in evidence. Throwing off his coat, 
 he gave his orders to Mark as he bent over the 
 wounded man. He made a hurried examination 
 and found that three bullets had taken effect ; that 
 while neither in itself was fatal, the three together 
 made an ugly case. Robert was still unconscious 
 when Dr. Craig arrived with his surgical appli- 
 ances ; but he opened his eyes at the first probe 
 of the instrument, gazed about with a questioning 
 stare, and immediately sank back into oblivion. 
 
 Meanwhile, Mr. Lunt had taken charge of Dick
 
 356 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 Stanton, and held the infuriated crowd at bay. 
 Frank Bent and Mr. Hall, hearing of what had 
 happened, worked their way to the side of Mr. 
 Lunt and offered their services. Mr. Lunt wanted 
 Dick carried inside. Frank beckoned several men 
 whom he knew he could trust ; and in a few mo- 
 ments Dick was lying on the floor of the office 
 beside his victim. 
 
 While Dr. St. John worked over Robert, with 
 the assistance of Mark, Dr. Craig gave his at- 
 tention to Dick. In a few moments Dick's eyes 
 sprang open and rested on the face of Frank 
 Bent, who was kneeling beside him smoothing the 
 matted hair back from the damp forehead. A 
 shiver passed over his misshapen frame and for a 
 moment he writhed in agony as he fixed his eyes 
 on Frank's face. 
 
 " Frank ! " His voice was weak. 
 
 " Yes, Dick," answered Frank kindly. 
 
 " Am I dying? " he asked pitifully. 
 
 " I don't know, Dick ; but you are desperately 
 wounded. Why did you do it? " 
 
 " Because I couldn't stand it any longer, 
 Frank." He closed his eyes for a second while 
 his face contorted with pain. When the pain 
 eased up he opened his eyes and gazing up into 
 Frank's face said, " If you'll promise not to de- 
 sert me till the end, I'll tell you something." A 
 spasm of pain again convulsed him. 
 
 " I will stand by you till the end, Dick ! " he 
 promised.
 
 THE MYSTERY IS SOLVED S57 
 
 " It was I who shot old man Cole ! " 
 Another spasm shook his frame, and he gasped 
 for breath. 
 
 " For heaven's sake, Doctor, give him some- 
 thing to stimulate him ! " cried Frank, lifting the 
 dying man's head up against his knee. 
 
 The doctor poured a spoonful of brandy down 
 his throat, and the convulsion passed off. 
 
 " Now, Dick, tell us why and how you shot Mr. 
 Cole ! I mean Richard Cole ! " asked Frank. 
 Mr. Lunt and the doctor bent over to hear. 
 
 "I shot him with your gun. He struck 
 me on the face with his whip. I can 
 feel it now ! " he cried, suddenly raising his hand 
 and rubbing his cheek. " Don't you see the red 
 mark? Blast him!" 
 
 " But why did he strike you? " hungrily ques- 
 tioned Frank. 
 
 " He caught me seining his trout. But if 
 I'd only known what " Another spasm 
 checked him for the moment. 
 
 The doctor administered another spoonful of 
 brandy ; and again the dying man rallied. 
 
 " I want to tell you, Frank," he said 
 painfully, " that I am not such a wretch 
 as you may think ; for if you had been 
 convicted, I would have confessed then. I 
 would so help me God ! You believe 
 me ? don't you ? " And he turned his glassy 
 eyes up into Frank's face. 
 
 " Yes, I believe you, Dick ! " Frank replied in
 
 broken tones, while the tears streamed down his 
 cheeks. 
 
 " You always did believe me, Frank, 
 you and Nell were the only ones who ever 
 treated me as if I was human. Tell her I'm 
 sorry " He gasped, and all was over. 
 
 " Poor Dick ! " said Frank tenderly, as he laid 
 the poor, unfortunate one back on the floor. 
 " God will deal kindly with you, for you didn't 
 have a fair show from the beginning." 
 
 As Frank rose from his knees with tears in his 
 eyes, Mr. Lunt grasped him by the hand, and 
 shaking it heartily, said under his breath, 
 
 " Congratulations, Mr. Bent ; the mystery is at 
 last cleared up and you are doubly vindicated! 
 I have had my suspicions of Dick for over two 
 years." 
 
 Frank returned the pressure of his hand in 
 silence, for he was too much overcome to speak. 
 By this time Dr. St. John had made Robert as 
 comfortable as he could be made temporarily, and 
 had dispatched Mark with a message to Mrs. Cole 
 to get Robert's bed in readiness. 
 
 The crowd without waited in awed silence for 
 some word of Robert's condition. When Mark 
 stepped from the office door he was instantly sur- 
 rounded by a crowd of serious-faced men, who 
 anxiously inquired if Robert was alive. Mark 
 was in an ugly frame of mind; for he was nearly 
 distracted with grief and rage. He dared not 
 look at the inquisitors lest he should be tempted
 
 THE MYSTERY IS SOLVED 359 
 
 to throttle them in revenge for his young friend's 
 wrongs. He could not speak, so he merely shook 
 his head sorrowfully, waved them aside, and has- 
 tened on, leaving them to draw their own con- 
 clusions. 
 
 Immediately after Mark left the office, the gates 
 of the plant were closed by the watchman and a 
 feeling of gloom and anxiety, under an air of sub- 
 dued excitement, settled over the village.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 NELL STANTON'S LAST SACRIFICE 
 
 <in> hi tin MM vfms ,/*- ' f*<f (-. ^.-H-!;, '<> :v '{ * 
 
 As soon as safety permitted, Robert was car- 
 ried home and laid in his own bed. Dr. Craig 
 was installed as nurse; and Dr. St. John, who 
 insisted on remaining near his patient, was as- 
 signed a room leading off Robert's. 
 
 Mrs. Cole was prostrated with grief. Though 
 nearly broken-hearted herself, Bell held up with 
 wonderful fortitude, and divided her time between 
 consoling her mother and hanging over the un- 
 conscious form of Robert. 
 
 The bullets had been extracted, and though 
 weak from loss of blood, the doctor saw no reason 
 why Robert should not pull through all right. 
 But the hours of anxious waiting dragged slowly 
 on. Mrs. Cole grew impatient watching for some 
 sign of life in her loved one. Again she lived 
 over those terrible days of her husband's death. 
 Was she doomed to face another tragic death in 
 her family? Could she live through it? Her 
 grief was pitiable to see ; but she had loving hands 
 to soothe her sorrow, and hope to buoy her up. 
 
 But down in the little cottage at the farther 
 end of the town lay another mother, childless and 
 360
 
 NELL'S LAST SACRIFICE 361 
 
 alone, dry-eyed and hopeless. No kindred hand 
 stroked her head ; no kind voice whispered a word 
 of hope in her ear. The light, such as it was, 
 had gone out of her life forever; and the world 
 looked dark and desolate. This was Nell Stan- 
 ton, the mother of Dick, the author of all this 
 misery. God pity her! and pity all such mothers 
 who are left to face alone the ignominy of some- 
 body else's wrongdoing. And who can say that 
 God did not pity her? 
 
 It fell to the lot of Frank Bent to carry the 
 news of Dick's death to Nell Stanton. It was a 
 delicate task; but it was felt that he could do 
 it better than anyone else. When he reached the 
 house he found the door standing open, and Nell 
 lying almost across the threshold in a pool of 
 blood, and unconscious. 
 
 Beckoning to a group of women whom he had 
 passed at the corner of the lane leading to the 
 house, he entered, and lifting the limp form in his 
 strong arms, laid it gently on the lounge. By 
 this time the women were at his side, all curious 
 to know what had happened. 
 
 " It looks like a hemorrhage," was all he could 
 answer while attempting to stanch the flow of 
 blood that still oozed from between her white lips. 
 Directing one to call the doctor and another to 
 loosen her clothing, Frank applied such remedies 
 as were at hand till Dr. Craig arrived. 
 
 She revived shortly, and opening her large, dark 
 eyes, looked about in dismay. At last her eyes
 
 rested on Frank's face, and she shrank away from 
 him in terror. 
 
 " Don't be alarmed, Miss Stanton, everything is 
 all right ! " said Frank kindly, pressing her 
 emaciated hand. 
 
 Drawing her hand away, she whispered faintly, 
 
 "Dick where is he?" 
 
 " Don't bother about Dick now," chided the 
 doctor with a shade of impatience. " Think of 
 yourself. You have had a severe hemorrhage, and 
 you must not talk ! " And he laid his fingers ad- 
 monishingly on his lips. 
 
 " A hemorrhage," she repeated faintly while a 
 sad, sweet smile settled on her face, and closing 
 her eyes, she lay for sometime as if asleep. There 
 was no complaint ; and not a hint of Dick's brutal- 
 ity in striking her down passed her lips. 
 
 The doctor left, after giving strict injunctions 
 to the kind neighbor who had volunteered to re- 
 main with her for a while that she was not to be 
 disturbed, and was to be kept perfectly quiet. 
 
 An hour later her uncle Jack burst into the 
 house in a rage of righteous indignation and up- 
 braided her for the terrible disgrace she, through 
 her rattled-brained son, had brought upon the 
 name of Stanton; and ere the neighbor in charge 
 of the house could prevent, he had blurted out 
 the news of the murder and suicide. 
 
 With a bound Nell was on her feet, facing her 
 uncle like an outraged Niobe. She tried to speak,
 
 NELL'S LAST SACRIFICE 363 
 
 but no sound issued from her parted lips. For a 
 moment she stood thus, then swayed like a willow 
 sapling in the wind and sank into the arms of the 
 woman, who bore her back gently on the lounge, 
 and peremptorily ordered Jack from the house. 
 For hours she lay with closed eyes and hands 
 clasped on her breast, as if in prayer. Dick's 
 body was brought home, but she took no notice 
 of anything that went on about her. About six 
 o'clock she opened her eyes and called for Mark 
 Gibson. He was sent for and came immediately. 
 She dismissed the woman, saying that her business 
 with Mark was private. When they were alone 
 she turned to him and said in tones scarcely above 
 a whisper, 
 
 " Mark, I am sorry for what has happened 
 sorry that I told Robert sorry that I told Dick. 
 But being sorry won't bring them back; will it? " 
 She paused for breath. 
 
 He saw that she was laboring under the impres- 
 sion that Robert was dead ; and having heard how 
 serious her condition was, felt he had no right 
 to torture her, so he hastened to relieve her mind. 
 
 " Robert is not dead, Nell. He is severely 
 wounded, but his wounds are not necessarily fatal. 
 We have strong hopes of his recovery." 
 
 " Thank God ! " she breathed with a deep sigh 
 of relief. Then taking a key from about her neck 
 and handing it to Mark, she instructed him to 
 go into the next room and open her trunk and
 
 364 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 bring her a tin box which he would find at the bot- 
 tom of it. He left her and in a few minutes re- 
 turned with the box. 
 
 Handing him another key she bade him open 
 the box. He did so, and found it contained pack- 
 ages of letters, old and yellow with age. 
 
 " Those are the letters he wanted," she said 
 painfully, taking up a package. " I want you 
 to burn them, there in the stove, where I can 
 see you do it." She handed him the package as 
 she spoke. 
 
 He rose and without a word thrust some paper 
 into the stove, applied a match, and shook the 
 letters loose in the blaze. That Mark was deeply 
 affected was plain to see, for his hands trembled, 
 and several times he gulped down something that 
 rose in his throat and almost choked him. There 
 were five packages in all. Last she took up a 
 long blue envelope and drew forth a folded paper. 
 Handing it to him, she said sadly, 
 
 " That was my passport to heaven ; but it led 
 me to hell ! " 
 
 " May I read it," he asked in a choking voice. 
 
 " You may." 
 
 It was the bogus marriage certificate, which 
 Richard Cole would have given half his fortune 
 to get possession of. Mark read it through care- 
 fully and then crumpling it savagely in his hand, 
 thrust it into the stove and watched the flames 
 devour it. 
 
 During all this time Nell's eyes had scarcely
 
 NELL'S LAST SACRIFICE 365 
 
 left his face an instant. When his work was 
 finished he came and sat down beside her, and 
 laying his hand gently on her head, said ten- 
 derly, 
 
 " It is best that it should be so. You have 
 suffered much. God only knows why it was per- 
 mitted! Yet through it all you have been brave, 
 patient, and self-sacrificing; and this renuncia- 
 tion is the crowning sacrifice of your life. Re- 
 venge is petty in any case; but when it is aimed 
 at and hits the innocent, it is criminal. I may 
 have seemed a little hard at times, Nell, but it 
 was only because I was hard pushed. You know 
 the mischief was done before I came into the case ; 
 and all I could do was to stand in the breach to 
 prevent the wreckage of another home." 
 
 " I have nothing to complain of, Mark, so far 
 as you are concerned. Your position was not an 
 enviable one. You tried to be kind to me and to 
 shield him at the same time. You were bound to 
 work for his interest because he was your master, 
 as he was mine. Yet I trusted you ; and you 
 never failed me! And you will not fail me now! 
 You will still keep the confidence he placed in you. 
 When I am gone, and Robert gets well enough to 
 be told, tell him that all evidence is destroyed; 
 that only you and he in the whole world know 
 the secret. It rests with you two to guard it. 
 See to it that no blot attaches to his memory; 
 and that no unnecessary pang of pain is inflicted 
 on the innocent. You will do this ? "
 
 366 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " I will, if God spares me and him ! " prom- 
 ised Mark solemnly. 
 
 There was a rap at the door, and Mark hastened 
 to open it. It was Frank Bent and his grand- 
 mother, who had come to spend the night with 
 Nell. Having heard from Frank of the terrible 
 tragedy and of the confession of Dick, Mrs. Bent's 
 heart went out in motherly sympathy to the lonely 
 woman ; and instructing Milly to fix a basket of 
 dainties, and Joe to harness the horse, she donned 
 her garments and insisted on Frank's driving her 
 down. When Mrs. Bent explained that she and 
 Frank had come to stay over night with the 
 stricken woman, Mark prepared to go. 
 
 " Don't go yet, Mark ! I have something more 
 to say, and I want you to hear it, so that justice 
 may be done." And she motioned them all to 
 come nearer. 
 
 They did so, Mrs. Bent dropping into the chair 
 from which Mark had just risen, where she could 
 watch the features of the dying woman. 
 
 " Just before Dick left the house to-day, he 
 told me that it was he who shot Richard Cole. 
 That was what brought on the hemorrhage." 
 She closed her eyes and shuddered. 
 
 " Yes, Nell, we know all about it. Dick con- 
 fessed to Frank before he died," said Mrs. Bent, 
 taking Nell's hand and stroking it gently. 
 
 Her eyes flew wide open and fixing them on 
 Frank's face, she asked, 
 
 " And you forgave him ? "
 
 NELL'S LAST SACRIFICE 367 
 
 " I did ! " replied Frank earnestly. 
 
 " God bless you ! " Her words were fervent. 
 " You too have suffered through the sins of 
 an " A fit of coughing cut off her breath. 
 
 A crimson stain on her white lips warned them 
 of what was coming. Mrs. Bent hastened to raise 
 the head of the distressed woman ; and pressing 
 it tenderly against her motherly breast, she gave 
 comfort to the dying. And thus Nell Stanton, 
 the wronged and long-suffering, passed on to that 
 land where no word of unmerited reproach could 
 evermore hurt her loyal heart. 
 
 Towards eight o'clock that same evening, Rob- 
 ert opened his eyes and gazed mutely into the anx- 
 ious faces of those about him. Dr. St. John 
 smiled benignantly down on him as he took the al- 
 most bloodless wrist between his professional 
 thumb and fingers and stood counting the beats. 
 A faint smile lighted up Robert's features as he 
 met the genial look in the old doctor's eyes. 
 
 " Nothing serious, Doctor? " he half ques- 
 tioned, intently watching for any change of the 
 doctor's expression. 
 
 " Not the least, my boy, if you will only obey 
 orders," quietly replied the doctor. " And my 
 first order is, that you keep perfectly quiet for 
 the next twenty-four hours. You must ask no 
 questions, and I'll take care that nobody asks you 
 any, except myself." 
 
 Robert nodded his head in acquiescence and 
 smiled encouragingly into his mother's face as she
 
 368 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 bent over and kissed him. Then he closed his eyes 
 obediently; and shortly after, his regular breath- 
 ing told them that he slept the sleep of the weary. 
 
 Robert had a fairly good night. About six in 
 the morning, Bell stole into his room and insisted 
 on Dr. Craig's retiring for a few hours' repose 
 while she kept watch. He was really tired and 
 worn out by his night's vigil, and knowing that 
 Robert would be in good hands, decided to obey 
 what was practically her command. 
 
 Robert was sleeping lightly. Bell took her sta- 
 tion at the open window near the head of the bed, 
 where, though screened from view, she could see 
 every move he made. An hour passed when she 
 was conscious of someone entering the room and 
 softly approaching the bed. Thinking it was Dr. 
 St. John, and that he would retire as soon as he 
 saw that Robert still slept, she did not stir, lest 
 any move on her part would waken the sleeper. 
 The footsteps paused at the foot of the bed ; and 
 she was surprised to see Robert's eyes spring open, 
 and to hear him say, 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Lunt, I fear this is an ugly affair." 
 
 " Not so bad as it might have been," answered 
 Mr. Lunt in a low voice. He moved up to the 
 head of the bed and sat down in the chair the 
 doctor had left. Evidently thinking they were 
 alone, he went on : "I have come to tell you that 
 Dr. Craig, as you call him, will be placed under 
 arrest early to-morrow morning. I have tried
 
 NELL'S LAST SACRIFICE 369 
 
 my best to stave it off longer, but find it im- 
 possible. My men are growing restive under their 
 enforced idleness ; and now that Dick Stanton is 
 dead " 
 
 " Dick dead ! " exclaimed Robert in an excited 
 tone. 
 
 " Yes, after shooting you he turned the pistol 
 on himself. And that isn't all. He confessed 
 to the murder of your father. I had my sus- 
 picions of him for the last two years ; and if it 
 hadn't been for Mark Gibson, I'd have had him 
 long ago, and got the reward." 
 
 " Don't fret about the reward, I'll see that you 
 get it ; only I want you to let up on Craig for the 
 present." 
 
 " But I am afraid he will slip through my nets 
 yet." 
 
 " How can he escape while you keep him un- 
 der surveillance ! " exclaimed Robert impatiently. 
 " Besides he has no suspicion of your designs." 
 
 " But there is the possibility of your betraying 
 the whole business should a fever set in, as the 
 doctor thinks is highly probable; and my men 
 don't purpose to let another five thousand dol- 
 lars slip through their fingers if they can help it." 
 He spoke hurriedly, and as Bell thought, 
 cruelly. At the first sound of Mr. Lunt's voice, 
 Bell had risen, intending to step out and inter- 
 pose ; but ere she could move, her steps were ar- 
 rested by the mention of Dr. Craig's name. She
 
 370 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 stood as if stunned, leaning slightly forward in 
 breathless silence, drinking in every word that 
 passed between them. 
 
 " Well, if you have really made up your mind, 
 there is no use in my arguing the matter further," 
 said Robert after a moment's pause. " But as I 
 told you before, so I tell you again, I do not be- 
 lieve he committed the murder; and I shall stand 
 by him to the end, if I live. You will wait till 
 to-morrow morning, you say ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then promise me one thing." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " That you will let me know when the arrest is 
 made so I can make provisions for his defense." 
 
 " If I can, yes. Sh ! someone is coming ! " cau- 
 tioned Mr. Lunt; and the next instant Dr. St. 
 John entered in a flurry. 
 
 " Call this obeying orders ! " chided the doc- 
 tor in a brusque tone ; and with a peremptory mo- 
 tion of his head for Mr. Lunt to leave the room, 
 he placed his fingers on Robert's quickening pulse. 
 His face assumed a grave expression, and he eyed 
 Robert suspiciously. " That fellow has been 
 talking to you about something he had no business 
 to! Some men are born fools! Where's Craig? 
 Why isn't he here at his post ? " grumbled the old 
 doctor with increasing irritation. 
 
 Bell stood as if petrified. She dared not go 
 forward lest her appearance should add to Rob- 
 ert's excitement and make a bad matter worse.
 
 NELL'S LAST SACRIFICE 371 
 
 He must not know that she had heard anything; 
 for, should he know, he might pledge her to a 
 secrecy she could not and would not keep. She 
 looked about for some means of escape ; and her 
 heart gave a bound as she saw the door of Rob- 
 ert's dressing-room standing ajar behind her. If 
 she could only gain it without being seen by the 
 lynx-eyed old doctor, she would be ,safe. She 
 turned and glided swiftly and noislessly as a 
 shadow to the open door and into the dressing- 
 room, bringing up in the arms of Doctor Craig, 
 who stood just over the threshold, and who had 
 evidently been listening also. She would have 
 screamed had he not clapped his hand over her 
 mouth as he caught her in his arms. Motioning 
 for silence as he released her, he ran his fingers 
 carelessly through his hair and glided swiftly into 
 the chamber to account for his negligence as best 
 he could ; while she staggered against the wall, 
 where she leaned, faint and sick, for some mo- 
 ments. 
 
 " Good morning, Doctor," saluted the young 
 man in muffled tones, as he made his appearance 
 from the dressing-room. Receiving a mere grunt 
 of recognition from the old doctor who was busy 
 mixing a draught at the table, he turned to the 
 bed. " Why, hello ! Awake, are you ? I didn't 
 know but you were going to prove yourself akin 
 to the Seven Sleepers. Had a splendid night's 
 rest ! " he went on, while studying the slightly 
 flushed face on the pillow.
 
 Robert smiled faintly; then a spasm of pain 
 swept across his face, and his eyelids drooped 
 wearily over his brilliant eyes. 
 
 With a qualm of remorse, the doctor turned 
 away from the bed ; for he too saw the unmistak- 
 able signs of the dreaded fever, brought on, no 
 doubt, by the interview with Mr. Lunt. With a 
 sickening dread, he turned from the bed to the 
 solemn countenance of Dr. St. John ; but there 
 was no consolation from that quarter. The old 
 doctor went on with his compounding, and in a few 
 minutes rose, glass in hand, and approached the 
 bed. 
 
 " Come, my boy, we must reduce that fever and 
 check its progress," he said imperatively, placing 
 the glass to Robert's lips. 
 
 The glass was drained, and Robert sank back 
 on his pillow with a very wry face, and shortly 
 after dropped into a light slumber.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 GRANDMA BENT'S CALL 
 
 For the rest of the day an air of solicitude hung 
 over the house. Everyone spoke with bated 
 breath and tiptoed over the heavy carpets as if 
 afraid of raising the faintest sound. Dr. Craig 
 positively refused to leave the bedside again until 
 late in the afternoon, when Dr. St. John insisted 
 on his lying down for an hour's sleep to freshen 
 himself for his night's vigil. 
 
 In spite of all the doctor's medical skill the 
 fever increased with marvelous rapidity. About 
 two o'clock in the afternoon Robert began to rave ; 
 and the burden of his ravings was, " Ruth ! Ruth ! 
 the light of my life! Why do you shun me?" 
 The doctors listened and looked into each other's 
 faces in blank amazement. Neither of them had 
 ever had the slightest inkling of Robert's heart 
 story ; and the knowledge came to Dr. Craig with 
 a shock. 
 
 In his delirium he pleaded with Grandma Bent 
 not to condemn him for what he was not to blame. 
 
 " You know, Grandma, how I have always 
 loved her! I will never marry anyone else, no mat- 
 ter what my father and mother say ! They may 
 
 373
 
 374 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 prevent my marrying her, but they can never com- 
 pel me to marry anyone else. Oh, don't say no, 
 Grandma ! Think what it means to me ! " 
 
 Dr. St. John listened to the ravings until he 
 could stand it no longer; so leaving Dr. Craig in 
 attendance, he took a turn in the hall. With his 
 hands clasped behind him and his head drooped 
 on his breast, he paced the upper end of the long 
 hall several times. Finally, taking a little longer 
 turn, he brought up at the head of the wide stair- 
 way leading to the lower hall. Hearing voices 
 below, he looked down and was overjoyed to see 
 Grandma Bent standing with Mrs. Cole's hand in 
 hers, on the point of taking her departure. 
 
 After the death of Nell Stanton Mrs. Bent had 
 remained in the house of desolation to perform 
 the last sad offices for the dead. Word was car- 
 ried to Jack Stanton, the only living relative of 
 the unfortunate woman ; but he had taken a freak 
 of righteous umbrage and positively refused to 
 acknowledge the relationship. He actually dis- 
 owned the " strumpet and her murderous off- 
 spring " epithets which fell from his tongue with 
 ill-considered grace on the ears of those who knew 
 how much he had contributed towards the ruin 
 of his own house. His refusal to do his duty by 
 his kin threw the burden on strangers. 
 
 Then it was that Mark Gibson took the re- 
 sponsibility on himself, and with the help of Frank 
 and Mrs. Bent made all preparations for the bur- 
 ial of both Dick and Nell. At three o'clock in the
 
 GRANDMA BENT'S CALL 375 
 
 afternoon of the next day, with as deep a show of 
 respectability as Mark could throw around the 
 services, the two were laid at rest side by side in 
 the little churchyard, and within the very shadow 
 of the stately mausoleum under which rested the 
 remains of Richard Cole. 
 
 The curious were out in full force; and though 
 there were no real mourners, a few tears trickled 
 down the withered cheeks of Mrs. Bent out of 
 pure sympathy for the misspent lives which had 
 gone out so tragically. Frank also brushed away 
 a suspicious looking moisture from his eyes, which 
 threatened to overflow in tears. But they would 
 have been tears of thankfulness rather than of 
 mourning; for he saw how much better off both 
 were than if they, or either of them, had been 
 left to face the ignominy which would surely have 
 been heaped upon the head of the innocent and 
 the guilty alike. He was thankful, too, that the 
 cloud which had hung over his own head for over 
 two years had at last been lifted, and that he 
 could take up his life work again with a light 
 heart. 
 
 Mark Gibson, too, showed a spark of feeling 
 as he stood bareheaded between the open graves. 
 It would be difficult, however, to analyze his emo- 
 tions ; for there was a strange commingling of 
 pain and pleasure, sorrow and rejoicing, and 
 thankfulness ; and it would be hard to say which 
 predominated. Perhaps it was thankfulness, for 
 he had much to be thankful for. He was at last
 
 876 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 a free man. For twenty years he had stood as 
 a stone wall between these two clods of clay and 
 the threatened dishonor of a family name. He 
 had grown old under the burden. He knew that 
 Nell Stanton had justice on her side; but Richard 
 Cole had the law on his. But what is justice 
 when opposed by law ! He knew the frailty of 
 her cause and counseled patience ; and she had 
 been guided by his counsel. But it was all over 
 now ; henceforth, he could rest. 
 
 As Mrs. Bent and Frank were leaving the 
 churchyard after the burial, she told Frank to 
 drive up to Oakwood. Mrs. Cole and Bell had 
 both written to her and Frank, expressing their 
 pleasure at Frank's completed exoneration. The 
 letters also contained a hope that the dead past 
 might be buried, and that Mrs. Bent and Frank 
 might see their way clear to call on their doubly 
 afflicted neighbors. It was in response to these 
 letters that Mrs. Bent availed herself of the first 
 moment at her disposal to break the ice which had 
 kept the two families apart for so many years ; 
 and for the first time in her life to cross the 
 threshold of Oakwood. 
 
 She had made her call, and learning of the se- 
 rious turn Robert had taken, had decided not to 
 excite him further by even going up to look at 
 him; and she was just on the point of taking her 
 departure when Dr. St. John spied her. Frank 
 was on the veranda talking with Mr. Lunt. 
 
 Dr. St. John, wjth the distracting words of
 
 GRANDMA BENT'S CALL 377 
 
 Robert still ringing in his ears, quickly took in 
 the situation. The butler stood with the door 
 open, waiting for the dear old lady to pass out, 
 when the old doctor suddenly pattered down the 
 stairs and stepped in between ; and grasping Mrs. 
 Bent's hand in his usual fussy way, said in a little 
 flurry of excitement, 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Bent, this is indeed an oppor- 
 tune call. I want you to come right upstairs to 
 see Robert. He has been calling for you for the 
 last hour. It's a case of life or death. Come, 
 Mrs. Cole ! " And taking the trembling hand of 
 the old lady on one side and Mrs. Cole's on the 
 other, he tucked one under each arm and led the 
 way up the broad staircase and into Robert's 
 room. Leaving Mrs. Cole at the foot of the bed, 
 he conducted Mrs. Bent towards the head, where 
 Dr. Craig made way for her. 
 
 It was with tottering steps and tear-dimmed 
 eyes that she approached the bed on which Robert 
 lay tossing in delirium, and sank on the chair 
 which Dr. Craig had placed for her. With half 
 closed eyes, Robert lay as the doctor had left 
 him, still pleading for Ruth. She placed her hand 
 gently on his where it lay on the white coverlet. 
 Like a flash his eyes flew open; his fingers closed 
 convulsively over hers ; and a smile lighted his 
 fever-flushed face. 
 
 *' I knew you would come to me, Grandma ! " 
 he cried exultingly. " I knew you would come 
 when you learned the truth ! The only thing that
 
 378 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 troubled me was how you could ever believe all 
 that twaddle about my being engaged to anyone 
 else. You know I never could love anyone but 
 Ruth ! Why, Grandma, I loved her when I was 
 only a little shaver, long before I knew what love 
 was. When I shut my eyes so," and he drooped 
 his lids on his crimson cheeks, " I can see us 
 her and me waist-deep in the daisy field I 
 picking the daisies, she weaving them into a crown, 
 that I might place it on her head and call her my 
 queen." Then his eyes flew wide open again and 
 he turned a look of adoration on her face. " Oh, 
 yes, I felt in my soul that you would come to me 
 sometime and tell me I could speak to Ruth and 
 ask her to be mine. That is why I have been so 
 patient all these years ! " 
 
 Dropping into a chair at the foot of the bed 
 Mrs. Cole buried her face in her hands ; while the 
 old doctor turned away with moistened eyes. 
 Mrs. Bent bowed her head, and choking back her 
 tears with an effort, she placed her cool hand on 
 his hot forehead and stroked it lovingly. 
 
 " Yes, Robert, dear, I have come to give you 
 my blessing ! " she said evasively, in a voice 
 tremulous with emotion. " You must rest now ; 
 your recovery depends on it. So calm yourself 
 and try to go to sleep." 
 
 " And I may see Ruth ? " he pleaded, turning 
 his burning eyes full on her face as if he would 
 read her soul. 
 
 She raised her eyes helplessly to the tear-
 
 GRANDMA BENT'S CALL 379 
 
 stained face of his mother, who had risen and was 
 now standing at the foot of the bed, nervously 
 clutching the foot-rail for support, and sought 
 her answer. 
 
 Dr. St. John, who had been visibly affected by 
 the scene, now laid his hand on Mrs. Cole's and 
 whispered something to her as he nodded ac- 
 quiescently. Then she bowed her head in silent 
 assent. 
 
 " Yes, Robert, you may see Ruth, if you will 
 promise to obey the doctor's orders and keep 
 quiet for the rest of the day," she replied sooth- 
 ingly. " I will send for her immediately ; but she 
 is some distance away and may not get here be- 
 fore to-morrow or possibly next day. Now you 
 must go to sleep and rest till she comes." Press- 
 ing a kiss on his forehead, she rose to go ; for she 
 saw how exhausted he had grown within the last 
 few minutes. 
 
 " I will," he replied resignedly, as though deeply 
 conscious of all her words implied. But his burn- 
 ing gaze followed her till she had disappeared 
 through the door. Then his eyelids drooped 
 wearily and he lapsed into a semblance of sleep. 
 
 But what of Bell all this time? Having re- 
 covered somewhat from the fright and embarrass- 
 ment of her encounter with Dr. Craig in the dress- 
 ing-room, she had staggered out and across the 
 hall to her own room, where she threw herself, 
 faint and almost distracted with grief and morti- 
 fication, on the bed.
 
 " What does it all mean ? " she questioned her- 
 self when she had gained sufficient composure to 
 think in a rational train. " Dr. Craig under 
 surveillance and to be arrested to-morrow morn- 
 ing for murder! And Robert has known it for 
 several days ; and has kept that hateful Lunt in 
 the house as his guest all this time ! " Then she 
 sprang from the bed as if just awakened from a 
 terrible nightmare and began to pace the floor. 
 
 " I wonder if this was what he meant to tell me 
 Friday night?" she soliloquized. "Yes, I see it 
 all now ! he didn't have the heart to tell me. He 
 knew it would hurt me! He knew my heart bet- 
 ter than I myself did. And I have been so cruel 
 to him! But what's to be done? Oh, the horror 
 of it all ! I shall go mad if I cannot find some 
 means of escape for Arthur ! He shall not be ar- 
 rested, no matter what the consequence may be ! " 
 And then in sheer exhaustion she threw herself 
 into a large chair and gave vent to a flood of 
 tears. 
 
 At last her tears were spent and she sat up dry- 
 eyed, looking vacantly into space. She was forc- 
 ing herself to face the future without him. All 
 the exquisite happiness of the past year and a 
 half thrilled painfully through her veins ; and she 
 wondered how she could live were he to go out of 
 her life. Minutes and hours fled apace. Still 
 she sat, oblivious to all the world except her own 
 intense suffering. 
 
 Down from the mantel above her head came the
 
 GRANDMA BENT'S CALL 381 
 
 tinkle of a silvery-tongued clock, striking the hour 
 of ten as a warning of the flight of time. Still 
 she sat and the minutes flew by. She was trying 
 so hard to find a way of escape for escape he 
 must. But in spite of all she could do her thought 
 would fly off at a tangent and upset every plan 
 ere it was fully developed. Her temples throbbed 
 with the pain of her endeavors to concentrate her 
 mind on any one course of action. At length, in 
 a frenzy of despair, she sprang to her feet and 
 rang for her maid. 
 
 An hour later she issued from her room dressed 
 in a dainty muslin and stole softly downstairs in 
 search of Mr. Lunt. She found him on the front 
 veranda, seated in a large willow chair, her broth- 
 er's favorite seat, leisurely puffing a cigar in an 
 attitude of abandoned enjoyment. 
 
 " I fear you find our hospitality rather dull and 
 stupid," she remarked as she joined him. 
 
 " My dear Miss Cole, is it not rather I who 
 should apologize? " he said, rising and offering 
 her the seat. " My continued presence must seem 
 somewhat intrusive at such a time of sorrow and 
 anxiety," he went on when she did not answer, 
 " but duty leaves me no alternative than to re- 
 main until the excitement has fully died out in the 
 village." 
 
 " I had not thought of your presence as being 
 intrusive, Mr. Lunt," she replied in a low, almost 
 a sad tone. Then looking up into his face as he 
 placed the chair for her, she said rather pointedly,
 
 382 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " As for duty, one must always commend a con- 
 scientious performance of duty when avarice is 
 not the incentive." 
 
