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

King Country Chronicle, Volume IV, Issue 262, 25 May 1910, Page 4

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

(All Eights Reserved).

By HEDLEY RICHARDS, Author of "Out of Darkness," " A Day of Reckoning," Etc. PART 2. "No ; I don't want to go out." "Why, what's the matter, .Queen Betty ) You look decidedly cross." "Cross? I feel awful !" she said as she turned into the drawingroom. "What's the trouble ?" he asked, drawing a chair close to hers. "Oh, Jim, father's raked up an he.'r—some one to put in Johnnie's plape !'' she said, with a gasp at the last words. t . . ..'•' .-;■ "An heir! Why, he's got you," said her cousin, in surprise. "I don't count. I'm a girl." "What blooming rot !" said Jim, angrily. "That's what my father thinks, and he's advertising for this man for a whole month, while I thought he was breaking his heart for Johnnie." "His heart won't easily break. But who is this chap ?" "He's a nephew of my father's—his only sister's son—and he's coming here." "I didn't know your father had a sister. Neither did I. She was a lady's-maid in London, and married quite a poor man, so when this boy was born my father let her see he didn't want to have any more to do with her. Funny, wasn't it ? Just fancy poor Johnnie having turned his back on me ! He wouldn't have done it if I'd married a sweep. He'd have bought him grand new brushes, and occasionally have given him a help in sweeping his chimneys, just to show that he didn't think himself any better. Dear Johnnie!" and Betty burst into tears. "Now, don't. You can't bring him back, dear, and—and if he knows, he won't like to think you are making yourself miserable about him." "Won't he ? That's all you know. I think it must be wonderfully comforting—if you can see what goes on here—to know you are missed. The vicar told me it was wrong of me to want Johnnie back —that God had taken him out of love, and he was ever so much happier than we are here. I felt quite wicked as I listened to him. I should like to have put him on that brute Black Kjng, and told him as he rode away that he was taking a »hort cut to eternal happiness." Jim Gelder laughed as he thought of the portly figure of the vicar on the great black horse, kicking and rearing. Then he sighed. The Black King had killed his cousin, whom he had regarded as a brother.

"Do you know what this fellow who is coming is like ? ' be asked. - " Goates says he is, gentlemanly and, well educated, replied Betty, with a siight emphasis on the "gentlemanly."

" God help us ! I suppose he's learned his manners from one of those bejoks on etiquette. I say, Betty, why couldn't you father be contented to leave his money to you ?"

" I'm a girl, and if I marry I change my name, and he wants to found a family. Of course, I'm to have a fortune, but this man is to take my father's place."

"' It's a confounded shame !" exclaimed Jim.

"Of course it is. I don't care about the money, but it's being put on one side for a stranger. I shouldn't have cared if he'd put you in Johnnie's, place. You're a decent sort."

The young man's face clouded as he said :

; "Thank you ; that's not saying very much for me. But your father would never have done it. He wants his name to go down to posterity, and a Gelder couldn't have taken the name of Thompson." "Of course not. You were squires when the Thompsons were just miners. Why, Jim, my grandmother was very likely a servant—perhaps a cook. I've a notion I could make cakes and things of that kind. It must be in the blood."

"I guess she was a good cook, or whatever she was, or she wouldn't have been your grandmother. ftlore backbone, and that sort of thing, than the Gelder grannie that we join at. By the way, she's been seeing again, and, by Jove, it looks as though she was going to be right." "Your father says she always is. She told him two months before Johnnie died that she saw -a funeral procession leave Witton House and wind dowo the hill to the churchyard. But what did she see this time ?" "She told us that two strange men were on their way to Witton House, and they would make history." "Two men ! I.only know of one," said Betty—"and he'U'; be a handful," she added. "You needn't have much to do with him." - "I haven't told you all. It's part of my father's plan that I sttall marry this; John Smith, who is to become John Thompson," "Marry him ? You marry the fellow !" and Jim's voice betrayed infinite disgust. '''.'l said that was my father's scheme ; I didn't say I was going to do it. But there'll be a battle, and it won't be easy to ignore him." "There's one way you could settle the matter. If you were engaged to me, it' would be all up with your father's scheme," he said as he drew his chair nearer and took her hand in his.

