The Mine Master's Heir OR THE REAL JOHN SMITH.

King Country Chronicle, Volume IV, Issue 261, 21 May 1910, Page 4

The Mine Master's Heir OR THE REAL JOHN SMITH.

(All nights Reserved.)

■ ■ - T By HEDLEY RICHARDS, \uthor of ''Out of Darkness," " A Day of Reckoning," Etc. CHAPTER I. 1-118 ONLY SON. "I wouldn't ride him again ; he's a Irute," said Squire Gelder as he leaned against the stone door pi-Jar snl watched his nephew vainly attempt to mount a splendid black horse that the groom found some difficulty in holding. "He's, a beauty!" replied the young man as he made another effort to mount. "A beauty with a temper. Just you sell him, John," said the squire as his nephew vaulted into ihe saddle. "Let go !" he called to the groom; and the words were scarcely out of his mouth when horse and rider were flying down th« avenue. " Hope Mr. John will get home safely, sir;" said the groom as he touched a forelock of hair. "So do I and there was uneasiness in Squire Gelder's tone, and as he puSed at his pipe he thought ; "Said he'd master the brute. Just like his father—won't give in. And Betty's the same. Not. a bit like their mother." Meanwhile the young man on the horse found it all he could do to keep his seat. The Black King, as he was called, objected to him, and would suddenly rear and plunge. Once he tried to back into a hedge, but it was no good ; the rider held on like grim death, and finding his iittle game didn't pay, the horse set off at a mad gallop. "There's Mr. John. He's on that black devil that threw young Dixon, the farmer," said a working man who, with two or three others, was standing smoking his pipe by the wayside. The men turned to look after their master's son, then an exclamation burst simultaneously from them as the horse swerved, then reared on his hind legs, and in a second they saw the rider shot from his back over the stone parapet of the bridge into the ravine below, where the horse, freed from his burden, rushed forward.

"My God, if he should be killed !" said the man who had before spoken ; and, taking to his heels, they descended bank, and there, lying curiously doubled up, they found the young master. - '"ls he dead, Bob ?" asked a young fellow as the older man knelt beside the unconscious form.

"No ; but he's precious near it. I think his back's broken. Get that gate off its hinges. We'll have to .take him across the stream and out the lower way."

Twenty minutes later John Thompson, junior, who was still unconscious, was, laid on the gate, which was carefully. covered with their coats and , borne by four men towards his home, jiile Bob hastened on to break the Hews and another man who had ' with others appeared on the scene went to tell the doctor he would be wanted at Witton House. . ,',.', Meanwhile the Black King had gone flying back to his stable, and the groom, hearing horse's feet, came out 'expecting to see his young master ; but when he saw the empty saddle, the horse panting and reeking with sweat, he stopped short. "What have you been at, you devil ?" he said as he laid hold of the bridle; and the Black King, which seemed cowed and frightened, stood still. At that moment the coachman appeared. "Mr. John's taken it out of him," he said as he looked at the steaming horse. . The groom turned his head: "More like he's taken it out of Mr. John. The saddle was empty when he came back." '■' Whew !" and the coachman's face became grave. "I suppose I'd better let the master know." "I suppose so. Why, what's the iratter with the brute? He does nothing but shake and tremble," exclaimed the groom. The coachman's face became still graver. "He sees something. God grant Mr. John's not dead !" said the coachman as he went towards, the bouse, where he told the story to the butler ; and he r was going with much fear and, trembling to inform his master that the horse had come home without a rider, when the. lihrary door, opened and he came forward. ~ Giles met him. "If you please, sir, the coachman's been here" Then the butler paused. His master looked at him; and his quick eye observed the old servant's agitation. "Is there anything wrong ?" he asked in his usual tone. ..-;-. "Yes, sir—at least, he's uneasy. Mr. John went out on his new black horse" "Well ?" The tone was quick, authoritative. He couldn't brook the man's mometary hesitation. "The horse has come back, sir, but the saddle's empty." Ah exclamation of horror made: both master and man look round, to see a tall, graceful girl, with sunny brown hair, standing on the staircase. , She had evidently heard what Giles had said, as there was a look of terror in her large , grey eyes, which moved the old servant to say : "Of course, Miss Betty, Mr. John may be coming on behind." At that moment the door-bell rang loudly. ahd ; Giles went to answer it.