 He winced slightly and looked at her with a 
 curious gleam in his eyes, as if he would read her 
 meaning. The pale, haggard look in her face 
 startled him. 
 
 " Pray be seated, Miss Cole," he said presently, 
 putting aside the suspicion which her words had 
 aroused. " You have been under a great strain 
 for the last forty-eight hours. I fear you are 
 over-taxing your strength." 
 
 " No, no, Mr. Lunt, I did not come out to sit, 
 or to rest. I want air, motion, anything that 
 will break the tragic spell that seems to hang 
 over my house ! Come with me into the garden ! " 
 
 He looked at her in amazement. Her manner 
 struck him as strange and irritable. She spoke 
 rapidly, almost impatiently, and was halfway 
 down the steps ere she had finished her invitation. 
 
 " With pleasure," he replied, taking up his 
 hat and following her down the steps and on to 
 the broad path, where she stood waiting for him 
 to catch up to her. 
 
 " Do not think me capricious, Mr. Lunt," she 
 said in a whimsical tone as he joined her. " But 
 I simply could not remain in the shadow of the 
 house another moment ! I feel cold and shivery 
 and want to get into the sunshine." 
 
 " I do not wonder at it," he remarked, as he
 
 GRANDMA BENT'S CALL 383 
 
 quickened his steps to keep pace with her flying 
 feet. 
 
 After that she led the way in silence to the 
 flower garden in the rear, where the sun shone 
 down in splendor over a wealth of autumn bloom ; 
 and where they would be safe from any chance 
 eavesdropper. Pushing on till she reached the 
 center, she paused and faced him. 
 
 " Mr. Lunt," she said abruptly, " do I under- 
 stand rightly that Dr. Craig is to be arrested to- 
 morrow morning? " Bell was no diplomat. She 
 plunged right into the heart of her subject. 
 
 The question came like a thunderbolt out of a 
 clear sky to her companion. He started, frowned 
 darkly, and with an oath exclaimed: 
 
 " Then he has betrayed my confidence ! " 
 
 " No, he has not betrayed your confidence, if 
 by ' he ' you mean Robert," she declared emphatic- 
 ally. 
 
 He bit his lips in chagrin, for he realized that 
 he had practically admitted the charge; and he 
 now saw how useless a denial would be. Yet he 
 vacillated. 
 
 " Miss Cole, I fear you are laboring under a 
 flight of fancy," he said with a perceptible stiffen- 
 ing up of manner and voice. 
 
 " I only hope you can prove it so," she said 
 sadly. 
 
 " Just what do you know about this proposed 
 arrest? " he asked abruptly after a moment's hesi-
 
 384. THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 tation, during which time he had studied her in- 
 tently. 
 
 " Only what I overheard you tell Robert this 
 morning." 
 
 " You overheard me ! " he exclaimed in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Where were you ? " 
 
 " In the room, sitting behind the screen at the 
 head of the bed, opposite to where you sat. I 
 did not mean to listen ; I could not help hearing 
 what you said." 
 
 "Were you alone?" he asked eagerly. 
 
 " I was." 
 
 " Ah ! " The exclamation seemed to relieve his 
 pent up feelings and to relax just a little of 
 his assumed authoritative bearing. Then as if 
 another thought had suddenly occurred to him he 
 questioned, " Did your brother know you were 
 there in the room? " 
 
 " No. He was asleep when I took up my 
 watch. Your entrance wakened him." 
 
 This explanation appeared to satisfy him, for 
 he said with apparent frankness, 
 
 " Since you have heard so much, perhaps it 
 were well that you understood the whole affair, 
 at least so far as I am concerned in it." 
 
 " Yes, yes, but first tell me of the crime the 
 murder of which he is charged," she said nerv- 
 ously. " You see I am totally ignorant of every- 
 thing pertaining to it."
 
 GRANDMA BENT'S CALL 385 
 
 He saw the strain under which she was laboring 
 and hastened to relieve her suspense. With some 
 slight variations he took up the story of the trag- 
 edy as it appeared in the papers on the very day 
 on which Dr. Craig had so mysteriously dropped 
 into Coleville. He told her of the scouring of 
 three continents by detectives; of the big reward 
 offered for the apprehension of the murderer; and 
 of his own accidental recognition of Dr. Craig 
 on the previous Friday night. 
 
 " I would have placed him under arrest then 
 and there," he went on to explain, " only that I 
 knew he was held in high favor by your family. 
 Besides, I wanted to be absolutely sure of my 
 man, so I decided to wait till morning. Mean- 
 time, I made my connecting links in my chain of 
 evidence, and then called on your brother for as- 
 sistance. As was to be expected, he did not take 
 kindly to the accusation. He stoutly defended the 
 doctor, and could not and would not see that I 
 had the right man. To give him time to make 
 some investigations on his own account, I agreed 
 to hold the arrest in abeyance until Monday. 
 But as subsequent events have been such that I 
 dared not move lest I should add to the excitement 
 and trouble on hand, I have dallied along until 
 I have about exhausted the patience of my men. 
 Since this dilatoriness can not last forever, I shall 
 make the arrest to-morrow morning and put an 
 end to it all." 
 
 A deep sigh, more like a sob, escaped from be-
 
 386 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 tween her white, closely-drawn lips as he finished 
 speaking. A dull sense of despair had gripped 
 her heart as the story of the crime was unfolded 
 and link by link the chains were forged about the 
 man she loved loved better than her life, loved 
 as she had never thought herself capable of lov- 
 ing. Her brain throbbed until she thought it 
 would burst. Her limbs tottered beneath her, and 
 staggering to a rustic bench near by, she sank 
 upon it, while a sickening fear pervaded her whole 
 being. 
 
 Mr. Lunt pitied her and almost wished that 
 Fate had not thrown the man in his way. But 
 duty was duty, so he argued with himself, and 
 appeased any qualm of conscience that arose. 
 Then again, there was that five thousand dollars 
 reward, a too highly tempting bait to be lightly 
 cast aside for a love-sick maiden. 
 
 " Of course you understand this is to be 
 strictly confidential ; you promise not to inform 
 your friend ? " he half questioned, after a mo- 
 mentary pause. 
 
 With a look of abandoned despair she raised 
 her eyes to his face, and stretching out her hands 
 in an appealing gesture, she implored, 
 
 " Have pity, Mr. Lunt ; wait at least until Rob- 
 ert is out of danger! Surely this is not asking 
 too much \ " 
 
 " It is out of my power to grant your request," 
 he replied with a positive shake of his head, " much 
 as I should like to help you. He is technically
 
 GRANDiMA BENT'S CALL 387 
 
 under arrest at this present moment, and I am 
 his jailor. The proper officers will be here early 
 to-morrow morning to take him in charge." 
 
 " In that case, I shall promise nothing," she re- 
 plied in a voice suddenly grown strong with re- 
 sentment and defiance. She rose and turned to 
 retrace her steps. 
 
 " Miss Cole ! " he called in a tone so stern and 
 authoritative that she trembled with apprehension. 
 She paused and looked sideways at him from over 
 her shoulder. 
 
 " You understand, I presume, that any attempt 
 on the part of this man to escape will be met with 
 preventive measures." His voice contained a note 
 of warning which was not to be mistaken; and to 
 make it more impressive he drew from his coat 
 pocket a pair of heavy wristers of glittering steel. 
 Twirling and jingling these on his long, sinewy 
 fingers significantly before her eyes, he walked 
 towards her. This was the poorest stroke of 
 policy he could have adopted to gain his point. 
 
 Isabell Cole was shrewd only when she was op- 
 posed and wanted to outwit her opposers. At the 
 sight of these instruments of torture and re- 
 straint, she covered her face with her hands and 
 fled precipitately towards the house, leaving him 
 to follow at his leisure. 
 
 He was hardly prepared for her flight, and at 
 first it annoyed him; but the more he thought of 
 it, the less he feared her betrayal of his plans. 
 At any rate, he was placed on his guard. He
 
 would watch her. In this frame of mind he 
 reached the house, and was informed of the un- 
 favorable turn of Robert's case. 
 
 Meanwhile, Bell had entered the house by the 
 kitchen door and passed directly up to her room 
 by way of the servants' hall without meeting any- 
 one. On reaching her own room, she closed the 
 door and locked it behind her, and stood for a 
 moment, faint and panting, with her back against 
 it, as if she would bar out the world. She wanted 
 to be alone to think. When she recovered her 
 breath, she began to pace the floor with restless, 
 impatient steps. Finally, she sat down at her 
 writing desk and began to write rapidly. One, 
 two, three notes were written and each was torn 
 into tiny bits and consigned to the waste basket. 
 A fourth was written and read several times, then 
 folded and placed in an envelope and sealed. This 
 was carefully tucked in the bosom of her dress 
 as she rose and again took up her restless pacing. 
 Presently her mother rapped for admittance and 
 Bell opened the door. 
 
 " O Bell, where have you kept yourself all morn- 
 ing? " wailed Mrs. Cole, as she entered the room. 
 " Do you know that the doctors are quite alarmed 
 about Robert? And only think what would be- 
 come of us if he should die ! " And she buried her 
 face in her handkerchief and wept. 
 
 Bell placed her arms tenderly round her mother 
 and led her to a divan, on which she sank and drew 
 her mother down beside her. Bell did not speak.
 
 GRANDMA BENT'S CALL 389 
 
 She was too full of grief herself to be of much com- 
 fort to her mother. She could only press the dear 
 head against her bosom and stroke it gently. 
 Even this was more than her pent up feelings 
 could long endure, for there are limits to all things 
 human. Bravely she fought against the rising 
 rebellion of her own soul; but all to no purpose, 
 and presently she too burst into tears. 
 
 For sometime mother and daughter wept 
 hysterically together, though neither could 
 fathom the depth of the other's anguish of spirit. 
 Mrs. Cole was totally ignorant of Bell's love for 
 Dr. Craig, or of his impending doom; while Bell 
 could hardly realize the critical condition of Rob- 
 ert. Fortunately, the maid entered and brought 
 both to a sense of their obligations by announcing 
 that lunch was waiting. 
 
 " Come, dear," said her mother, rising and draw- 
 ing Bell up with her, " you must go down and take 
 my place and excuse me to Mr. Lunt and the doc- 
 tor." 
 
 Bell obeyed without a murmur. She bathed 
 her face and removed all traces of tears and tried 
 to calm the tumult of her heart. On her way to 
 lunch, she stepped into the sick chamber to see 
 for herself whether her mother had not exagger- 
 ated the seriousness of Robert's ill turn. 
 
 Dr. Craig sat alone by the bedside, holding Rob- 
 ert's throbbing wrist in a light grasp and watch- 
 ing intently the heavy breathing of the wounded 
 man. As Bell approached the bed, the doctor
 
 390 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 raised his eyes; but he did not change his posi- 
 tion, nor did he speak. She met his gaze with a 
 silent inquiry ; to which he nodded a reply ; then 
 both turned their attention to the flushed face 
 on the pillow. Through a mist of tears she gazed 
 long and reverently on that well-beloved face, 
 while all the happy years of their childhood rose 
 like a beautiful vision from the depths of her mem- 
 ory. 
 
 A few seconds passed. The doctor released the 
 wrist of his patient, and rising, stepped to the 
 foot of the bed and stood beside her. He seemed 
 to wait for her to speak. But she had neither 
 the heart nor the voice to break the stillness of 
 the chamber. Glancing stealthily around to make 
 sure they were alone, she drew the note from her 
 bosom and slipped it into his hand and then 
 turned and glided hastily from the room and down- 
 stairs to the dining-room where the old doctor and 
 Mr. Lunt were already seated at the table.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 THE ARREST 
 
 After lunch, which passed off in comparative 
 silence, Bell returned to her room. Fatigued in 
 body and spirit, she knew not where to seek rest 
 or comfort. It seemed to her that time never 
 dragged so slowly before. But the longest day 
 has an end; and so at last, all her restless hours 
 of waiting ended when a light rap roused her from 
 a dreamy reverie. With a beating heart she 
 sprang to her feet and hastened to open the door. 
 A frightened look came into her eyes when she 
 beheld Dr. Craig standing before her; though it 
 was evident he was expected, for she whispered: 
 
 " Is the coast clear? " 
 
 He nodded in the affirmative. 
 
 " Come in ! " she whispered in trembling tones, 
 taking hold of his coat sleeve and pulling him in- 
 side. Then she closed the door, and turning the 
 key, she planked her back against the door and 
 faced him. For a moment her courage seemed to 
 fail her. Her face flushed scarlet; her eyes 
 sought the floor ; and her head sank on her breast, 
 as she stood abashed before him. 
 
 " You wanted to see me on a matter of im- 
 
 391
 
 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 portance?" he questioned in order to relieve her 
 embarrassment. 
 
 At the sound of his voice her courage returned ; 
 and throwing her head back proudly, she replied, 
 
 "I do ; and I presume you understand what 
 that matter is." 
 
 " Then you presume too much, for I have not 
 the slightest idea," he answered with a coolness 
 that gave her a chill. 
 
 She eyed him for a moment with a puzzled air, 
 as if at a loss how to proceed. 
 
 " You overheard what Mr. Lunt said to Rob- 
 ert this morning? " she ventured. 
 
 " Partly," he replied. " I heard only the last 
 few words." 
 
 "Then you do not know?" she stam- 
 mered. 
 
 "Know what?" he asked, looking at her with 
 a quizzical air. 
 
 " That you are to be arrested ? " she 
 panted, bracing herself more firmly against the 
 door. 
 
 " That I am to be arrested ? " he repeated 
 slowly, with the utmost sang-froid. " For what, 
 pray?" 
 
 " For murder ! " she gasped, gazing at him 
 with a look of horror in her eyes. 
 
 He gave a short, low laugh, which curdled the 
 blood in her veins. 
 
 " Come, this is some kind of joke," he said at
 
 THE ARREST 393 
 
 length, controlling his laughter and smiling down 
 at her. 
 
 " Then it is not true ! You can prove your 
 innocence? " she cried, growing more agitated 
 every moment. " Only tell me you are not guilty 
 of this terrible crime and I shall not care what 
 else they say ! " She seemed like one suddenly 
 bereft of her senses ; and so indeed thought the 
 tloctor as she clutched his arm in the abandon- 
 ment of her grief. 
 
 Subdued by the sight of her distress, he 
 caught her hands in both his own and held them 
 firmly and gazed into her wild eyes in silence, as 
 it suddenly dawned upon him that after all, while 
 Ruth had fascinated him for the time being, it was 
 Bell whom he loved with all the passion of his soul. 
 He tried to collect his wits as to what was best to 
 be done. He realized the delicacy of his position, 
 and wished to make no false move at the present. 
 He knew now that she loved him well enough to 
 make any sacrifice for him, and he longed to fold 
 her in his arms as his very own ; but this was 
 neither the time nor the place. He must guard 
 himself and her. 
 
 " You must leave Coleville somehow before 
 morning ! " she broke out afresh, having mistaken 
 his long silence for a confession of guilt. " I have 
 found out that the house and grounds are guarded ; 
 but I can cheat the guards and find a way for you 
 to escape if you will only trust me. Oh, why did
 
 394 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 you do it ! " she cried despairingly. Then in a 
 more sympathizing tone she continued : " But 
 you did not mean to kill him, did you? " 
 
 He winced at this, turned a trifle pale, and 
 tightened his hold more firmly on her hands ; but 
 he did not speak. 
 
 ** I know it was an accident ! " she went on 
 breathlessly, " for you are too kind-hearted to 
 commit willfully such a horrible deed! But they 
 shall not arrest you ! I will save you if you will 
 only let me ! " The tears welled to her beautiful 
 eyes as she endeavored to win his confidence, 
 blinding her to the look of agony on his face. 
 She seemed wholly unconscious of the fact that 
 every word she uttered pierced his soul like a 
 barbed wire. 
 
 The sight of her tearful eyes and the distress 
 on her face was more than he could bear; and 
 throwing discretion to the winds, he folded her 
 in his arms and pressed her close to his heart. 
 Gazing into her tear-brimmed eyes, he asked in 
 a trembling voice, 
 
 " Would you really care, darling, if I should 
 be arrested and hanged for this awful crime you 
 speak of ? " 
 
 " You know I would care ! " she cried, as her 
 arms stole round his neck and drew his face down 
 close to her own. " You know it would kill me ! 
 But they shall not arrest you ! You will let me 
 help you ; you will trust me ; you will go ? " she 
 pleaded.
 
 THE ARREST 395 
 
 " Bless you, my angel ! " he whispered tenderly, 
 pressing her closer, while showering warm kisses 
 on her cheeks and lips, and stroking her hair with 
 a caressing touch. " I would trust you to the 
 end of the world ! You shall save me, if you will ; 
 but not by assisting me to escape the just punish- 
 ment of my past misdeeds. Let Lunt make the 
 arrest. It will break the silence under which I 
 am bound. Then, if you still love me " 
 
 A rap on the door startled them. She pushed 
 him towards her dressing-room door. 
 
 " Go ! " she commanded in a frightened whisper. 
 " I shall see you again," she continued as she 
 pointed the way out of her dressing-room into the 
 side hall. Then she hastened back to the door 
 and opened it. 
 
 " O Bell, why do you keep yourself shut up 
 in your room when I need you so much?" re- 
 proached her mother as she brushed past her into 
 the room. " Mrs. Bent and Frank have been 
 here. They inquired for you and wished to be 
 remembered to you. Mrs. Bent is going to send 
 for Ruth; Robert wants to see her." 
 
 " Going to send for Ruth ! " murmured Bell as 
 in a daze, dropping into a deep easy-chair to hide 
 her agitation. " Why, where is she ? " 
 
 " She is visiting her father somewhere up in 
 New Hampshire." 
 
 "How long has she been gone?" asked Bell 
 faintly. 
 
 " Since last Saturday," replied her mother.
 
 396 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 She then proceeded to tell all that had taken place 
 in Robert's room as well as her broken spirit 
 would permit. 
 
 Bell listened like one in a dream. She had no 
 heart to oppose anything Robert might wish. In 
 fact, she rather rejoiced at what had been done. 
 She felt that she could welcome Ruth with open 
 arms as in those days of their happy childhood. 
 She even wondered how she had ever sided in with 
 her father in his opposition to Robert's choice. 
 But what puzzled her most was the visit of 
 Grandma Bent. 
 
 Mrs. Cole was too full of her own anxieties and 
 sorrows to notice anything out of the ordinary 
 in the looks and behavior of Bell. She was 
 pleased that Bell had taken the news so resignedly 
 when she had expected a storm. When she saw 
 no opposition forthcoming, she laid Bell's quiet 
 acquiescence, if she thought of it at all, to Bell's 
 great sisterly love and anxiety for Robert. She 
 had not long to ponder the matter either way, for 
 presently Judge Gray sent up his card, and she 
 went down to receive him, leaving Bell once more 
 alone with her own thoughts and perplexities. 
 
 As soon as her mother had gone, Bell covered 
 her face with her hands in shame and humiliation. 
 What had she done! It had swept over her soul 
 like an avalanche that she had thrown herself into 
 the arms of a man who had never, even by so 
 much as a look, shown that he cared for her be- 
 yond that of a common friendship. As she tried
 
 THE ARREST 397 
 
 to think just what she had said and done, she 
 seemed to feel the warm kisses on her lips and the 
 pressure of his strong arms about her; and a sud- 
 den thrill of exquisite delight quivered through 
 her whole being with the memory of those mo- 
 ments. Oh, the joy of it; and oh, the pain of 
 it! She pressed her hand over her heart to stop 
 its unruly beating. 
 
 After a while she grew more tranquil and set 
 her fertile brain to work to devise means of es- 
 cape for the man she loved. There were no 
 doubts in her mind now about his having com- 
 mitted the deed. For had he not practically ad- 
 mitted it? But her heart made all sorts of ex- 
 cuses for him. There were, she knew, some rea- 
 sons which he could explain, if he only would, 
 which would exonerate him in the eyes of the 
 world, if not in the eyes of the law. But the law 
 was inexorable; the law had no heart, no pity, no 
 commiseration ; the law would not palliate the ac- 
 cused ; it would only look at the deeds as done 
 in cold blood and condemn the perpetrator. No, 
 she saw nothing to be hoped from the law. So far 
 as she could see, nothing could save him from a 
 felon's fate but flight ; and she racked her brain 
 to concoct a scheme to outwit Mr. Lunt and his 
 sleuths who were guarding the house at every 
 available exit. 
 
 About nine o'clock that night a telegram came 
 from Ruth. Bell received the messenger at the 
 door and signed the receipt. Tearing the en-
 
 398 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 velope, she drew forth the message and read it ; 
 and instantly her fertile brain conceived a way out 
 of her difficulty. With little ado she controlled 
 herself and entered the parlor where Mrs. Cole 
 was making an effort to entertain Mr. Lunt, and 
 read the message aloud to her mother. Ruth was 
 coming on the midnight train, so Bell read the 
 message. Then she and her mother fell to dis- 
 cussing Ruth's coming. Mr. Lunt rose to leave 
 the room, impelled, no doubt, by a sense of deli- 
 cacy. 
 
 " No, no, Mr. Lunt, you need not go ! " inter- 
 posed Bell with a wave of her hand. " There is 
 nothing private about this matter ; besides, I may 
 have to call on you for escort duty." 
 
 " In that case I am at your service," replied 
 Mr. Lunt with a bow, and he dropped back into 
 his comfortable seat. 
 
 " You see," explained Bell in the sweetest and 
 suavest manner at her command, " this young 
 lady is a very dear friend of my brother, and she 
 is to arrive on the midnight train. Of course I 
 feel in duty bound to meet her at the depot. Un- 
 der present conditions, I would hardly dare to go 
 alone. Would it be asking too much of you to 
 go with me? " 
 
 *' I can assure you I shall deem it a great 
 pleasure to be allowed that honor," he said gal- 
 lantly, bowing deeply. 
 
 Bell waited to hear no more. 
 
 " I will take this up and read it to Robert, if
 
 THE ARREST 399 
 
 the doctor will let me," she said as she left the 
 room with the open telegram in her hand. Her 
 pace slackened in the hall. She did not seem to 
 be in such a great hurry as her manner indicated 
 when she left the room. Up the stairs she moved 
 slowly, crumpling the telegram in her hands and 
 finally thrusting the wad in her bosom. Un- 
 fortunately, under the excitement of her overween- 
 ing confidence, she forgot the looseness of her 
 gown ; and the possibility of the crushed telegram's 
 slipping down never dawned upon her mind. 
 
 Robert's condition had changed for the better 
 since the visit of Mrs. Bent. Although he was 
 still restless, the fever had subsided materially ; 
 and the wounds were doing as well as could be 
 expected. He was sleeping quietly when Bell tip- 
 toed into the room and stood for a moment at 
 the bedside, gazing down on his drawn face. 
 
 Dr. Craig, who had kept an almost sleepless 
 vigil over the wounded man, had risen when she 
 approached the bed and stood beside her. Neither 
 spoke. She did not even look at him as she 
 slipped a note into his hand, unobserved by the 
 old doctor, who nodded drowsily in an arm-chair 
 at the opposite side of the bed. Then she turned 
 and swept swiftly and noiselessly from the room. 
 
 She paused at the head of the stairs and 
 pressed her hands tightly over her palpitating 
 heart as if she would stay its turbulent beating 
 ere she descended to the parlor below. After a 
 moment's delay she passed down the stairs and
 
 400 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 met her mother and Mr. Lunt with the demure- 
 ness of a saint, and reported that Robert was 
 asleep and she could not disturb him. 
 
 Half an hour later Mr. Lunt excused himself 
 to go to his room, saying that he would be ready 
 in time to accompany Bell to the train to meet 
 her friend. He left them and ascended the great 
 hall stairs in a very peculiar frame of mind ; for 
 somehow, he had begun to distrust Bell. He was 
 well informed of her infatuation for the doctor, 
 and he had begun to ask himself the question: 
 " What would a woman of Bell Cole's temperament 
 not do for the man she loves?" At the top of 
 the stairs his eyes fell on a small wad of yellow 
 paper. Thinking it had been dropped by the 
 servant, he picked it up and carried it in his hand 
 to his room with the intention of throwing it into 
 the waste basket. But as Fate would have it, he 
 flung it on the table instead, where it lay unno- 
 ticed for sometime. 
 
 With hands clasped behind him, he walked the 
 floor in a deep study for a short while, then 
 dropped into a chair with a fretful, impatient air 
 by the side of the table. One arm rested on the 
 table, the other on the arm of the chair. Sitting 
 thus, absorbed in the details of the business at 
 hand, his eyes caught sight of the yellow ball on 
 the table. Taking it in his fingers, he toyed with 
 it in a preoccupied way for awhile, throwing it 
 up and catching it as it fell or bounded on the 
 table. Tiring of this light sport, he straightened
 
 THE ARREST 401 
 
 out the rumples, and smoothed the crinkled paper 
 in a mechanical sort of way. Then, as a mat- 
 ter of course, he glanced casually at the writ- 
 ten message. As he did so, he started and sat up 
 straight with a bound and re-read it. A crafty 
 look came into his eyes and an artful smile 
 wreathed his thick lips as he ran over the words 
 for the third time; for the message read: 
 
 " Will arrive on the 6.30 train in the morning, 
 Ruth." 
 
 Throwing his head back, he laughed a low, sar- 
 donic laugh and chuckled to himself, 
 
 " So, so, the midnight train? Luck is still with 
 me ! " Having relieved himself thus, he folded the 
 tell-tale telegram and placed it carefully away in 
 his vest pocket. Then he rose, walked to the win- 
 dow, and raised it. 
 
 The night was clear, calm, and warm. The 
 moon rode in splendor above the hills and shed 
 a soft radiance over the earth. He took a cigar 
 from his pocket, lit it, and seating himself by the 
 open window, began to breathe volumes of white 
 smoke from between his closed lips with the air 
 of a self-satisfied man. 
 
 While Mr. Lunt was rejoicing in his chamber 
 over his streak of good luck, Bell was walking the 
 floor in hers, equally jubilant over the outlook 
 for the success of her little scheme to outwit this 
 wily detective. She had gone to her room almost
 
 immediately after he had gone up to his. And 
 here she was staking her chances blindly, and 
 playing at cross-purposes with Fate. 
 
 Although she was somewhat harassed by doubts 
 as to how far the doctor would lend himself to her 
 scheme, she laughed to herself as she thought of 
 how easily she had thrown the dust in the sharp 
 eyes of Mr. Lunt. Now if Ah, that little 
 " if ! " A light tap on the door of her dressing- 
 room startled her from her reverie. Hastening to 
 open it, she admitted the doctor, whom she had 
 evidently been expecting. She closed the door 
 softly behind him, and while turning the key, asked 
 abruptly in a voice thrilling with emotion, 
 
 " Well, what have you decided? " 
 
 " Nothing as yet," he answered calmly. 
 
 " But you must decide quickly," she almost 
 gasped, pressing her hand over her heart in a 
 spasm of pain. " I have made all the plans ; you 
 must go ! " 
 
 " And what are the plans ? " he asked in a tired 
 voice, as if they were not of the slightest con- 
 cern to him. 
 
 " Why, simply this," she replied in an under- 
 tone. " Ruth Bent is supposed to arrive on the 
 midnight train and I am to meet her at the sta- 
 tion. You must drive over with me as my escort, 
 and when the train comes in, you must board it, 
 ostensibly to assist Ruth, but in reality to remain 
 on the train and be carried off." 
 
 He burst into a merry laugh. She looked about
 
 THE ARREST 403 
 
 in terror and held up a warning hand. He 
 clapped his hand over his mouth and tried to con- 
 trol his mirth. While his eyes fairly twinkled 
 with fun, he asked, 
 
 " But have you reckoned with our interested 
 friend, Mr. Lunt? " 
 
 " Yes, and if you leave him entirely to me, I 
 can manage him to perfection. His blinders are 
 on already," she said with a knowing toss of her 
 head. 
 
 " And you really think I can escape so easily ? " 
 he asked in a tone of smothered laughter, looking, 
 as she thought, a trifle more serious. 
 
 " If you follow my instructions and leave all 
 arrangements to me you can not fail," she replied 
 with all the confidence she could muster; though 
 it was evident she was piqued at his hilarity over 
 such a serious matter. 
 
 " Then it's a go ! " he whispered in a half play- 
 ful vein. " Into thy hands I commit myself for 
 better or for worse. If it comes out better than 
 I expect, well and good ; if worse, I die game ! " 
 
 She seemed relieved at his consent, though she 
 saw it was given with some reluctance. She felt 
 as if a burden had been suddenly lifted from her 
 mind. A new light came into her eyes as she hur- 
 riedly gave him the necessary instructions for his 
 guidance in the project on hand; to all of which 
 he listened in drowsy silence. When she had fin- 
 ished she bade him go and make his preparations 
 and report in the lower hall at eleven o'clock.
 
 404 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 But the best laid plans often go awry. So Bell 
 was soon to see all her schemes come to naught, 
 and learn to her consternation and dismay, that, 
 instead of rendering help, she had only hastened 
 the climax. 
 
 He left her presence in a peculiar frame of mind 
 and went directly to the room which had been as- 
 signed for his use during his stay in the house. 
 He was dead tired and sadly in need of rest. 
 Over thirty-six hours had passed since he had 
 closed his eyes in sleep. As he entered the room 
 a luxurious divan set at a tempting angle in one 
 corner of the room, caught his eye. He drew out 
 his watch and glanced at it. It was not yet ten 
 o'clock. He yawned and turned a covetous glance 
 on the divan. Suppose he should lie down and 
 rest for an hour, would he not still have time 
 enough in which to prepare for this midnight 
 journey? With this question beating hazily 
 through his brain, he reached the divan, and 
 stretching himself wearily at full length on its 
 downy cushions, he lay for sometime with closed 
 eyes. Oh, the luxury of such relaxation ! The 
 world with all its joys and sorrows, loves and 
 hates, aspirations and intrigues seemed so far 
 away. He could feel the lethargy of sleep softly 
 creeping over his limbs and senses. That he was 
 fast drifting into forgetfulness he seemed to real- 
 ize, though his brain still retained its power to 
 visualize certain facts, with distinctness. Sud- 
 denly his eyes flew open and springing bolt up-
 
 THE ARREST 405 
 
 right, as wide-awake as if he had had a whole 
 night's repose, he glanced nervously about the 
 room. He rose from the divan, walked over to the 
 table; and throwing himself into a large morris- 
 chair, he clasped his hands behind his head and 
 gazed absently up at the ceiling. 
 
 " I wonder if it would not be better, after all, 
 for me to stay and face it out," he soliloquized. 
 " Sooner or later it must happen. Why not now ? 
 I think I can establish my innocence so far as the 
 murder theory is concerned. But dash it all, the 
 other part is an ugly affair and sure to create 
 a disagreeable sensation among those whom I have 
 learned to love, and who have learned to love me, 
 and to trust me. No matter how the case goes, 
 it's an ugly piece of business. I wonder what has 
 become of Jones and Smith, and if it would be 
 possible for me to find them ? And if I should find 
 them, how far would they be willing to implicate 
 themselves to save me? Ha, ha, ha! As if any 
 sane man would do such a fool thing as to in- 
 criminate himself to save another!" 
 
 Suddenly the laugh died on his lips; his jaw 
 relaxed ; his cheeks blanched ; and his eyes dilated 
 with horror. 
 
 " My God ! " he aspirated, as a horrible sus- 
 picion seemed to dawn upon his mind. " Can it 
 be possible that those rascals committed a mur- 
 der and duped me! What a confounded idiot I 
 have been not to have thought of such a possibil- 
 ity before! If it should be so, how could I meet
 
 406 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 a charge of murder? Everything would be 
 against me ! I could tell my story ; but who would 
 believe it? No one who ever knew me before I 
 came here; and certainly no one here after they 
 had found out some features of my past life would 
 take any stock in my tale. And I can hope for 
 nothing from Norman. Ah, those wasted years ! " 
 he went on bitterly ; " what would I not give to 
 recall them ! " 
 
 He buried his face in his hands and remained 
 silent for a brief space of time. Then he moaned 
 aloud and broke forth afresh. 
 
 " And Bell, poor, dear girl ! how can I ever re- 
 quite you for all your wasted affections ; for all 
 those gentle acts of kindness ; and for this last 
 great proof of your unselfish love for so unworthy 
 an object. Though I did not mean that you 
 should learn to love me, the thought of your love 
 is the one sweet drop in this cup of bitterness ! " 
 
 The clock struck eleven. He sprang to his 
 feet. 
 
 " Yes, I will go," he exclaimed, his eyes ablaze 
 with the light of a new determination, and every 
 nerve alert as if charged with a live wire. " I 
 will find those rascals if they are on the face of the 
 earth and compel them to disgorge their odious 
 secret ! " He arranged his toilet, which was 
 quickly accomplished, for he had brought no 
 clothes with him except what he wore. 
 
 Exactly at five minutes past eleven Mr. Lunt 
 made his appearance in the hall below to await
 
 THE ARREST 407 
 
 further developments. Five minutes later Bell 
 came down the stairs fully dressed for the drive 
 to the depot ; and directly behind her Dr. Craig 
 sauntered down with her cloak over his arm. Bell 
 beamed one of her most winning smiles on Mr. 
 Lunt as she reached his side and said softly, 
 
 " Dr. St. John insists on Dr. Craig's accompany- 
 ing me to the station. You know the doctor is 
 a sort of an A No. 1 crank on fresh air; and he 
 thinks the nurse needs a little after his long and 
 continuous confinement in the sick-room. You 
 don't mind his going with us; do you? " 
 
 " Not in the least," suavely assented Mr. Lunt, 
 as the butler brought his overcoat and helped him 
 on with it. He greeted the doctor with a face- 
 tious smile; and as they followed Bell and her 
 mother down the hall to the side door where the 
 carriage stood in waiting, he inquired about Rob- 
 ert's condition and the prospects of his recovery. 
 
 Bell reached the door first and stopped short 
 on the threshold with an exclamation, in which dis- 
 gust, impatience, and anger were strangely 
 blended : 
 
 " How stupid ! They have sent round the 
 coupe ! " 
 
 " That is what you ordered, miss," meekly ex- 
 plained the coachman, touching his hat respect- 
 fully. 
 
 " Yes, I believe I did, Thomas," acknowledged 
 Bell with a half reluctant, half dejected air. 
 " That was before I knew Dr. Craig was coming,
 
 408 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 and I neglected to change my order. It is all my 
 fault. But what is to be done? " she asked, 
 turning to Mr. Lunt with a most rueful and help- 
 less look on her face. " The coupe will hold but 
 two inside and there is not time now to get the 
 coach ready. We shall be late for the train if 
 we delay any longer; and poor Ruth will be 
 frightened if she is kept waiting in that old barn 
 of a station at this hour of the night." 
 