Betty pressed the hand that held hers.

"Jim, you're a brick ! I've never known you fail me, and this idea is sublime. As an engaged young woman this other fellow couldn't persecute me quite as much, though, of course, my father will be nasty. Still, it would make this stranger understand I didn't mean to marry him, then when I'd quite convinced my father and him that I was going to regulate my own life, we could drop the farce." "What farce ?" he asked, the surprise that had been visible in his face becoming manifest in his words. "Why, the engagement, of course," she said, a trifle impatiently. "But I was in earnest. I want you to be my wife. It's been my dream for years, but you are young, and I didn't intend speaking just yet." Betty interrupted him indignantly. "'You thought I'd call you a brick for asking me to marry you—that I'd say it was a sublime idea ? ' Oh, Jim, you are a simpleton !" "I don't care what you call me if you'll only premise to be my wife. It is a sublime idea. Betty, don't you care for me ?" he asked, in a pleading tone. "I think you art the best chum on earth ,and I wouldn't have minded being engaged temporarily, just to keep that man out of the way ; but if you are going to be nonsensical, it wouldn't do." "It wouldn't be nonsense. I'm desperately in love with you." "Now, don't talk that way, Jim. Sentiment doesn't go well with sandy hair. We're chums—more like brother and sister —but I could never uhink of you as a lover. I'd rather be an old maid* all my life," she said, with decision. "An old maid ! You'll never be that, Betty. I suppose you mean you'd rather marry" "Mr. John Smith !" the butler announced.

CHAPTER 111. Betty looked round with a startled a r r, and her companion muttered 'Confound it !" as he, too, turned towards the door, where a tall, tread-built man of about thirty stood hesitating ; then he advanced, saying, with a half-humourous air :

4 "l'm a day too soon, and not expected." There was something so genial in his manner that Betty felt impelled to go forward and extend her hand as she said, ";You are" Then she paused. She couldn't make up her mind to say "my cousin." "I am John Smith—and you ?" he asked, looking at her with his honest blue eyes, which had an expression of roguish amusement in them. . " Oh, I'm Betty Thompson—and that's not saying much," she added, as she remembered that this man counted for more in her father's estimation than she did. He smiled.

"I should have thought it was saying a great deal. Well, Miss Betty, have you ever heard of John Smith?"

"Of course I have. My father has been talking to me about you this morning. That was the first time I heard of your existence, though we are cousins." "Yes, it's strange how families get divided—though not so very strange when one member climbs to the top of the tree," he answered ; and there was a twinkle in his eye. "No ; the man on the top is apt to overlook the small birds roosting below," she said. "Just so." Then he glanced at Jim Gelder, and Betty hastened to say : "This is my Cousin Jim —Jim Gelder. My mother was a Gelder." Smith extended, his hand, and Jim took it, not tco heartily. He resented the coming of this stranger, whom her father had decreed Betty was to marry, yet he could not help being influenced by his geniality, and his "Glad to know you" was fairly pleasant. "I wonder if Giles has told my father you are here ? He spends his time principally in the library, which is half an office." " I understand. Your brother's death must have been a terrible blow to him and you ;" and a grave look came into his face as he glanced at Betty's black frock. For a second she resented his alluding to her grief. He was a stranger, and had no right to touch the sore. Then the genuine sympathy in his face disarmed her, and she answered :

"Yes ; it was like the. end of everything." At that moment the door opened, and John Smith turned to see a tall man, with a resolute face, and a massive head crowned with irongrey hair, enter.; Even- his walk was determined —almost aggressive. "You are John Smith," Thompson said as he looked full at him. "Yes. Mr. Coates gave me this as a credential," he answered ; and . again there was, a roguish look in his eyes as he handed the older man his card.

The master of the house read on the card, beneath his name, in the lawyer's well-known handwriting, ''The bearer is your nephew, Mr. John Smith." A look of satisfaction came into Thompson's face, and, extending his hand, he said ;

"You are very welcome to Witton House., You have come to stay John ?"