Another pcci telle.wtd it, aid something insistent in it made both father and daughter fo.iio-.v him, and the words, spoken ia the gruff voice of a working man, fell on their ears :

"I've brought bad news.' The young master's beto thrown by that black brute he was riding, and either you or me's got to tell Ms father, sharp. They're bringing him on behind." "Come in J" The tone was commanding, and as Bob recognised his master's voice, he stepped into the wide hail, and lifted his cap as he looked Irom him to the girl, whose face expressed grief and horror. "Tell me all you know." The voice was quiet, but it was the calm that covers a volcano. The master of Witton House stood face to face with a tragedy. Bob told all he knew, and as he finished the story the sound of heavy feet bearing a burden was heard. "Throw the door wide open, Giles," said his master ; and as the old butler moved forward he said, "Go into the drawing-roomj Betty." "No, lam going to Johnnie. Do you think I'd keep away from him now ?" she said in an accent of scorn. Then as the bearers stepped forward her father threw the door of the morning-room open, bidding them lay his son on the couch. With infinite gentleness they placed him there ; then as Betty fell on her knees beside her brother they left the room and the housekeeper entered. Going quickly down the hill into the village, they passed the doctor in his gig hastening to Witton House. Near the Market Cross in the centre of the little town a crowd had gathered. The news of the accident has spread like lightning. "Be there any hope ?" asked an old man. Bob Stratton shook his head. "I'm afraid not ; but while there's life there's hope." "The master will take it badly," said a young fellow. "Badly ! He'll think as Providence has made a mistake. John Thompson has had nowt but luck from the time he was born, and he'll kick now," said an old man. "He may have been lucky, but he's been a grand worker, and he's more brains than any chap for fifty miles round," said another man. " Well, isn't it luck to be born with a head like his ? Some folks don't believe in luck, but I do, and John Thompson, as began life in a miner's cottage, and for whom thewhole blooming lot of us work today, has been the luckiest man in England till to-day," said the first speaker.

"Well, he's got a knock-down blow to-day ; and poor Miss Betsy looked heart-broken," said Bob.

An old man of seventy, with hair as white as snow, now spoke: "Poor lass, I'm sorry for her, and the master, too. He's been lucky, but he's deserved it. He went to work in the mine when he was only twelve years old, and he was always in time. He seemed just to love work. A saving lad, too, and when other young chaps spent their money in beer, John Thompson drank water. Then he's a way of putting his money in a thing and selling at a profit, so he gathered a tidy bit together. A day came -when there was talk that the old mine was nigh worked out, and Mr. Scalpet, who was an old man, tried to sell it. But folks fought shy of buying, and at last, anxious to get it oS his hands —the old gentleman took into consideration an offer John Thompson made to pay him a couple of thousand down and to take all the responsibility of worldly it, and give Mr. Scalpet a half share in all it made for twenty years. When he agreed to it I don't think he ever expected to get more than the two thousand, but he tho::g'it he'd give the young fellow his chance. "Lord bless me! I don't think any one was more astonished than old Scalpet when the new master began working from the other side, and he found that it was a richer vein than the old one. Of course, Thompson had known all about it when he made the offer. Elight years after the bargain had been made old Scalpet died, and he left his share in the mine and Witton House to John Thompson, who a year later married Miss Gelder, of Wearside Hall. His next move was to buy the stone quarry. Folks said he paid a good price for it, but it was worth it, and never since he bought the lead mine till to-day has he had any checks." "He's buried his missus," said a man. '"Yes, and a nice lady she was; but he wasn't bound up in her, as he ie in Mr. John," said the old man. Just then a woman eame running down the street. "They've let the blinds down at Witton House," she said as she paused abreast of the group, '"Poor Mr. John ! He was a fine young fellow ;" and as the man spoke they all lifted their caps reverently.

