HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Times, 1916-01-06, Page 74
jam 217 6th, 1916
THE WINGHAIVI TIMES
KeWeiWsewe
Freckles.
13Y
Gene
Stratton -
Porter
0.-----z----„..-------
Copyright 1904, by
Doubleday, Page & Co.
w_go, laWiriennme isissewearestraj
fie giving' iTte- baelraid: firotnise. Let
me go?"
"Why, Freckles!" faltered the angel.
"You don't know what you are asking.
'Let you go!' I cannot. I love you
better than any one, Freckles, I think
you are the ye ey finest person I ever
kpew, I have our lives all plarmed. I
want you to go to be educated and
learn all there is to know about sing-
ing just as soon as you are well
encergh. By the time you have com-
pletdif your education I shall have
finished college, and then I want," she
choked on It a second. "I want you to
be my real knight, Freckles, and come
to me and tell me that you—like me—a
little. I have been counting on you
for my sweetheart from the very first,
Freckles. 1 can't give you up uniess
you don't like me, But you do like
me—just a little—don't you, Freckles?"
Freckles lay whiter than the cover-
let, his eyes on the ceiling and his
breath wheezing. The angel awaited
SYNOPSIS.
Freckles, a homeless boy, Is hired by
Boas McLean to guard the expensive tim-
ber in the Limberlost from tinaber thieves.
Freckles does Ms work faithfully, makes
friends with the birds and yesxns to know
more about nature. He lives with Mr.
and Mrs. Duncan.
, —fie resolves to get books and educate
himself. He becomes interested in a huge
pair of vultures and calls his bird friendia
his "chickens."
Some St the trees he is guarding are
'worth 11,000 each. Freckles' books arrive.
He receives a call from Wessner.,
Wessner aitempits to belbe Freckles to
betray his trust, and Freckles whips him.
McLean overhears them and witnesses the
fight.
Freckles' honesty saves a precious tree,
Ile finds the nest of the vultures and li
visited bv a beautiful young girl.
She calls Freckles McLean's-Oh:Freckles
calls her "the angel" and helps the Bird
Woman in taking photographs. McLean
promises to adopt Freckles.
FR -ales ar-fa the -angel become verY
friendly. Assisted by the Bird Woman,
they drive Wessner and Black Jack, tim-
ber thieves, from the Limberlost.
McLean fears more trouble, but Freckle'
insists upon being the sole guard of the
timber. Freckles calla upon the angers
father.
1E0 "Bled Woman ail-Vibeangiragaitt
Tisk Freckles, and Freckles falls In love
With the angel. The angel kisses him.
Freckles is bound and gagged by Black
Jack' gang, and the timber thieves start
telling a very valuable tree.
Wessner is to kill Freckles after the
tree is stolen. The angel makes a daring
effort to save Freckles and the tree.
MoLean's men'notified by the angel,
rush to save Freckles Ali the timber
thieves except Black Jack are captured.
"Is he dying?" demanded McLean.
"He is," said the surgeon. "Ile will
mot live this day out, unless some
strong reaction sets in at once. He Is
iso low that, preferring death to Ilre,
mature cannot overcome his Inertia.
If he Is to live, he roust be made to
.desire life."
"Then be must die," said McLean.
"Does that- mean that you know
-what he desires and cannot or will
not, supply it?"
"It means," said McLean desperately,
"that I know what lie wants, but it is
As far removed from my power to give
It to him as it would be to give him a
,star. The thing for which he will die
lie can never have."
"Then you mnst prepare for the end
very shortly," said the surgeon, turn-
ing abruptly away.
McLean caught his arm rotighly.
"Look here!" he cried in desperation.
''You say that as if I could do some-
thing if I would. I tell you the boy
is dear to we past expression. I would
.do anything—spend any sum Von have
noticed and .repeatedly CO111111elltea On
the young girl with me. It is that
child that fie winds! Ile worships her
to adoration, nod knowing he can never
be anything to ber, be prefers death
to life. In (lod's natne, what can I
,do about it?"