"That depends how you like me, uncle. By the w»y, I've always been called 'Jack,' " he said as they shook hands.

"I like John. I always called my son John."

'"Then you will prefer calling me Jack, I am sure; and, to tell you the truth, I've been called that since I could toddle, and it would be difficult to answer to any other name." "If you are my heir, you will take my last name, and be John Thompson, of Witton House." "Yes. but 'Jack' to relations and

friends. It's an easier' name—jollier. Don't you think so, Cousin Betty ?" "Yes ;" and she looked half-won-deringly at this new cousin who had no hesitation in opposing her father's wishes. "'Then Jack it shall remain. I'm sure you don't mind," he said, seeing a displeased expression on his uncle's stern face. '"I prefer John, and as you become an older man it will no doubt develop into that. At present we will call you Jack," he answered, coldly. Then he turned to Jim, saying : "I see you've got your new car at the gate."

"Yes ; I wanted Betty to come for a drive, but she wouldn't, and I've been here an interminable time. J say, won't you come and look at th< car ?" he asked, turning to Betty , and the two left the room. "What a horrid beating, whizzin; noise it makes, as if it was human., and detested being kept standing there !" said Betty as they crossed the hall. "It's a beauty—cost eight hundred pounds—and it's very small," he said as they passed through the glass door into the porch. The garden at the front of Witton House was a mere strip of ground running the length of the big, sub-stantially-built mansion, and was divided from the lane by a low wall. From the porch a flight of broad stone steps led on to a gravel path, and from them to the gate was only a few yards. Witton House stood on the top of a hill, and standing in the porch they could see for miles. "I say, that chap is coming in for a good thing,"' said Jim as his eyes rested on the spot where the lead mines were. "'Yes ; I shouldn't dislike him if he wasn't in Johnnie's place," she said. He seems a decent sort," remarked Jim, more inclined to speak well of the other man now that Betty did not seem enthusiastic. "Of course he does. Did you think there was only one decent- man in the world, and that he was Jim Gelder ?" she said, sharply. "Oh, come, Betty, don't be crusty. You know I am not gone on myself, and I don't want to go away thinking you are vexed with me. If you'd promise to consider what I said, and give a fellow a scrap of hope, I should be the happiest man in the world." "Look jhcre, Jim, you'd better put that idea out of your head. I shall never marry you, but I should like us to be good chums as long as we lived," she said as she put her hand on his arm and looked affectionately at him.

"You want me to stand by and see some other fellow win you ! It's too much to ask, Betty."

"Rubbish ! I shall probably be an old maid." "What about the man in the draw-ing-room ?" "He's nothing to me." "Not. now ; but he may be. Anyhow, you're not the sort they make old maids of. You're too pretty. You're almost a beauty, Betty," he said, looking admiringly at her fair face just tinged with colour—the features that would have been perfect if the mouth hadn't been a trifle too large. But there were people who said that Betty's mouth gave character to her faces-a firm, yet a mobile mouth.

"You might have said I was a beauty, and not have qualified it. But, Jim, old chum, you must put the nonsense you've been talking out of your head ;" and as she spoke she ran ligntly down the steps to the gate.

"'lt's a lovely little car. Do get in, Jim. I want to see you go spinning down the hill." "You might have come with mc," he said as he took his seat ; and with a horrible snorting noise the ear started, and Betty watched it until it had disappeared down the hill and round a corner, then she went slowly hack into the house, thinking of the newcomer, and she half laughed as she thought how he had persisted in being called Jack rather than John. ***** *

Dinner was over. It had been a more cheerful meal than any they had sat down to since the day when the heir of the house had been brought home dying, and Betty was feeling that, after all, her cousin's arrival had not been a bad thing. It was a warm night about the middle of June, and as her hand touched the handle of the drawingroom door she turned away, and crossing the hall, passed into the garden through a wide glass door that stood open. Witton House was known for • its old-world garden, that ran along the back of the house and stretched far out, the flower garden opening into a well-cultivat-ed kitchen garden, and beyond that into a pine wood. (To be Continued).