CHAPTER 11. MISS BETTY HAS A WILL OF HER OWN. '-'Sit down, Betty.. I have something of importance to say." Betty sat down and looked at her father. It was not often he sent for her to his soom, which was half office, half library, and as she fastened a hook on the neck of her blouse, that had a trick of coming unfastened/ she vaguely Wondered what the important matter was. ''Your brother's death has left me without an heir," he said, abruptly. "Yes, of course," she said, scarcely knowing how to answer. A of annoyance was visible on the strong, determined face—the face of a man who had carved his way in life, and knew that he was a power in the world. " What seems te you so very na-

tural is a bitter misfortune to me, and" "Surely you don't think I meant to say it was natural for Jolinnic to die as he did—that I don't care about him ? I think it was awful !" she exclaimed, interrupting him in a voice that trembled with emotion. "I was going to say the loss of my son is augmented by the fact that you are a girl." Betty sat up straight and regarded him with amazement. "If you had been a boy there would still have been some one to carry on the name ; but a girl doesn't count." Something in her father's manner, even more than the words, roused the girl, and she exclaimed, shortly : "It's not my fault that I'm a girl, I would fair rather have been a boy." "No, it's not your fault, but it's a misfortune, and leaves me without an heii\"

"You have an heiress," she said, quietly. "Child, do you think I've worked all my life, heaping up money, making myself a power in the district, just for the sake of myself ? I wanted to found a family. I thought John would become a man of mark. I intended him to go into Parliament. He was clever, and I thought it was more than likely that in years to come he would be made a baronet—Sir John Thompson—and generations to come would speak of me as the founder of the family. It has been my ambition, but Fate has been unkind, and I have no son to carry on the name. At first I felt that my ambition was slain, then I remembered my only sister had a son and I resolved I would make him my heir. This sister of mine was considerably younger, and when my father gave up work I allowed him an income. They went to live at Wingate, in Cumberland, the place in which my parents were born. At the age of twenty my sister went to be lady's-maid in London, and after my father's and mother's death when she was about twenty-eight, she married a man named John Smith. I sent her twenty pounds when she was married, and my good wishes, but I didn't attempt to see her. In fact, I didn't wish to know her husband. A year later I heard she had a son born, young John Smith, she said. I didn't answer her letter. I thought it better to let her understand our paths in life were far apart. My son's death, however, made me think of this. nephew as a possible -heir, and t. month ago my lawyer advertised it all the principal papers.for news o: him; with the result that he answer ed, and produced proofs that he wa truly my sister's son ; and to-incr row he is coming here;" "Coming to Witton House ?" sli-. exclaimed.

"Yes ; coming to take his place at my heir." . "'Oh !" Betty had never though that her brother's death would men that she would be a great heiress She had mourned him too much '• think that she might gain by In death. Still, to be told that •• stranger was to be her father's heii —that she was to be passed overroused her indignation, and her ton' betrayed the feeling. "You think you are hardly used but a girl could not take my plac as master of the lead mine an quarry. You will inherit a large fortune, and in a sense you will have all, as I intend you to marry my nephew, then my descendants will in very truth be Thompsons."

"What !" And Betty opened her large grey eyes wide and stared at him.

Her father, looked annoyed. "I spoke plainly," he said, in a stern tone.

"Of course you did. You uauallj du. But it is a little bit of a Bb.O':K to know that you are planning for me to marry a man you know <nothing of. He may be a rough,: un educated boor. He.may even be a thief."

"Don't talk nonsense. He is my sister's son, and he comes from decent people. Coates tells me he is.a gentlemanly, 'well-educated young fellow. And understand I have made up my mind that you shall marry n:y heir, then your sons will follow me." She rose and faced him.

"There's one thing you haven't taken into account—that I've got i will of my own, and I shall . no' marry at your bidding ;" and wit', these words Betty turned and wall; ed quickly to the door, lca T . ing he father considerably dismayed. H' had seen in his daughter's face som cf the determination on which he prided himself. "She's a self-willed girl, but she'l have to marry ner cousin," h' thought. Meanwhile Betty went slowly alon; the hall, filled with indignation tha her father should imagine ho coul dispose of her as he chose, and angr at the prospect of a stranger com ing to occupy her brother's place. "Hulloa, Betty ! I've got my nc car outside. Will you come for r drive ?" said a tall, lanky v-oun;: fellow as he came towards her. (To bo Continued).