"Barring that missing hand, I never
handled a tiner man.' said the surgeon,
"and she seems seelSeeize cletpted to
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him,why cannot 'fib iiirce her e -
"Why?" echoed McLean. "Why?
Well, for a good many reasons. 1 told
you he veas my son. You probably knew
that he was not. A little over a year
ago I had never seen him. He joined
one of my lumber gangs from the road.
He is a stray, left at one of your homes
for tbe friendless here in Chicago.
When he grew up the superintendent
bound him out to a brutal man. He
ran away and landed in one of my
lumber camps. He has no name or
knowledge of legal birth. The angei—
we have talked of her. She has ances-
tors reaching back to Plymouth Rock
and across the sea for generations
back of that. She is an idolized, petted
only child, and there is great wealth.
He sees it more plainly than any one
else could. There Is nothing for the
boy but death if it is the angel that is
required to save him."
The angel stood between them.
"Well, I guess not!" she cried. "If
Freckles wants me all he has to do Is
to say so, and he can have me!"
"That he will never say," said Mc-
Lean at last, "and you don't under-
stand. angel. I don't know how you
came here. I wouldn't have bad you
bear that for the world, but since you
have, dear, you Must be told that it
isn't your friendship or kindness
Freckles wants; It is your love."
"Well, I do love him." she said sim-
McLean's arms dropped helplessly.
"You don't understand," he reiterat-
ed patiently. "It isn't the love of a
friend, or a comrade, or a sister, that
Freckles wants from you; it is the love
of a sweetheart. And if to save the
life he has offered for you you are
thinking of being generous and
pulsive enough to sacrifice your future
—in the absence of your father it will
become my plain duty, as the pro-
tector in whose bands he has placed
you, to prevent such rashness. The
very words you speak and the manner
In which you say them proves that you
are a mere child and have not dreamed
what love is."
"I have never had to dream of love,"
she said proudly. "I have never
known anything else in all my life
but to love every one and to have
every one love me. And there has
never been any one so clear as
Freckles. if you will remember, we
leave been through a good deal to-
gether. I do love Freckles, just as
/ say I do. I don't know anything
about the Jove of sweethearts. but I
love him with all the love In my
heart, and 1 think that will satisfy
him."
"Surely it ought!" muttered the man
of knives and lancets.
"..ts for my father," continued the
angel, "be at onee told me what he
learned from you about Freckles.
I've known all you know for vgiveral
weeks. That knowledge didn't change
your love for him a particle. I think
the Bird Woman loved him more.
Why should you two have, all the
Brie perception e there are? My father
is never unreasonable. He won't ex-
pect me not to love Freckles, or not
to tell him so, if the telling will save
him."
She darted past McLean Into
Freckles' Nom, closed the door and
turned the key.
Freckles lay raised on a at
love, his body immovable in a plaster
cast, his maimed arm, as always, bid-
den. The angel's heart ached at the
change In his appearance. He seem-
ed so tveak, so utterly hcipeless and
so alone. She could see that the night
bad been one long terror.
For the first time she tried putting
bete& In Freckles' place. What would
it mean to have no parents, no home,
no mine? No name! That was the
worst Of all. That was to be lost,
Indeed—utterly and hopelessly lost, The
abgel lifted her hands to her dazed
head and reeled ars she tried to faCe
that proposition. She dropped on het
knees by the bed, slipped her arm un-
der the pillow, and, leaning over
irreckles, !et her lips On his forehead.
Be smiled faintly.
"Dear Freckles," she said, "there le
(dory in your eyes this Morning,
tell me?'
Freckle" draw a long, wavering
breath.
"Abseil," he beggeO, "be generous!
Ile thinking of Me a little. I'm 80
..litOrn Out, deo e angel,
Hz LOVE YOU BETTER VIAN AwIt ONE,
ennotrars."
his answer a second, and when none
came, she dropped her crimsoning face
beside bim on the pillow and whis-
pered:
"Freckles, I—I'm trying to make love
to you. Can't you help me just a little
bit? It's, awful hard all alone1
don't know bow, *when I really mean
it, but Freckles, I love you. I must
have you, and now 1 guess—I guess
maybe I'd better kiss you next."