 Mr. Lunt vouchsafed no reply. He looked as 
 helpless as she; but a curious smile lurked under 
 his long mustache as he waited for her to solve 
 the knotty problem. She glanced out of the open 
 door. The stars were shining and the sky was 
 clear. Again she turned to him with a look of 
 distress and humiliation. 
 
 " Would you mind staying with Mother, Mr. 
 Lunt, while Dr. Craig and I go to the depot? " 
 she asked in her most beseeching tone. " You see, 
 he can ride on the box with the coachman on our 
 return, and that will leave the inside for Ruth 
 and me." 
 
 " No, I would not mind such an arrangement in 
 the least, if it were absolutely necessary for you 
 to go to the depot to-night," he replied with a 
 significant emphasis on the " if." 
 
 She looked at him in well assumed surprise. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " she asked in a tone of 
 innocence. 
 
 " Simply what I said," he answered calmly, 
 while his eyes contracted and emitted a glint of
 
 THE ARREST 409 
 
 steely indifference. " I think, however," he went 
 on after a second's pause, fixing his eyes on her 
 white face, " that you have carried your little plot 
 quite far enough, Miss Cole. You see, I happened 
 to find this telegram on the stairs, where you must 
 have dropped it, which was very, very careless 
 of you." And he held up the tell-tale paper un- 
 der her eyes for her inspection. Then turning to 
 the doctor, who had stood quietly by during all 
 this colloquy wondering how it would terminate, 
 and placing his hand on the young man's shoulder, 
 he said gravely : " Mr. Bixby, you are my pris- 
 oner." 
 
 The doctor started. His arms dropped limply 
 to his sides, letting Bell's cloak slip to the floor 
 unheeded. He was deathly pale, but no sound 
 escaped his lips. 
 
 For a moment Bell stood as one petrified. She 
 saw that all was lost. Then with a low cry of 
 pain, she threw her arms round the doctor's neck 
 and sobbed as if her heart would break. This 
 seemed to bring the doctor to a sense of his sur- 
 roundings ; and closing his arms about her grief- 
 convulsed form, he tried to soothe her. Mean- 
 while, Mrs. Cole looked on aghast, unable to move 
 or speak. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Mrs. Cole," said Mr. Lunt, 
 breaking the spell which seemed to have frozen the 
 blood in her veins, " but this man is a notorious 
 murderer for whom we have been searching for 
 the past two years."
 
 410 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " Oh ! " gasped Mrs. Cole with a start of hor- 
 ror. 
 
 " It's a lie ! " cried Bell, wheeling on Mr. Lunt 
 with flashing eyes, and stamping her little foot in 
 rage. " It's a lie ; and you know it's a lie ! " 
 
 Mrs. Cole had by this time recovered from her 
 first shock of surprise. Drawing herself haught- 
 ily to her full height, she pushed Bell aside and 
 stepped between her and the doctor, saying in very 
 cold and indignant tones, 
 
 " Isabell Cole, I am ashamed of you ! Have 
 you forgotten the pride and the modesty that be- 
 long to your womanhood? Have you forgotten 
 your station in life and the duty you owe to it? 
 Go to your room at once! " and she waved her off 
 with an imperious gesture whose meaning there 
 was no mistaking. 
 
 Bell turned at her mother's bidding and fled 
 through the hall and up the stairs, never pausing 
 till she reached the threshold of Robert's cham- 
 ber. Here she stopped, white, and trembling in 
 every limb. A high Japanese screen stood be- 
 tween her and the bed on which Robert lay in a 
 gentle slumber. 
 
 The old doctor sat by the table in the center of 
 the room reading his paper. He had heard the 
 faint swish-swash of fluttering silks on the air, 
 and had felt rather than seen the figure pause in 
 the doorway. He raised his eyes mechanically 
 and met the wild, imploring look on the face of 
 the trembling girl. Seeing by her agitation that
 
 THE ARREST 411 
 
 something was wrong, he rose and hastened to 
 her. 
 
 " What is it? " he whispered as he drew near. 
 
 " Doctor Craig ! " she gasped and sank to the 
 floor in a helpless heap. 
 
 He summoned the servants and ordered her car- 
 ried to her room, where he left her in charge of 
 her maid while he went down to learn what had 
 happened to the doctor. He met Mrs. Cole in 
 the lower hall, cold, stiff, and severe of mien, and 
 told her of Bell's fainting and asked her what 
 had happened. For reply she waved him towards 
 the rear parlor, and then passed on silently up the 
 stairs to Bell's room. 
 
 The little doctor went blindly on, and a moment 
 later walked unannounced into the presence of the 
 two men, who were seated at opposite sides of a 
 large table, one sullen and silent, the other silent 
 and triumphant. Sailing in with his usual breezy 
 and brusque air, he broke in on their meditations 
 with, 
 
 " Well, boys, what's up? " 
 
 Both men rose to their feet simultaneously. 
 Doctor Craig hung his head in abashed silence, 
 while Mr. Lunt made the denouncement. 
 
 The old doctor turned deathly pale, placed his 
 hand over his eyes, and staggered to a chair. 
 The young man sprang to his side and throwing 
 his arm affectionately across the shoulders of his 
 stanch old friend, said cheerily, 
 
 " Don't be alarmed, Doc. It may not be quite
 
 412 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 so bad as it appears. You know the devil is not 
 as black as he is painted. So cheer up ! " 
 
 His voice had such a cheerful ring that the old 
 doctor took heart and presently regained his 
 wonted composure. But the old man's face 
 looked haggard and drawn when he raised it to 
 meet the eyes of the young man whom he had 
 learned to love as a son. He patted the delicate 
 white hand where it rested on his shoulder and 
 replied in a voice tremulous with emotion, 
 
 " That's right, lad, keep up your spirits, and 
 don't forget for one moment that I am your friend 
 and protector through weal and woe ! " Then 
 turning to Mr. Lunt, he asked : " What do you 
 intend to do? Can't you let the lad remain with 
 me till morning? I need him in the sick-room." 
 And he patted the hand on his shoulder again. 
 
 " If you will give me your word of honor thnt 
 no further attempt to escape will be made, I will 
 turn him over to you till eight o'clock to-morrow 
 morning," said Mr. Lunt, looking from one to 
 the other for some assurance that his confidence 
 would not be betrayed. 
 
 Both men pledged their word that the law would 
 be respected, and received in turn a guarantee of 
 that freedom they sought. 
 
 " I make this concession," explained Mr. Lunt, 
 " because I have already promised Mr. Cole that 
 I would not make the arrest till the very last min- 
 ute to which it could be postponed." 
 
 "Then he knows?" questioned Dr. St. John.
 
 THE ARREST 413 
 
 *' He does," admitted Mr. Lunt frankly. 
 
 The old doctor looked troubled; but as there 
 was nothing else that could be said or done that 
 would relieve the situation, he rose, and linking 
 his arm in that of his protege, bowed to Mr. Lunt 
 and turned away. Together the two men left the 
 room, the elder leaning almost helplessly on the 
 arm of the younger, and walked slowly, silently, 
 and sorrowfully across the hall, up the broad stair- 
 way, and into Robert's chamber.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 NEW SCENES 
 
 Let us now return to Ruth, whom we last saw 
 as she waved a farewell to Milly and Joe as the 
 train pulled out of the station on Saturday morn- 
 ing. The train increased its speed and bore her 
 on to her destination, arriving at the grimy little 
 station at L. about the middle of the afternoon. 
 She felt very much fatigued by the long and 
 tedious journey tedious, because her heart was 
 out of tune with the grandeur of the scenes 
 through which she had passed. The white, 
 troubled face of Robert as she had seen it in that 
 passing glimpse haunted her like a disturbing 
 dream. It seemed to flit forever before her with 
 exasperating perversity, as a will-o'-the-wisp 
 dances over the quagmires to lure the lost traveler 
 to his doom. Sometimes it appeared to be so 
 close to her own hot cheeks that she actually raised 
 her hand to touch it, only to break the vision for 
 a moment. His sad, melancholy eyes, as she had 
 seen them of late, with all the laughing love-light 
 gone from their depths, seemed to mock, upbraid, 
 taunt, reproach, and implore her by turns. 
 
 The sun rose higher and higher. The train 
 414
 
 NEW SCENES 415 
 
 dashed on and into the very heart of the hilly 
 regions, winding through the cuts, or skirting 
 along the banks of sparkling streams ; but she 
 heeded it not. Under the effects of the warming 
 temperature the white mists of the meadows and 
 the purple haze of the hills rose and floated off 
 like webs of gossamer. The golden glow of the 
 sunlight brought into bold relief great splashes of 
 color on the farther hillsides, bewildering masses 
 of throbbing tints in the nearer distance, and 
 flaming, flaunting patches of red or yellow of 
 isolated oaks and maples standing proudly aloof 
 in the meadows and lowlands. 
 
 But the splendors of it all were lost on her, for 
 she saw them not. What cared she for the chang- 
 ing foliage, the sunlit towering hills, or the mar- 
 velous depths of the fern shadows below she 
 whose soul was in a tumult of perplexity bordering 
 on despair? Nothing! 
 
 She heaved a sigh of relief when the train drew 
 into the L. Station, and she found herself at last 
 in the arms of her father. Mr. Bent tucked her 
 away in the buggy with the same tenderness he 
 was wont to bestow on her when a child ; and after 
 ordering the little trunk sent up by express, he 
 climbed in beside her and drove off. Half an 
 hour's drive brought them to the door of an old- 
 fashioned house, standing severely alone some dis- 
 tance beyond the outskirts of the town. 
 
 Under the benign influence of her father's 
 cheery talk, who besieged her with questions of
 
 416 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 his boyhood home and friends, Ruth recovered 
 much of her usual buoyance of spirit ere they had 
 sighted the house. As it rose suddenly on the 
 landscape as they turned into the highway from 
 a cross road, Mr. Bent pointed it out to her. 
 She leaned far out of the buggy, and with a pair 
 of wide-open and inquisitive eyes, critically sur- 
 veyed the house and its surroundings. 
 
 Ruth never quite forgot her first impression of 
 the quaint old place ; nor could she ever under- 
 stand the absorbing interest it roused in her from 
 the first instant her eyes rested on it. 
 
 Years afterwards she recalled vividly the long, 
 almost interminable stretch of chalk-colored high- 
 way, flanked by gently undulating meadows bare 
 and brown bare and brown, save for clumps of 
 fine old trees standing out from the main wood- 
 lands in a blaze of autumnal glory, which broke 
 the continuity of the levels here and there, past 
 which she seemed to float on airy wings. Off to 
 the left, some distance beyond the house, she could 
 see the fair grounds, with their masses of various 
 colored buildings enclosed by a high, weather- 
 beaten fence, already presenting a holiday appear- 
 ance with their flags and streamers fluttering in 
 the light breeze. And then the rambling old house 
 itself, topped by a dingy looking cupola, octagonal 
 in shape, over which gyrated a tarnished weather- 
 cock. 
 
 Mrs. Bent stood on the steps to welcome her 
 stepdaughter when the buggy rolled up to the
 
 NEW SCENES 417 
 
 door. As Ruth alighted she was instantly folded 
 in a motherly embrace and led up the steps and 
 into a large homelike sitting-room. Although the 
 day was exceedingly warm, a wood fire burned 
 brightly on the wide, open hearth, which lent an 
 air of comfort and cheer to the big room. The 
 glow of the firelight played fitfully over the deli- 
 cately carved wainscotings and brought out in 
 bold relief the exquisite designs of the woodwork. 
 Ruth went into raptures over the effect, and ex- 
 pressed her delight with everything she saw. 
 
 After supper, as was his custom when the 
 weather permitted, Mr. Bent betook himself to the 
 shelter of a gnarled old apple-tree which stood on 
 the west side of the house, where he was presently 
 joined by Mrs. Bent and Ruth. Mr. Bent soon 
 buried himself in his paper; his wife worked si- 
 lently on a bit of embroidery ; while Ruth sat with 
 hands clasped listlessly in her lap, idly watching 
 the sun-clouds pile and rift above the western 
 horizon. 
 
 The day had been uncommonly hot and sultry 
 one of those rare September days that seem to 
 arrest the flight of summer, give a dash of bril- 
 liancy to the face of nature, and set the earth a- 
 buzzing with a new kind of life. But towards 
 evening there had sprung up a refreshing breeze, 
 which stirred the leaves with a gentle, rustling 
 motion, yet still retained sufficient of the sun's 
 warmth to induce one to linger under its dreamy 
 influence beneath the open sky.
 
 418 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 The sun sank lower and lower behind the fir- 
 crowned hills in the west, leaving a trail of crimson 
 and gold in its wake. The colors glanced anent 
 the window-panes of the neat cottages and gilded 
 the slender spire of the little white church nestling 
 amidst the verdure of the valley below. 
 
 The soft cooing of the doves came from the 
 cotes under the eaves of the barn ; the vesper song 
 of a brown thrush floated over from a copse of 
 maples near by ; and all nature seemed to blend 
 in a common harmony ; when, suddenly the strains 
 of " The Campbells are Coming " quavered out 
 on the evening air from the rasping strings of a 
 squeaky old fiddle. 
 
 Mr. Bent dropped his paper, exclaiming, 
 
 " Why hello, there's Jethro ! " 
 
 All eyes turned in the direction of the quaver- 
 ing sounds and beheld one of the strangest, most 
 uncouth figures of a man they had ever seen. He 
 stood on the graveled path in front of the house, 
 with his head tilted backward, his eyes rolled up 
 and fixed in a vacant stare on the second story 
 window, while his whole body swayed with the 
 rhythm of the martial tune that rose and fell like 
 a plaintive wail on the still evening air. His right 
 foot beat time to the music ; and the grinding of 
 the gravel beneath his heel blended strangely with 
 the rasp of his time-battered instrument. He ap- 
 peared oblivious to everything but his fiddle ; and 
 all of his energies seemed bent on drawing out the
 
 NEW SCENES 419 
 
 most sonorous sounds of which it was capable of 
 producing. 
 
 " Hello, Jethro, come right along this way ; 
 you're only wasting your music there ! " shouted 
 Mr. Bent good-naturedly. 
 
 Down came the fiddle with a jerk; the head 
 twisted half-way round with an automatical move- 
 ment, while his eyes rolled over in his head and 
 focused themselves on the little group under the 
 apple-tree. No other part of his body moved ; 
 and having assumed this position, he remained 
 motionless till Mr. Bent spoke again. Then he 
 turned abruptly and ambled towards him. 
 
 " Gosh, Mr. Bent, yer cum nigh takin' the 
 breath outer me! " ejaculated the queer little man, 
 drawing near with a half frightened look on his 
 face. " I didn't know you lived here ; I didn't 
 know the place was occypied at all. How long 
 yer lived here? " 
 
 He blurted the words out under his breath as 
 if he feared the sound of his own voice. At the 
 same time his peaked chin shot forward with a 
 sudden jerk of his long, scrawny neck ; his left eye- 
 lid twitched nervously, giving to his eye a comical 
 squint which roused the risibility of even Mrs. 
 Bent although she always considered it the 
 height of ill-breeding to laugh at the infirmities 
 of the unfortunate. 
 
 " About six weeks," answered Mr. Bent, plac- 
 ing a chair conveniently near the quaint figure.
 
 420 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " 'Bout six weeks ! " repeated Jed with an 
 involuntary gasp between each word. 
 
 " Yes, we came here early in August," ex- 
 plained Mr. Bent, smiling at Jed's incredulous 
 look. 
 
 " Pshaw, yer don't say so ! How jer like the 
 place?" He spoke with a jerky movement; and 
 his voice seemed to come from his throat with a 
 smothered, gurgling sound not unlike that of 
 water issuing from a narrow-necked bottle. 
 
 Mr. Bent laughed and answered, 
 
 " Why, Jed, we like the place very well ; don't 
 you see how we are enjoying rural life? By the 
 way, Jed, you haven't met Mrs. Bent before. 
 Mrs. Bent, allow me to present Mr. Prowty, one 
 of the town's most noted citizens." 
 
 There was a roguish twinkle in his eyes as he 
 presented his caller according to the well estab- 
 lished rules of etiquette. 
 
 Jed straightened up and a look of intelligence 
 flashed into his small black eyes. Doffing his 
 dusty straw hat, he made a profound bow and 
 jerked out, 
 
 "How jer do, Mam!" 
 
 A more pathetic sight could not be imagined 
 than that presented by the queer little man as he 
 made his obeisance to Mrs. Bent. His shrunken, 
 emaciated form, clad in patched, tattered, and 
 faded garments was bent nearly double in an atti- 
 tude of courtly deference. One hand firmly 
 clasped the old cracked fiddle by the neck, the
 
 NEW SCENES 421 
 
 other crushed the ragged straw hat in a nervous 
 grasp. The wind made sport of the long, thin 
 strands of snow-white hair that crowned his tem- 
 ples, and tossed them carelessly about his bronzed 
 face. The bow was low and reverent. He 
 seemed to forget himself for the time being, and 
 there is no telling how long the salaam might 
 have lasted had not Mrs. Bent come to the rescue, 
 by saying in her dulcet tones, 
 
 " This is indeed an unexpected pleasure, Mr. 
 Prowty. Pray be seated ! " 
 
 Slowly he resumed his erect position; then his 
 eyes wandered furtively over his shoulder towards 
 the house, and with another outward shoot of the 
 chin, he asked nervously, 
 
 " I say, Mr. Bent, ever see anything peculiar 
 'bout the house? " 
 
 " Peculiar ! " repeated Mr. Bent, smiling at 
 Jed's childish question. " No, indeed ; we have 
 found it a most delightful place. But come, Jed, 
 sit down. You must be tired after your long 
 walk from town," and motioning Jed to the chair 
 which had already been placed for his convenience, 
 Mr. Bent called out, " Nellie, bring out some re- 
 freshments for Mr. Prowty ! " 
 
 Jed dropped into the chair, while a look of 
 blank amazement settled on his withered face. 
 
 " Gosh durned if I kin understand it ! " he 
 ejaculated, more to himself than to those about 
 him, as he placed his fiddle across his knees. 
 Again the chin shot out; and a stealthy glance
 
 422 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 swept the grounds and rested for a second on the 
 foaming milk which Nellie was pouring into the 
 pans at the kitchen door. Bringing his eyes back 
 to Mr. Bent's face with a nervous twitch, he said, 
 
 " I say, Mr. Bent, ever hear any strange noises 
 in the house over there? " 
 
 Mr. Bent brought his fun-twinkling eyes to bear 
 full on Jed's wrinkled face; but he checked him- 
 self from making merry at the expense of his 
 visitor when he saw the look of concern in his eyes. 
 Thrusting his hands deep into his pockets and 
 jingling the coppers he found therein, he replied 
 lightly, 
 
 " Why, no ; at least none stranger than that 
 made by the occasional flap of a loose shutter on 
 a windy night, or the scurry of rats across the 
 rafters in the loft over the kitchen ; and we have 
 heard the squeaky croak of the spring piper a little 
 out of season floating up from the rush pond down 
 yonder. Hark ! there it is now ! " 
 
 Sure enough, the shrill, half croak, half pipe 
 of the young frog came wafting up on the evening 
 breeze. Once, twice, thrice, then all was still as 
 before. 
 
 Jed sprang from his seat at the first pipe; his 
 fiddle dropped with a hollow thud on the smooth 
 turf at his feet and lay unheeded ; his chin shot 
 out with its usual jerk; and his right hand went 
 up, trumpet fashion, to his ear as he bent for- 
 ward to catch the sound. For a moment he stood 
 thus, with all the intensity of his nervous nature
 
 NEW SCENES 423 
 
 concentrated on listening for a repetition of the 
 pipes. But none came. Slowly the muscular 
 tension relaxed, and he sank limp into his seat 
 with a perplexed air. Stooping to pick up his 
 fiddle, he muttered to himself, though loud enough 
 to be heard by all, 
 
 " Gosh durned if thet don't beat all ! Lived 
 here six weeks an' ain't hered nothin' strange ; 
 ain't seed nothin' strange ! " Then he began to 
 tune his fiddle. 
 
 " I say, Mr. Bent, how long jer expect ter live 
 here? " he asked abruptly, raising his fiddle to 
 his shoulder as he spoke and placing his hollow 
 cheek affectionately against its time-honored body. 
 Then giving the bow a wide flourish in the air, 
 and bringing it down gracefully on the strings, 
 he scraped out one bar of " Annie Laurie " ere 
 Mr. Bent had time to answer his question. 
 
 This feat was too much for the pretended 
 gravity of Mr. Bent, and he laughed heartily as 
 he replied, 
 
 " Well now, Jed, that depends on how long 
 those mysterious sights and sounds to which you 
 refer so vaguely will allow me to enjoy the com- 
 forts of a quiet country life." 
 
 " Gosh durn it, Mr. Bent," he exclaimed in tones 
 of surprise, " what I want ter know now is, if yer 
 ain't never herd the story 'bout this 'er place ? " 
 
 " No, Jed, I have never heard a word deroga- 
 tory to the place," and Mr. Bent smiled at the 
 worried expression on Jed's face.
 
 424- THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " Gosh durn it, Mr. Bent, if thet ar don't beat 
 all creation ! " And he scraped another bar of 
 " Annie Laurie " on the bass string. Lowering 
 his fiddle to his knee, he scratched his head me- 
 chanically in a vain attempt to account for Mr. 
 Bent's ignorance. His eyes took another survey 
 of the house and grounds and rested finally on a 
 large iron gate set in a high stone wall of solid 
 masonry that marked the southern boundary of the 
 garden in the rear. On the other side of that 
 wall lay the town cemetery and beyond that shim- 
 mered the placid waters of the lake. His gaze 
 lingered on the gate as if he expected to see it 
 open and some white-robed spectre emerge from 
 the tomb and stride into the midst of them. Fear, 
 horror, and consternation were alternately de- 
 picted on his countenance. 
 
 " Why, Jed, you seem very much alarmed about 
 my safety; but I think your fears are entirely 
 unfounded. I have the most perfect confidence in 
 the good faith and sense of propriety of my neigh- 
 bors across the wall ; and I am inclined to believe 
 that if any ghostly malcontents have seen fit in 
 times past to make this place a rendezvous for high 
 carnivals, they will now respect the rights of a 
 peaceful citizen and leave me and my family to 
 enjoy the serenity of our present surroundings." 
 
 There was not the slighest shade of levity in his 
 voice, and the habitual twinkle of his mild blue 
 eyes gave way to a serious, half pitying look as 
 he spoke. It was evident that he was trying to
 
 NEW SCENES 425 
 
 alleviate the fears, whatever they were, of his vis- 
 itor. 
 
 Jed remained silent for some seconds after Mr. 
 Bent had finished speaking, his eyes still resting 
 on the gate with a haunted gaze. Finally he 
 rolled his eyes over and fixed the right one on the 
 face of his host, while the left one opened and 
 shut with a rapid, twitching movement that sent 
 his whole face askew. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Bent," he said, his voice trembling 
 pitifully, " es yer ain't hered the story 'bout this 
 place, I'd like ter tell yer 'bout it. Thare ain't 
 nobody es knows it better'n I do." 
 
 " Why, yes, Jed, if there is any history at- 
 tached to this place I should certainly like to hear 
 it. My wife here has always had a sort of sus- 
 picion of that darksome loft over the kitchen. 
 She calls it grewsome," said Mr. Bent, nodding his 
 head towards the long, rambling ell which jutted 
 from the main building in the rear. 
 
 At the mention of the loft Jed gave a start which 
 accelerated the twitching of the eyelid ; and lean- 
 ing eagerly towards Mrs. Bent, he asked in a tragic 
 whisper, 
 
 " But yer ain't never seed anything onnatural 
 up thar, hev yer? " 
 
 Mrs. Bent could scarcely refrain from laughing 
 outright at the tragic mien of the little man ; and 
 it was with an effort that she controlled her voice 
 sufficiently to give an intelligible answer. She 
 was naturally kind-hearted ; and good breeding
 
 426 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 forbade her from making light of a phantasy 
 which appeared so real to the forlorn looking crea- 
 ture before her, for she felt that her caller was la- 
 boring under some mental aberration. 
 
 " No," she stammered after a moment's pause ; 
 " I have neither seen nor heard anything super- 
 natural anywhere about the house or grounds; 
 only the loft does look gloomy ; and I never care 
 to enter it, so I keep the doors leading to it 
 locked." 
 
 Jed settled back in his chair, apparently re- 
 lieved at the assurance given. Up went the fid- 
 dle to his shoulder and with another grand flourish 
 of the bow, a couple of bars of " Old Dan Tucker " 
 trembled out on the air, accompanied by a low, 
 gleeful chuckle which came from his half closed 
 lips and mingled weirdly with the notes of the 
 fiddle. 
 
 At this juncture Nellie came from the kitchen 
 bearing a tray on which was laid out temptingly 
 a delicious repast, consisting of thin slices of bread 
 and butter, cold chicken, cake, peaches and cream, 
 and a large pitcher of sweet milk. Mr. Bent 
 placed a small circular table at Jethro's elbow, on 
 which Nellie set the tray. She then poured out 
 a tumbler of the rich milk, and arranged his plate, 
 knife and fork, and spoon with as much care as 
 though she were serving a king. 
 
 Jethro's hungry eyes fairly gloated on the food, 
 and it was evident that he would need little urging 
 to help himself. But he betrayed a latent spark
 
 NEW SCENES 427 
 
 of refinement by the delicate manner in which he 
 approached it. He laid his hat and fiddle care- 
 fully on the grass at his feet. Then he rose, 
 grasped the back of his chair in a nervous grip, 
 and bowed deferentially to Mrs. Bent. 
 
 " I couldn't refuse sech hospitality if I wanted 
 ter; an' I don't want ter. It looks too durned 
 nice ! " Saying which, he seated himself at the 
 table and fell to with a relish. 
 
 He ate heartily though not greedily ; and ere he 
 had finished his repast, Mrs. Bent was convinced 
 that, somewhere in years gone by, this wreck of 
 a man had seen better days. She became eager 
 to hear his story; the more so, because she felt 
 that his own life's history was in some way linked 
 with the place. As his hunger diminished his self- 
 control increased ; and there appeared less and less 
 of that twitching of the facial nerves which gave 
 to his countenance an elfish cast. Besides this, as 
 he talked to Mr. Bent on town topics, he would 
 occasionally drop his crude manner of speech and 
 fall into a natural vein of pure English. The 
 change seemed to come unconsciously and last two 
 or three sentences ; when he would catch himself, 
 give a sudden gasp, and resume his chosen dialect. 
 
 After draining the pitcher of every drop of 
 milk, and clearing plate and platter of every ves- 
 tige of edibles, Jethro pushed his chair back and 
 rose from the table with the satisfied air of a 
 full man. Picking up his fiddle and dragging his 
 chair over where he could face his auditors, he
 
 428 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 seated himself and began tuning up his instrument. 
 This done, he straightened up, crossed his legs, 
 placed his fiddle under his chin, and played a few 
 bars of " Auld Lang Syne " and began his tale. 
 
 As he told his story in his own peculiar style, 
 interspersing it with snatches of various old songs, 
 and running an obligato of the same melodies re- 
 mittently to the end, rasped out on his old cracked 
 fiddle, it was fascinating in the extreme. I shall 
 endeavor to repeat the tale as nearly as possible 
 as he narrated it ; and the reader will notice how 
 naturally he drops his dialectical form of speech 
 and drifts into a strain of pure English then back 
 to the dialectical.
 
 " It's somethin' over forty years since Don 
 Bixby brought home his bride. She was a Miss 
 Cook from somewhar near Boston, an' a mighty 
 purty creeter she was, too. Don lived in the old 
 mansion near the green in the town at that time; 
 an' for weeks arter he came home with his bride 
 there was a round o' gaiety in the town sech es 
 never was afore nor since. Thet was so es she 
 wouldn't be lonesome. 
 
 " Don sot great store on her an' thar want 
 nothin' too good fer Melicent. They were just 
 es happy es two cooin' doves, an' everybody who 
 knowed Don was glad, 'cause everybody liked 'him, 
 yer see. Don was one o' them kind er men who 
 knows everybody in the country, an' who wa'n't 
 ashamed ter speak, nor ter shake hands with the 
 poorest man in town, no matter whare he seed him. 
 An' he didn't wait till 'lection time ter do it nuther. 
 He didn't set down in his back parlor an' expect 
 folks ter bow down an' worship him jes 'cause he 
 had a little money an' his great-grandfather fit in 
 the Revolushunary War. No, siree ! He jes went 
 
 round among the people an' did his duty es er 
 
 439
 
 430 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 citizen of this er great Republic oughter ; and when 
 the war broke out, he jes shouldered his gun an' 
 marched away with the boys." 
 
 At the word " marched " Jed bounded from his 
 seat as though an electric spark had touched him, 
 jerked his chin forward, shouldered his fiddle in 
 lieu of a gun, and pranced up and down in imita- 
 tion of some martial hero. The effect was gro- 
 tesque in the extreme. To maintain any sort of 
 gravity was out of the question. Mr. Bent simply 
 roared with laughter; but Jed didn't mind it in 
 the least. He strutted a dozen paces or so, 
 stopped short and shouted, " 'Bout face ! " 
 wheeled round, placed his fiddle in position, and 
 ambled back to his seat to the tune of " Marching 
 through Georgia." Seating himself with as much 
 pomposity as a monarch would show on taking 
 his throne, he picked up the threads of his narra- 
 tive. 
 
 " Yes, siree ; he marched away with a gun ; but 
 he didn't come back with a gun ! No, siree ; he 
 came back with a sword! 
 
 " But es I was sayin', Don was mighty fond 
 o' Mrs. Bixby ; 'cause she sutenly was an angel ! 
 Thare was only one thing es worried him. He 
 was the last o' the Bixbys, an' he kinder sot his 
 heart on havin' a boy ter keep up the family name. 
 But the years went by an' no boy came, nor girl 
 neither fer that matter. It was a little disap- 
 pointing, to be sure ; but Don Bixby wa'n't the man 
 ter grow cross an' sulk 'bout sech trifles. He jest
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 431 
 
 made the best o' it an' went on lovin' Melicent jes 
 the same es if she'd had a dozen boys. 
 
 " When they had been married 'bout fifteen 
 years, Mrs. Bixby surprised everybody by pre- 
 sentin' Don with twins, two o' the purtiest little 
 boys ter be found in the county. But it was the 
 last thing she ever did, poor dear, fer she died 
 within twenty minutes after they were born." 
 
 His voice sank with a melancholy cadence, and 
 a shade of sadness settled over his wrinkled face. 
 He paused in his recital and his eyes wandered off 
 to a great mass of white clouds edged with a golden 
 tint, floating lazily above the tree-tops. Then his 
 thin hand swept over his old fiddle with a caressing 
 movement as if he were stroking a favorite cat. 
 For a moment he sat thus, wrapt in the silence of 
 the past. Then raising his fiddle, his joy and 
 solace under all circumstances, he scraped out a 
 few bars of " Annie Laurie," while great tears 
 coursed down his furrowed cheeks and fell with a 
 splash on the sounding board. His grief was ap- 
 parently too genuine to rouse any emotion except 
 the purest respect ; and his auditors waited in 
 silence for it to pass. The mood changed as 
 quickly as it had come. 
 
 Down came the fiddle ; out shot the chin ; his eye 
 resumed its abnormal twitching; and, as if 
 ashamed of his momentary weakness, he jerked 
 out: 
 
 " Gosh durn it, Mr. Bent, I never kin think o' 
 them days 'thout feelin' kinder queer ! " And he
 
 432 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 flipped the tears from his cheeks with a gentle 
 flirt of his forefinger. 
 
 " Yer see, Don Bixby wa'n't never the same ater 
 that. But he didn't go round tearin' his hair and 
 wringing his hands, an' snifflin' and snufflin', and 
 work off his sorrow in a week es some folks do. 
 Not he ! He jest went about so calm and sad like, 
 thet it made everybody else sad ter see him. 
 Melicent was laid over there where you see thet 
 moniment with the angel on top. You kin read 
 her name in gold letters there. * Melicent, Be- 
 loved wife of Don Bixby.' And she was beloved, 
 not only by Don Bixby, but by everyone who 
 knowed her ! 
 
 " The next year he built this house and came 
 out here to live, so es he could be near Melicent. 
 He didn't sour on the world though, es some men 
 do when they are hard hit. No, siree ! He went 
 to town meeting jest the same es before, and did 
 his duty like a man. Only he was changed 
 he was sort o' solemn like. 
 
 " Well, sir, them two babies growed and growed 
 es like es two peas in a pod. Yer couldn't tell 'em 
 apart, onless yer went ter teasin' em. Then yer 
 could tell 'em ! Never did the good Lord make two 
 human critters more alike in looks and less alike 
 in temper and disposition. 
 
 "Don was the elder by ten minutes; an' jest 
 'cause he managed ter squirm into the world ahead 
 o' his brother, he thought he owned the earth by 
 right o' prior discovery. He was proud es Luci-
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 433 
 
 fer and full es crafty, and had a temper thet 
 couldn't be matched if you had ten thousand devils 
 to choose from. He was called Don, after his 
 father; but that wasn't his full name. The other 
 boy was called Norman, after one of the early 
 Bixbys, and was just like his father in disposition, 
 kind and gentle like. 
 
 " When Mr. Bixby moved out here, he dis- 
 charged all his old servants except three: Sandy 
 Moore, an old Scotch gardener, and Jean, his 
 wife, who was the housekeeper ; and a Miss Simons, 
 the nurse. The nurse stayed until the boys were 
 about six years old. When she left, Jean took 
 upon herself the care of the boys ; and Mr. Bixby 
 began their education. They were so far from 
 school thet Mr. Bixby decided to teach them him- 
 self. So he had regular school hours for them 
 and put them to work in earnest. Then it was 
 that he became painfully aware of the pure cussed- 
 ness of Don. 
 
 " He tutored them fill they were about fifteen, 
 when he engaged a regular tutor to prepare them 
 for college. The tutor was an ex-professor of 
 Harvard, who had been obliged to resign his col- 
 lege work on account of ill health. He was about 
 forty years of age at the time ; and was considered 
 a mighty good scholar; but he was not physically 
 strong at the time he took the position ; and I 
 tell you, it takes physical strength to cope with 
 such natures as Don's. 
 
 " Norman, with his bright, manly bearing and
 
 434- THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 genial disposition, made a delightful companion 
 for the old tutor. On the other hand, Don, with 
 his quick, sulky temper and vicious propensities, 
 was a thorn in the side of the tutor from the very 
 beginning. He was always into some sort of 
 deviltry ; and with a cunning hardly to be credited 
 to one so young, he would invariably throw the 
 blame of his mischief on someone else; and that 
 someone else was always either his brother Nor- 
 man, or the old tutor. Oftener it was the brother 
 on account of their resemblance to each other. 
 To be able to fasten his pranks on Norman was a 
 source of pleasure for the young scapegrace, who 
 took special delight in his brother's humiliations. 
 Vicious people as a rule, are arrant cowards, and 
 Don Bixby Jr. was no exception to the rule. 
 
