सट्टा किंग दिसावर खबर

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"Canin'? Me? Whatfer?",

Here farms, hemmed in by rude rail-fences, looked up from valley and hillside. Occasionally a house of greater pretensions than its fellows, and built of unplaned lumber, gleamed in the morning sunlight in gay contrast to the dun-colored log ones. But the eternal forest, the primitive offering of earth's first substance, obtruded even here, and the rider's face set in a frown as he surveyed the vista before him.,

"You have a neighbor named Stanhope, my predecessor, I understand," he said slowly.,

For answer she threw herself down upon the deck. She fell as though in a swoon, and lay motionless with her face buried once more in her arm that now reposed upon the carpeted planks. Her tears or sobs assured him that she had not fainted, and understanding that his wisest policy would be to leave her to her thoughts, he cast an adoring look upon the prostrate figure and quitted the cabin, slamming the door noisily after him that she might know he was gone, but silently turning the key outside, for it was not then his intention that she should go on deck and meet the crew until the statement he had made to Mr Eagle had passed in growling whispers through the men.

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Billy climbed the rail fence and crossed the basswood swale to the highland. He approached the beech grove cautiously and peered about him. Seated on a log at the lower end of a grassy glade was a boy about his own age, a boy with round, bullet head poised on a thick neck set between square shoulders.,

"Nothin' else," returned Harry. "Nuthin' else that mattered, Bye. A square box there was that I had no time to open a'tall; but whisky! Oh, Billy Bye—there ut was afore me, enough av ut to coax all the blood-suckin' bats and snakes in hades up to mock the consumer av ut.",

"It's the chaff and small wheat the fannin' mill blows out from the good grain. Pa lets me have it fer my wild birds. I've got some partridge up on the hickory knoll, too. They're shyer than the quail, but I've got 'em so tame I kin call 'em and make 'em come to me.",

"One morning something over a year ago a queer little man came to my office. He told me his name, Scroggie, but refused to give me any address. He said he wished to make his will and insisted that I draw it up. It was a simple will, as I remember it, merely stating that 'I something-or-other, Scroggie, hereby bequeath all my belongings, including land and money, to Frank Stanhope.' I made it out exactly as he worded it, had it sealed and witnessed and handed it to him. But the old fellow refused to take it. I asked him why, and he said: 'You keep it safe until I send for it. I'm willin' to pay for your trouble.'