She bravely laid her feverish, quiv-
ering lips on his. Her breath, like
clover bloom, was in his nostrils, and
her hair touched his face. .
"Freckles," she panted, "Frecklesi
I didn't think it was in you to be
mean!"
"Mean, angel! Mean to you?" gasp-
ed Freckles,
"Yes," said the angel, "downright
mean. When one kisses you, it you
had any mercy at all you'd kiss back,
just a little bit. Now, I'm going to
try it over, and I want you to help me
a little. You aren't too sick to help
me just a little, Freckles?'
CHAPTER XXI.
SEEXING A BIRTHllIGHT.
HECKLES' sinewy fist knotted
into the coverlet. His chin
pointed cellingward and his
head rooked on the pillow.
"Wait a bit, angel!" he begged. "Be
giving me a little time!"
The angel rose with controlled fea-
tures. She bathed hts face, straighten-
ed his hair and held water to his lips.
It seemed an age before he reached for
her. She took his hand and leaned
ber cheek upon it.
'Tell me, Freckles," she whispered
softly.
"If I can," said Freckles, in biting
agony. "It's just this. Angels are from
above. Outcasts are from below.
You've a sound body and you're beau -
Mutest of all. You bave everything
that loving, careful raising and money
can give you. I have so much Jess
than nothing tbat 1 don't suppose .1
had any right to be born. It's a sure
thing—nobody wanted we afterward,
ate et course, they didn't before. $ome
of them should have been telling you
long ago."
"If that's all yeti We to tell,
Freckles, I've known that quite
awhile," said the angel stoutly, "Mr.
McLean told my father, and he told
me. That only makes me love you
more, to pay for all you've missed."
"Then I'm wondering at you," said
Freekles, in a voice of awe. "Can't
you see that if you 'were willing and
your father would come and offer you
to me, I couldn't be touching the
soles of your feet, in love—me, whose
people brawled over me, cut off me
hand, and throwed me Away to freeze
and to die! Me, Who has no name
just as much because I've no right
to any,as because I don't know it
When I Was little, I planned to find
me father and mother when I grew
up. Now I know me *mother deserted
me, and roe father was maybe a thief
and surely a liar. The pity of me
Buffering and the Watching over me
has gone to yoUr head, dear angel,
and it's ine must be thinking for you.
If you could be forgetting Me lost
hand, where 1 Was raised, Mid that I
had no name to give yea, and if you
Would be taking mo ne 1 AM, SoMe
day people such as mine Mita be
Might COM° upon you, 1 tsed to pray
ivory night and morning and many
times tho day to tree me Mother, Now
I only pray to die quickly and never
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your dear bead. ()h, do, for mercy
sake, kiss me once more and be let-
ting me go!"
"Not for a minute!" cried the angel.
"Not for a minute, if those are all
the reasons you have. There are
thousands of young couples who come
to this country and start a family
with none of their relatives here. Chi-
cago Is a big city, and grown people
could be wiped out in a lot of ways,
and who would there ever be to find
to whom their little children belonged?
It's all so plain to me. Oh, if 1 could
only make you see!"
She buried her face in the pillow and
presently lifted it transfigured.
"Now I have it!" sbe cried. "Oh, dear
heart! I can make it so plain! Freck-
I les, can you imagine you see the old
Limberlost trail? Well. when we fol-
lowed it, you know, there were places
where ugly prickly thistles overgrew
the path, and you went ahead with
your club and bent them back to keep
theni from stinging through my cloth-
ing. Other places there were great
shining pools where lovely, snow white
lilies grew, and you waded in and
gathered them for me. Oh, dear heart,
don't you see? It's this! Everywhere
the wind carried that thistledown, oth-
er thistles sprang up and grew prick-
les and wherever those lily seeds sank
to the mire the pure white of other
lilies bloomed. But.. Freckles, there
was never a place anywhere about the
Limberlost, or in the whole world,
where the thistledown Ideated and
sprang up and blossomed into white
lilies! Thistles grow from thistles and
lilies grow other lilies. Dear Freckles,
think hard! You must see it! You are
lily, straight through! You never, nev-
er could have drifted from the thistle
patch.
