More than Brothers.

Bruce Herald, Volume XXXXIV, Issue 57, 22 June 1908, Page 7

More than Brothers.

ORIGINAL STORY.

(By Christian A. Winter,)

Now First Published. • PART I. CHAPTER I. Whistling gaily, Dick Graham went spinning along the road on his new bicycle. The wind was fresh, even keen, but not boisterous, it fanned his spirits into wild exhilaration, without adding inconvenience or discomfort. It was the proudest day of his life; the day to which he had b«eh looking forWad with impatient eagerness for months; it was his fifteenth birthday, and he was, at last, the proud possessor of a bicycle. As he glided along the road, under the shade of the pine-trees, just where the road curved round the foot of the hill, a boy appeared on the slope, turning the curve on the trackless hillside not many yards above him. The exhilaration of joy and animal spirits that overflowed Dick's heart suddenly changed to the frenzy of hate. The tune died from his lips, and words of sneering contempt sprang to take its place. Laughing mockingly, he flung a taunting insult at the boy who stood on the hill above him.

Crash 1 The bicycle swerved and heeled over, while Dick Graham, with • sharp involuntary cry, fell heavily to the ground, the blood slowly oozing from his forehead. The boy on the hill stood aghast at the damage he had done. A sharp stoae, flung with the forco of passion, flung as an answer to Kelt's taunt, flung unthinkingly, lor who eould think when the anger surged and boiled within, seeking for a rent, demanding a reply to Dick's challenge.' He nad never intended this. He had never hreamed that Diek -would fall. He had not paused to take aim, the inward tompestthat shook him from bead to foot rendered it an imjtossibility. y»t the remilt was the same. The boy who had come spinning along with a joyous tune on his lips and proud exultation in his heart now lay in a a heap on the road, unconscious, perhaps dead. And this was the ending of a school quarrel. Was he dead? The blood was trickling from his temples and his eyes were closed. Was he dead The boy who had thrown the stone was beside him in an incredibly short time. This all-important question ■ must be answered. , . A faint moan, very faint 1 Winding his arms around him, his companion dragged him out af the way of passing vehicles, and deeper into the shade of the pines, laying him down in a quit spot, behind a sheltering screen of scrub. Then he drew a handkerchief from his pocket, to stop the flow of blood, but paused as he caught sight of the name written in the corner. "fto that won't do 1 Yes, it will." and without further hesitation he tore out the betraying corner, using his teeth to get through the hem. ,With every breath now there came a moan from the figure at his feet; at least, Dick Graham was alive and there was great consul ation in that. The boy who had done the michief grew more self-possessed; the first agony of frigbt was over ;he knew the extent of mischief, and felt reassured. He dipped his handkerchief in the creek beside him before ba*daging the wound. "That;ought to bring him round," be said, and looked lor signs of the first retuA to consciousness. . ... , Silence! The low moaning suddenly stopped; there was no longer even the slight rising and falling of his breast, with the faint, fluctuating breath. He lay in an awful silence, and dreadfully, And the frightened boy wfto watched lor his gradual reviving knew that Dick Graham was dead, and that he bad killed him.

CHAPTER 11, Mrs Brandon stood at the window, # and watched and waited for the return of her eldest son. The other children were collected in the kitchen; the younger boy, Walter, at his lessons, while of the three girle, the youngest was crawlimg over the floe*, Annie was setting table, whito Mabel Was playing" tho pia»o and directing her Bister ftt the samt time. "Don't forget the ealt liko foxi generally do, Annie.—One, two, three and four. Well, I'm trare I n«*ei Botaced that 'Andante' before.-You'll find the milk on the sideboardy-Oh, dear, I hate that old wait* I—and mind you don't spill it.-One, two-»ow you've done it 1" , , Mrs Brandon wheeled round suddenly. "How on earthy did you come to manage that, Annie ? And not another drop of milk in the house 1 Mabel, I thought I told jrou to set the table." , "I had to ptactise, I didn't have time before," replied Mabel, pausing neither in her scales nor in her mixedup conversation. "Get out of the way, baby.—Ah, 'The Harmonious Blacksmith.' I'll play that as soon as I've done thes« old scales.—Annie, come and take baby. What did you say? You're setting the table? Haven't you done that yet? What a time you are !—F sharp,—n» f J natural. Haven't got a proper hght here. —Walter, come and lift baby away from my feet-there, I knew you d make her cry I" _ "Go on with your work, Mabel 1 Stop talking 1 exclaimed Mrs Brandon, sharply, while Annie flew to comfort the baby. "I am going on with it," replied Mabel, calmly. "F and Cin the treble—l say, did you notice Stella Brown's new dress, Annie ? Such a lovely violet one. I -believe violet would suit me," tossing back her thick brown hair. "I've never had a violet dress.—Why can't they give these songs names you can understand?— Look out baby doesn't crawl into the fire, Annie !" "Mabel, not another word till you've finished !" exclaimed 'her mother. "I have to count," protested Mabel, "One, two, and—shift the lamp along a bit, Annie—that'a the end of that old thing—And don'il give

me that silly knife you gave m« last night. I'll have that long, sharp ># one.