 " Norman bore the censure meted out to him 
 for his brother's misconduct with the patience and 
 humility of a martyr. But instead of this hav- 
 ing a good effect on Don Jr., it just seemed to 
 rile him beyond measure^ and then he redoubled 
 his efforts to keep Norman in disgrace. Most of 
 the mischief was done in the town ; and it was so 
 contrived that Norman would be somewhere near 
 when the act was committed ; and dodging behind 
 trees and hedges, Don Jr. would hike home and es- 
 cape, and Norman would be sure to fall into the 
 trap and have to pay the penalty. 
 
 " The tutor was not slow in making this dis- 
 covery and he informed Mr. Bixby. To protect 
 Norman, the tutor suggested that the boys should
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 435 
 
 no longer dress alike; but that each should have 
 his own distinctive color. This was decided on. 
 But whew ! wa'n't Don mad ! It had to be done 
 though. So Don chose gray and Norman black. 
 But bless your soul ! arter the first week, it didn't 
 mend matters one iota ; for Don would put on Nor- 
 man's clothes and steal out nights and cut up his 
 capers jest the same. The tutor expostulated 
 with him and threatened to put his father on his 
 track. Then he got wild like, called the tutor a 
 sneak, and swore a big oath thet he'd get even with 
 him. 
 
 " Well, sir, one night the tutor resolved ter fol- 
 low him and try to dissuade him from his evil ways. 
 Don didn't say a word when he saw the tutor at 
 his heels. He jest went right along es though he 
 didn't care, straight up thet path," pointing to a 
 narrow path which led to a grape arbor and thence 
 to the cemetery gate. " He opened the gate with 
 a key which he took from his pocket and passed 
 through. All this time the tutor was talking to 
 him, begging him to return to the house and give 
 up whatever deviltry he had planned for the night, 
 and not disgrace his father any more. 
 
 " He never so much as answered the tutor ; but 
 he held the gate open for him to pass through, and 
 gave him a wicked look as he passed by into the 
 cemetery. Then he closed the gate and locked it, 
 and turning quickly, struck the tutor a tremendous 
 blow on the head with something hard and heavy ; 
 and that was the last the tutor knew for ages.
 
 436 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " When the tutor regained consciousness, he 
 found himself in the vault, all covered with blood, 
 and so weak that he couldn't stir; but he could see 
 where he was ; for the coffins were piled up around 
 him. Arter a while he began to hear strange 
 noises. Then the coffins all began ter open an' 
 pretty soon all the skeletons o' all the Bixbys fcr 
 generations back stepped out an' began ter dance 
 an' yell, an' ter rattle their dry bones at him." 
 
 He closed his eyes and shuddered and remained 
 silent for several minutes. His auditors shuddered 
 also, and a creepy feeling ran over Mrs. Bent and 
 Ruth ; but they did not speak. 
 
 " Well, sir, he was in thet tomb fer three nights 
 an' two days afore they found him, though it 
 seemed ages to him. Yer see, when he didn't put 
 in an appearance fer breakfast next morning, an' 
 Jean saw thet his bed had not been disturbed, Nor- 
 man suspected thet something was wrong; fer the 
 tutor had told him 'bout Don's night rambles, and 
 thet he was going to follow him some .night, so he 
 told his father, and then Mr. Bixby took Don in 
 tow. Of course Don didn't know anything about 
 the tutor and acted the roll of injured innocence 
 ter perfection. But his father was firm and locked 
 him up, and even threatened him with the law. 
 Still he wouldn't tell ; and it was by sheer accident 
 that Mr. Bixby when he went into the cemetery on 
 the third morning after the disappearance of the 
 tutor, stumbled across a big stick covered with 
 blood, near the gate. Then he found a trail of
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 4*37 
 
 blood and traced it to the tomb door. He opened 
 the door and almost fainted at the sight that met 
 his gaze. There lay the tutor on top of one of 
 the coffins, more dead than alive. He was car- 
 ried to the house and the doctor sent for and 
 everything done for him that could be done; but 
 he never was the same afterwards. Mr. Bixby 
 was a father to him; and told him this was to be 
 his home es long es he lived. He was made one of 
 the family, an* could go an' come es he pleased es 
 long es the family lived here. 
 
 " One morning in August of that same year, Mr. 
 Bixby sent for the boys to come to his study. 
 They came stumbling up the back stairs, laughing 
 and shouting, and bounded into the room as only 
 healthy boys can. 
 
 " * Boys,' said Mr. Bixby, when they had re- 
 covered their breath sufficiently to listen. Then 
 he paused as if he had something to say that kinder 
 stuck in his throat. ' Boys,' he repeated, ' how 
 would you like to go to college? ' 
 
 " The eyes of both boys lighted up and Don 
 answered offhand, 
 
 " ' Oh, that would be bully, Pa! ' 
 
 "Norman didn't reply; he just stood with his 
 hand resting on the back of his father's chair. 
 The smile had faded from his lips, and he looked 
 sort of sad like. 
 
 "'And what does Norman say?' asked Mr. 
 Bixby, noticing the changed expression of his 
 face.
 
 438 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " ' Oh, I should like to go, Pa ; but what will 
 you do? You will be so lonely here without us,' 
 answered Norman, his voice quivering in spite of 
 his efforts to control it. 
 
 '<* ' Listen to the sick baby mewling for his pap ! ' 
 sneered Don, turning a scornful glance on his 
 brother. 
 
 " ' Come, Don, that is sufficient ! ' interrupted 
 Mr. Bixby sternly. Then rising from his seat, and 
 laying his hand tenderly on the lad's shoulder, he 
 continued in a softer tone, ' Don, my boy, it would 
 be far better for you if you could mewl, as you call 
 it, a little bit, be it ever so little. I should be a 
 happy man this day could I see a little tenderness 
 creep into your heart.' 
 
 " Don hung his head in dogged silence as his 
 father went on : 
 
 " * This lack of natural kindliness in your make- 
 up, Don, has long been a source of sorrow to me ; 
 and has caused me to hesitate about sending you 
 away from my restraining hand. At college you 
 will be among strangers, young men of your own 
 age, and older ; among whom exists a certain code 
 of honor whichf you will be expected to live up to. 
 They will not always tolerate your hasty words and 
 ungenerous actions ; and I sometimes fear for the 
 consequences. My boy, for the sake of the name 
 you bear, a name that has never yet borne a stain 
 of dishonor; and for the sake of your angel mother, 
 whose life paid the ransom for yours, learn to curb 
 your ugly temper! Try also to overcome that
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 439 
 
 pernicious habit of sneering at the little good you 
 happen to see in your fellow-men. Cultivate kind- 
 ness and generosity towards all. Such a spirit will 
 make you, if not a great man, certainly a good 
 man, which I consider better. Always remember 
 what the good book says : ' He that is slow to 
 anger is better than the mighty ; and he that ruleth 
 his spirit than he that taketh a city.' My desire 
 is that you become good rather than mighty." 
 His manner had grown eloquent as he proceeded, 
 and great tears rolled down his cheeks as he gazed 
 on his wayward son. 
 
 " Don stood in passive silence. Not the quiver 
 of a muscle betrayed his inward feelings; not a 
 penitent word or look did he give to raise a hope 
 in his father's breast. His stoic manner quite un- 
 manned the old gentleman, and he sank in his 
 chair with a deep drawn sigh. 
 
 " For a moment an oppressive silence reigned in 
 the room, broken only by the tick of the great clock 
 in the corner; when suddenly Don broke in with: 
 
 " * When are we going, Pa? ' 
 
 " Don didn't even look at his father when he 
 spoke. 
 
 " The question and the tone in which it was 
 asked sounded strangely cold and unsympathetic 
 to the ears of his sensitive father just at that time. 
 It brought him back to the present with a start, 
 and with an unpleasant feeling that an immeasur- 
 able gulf had suddenly yawned between him and 
 this fractious son. He looked at him sadly.
 
 440 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 "'In about four weeks. That is all now, boys; 
 you may go.' He tried to speak calmly ; but his 
 voice trembled painfully. 
 
 " During all this time, Norman had stood be- 
 hind his father's chair with his hand resting lightly 
 on the back of it. When Mr. Bixby dismissed the 
 boys, Don turned on his heel and left the room 
 without a word and rushed pell-mell down the 
 stairs; but Norman stooped over and kissed his 
 father on the forehead with the tenderness of a 
 girl. 
 
 " ' Father,' he said, his voice trembling slightly, 
 ' let me stay at home with you.' 
 
 " Mr. Bixby took the hand that had crept si- 
 lently into his and said gently, 
 
 " ' No, Norman, you shall both go. I am grow- 
 ing old, and I would like to see you both settled in 
 your chosen professions before I pass to the Great 
 Beyond. I have no fears for you, my lad, for 
 you are too much like your sainted mother to 
 ever stoop to do a dishonorable act. Yes, you 
 are like your mother ! ' he said, his voice tender 
 with emotion. Then in a sudden burst of impa- 
 tience he sprang to his feet exclaiming, ' But Don 
 is an insidious devil ! ' 
 
 " His head dropped on his breast, as if he was 
 ashamed to look the world in the face, and he 
 paced the room excitedly. Norman waited till 
 his father calmed down a little, then approached 
 him, saying, as he threw his arm across the 
 trembling shoulders,
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 441 
 
 " * Have patience, Pa. Don may change when 
 he grows older.' 
 
 " The father stopped in his walk, and taking the 
 fair, almost girlish face between his palms said 
 softly, 
 
 " ' Let us hope so, Norman ! Now leave me ; I 
 have some writing to do.' He stooped and kissed 
 the fair face and released it ; and turning away, 
 seated himself at his desk. 
 
 " Norman bade his father a respectful ' good- 
 morning ' and retired. Down the back stairs and 
 out of the kitchen door he went, and stood on the 
 steps, looking very sad and solemn. Don was 
 lying stretched at full length on the grass under 
 this apple-tree; but Norman didn't notice him. 
 
 " ' Hello, sniveler! ' jeered Don, loud enough to 
 reach his father through the open window of his 
 study. ' Did him get an extra sugar-plum for 
 being a doody boy? ' 
 
 " Norman strode over to where he lay ; his 
 flushed face and clenched fists showed the intensity 
 of his anger. He hissed rather than spoke, 
 
 " * Don Bixby, I feel like thrashing you to 
 within an inch of your life ! ' 
 
 " * Why don't the girlie try it on? ' sneered Don 
 without stirring. 
 
 " * Because it would add more pain to that which 
 your heartless conduct has already given to the 
 noblest of fathers ! ' replied Norman, looking down 
 on his counterpart with a curl of contempt on his 
 handsome lips.
 
 442 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " ' Oh, I suppose my prowess is not taken into 
 account in your burst of parental championship ! ' 
 said Don with a provoking yawn. 
 
 "'Prowess?' exclaimed Norman scornfully, 
 ' brutality you mean.' 
 
 " ' Just as it suits your lordship. The distinc- 
 tion between the terms was too fine to be perceiv- 
 able in the days of Brian de Bois Guilbert, and I 
 see no necessity for stretching the point at this 
 late day. His tone and manner, though calm, 
 was exasperating. 
 
 " * Have you no conception of filial duty ! ' ex- 
 claimed Norman indignantly. 
 
 " Not if whining like a sick girl, or licking the 
 old man's hand, as a whipped cur licks that of his 
 master, on every trivial occasion constitutes duty,' 
 he replied sneeringly, clasping his hands under 
 his head and gazing up among the motionless 
 leaves. 
 
 " ' For shame ! Don Bixby ! to show such disre- 
 gard for the feelings of a father who has unself- 
 ishly devoted the best years of his life in trying to 
 make you in spirit what you are in name, a Bixby. 
 Is there not even a spark of honor in your soul ! ' 
 exclaimed Norman passionately, with a half pity- 
 ing, half appealing look into the upturned face at 
 his feet. 
 
 " ' I fear not ! ' he answered indolently, heaving 
 a mock sigh of regret. ' All the family virtues 
 seem to have been doled out to you. Patience, 
 affection, gentleness, honor, and courage, all these,
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 443 
 
 nature, in her prodigality, has spread over y.ou. 
 Nay, more, she has patted them in to each crevice 
 of your carcass with such lavishness that she had 
 none left wherewith to garnish me to a decent 
 seasoning. Why, even now you are swelling, al- 
 most to bursting with that gentleness of spirit 
 which passeth all understanding.' 
 
 " The stinging sarcasm of this last rejoinder 
 cut to the quick, and fanned Norman's righteous 
 anger to a white heat. He longed to throttle the 
 arrant rogue ; but the knowledge of his father's 
 disapproval of anything savoring of a brawl be- 
 tween his sons held him in check. Knowing the 
 utter futility of further expostulation, and blows 
 being out of the question, Norman turned upon his 
 heel and strode rapidly away, followed by a peal 
 of derisive laughter from the victorious Don. 
 
 " Norman's blood boiled with indignation and 
 resentment ; and on reaching the gate he paused 
 in indecision. A strong inclination impelled him 
 to return and have it out with the unfeeling scamp. 
 Clutching the gate with one hand, and wheeling 
 half-way round, as if to obey this natural impulse, 
 he happened to raise his eyes. There at the study 
 window stood his father, smiling upon him. He 
 read approbation in the smile, and rightly sur- 
 mised that his father had seen and heard all that 
 had passed. The laughter of Don instantly lost 
 its cutting edge. His father's eyes seemed to 
 say: 
 
 " ' You have done right, my boy ; brothers
 
 444 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 should never come to blows, no matter what the 
 provocation ! ' 
 
 " Norman bowed his head in submission, opened 
 the gate, passed out, and walked rapidly up the 
 road. He placed a long stretch of the open coun- 
 try road between himself and Don; then vaulting 
 the fence, he crossed several fields, and plunged 
 into the woods. And there, finding a secluded 
 spot on the border of the lake, he threw himself 
 on the ground to think. 
 
 " In the past Norman's sensitive nature had re- 
 ceived many a wound through the splenitive tem- 
 per of Don, which time in a measure had healed. 
 Norman could forgive where only he himself were 
 concerned. But here was another matter. His 
 father had been insulted. And that insult dealt 
 to his father opened a breach between himself and 
 Don which, so he felt, time would be powerless to 
 close. He was done with Don forever. His heart 
 had received a wound which all the balm of Gilead 
 could not heal. 
 
 " Lying prone on the cool, fragrant earth, his 
 hot cheeks fanned by the forest breezes, his anger 
 soon passed away and left him calm and collected. 
 Up to the moment of the proposition made by his 
 father, scarcely an hour before, Norman Bixby 
 had been merely a great healthy boy at heart. 
 The thought of going to college sent a new cur- 
 rent through his veins, and awakened a train of 
 thoughts in his mind which suddenly transformed 
 him into a man ; and his parley with Don brought
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 445 
 
 home the ugly fact that, though brothers, they 
 had nothing in common. 
 
 " The truth struck him so forcibly that it stag- 
 gered him for a while. Try as he would, he could 
 not rid himself of the feeling that Don and he had 
 reached the parting of the ways, and that each, 
 perhaps unconsciously, had branched into his 
 chosen path; and furthermore, that those paths 
 had already diverged to a considerable degree. 
 He reviewed the whole course of his life, and 
 planned his future as calmly as if he were twenty- 
 five instead of nineteen. In this review of the past 
 and plan of the future, Don was a prominent fig- 
 ure. Norman could recall no act of his domineer- 
 ing brother which did not savor of tyranny, insult, 
 or oppression ; all of which he had borne with the 
 patience of a cowed child. Such patience was no 
 longer permissible. It was inconsistent with an 
 honorable manhood ; and he must devise ways and 
 means to break Don's power over him ; and at the 
 same time avoid an open rupture. 
 
 " After an hour's deliberation he had reached 
 one conclusion : namely, that he would not enter 
 the same college with Don. Beyond this, his 
 plans, though clear, were not conclusive, but were 
 made subject to the approval of his father. By 
 this time the sun had risen high, and its scorching 
 heat, beating down between the branches on his 
 upturned face, reminded him that noon was ap- 
 proaching; so he rose, and leisurely wended his 
 way homeward.
 
 446 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " When he reached home lunch was ready, and 
 hastily removing all traces of his long, dusty walk, 
 he joined his father and Don at the table. There 
 was a cold reserve in his bearing when he an- 
 swered a question put to him by Don, which his 
 father was quick to perceive, and a proud look in 
 his eye that gave an added charm to his handsome 
 face. 
 
 " It was evident to Norman that something had 
 gone contrary to Don's expectations, for he ate 
 his dinner in sullen silence, a mood he generally 
 adopted when things didn't just suit him. When 
 dessert was served Mr. Bixby leaned back in his 
 chair, and toying with his spoon, said, 
 
 " * Norman, I have been thinking the matter 
 over in regard to the colleges you boys are to 
 enter; and I have decided on Harvard for you and 
 Dartmouth for Don. How does that arrangement 
 suit you? ' 
 
 " ' It suits me to a T ! ' replied Norman, exult- 
 ingly, his face lighting up to learn that his father 
 had anticipated his wishes. 
 
 " * Of course it will suit him,' snarled Don. 
 'Why shouldn't it? But I don't think it's fair 
 just the same. I am the older and should go to 
 the larger college. If there is anything to be 
 gained I am entitled to it. But I think we should 
 both go to the same college.' 
 
 " * The difference between your ages, Don, is 
 so slight that it has no weight as against what I 
 think is best for all concerned. For the present,
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 447 
 
 you go to Dartmouth. If you come out with a 
 good record there is no reason why you shouldn't 
 go to Harvard for your M.D. It all depends on 
 yourself.' He rose from the table as he finished 
 speaking, which signified that the matter was 
 closed, and turned to leave the room. 
 
 " Don rose from the table also, and giving his 
 chair a vicious kick backwards, sent it skimming 
 across the highly polished floor. The scratching 
 noise made by the moving chair, arrested his 
 father's attention ; and turning quickly, Mr. 
 Bixby caught the look of hatred which Don had 
 flashed after him. The surprise was mutual ; but 
 ere either could speak, the chair which Don had 
 sent scudding behind him brought up short against 
 a small mahogany table on which a winged Mer- 
 cury of Parian marble stood balancing himself 
 gracefully on the tips of the toes of his right foot. 
 There was a thud, a crash, a mix-up of splintering 
 furniture, and amidst the wreck, lay the beautiful 
 statuette shattered in a hundred pieces. 
 
 " All eyes were instantly bent upon the debris. 
 Don wheeled quickly and his cheeks blanched when 
 he saw the result of his ugly temper; for the stat- 
 uette belonged to him and he had prized it highly. 
 For once Don was dismayed. The dismay, how- 
 ever, was not caused wholly by the sight of the 
 ruin he had wrought, but mainly by the thought 
 that his father had seen the momentary gleam of 
 hatred in his eyes. He feared his father might 
 construe it to mean more than it really meant.
 
 448 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 Though wholly lacking in natural affection, still 
 Don cherished a sort of filial respect for his father ; 
 and he did not wish to forfeit entirely the little 
 confidence his father retained in him. 
 
 " Silence reigned for several seconds after the 
 crash. Then raising his eyes, Don met the sor- 
 rowful gaze of his father fixed on him. Hanging 
 his head in a sort of sulky penitence, he muttered, 
 
 " ' I didn't mean it, Father.' 
 
 " Mr. Bixby, ever ready to catch at the slight- 
 est straw to save his boy, accepted even this small 
 show of regret as a peace offering. But realizing 
 that for him to allow the matter to pass unre- 
 buked would be unwise, he said quietly, 
 
 " ' Don, I will see you in my study.' Then he 
 left the room, closely followed by Don, who ap- 
 peared to be very much cowed by the turn affairs 
 had taken. 
 
 ** Just what took place in the study never tran- 
 spired; but for the rest of the summer Don was 
 on his good behavior; and while Norman could 
 not quite forget the past, he was inclined to meet 
 the good offices of Don half-way ; and the last 
 week of their stay at home was the most peaceful 
 of their lives. 
 
 " The morning of their departure for college 
 arrived. A dull, murky sky, with a light driz- 
 zling rain, served somewhat to dampen the ardor 
 of their youthful spirits. For who so callous as 
 not to feel the depressing influence of a heavy 
 atmosphere at such a time, a time when home ties
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 449 
 
 are about to be broken, perhaps, forever. The 
 wagon with the trunks had already started for 
 the depot; and the family carriage stood at the 
 gate, with the horses impatiently champing their 
 bits and pawing the ground, as if they too felt the 
 gloom impending over the house. 
 
 " Mr. Bixby, with his hands clasped behind his 
 back, paced the floor of his study. He was wait- 
 ing for the boys, who were to meet him there for 
 a few last words. It was evident that he felt the 
 parting keenly, for the lines in his face were deeper 
 and he seemed to stoop more than usual. They 
 came at last ; and it was plain to be seen that they 
 too felt the pangs of parting, for their manner 
 was subdued and quiet. 
 
 " After a few words of greeting Mr. Bixby 
 opened a secret drawer in his secretary, before 
 which he had seated himself, and took therefrom a 
 small casket of blue velvet. He held it on his out- 
 stretched palm and gazed for several seconds ten- 
 derly on the oblong bit of faded blue. Then 
 touching a hidden clasp, the lid flew open. Both 
 boys gave an exclamation of wonder. And well 
 they might ; for there on a bed of soft blue satin, 
 lay two tiny glittering serpents. On a closer look 
 the boys saw that the serpents were designed for 
 finger rings, and were exactly alike in workman- 
 ship. The serpents lay coiled in a natural posi- 
 tion, their heads slightly raised, as though ready 
 to spring, with their forked tongues protruding 
 from between their wide gaping jaws. Each
 
 450 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 fork was tipped with a ruby, and rows of diamonds 
 were set in the jaws in imitation of teeth. Eyes 
 of emeralds of the greenest hue emitted a peculiar 
 light. And like a delicate mosaic, the bodies were 
 wrought in scale-like links, each scale being 
 studded with minute gems of various kinds. 
 
 " Holding the casket where the gray light, 
 streaming in through the windows, fell aslant the 
 gems as they nestled among the shimmering folds 
 of blue, the jewels seemed to take fire. They scin- 
 tillated with a soft glow until the serpents ap- 
 peared to writhe and then to be actually alive. 
 
 " ' Boys,' slowly began Mr. Bixby, his eyes still 
 fixed on the rings, ' these rings were sent to your 
 mother as a wedding gift from a very dear friend 
 in India. One was for her; the other, for me. 
 Your mother, having a strong antipathy to ser- 
 pents as indeed most women have would 
 never wear hers ; and I, because of her dislike to 
 their form, would never wear mine ; and for nearly 
 thirty-five years they have lain in their casket un- 
 disturbed. As you can readily see, they are of 
 immense value; and besides, there is an Oriental 
 myth attached to their history. 
 
 " * When your mother lay on her deathbed, she 
 requested me to keep the rings until her baby boys 
 were old enough to go to college, and then to give 
 one to each, with her blessing ; and to tell her boys 
 that so long as they remained upright and honor- 
 able, the jewels would retain their luster. But 
 should her boys depart from the path of rectitude,
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 451 
 
 then immediately the fires of the jewels would be 
 quenched. I promised to carry out her wishes, 
 and shortly after she passed away.* 
 
 " Picking up the rings, he placed one on the 
 finger of each of the boys, saying as he did so : 
 
 " * These are the legacies of your sainted 
 mother. Whenever you look upon them think of 
 her and remember that her last thoughts were of 
 her boys and of their possible future. May these 
 tokens of her love be an incentive to each of you 
 to strive to reach the highest goal of honorable 
 manhood. Let your motto be : " For her sake." 
 
 " A few moments later they were all on their 
 way to the depot, where Mr. Bixby saw them off, 
 each to his respective destination."
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 JETHRO'S STORY (Continued) 
 
 " The first two years passed away with little of 
 note, more than pertains to life in general, to 
 break the monotony of the daily routine which 
 had fallen to the lot of the family at the ' Maples.' 
 
 " ' The boys are hame agin,' whispered Jean to 
 a young lady whom she met in the aisle as she en- 
 tered church on the first Sunday after the return 
 of Don and Norman for their second summer's 
 vacation. 
 
 " ' So I see," replied the young lady with a droll 
 smile, glancing in the direction of the Bixby pew, 
 where Mr. Bixby and his two handsome sons were 
 seated, the observed of all observers. ' Rather 
 overgrown boys though, I should say.' 
 
 " Jean gave a little smothered laugh, and apolo- 
 gized. 
 
 " * Ah, weal, Lida, ye ken they are only boys 
 tae me. I hae na' got used tae cauin' them 
 " young gentlemen " yet.' 
 
 " * Oh, I am willing to forgive you for the mis- 
 nomer, Jean,' hastily replied the young lady, with 
 an arch smile. ' Only I must warn you not to let 
 
 Don hear you talking about the boys ; for I am 
 452
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 453 
 
 inclined to think he will resent being called a boy 
 now.' 
 
 " * Aye, it is nae like Don tae tak onything at 
 its true worth,' said Jean, shaking her head 
 gravely. Then looking earnestly into the face of 
 the young lady, she continued : ' An' I maun gie 
 you a wee bit warning tae. Dinna cast those bon- 
 nie eens in the face o' Fate ! Keep them aff the 
 Bixby pew the day ! ' And with this homely coun- 
 sel, Jean left her and walked sedately down the 
 aisle to her seat. 
 
 " The bonnie eyes referred to followed the mov- 
 ing figure of Jean with a queer expression, half 
 question, half surprise in their depths. Not till 
 Jean was seated in her pew behind Norman Bixby 
 did the full import of Jean's meaning become clear 
 to the owner of those bonnie eyes. 
 
 " As Jean settled herself in her seat, Norman 
 turned half round to hand her an open hymn-book. 
 As he did so, he raised his eyes and met the puzzled 
 gaze of Lida Gray, standing just where Jean had 
 left her a moment before. He smiled and bowed 
 in recognition and immediately turned away, lest 
 anyone should detect the light in his eyes. 
 
 " Lida smiled and blushed crimson ; and a pecul- 
 iar feeling permeated her whole being. She un- 
 derstood Jean's warning in part now, and wanted 
 to cry out, 
 
 " ' Ah, Jean, your warning came too late ! I 
 had already tempted Fate ere you spoke ! ' 
 
 Jed broke off his narrative as though suddenly
 
 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 recollecting himself, uncrossed his legs with a nerv- 
 ous twitch of his whole body, shot his chin forward 
 toward Mrs. Bent, and asked, 
 
 " Jer ever sec Lida Gray? " 
 
 " Do you mean Miss Gray who lives in the white 
 cottage below? " 
 
 " The same ; hes she ever called on yer ? " 
 
 " No, but I have met her and have walked home 
 with her several times." 
 
 " Nice person, hey? " 
 
 "Very." 
 
 " Come ter think o' it, I wonder why she didn't 
 let me know the old place was occypied," he mused, 
 his face assuming a meditative expression as his 
 eyes wandered wistfully over the meadows to a big 
 red chimney just visible above the treetops. 
 
 " Miss Gray has been away since early in July 
 and only returned last Saturday. I doubt 
 whether she knows of our having the house. You 
 know we boarded in town up to our coming out 
 here," explained Mrs. Bent. 
 
 " Oh, thet accounts fer it ! " exclaimed Jed with 
 a deep drawn sigh of relief, speaking more to him- 
 self than to Mrs. Bent. After a short pause he 
 asked, " Do you call her pretty ? " 
 
 " I call her handsome rather than pretty," re- 
 plied Mrs. Bent, smiling at the manner in which 
 the question was put rather than at the question 
 itself. " She is what might be termed a matured 
 beauty; and besides, she is a very superior per- 
 son."
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 455 
 
 " Jes so," assented Jed with a smile of ap- 
 proval. " She alers was a superior pusson, even 
 when she was no bigger 'n a pint o' cider. Yer 
 see the Grays were the nearest neighbors o' the 
 Bixbys when they moved out here; an' Lida, who 
 was just one year younger than the boys, was the 
 only playfellow they ever had. She made an ideal 
 companion for the lonely little fellows, 'cause she 
 was so sweet an* winsome like. She had tact and 
 force as well, which operated as a sort of balance 
 between the uneven tempers of the boys, many 
 times preventing Don from carrying his dominance 
 too far, and Norman, from sinking into a state of 
 absolute servility to Don's whims. Her influence 
 was a sort of check to one, and spur to the other, 
 as it were. 
 
 " Things went along finely until Lida was fif- 
 teen, when she was sent away ter boarding school. 
 That was the year the tutor came to the Maples. 
 The boys missed her terribly that fust year she 
 was gone, especially Norman ; an' he spent more'n 
 half his time writing to her. Lida wrote every 
 week ter Norman ; and once in a while she would 
 write to Don. 
 
 " Yer see, Norman was her favorite, 'cause he 
 never got angry as Don did ; and there was a kind 
 o' chivalry in his nature thet alers appeals ter 
 girls like Lida. It was he who helped her over 
 the stone walls and rough places ; he who gave her 
 the largest nuts and most luscious berries to be 
 found in their long rambles through the woods ;
 
 456 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 and once, when a storm came up suddenly, he took 
 off his coat an' wrapped it about her ter keep her 
 dry, while he walked home in his shirt sleeves and 
 got drenched. 
 
 " Arter the boys went to college she didn't write 
 as often as afore; 'cause it sort o' dawned on her 
 thet she had grown inter a young lady, and they 
 inter young gentlemen ; an' her innate modesty 
 forbade the forcing of herself on their attention. 
 So the letters came less frequently, were shorter 
 an' more formal, and finally ceased altogether. 
 
 " Lida didn't see the boys agin till that Sunday 
 morning in the church ; fer she had spent her vaca- 
 tions traveling in Europe, or visiting some o' her 
 relations in Boston. But the moment her eyes 
 met Norman's, she knowed as how Jean's warning 
 want of no account. 
 
 " I guess Jean knowed it too, 'cause she saw 
 Lida's eyes sparkle when they looked towards the 
 Bixby pew ; fer women, yer know, are mighty quick 
 ter detect sech things. Only, it wan't Norman 
 thet Jean thought of; it was Don. Yer see the 
 boys had been home some two weeks at that time; 
 and Jean had overheard Don bragging ter the 
 tutor of the conquests he had made in the college 
 town, and boasting of the havoc he meant ter play 
 among the hearts of the young ladies of his native 
 town during the summer, until poor, motherly 
 Jean felt like climbing to the top of Mount Wash- 
 ington and shouting in trumpet tones over the val- 
 ley, * Girls, beware of Don Bixby ! ' 

 
 JETHRO'S STORY 457 
 
 " Jean had also heard Don inquire about Lida ; 
 whether she had grown up as beautiful as her girl- 
 hood had promised ; and whether she was expected 
 home for the summer. Don had learned that Lida 
 would be at church that morning, a fact which ac- 
 counted for his presence at the morning service, 
 for Don had fallen sadly away from church going 
 during his two years at college. 
 
 " Jean took a mighty lot of interest in them 
 young people. Yer see, she had watched them 
 grow up together; and having had no children of 
 her own, she jest worshiped them three. It was 
 queer too, the freaks she took. For all she 
 knowed what a devil incarnate Don was, she would 
 never say a word agin him. Somehow she had sot 
 her heart on Lida's marrying one of the boys ; and 
 while she had her preference, an' hoped it would 
 be Norman, she would shake her head sometimes 
 and say, 
 
 " ' Ah, weal, girls is more contrary than mules, 
 an' it would be jes like Lida tae faw i' loe wi Don's 
 masterfue spirit than wi Norman's gentle mien ; 
 an' it wadna surprise me if Don should jes play 
 possom till the last moment, an' then mak a bril- 
 liant dash an' carry her heart by storm ; while 
 Norman was carefully laying his plans for a long 
 seige.' 
 
 " But Lord bless you, Jean's fears were all un- 
 founded in this case. While it may be true that 
 women admire strength in the opposite sex, it 
 doesn't stand that every woman is a durn fool,
 
 458 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 an' can't distinguish between strength and pure 
 cussedness. 
 
 " Once when Jean was talking to Lida 'bout how 
 strong-willed Don was, Lida jes sniffed up her nose 
 an' said, 
 
 " ' Strong-willed ! don't talk to me about any 
 man's being strong-willed who can't control his 
 own temper! Don Bixby is the weakest kind of 
 a weakling. The real strength of any man is 
 shown in the good he does, not in the evil. The 
 best man in the world can drift into wickedness ; 
 but the bad man can not drift into goodness. If 
 the bad man ever does become good and remains 
 so for any length of time, it will be by sheer force 
 of will-power. Bad men are bad not because they 
 arc strong, but because they are too weak minded 
 to conquer their own evil natures.' 
 
 " Well, sir, from that Sunday till the end of 
 the vacation, Don put in most of his time shining 
 up to Lida, jes es Jean thought he would ; while 
 Norman spent his time helping his father on some 
 scientific work that he was compiling. 
 
 " Lida came to the house occasionally during 
 the first few weeks just as she had been accustomed 
 to do all her life ; but it was plain to be seen that 
 Don's attention annoyed her ; that she didn't ac- 
 cept his gallantries as graciously as in the days of 
 old, when they were playmates. It was also plain 
 to everyone, except Norman himself, that she was 
 piqued and hurt at Norman's holding himself aloof 
 from her; and after awhile she stopped coming.
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 459 
 
 " The last week of vacation arrived ere Mr. 
 Bixby's book was in the hands of the printer and 
 Norman found himself free to indulge in a little 
 recreation of his own choosing. He had toiled 
 patiently and incessantly in helping his father to 
 carry out this one great desire of his heart. He 
 had unselfishly devoted the whole summer to the 
 work, denying himself even necessary rest at times. 
 But now the work was done and he was free. As 
 he came down the path late in the afternoon of the 
 day on which the last page had been corrected and 
 the manuscript sent off, he looked like a modern 
 Atlas who had suddenly pitched the world from his 
 shoulders and stepped forth unburdened. It was 
 certainly a relief to see the buoyancy of his step 
 and the animation of his pale face as he set off 
 across the meadows for Lida's. But he was not 
 prepared for the news that awaited him. Lida 
 had gone away the night before on an extended 
 visit to her uncle. 
 
 " Chagrined and disappointed, he returned 
 home. On reaching the gate, there stood Don, 
 smirking and affable, a mannerism of his, which 
 Norman had learned to dread more than any other, 
 as it always prefaced some sly stroke of deviltry. 
 
 " ' I might have saved you that long walk had 
 you but told me you were going to call on Lida," 
 said Don in condescending tones, taking his cigar 
 from his mouth and flipping the ashes off the 
 end. 
 
 " * The walk did me no harm ; besides I owed a
 
 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 visit to Mrs. Gray,' replied Norman carelessly, 
 placing his hand on the gate to open it. 
 