"Where did you get the courage to
go into the Limberlost and face its ter-
rors? You inherited it irom the blood
or a brave father, dear neart Where
Alt! you get the pluck to hold for over
a year a job tbstt few men would Have
taken at all? You got it from a plucky
mother, you bravest of boys. You wad-
ed single handed into a man almost
twice your size and fought like a
demon, just at the suggestion that you
could be deceptive and dishonest.
Could your mother or your father have
been untruthful? Here you are, so
hungry and starved out that you are
dying for love. Where did you get all
that capacity for loving? You didn't
inherit it from hardened, heartless
people vvho would disfigure you and
purposely leave you to die, that's one
sure thing. Yet you will spend miaer-
able years torturing yourself with the
Idea that your own mother might have
cut off that hand. Shame on you,
Freckles! Your mother would have
done this"—
The angel deliberately turned back
the cover, slipped up the sleeve and
laid her lips on the scars.
"Freckles," she cried, "Come to your
senses! Be a thinking, reasoning
man! You just must see it! Like
breeds like In ij13 vvorldl .You must
LIINTOA,47 '..,,matariL,-1" aaitS,LL-.-AminueeMkaria
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That's Why You're Tlred—Out of
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Genuine must boar Signature
anymerrinveuvemtmornmoevit
be some 'Sort' of' reproduction ot your
parents, and 1 ant net afraid to vomit
for them, not for a minute.
".A.ncl then, toe, if more PrOOt 18
needed here it Is: Mr. McLean says
that. you axe the moet perfect geu-
tleman he ever knew, and ne as
traveled the world over. Then
there's your singing, don't believe
there ever was a mortal with a meet-
er voice than yours, and while that
doesn't prove anything there is a
point that does. Just the little train-
ing you bad from that choirmaster
won't account for the wonderful ae-
cent and ease with which you sing.
Somewhere in your close bleed is a
marvelously trained vocalist; we
every one or os believe that, Freckles.
"Why does my rather refer to you
constantly as being ot line perception,
and boner? Because you are.
Freckles. Why does the Bird Woman
leave her precious work and stay
here to belp look atter you? 1 never
beard ot her losing any time over
any one else. It's because she loves
you. And why does Mr. McLean turn
all or his valuable business over to
hired men and watch over you per-
sonally? And why is he bunting ex-
cuses every day to spend money on
yon? My father says McLean is fun
Scotch close with a dollar. He is a
hard headed business man, Freckles,
and be Is doing It because he finds
you worthy ot it. Worthy ot all we
can all do and more than we know
how to do, dear heart! Freckles, are
you listening to me? Oh, won't you
see it? Won't you believe it?"
"Oh. angel," chattered the bewil-
dered Freckles, "are you truly mean -
lug it? Could it be?"
"Of course It could," flashed the an-
gel, "because it just isr
"But you can't prove it," wailed
Freckles. "It ain't giving me a name
ar me tumor!"
"Freckles." said the angel sternly,
"you are unreasonable!" Why, I did
prove every word I said! Everything
proves it! You look here! If you knew
for sure that I could give you your
name and your honor, and prove to you
that your mother did love you, why,
tben would you just go to breathing
like perpetual motion and bang on for
dear life and get well?"
A great light leaped into Freckles'
eyes.
"lf I knew that, angel," he said sot-
emnly, "you couldn't be killing me It
you felled the biggest tree in the Lim-
berlost smasb on men'
"Then you go rigbt to work," said
the angel, "and before night 1'11 prove
one thing to you; 1 can stiow you ets-
ily enough how much your mother
loved you. Tbat will be the first step,
and then the rest will all come."
