MUSIC ON THE <strong>FARM</strong> When -the Boys Come Home Help Them Sing—Sing—Sing! CHARLES D. ISAACSON is to be a little talk <strong>of</strong> a way Tlis to get more out <strong>of</strong> your land and your labor and your life. It isn't ¦ -• _ ' religion or philosophy- or talk. ,-' It's not for highbrows or lowbrows. It's for the entire farm community. ¦y It's music, something we all enjoy. ¦ > .Too many people think t- that music is far away from ;=>them, because it is capable t <strong>of</strong> lifting them 'way up into * the clouds. Too many fine >.sensiblev folk have never -realized the potent power ' <strong>of</strong>-music to get behind plows and churns and saws and all the jobs <strong>of</strong> the farm because they've never seen it at work. So this talk <strong>of</strong> mine is to be bottom facts >'about it . . ' - A grouch is a poor, worker, " the singing idea is being planted by Uncle Sam. Will ypu try it out on the farm? Get the crowd-'together the ^rst so? Well, if a song will make a smile out <strong>of</strong> a frown, it's a great thing to have around. If you'll get your people singing and .humming and whistling, J-youJye. done a * hole lot to jclear Out the .weeds <strong>of</strong> disr'
Chapter XV awake, Trevanion- stood WIDE with his hands on the railing, drinking in the cold air. The full moon and twinkling stars rnade the heavens a thing <strong>of</strong> dazzling beauty. Beneath, the desolate, sandy tracts gleamed like molten silver, while far away to the northeast a coppery, red glow betokened the light <strong>of</strong> a prairie fire. He began His descent <strong>of</strong> the staircase slowly, buttoning his overcoat tightly across his chest, half minded to return and crawl into his comfortable bed. ' But as he hesitated, he made a startling discovery—a few.feet from the ground, a broad beam <strong>of</strong> light issuing, neither from moon nor stars, lay athwart the curving steps. Why Trevanion was so amazed to find Herford awake and occupied at that hour it would be hard to tell. Making no pretense <strong>of</strong> caution, he drew nearer. The heavy shutters which as a rule were drawn across the windows, were flung wide to the night, and from within came the sound <strong>of</strong> voices, Herford's and one other. Trevanion recognized it after a moment as belonging to Beverly, soldier <strong>of</strong> fortune. < ««T DON'T know what to make '<strong>of</strong> it," * Beverly was reiterating, "I don't like it!" The emphatic thump which reached the listener's ears was caused apparently by the impact <strong>of</strong> the speaker's fist against solid wood. '' He's practically your guest, Herford, but I don't see how I can let him go in the morning. I'm not fool enough to think he committed the murder but for heaven's sake, what's his connection with the affair? What was the object <strong>of</strong> his trip to the mountains? I've trailed him for the last three weeks without being a whit the wiser. One thing," his voice dropped to a lowered note, "he's taken your sister into his confidence. I corralled her in her tent at midnight just before they left, told her about finding the boy'sclothes and all—and would you believe it, she'd known it all along! She's a game little sport. Do you think she'd give the show away? Pleaded with me to trust Trevanion and promised me it would all come out right in the end. I'd give a good deal to.hear a woman defend me as that little sister <strong>of</strong> yours did Trevanion." On the stairs without Trevanion stood motionless, lis had not intended to eavesdrop but every word had rung clear. The fact that Beverly had been trailing him in connection with the Schneider case was disconcerting enough but worse still, the woman he loved—he admitted it now —had stood for him against law and order on the strength <strong>of</strong> his word alone. And how had he repaid her? By insulting thoughts and brutal caresses whose very touch had been defilement! Stumbling heavily he went on down the stairs, heedless <strong>of</strong> discovery, burning with a sense <strong>of</strong> impotent shame. He passed the lighted window but the two men, deep in conversation , seemed unaware <strong>of</strong> his careless departure. THE clinging sands dragged at his feet as he turned and walked toward the river. Anything, anywhere to escape the torture <strong>of</strong> his restless mind! Trevanion sat down upon the bank and stared at it with unseeing eyes, his right hand clenched against a heavy slab <strong>of</strong> rock. Love had weighed him in the balance and found him wanting. And a girl like