 "'Was she at home?' 
 
 " ' Yes.' 
 
 " ' Did she tell the news ? ' And balancing the 
 cigar daintily between his fingers, he raised it to 
 his lips and gave a few gentle whiffs while Norman 
 answered, 
 
 " ' Yes ; she told me that Lida had gone away 
 on a visit.' 
 
 "'Nothing else?' 
 
 " ' Nothing else of any importance.' 
 
 " ' Oh, then you don't consider Lida's engage- 
 ment of any importance? ' The words seemed to 
 drop with perfect indifference, as he changed his 
 position and leaned sideways against the fence, his 
 eyes gleaming with a sinister light through the 
 clouds of white smoke that rose from between his 
 sneering lips. Norman felt rather than saw the 
 look. 
 
 " ' Lida's engagement ! ' exclaimed Norman, 
 starting and turning a shade paler. 
 
 "'Then she didn't tell you?' And another 
 cloud of smoke half veiled his face. 
 
 " ' No, she didn't tell me that,' he said, with a 
 sort of dazed look in his eyes. 
 
 "'No?' 
 
 " ' No.' 
 
 " ' Ah, well, perhaps she expects me to break it 
 to you?' Another cloud of smoke rolled upward 
 and melted in space, as he paused to note the ef-
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 461 
 
 feet of his words. ' You know, Nor,' he went on 
 patronizingly after a brief period, removing the 
 cigar stub from his lips, ' up to the present sum- 
 mer you had the odds on your side ; but thanks to 
 that little scheme of Father's, which kept you busy 
 and out of the way of mischief, I have had a 
 chance to get my innings. I have won her fairly ; 
 she is mine now; and I shall expect you to act 
 accordingly.' The last words were uttered more 
 like a threat, which he emphasized by hurling the 
 cigar stub across the road. 
 
 " Norman waited to hear no more. Pushing 
 open the gate, he rushed through and past his tor- 
 mentor ; dashed up the path, into the house, up the 
 stairs, and into his own room. Nobody saw him 
 till next morning at the breakfast table. What- 
 ever battle he had to fight, he fought it manfully, 
 and came out victorious ; for there were no visible 
 effects of a struggle, except that he was a trifle 
 paler than before. As there were only a few days 
 left of his vacation, he had little time to brood 
 over his disappointment; for he had his packing 
 to oversee, and many things to do in connection 
 with his leaving home. 
 
 " Three years passed before Norman saw Lida 
 again. Meantime many things had happened. 
 Norman had graduated with high honors and re- 
 turned home. An' I tell you it was one of the 
 proudest moments of old Don Bixby's life when he 
 saw the name of ' Norman Bixby ' in gold letters 
 hung under a window of a law office in town. Nor-
 
 4-62 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 man learned that Don had lied to him about Lida's 
 engagement; and shortly after he opened his of- 
 fice, the public announcement was made of his en- 
 gagement to Lida Gray. Then everybody joined 
 hands to do them honor; and Norman was hailed 
 as the coming man of the town. 
 
 " As for Don, he was expelled from college 
 about the middle of his third year. Returning 
 home, he remained about three months and during 
 the whole time there were constant quarrels be- 
 tween him and his father, owing to his frequent 
 demands for money. Then he disappeared sud- 
 denly and for nearly two years nothing was heard 
 of him. Then Mr. Bixby learned that Don had 
 gone West and was doing fust rate. He had en- 
 tered a small college and worked his way through, 
 and had received his M.D. and was in a fair way 
 of making a man of himself. Of course this 
 pleased his father. He knew that Don was bright 
 as a gold eagle, 'cause he was a Bixby ; and 
 the Bixby s were all smart. But just the same, 
 he thought it best to let Don alone to work out his 
 own salvation; so that he neither wrote nor sent 
 Don any word to come home. 
 
 " The week following the announcement of Nor- 
 man's engagement was fair week and everybody 
 was on the tiptoe of excitement. Being one of 
 the promoters, Mr. Bixby always took great in- 
 terest in the fair, and made a rule to have the finest 
 exhibit of cattle and vegetables on the grounds. 
 You see the grounds are only a short distance up
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 463 
 
 the road, so near that you can hear the people 
 shout, the bands play, and all the other noises that 
 go to make a county fair a howling success. 
 You'll understand this better after next week, 
 'cause next Tuesday the fair opens for the fourth 
 time since that eventful week. 
 
 " It was Thursday, the big day of the fair. 
 The Governor and his staff were there; and there 
 was a tremendous big crowd. Mr. Bixby was a 
 member of the committee to receive and entertain 
 the Governor; and Norman was one of the judges 
 on the races ; so they started off bright and early 
 that morning. Old Sandy, Jean, and the tutor 
 went over about noon, having locked up the house 
 and left everything snug and slick about the place. 
 
 " About five o'clock in the afternoon Jean got 
 tired of the confusion and wanted to go home. 
 She fairly had to drag Sandy away from the cattle 
 sheds. On their way out they met Norman and 
 the three walked home together. The tutor, hav- 
 ing become separated from Sandy early in the 
 afternoon, was left to look out for himself. Mr. 
 Bixby had left the grounds soon after three 
 o'clock to escort the Governor and his staff to the 
 train. 
 
 " When they reached the house, Sandy and Jean 
 went in while Norman stood at the gate to watch 
 the passing crowds. To him it seemed he had 
 stood but a moment when a succession of screams 
 came from the house. He rushed in and followed 
 the sounds upstairs to the library, where he found
 
 464 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 his father lying on the floor, dead. Sandy was 
 kneeling beside him; and Jean was standing over 
 him, wringing her hands and screaming hysteric- 
 ally. Mr. Bixby lay on his side, and a deep dis- 
 coloration was visible on his right temple. There 
 was evidence of a struggle in the room, for the 
 furniture was disarranged and the drawers of the 
 secretary were all out and the papers scattered 
 over the floor in confusion. 
 
 " As Norman knelt beside his father to examine 
 him, to see if life was really extinct, his eyes 
 caught the glitter of something among the papers. 
 He reached for it and picked up a ring. Instinct- 
 ively he raised his hand and looked at his little 
 finger. His ring was there. Sandy saw the 
 movement and the two rings, and met the horrified 
 look in Norman's eyes with a savage scowl. 
 
 " * What's to be done, Sandy? ' asked Norman in 
 a hoarse whisper. 
 
 " ' Gi him up tae justice! ' answered Sandy, his 
 temper rising. * It's na mair than I've lang ex- 
 pected, though I didna think it would come this 
 way. Gi him up tae justice! ' he repeated. ' It's 
 na mair than he deserves ! ' 
 
 " Norman rose from the floor, dropped heavily 
 into a chair, and covering his face with his hands, 
 burst into tears. 
 
 " Sandy stooped over and straightened out the 
 limbs of his old friend and employer. After this, 
 he approached Norman and placing his hand on 
 his shoulder, said,
 
 JETHRO'S STORY H 465 
 
 " * Come, Misther Norman, you maun gi your 
 orders, for I'm aff ta toon. Maun I tell the truth 
 or ' He broke off short as Norman roused him- 
 self and interrupted him. 
 
 " * No ! no ! for God's sake, no ! ' cried Norman 
 in agony. Then rising to his feet, and drawing 
 his hand across his forehead, he appealed to Sandy. 
 ' What's to be done, Sandy? Think! think! any- 
 thing but the truth. The truth will not bring 
 him back to life; and the disgrace of it would be 
 unbearable ! ' 
 
 " ' Then let it be an apoplectic fit. I'm aff for 
 the coroner. Jean, pick up au these papers and 
 put the room tae richts ! ' ordered Sandy in his 
 broad Scotch, as he started for the door. 
 
 " In less than an hour the report had spread 
 through the town that Mr. Bixby had died sud- 
 denly of apoplexy ; and the news, coming right in 
 the middle of fair week, cast a gloom over every- 
 thing. 
 
 " The day of the funeral came ; and the whole 
 town turned out to do honor to the memory of the 
 kind old gentleman who had been loved and re- 
 spected for the common virtues he had possessed. 
 Everybody sympathized with Norman in his be- 
 reavement. The coffin was carried through the 
 gate in the rear yonder to the tomb by some of 
 the foremost men in the state, who considered it 
 an honor to act as pall-bearers. The procession 
 moved slowly along the narrow path leading to 
 the tomb, when all of a sudden, out stepped Don
 
 466 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 from behind a clump of shrubbery, a little in ad- 
 vance of the mourners. Bareheaded, he stood on 
 a small knoll until the bearers with the bier came 
 abreast of him, then he made a move forward and 
 stepped in ahead of Norman and took up his walk 
 to the tomb. 
 
 " At the tomb, he stepped to the right and Nor- 
 man to the left ; and thus they faced each other at 
 the head of the coffin. Norman raised his head ; 
 and their eyes met. Don must have read some- 
 thing in that look, for his cheeks blanched, his 
 head dropped on his breast ; and he trembled vio- 
 lently. Then he moved round the head of the 
 coffin and stood beside Norman. Norman ordered 
 the coffin opened so that Don might look once 
 more on his father's face. While this was being 
 done, Norman passed round to the right, where he 
 watched Don eagerly to note the effect. 
 
 " It was a pitiable sight to see those two 
 brothers, facing each other, alike yet not alike, 
 gazing down on the face of him who had been their 
 inseparable companion in childhood, their friend 
 and adviser in youth, and who had proved him- 
 self one of the best and most loving of fathers. 
 The contrast was marked as they stood bare- 
 headed during the committal service. One was 
 shaken with sobs of genuine grief ; the other main- 
 tained a stoic silence; the impress of a righteous 
 life brought out the manly features of one; while 
 marks of dissipation and sensual indulgence 
 blotched the face of the other.
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 467 
 
 " After the burial, the mourners returned to the 
 house; but when they looked round for Don, he 
 was not among them. Not a word had been ex- 
 changed between the brothers, nor, in fact, be- 
 tween Don and anyone else. He made his appear- 
 ance amid the silence of death and disappeared 
 amid the same death-like silence at the end of the 
 service. No one knew whence he came; no one 
 knew whence he went; and no one seemed to care. 
 
 " A week passed and nothing was seen or heard 
 of him and Norman was beginning to think he had 
 seen the last of him ; when late one afternoon, his 
 office door opened and in stalked Don, and gruffly 
 demanded his patrimony. 
 
 " When Don learned that his father had left a 
 will and cut him off with a dollar and a tract of 
 land in the southern part of the state, his rage 
 knew no bounds. He didn't want the land; he 
 wanted money, wanted it right away. To get rid 
 of him once for all, Norman gave him the cash 
 value of the land and took a deed for the same. 
 Then Don again disappeared as mysteriously as 
 he had come."
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 JETHRO'S STORY (Concluded) 
 
 " About the middle of December, I think it was 
 Christmas week, one cold, frosty night, a heavy 
 knock shook the kitchen door; and when Sandy 
 opened it, Don staggered in. 
 
 " ' Hello, Sandy ! can't you give a fellow a 
 shelter such a night as this? ' he sang out, throw- 
 ing himself into a chair beside the table and 
 stretching his legs out towards the stove. * I'm 
 dead broke; and like the Nazarine that Dad used 
 to tell about, I have no place to lay my head.' 
 
 " * It's mair the shame for ye ta tell it ! ' chided 
 Sandy, fixing his cold gray eyes on the bloated 
 face of this self-styled older son of the house. 
 * It's na lang sin ye had yer portion paid o'er ta 
 ye ; but like the prodigal yer guid father used ta 
 tell ye aboot, ye hae muddled it awae in riotous 
 living. But ye maun remember, Don, there's na 
 guid father noo ta kill the fatted calf an' rejoice 
 at the prodigal's return. Nay, nay! Ye did for 
 him, Don, the guid, guid man ! ' 
 
 " * Who says I killed my father? ' shouted Don 
 fiercely, springing to his feet and bringing his 
 
 clenched fist down on the table with a thud that 
 468
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 469 
 
 set the milk-pans on it a-rattling. * Whoever 
 says so is a damned liar ! ' His eyes blazed with 
 a wicked light; but Sandy didn't scare worth a 
 cent. 
 
 " ' Nabody says ye killt him, Don ; a guilty con- 
 science needs na accuser ! ' mildly insinuated 
 Sandy, meeting the bluster of Don with a calm- 
 ness that at once cowed the fiery spirit of the 
 young reprobate. 
 
 " * Why is it, Sandy ? ' he asked in a shaky 
 voice, as he dropped back into his chair, all of a 
 tremble, * that both you and Norman accuse me 
 of killing my father? ' 
 
 " * Nay, nay, lad ! we do not accuse you of kill- 
 ing him ; we only accuse you of causing his death,' 
 replied Sandy in a softer and more kindly tone 
 than he had yet used. 
 
 " Don leaned eagerly towards Sandy, who had 
 seated himself at the opposite side of the table, 
 
 " ' Come, Sandy, what's the difference between 
 killing a man and causing his death ? ' 
 
 " ' Why, ye see, Don, ye didna mean ta kill him. 
 Ye couldna mean ta kill yer guid, kind, old 
 father ! ' said Sandy, as if appealing to the latent 
 manhood within. 
 
 " ' You are right, Sandy ! It was an accident.' 
 And Don covered his face with his hands; but 
 whether in sorrow or in shame, Sandy was at a loss 
 to determine. After a brief space of time, he took 
 a soiled handkerchief from his pocket and wiped 
 his eyes. Sandy shook his head sadly at the sight
 
 4-70 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 of the dirty cotton, as he thought of how low the 
 fastidious Don had fallen. 
 
 " * I'll explain how it happened, Sandy,' he 
 said, pulling himself together. * I was in the 
 house when father came home that afternoon, and 
 he ordered me out. I told him I had no money 
 and begged him to give me enough to get me to 
 Boston; but he refused point-blank. I pleaded 
 with him ; but he remained firm. Finally he said 
 he would give me the money if I would give him 
 my ring. He said that I had disgraced it ; that 
 the charm was broken ; that it was no longer a 
 talisman. I had become deeply attached to the 
 ring and did not want to part with it; and of 
 course I refused. But I soon saw that father 
 was bent on getting it. I held it up and looked 
 at it and saw what I had not seen before, that the 
 eyes of the serpent had lost their brilliancy and 
 were nothing but dull, dark stones. The dia- 
 monds, too, hsfd lost their luster and resembled 
 pieces of ordinary glass. The ring had indeed 
 lost its charm for me. I took it off and gave it 
 to him and he immediately gave me the money ; 
 telling me at the same time that he would furnish 
 me with no more under any circumstances ; that I 
 had received my last dollar from him. Naturally, 
 my temper rose, and I said some cutting things. 
 
 " ' But Father never answered ; he simply turned 
 his back on me and picked up the ring from the 
 desk where I had laid it, and held it between his 
 fingers. As he did so, all their former dazzling
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 471 
 
 brilliancy seemed to return to the stones. I can- 
 not tell what took possession of me ; but I wanted 
 that ring again, so I sprang for it. We grappled ; 
 and in the struggle that followed he seemed to be 
 the stronger. He was bearing me down when I 
 got my arm loose and dealt him a blow on the 
 temple. I felt his grasp weaken, and with one 
 mighty effort, I flung him to the floor. I saw him 
 gasp, but in my eagerness to get possession of the 
 ring, I did not realize what had really happened. 
 I picked it up but did not put it on. Then I 
 opened the drawers to look for more money, and 
 in my haste dropped the ring, and before I could 
 find it among the papers, I heard you and Jean 
 come in. I had no chance to leave the house, so 
 I hid in the loft. I heard you say, " Gi him up 
 ta justice! " And I heard Norman plead for me. 
 Then I knew I was safe. There Sandy, I have 
 told you all. And God knows how I have suf- 
 fered for my crime ! But all my suffering doesn't 
 help me ; I am a born devil ! ' 
 
 " Don's confession and apparent repentance, 
 as evidenced in his closing words, really softened 
 Sandy's heart toward the * puir prodigal ' ; and 
 the faithful old fellow stood ready to help him as 
 he had been accustomed to help him in the past. 
 Laying his hand affectionately on Don's shoulder, 
 he said reverently, 
 
 " * May the guid Loard help ye ta turn fra 
 your wicked life before it is too late! ' His heart 
 was too full to say more.
 
 472 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " Sandy then bustled around and soon had a 
 substantial supper on the table, to which his hun- 
 gry guest did ample justice. While Don ate he 
 recounted to Sandy all his troubles and the priva- 
 tions he had undergone because of his own reck- 
 less misdeeds. 
 
 " He had just finished his repast and had pushed 
 his chair back from the table when the sound of 
 footsteps were heard on the path leading up to 
 the side door. 
 
 " ' It's Norman ! ' exclaimed Sandy below his 
 breath. 
 
 " ' Let me hide,' whispered Don, gathering up 
 his coat and hat which he had removed and thrown 
 over a chair before he sat down to supper. ' I 
 don't want to meet him ; no good would come from 
 our meeting. I will hide in the loft ! ' 
 
 " He sprang to the door, opened it, and 
 bounded lightly up the stairs; while Sandy hur- 
 riedly removed the remains of the feast from the 
 table. Scarcely was this done when the outer 
 door opened and Norman stepped into the 
 kitchen, covered with snow, which he shook off as 
 he entered. 
 
 "'Is it snawing, Misther Norman?' asked 
 Sandy, as he emerged from the pantry and 
 stepped forward to take Norman's coat. 
 
 " ' Yes, and I shouldn't wonder if we had a 
 heavy fall before morning,' replied Norman, pull- 
 ing off his great coat and handing it to Sandy. 
 
 " It was nearly ten o'clock, so Norman paused
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 473 
 
 only long enough to give his directions to lock 
 up. Then he passed into the dining-room, thence 
 through the front hall and up the stairs to his 
 study. 
 
 " Sandy proceeded to lock up as directed, then 
 went softly up the back stairs to the loft and un- 
 locked a large dresser that stood in the middle of 
 that black space, from which he took a blanket 
 and pillows and gave them to Don. Neither spoke 
 a word as Don took the bedclothes and groped his 
 way over to an old trundle-bed, which had stood 
 for years behind the dresser. Sandy crept back 
 to the kitchen, and taking up his candle went up 
 to his own room, wholly at ease with himself for 
 having given shelter to the prodigal son of his old 
 master's house. 
 
 " When he told Jean, who had retired early, 
 what he had done, she shook her head doubtfully 
 and said, 
 
 " * Don shouldna be allowed ta stay i' the loft 
 withoot Mester Norman's knowledge. Gang an' 
 tell him, Sandy ! I'm sure he wauldna have his 
 brother sleeping there if he knew it ; and when 
 there are beds enough i' the house, and ta spare.' 
 
 " But Sandy would not budge an inch, so they 
 retired for the night. 
 
 " About midnight, Sandy and Jean were awak- 
 ened by the report of a pistol, followed quickly by 
 a sound, as if a heavy body had fallen on the floor, 
 then a scuffle which lasted hardly a minute ; and 
 then the stillness of death settled over the house
 
 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 again. Hastily donning his trousers, Sandy 
 rushed downstairs to the study door. It was 
 locked. A glimmer of light shone through the 
 keyhole and he knew that some one was there. So 
 he rapped and shook the door with all his might. 
 
 " * Mesther Norman ! ' he called softly. 
 
 " The door was instantly opened by Norman, 
 who looked agitated and white. 
 
 "' What's the matter, Sandy?' he asked, his 
 voice trembling slightly. 
 
 " * I thought I heard a pistol shot,' said Sandy, 
 peering into the room with a searching gaze. 
 Everything was in its customary place with the 
 exception of one chair, which was pushed back 
 from the secretary, as if Norman had risen hastily 
 and shoved it carelessly back. 
 
 " ' A pistol shot ! ' exclaimed Norman in 
 feigned surprise. ' I think you must have been 
 dreaming, Sandy. Go back to bed, man, and if I 
 need your help to cope with any midnight 
 marauder, I will call you.' 
 
 " He had thrown the door wide open so that 
 the lamplight streamed into the hall and over 
 Sandy's half clad form. Sandy dared not dis- 
 pute his word, so he turned away and retraced 
 his steps to his own room ; but not without a feel- 
 ing that all was not right. 
 
 " Early next morning Sandy rose, dressed him- 
 self, and went downstairs to light the fires. When 
 he entered the kitchen he was surprised to see spat- 
 ters of blood on the floor. They seemed to start
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 475 
 
 from the back stairs which led to the loft, and to 
 lead across the room and out of the kitchen door. 
 
 " He opened the door leading to the loft and 
 went softly up the stairs, tracing the blood to the 
 study door, which he found locked. Stepping 
 lightly over the rafters to the clothespress, he 
 peered behind it, then stooped and pulled aside 
 the blanket. The bed was empty, and there was 
 no trace of Don to be found. Back he came over 
 the rafters, following the trail of blood down the 
 stairs to the kitchen door; he stopped only long 
 enough to put on his overcoat and cap, then he 
 opened the door and passed out into the dawn. 
 
 " Several inches of snow had fallen during the 
 night ; and the footprints of a man were plainly 
 visible, leading in the direction of the cemetery 
 gate. Drops of fresh blood ran in parallel lines, 
 staining the newly-fallen snow a deep crimson. 
 With a beating heart, Sandy followed the trail 
 silently to the cemetery gate. Here he found 
 quite a pool of blood and a small area where the 
 snow was considerably pressed down and trodden 
 over, as though something bulky had been set 
 down and dragged about. He passed through the 
 gate and kept along the path for some distance, 
 then branched to the right, still following the foot- 
 steps and the blood spots. On, on, on, he went 
 until he reached the lake front. Down the em- 
 bankment he stepped cautiously, and crept over 
 the snow-covered ice to a large hole which had 
 been cut for pickerel fishing the day before. Here
 
 476 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 the bloodstains ended. A film of thin ice had 
 formed over the water in the hole, which Sandy 
 could see had recently been broken and frozen 
 again, for the jagged edges of the old film were 
 standing out on all sides. 
 
 " Sandy hurriedly retraced his steps, sorely 
 puzzled and very much excited. He was anxious 
 to unravel the mystery. * What did it mean ? ' 
 he asked himself over and over again. Reaching 
 the kitchen door, he found Norman standing on 
 the steps, looking pale and haggard. 
 
 " * Good morning, Sandy ; where have you been 
 so early? ' he asked frigidly. 
 
 " Before answering him, Sandy opened the door 
 and stepped inside, beckoning Norman to follow ; 
 which he did in silence. With a very mysterious 
 air, Sandy closed the door and faced him. 
 
 " ' Mesther Norman, whaure is Mesther Don? ' 
 he asked abruptly. 
 
 "'How should I know? Is it my business to 
 keep track of him? ' he replied in a slightly irri- 
 tated tone. 
 
 " ' Na, Mesther Norman, only he was i' the 
 hoose last nicht ; and I heard a pistol shot ; and 
 this morning I see blood. I hae followed the trail, 
 and it ends i' the lake. What does it mean, Nor- 
 man ? ' And he looked straight into Norman's 
 face. 
 
 " Laying his hand on the old man's shoulder 
 with the privilege of a lifelong friend, Norman 
 said solemnly.
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 477 
 
 " * Sandy, my man, do you not know Don well 
 enough yet to understand his devilish tricks? 
 Can you not see the trail of the serpent in this 
 trail of blood? Do you suppose for one moment 
 that I shall attempt to follow that trail to meet 
 the hiss and sting at the other end? No, Sandy, 
 I neither love nor fear him ; I shall simply let him 
 alone to follow out the bent of his own destiny. 
 Now calm yourself, Sandy, and depend on it, Don 
 will see that no harm comes to Don Bixby. He's 
 too big a coward for that.' 
 
 " ' I suppose you are richt, Mesther Norman. 
 Don is as deep as the sea ! I only wanted to know 
 what this blood means,' answered the old man, 
 looking the young man in the face. There was a 
 troubled look in the deep gray eyes. 
 
 " * I don't know, Sandy,' answered Norman posi- 
 tively. 
 
 " ' Ye denna ken? ' repeated Sandy. 
 
 " ' No ; I don't know,' reiterated Norman. * Do 
 you doubt my word ? ' 
 
 " ' Na ! na ! but ther's something wrang ! ' 
 
 " * You say this trail ends at the lake ? ' said 
 Norman, pointing carelessly down at the blood- 
 stains on the floor. 
 
 " ' Aye, in a hole i' the lake.' 
 
 " ' That is certainly strange. What could be 
 his object?' He spoke more to himself than to 
 Sandy ; and his face assumed a serious air. ' Oh, 
 well,' he said after a moment's pause, * it is only 
 another of his mad pranks. It will come out all
 
 478 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 right, Sandy, so don't give yourself any uneasiness 
 about the matter.' He turned to go; and then 
 wheeled about suddenly and facing Sandy asked, 
 ' You knew that Don was in the house last night ? ' 
 
 " ' Yes,' he answered timidly, as though 
 ashamed of his deception. 
 
 " * He was in the house when I came home ? ' 
 
 " * Yes. 5 
 
 " Why didn't you tell me? ' 
 
 " * It war sech a night, I war afeared you 
 wouldna let him stay, an' I couldna bear the 
 thought of the puir prodigal being out i' the 
 storm wee na shelter.' His manner was penitent, 
 as if he realized that he had committed a breach 
 of confidence in secreting Don under the roof of 
 his employer. 
 
 " ' You ought to know me better than that, 
 Sandy ; however, we'll let it pass this time. But 
 don't let it occur again.' And without giving 
 Sandy a chance to reply, Norman left the room 
 and went up to his study. 
 
 " When Norman left the room, Sandy went 
 quietly to work and washed the bloodstains from 
 the kitchen floor and the stairs. Then he swept 
 the snow off the steps and obliterated all traces in 
 the yard by shovelling a path from the front gate 
 to the gate in the rear; so that when Jean came 
 down to prepare breakfast, not a sign remained to 
 rouse her suspicion that anything out of the usual 
 had happened to disturb the peace of mind of her 
 worthy husband.
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 479 
 
 " Sandy still pottered about the yard. The 
 wind, which had blown furiously all night, was 
 still high and blew the light snow about in whirl- 
 ing gusts ; and as Sandy finished his task at the 
 cemetery gate, he peered over the wall with an 
 earnest wish in his heart that the wind would keep 
 up long enough to cover the footprints and the 
 bloodstains deep under the eddying snow. But in 
 this he was doomed to disappointment ; for by 
 eight o'clock, the wind had died out entirely, and 
 the sun rose in smiling splendor above the hills. 
 
 " Norman did not go to his office that day. He 
 remained quietly in his study preparing briefs in 
 a case which was soon to come up for trial. The 
 office boy opened up the office and after getting 
 everything in readiness for business, took a book 
 and settled himself comfortably in a chair, with 
 his heels on the desk, and was soon lost in some 
 intricate question of law. 
 
 " Noon arrived and yet lawyer Bixby had not 
 put in an appearance at his office, a circumstance 
 which gave the boy no little uneasiness ; for Nor- 
 man had always been punctual and attentive to 
 his professional duties. At noon he locked up and 
 went home to lunch, returning about two o'clock 
 to repeat the long tedious waiting of the morning. 
 But Norman came not; and when he turned the 
 key in the lock at the close of the afternoon, he 
 muttered to himself, 
 
 " * I wonder what's the matter? ' He was soon 
 to learn.
 
 480 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " Up at the house the day wore on as usual. 
 Jean trolled her old Scotch songs as she went 
 about her work, little dreaming of the shadows 
 hanging over her head. She had inquired about 
 Don when she came down in the morning, and was 
 told by Sandy that he had gone away before Nor- 
 man got up, as he did not care to meet him. 
 
 " After dinner, the air was so delightfully clear 
 and crisp that Jean decided to take a sleigh ride. 
 She told Sandy to hitch up old Dobbin ; that she 
 wanted to make a few calls in town, and as she 
 needed some groceries, she could kill two birds 
 with one stone. 
 
 " It was the first good sleighing of the season, 
 and Jean's black eyes sparkled as she gathered up 
 the reins and dashed off towards town. The world 
 never looked so pure and bright as on that glori- 
 ous afternoon. The snow lay a foot deep on the 
 level, hard, crisp, and glittering under the rays of 
 the silvery sunbeams. The air was keen and in- 
 vigorating and Jean felt the warm blood mount to 
 her cheeks as old Dobbin cut through the un- 
 broken snow along the open country road. 
 
 " The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving 
 a faint blush above the tips of the distant moun- 
 tains, when Jean drew rein in front of the grocer's, 
 sprang lightly out of the sleigh, and threw a blan- 
 ket over Dobbin to protect him from the raw, 
 north blast that swept round the corner of the 
 building at that point. 
 
 " She had made several calls on old friends dur-
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 481 
 
 ing the afternoon ; had done a little Christmas 
 shopping, and was in an unusually pleasant frame 
 of mind when she reached the door of the grocer's. 
 She could see through the window in the door a 
 group of men standing about the stove in the rear. 
 But as such sights are not uncommon in a country 
 store, she made no hesitation about entering. 
 She lifted the latch and stepped in, closing the 
 door softly behind her. Most of the men were 
 standing with their backs towards her; the others 
 were so absorbed in listening to what one of their 
 number was saying, that her entrance was not no- 
 ticed, even by the store-keeper himself, who was 
 one of the group. 
 
 " ' Yes, I tell you, it was a gruesome sight when 
 Bill Noyes pulled up that bundle on the end of 
 the hook and seed a man's hand sticking out of 
 it,' were the words that greeted her ears as she 
 closed the door. Just then Dobbin gave a snort 
 outside and she paused to see what the trouble was, 
 while the conversation went on round the stove in 
 the rear. 
 
 " * Yer think it's a murder? ' asked one. 
 
 " * Murder as sure as you're born.' 
 
 " ' Any idea who it is ? ' 
 
 " ' No ; except that the coat wrapped round the 
 body is Don Bixby's, and they found a trail of 
 blood leading in the direction of the Bixby place; 
 and there's a report that Sandy Burns was seen 
 going from the lake early this morning; and there 
 are footprints right across the cemetery, leading
 
 482 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 from the Bixbys' gate in the stone wall clean down 
 to the lake and back again.' 
 
 " Jean slipped behind a pile of boxes and 
 pressed her hand over her heart to stop its beat- 
 ing; and for fear the men should look up and 
 recognize her, she took the further precaution to 
 pull down her thick brown veil over her face. 
 The men evidently did not see her; for the lamps 
 had not yet been lighted and a semi-darkness per- 
 vaded the store. 
 
 " ' That puts me in mind, I saw Don Bixby 
 down at Buck's yesterday afternoon ; and again 
 about eight o'clock last night going up the road 
 heading towards home,' said one man, as if just 
 recalling the fact. 
 
 " ' Well, can't they tell by the looks of the man 
 whether it's Don Bixby or not?' asked another, 
 squirting a stream of tobacco juice into a box of 
 sawdust. 
 
 " * No, 'cause the head is missing. Yer see 
 there ain't nothing but the trunk and one arm ; and 
 they were tied up in an old shawl of Jean Burns ; 
 and then the bundle was wrapped up in Don's 
 coat.' 
 
 " ' How do they know it is Jean's shawl? ' asked 
 another. 
 
 " ' Oh, somebody identified the shawl right off, 
 and Don's name was on the coat.' 
 
 " ' Has the police suspicion of any one? ' 
 
 " * Well, you know thar has been a bad feeling 
 between Don and Norman all their lives.' There
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 
 
 was a measure of insinuation in the answer that 
 sent a shiver through Jean. 
 
 " ' But you don't think Norman Bixby would 
 murder his brother ! ' The tone of the speaker 
 was highly resentful. 
 
 " ' I don't say that he would, or that he did ; 
 but there is another suspicious feature about the 
 affair. Norman Bixby was seen to take an early 
 train this morning, and the office boy says he has 
 not been at his office all day. The sheriff is wait- 
 ing to see if he comes in on this next train. If he 
 doesn't, then they are going out to the Bixby place 
 and arrest Sandy Burns.' 
 
 " At this moment, the door was opened and sev- 
 eral children romped into the store. Jean took ad- 
 vantage of their entrance by slipping out, as they 
 trooped in. It was nearly dark by this time, and 
 no one noticed Jean as she glided past the children. 
 The store-keeper immediately turned his attention 
 to lighting his lamps ; the men went on with their 
 discussion ; and the children began their inspection 
 of the candy case, which enabled Jean to get away 
 unobserved. 
 
 " Almost dazed by what she had heard, Jean 
 tottered down the steps to the sleigh and with 
 trembling hands pulled off old Dobbin's blanket 
 and gathered up the reins. She scrambled into 
 the sleigh and gave poor Dobbin such a lash with 
 the whip as he had not had for many a day. 
 After that Dobbin needed no further urging. He 
 dashed home like the wind, and kept Jean on the
 
 484 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 alert to prevent the sleigh from being ditched in 
 a snow drift. 
 
 " All the way home her brain was in a whirl. 
 She recalled the pistol shot of the night before and 
 the disappearance of Don in the early morning. 
 Then the thought came to her that she had not 
 seen Norman since he ate his breakfast. Dobbin 
 tore up the road at a lively pace, smarting under 
 the lash, and at last dashed in at the gate and 
 brought up with a sudden stop at the kitchen 
 door. 
 
 " She sprang from the sleigh and rushed wildly 
 into the house, tearing off her hood and veil as she 
 dashed into the kitchen. Sandy sat calmly read- 
 ing his paper. Rushing up to him and throwing 
 her arms round his neck, she burst into tears and 
 sobbed hysterically. 
 
 " ' Whatever is the matter? ' asked Sandy, try- 
 ing to soothe her. 
 
 " Her sobs and cries reached Norman in his 
 study, and he hastened downstairs to learn the 
 cause. It was some time before Jean was suf- 
 ficiently calm to tell them what she had over- 
 heard. Between her sobs and moans she told them 
 all, though in a rather disjointed way. Her story 
 was clear enough, however, to make both men turn 
 pale. When she had finished, Norman was 
 trembling so that his limbs could no longer hold 
 him, and he sank helplessly into a chair. 
 
 " Sandy looked at his wife, then at Norman, for 
 a moment ere he spoke. Slowly the color returned
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 48S 
 
 to his cheeks and mounted to his temples in an 
 angry flush. Dropping Jean's hand which he 
 had been holding and rubbing in his endeavors to 
 quiet her excited nerves he threw his arm over 
 Norman's shoulder and burst forth in vehement 
 tones, 
 
 " ' I see the devil's hoof noo ! But we shall balk 
 him yet, whatever his designs are! But ye main 
 flee, Norman, and leave this ta me ; I'll face it 
 alone ! ' 
 
 " ' No, Sandy, I shall not flee ! ' said Norman, 
 regaining his self-possession and throwing his 
 head back with a determined air. * Why should 
 I ? Such a course would be cowardly ; it would 
 be construed as guilt. No, I shall not flee ! ' 
 
 " ' But you must ! ' insisted Sandy, bringing his 
 jaws together with a tenacious snap. 
 