Freckles caught her sleeve.
"Me mother, angel! Me mother!" he
marveled hoarsely. "Dia you say you
could be finding out today if me moth.
er loved me? How? Oh. arise!! Alt
the rest don't matter, if only me moth-
er didn't do it!"
"Then you rest easy," said the angel,
with large confidence. "Your mother
didn't do it. Mothers ot sons like you
don't do such things as that. I'll go to
work ht once and prove it to you. The
first thing to do is to go to that home
where you were and get the little
clothes you wore the night you were
left there. I know that they are re-
quired to save those things carefully.
We can find out almost all there is to
know about your mother from them.
DM you ever see them, Freckles?"
"Yis." said Freckles.
The angel thornily pounced on him.
"Freckles, were tbey white?" she
cried.
"Maybe they were once. They're all
yellow with laying, and brown with
blood stains now," said Freckles, the
old note of bitterness creeping in. "You
can't be telling anything at all by
them, angel."
"Well, but 1 just can!" said the an
gel positively.
"But how? Angel, tell me bow!"
"Why. easily enough. 1 thouglit
you'd understand. People that can af-
ford anything at all, always get white
for little new babies—linen and kieti,
and the very finest things to be had
l'here's a young woman living near
its who cut up her wedding clothes to
have fine things for her baby. Moth-
ers that love and want their babies
make fine seams, and twits. and put
on lace and trimming by hand. They
sit and stitch. and stitch—little, even
stitches, every one just as careful
'Fbeir eyes shine and their faces glow.
When they have to quit to do Some.
thing else, they look sorry, and fold
up their work so particularly. There
isn't twirl) worth knowing about your
mother that those little clothes won't
telt.'
A new tignt dawned in Freekies
('3 ('5
'Oh. angel; Will you go now? Will
yen be hurrying?' ne cried.
"Hunt away." said tne angel. "t
won't stop fax a thing, and l'll hurry
with all my might."
She smoothed his pillow, straight-
ened the cover. gave him one steady
look in the eye% and went quietly
from the 'MM.
Outside the door, McLean and the
stir,con anxiously awaited her. Me.
Lean (-aught her shoulders.
"Angel, WIRIt have you done?" he
ti demanded desperately.
id'he tinge] smiled de/intim
"What have 1 done?" she repeated,
i "I've tried to Save Freckles."
i McLean groaned.
I "Whet Will your
1 ePied.
1 "It !strikes Me."
: "that IvIsett Greet:lea
! the Mitt."
' "Preckleel" burst out
1 "What eteald be say"
; "tat seemed to be able to Say Several
i' thinge." &Sid the angel sweetly. "I
fancy the one that eoacerila yOil Moat
father stty?' he
said the angel.
said would be to
McLean.
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at areeint Was; that 'it my father
would offer me to him he would not
have me."
"And no one knows why better than
I do," thundered McLean. "Every day
he must astonish me with some new
fineness."
He gripped the surgeon until Ile al-
most lifted him from the floor.
"Save him!" he commanded, "Save
nlm!" be implored. "He is too line to
be saerinced."
"His salvation Iles here," said the
surgeon, stroking the angel's sunshiny
baits "and I can read in the face of
her that she knows bow she is going to
work it out. She will save him!"
The angel sped laughingly down the
hall, and into the street, just as she
was.
"I have come." she saki to the matron
of the home, "to ask if you will allow
me to examine, or. better stilt, to take
with me, the little clothes that a boy
you called Freckles, discharged last
fall, wore the night you took him "
The woman eyed her in greater
astonishment than the case called for.
"Well, l'd be glad to let you see
them.' she said, "but the fact Is we
haven't them. I do hope we haven't
made some mistake. 1 was thoroughly
convinced, and so was the superinten•
dent. We let his people take those
things away yesterday. Who are you.
and what do you want with them?"