Peggy—high-spirited and proud—would she grant him another chance? She must— she should! His senses flamed to the thought <strong>of</strong> her shy, sweet surrender, and in the sudden passion <strong>of</strong> the moment it seemed to him that the very rock beneath his hand quivered in response. Did it actually move? Startled, he waited, then edged away with a stealthy, sidewise motion for slowly and silently the rock was moving outward, until it lay prone upon the face <strong>of</strong> the river bank. Trevanion's fascinated gaze remained fixed upon the opening where was framed a pair <strong>of</strong> meager shoulders and a shock <strong>of</strong> sandy hair—the missing lad! Trevanion and the boy spied each other at the same moment, and with a hoarse cry <strong>of</strong> alarm the latter dived like And so Trevanion Comes Into His Own, King and Hero and Lover a rabbit back into his burrow then realizing the futility <strong>of</strong> such a course crept out again, his small, furtive eyes peering beseechingly into Trevanion's face. "Cripey but yer caught me again!" he whispered. "Yer there, govner, when it comes to poppin' up unexpected like." "YOU'RE rather 'unexpected like' your- * self," retorted Trevanion, "but as it happens, you're the very person I want to see." Grasping the shrinking figure by the collar, he propelled it firmly a safe distance from the tunnel entrance. "Right now," he said, "I'm waiting for your confession—a full and detailed account <strong>of</strong> the riiurder <strong>of</strong> old man Schneider. Beverly's at the ranch this minute talking to Herford. If you leavcout anything I oucht to know. I'll take vou UD there and I O -- - - - , - j —j- -- — deliver you into his hands." The boy squirmed frantically in Trevanion's clutch. "I'll tell," he gasped, "if you'll keep Beverly away. He'd 'ang me sure—and fer a snake like Schneider!" "Go on—never mind Schneider—I want to hear your side <strong>of</strong> it." Suddenly the lad squared his shoulders: "I'm English," he announced resolutely, "and Schneider's German. I went to work fer 'im over in the settlement last year cause times was 'ard and I couldn't find nothin' else. He 'ad a furniture factory." "Well?" the listener's tone was sharp with interest. "Well—I 'adn't been there long afore "THAT NIGHT ;. ' YOU CAME BACK FOR YOUR GLOVES— ft' fi| ' { J? ¦ ' / ') DO TOH REMEMBER?— I WAS ON THE POINT OF / SHOOTING MYSELF BECAUSE BUSINESS HAD HADE ME ITS PAWN—DRIVEN ME INTO A CORNER" I begins to see the old man was workin' on a side line. 'Alf the wood that come in wasn't used but somehow it disappeared and always at night; and sometimes in the mornin' the factory 'd be full <strong>of</strong> lumber that weren't there the night before. It struck me sort <strong>of</strong> odd like, so I ast the old man about it once and he was that mad I thought 'e'd choke—told me to mind my own business or 'e'd bust in my bloomin' 'ead. Well, one day I was feelin' kind <strong>of</strong> sick, pains in my side and cold like, and THE PAWN DONNA SHERWOOD BOGERT when it comes to qutttin time I cashed in behind a pile <strong>of</strong> lumber afore 1 'ad time to call out. When I came to the doors was locked. I didn't like it much because it was gettin' dark by. that time and I knew if I unlocked a window and climbed out the old man'd give me fits come mornin'. He was awful particular about them window fastenin's—" He paused a moment for breath and then continued, his eyes wide with fear. "As I was sayin', I was ramblin' round tryin' to make up my mind what to do, when I heerd a noise at one <strong>of</strong> the little side doors as though someone was tryin' to* get in without makin" too much fuss about it. I remembered all <strong>of</strong> a sudden it might be the night watchman, and 'e'd let me out—but all the same I made tracks fer my pile <strong>of</strong> lumber, and I got behind it jest as the door opened and a man come in swingin' a lantern. I could see 'im through the cracks but instead <strong>of</strong> the night watchman, it were old man Schneider 'imself and jest fer a minute a little prickly feelin' went down my backbone. After nosin' round a bit he shuffled <strong>of</strong>f toward the <strong>of</strong>fice. t( I STAYED there fer nigh onto two hours *¦ and four or five times I heerd the big, front door creakin' on its 'inges but there weren't another sound and I couldn't tell whether the old man were lettin' folks in or jest travelin' in and out 'imself. My legs and arms too began to- get numblike from keepin' so still so I thought I'd take a little peek round on my own 'ook. " 'Twas a