 " * But I don't see it in that light, Sandy,' per- 
 sisted Norman, gazing at the set face of Sandy 
 with a fearless light in his eyes. 
 
 " * But you must go ! ' insisted Sandy. 
 
 "'Why?' 
 
 " * Because Norman Bixby was seen leaving 
 town on an early train the morn ; and you will hae 
 a mighty hard job ta convince ony jury that ye 
 didna go an' carry awau the ither portions o' thon 
 body. Don't you see the cuteness o' the imp? 
 He has worn aff a suit o' your clothes es he used 
 ta do i' the old days when he wanted ta fix his 
 pranks on you? ' 
 
 " * That is self-evident, Sandy, but if I remain
 
 here I can easily prove that it was Don and not I 
 who went off this morning,' replied Norman with 
 the innocence of a layman. 
 
 " * Ye maunna be too sure o* that. Think. 
 Here is a dismembered body found wrapped in a 
 coat o' a missing man who was last seen coming i' 
 the direction o' this house. Then you are seen go- 
 ing aff early i' the morning. Ye hae na been ta 
 your office the day. Noo i' the face o' this, whau's 
 ta prove that ye didna go? Don'll na come back 
 ta prove it ; for I'm thinking there'll be some ugly 
 facts ta face in connection we thon body. And 
 it's a question i' my mind whether ony jury '11 tak 
 ither my word or Jean's. I tell you, Norman, you 
 must go and search the warld over, if need be, and 
 find that devil and bring him back. Jean will 
 stand by me; and we'll both stand by you. Now 
 go ! for God's sake go ! Remember my life is at 
 stake as weel as your own ! ' 
 
 " Norman sprang from his chair and grasped 
 Sandy's hands and pressed them heartily. His 
 face beamed with love and admiration as he ex- 
 claimed, 
 
 " * No, my dear old friend ! I will not accept 
 such a sacrifice from you ! God knows I have 
 done nothing wrong ! Neither have you ! I shall 
 stay and defend us both. I told you this morning 
 that the fang of the serpent was in that trail. 
 The sting has found me ; but I'll face it like a man 
 and abide by the results ! ' 
 
 " * But think, Norman, if you go, you may find
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 487 
 
 Don, bring him back and save us all. Go, for 
 God's sake, for Jean's sake, for Lida's sake; and 
 for the honor of your father's memory ! ' pleaded 
 Sandy. 
 
 " Just at that moment a terrific ring of the front 
 door bell startled them. Jean ran to the window, 
 and looking out, saw the sheriff's rig standing in 
 the road, and several men coming towards the side 
 door. Rushing back, she pushed Norman towards 
 the stair door and begged him to go. 
 
 " For a moment he hesitated. The ring of the 
 bell vibrated through the house again. The foot- 
 steps on the hard snow grew nearer. 
 
 " ' Go ! for God's sake go, Mesther Norman ! 
 Go and find Don and bring him back ! ' pleaded 
 Jean frantically, opening the stair door. 
 
 " He could resist no longer. 
 
 " * I will take your advice, friends, and for your 
 sakes I will seek Don and bring him back, dead or 
 alive ; and may God help us all ! ' he said hurriedly, 
 wringing their hands. Then he dashed up the 
 back stairs and entered his study ; and here he dis- 
 appeared disappeared as completely as if the 
 earth had opened and swallowed him up. 
 
 " Hardly had the stair door closed on him ere 
 the sheriff and his men burst into the kitchen and 
 placed Sandy and Jean under arrest. 
 
 " It so happened that the tutor, who had always 
 made his home here, was away spending a few days 
 in town ; so he escaped suspicion of any implica- 
 tion in the crime.
 
 488 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " Of course, Sandy told his story in a straight- 
 forward manner; but as there was nobody to sub- 
 stantiate it, it fell flat on the ears of the sheriff. 
 Search was made for the missing parts of the 
 body, but they have never been found. And al- 
 though big rewards have been offered for the ap- 
 prehension of Norman, no trace of him has ever 
 been discovered. 
 
 " Sandy was indicted, but he has not yet been 
 brought to trial. He is still in prison, waiting 
 patiently for Norman's return. Both he and Jean 
 are hopeful and confident that Norman will find 
 Don and all will be well. 
 
 " Nearly two years have passed since that 
 December night, yet no trace of either of the 
 young men has been found. The house was closed, 
 and up to your coming, no one could be induced 
 to live in it. It has the reputation of being 
 haunted ; and all sorts of stories have been circu- 
 lated about the doings round the place. Lights 
 have been seen flashing through the house ; strange 
 noises have been heard ; and a man is sometimes 
 seen pacing the library floor with a lighted candle 
 in his hand, but when anyone tries to catch him, 
 he vanishes and melts into air." 
 
 " There he is now ! " exclaimed Nellie, clutching 
 Mrs. Bent by the arm and fixing her eyes on the 
 upper story window in terror; and sure enough, 
 there stood a man, silhouetted against the white 
 curtain. In one hand he held a lighted candle 
 which he shaded with the other. He paused but
 
 JETHRO'S STORY 489 
 
 an instant before the window, and then moved 
 slowly about the room as if looking for something. 
 
 The first shock of surprise gave way to a feel- 
 ing of indignation in the mind of Mr. Bent, who, 
 springing to his feet, exclaimed, 
 
 " I'll make the acquaintance of that gentleman 
 and learn his business in my house ! " and suiting 
 the action to the word, he made a dash for the 
 front door. 
 
 Quick as a flash Jethro's fiddle was in its place 
 and the tune of "Old Dan Tucker" floated 
 weirdly out on the night air. He stood exactly 
 as he had risen from his chair when Nellie spoke. 
 His right arm swung vigorously as the bow swept 
 over the strings, and his whole body swayed in 
 unison. 
 
 Suddenly the light in the upper chamber went 
 out and the house was plunged in total darkness, 
 save for the silvery beams of the full round moon 
 which fell aslant the window-panes, setting the 
 glass a-glitter. Simultaneously with the snuffing 
 out of the candle, the fiddle ceased; and an invol- 
 untary sigh of relief came from the lips of the 
 player. 
 
 Jethro's story had been so interesting, and his 
 listeners had been so absorbed in his manner of 
 telling it, that they had not minded the closing in 
 of night. For the air was still warm and balmy, 
 and the moon, rolling upward like a huge silver 
 ball, shed a canny splendor over the place quite in 
 keeping with the tale.
 
 Meanwhile, Mr. Bent had entered the house, 
 lighted the lamp, and proceeded on his tour of in- 
 spection. Every room in the house was examined. 
 He visited first the library and the room leading 
 from it; then he went carefully over the house 
 from cellar to attic, even peering into the gloomy 
 loft over the kitchen ; but no sign of the intruder 
 was to be seen. Everything was in its usual 
 place; and Mr. Bent, puzzled and vexed, returned 
 to the half frightened group under the tree, who 
 had kept watch outside, and who assured him 
 when he made his appearance that no one had left 
 the house by either door. 
 
 The clock was striking ten when Jethro took 
 his departure. As he ambled into the path, bid- 
 ding his hosts " Good night " as he moved, Mrs. 
 Bent called after him, 
 
 " Mr. Prowty ! I am interested in the tutor, and 
 you didn't tell us what became of him." 
 
 Jethro gave a start, drew his hand across his 
 forehead, and interrogated, 
 
 "The tutor?" Then as if he was mightily 
 pleased, he went on. " Oh, yes, I remember, there 
 was a tutor. Ha, ha, ha ! Well durned if I 
 aint the tutor myself ! " 
 
 And with this he swung himself down the path, 
 through the gate, which he closed behind him with 
 a click, struck out into the moonlit road, and set 
 off in the direction of the town.
 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 THE MAN WITH THE CANDLE 
 
 Not wholly satisfied with his first inspection of 
 the premises, Mr. Bent took another walk round 
 the house after Jethro's departure. He exam- 
 ined thoroughly every inch of the grounds, shook 
 the stable doors to make sure they were fastened, 
 and even penetrated into the dark interior of the 
 grape arbor. 
 
 Mrs. Bent and Ruth, meanwhile, remained un- 
 der the tree, using all their efforts to pacify Nel- 
 lie, who was on the verge of hysterics. They 
 themselves were almost frightened out of their 
 senses ; but they scorned to give way to their fears. 
 
 At length Mr. Bent gave up the search. His 
 face wore a look of disgust as he rejoined the lit- 
 tle group under the tree. 
 
 " The whole thing is a hoax, a freak of our 
 imagination ! " he exclaimed impatiently. " I de- 
 serve a good all-round kicking for biting so read- 
 ily at Jed's delicious morsel ! But in the excite- 
 ment of the moment it slipped my mind completely 
 that Jed is a proficient in legerdemain, and de- 
 lights in practicing his arts on the unsuspecting. 
 Now he'll go and ring it all over town how he 
 
 fooled me and I'll be the butt of the office for the 
 
 491
 
 4-92 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 next six months. By Jove, what an easy mark I 
 was, to be sure ! " And here his good nature got 
 the better of him and he burst into a peal of 
 laughter, in which all joined, even to Nellie, who 
 a moment before was almost crazed with fright. 
 
 Gathering up the chairs, papers, and other 
 things which had been scattered about in confusion 
 under the excitement of the moments following the 
 discovery of the apparition, Mr. Bent led the way 
 into the house, laughing merrily as he went at 
 Jethro's bright trick. 
 
 It was nearly twelve o'clock when the family 
 separated for the night, and retired to their re- 
 spective rooms. And shortly after the house was 
 in darkness. 
 
 Ruth had been assigned to the room which had 
 formerly been the private study of Mr. Bixby, 
 and later of his son the room in which, accord- 
 ing to Jethro's story, the elder Mr. Bixby had 
 met his death at the hands of his wayward son. 
 It was the room, also, in which Jethro had placed 
 the apparition of the man with the candle. Mrs. 
 Bent had converted it into a guest chamber. 
 
 Though Ruth had laughed when she bade her 
 father good-night at the door of the chamber, 
 she felt a slight chill creep over her the instant 
 she closed the door. She cast a timid glance over 
 her shoulder as she set the lamp on the bureau. 
 But seeing nothing to alarm her, she laughed at 
 her fears. 
 
 Of a naturally sanguine and courageous dispo-
 
 THE MAN WITH THE CANDLE 493 
 
 sition, she had no aversion to sleeping alone in a 
 room where one, possibly two, tragic deaths had 
 occurred. In fact, after the first little qualm of 
 timidity had passed off, she felt perfectly at ease, 
 and rather enjoyed the novelty of the situation. 
 While brushing and braiding her long hair for 
 the night, she moved freely about the large room, 
 examining the quaint designs on wall and wood- 
 work. The murals were exquisite bits of tones 
 of sylvan scenes. Here, as in the sitting-room 
 below, the wainscotings were of oak and were mar- 
 vels of the wood carver's art. The mantel, round- 
 ing gently out above the open fire-place, was of 
 such unsurpassing beauty that she gave a little 
 exclamation of delight as she studied it more mi- 
 nutely. 
 
 When at last she was ready for bed, she tried 
 the rear door, which she knew opened into the loft 
 and also led to the kitchen stairs. The door was 
 locked and the key nowhere in sight. Having as- 
 sured herself that all was safe, she blew out the 
 light, drew aside the muslin curtains to allow the 
 moonlight to shine in, and crept into bed. 
 
 The moon, high in the west, poured a stream of 
 clear, silvery light in through the oriel window, 
 and flooded the room with a soft radiance that 
 made it almost as light as day. A gentle breeze 
 tossed the slender boughs of the apple-tree, whose 
 topmost branches rose above the level of the win- 
 dow. Though fatigued by her long journey and 
 the length of the day, for she had been up since
 
 494 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 four o'clock that morning, she could not close her 
 eyes. She lay as in a dream, with wide-open eyes, 
 gazing at the weird, flickering shadows cast by 
 the swaying branches on the moonlit walls. 
 
 Her mind was a chaos of troubled fancies. 
 There was Robert and Dr. Craig and her grand- 
 mother and Bell and Frank, all trooping before 
 her vision with kaleidoscopic rapidity of change 
 that was truly bewildering. Then her thoughts 
 reverted to the strange story of the house in which 
 she found herself an inmate, and wondered if the 
 story was a fake as well as the apparition. Pon- 
 dering thus, she became conscious of a click in 
 the lock of the door leading from the loft, just at 
 the foot of her bed. She held her breath and lay 
 rigid, her eyes intently fixed on the door. 
 
 The door opened softly, pushed by an invisible 
 hand. Then there was a pause. The faintest 
 glimmer of light came through the opening. The 
 next instant a heavily bearded man glided stealth- 
 ily into the room. In one hand he carried a 
 lighted candle, whose flickering flame he shaded 
 with the other to prevent it from being blown out 
 by the draft from the open window. He crossed 
 to the mantelpiece, where he placed the candle in 
 a small silver candlestick. Whether by accident 
 or design, he set the candlestick so that the light 
 fell full on her face. He wore large green gog- 
 gles, and during all this time he did not remove 
 them for an instant from her terror-stricken face. 
 
 He stood looking down on her for a second, as
 
 THE MAN WITH THE CANDLE 495 
 
 if hesitating; then bending over the bed he whis- 
 pered, 
 
 " Don't be alarmed, miss. I shall not harm you 
 or anyone in this house. I am here only to get 
 something that belongs to me, something I need 
 very much. After I have gotten it, I shall retire 
 as I came. I ask only one favor of you: that is, 
 if you would not add to the burdens of an al- 
 ready unhappy man, do not speak of this visit 
 to anyone. I feel I can trust you. Do not dis- 
 appoint me! " 
 
 She could not answer him ; neither could she 
 move a muscle. She could only stare at him in 
 open-eyed terror. 
 
 Straightening up to his full height, and with 
 his great, glaring goggles still holding her as if 
 in a trance, he reached up with his right hand and 
 opened a secret drawer inset in the carved wood- 
 work above the mantel. Taking therefrom a 
 small package and thrusting it into his breast 
 pocket, he attempted to push the drawer back into 
 place. But it would not yield to the pressure. 
 He changed his position slightly and grasped the 
 edge of the mantel with his left hand, where it 
 rested a second under the glimmer of the candle- 
 light. 
 
 Though she could neither speak nor move, her 
 senses were keenly alert. In the brief space of 
 time that his hand rested in the light, she caught 
 the flash of a circlet of scintillating gems on the 
 little finger of his left hand.
 
 He closed the drawer, took up the candle, and 
 with panther-like steps traversed the intervening 
 space to the door, which he had left ajar when he 
 entered. He paused on the threshold with his 
 hand on the knob and bowed to her, then backed 
 out, drew the door to noiselessly after him, and 
 disappeared. 
 
 Instantly the spell was broken. She sprang to 
 the floor quivering in every limb with curiosity. 
 Fear, discretion, caution, and prudence, all were 
 forgotten in her mad desire to see whence her 
 strange visitor went. The door was unlocked. 
 She threw it wide open and peered into a yawning 
 abyss of blackness. Not even the glimmer of the 
 candle relieved the awful darkness which stretched 
 before her vision. And the stillness of a tomb 
 reigned over it. For a second she stood motion- 
 less, then something happened, she could never tell 
 just what. The door swung to and forced her 
 over the threshold. Not knowing the peculiar con- 
 struction of the stairs at that point, she stepped 
 into space. She clutched wildly at the air when 
 she felt herself going. Luckily, she grasped the 
 wooden railing which guarded the stairs on the 
 side of the loft. This sustained her light weight 
 but a moment, yet it broke the force of her fall, 
 and perhaps saved her life. The rail was rotten 
 with age, and almost instantly gave way in her 
 hands ; and with a piercing scream she pitched 
 headlong down the stairs, carrying the greater 
 part of the railing with her.
 
 THE MAN WITH THE CANDLE 497 
 
 Her scream, together with the noise of her fall 
 and the splintering of wood, woke the household 
 and brought them in consternation and alarm to 
 her room. The moon shining in at the window 
 gave sufficient light to show the empty bed. Mrs. 
 Bent hastily lighted the lamp on the bureau, while 
 Mr. Bent made an examination of the room. He 
 looked under the bed and in the closet, but Ruth 
 was not there. Then he tried the door, and found 
 that it was not catched. He opened it and stepped 
 out on the landing, followed by his wife with the 
 light. Peering down through a cloud of dust 
 and a clutter of splintered wood, he saw a mass 
 of white muslin lying in a shapeless heap at the 
 bottom of the stairs. 
 
 Frantically he rushed down the front stairs and 
 into the kitchen, closely followed by Mrs. Bent and 
 Nellie. Opening the stair door, he drew his un- 
 conscious daughter from among the debris; and 
 gathering her in his strong arms, he carried her 
 upstairs and laid her on his own bed. Mrs. Bent 
 and Nellie now pulled themselves together and 
 began their work of resuscitation, while Mr. Bent 
 dressed hastily and started for a doctor. 
 
 It was broad daylight when Ruth opened her 
 eyes and looked into the anxious faces of those 
 about her. She seemed a little surprised to see 
 them standing around her bed. 
 
 " Have I slept too long? " she asked with a lit- 
 tle nervous laugh, glancing from one to the other, 
 as though annoyed at their presence in her room.
 
 498 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 " Why, no, dear," answered her father, patting 
 her hand. " You met with an accident last night 
 and we are somewhat anxious to see how you are 
 coming out. We are thankful, dear, to see you 
 wake up so bright and cheerful." 
 
 " An accident ? " she repeated in a bewildered 
 tone. " What kind of an accident? " 
 
 Her father explained how they had been awak- 
 ened by her scream and how they had found her 
 unconscious at the foot of the stairs; to all of 
 which she listened in silence and astonishment. 
 
 " Now," continued her father, " what I would 
 like to know is, how you got that door open, for I 
 myself locked it last night before you went into 
 the room, and had the key in my pocket. And 
 furthermore, Nellie is positive that the door was 
 bolted on the outside." 
 
 She glanced from one to the other with a puz- 
 zled look in her eyes. Her brows puckered into a 
 frown ; and she seemed to make a painful effort to 
 recall some incident of the past night ; but all to 
 no effect. Her mind was a total blank to every- 
 thing that had happened after bidding her father 
 " Good night." 
 
 This only deepened the mystery. It was 
 thought best, however, not to tax her memory too 
 much for the present; so the matter was allowed 
 to rest. But Mr. Bent's face wore a very grave 
 expression when he turned away from the bed. 
 
 To appease Nellie, whose superstition played
 
 THE MAN WITH THE CANDLE 499 
 
 havoc with her common sense, the doors of the old 
 library were locked and doubly bolted ; and in ad- 
 dition to this precaution, a heavy oaken clothes- 
 press was pushed over against the door leading 
 to the loft ; so that by the middle of the forenoon 
 a sense of security had settled over the household ; 
 and a measure of tranquillity had been restored. 
 
 Fortunately, Ruth's injuries were not as bad as 
 at first feared. A slight contusion of the head 
 and a few scratches and bruises on her hands and 
 arms were the only visible signs of her terrible ex- 
 perience. But the blank in her memory worried 
 her father, and caused Mrs. Bent no small amount 
 of uneasiness. The doctor assured them there 
 was nothing to be alarmed about, but insisted 
 that she remain in bed for that day at least. So 
 it happened that Ruth did not attend church that 
 bright Sunday morning, and in consequence missed 
 meeting an old acquaintance. 
 
 Monday morning she was up with the sun, ap- 
 parently as well as ever, save for a little soreness 
 of the bruised parts of her hands and arms. Even 
 this was forgotten ere noon under the novel ex- 
 citement of watching the preparations going on 
 for the opening of the fair on the morrow. A 
 constant procession of carts, wagons, and vehicles 
 of all sizes and descriptions, loaded with fruits, 
 flowers, vegetables, and every kind of flesh, fish, 
 and fowl conceivable, moved over the highway to 
 the grounds, to say nothing of the droves of cat-
 
 500 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 tie, flocks of sheep, and incidental bands of stroll- 
 ing freaks, all of which kept her curiosity whet- 
 ted to a keen edge the greater part of the day. 
 
 Ruth found other points of interest as well as 
 these; for she had become strangely infatuated 
 with the old house with its rich carvings, stained- 
 glass windows, and delicate murals ; and ere noon 
 she had ransacked every nook and corner of it 
 from attic to cellar. Even the loft, despite the 
 mishap, held no terrors for her imagination ; and 
 she tiptoed across the dust-covered beams of the 
 long, gloomy, open space, and examined with fe- 
 verish curiosity the trundle-bed and several pieces 
 of discarded furniture of bygone days, which lay 
 scattered about in confusion, covered with dust 
 and cobwebs, at the farther end. A large rocking- 
 horse and a pile of broken toys in one corner 
 turned her thoughts to the sad fate of the boys 
 who had once taken delight in these trinkets ; and 
 dropping on the edge of the little bed, she viewed 
 the desolation around her, while tears of sympathy 
 welled in her eyes. 
 
 But singular to relate, nothing that she saw in 
 the house, in the loft, nor yet in the dark, yawn- 
 ing, gulf-like stairway with its broken rail, had 
 power to unlock the secret chamber of memory 
 in regard to the incidents of Saturday night. 
 Though she tried hard to recall what had oc- 
 curred, tried till her head began to ache, her mind 
 refused to respond, and remained a blank through 
 it all.
 
 THE MAN WITH THE CANDLE 501 
 
 Towards evening she found herself wandering 
 aimlessly about the grounds, which were spacious, 
 and which, for all of their neglected condition, 
 showed the same artistic taste in their laying out 
 and embellishment as was shown throughout the 
 house. Rare trees and shrubs of many varieties 
 lined the paths, or broke the long grassy stretches 
 of level land. There was but one flower bed in 
 the whole enclosure. This was an immense star 
 spread in the center of the front lawn. Mrs. Bent 
 had done her best to redeem it by weeding it out 
 and planting it with salvia, which was now in full 
 bloom and made a startling bit of life and color 
 amid the general waste of its surroundings. 
 
 Along the foot of the heavy wall in the rear 
 which separated the grounds from the cemetery, 
 vines of almost every description had been planted 
 and allowed to clamber up its cold gray sides, and 
 to run rampant, stem and branch interlacing stem 
 and branch in wanton license over its top with a 
 most pleasing effect. A narrow gravelled path, 
 fringed by a border of old-fashioned June pinks 
 now sadly overrun with weeds, led from the green- 
 house to the grape arbor, and thence to the iron 
 gate that opened into the cemetery. 
 
 Led by her inclination alone, she had sauntered 
 leisurely through the greenhouse, now stripped of 
 its verdure and bloom, and emerged on the pink- 
 bordered path. She paused, struck by the beauty 
 of the scene. Involuntarily she took a deep in- 
 breath, as if the fragrance of June still lingered
 
 502 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 about the few faded blossoms whose withered faces 
 peeped pitifully up from among the dainty green. 
 Then she followed the path down and entered the 
 grape arbor. The grapes hung in great luscious 
 bunches from the vines ; but she was not to be 
 tempted. She passed on, and finding the gate 
 partly open, pushed her way through and entered 
 the city of the dead. It presented a lonely, deso- 
 late, yet an enchanting, scene. 
 
 The low green mounds, with their stiff white 
 stones of many ages, stretched away on all sides. 
 Magnificent trees rose on every hand, trees whose 
 gaudily colored leaves were sighing a last requiem, 
 telling the story in brilliant language that we too 
 must pass away. Through a vista of bright color 
 she caught a glimpse of the beautiful Winnepesau- 
 kee sparkling in the sunlight ; and almost uncon- 
 sciously she moved towards it. A few steps 
 brought her within the shadow of a white marble 
 shaft, which she instantly recognized as the me- 
 morial spoken of by Jethro on Saturday night as 
 having been erected by Mr. Bixby in honor of his 
 wife. 
 
 Yes, there was the name, " Melicent," in letters 
 of tarnished gold on the pedestal. This much of 
 his story, then, was not a fake. She drew nearer 
 to read the inscription, when she was startled to 
 see a man with bare and bowed head standing mo- 
 tionless on the other side. She gave a little gasp 
 of astonishment, which caused him to raise his
 
 THE MAN WITH THE CANDLE 503 
 
 head. Their eyes met. She tried to speak ; but 
 her tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of her 
 mouth ; and before she could collect herself, he had 
 replaced his hat, drawing it down over his eyes, 
 passed round to the rear of the shaft, and was 
 gone. 
 
 He disappeared so quickly and noiselessly that 
 she could not tell whither he went. It seemed as 
 if the earth had opened and swallowed him up ; 
 while she stood in the path gazing vacantly into 
 space. 
 
 " What does it mean ? What is Dr. Craig do- 
 ing here? When did he come, and why did he not 
 speak to me? " These were the questions that 
 flashed through her mind when she recovered from 
 her surprise. An uncanny chill crept over her and 
 she shuddered. Then turning abruptly, she fled 
 back to the house. 
 
 She entered the house by the front door and 
 reached her room unobserved. Mrs. Bent and Nel- 
 lie heard her come in, but were too busy preparing 
 supper to take any further notice of her coming. 
 She dashed up the stairs and into her room, very 
 much out of breath and very much perturbed in 
 spirit. Throwing herself into her father's easy- 
 chair, she tried to collect her thoughts and to con- 
 vert them into something like a rational train. 
 But the more she endeavored to think, to connect 
 past events with present adventures, the more she 
 became bewildered. Her mind simply would not
 
 504 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 act with any sort of coherence, and her temples 
 throbbed painfully with her efforts to bring it un- 
 der control. 
 
 The nervous strain was growing intense. She 
 felt that she was losing herself, going mad. The 
 horror of it was upon her when her father's voice, 
 calling her to supper, broke the spell that was 
 creeping over her. She bounded to her feet and 
 shivered as she glanced apprehensively about the 
 room in the gathering twilight.. Then she slowly 
 recovered herself and nibbed her eyes. Had she 
 been asleep and dreaming? Surely she had. With 
 this thought came a droll little laugh ; and trip- 
 ping gaily down the stairs she kissed her father 
 with a smile in the hall below. He put his arm 
 round her and together they went in to supper, 
 where, amid the general good cheer, she succeeded 
 in convincing herself that her visit to the cemetery 
 was merely a freak of her fevered fancy in the land 
 of dreams. 
 
 Next morning Ruth was awakened bright and 
 early by the sounds of life which began to fill the 
 air long before daylight, and which increased 
 with every moment. Vehicles of all kinds were 
 flying back and forth over the highway. The 
 tramp of many feet, the lowing of cattle, the 
 neighing of horses, the pitiful whinny of colts, and 
 the bleating of sheep, mingling with the shouts 
 and curses of men and boys, served to drive sleep 
 from the eyes and to make the early morning 
 Jiours hideous with sound.
 
 THE MAN WITH THE CANDLE 505 
 
 Ten o'clock was the hour announced for the for- 
 mal opening of the fair. But long before the hour 
 named, the grounds gave evidence of great activity 
 and of New England thrift ; for everything was in 
 full swing, that is, everything except those me- 
 chanical devices which depend on the pressing of 
 a button and the laudatory words of the governor 
 or his lieutenant to set them in motion. 
 
 Mr. Bent was fortunate in procuring seats for 
 himself and Ruth in the governor's section in the 
 grand-stand; and they were in their places when 
 the governor took his seat. The opening exer- 
 cises were brief. Scarcely ten minutes elapsed 
 from the governor's entering his box till the ma- 
 chinery started with a whirr. At the same mo- 
 ment a large American flag was flung to the 
 breeze as the band struck up " The Star-Spangled 
 Banner." Then a deafening shout rent the air, 
 prolonged again and again. Hats waved, hand- 
 kerchiefs fluttered, as the throng seemed to real- 
 ize that the all important moment had arrived 
 when fools and their money could be parted with 
 impunity. 
 
 Ruth was interested in the beautiful horses ex- 
 hibited, and in the races, which commenced almost 
 immediately on the conclusion of the preliminary 
 exercises ; and she watched them with much pleas- 
 ure until the noon hour. After dinner they did 
 not return to the stand, for her father wanted 
 her to see some of the other features of the fair; 
 so he proposed a stroll over the grounds. This
 
 506 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 suited Ruth and they began an inspection of the 
 novelties. They wandered in and out of the vari- 
 ous buildings and enclosures until about four 
 o'clock, when, in some unaccountable manner, they 
 became separated in the crowd. 
 
 At first Ruth was annoyed at finding herself 
 alone; but remembering how short a distance she 
 was from home, she adjusted herself to the situa- 
 tion with a sense of security, and very soon began 
 to enjoy the novelty of being alone in a big crowd. 
 It was a peculiar sensation, that of feeling ut- 
 terly alone among the thousands of sentient beings 
 like herself. Moving with the throng, she was 
 borne into the midway, the midway with its howl- 
 ing medley of curious sights and sounds. Every- 
 thing was new to her and she took an intense 
 interest in it all. 
 
 Finally she came to a tent whose great, flaring, 
 canvas posters flapping in the breeze attracted 
 and held her attention. It was the tent in which 
 the wild men of Borneo were on exhibition. She 
 had read something about the little men in the 
 papers ; and now an irresistible desire to see them 
 held her with mesmeric force in front of the tent. 
 Being alone, she hesitated about indulging her 
 curiosity by patronizing a side show ; and she had 
 quite a tussle with her conscience on the point of 
 the propriety of it ere she purchased her ticket 
 and went in with the crowd. 
 
 At the moment of her entrance the little men
 
 THE MAN WITH THE CANDLE 507 
 
 were standing on a high platform in the center of 
 a large circle which had been roped off to keep a 
 clear space, so that the spectators might have an 
 unobstructed view of the stage from all points. 
 The lecturer was expatiating on the wonderful 
 adventures of the little fellows ; and Ruth caught 
 the tone of the man's voice as in a dream as she 
 skirted the crowd in search of standing room 
 where she could see the tiny men to advantage. 
 At last she found a vacant space and edged her 
 way in. This brought her face to face with the 
 lecturer. She gasped and clutched the rope con- 
 vulsively and riveted her eyes on his face. A flood 
 of memories rushed through her brain. Every in- 
 cident of that midnight visit flashed vividly across 
 her vision ; for there on the platform stood her 
 visitant, bearded and goggled as then. 
 
 The lecture ended; and the little fellows per- 
 formed their stunts of boxing and wrestling. 
 Having finished their part on the stage, they 
 bounded into the sawdust below like rubber balls 
 and started on a circuit of the ring, to shake 
 hands with their patrons. Ruth saw nothing of 
 their antics. She stood as if oblivious to every- 
 thing except the presence of one man. So intently 
 did her eyes follow his movements, that she did not 
 see the approach of the little men as they glided 
 slowly round the ring; and when one of them laid 
 a cold, clammy hand on hers, she gave a little 
 scream, dropped the rope and sprang back pale
 
 508 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 and trembling. In an instant the professor was 
 bending over the rope and speaking in low, musical 
 accents. 
 
 " Don't be alarmed, miss ; they are perfectly 
 harmless. All they want is to shake hands with 
 you to show their good will. See ! " And he 
 pointed to the little men who stood by holding 
 out their hands and grinning like all possessed. 
 
 She quickly recovered her faculties and felt pro- 
 voked with herself for her lack of self-control ; for 
 she saw the sly nudges and heard the giggles and 
 coarse laughs at her expense which flew round the 
 ring with contagious rapidity. Stepping to the 
 rope again, she offered her hand, which each in 
 turn grasped and shook heartily. She even smiled 
 into their grinning faces as they passed on. Then 
 she looked searchingly into the face of the pro- 
 fessor; but the whiskers and goggles defied her 
 penetration. Yet she felt that he had recognized 
 her. She dropped her eyes suddenly, abashed at 
 her own audacity, and nearly collapsed with fear ; 
 for there on the rope rested his left hand, on the 
 little finger of which blazed the ring with the ser- 
 pent's head. 
 
 He saw her start and instantly thrust his hand 
 into his breast pocket and drew forth a large linen 
 handkerchief, among whose folds the ring was 
 adroitly hidden as he bowed courteously and 
 walked away on the trail of his charges. 
 
 The show was over, and Ruth felt herself borne 
 by the passing crowd out of the cool shadowy
 
 THE MAN WITH THE CANDLE 509 
 
 tent into the glare and bustle of the midway. 
 But the noisy, vulgar scenes had lost their charms. 
 She felt the burden of her secret oppressive. It 
 filled her with fear and forebodings. Again she 
 heard those whispered words of Saturday night, 
 half appeal, half injunction: 
 
 " I feel I can trust you ; don't disappoint me ! " 
 With these words ringing through her brain, she 
 left the grounds and wended her way homeward, 
 pondering the matter from all sides, and wonder- 
 ing what she had better do. She had reached the 
 gate and was still in a quandary, when, glancing 
 casually down the road, her eyes rested on a white 
 cottage nestling peacefully behind a hedge of ce- 
 dar a half mile below. A happy thought took 
 possession of her troubled mind and cleared the 
 shadows from her eyes. She would call on Lida 
 Gray and confide in her. Having come to this 
 conclusion, she hastened into the house to remove 
 the dust and other effects of her long day in the 
 open air.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 ANOTHER SURPRISE 
 
 Ruth found dinner waiting. Her father had 
 not yet returned ; but he came in while she was in 
 her room dressing for dinner. He met her at the 
 dining-room door when she came downstairs, curi- 
 ous to hear her version as to how it happened that 
 two such seasoned travellers as they could have 
 lost each other in so small an area. Each tried 
 to explain; and each blamed the other jokingly 
 for the mishap, all of which furnished no little 
 amusement for Mrs. Bent and Nellie during the 
 repast. She ate very sparingly, for her mind was 
 still in a ferment; and in spite of her apparent 
 gaiety a nervous chill pervaded her very soul. 
 Although it was uppermost in her mind, she said 
 not a word about her experience in the tent of 
 the wild men of Borneo. 
 
 She was glad when dinner was over and she 
 found herself at liberty once more. While Nellie 
 cleared the table and Mrs. Bent attended to other 
 household duties, Ruth stood by the window look- 
 ing vaguely out at the passing crowds, with her 
 brows gathered up in a thoughtful little frown. 
 
 She was trying to concoct a plausible excuse to get 
 510
 
 ANOTHER SURPRISE 511 
 
 off alone and was about giving up in despair when 
 she heard her father tell his wife that he was go- 
 ing to the post office for the mail. 
 
 She caught her breath. Here was her oppor- 
 tunity ; and she was quick to act. She stepped 
 into the hall, and when her father appeared a few 
 moments later, she stood in the doorway ready to 
 accompany him. He was pleased to have her go ; 
 and after calling a good-by to Mrs. Bent, the two 
 started off gaily together. 
 
