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30 SENIOR MAGNET the town looked upon it and Its owner with driad, but their parents were all well acquainted with its dismal story and it ?as no longer of any particular interest (to them. I 1 he Owner of the mansion was William Sti art, a hard, miserly man who could boast of few neighbors and no friends. I At the age of thirty-five he had married a charming girl of nineteen aiuj it soon became known that it was the! social position as mistress of that stately old mansion rather than the devotion of the man that had won her heant. Two years later a pair of little strangers came to their home. The car ? of the two children occupied most of fhe young wife’s time and her great loye tor her babies either made Margrethe. vgrave with scarcely the semblance ot grief on the part of her hard-hearted husband. Martin grew up and attended school with the rest of the boys of the toivn lie sought his pleasures in their lies- s rather than in his own. As for William Stuart little can be said of the fifteen years of his life after the disappearance of his child and the death of his wife except that he grew more sullen than of old. He no longer hesitated to say that all he had, which was no mean fortune, he would gladly give if he could only have his daughter and her mother. But the mother, lie knew, was beyond recall and he no longer entertained any hopes of finding her oblivious of or indifferent to her husbands cruel neglect. For two years and a half she was apparently happy, but one day her happiness was turned to the deepest sorrow. The babies, Martin and Margrethe, were playing in the yard one sunny afternoon when a man who had been lurking near the gate, entered and began to talk tx the children. lie talked a few minutes and finally took Margrethe in his arms and walked away. Martin, being too young to understand the real significance of the act, wandered about among the flowers. When Mildred jStuart went out to look for the children she was frantic at the loss of her baby girl. Rough, stingy and unkind as Wm. Stuart was he spared neither time nor money in his search for his little daughter. As his efforts became more hopeless and futile he became more neglectful of his wife’s happiness, for he unjustly laid the blame of his misfortune on the shoul- LOne evening he was particularly lonely and he decided to attend the.religious services being held in the little church at the foot of the hill. The minister was an evangelist from a western state and his daughter sang at most of the meetings. lie knew he would enjoy the songs and he could leave if he did not wish to listen to the sermon. With the last thought uppermost in his mind he went to church. He almost wished he had remained at home but from the moment that Margaret Miller began to sing he was unable to give his attention to any one else. Why did her beautiful face attract him so? Did he not hate all Why did she women ? such disturbing memories of his bring back - fn' happy wife? He would leave at once, lie thought. Then again he decided to stjjjy, and stay he did until services were over. As he stepped thorugh (he church door he was much surprised to see Martin walking away by the side ders of lfis young wife. All the love oj Rev. Miller’s daughter. His heart that she lavished upon her baby' son ' suddenly filed with dislike for the girl, could not brighten her cloud of sorrow Why he felt that way he could scarcely and she sank prematurely into he tell unless it was because she reminded
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SENIOR MAGNET 29 Send out a man as usual, then about five when the mists are clearing I will go out wrapped in white and when you hear the first bomb go off, have all the troops charge and while you are crossing the space I will see that they are kcpt: busy and the machine guns destroyed. Now, sir, does it go?” All the faces were grave with thought, so Norm stepped outside to permit them to discuss the plan. Soon Surgeon Howe came out and placing his hands on Norm’s shoulders he said, “Good hoy, I can only pray it works.” Tl at morning just as the mists wavered faintly in the breeze a white cloaked figure crept over the mound in front of the British trench, creeping half doubled along the ground, farther and farther away until its movement became one with the movements of the fog. Now the fog was thinning, there the search light, a wavering pencil of light, nearer, nearer, nearer! Why didn’t it strike him? There a shadowy form loomed in its focus but the figure widened, shortened, narrowed, lengthened. How was anyone to hit a phanthom thing like that? A few reports sounded but the figure had disappeared. Could Norm, the laughing Norm, the one to whom all turned for spirit when war seemed driving them insane, could he have been killed? Then all at once an ear-splitting peal rent the air, closely followed by another and another. Out of the trenches pounded the British troops, eagerly taking up the distance between them. Had not one man done it, so why not they f As Surgeon Howe ran, urged on by tie repeating thunder of bombs as they were thrown he panted, “Good gosh ! How many of those things did that man carry? One is bad enough but I’ve counted eight and expect to hear another in a minute. He said he would keep them busy. ‘Coward!’ Bosh!” At nine o’clock the British forces were in possession of the trench and Generali Nivelle from the south had taken possession of the trench and Forts Combles and Buchavennes. The roll was called to determine the dead or missing and Norm was found wanting—Norm, the hero, missing! Regardless of commands the men broke ranks and scattered but it was Surgeon Howe that found him. Down in the curve, using for support a broken machine gun, he called to the Surgeon for aid and then collapsed. The men carried him to the General’s tent and, laying him on the cot, went out and joined their comrades to await news. The surgeon ordered all from the tent and began investigations. “It's no use, sir. You see they got me the first thing but I had to put out those guns because I knew my plan was good, sir. ‘I’m no coward.” His voice with its catch of weakness, its hesitation, went on, “Have I made good, sir, for England?” A fluttering hand reached out and grasping the hand of General Howe in a grasp born of agony he tried to speak, “Tell Nellie, I promised Mother------.” But it was too late, for the gates had opened wide and the soldier’s soul had passed through. But those last words told the secret of “The Coward.” MARGRETHE—LOST AND FOUND MARY HOLT In the little town of Darlington the the dark old stone mansion on the hill only foreboding shadow seemed to be side facing the town. The children of
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SENIOR MAGNET 31 him of his loss. He had no faith in women and he selfishly decided that Martin should not become a friend of Margaret Miller’s. As he walked home lie risolved to send his son to relatives in a distant city. Martin was given no choice in the matter and his father tcdd him to go on the first train in the morning. In his heart he rebelled against such injustice. All his life he had onged for a sister and now when he was about to know the friendship of a girl of his own age, why was he Inured away like this? He almotet wished he had never met Margaret Miller hut he knew to remonstrate with his father would only make matters worse. His father went with him to 'flie train and in his gruff way wished him a safe journey. As the train disappeared a great wave of unutterable loneliness swept over William Stuart and he felt that he could not go immediately back to his empty home so he decided to walk dowi a quiet street. He passed Margaret Miller and he lowered his head in shame when he thought how unjustly lie had sent Martin away from her. He had not gone far until he noticed a small gold locket lying on the walk, He nicked it up and turned it over in his fingers. “How familiar it looks. Didn't 1 give one something like it to Mildred the Christmas before we were married?” he thought. “I wonder where it is?” He turned it over once and finally opened it. He staggered blindly toward the fence for support. Could he believe what he saw? A yet ihe picture could be none oth than his and his wife’s. He had no more time for thought for a trembling hand on his coat sleeve suddenly brought his hack to his senses. “Did you see my locket? I lost it on this street.” He turned to answer his ques- 1 L . .nd her tioner and found her to be Margaret Miller. “Where did you get this locket? Whose pictures are there? Tell me, child,” he said almost kindly. “I have had it ever since I can remember. Father said I had it when he got me from the home.” “What home? Where is your father? Tell me about yourself,” and the questions came so fast that Margaret was bewildered and asked if he would like to see her father. “Yes, yes,” said the trembling old man, “Take me to him at once.” Margaret, still surprised at his agitation, led the way to the house where she and her father were staying. “Where did you get this 'girl?” was Wm. Stuart’s first abrupt question. Mr. Miller seemed much taken by surprise at such a question. He had long dreaded the time when the question would he asked, for he loved Margaret as if she were his own daughter, yet he little imagined that a man like Wm. Stuart would ask it. Then the thought came to him that if he did not tell she would always be his. Just then Margaret said, “Tell him, Father, T believe he has a right to know.” With a hope in his heart that this might not be any one who would lay claim to Margaret he began his story and Wm. Stuart listened as one who was afraid he might miss even one word. Mr. Miller said he had one son who was five years old at the time they took Margaret into their home. “My wife and I had talked many times of adopting a little girl to he a sister to Robert. We went to an orphan’s home and there Margaret was shown us. They said that a man brought her there one day and told a pitiful story of how the baby’s mother had died and he had no one with whom he could leave
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