long ways to the <strong>of</strong>fice but I pussy-footed down through the lumber piles and come up close to the <strong>of</strong>fice door with nary a sound. The door was shut and a light was shinin' through the keyhole, and when 1 'ad a look the room was full <strong>of</strong> men as fur as I could see—and old Schneider in the middle <strong>of</strong> 'em, with a wad <strong>of</strong> papers spread all around 'im." Trevanion's grasp tightened on the lad's shoulder. Vague suspicions stirred in his brain but the heart <strong>of</strong> the mystery was still beyond him. German plotting—Ger- man secrecy—enormous shipments <strong>of</strong> wood under cover <strong>of</strong> the night—what did it all portend?. "What .happened then?" "I listened," said the boy frankly. "They was smugglin' wood outa Canada and sendin' it to Germany. Jest how they worked it, I dunno—submarines most likely. They said a lot about airships too —a new, speedy sort—but they was allfired shy on the kind <strong>of</strong> wood they wanted, while the Rockies was full <strong>of</strong> it." "QF COURSE, <strong>of</strong> course," mumbled ^-* Trevanion to himself. He boasted more than a general knowledge <strong>of</strong> aeroplane construction. "Spruce and ash only—plain as the nose on my face! And the blamed Kaiser laughing up ' his sleeve for God ' knows Jiow long!" He shook with silent rage and cursed what he took for his own stupidity in not solving the mystery earlier. He released the boy with a suddenness that sent him reeling. "Go on up to the house and tell Beverly your story," he commanded. "Schneider was" a German spy—it doesn't matter how or why you killed him. The police won't hold you!" The lad's eyes glowed. ' "I did it. fer England!" he explained wistfully. "There ain't no one can do 'er dirt when I'm around. The old man come out into the factory after the others 'ad gone, he and a feller named Lennox " Trevanion started. Here was a new trail. "Schneider 'ad a map in his 'and showin' a juicy piece <strong>of</strong> woods their men 'ad located and the other feller laid down 'is pistol to look it over. I was back behind my pile <strong>of</strong> lumber again and they was all-fired dost but they mightn't a seen me 'cept that I was mad clean through and I got to the gun first." He drew a long, quivering breath. "Well, I shot 'im. 'E didn't deserve no chanst—and the > other feller couldn't do nothin' cause I 'ad 'is gun." Trevanion leaned eagerly forward. "The other fellow," he said, "this Lennox—what had he to do with it?" And in glove with Schneider," returned the boy promptly. A sly expression crossed his countenance. "He's kept me in luxury all winter," he chuckled, "scairt to give me up, and too tender- 'earted to put me out <strong>of</strong> the way. I spied 'im in 'is bunk house the night you give me the clothes, and he's been a daddy to me ever since." Chapter XVI itVM GLAD Basil changed his mind," * Miss Dorothea was saying. "We were so afraid, Peggy, that we'd have to go without seeing you again." "Yes?" queried the girl calmly. A faint flicker <strong>of</strong> contempt shone for a moment in her eyes, not for the woman who sat on the step beside her, a thin arm about her waist, but for the tall figure lounging against a veranda pillar in the moonlight. "I'm so proud <strong>of</strong> Basil," went on Miss Dorothea, happily unconscious <strong>of</strong> the real state <strong>of</strong> affairs. "Think <strong>of</strong> him capturing that murderer single-handed and finding out all about that wicked German plot." Peggy laughed and even the older woman was aware <strong>of</strong> a flaw in her attitude toward the hero, <strong>of</strong> the hour. «DOOR little murderer!" she laughed * ironically. "He wasn't bigger than a pint <strong>of</strong> cider, was he? I almost fancy I could have landed him myself." Trevanion bit savagely on the end <strong>of</strong> a mutilated cigar. He knew that he deserved all he was getting and he resolved doggedly to hang on to the bitter end but his pride since Peggy's return had been flayed to a finish. "There was no question <strong>of</strong> a capture," he said coldly. "The boy gave himself up at my advice. I knew a trial would exonerate him. As for Lennox's part in the affair, I was as much surprised as anybody—hadn't a suspicion. It seems his mother was <strong>of</strong> German birth but his father was clean American and Lennox's exposure nearly killed him." Peggy rose, drawing the other woman with her. "Miss Dottie, it's time we turned in (CONTINUED ON PAGE 1801
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