 It was after six o'clock when they passed the 
 white cottage standing so sedately behind its hedge 
 of green. Ruth looked the place over critically. 
 She admired the century old elms, still proudly 
 erect, with their long, drooping branches sweeping 
 the roof. Her father noticed how she scrutinized 
 the house and its surroundings as they passed ; 
 and thinking he knew what was in her mind, for 
 he too recalled the romance connected with the 
 name of the daughter of the house, he said by way 
 of breaking the silence which suddenly fell between 
 them: 
 
 " That is the home of Lida Gray, the young 
 lady whom Jethro spoke of the other night. Pic- 
 turesque, is it not? " 
 
 " Yes, very ; but it is rather too gloomy for my 
 taste. It has all the outward appearance of the 
 inward sorrow tradition has given it. One could 
 almost fancy that nature herself had purposely 
 laid the settings, before the foundation of the 
 house, for a great heart tragedy. Yews, aspens,
 
 513 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 evergreens, and over all the elm! Could any- 
 thing be more suggestive? " 
 
 They had left the house a short distance in the 
 rear. 
 
 " There, Dad," she said, stopping abruptly and 
 changing her tone, " I am going back, if you will 
 not be afraid to go the rest of the way alone." 
 There was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. 
 
 He laughed and assured her he would not. He 
 offered no objections to her proposal to return ; 
 for he knew she must be tired, and it was still a 
 long walk to the town. So they parted. He 
 pressed on his way with a brisk, swinging gait ; 
 while she slowly retraced her steps as far as the 
 cottage. 
 
 By this time the highway was a lively scene. 
 The people were returning from the fair in laugh- 
 ing, singing, rollicking crowds that jostled each 
 other in their haste. The dust rose in clouds from 
 beneath the feet of racing horses and whirling 
 wheels, sorely trying the good nature of the pedes- 
 trians. Ruth quickened her steps to avoid the 
 confusion that seemed to increase with every mo- 
 ment. 
 
 She reached the gate and paused to still the 
 beating of her heart, as she suddenly realized the 
 delicacy of her mission. The gate swung between 
 two large granite posts, topped by an arch of 
 wrought iron of delicate workmanship. Her vi- 
 sion took in the pattern of the arch ere she pushed
 
 ANOTHER SURPRISE 513 
 
 open the gate, passed through, and mounted the 
 steps to the little front porch. She let the brass 
 knocker fall from her fingers ; and as she heard 
 the vibrations of its ring, her courage almost de- 
 serted her and she felt inclined to retreat ; but 
 ere she could put her inclinations to the test, the 
 door opened and Mrs. Gray herself stood on the 
 threshold. 
 
 " Is Miss Gray at home ? " asked Ruth timidly. 
 
 "She is. Will you come in?" answered Mrs. 
 Gray cordially. 
 
 Ruth stepped in and was ushered into a cosy 
 sitting-room where a wood fire burned brightly 
 on an open hearth. She was glad to get the 
 warmth from the glowing embers, for she had not 
 yet been able to shake off the chilly feeling which 
 had crept over her in the tent on the fair grounds. 
 She had hardly seated herself when she heard a 
 tripping step on the stairs in the hall, and the 
 next instant a young lady stood in the doorway. 
 
 " Miss Crosby ! " exclaimed Ruth in tones of as- 
 tonishment, springing to her feet. 
 
 " Why, Miss Bent ! this is a surprise ! " cried 
 Miss Crosby, for it was really she, coming for- 
 ward with extended hands. " How pleased I am 
 to see you ! Up for the fair I suppose ! How 
 nice of you to call on me ! But how did you know 
 where to find me? " rattled on the delighted young 
 lady as she pressed both of Ruth's cold hands. 
 
 " I didn't know where to find you," stammered
 
 514 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 Ruth when she could command her voice. " I 
 didn't know you were here; I called to see Lida 
 Gray. Is she not at home? " 
 
 " To be sure she is ; I am Lida Gray, Lida Gray 
 Crosby," she explained, laughing lightly at the 
 puzzled expression on Ruth's face. " I see you 
 don't understand," she went on after a moment's 
 pause, during which time Ruth stood gazing at her 
 in speechless bewilderment. " Be seated and I will 
 explain," and pushing Ruth gently back into the 
 chair from which she had risen so unceremoniously, 
 Miss Crosby drew up a chair in front of her and 
 seating herself, proceeded. " You see, my uncle, 
 Charles Crosby, is a confirmed old bachelor. He 
 is very rich. Some people call him very eccentric ; 
 but I call him a dear old toady, because he is so 
 fond of me and toadies to my every whim and 
 caprice. From the day of my birth I have been 
 known as Uncle Crosby's heir. This came as a 
 matter of course, for I was the only child in the 
 family. When I was about fifteen he insisted on 
 adopting me legally and on my taking the name of 
 Crosby in addition to my own. Everybody con- 
 cerned agreed to the proposition, for Crosby was 
 my mother's maiden name, and Crosby mine be- 
 came by due process of law. So that outside of 
 L. I am known as Lida G. Crosby; while here, 
 where I was born and brought up, I am still Lida 
 Gray to the people." 
 
 She paused and waited for Ruth to speak ; but 
 no sound issued from those white, parched lips.
 
 ANOTHER SURPRISE 515 
 
 She saw the intense suffering in Ruth's drawn face, 
 and recalled the scene of their last meeting. She 
 wondered if Ruth was thinking of it; and this 
 brought her to a sense of her duty as hostess. 
 
 " Now tell me about yourself," she said almost 
 gaily, trying to make her guest feel at home. " I 
 am dying to hear about Coleville and Uncle Gray 
 and your grandmother, and everybody else. 
 But first tell where you are stopping in town." 
 
 " With my father," answered Ruth hoarsely, 
 hardly yet able to realize the full import of what 
 she had heard. 
 
 "Your father?" questioned Miss Crosby, be- 
 traying her surprise. 
 
 " Yes," she replied, recovering herself somewhat ; 
 " my father is your next door neighbor." 
 
 " What, Mr. Bent who has taken the Bixby 
 house ! " gasped Miss Crosby, turning an ashen 
 hue. 
 
 " The same," Ruth assured her with returning 
 confidence. " I came Saturday to spend a few 
 weeks with him, and incidentally to be here for the 
 fair." 
 
 "How strange that I should never have thought 
 of connecting your name with his," she half mused, 
 looking straight into Ruth's eyes with a puzzled 
 air. 
 
 " It is not any stranger than that I should not 
 have connected the name of Lida Gray with that 
 of Miss Crosby," returned Ruth with a wan little 
 smile and a far-away look in her eyes. Then her
 
 516 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 manner suddenly changed. She snatched her 
 hands from Miss Crosby's clasp as if they had 
 been stung. Her lips curled in scorn, and her eyes 
 flashed a look of withering contempt on her as- 
 tonished hostess, as she broke forth in a strain of 
 bitter sarcasm. " How should I know, indeed, or 
 even imagine, that the brilliant Miss Crosby, whom 
 all Coleville acknowledges as the fiancee of Robert 
 Cole, and the modest Lida Gray, whom all L. re- 
 gards as the fiancee of Norman Bixby, was one 
 and the same person ! " 
 
 For a moment Miss Crosby seemed as one 
 stunned. The color went and came in her cheeks 
 and a spasm of pain flitted across her face. After 
 a brief pause, she raised her eyes to her visitor's 
 face with a vague, uncertain expression, half ques- 
 tion, half doubt, in their clear violet depths, and 
 said slowly, 
 
 " You do not mean to say that gossip has cou- 
 pled my name with Mr. Cole's in Coleville ? " 
 
 " As if you didn't know ! " sneered Ruth, her 
 whole frame quivering in protest against the du- 
 plicity of the beautiful woman before her. That 
 the report might not be true she did not stop to 
 reason. She only knew that two years ago she 
 had made her sacrifice and resigned her love to the 
 keeping of this woman. 
 
 " How ridiculous ! " exclaimed Miss Crosby a 
 little impatiently, meeting the scornful glare of 
 those burning eyes with a look of unflinching 
 haughtiness. Then as the truth suddenly dawned
 
 ANOTHER SURPRISE 517 
 
 upon her, a wave of pity swept across her beautiful 
 face. 
 
 Ruth had been studying Miss Crosby, and had 
 caught the reflection in her face. Her heart gave 
 a throb of delight. 
 
 " Then it is not true? " she asked, leaning for- 
 ward eagerly, almost greedily, to catch her answer. 
 
 " No, it is not true ! " replied Miss Crosby, in 
 quiet, decisive tones. " I cannot conceive how such 
 a rumor could have been set afloat. So far is it 
 from being true that I cannot even claim Mr. 
 Cole as a personal friend. You, of course, know 
 the intimacy which had existed between my uncle, 
 Judge Gray, and the elder Mr. Cole for years. 
 The two families, when together, seemed like one 
 unbroken circle; and it seemed perfectly natural 
 that I should be admitted to the inner shrine when- 
 ever I visited Coleville. I found the association 
 delightfully pleasant, for they were a charming 
 family. I suppose there have been changes since 
 the terrible death of the elder Mr. Cole. You 
 know I have not been there since. Bell and I cor- 
 responded for some time while I was in Europe, 
 but I have not heard from her for over a year. Of 
 course I hear occasionally from Aunt Gray ; but 
 her letters are so unsatisfactory, so far as outside 
 news goes, that I have been kept totally in the dark 
 as to the happenings in Coleville during the last 
 year. I was very fond of Bell ; she was perfectly 
 charming when she chose to be. As for Robert, 
 while I found him very nice and gentlemanly, he
 
 518 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 was too dreamy and indolent. He always struck 
 me as a great overgrown kid ; one who never dared 
 to sneeze until he had the permission of pa or ma 
 or Bell. Me engaged to Robert Cole, forsooth ! " 
 And she tossed her head disdainfully in the air. 
 
 " You have judged him wrongly. You did not 
 understand him, and therefore estimated his char- 
 acter on a false basis," interposed Ruth stiffly. 
 It was evident she was piqued at Miss Crosby's 
 words, as that astute young lady intended she 
 should be. 
 
 " Character ! " repeated Miss Crosby ironically, 
 with a little Frenchy shrug of her shapely shoul- 
 ders, following up her advantage. " I was not 
 aware he had any character. So far as I saw, he 
 was too listless even to think for himself. His con- 
 versation, when he deigned to talk at all, was a 
 mere echo either of Bell's or his mother's ideas." 
 
 " Yes," admitted Ruth, " that was the way he 
 impressed most people in those days. But all that 
 is changed. The death of his father seemed to 
 rouse him to action ; and the result has surprised 
 his most intimate friends. Even Bell and his 
 mother, who were the most skeptical as to his abili- 
 ties, were very soon forced to admit that he had 
 not only a strong character, but that he had also 
 keen business instincts which served him well in 
 his hour of trial. So well has he managed the vast 
 interests left by his father that he has already 
 gained the confidence of the shrewdest business men 
 of the state. But I did not come to talk of Mr.
 
 ANOTHER SURPRISE 519 
 
 Cole and his affairs," she said, breaking off 
 abruptly. " I came on quite a different errand ; 
 and time is passing." 
 
 " True, and you came to see Lida Gray, not 
 Miss Crosby," she said slowly, the color receding 
 from her cheeks as if she dreaded what was com- 
 ing. 
 
 But Ruth seemed in no hurry to proceed. A 
 throb of fierce joy had sent the warm blood leaping 
 wildly through her veins as her perturbed mind 
 grasped the thought that, after all, Robert Cole 
 was not even remotely interested in Miss Crosby 
 nor she in him. But the next instant it went cur- 
 dling back through those same veins and she sat 
 pale and rigid as the thought forged its way 
 through her brain of how deeply she and her 
 grandmother had wronged him. 
 
 Miss Crosby mistook her emotion as in some way 
 pertaining to herself and the matter in hand. She 
 waited patiently for Ruth to speak. But Ruth 
 appeared to be so deeply absorbed in her own 
 thoughts that Miss Crosby grew uneasy; and at 
 last, leaning eagerly forward, she almost de- 
 manded, 
 
 " What is it ? What have you heard or seen ? " 
 
 This brought Ruth back to the present with a 
 start. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Miss Crosby ; I really 
 lost myself," she said humbly. " May I shut the 
 door?" she asked abruptly; and without waiting 
 for permission, she rose, and stepping to the door,
 
 520 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 drew it to and turned the key. " I trust you will 
 pardon me, Miss Crosby," she began in faltering 
 tones when she had returned to her seat, " for my 
 seeming intrusion into your private affairs ; and 
 believe me when I say it was not idle curiosity that 
 brought me here. I have heard your sad story 
 and " 
 
 " Who has dared to meddle with my private af- 
 fairs ! " she broke in haughtily. There was also a 
 touch of resentment in her tone. " Can I never 
 come home without being reminded of the past ! " 
 
 " I would not call it by so harsh a name as * med- 
 dling,' Miss Crosby," mildly expostulated Ruth in 
 her own defense, now fully aware of the dangerous 
 ground on which she was treading. " He simply 
 related the history of the house to my father." 
 
 " He ? Who ? " Her voice was cold and steely. 
 
 " Father called him Jed or Jethro. I can't re- 
 call his surname." 
 
 " Jethro Prowty ? " she asked wistfully. 
 
 " Yes, that was the name ; and he was the queer- 
 est looking little man I ever saw," she replied with 
 a smile. 
 
 Miss Crosby appeared greatly agitated and sat 
 clasping and unclasping her hands nervously in 
 her lap. " When did you see him ? " she asked 
 when she could command her voice sufficiently to 
 speak. 
 
 " Saturday night." 
 
 "Where?" Her question was almost a de- 
 mand.
 
 ANOTHER SURPRISE 521 
 
 " Over at the house," answered Ruth slowly, 
 studying her companion's face and manner under 
 the glow of the flame which shot up now and again 
 from the logs on the hearth. She could hardly 
 believe that this nervous, agitated, ashen-faced 
 woman was the same handsome, dashing, vi- 
 vacious, self-poised girl who, only two short sum- 
 mers ago, had set all Coleville agog with specula- 
 tions. In proportion as Miss Crosby had grown 
 excited and disturbed, Ruth had become calm and 
 collected, at least outwardly. She forgot her own 
 wretchedness in her sympathy for the woman be- 
 fore her, for she saw in the quivering lips and 
 haunting eyes how intensely this sensitive being 
 was suffering. 
 
 " If you will calm yourself, Miss Crosby," she 
 said after a moment's pause, " I will tell you all I 
 know. Perhaps it will help you in some way." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I will be calm ! " she stammered ; but 
 her manner was far from assuring. 
 
 Ruth took the cold, limp hand of her hostess and 
 began her story at the point of Jethro's appear- 
 ance in front of the house, and then went on and 
 told each subsequent event in its order, and ended 
 up by saying: 
 
 " I know this man is one of the brothers ; but 
 which one? This is the question I want to settle 
 in my mind. If he visits the house again, he will 
 be trapped as sure as fate; for my father is not 
 the man to stand any ghostly nonsense. I fear he 
 is suspicious that I did not tell the truth when I
 
 522 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 said I could not remember any circumstance con- 
 nected with the opening of that rear door, or with 
 my fall down the stairs. But I did tell the truth. I 
 could recall nothing of what happened in my room 
 until my memory was roused by the voice and sight 
 of the man himself in the tent this afternoon. 
 And now that I have recalled everything distinctly, 
 I dread having my father question me again on 
 the subject. And I am positive he will do it sooner 
 or later." 
 
 " It is Norman ! But you will not betray him ; 
 for my sake, you will not ! " gasped Miss Crosby, 
 clasping Ruth's hands and throwing herself on her 
 knees at her feet. 
 
 " No, I will not betray him ; I promise you 
 this ! " Ruth hastened to assure her as she raised 
 her from the floor. " But I fear he will betray 
 himself by his foolishness in wearing that ring." 
 
 *' I have told him so ; but he persists in the 
 folly." 
 
 " Then you have seen him ? " half questioned 
 Ruth. 
 
 " Yes, many times," she replied sadly. 
 
 " Did you know he was here to-day ? " asked 
 Ruth. 
 
 " No ; and I cannot understand why he should 
 come. It is foolhardy ! " And a convulsive shud- 
 der shot through her frame. 
 
 "Are you sure this is Norman?" asked Ruth 
 after a moment's pause, looking doubtfully into 
 Miss Crosby's face.
 
 ANOTHER SURPRISE 523 
 
 " There is not the slightest doubt of its being 
 he ! " she answered quickly. " Jeth Prowty would 
 not play his old fiddle for the other." 
 
 " Then you think the playing was a signal ? " 
 
 " Most assuredly," she replied thoughtfully. 
 " Norman must have wanted something from one 
 of those secret drawers in the library and made it 
 up with Jeth to entertain the family downstairs 
 while he entered the house by a private entrance 
 and got what he wanted. Norman must have 
 slipped up on his instructions and the alarm came 
 too soon or he never would have returned at mid- 
 night." 
 
 " Then Jeth is not the simpleton he would have 
 people believe him to be? " remarked Ruth with a 
 smile. 
 
 " Not by a long way ! He has wit and to spare, 
 and has proved it on many occasions during the 
 past two years," replied Miss Crosby earnestly. 
 
 " Then I shall leave the matter in your hands. 
 I think you and Jethro can manage it between 
 you. Only you must warn Mr. Bixby not to visit 
 the house again while Mr. Bent lives there." 
 She rose. " I must go now or the folks will be 
 worried and wondering what has become of me." 
 
 Miss Crosby rose, and realizing for the first 
 time that darkness had set in, rang for lights, in- 
 sisting at the same time that she be allowed to 
 accompany Ruth home. Ruth made no objection 
 to the latter proposal, for she knew from the 
 sounds which came from without that the road
 
 524. THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 was still lined with stragglers returning from the 
 fair. 
 
 Miss Crosby called her mother, for she wished 
 Ruth to meet her before she left. Ruth was a lit- 
 tle annoyed at this delay, for she was now anx- 
 ious to reach home so that she might write to her 
 grandmother and tell her about Miss Crosby. 
 There was no help for it, though, without seem- 
 ing rude, so she made the best of it. She found 
 Mrs. Gray a charming little body, who was de- 
 lighted to meet so near a neighbor of her brother- 
 in-law, Judge Gray. Lida left them together 
 while she went up to her room for her wrap. She 
 was gone but a few moments when she returned, 
 enveloped in a long dark circular cape. She ap- 
 peared a little nervous and anxious to depart as 
 she led the way to the side door, followed by her 
 mother and Ruth. At the door, Ruth bade Mrs. 
 Gray good-night, promising to call again at an 
 early date. Then she passed out with Lida. 
 
 There was a by-path leading between the two 
 estates ; a path, every inch of which was familiar 
 ground to Lida Gray. It led through the mead- 
 ows, skirting the low stone wall that separated 
 the pasture lands, and had been worn and kept 
 hard and smooth by the constant patter of little 
 feet traveling to and fro between the two home- 
 steads away back in those mystical days of child- 
 hood which now seemed to her like a shadowy 
 dream. 
 
 Because of the many belated rollickers on the
 
 ANOTHER SURPRISE 525 
 
 highway, Lida chose to conduct her caller home 
 by this long unfrequented path; so she led her to 
 the lower end of the garden and through a small 
 wicker gate into the meadow. But Lida found 
 the way so overgrown with grasses and bushes and 
 brambles of all kinds that she had difficulty in 
 finding any trace of the old path. This, how- 
 ever, did not deter her from pushing on. Telling 
 Ruth to keep close to her, she picked her way 
 over the uneven ground until she came to the first 
 cross-wall, where she stopped short with an ex- 
 clamation of annoyance. The breach which the 
 Bixby boys had made so many years before to 
 facilitate her coming and going, and which she 
 supposed still existed, was closed. It had been 
 closed these many years. She was about to re- 
 trace her steps when Ruth caught her arm in a 
 vise-like grip. 
 
 " Look ! " whispered Ruth, pointing to the top 
 of the wall where, silhouetted against the clear 
 blue of the sky, loomed the quaint figure of Jethro 
 Prowty a-straddle of the wall, with his fiddle 
 tucked under his chin and the bow resting on the 
 strings ready for action. 
 
 As Lida raised her eyes, he drew the bow across 
 the strings and scraped out one bar of " Gentle 
 Annie." Dashing forward, she caught his dan- 
 gling foot and shook it with a will. He started 
 and threw up his arms high over his head, with his 
 fiddle in one hand and the bow in the other, as if 
 he must save his precious instrument at all haz-
 
 526 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 ards to his neck. For a second he looked as if he 
 would topple over on her; but he quickly regained 
 his equilibrium and peered down at her sideways 
 with that peculiar squint which sent his face 
 askew, and blurted out. 
 
 " Gosh, Miss Lida, you came nigh scarin' me 
 outer a year's growth. How'dj yer know I was 
 here ? I " He broke off abruptly, for at that 
 instant he caught sight of Ruth standing in the 
 shadow of the wall. The break was so short, 
 however, as to be hardly perceptible, when he took 
 up the thread of his talk apparently just where 
 he left off. " I was jest agoin' ter serenade the 
 moon. Ever see anything shine es she does ter- 
 night? It's a good sign, Miss Lida! It's a good 
 sign!" 
 
 " There is nothing to fear, Jethro," Lida as- 
 sured him. " I was leading Miss Bent the short- 
 est way home; but the wall has been built up and 
 we cannot get through, so we shall be obliged to 
 go back and round by the road." 
 
 Jethro said nothing; but the next instant, with 
 the agility of a cat, he had scrambled over the 
 wall and lighted on his feet on the ground in front 
 of her. 
 
 " This way, Miss Lida," and he ambled along in 
 the shadow of the wall a short distance to where 
 a set of bars of which she was ignorant had only 
 recently been set in the wall. He lowered the bars 
 and the three passed over into an orchard of 
 gnarled apple-trees.
 
 ANOTHER SURPRISE 527 
 
 The moon was at its full and rolling placidly on 
 its westward course, flooding the earth with a soft 
 silvery light. The sky was clear and thickly 
 studded with stars that blinked through the 
 branches of the apple-tree with weird effect. 
 Some distance ahead, Ruth could see the light in 
 the sitting-room, where she knew her father must 
 be anxiously waiting her return. 
 
 Lida had linked her arm in Ruth's as they 
 stepped over the bars. Ruth felt the hand trem- 
 ble and surmised what was coming. Neither 
 spoke as the three moved swiftly onward with 
 Jethro in the lead. They had almost reached the 
 end of the orchard where Ruth knew only a nar- 
 row strip of open meadow intervened between the 
 orchard and the Bixby grounds, when Jethro 
 stopped and gave a low pipe like that of a young 
 frog; and almost instantly the figure of a man 
 emerged from the sheltering trunk of a large tree 
 and stepped towards them. 
 
 With a low cry, almost a moan, Lida glided for- 
 ward into a pair of outstretched arms and was 
 folded in a passionate embrace. 
 
 Jethro sidled on past the lovers, as if he had 
 seen nothing, had heard nothing, and had neither 
 part nor interest in the lives and loves of these 
 two, for whom his peculiar genius had contrived 
 so many chance meetings during the past two 
 years. He halted on the verge of the open 
 meadow, keeping well within the shadows of the 
 orchard.
 
 528 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 Taking her cue from Jethro, Ruth, too, was 
 about to pass on, when the man raised his head. 
 Their eyes met. She staggered and would have 
 fallen had she not brought up against the trunk 
 of a tree. 
 
 " Dr. Craig ! " she gasped. 
 
 There was a puzzled light in the man's eyes as 
 he gazed at her, which seemed to be a mixture of 
 love, fear, pain, and sorrow. But he did not 
 speak. And she, glad to escape, stumbled on into 
 the open, and hastened across to the house with 
 memories of the past summer surging through her 
 harassed brain. As she reeled across the lawn to 
 the side door, her father came up the path from 
 the gate and met her. 
 
 " Why, Ruth, where have you been ? " he asked 
 in a testy voice. " We have been looking for you 
 everywhere and worrying about you. Your 
 grandmother has sent a telegram for you to return 
 immediately." 
 
 They had now entered the sitting-room, where 
 Mrs. Bent was waiting. Ruth turned a very white 
 face upon her father as she asked in trembling 
 tones, 
 
 " Is Grandma sick? " 
 
 " No," he replied sadly, " but Robert Cole has 
 been shot ; and he wants to see you." 
 
 She staggered and caught a chair for support; 
 but she did not faint. " What time does the next 
 train leave? " she asked in a fairly steady voice. 
 
 " Ten o'clock, and you will reach Coleville at
 
 ANOTHER SURPRISE 529 
 
 6 :30 to-morrow morning. I telegraphed that you 
 would arrive on that train," he answered. " It is 
 nearly nine now, and you will have no time to lose 
 if you want to catch that train ; so hustle along ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 RUTH'S RETURN 
 
 Ruth had passed out of the orchard and got be- 
 yond hearing ere Lida recovered from her thrill of 
 joy and raised her head. A blush of shame suf- 
 fused her cheeks as she looked round and found 
 that Ruth had gone. 
 
 "Where does that young lady come from?" 
 eagerly asked Norman Bixby as his eyes followed 
 the flitting form of Ruth across the meadow in the 
 moonlight. 
 
 " She came from Coleville, where my Uncle Gray 
 lives," she answered. " Why do you ask? " 
 
 " Did you not hear her exclamation when I 
 looked at her? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " It was * Dr. Craig ! ' Craig, you know, was 
 my grandmother's maiden name; and it was also 
 Don's middle name. I shall take the next train 
 for Coleville," he said decisively ; and placing his 
 arms about her, he led her towards the bars. 
 
 When the train drew up at the L. station at 
 ten o'clock, Mr. Bent kissed Ruth and handed her 
 in, placing her in charge of the porter. They 
 
 had reached the depot barely in time for Mr. Bent 
 530
 
 RUTH'S RETURN 531 
 
 to purchase her ticket and get her trunk checked, 
 and in the hurry of the moments at their disposal, 
 neither of them saw Jethro as he slunk by in the 
 shadows and boarded the foremost car, nor yet did 
 they see the green-goggled, long-whiskered gentle- 
 man who swung himself up on the platform of the 
 rear car as the train was pulling out of the station. 
 
 Ruth arrived in Coleville on schedule time and 
 found her grandmother at the station waiting her 
 arrival, with Joe and the carryall in the back- 
 ground. Mrs. Cole had also sent over her car- 
 riage with instructions to bring Ruth immediately 
 to Oakwood, a command which Grandma Bent 
 dared not disregard, for it argued ill for Robert's 
 present condition. 
 
 On the drive to the house Mrs. Bent told Ruth 
 about the trouble at the works which had culmi- 
 nated in the shooting of Robert and the suicide of 
 Dick Stanton. She told her of Dick's confession 
 to the shooting of Richard Cole ; and of how 
 happy they all were to have Frank vindicated be- 
 fore the world. Then she began to tell her of her 
 call on Mrs. Cole and Robert the day before. 
 This took up so much of the time that Ruth had 
 no opportunity to tell her grandmother anything 
 concerning herself, for the carriage drew up at the 
 side door of the Cole mansion before Mrs. Bent 
 had quite finished her story. 
 
 Ruth alighted and was met at the door by Mrs. 
 Cole and folded in a motherly embrace. There 
 was a mingling of tears and kisses as Ruth re-
 
 5S2 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 sponded to the cordial welcome accorded her by 
 Robert's mother. Mrs. Cole herself removed the 
 travel-stained garments and brushed the stray 
 strands of hair back from the tired-looking face, 
 and then led her up stairs to Robert's room. 
 
 Dr. St. John advanced to meet them as they 
 crossed the threshold, and taking Ruth's cold 
 hands and pressing them warmly, he waved Mrs. 
 Cole back with a warning gesture. 
 
 " Just three minutes and no more," he cautioned 
 Ruth in a whisper as he allowed her to pass. 
 Then he took Mrs. Cole by the arm, and leading 
 her from the room, headed her for the stairway. 
 
 Let us pass over the tender meeting of those 
 long tried and true lovers as too sacred for pro- 
 fane eyes or ears. Exactly at the expiration of 
 the allotted three minutes, Dr. St. John gave a 
 slight " Hem " as he entered the room, to warn 
 the lovers of his presence. Ruth knew the sig- 
 nal, and bending over she pressed one more kiss 
 on Robert's fevered brow ere she rose to leave him. 
 Realizing that his life hung by a slender thread, 
 she did her best to control her grief while at his 
 bedside; but now, almost blinded with tears, she 
 made her way to the door and passed out into the 
 hall. 
 
 Just outside the door she paused to dry her eyes 
 and to crush back the sobs that rose persistently 
 in her throat. Having dried her tears and in a 
 measure mastered her feelings, she raised her head 
 and was about to move forward when her steps
 
 RUTH'S RETURN 533 
 
 were arrested by what appeared to be a spectre 
 in her path. For there before her, at a small table 
 conveniently near the door sat Dr. Craig. On 
 the table were set out in an orderly manner, bot- 
 tles of various sizes and colors, glasses, rolls of 
 bandages, and cases of surgical instruments. He 
 was apparently engaged in selecting the necessary 
 lotions, bandages, and instruments for the dressing 
 of Robert's wounds and arranging them in order 
 on a large silver tray. He did not so much as 
 raise his eyes or appear to be conscious of her 
 presence. 
 
 She stood, bound by a strange fascination. 
 Her brain fairly reeled with the rush of memories 
 which crowded confusedly across her vision. Only 
 last night she had seen this man or his double in 
 a remote New Hampshire town. Had he followed 
 her there and back? As the question shaped it- 
 self in her mind, he raised his left hand and drew 
 it across his forehead with a gesture of weariness. 
 She caught her breath in a little painful gasp as 
 his hand swept upward and through a streak of 
 sunlight which had forced its way through the 
 crevices of the partly-closed blinds of the balcony 
 windows and had fallen aslant the table at which 
 he sat, for a trail of prismic colors followed the 
 movement of his hand. She stood as if rooted to 
 the spot. 
 
 At last he raised his head languidly. The spell 
 was broken. Like a flash the links in the chain 
 were riveted. With one stride she reached his
 
 534 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 side, and catching up his hand, which he had 
 dropped on the table after drawing it across his 
 forehead, she held it in the sunlight for an instant, 
 then flung it from her with a gesture of scorn. 
 
 " Don Bixby ! " she aspirated, almost hissed, 
 with a look of contempt. 
 
 He rose slowly to his full height and smiled sadly 
 into her face. 
 
 " And thou too, Brutus ! " he quoted signifi- 
 cantly, with a sorrowful shake of his head. 
 
 Instantly she regretted her hasty speech and 
 act. For she suddenly remembered that whatever 
 he had been, or whatever he had done before he 
 came to Coleville, his conduct here had been ex- 
 emplary ; and her better judgment told her she 
 had no right to condemn him too hastily. He 
 must have divined her thoughts, for stretching 
 out his hand into the sunlight he said in rather a 
 pensive voice: 
 
 " May I ask what you know about this ring, 
 Miss Bent? You surely have never seen it before, 
 for until this morning I have never worn it since 
 I came to Coleville." 
 
 " No, I never saw that before, but I have seen 
 the mate to it on your brother's finger," she re- 
 plied, eyeing him closely. There was a tinge of 
 scorn in her voice which, try as she would, she 
 could not conceal. 
 
 He nodded his head in acquiescence and waited 
 a moment as if for her to proceed. When she did 
 not, he asked calmly,
 
 RUTH'S RETURN 535 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " In the town of L., from which place I have 
 just returned." 
 
 He elevated his brows, but did not speak. 
 
 " Do you know," she demanded in scathing 
 tones of reproach, " that your brother stands ac- 
 cused of murdering you and throwing your body 
 into the lake; and that he has been searching the 
 world over for you so that you might clear up 
 the mystery surrounding the torso found in 
 the lake, which you evidently know something 
 about? " 
 
 "What's that? " broke in the voice of Dr. St. 
 John, who had come out to see what was keeping 
 his assistant so long in the hall and who had heard 
 every word of her stinging question. 
 
 Ruth faced the old doctor and taking his trem- 
 bling hand in hers patted it gently. She knew 
 how he loved this young reprobate and hesitated 
 to give him pain. 
 
 " Speak ! " he commanded after a short silence 
 in which only the labored breathing of all present 
 could be heard. 
 
 " I am sorry to cause you pain, Doctor," she 
 began, with evidence of distress in her voice, " but 
 the truth must come out sooner or later. This 
 man's name," and she pointed contemptuously at 
 Dr. Craig, " is not Craig at all. His name is Don 
 Bixby. He has a twin brother, Norman Bixby, 
 who was indicted nearly two years ago for the 
 supposed murder of this same Don, and who might
 
 536 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 have been hanged for all he cared. I saw his 
 brother last night." 
 
 " Who are you ? " sternly demanded the old doc- 
 tor, facing his protege with shaking limbs, as if 
 suddenly stricken with the palsy. 
 
 " John Arthur Craig Bixby, nick-named ' Don 
 Bixby ' for short," he replied in clear tones. 
 
 " Then you are not Norman? " 
 
 " No, I am Don, the renegade." And his head 
 sank to his breast. 
 
 " And you saw Norman last night? " questioned 
 the old doctor, turning to Ruth. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Alive? " As if he could not trust his ears. 
 
 " Alive." And she nodded her head in empha- 
 sis. 
 
 "And well?" 
 
 " Yes." She smiled at his very earnestness in 
 spite of herself. 
 
 "Thank God!" he ejaculated fervently; and 
 tottering forward, he threw his arms affectionately 
 around his young friend and sobbed aloud. His 
 strength had been sorely taxed during the last 
 three days, and his collapse at this time was not 
 to be wondered at in view of the present state of 
 his body and mind. 
 
 Don, for we shall henceforth call him this, was 
 visibly touched by this show of affection, and kiss- 
 ing the old doctor caressingly on the cheek, he 
 said. 
 
 " You have been my salvation, Doctor, and if I
 
 RUTH'S RETURN 537 
 
 come out of this scrape with a whole carcass, God 
 helping me, I shall never get into another! If I 
 am acquitted of this charge, you will never again 
 have any reason to be ashamed of me ! " 
 
 " Acquitted ! " shouted the doctor, raising his 
 head with a triumphant look on his face. " Why, 
 you are acquitted now, lad! You see, I have 
 been under the impression all the time that you 
 were Norman, and that Norman had murdered 
 Don. Your arrest was based on this supposition. 
 But you are Don, and you have not been mur- 
 dered ; Norman is alive and everything is coming 
 out all right ! " Then turning to Ruth, he asked, 
 " Do you know where Norman is? " 
 
 " Yes," she replied with a puzzled air, for she 
 had not yet heard of the arrest and therefore 
 failed to grasp the full meaning of the old doc- 
 tor's words. 
 
 " Can you communicate with him and get him 
 to come here at once ? " 
 
 " I think so." 
 