'The angel molted at the matron
dazed and speechless.
uThLe couldn't Inv° been a cols -
take," she continued, seeing the girl's
distress, "Freckles was here when I
took charge, ten sears ago. These
people had it all proved plain as day
that he belonged to them. They had
him traced to wisere he ran away down
In Illinois last fall, and there they
eompleteIy lost track of him. Pm
sorry you seem so terribly disappointed.
but it was all right. The man was his
uncle, and as like the boy as he could
possibly be. Ile was almost killed to
go back without him. if you know
where Freckles Is, they'd give big
money to thid out."
"Who are they?" stammered the an-
gel. "Where are they going back to?".
"They are Irish folks. Miss," said
the matron. "They have been in Chl-
'Imo Mn itou *Nu witAT DO TOn 'WANT
wpm Timm?'
cago and ()Vet the Country for the last
throe months, inoAqag hitt everywhere.
They ha's given up and are ettarting
honie- te0a3. Th.037"—. • '
"Did' they leaVe an address? Where
could 1 find them?" burst in the angel.
"They left a card, and I ootice the
morning paper has the man!s picture,
and is full of them. They've adver-
tised a great deal in the city papers.
It's a wander you haven't seen some-
thing."
"Trains don't run right. We never
get Chicago papers." snapped the an-
gel. "Please give me that card quick-
ly. They may get away from me. I
simply have to catch them!"
The matron came back with a card.
"Their addresses are on there," she
said. "Both here in Chicago and at
their home. They made them full and
plain, and 1 was to cable at once if t
got the least clew of Mtn at any time.
if they've left the city, you can stop
them in New York. You're sure to
catch them before they sail—if you
hurry."
The matron caught up a paper and
thrust it into the angel's liana as she
rushed for the street.
CHAPTER X X II.
THE ANGELS GLAD STORY.
HE angef glanced at the card.
Tee Chicago address was suit
11, Auditorium. She laid her
band 013 ber driver's sleeve.
"There's a fast driving Una?" she
asked.
"Yes, miss."
"Will you crowd it all you can with-
out danger of arrest? 1 will' pay well.
I must catch some people!"
Then she smiled at tdm. The hos-
pital, an orphans' borne, and the Audi-
torium seemed a queer combination to
that driver, but the angel was always
and everywhere the angel, and iser
ways were strictly her own.
"I will get you there just as quickly
as any man could with a team,* be
said promptly.
She clung to the card and paper,
and, as best she could in the lurching.
swaying cab, read the addresses over.
"O'Mores suite eleven, Auditorium."
'"O'More,'" she repeated. "Seems
to tit Freckles to a dot. Wonder if
that could be his name? 'Suite eleven;
means that you are pretty well fixed.
Suites In the Auditorium come high."
Then she turned the card and read
on its reverse, Lord Maxwell O'More,
M. P., Iiilivany place, County Clore,
Ireland.
"A lord manr' she groaned despair-
ingly. "A lord man! Bet my hoe
cake's scorched!"
She blinked back the tear e and,
spreading the paper on her knee, read:
"Alter three months' fruitless search,
Lord O'More gives up the quest for
his lost nephew, and leaves Chicago
todny for his home in Ireland."
She read on, and realized every word
of it. The likeness settled it. It was
Pretties over again, only older and
elegantly dressed. There was not a
chance to doubt.
"l'inink you; and wait. 00 matter
how long," she said to her &leer.
Catching up the paper. she hurried
to the desk and laid down Lora
0'N1 ore's card.
"llas my uncle started yet?" she
nsked, eweetly.
The snrprised elerk stepped back on
a bellboy, and covertly kicked him for
tieing in the way.
"His lordship Is in his room." be
said, With a lOw bow.
The clerk shoved the bellboy toward
the anget.
,stiew tcar ladyShip to the elevator'
and Lord °Mores suit." he NO.
bowing double.
At the bellboy'S tap the door swung
open and the liveried etrirant thilast *
card fro Wore thi angel.
Th)3i CONTINUED.