 " Then come right away and do so ! " He took 
 her by the arm, then turning to Don, said : " You 
 go in and attend to Robert while I go down and 
 send over for Judge Gray. He'll straighten this 
 tangle out in a trice ! And I'll settle Lunt's score 
 at the same time." The last sentence was mut- 
 tered under his breath as he led Ruth towards the 
 stairs. 
 
 Although he knew the end of his difficulties had 
 not yet been reached, Don walked into Robert's
 
 588 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 chamber with a lighter heart than he had had for 
 many a day. For several months past thoughts 
 of the future had forced themselves unpleasantly 
 on his mind; and he often found himself wonder- 
 ing what the end would be. His unconscious re- 
 mark to Ruth last Friday morning was but the 
 echo of the voice in his soul. He knew the end 
 must come sooner or later; but what would it 
 bring to him? The casual remark of Mr. Lunt 
 on Friday night had caused him considerable un- 
 easiness as to the security of his standing in the 
 village, and he had secretly cursed himself many 
 times for courting publicity in so ill-advised a 
 manner. 
 
 Having been thus placed upon his guard, he had 
 parried every question of Mr. Lunt with the con- 
 summate skill of a born diplomat. At the same 
 time he had no idea of Mr. Lunt's real object; 
 neither had he the least suspicion of the terrible 
 charge hanging over his head until Bell had in- 
 formed him. Even then he did not treat it seri- 
 ously. 
 
 In the beginning he had fallen in with the sug- 
 gestion of Dr. St. John that his name was Arthur 
 Craig for two reasons : first, because he was so 
 racked with bodily pain that he cared little what 
 he was called ; and secondly, because he did not 
 want his brother Norman to hear of his injuries, 
 which might be the case should his name become 
 known. Afterwards, during his convalescence, he 
 grew to like the sound of the name, especially so
 
 RUTH'S RETURN 539 
 
 when the title of " Dr." was attached to it. He 
 had a faint recollection that somewhere on his 
 family tree there was an Arthur Craig, M.D., in 
 whose honor he had been named. So that by drop- 
 ping the first and last part of his name, he had 
 merely discarded a portion of his old personality. 
 
 All he thought of, all he cared for, all he played 
 for, was to conceal his identity that he might be 
 free to live out his new life in his own way. He 
 had, as it were, shuffled off an old and very dis- 
 agreeable existence as a serpent sloughs his skin, 
 and had been rehabilitated with a new spirit, the 
 spirit of his kindred. His soul had been re-incar- 
 nated with new ideals of life, with its multiple re- 
 sponsibilities, its loves and joys. He felt that he 
 had come out of the shadow of evil into the sun- 
 shine of good; and he had no desire to hear, to 
 see, or to feel aught that pertained to his old self. 
 
 Though he had often wondered at the doctor's 
 thinking it necessary to blot out his identity, he 
 never questioned the why or the wherefore. The 
 old doctor seemed to have gained such a complete 
 mastery over his mind as to preclude all questions 
 relating to matters which seemed to have been 
 tabooed by common consent from the very begin- 
 ning of their acquaintance. 
 
 And now he understood it all. The doctor had 
 thought him a murderer; and for the sake of the 
 love of a dead past, a love he had never forgotten, 
 the old man was ready to override the law to save 
 the son of her whom he had loved. A smile
 
 540 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 wreathed his lips as he entered the room and ap- 
 proached Robert's bed. 
 
 Robert lay with eyes open, staring at the ceil- 
 ing. There was a look of inexpressible happiness 
 in the half-dreamy expression on his face. This 
 instantly changed to one of pain and anxiety as 
 he withdrew his gaze from the ceiling and met 
 the smiling face of Don. 
 
 " Good morning, old boy ! " said Don cheerfully, 
 approaching the bed and laying his fingers on 
 Robert's pulse. " You look a hundred per cent 
 better than you did an hour ago. Why, you are 
 as cool as a cucumber. I tell you, Dr. St. John 
 is a wonderful old fellow for getting at the root 
 of certain maladies," he went on in a bantering 
 tone while he examined the bandages and applied 
 a cooling lotion to the wounds. 
 
 Robert watched him steadily with a longing, 
 wistful look in his eyes. 
 
 " What time is it? " he asked at last. 
 
 Don drew out his watch, and glancing at it, 
 answered calmly, 
 
 " Twenty minutes past seven." 
 
 A low groan escaped his lips. He closed his 
 eyes and pressed Don's hands convulsively. 
 
 Surmising the trend of his thoughts, Don has- 
 tened to say, 
 
 " Come, cheer up, old boy ; everything is coming 
 out right side up ! To begin with, I am not the 
 man Lunt thinks I am. There has been some sort 
 of mix-up, in which I was thought to have been
 
 RUTH'S RETURN 541 
 
 murdered and my brother Norman to have been 
 the murderer. I knew nothing of this murder 
 story until yesterday, for you know my condition 
 was such for months after the accident as to pre- 
 clude newspapers, and in fact reading of any de- 
 scription. It appears that detectives have been 
 looking for my brother for nearly two years ; and 
 my brother has been hunting for me. I recited a 
 favorite piece of my brother's last Friday night, 
 and Mr. Lunt, who knew my brother at college, 
 mistook me for him and thought he was about to 
 make a big scoop. Now Miss Bent comes on the 
 scene direct from my former home and tells us 
 that she saw my brother only last night ; and she 
 and the doctor have gone down to telegraph to 
 him to come on and straighten out this tangle." 
 
 " But the body that was found in the lake? " 
 questioned Robert, eager to learn all the facts. 
 
 " Was evidently not mine or his," replied Don 
 evasively. 
 
 Robert looked at him sharply, apparently not 
 satisfied with the explanation. 
 
 " I suppose that is the ugliest part of the whole 
 affair," he resumed after a short pause. " You 
 understand, I had been no saint. I had been given 
 every advantage that my brother had been given, 
 but somehow the devil was in me and I couldn't, 
 or wouldn't, make good. I was expelled from col- 
 lege just before commencement. I know I tried 
 my father's patience to the limit ; and there are 
 many things I wish I could forget. At last I
 
 548 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 found myself out on the world penniless. I had 
 never worked and did not know how to earn an 
 honest penny. I had been a medical student, and 
 learning that one of my classmates had been ap- 
 pointed to a professorship in a distant medical 
 college, I applied to him for assistance in my ex- 
 tremity. He advised me to come on and work for 
 my diploma. I did so, and won my M.D. But I 
 could not settle down to practice. The idle-lust 
 was in my veins. Meantime, my father had died 
 and I had run through the last dollar of my patri- 
 mony. About this time I met my old friend, the 
 college professor, who made a proposition to me 
 whereby I could make a little money. I was to go 
 down to L., my native town, and meet a couple of 
 fellows by the name of Smith and Jones, who 
 would give me a parcel which I was to bring on to 
 the college. While I had my suspicion what the 
 parcel would contain, I asked no questions. 
 
 " I went on and met the men and got the pack- 
 age all right. We met in the cemetery within the 
 shadow of my old home, and I was given a por- 
 tion of the body of a young fellow who had died 
 of some peculiar disease which had baffled the med- 
 ical skill of a score of doctors. The men left me 
 with my package. They were to take one route 
 and I another back to the college. 
 
 " After they left me, a qualm of homesickness 
 overcame my discretion, and instead of following 
 the directions given, I went home. What hap- 
 pened after that comes to me rather vaguely.
 
 RUTH'S RETURN 543 
 
 Sandy let me stay all night and hid me in the loft. 
 But it was so cold I couldn't sleep. About mid- 
 night, thinking Norman had gone to bed, I made 
 my way to the library where I hoped to find in 
 one of the secret drawers a ring which had been 
 a legacy to me from my mother. I had just found 
 the ring and placed it on my finger when the door 
 opened softly and in walked Norman. We had 
 some words, and goaded by something he said, I 
 drew a revolver; but before I could raise it, he 
 grappled me, and in the scuffle the weapon went 
 off. The ball glanced downward and through the 
 calf of my leg. The revolver fell from my hand 
 and he kicked it aside. Then shaking myself loose 
 from his grasp, I backed into the loft and slunk 
 into the darkness. I heard him close and lock 
 the door after me ; and then I knew I was safe for 
 the rest of the night. 
 
 " I groped my way over to the trundle-bed and 
 sitting down tied my handkerchief about my 
 wound, which was a mere scratch; and then I 
 lay down and was soon fast asleep. When I 
 awoke dawn was breaking. I rose, and seeing 
 that my pants were stained with blood, I ex- 
 changed them for a pair of Norman's which I found 
 in the dresser. After making myself presentable 
 I went downstairs and passed out by the side 
 door. The snow lay about a foot deep. I remem- 
 ber kicking my way through it to the cemetery 
 gate where I had left my bundle the night before. 
 In the gray of the dawn, the snow lent sufficient
 
 544. THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 light for me to discern every object on the old 
 place ; and a queer feeling came over me. I could 
 see my wound was bleeding, but I could not stop 
 in the snow to bind it. 
 
 " I found the bundle, and to make it firmer, 
 wrapped it up in an old shawl which I had taken 
 from a peg on the kitchen wall as I passed out. 
 After doing this, I took up my gruesome burden 
 and started on my journey. It was just coming 
 daylight when I emerged from the cemetery on the 
 lake front. Then something came over me I 
 can not tell what but a revulsion of feelings 
 sent the cold shivers over me ; and before I knew 
 what I was about, I had crossed over the ice to a 
 pickerel hole and dashed the hateful thing into 
 the lake. 
 
 " I stopped long enough to bind up my wound 
 and then made my way to the depot, reaching 
 there in time to board an outgoing train ; and 
 landed here in the evening of the same day. You 
 know the rest of my history." 
 
 While Don was telling his story to Robert up- 
 stairs, Dr. St. John and Ruth were busy below 
 sending off messengers. While the doctor dis- 
 patched a messenger for Judge Gray to come over 
 immediately Ruth indited telegrams to Lida 
 Crosby and to her father. Having sent her mes- 
 sages, Ruth was caught in the arms of Bell and 
 led silently off. Ruth felt the quiver of Bell's 
 arms about her as they mounted the stairs and
 
 RUTH'S RETURN 545 
 
 knew that silence meant more than volumes of 
 words from her impetuous friend. 
 
 When half-way up the stairs, Bell started, 
 stopped suddenly, and caught her breath ; for the 
 old brass knocker, which had maintained a solemn 
 silence for a generation or more in the interest of 
 science, and which had long been viewed as an ob- 
 ject ornamental rather than useful, had been sud- 
 denly roused to life by no gentle hand. The 
 clang vibrated through the house with a super- 
 natural resonance that brought the butler to the 
 door in double-quick time; and close at his heels 
 followed Mr. Lunt. Still clinging to Ruth, Bell 
 peered over the balustrade and saw the butler 
 open the door and admit two strange men. As 
 they entered, Mr. Lunt stepped forward and wel- 
 comed them ; and almost at the same moment, Dr. 
 St. John drew aside the draperies of the arch lead- 
 ing into the reception room and said in those 
 short, crisp tones used habitually by him when 
 laboring under any undue excitement, 
 " This way, gentlemen ; this way ! " 
 In obedience to the command, the butler bowed 
 them forward, and the four men disappeared be- 
 hind the crimson portieres. Instinctively Bell 
 knew their errand and stood debating in her mind 
 whether it were better to go up to her room or to 
 return to the hall below, when the old doctor 
 emerged from behind the hangings and ap- 
 proached the stairs. He was about to ascend
 
 546 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 when, glancing upwards, his eyes encountered the 
 two young ladies. He paused and beckoned them 
 to come down. 
 
 Bell was only too glad to obey the summons. 
 Hastily they returned to the hall. Bell felt like 
 a culprit as she reached the foot of the stairs 
 where the old doctor stood waiting, and hardly 
 dared to look him in the face. Somehow, she felt 
 responsible for the arrest of Dr. Craig. Look at 
 it from whatever point she would, she could only 
 condemn herself; and this she did unmercifully. 
 She had passed a miserable night; and the effects 
 of it were visible in her face. But the doctor did 
 not seem to notice her. It was to Ruth he spoke. 
 
 " Miss Ruth," he said in an undertone, taking 
 her by the hand, " I know you are tired, but I 
 want you to be on hand when Judge Gray arrives. 
 Go into the sitting-room and lie down on the couch 
 till I call you." Saying which, he turned away 
 and mounted the stairs in a most leisurely man- 
 ner. 
 
 Bell felt hurt, but she steeled herself against 
 showing it, and moved towards the sitting-room 
 door with a heavy heart. It was the first time the 
 old doctor had slighted her; and she could not 
 help feeling that this was a retaliation for the ar- 
 rest of his favorite. She had not yet heard 
 Ruth's story; and she was, therefore, wholly un- 
 prepared for what was coming. 
 
 Ruth, who was still in the maze of the mystery, 
 allowed herself to be led into the sitting-room in a
 
 RUTH'S RETURN 547 
 
 sort of passive compliance to the doctor's com- 
 mands. But she did not lie down. She paced 
 the room nervously instead, while Bell began to 
 give her version of the dreadful calamity that had 
 fallen on Coleville. 
 
 " Hark ! " exclaimed Ruth, stopping short in 
 her walk and bending forward in a listening atti- 
 tude. Faintly through the open window came a 
 strain of " Gentle Annie " from the rasping 
 strings of an old fiddle. She flew to the side door 
 and flung it open, and was down the steps and 
 half-way across the lawn ere Bell had recovered 
 from her surprise. " Why, Jethro ! " she cried, 
 coming up barely in time to prevent the hostler 
 from driving the quaint little figure from the 
 grounds, " where did you come from? " 
 
 Jethro jerked his head on one side and grinned 
 as he answered, " Same place es you, miss ; cum up 
 on the same train." 
 
 " You may go back to the stable, Tom ; I'll 
 take care of Jethro," she said to the hostler, for 
 she knew by Jed's manner that he had a message 
 for her. Tom walked off with a reluctant air. 
 When he was beyond hearing, Jed said, looking 
 cautiously about to see that they were alone, 
 
 " Lida sent me down here to see that Dr. Craig 
 you spoke of last night." 
 
 " Yes, yes, Jed, I have found out that he is Don 
 Bixby. I have sent a telegram to Miss Crosby, 
 telling her to have Norman come here as soon as 
 he can," she said nervously.
 
 548 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 "Where is he?" 
 
 " He is in the house at the bedside of Robert 
 Cole. I am expecting an answer to my telegram 
 any minute now." 
 
 " Norman is here now. Can you arrange it so 
 that he can see Don? " 
 
 " Yes ; go bring him, and I will wait for you at 
 the side door," she replied in joyful tones. 
 
 " We'll be there in less'n a jiffy ! " he responded, 
 turning suddenly and ambling off in the direction 
 of the avenue. 
 
 Ruth walked slowly back to the house and was 
 met on the steps by Bell, who asked in a petulant 
 tone, 
 
 " For pity's sake, Ruth, who was that queer 
 looking creature? " 
 
 " Oh, he is the prime character in the town of 
 L.," she replied with a whimsical look in her eye. 
 " But what do you think of his traveling mate? " 
 she asked quickly as she caught sight of Jethro 
 returning in company with a long-whiskered, gog- 
 gled individual in a long, gray, linen duster. 
 " Don't get frightened, Bell ; they are both harm- 
 less, and eminently respectable. I have invited 
 them to come into the house. I want them to meet 
 Dr. Craig." 
 
 By this time the two had reached the steps ; and 
 Ruth beckoned them to follow her. She led them 
 into the sitting-room, and placing a couple of 
 chairs near the door, bade them sit there until she 
 gave them the signal.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 THE DENOUNCEMENT 
 
 Meantime Dr. St. John had reached Robert's 
 room, entering just as Don had finished his talc. 
 Don looked up and remarked with a smile, 
 
 " Doctor, your prescription has worked mira- 
 cles. After only one dose I find your patient ma- 
 terially improved. Fever gone, pulse normal, and 
 actually asking for food." 
 
 " Yes, yes," answered the doctor, rubbing his 
 hands gleefully together, " my prescriptions have 
 worked more than one miracle ! " 
 
 " They have come? " half questioned, half as- 
 serted Don, rising. 
 
 " They ? Who ? " queried the doctor, pucker- 
 ing up his brows and pretending not to under- 
 stand Don's meaning. 
 
 " Why, the officers, of course," replied Don 
 without the least hesitation. " We heard the 
 knocking and concluded it must be they. As 
 Robert has been the confidant of Mr. Lunt since 
 last Saturday morning, there is no necessity for 
 further secrecy. I want everything open and 
 above board now." 
 
 Seeing how matters stood, the doctor readily 
 549
 
 550 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 admitted that their conclusions were correct, and 
 then went on and explained what had been done. 
 He touched a bell button, and presently the night 
 nurse responded to the call. Leaving her in 
 charge of the patient, the two doctors went down- 
 stairs to the reception-room to meet the sheriff 
 and Mr. Lunt. In the lower hall they met Judge 
 Gray, who had just arrived in answer to the doc- 
 tor's summons. The old doctor paused long 
 enough to welcome the judge and to beg him to 
 wait a moment. Then he passed into the presence 
 of the officers and delivered up the prisoner. 
 
 " Now," he said in a tone of the utmost suavity, 
 " I have done my duty ; but before you lay your 
 hands on this young man I must beg your indul- 
 gence for time to consult counsel." 
 
 " Certainly, Doctor," assented the sheriff ; " the 
 young man shall have all the safeguards the law 
 allows. I can assure you we have no desire to 
 make this affair any more painful to you than is 
 absolutely necessary. How long do you want 
 half an hour, say? " His manner and tone were 
 respectful in the extreme. 
 
 " That will more than suffice," he replied tersely, 
 and immediately left the room. 
 
 Twenty minutes later he returned, leaning on the 
 arm of Judge Gray. Behind him walked sedately 
 Mrs. Cole and Mrs. Bent, Ruth and Bell, while 
 Frank sauntered in somewhat in the rear. As if 
 from sheer force of habit, the sheriff rose to his 
 feet when the judge made his appearance and in
 
 a deep, resonant voice cried, " Court ! " The other 
 three men responded with alacrity and rose to 
 their feet and remained standing till the judge had 
 solemnly taken his seat, when the sheriff, not yet 
 awake to the absurdity of the situation, cried in 
 his official tone, " Court open ; be seated ! " 
 Whereupon all dropped into their seats with all 
 the respect and dignity due an open court. 
 
 Although Judge Gray had been summoned as 
 counsel rather than judge, he accepted the honor 
 thrust upon him with a stern and solemn mien, as 
 one born to the robe ; and turning to the old doc- 
 tor, he said in a grave tone, 
 
 " Dr. St. John, you may serve as counsel for 
 the accused during my court." As no question of 
 jurisdiction was raised, the judge proceeded to call 
 for the charge. 
 
 Clearing his throat with a gentle cough, the 
 sheriff unfolded a formidable looking document 
 and began to read in a loud, pompous voice, 
 mumbling his words in a manner peculiar to many 
 court officials. He got through the opening for- 
 mula and as far as pronouncing the name of the 
 accused, 
 
 " Norman Bixby, alias Arthur Craig " 
 
 " Just one moment," interposed the judge, 
 " what name did you say ? " 
 
 " Norman Bixby, alias Arthur Craig," repeated 
 the sheriff. 
 
 " Your Honor," said Dr. St. John, rising and 
 addressing the judge, " would it not facilitate mat-
 
 552 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 ters to allow the young man to speak for him- 
 self? " 
 
 " Perhaps it would," replied the judge, nodding 
 his assent. 
 
 Don rose to his feet and looked helplessly at the 
 doctor, seemingly at a loss how to begin. 
 
 " What is your name? " questioned the old doc- 
 tor, taking in Don's embarrassment at a glance. 
 
 " John Arthur Craig Bixby," he answered 
 promptly, " though the name was abbreviated to 
 Don Bixby by my family, for convenience, I sup- 
 pose." 
 
 " You have a brother? " 
 
 " I have ; a twin brother." 
 
 "His name?" 
 
 " Norman Bixby." 
 
 " Is he living? " 
 
 " For anything I know, he is living. In fact, I 
 understand he is on his way here and will probably 
 arrive this evening." 
 
 The sheriff looked non-plussed, first at Mr. 
 Lunt, then at the other officer, who had been 
 quietly eying Don ever since he came into the 
 room. The latter rose slowly, and facing Don, 
 said in rather dubious tones, 
 
 " You say you are Don Bixby ; do you recog- 
 nize me? " 
 
 " I do," answered Don with a shadow of disgust 
 on his face and in his voice. " You are Ted 
 Hunter who bit me on the arm when you couldn't 
 get the best of me in a wrestling match on the
 
 THE DENOUNCEMENT 553 
 
 green in L. Look, there is the mark of your 
 teeth ! " And rolling up his sleeve, he exhibited 
 an ugly scar on his left fore-arm. 
 
 Mr. Hunter turned a bright crimson as he recog- 
 nized the scar, red, ragged, and ugly, on the white 
 arm of the accused. For a moment there was a 
 dead silence. Then turning to the judge, Mr. 
 Hunter said in rather a sheepish tone, 
 
 " He is Don Bixby all right, your Honor." 
 
 Don glanced at Mr. Lunt and really pitied the 
 man, for he sat in dumb amazement, looking from 
 one to the other, as if trying to get a mental grasp 
 on the shift of personalities. 
 
 " That settles it ! " exclaimed Dr. St. John with 
 an angry snort, forgetting for the moment the 
 dignity of the court. " It's a case of false arrest 
 for which somebody must answer ! " And he 
 rolled a pair of blazing eyes menacingly in the 
 direction of Mr. Lunt. 
 
 " Not so fast ! " interposed Mr. Lunt, recover- 
 ing his presence of mind with a jerk. " If he is 
 Don Bixby, as he claims to be, where is his 
 brother? " 
 
 " He has already explained that his brother is 
 on his way here," answered the judge sternly. 
 
 " Then perhaps he can explain whose body it 
 was that was found tied up in his coat in the 
 lake? " sneeringly queried Mr. Lunt. 
 
 " I can, Your Honor," replied Don with the ut- 
 most frankness. " It was a portion of the body 
 of Carl White, who had died of a baffling disease,
 
 554 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 and whose body had been deposited in the tomb 
 that day. Probably you recall his death ? " he 
 questioned, addressing Mr. Hunter. 
 
 " I do," admitted Mr. Hunter. " I was one of 
 the bearers at his funeral." 
 
 " You remember the physicians were all at sea 
 over his malady? " interrogated Don. 
 
 Mr. Hunter nodded his head by way of admis- 
 sion. 
 
 " Well, a certain doctor wanted the body for 
 scientific purposes ; and as I understood at the 
 time, he had the consent of White's uncle to get 
 the body from the tomb." Then he went on to 
 explain his part in the transaction, and how he 
 came to drop his bundle in the lake. He repeated 
 the story practically as he had told it to Robert 
 only a short time before. When he finished, a 
 painful silence pervaded the room for several min- 
 utes, a silence which no one seemed inclined to 
 break. 
 
 At length the judge spoke in tones that seemed 
 to thrill with emotion : 
 
 " I believe the prisoner's story ; but in order to 
 satisfy Mr. Lunt and his brother officers, I will 
 ask Miss Bent to tell us what she knows about this 
 young man's brother." 
 
 Ruth rose, trembling in every limb. Seeing her 
 agitation, the judge hastened to her relief. 
 
 " Miss Bent, I understand that you saw Nor- 
 man Bixby last night? "
 
 THE DENOUNCEMENT 555 
 
 " I did," answered Ruth in rather unsteady 
 tones. 
 
 " Will you kindly tell us where and under what 
 circumstances you saw him?" asked the judge, 
 leaning eagerly forward, as if to catch her every 
 word. 
 
 " I think, your Honor, I will let Mr. Bixby 
 answer for me." And drawing aside the curtain, 
 against which she had been sitting, Norman Bixby, 
 divested of goggles, wig, and whiskers, stepped into 
 the midst of the astonished assemblage, the living 
 counterpart of Dr. Craig. 
 
 Don sprang to his feet and stood before his 
 brother in the old antagonistic poise, while Nor- 
 man maintained a calm, dignified composure. A 
 moment of intense silence; then Don cowered be- 
 fore the cold, accusing eye of his outraged brother. 
 
 " The prisoner is discharged and the court 
 stands adjourned," broke in Judge Gray in quav- 
 ering tones, rising and stepping in between the two 
 brothers. " Come, Norman, don't be too severe 
 now that this disagreeable affair has terminated so 
 propitiously. I am Lida's uncle, Judge Gray; 
 and I am most happy to welcome you to Coleville. 
 You must come home with me and meet Mrs. 
 Gray." And he held out his hand to Norman. 
 
 Norman grasped the hand, but his tongue re- 
 fused to utter the words he wished to speak. Just 
 at that moment, the lively strains of " Old Dan 
 Tucker " floated into the room and brought the
 
 r>r>6 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 attention of all eyes to bear on the quaint figure 
 of Jethro Prowty, standing under the arch, and 
 playing as if possessed by some spirit of music 
 incarnate. 
 
 This seemed to relieve the tension, for every- 
 body laughed, and by the time Norman had silenced 
 the old fiddle the officious Mr. Lunt and his friends 
 had disappeared, leaving the judge and the old 
 doctor to make peace between the brothers and 
 explanations to all interested in their strange 
 story. 
 
 " Mrs. Cole,*' said Judge Gray after introduc- 
 ing Norman to her, " I think an explanation is due 
 you. My niece, Lida Crosby, of whom you were 
 so fond at one time, is the fiancee of this young 
 gentleman. She was preparing for her wedding at 
 the time he was accused of killing his brother, and 
 the accusation almost cost her her life. She had 
 always maintained his innocence and would listen 
 to no one who doubted. If any woman ever was 
 loyal to a man in adversity, that woman is Lida ; 
 and for her sake I thank God the quest is over." 
 Then turning to Don, he continued : " And to 
 think that you were living right under my eyes all 
 the time; dining at my table; riding in my car- 
 riage ; and hobnobbing with me generally, and I in 
 blissful ignorance of your identity ! Why, I I 
 I'd like to sentence you to ten years at hard 
 labor for your pulling the wool over my eyes so 
 smoothly ! "
 
 THE DENOUNCEMENT 557 
 
 " And I deserve it, Judge ! " answered Don 
 gravely. 
 
 It was a delicate piece of diplomacy to bring 
 order out of such chaos ; but Judge Gray and the 
 old doctor worked together admirably ; and in less 
 than an hour the shadows had lifted from the faces 
 of all. This end having been accomplished, Judge 
 Gray insisted on Norman's going home with him. 
 He must meet Mrs. Gray, and remain a few days 
 at least. Norman was more willing to accede to 
 the judge's wishes when a telegram came announc- 
 ing that Lida would arrive in Coleville on the even- 
 ing train. When Norman departed with Judge 
 Gray, Don walked out to the carriage with him ; 
 and the brothers clasped hands ere they separated. 
 
 Late in the afternoon, for the first time since 
 the shooting, Mark Gibson was allowed a short in- 
 terview with Robert. He had not been idle during 
 the last two days ; and he had much to tell of the 
 way things had gone. Robert, as we know, had 
 already heard of Dick's death and of his confes- 
 sion ; but he had not heard of Nell's death. 
 
 When Mark told him of it, and of her sacrifice, 
 and delivered her dying message to him, Robert 
 was deeply affected. 
 
 " It shall be as she wished ; the chapter is closed ; 
 and may God pity them both ! " he said softly. 
 Then he thanked Mark for his loyalty to her and 
 to his father's memory. 
 
 " Everything is quiet about the town," Mark
 
 558 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 informed him. " The tragedy had a sobering ef- 
 fect on the men. They're as humble as pie now, 
 and profuse in their expressions of regret at what 
 had occurred. They can see the folly of their way 
 at last, and are very anxious to return to work." 
 
 " Then open the gates to-morrow morning and 
 start them in ; and I'll be down in the course of a 
 week or ten days," instructed Robert, well pleased 
 at the prospect of an early settlement. 
 
 Mark obeyed orders ; and next morning the 
 works were in full blast on schedule time; and by 
 Saturday night, the village had taken on a look 
 of its wonted prosperity. 
 
 Robert was as good as his word. He recovered 
 rapidly under the combined sunshine of Ruth's 
 presence and the skill and care of his two physician 
 friends. At the end of ten days he made his ap- 
 pearance at the office, as he told Mark he should. 
 In a quiet and respectful manner the men ex- 
 pressed their pleasure at seeing him once more. 
 Neither side mentioned the strike, for each had 
 much to regret; and each sincerely wished to for- 
 get some features of the unequal struggle. One 
 thing was certain, that while there were regrets, 
 there was no rankling bitterness left in its trail. 
 The death of Dick having removed the main point 
 of difference between employer and employee, the 
 remains of the imaginary mountain of ills con- 
 jured by Dick's sick brain dwindled to a mere bag- 
 o'-tricks under the skillful manipulations of Mark 
 Gibson. So that when Robert was able to resume
 
 THE DENOUNCEMENT 559 
 
 his duties at the office, nothing remained but to let 
 " by-gones be by-gones " and to take a new hold 
 of life in the joys and contentments of the present 
 and keep an optimistic outlook on the future. 
 And this all hands seemed ready and willing to do. 
 
 The last week in October was a week of rejoicing 
 in Coleville, and brought many changes to our lit- 
 tle group of friends, whose hearts had been tried 
 by pain and sorrow and had stood the test. Oak- 
 wood was the scene of a most brilliant assemblage, 
 gathered to witness the novel sight of a triple wed- 
 ding, at which the Rev. Frank Bent was to per- 
 form his first public function as a minister of the 
 gospel, in which he was to be assisted by the Rev. 
 Mr. Hall as resident pastor. 
 
 The day of the wedding was ushered in with a 
 glorious burst of sunshine which added greatly to 
 the good spirits of all. 
 
 Dr. St. John bustled about, serene and happy, 
 and with as much officiousness as if he himself were 
 to be one of the fortunate bridegrooms. He 
 patted Bell on the cheek as she stood before him in 
 her bridal array, and assured her she would never 
 regret the step she was taking. And indeed she 
 had no fears in her heart when she placed her hand 
 in Don Bixby's and gave her word to love, honor 
 and obey. She had perfect faith in his reincarna- 
 tion and in her own powers to hold him steadfast 
 to his new ideals. The old doctor, feeling the 
 weight of his three score years and ten, had ar-
 
 560 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 ranged to turn over his lucrative practice to Don 
 just as soon as the happy couple returned from 
 their wedding trip. 
 
 Jethro Prowty was speechless with happiness 
 when, in a spick-span new suit of broadcloth, he 
 stood up beside Norman in the capacity of best 
 man. But the height of his earthly bliss was at- 
 tained when he was allowed to play a selection on 
 his old cracked fiddle for the entertainment of the 
 guests while the orchestra were at breakfast. 
 
 The wedding feast was over at last; and Nor- 
 man and Lida, with Don and Bell, had taken their 
 departure amid the proverbial shower of rose 
 leaves, confetti and rice. They were to travel to- 
 gether as far as Boston, where they were to sep- 
 arate; whence Don and Bell were to sail for 
 Europe, while Norman and Lida were to take the 
 train for L., where they had planned to spend 
 their honeymoon quietly at the old homestead. 
 
 Mr. Bent had vacated the place ; and Sandy and 
 Jean had been installed in their former strongholds 
 and now reigned as of old. Things were begin- 
 ning to look pretty much as they used to look 
 about the place. Jean went about trolling her 
 favorite Scotch ditties, happy in the consumma- 
 tion of her dearest wish. She could hardly con- 
 tain herself while waiting the arrival of " Mesther 
 Norman and his bonnie bride." All the suffering 
 endured by her and her devoted husband while Nor- 
 man was on his quest was forgotten in the antici-
 
 THE DENOUNCEMENT 561 
 
 pation of the joys in the coming home of her 
 " bairns." 
 
 The last guest had departed from Oakwood and 
 the stillness of a new life had settled over the 
 mansion. Robert and Ruth stood alone on the 
 front veranda, where they had just bidden 
 Grandma Bent and Frank good-by, and were now 
 watching the carriage sweep round the curves 
 along the winding avenue. They were to remain 
 at home, for Robert's wounds were not yet entirely 
 healed, and the doctor had set his foot down 
 against any undue exertion, such as a wedding 
 journey would entail. Ruth still wore her bridal 
 robes, in which Robert compared her to a fleecy 
 cloud in a summer sky. 
 
 As the carriage disappeared round the last 
 curve and plunged into the twilight shadows of the 
 great oaks, Robert called Ruth's attention to the 
 sun in its crimson splendor poised just above the 
 ridge of the western hills. It seemed to have 
 paused for a moment in its downward course, as 
 if to pronounce a parting blessing on the village 
 below. The valley was aflame with crimson light. 
 It flooded the village streets and reflected on every 
 pane of glass in factory and dwelling, and shed a 
 soft radiance over the people themselves, who could 
 be seen in their gala attire flocking to the library 
 hall to participate in the grand ball which was to 
 close the wedding festivities of the day. 
 
 " It is good omen, dear," said Robert softly, as
 
 562 THE SINS OF THE FATHERS 
 
 his arm stole about her waist and drew her gently 
 to him. " The shadows have lifted, and light and 
 love and joy are shining over all!" He kissed 
 her tenderly. Turning his eyes once more to the 
 village, he exclaimed, " Look, dear, there is Mark, 
 actually going to the ball ! You must dance with 
 him to-night, dear ! " 
 
 " Why, Robert, Mark can't dance ! " laughed 
 Ruth, watching the ungainly figure in its rapid 
 movements across the square. 
 
 " Can't dance ! " cried Robert in a burst of boy- 
 ish enthusiasm, as his eyes followed the swinging 
 strides of his old friend, with which Mrs. Gibson 
 was doing her best to keep up. " If there is any- 
 thing under the sun that Mark Gibson can't do, I 
 want to know it ! But here comes the carriage and 
 we must be off." 
 
 At that moment Mrs. Cole appeared in the door- 
 way, and behind her came the maid with Ruth's 
 cloak. Robert took the wrap from the maid and 
 folded it about Ruth. 
 
 Ten minutes later Robert Cole and his bride 
 were holding a reception in the hall of the village 
 library amid a scene of beauty never before seen in 
 Coleville. 
 
 Mark Gibson was there, flitting about among 
 the people and looking happier than Robert had 
 ever before seen him. He seemed to have grown 
 twenty years younger in appearance; and when 
 Robert remarked this fact to him, Mark simply
 
 THE DENOUNCEMENT 563 
 
 said in his quiet, unobtrusive, but always-to-the- 
 point way : 
 
 " I have thrown off a twenty years' burden, and 
 I feel like a new man. It isn't work that saps the 
 energy out of the body, lad ; it's worry."
 
 DATE DUE
 
 PS2044 H95S5 IP 14 
 Hyde, Mary Ellen Burke, 
 
 J 854- 
 Th e sins of the fathers. 
 
 
 3 1210002306783