"Mabel, what did I tell jm ?" "Oh, that's alright, I've nearly done. How. late Em is ! Is he bringing Allison homo to tea ? Mother, Stella Brown said her father said he wondered what Major De Renny was thinking of, to let Allison take up with our Em."

"Stella Brown's father, indeed 1 You ought to know better than go gossiping with Stella Brown, Mabel 1 Our Enrs a finer boy in everything than that young Alison Do Renzy. You couldn't find a finer boy than Ern in New Zealand for strength and such like."

"Mr Brown said he was a bad lot," said Mabel; sho did not for a moment agree with this opinion, but .she brought it forth to hear how her mother would answer it.

"Mabel ! You aro no* io spsak to that Stella Brown again; nor any of those Browns ! Sueh nonsense, indeed ! Major De Renzey's only too flad to have a boy like our Em for is grandson to go with." "What's the argument ?" asked a voice at the door. "It soumde rather heated."

"Only idle gossip, nothiig else, that Mabel got from Stella Brown, when she should have been at hei lessons," replied Mrs Brandon. "I like Stella Brown," muttered Mabel, rebelliously. "Then you ought to b« ashamed to own it. A girl whe says sat'n things about your brother." Mrs Brusdon was so much distuibed thofl she had quite forgotten to weleom* kw husband, after hip day's wo»k. "It wasn't Stella that saii it; she was just telling me what her father said."

"What did her father tay ?" inquired Mr Brandon. :

"That Ern was a bad lot, that he'd land in jail yet, and that he wondered that Major De Renzy let Alnoa associate with him," repeated Mabel. "Such nonsense I" exelainted Mrs Brandon again, all the more vehemently, because she knew the words had some truth in them.

. "There, there, my dear I what does J it matter what people say 1" said her husband. "It can't make any real difference one way or tha other. Bosides that, it's a very natural eonclusion to come to, thft boy soemft to have a talent for getting into trouble. Mr Brown spolfle hastily; he meant no harm by it." "You always think people mran no harm by things." "Isn't that the bt*t way ?" asked Mr Brandon, speaking ealmly, but at the same time sighing deeply. It was an everyday, occurrence to hear his eldest boy spoken of as "a b*d lot." Mrs Brandon sighed also, but did not answer, she heard less of Ern's evildoings than her husband, but she heard quite enough to make h>r very anxious about him, though she stout- , \y denied that these reports Jnd any truth in them.

"It's time the boy was in," obstr-» vtd Mr Brandon, at length. "Time he was in hours ago," exclaimed his wife.

"Perhaps, my deaf, we had bettor have tea without him," kßgrosted Mr Brandon. "The other children are hungry, I daresay, and if he wdl come late like this, there is no reason why they should have to "wait Sor him." "He can't be much longer, and I'm sure I don't feel like having tea just yet—but just as you like—-Oh, there's no milk. Annie spilt it." "We can have tea without for once, can't we ?" "And what about tho children ?" "Give them tea as "What next ? Tea lor •hildren/ indeed I"

"Well, put on your leiap, Walter, and run over and ask Krs Brotrn—"

"I'm not going to get mf milk from those Browns," put In Hrs Brandon.

"W«ll, run here y»u art, Ern I What makes you eo lalte ?" "I've been out with.Al," replied Ern, as he entered tho rot» and sat down at the table.

He was a fine, healthy, well-built lad, bearing a strong rtsomblanee to his mothoß.. His hair bad oneo be« flaxen, but had darkened /fe> n light brown eoloni. It was bruthed straight down over Mb forehnid, and was long enough to reach almost *o his eyebrows. His eye* were el b common, light-browa tint; his eomplexion wag olive; a&d altogethos ho wae a very ordinary-lookfng boy, tjspeeially when seen by. tho lids of hfo ehum, Alison De Boozy. Mr Brown had ot&y relctfl populai feeling when &c hinted fbnt sfc* Brandon would be tho ruia oi Kajot Ite Renzy's grandson. Nobody, however had dared to put it in bo &any words to the Major, knowing fhat he Would promptly put such an action down as mterferente. Alison had never fcad a boy friend before, Ern also, though surrounded by boys, had spent li years of his life without a Teal chum. They had met at school; Alison had admired Em's strength, Era, attracted by his character, installed himself as protector. And Major Do Renzy, pleased with Ern's appearance, applauded his grandson'o ehoice ; not knowing of the character Brn bore* As the boys grew day by day more inseparable, faini rumours about Em's doings, came to the Major'o earo. He had taken a fancy to tho boy, however, and preferred to trust to his first impressions of him, rather than to the gossip of Pinehuxbfc. Outsiders shook their hend*§ over the Major's blindness, and prophesied evil; but the old gentleman dung stubbornly to his first opinions, Brn Branwas a fine young fellow; ho might bo a bit wild, nearly all boyfc were> but he would do Alison no harm. Could he not Bee Alison grow stronger day by day, was not his interest in life greater, was he not an altogether different boy since he had met hii friend ? And was not the change entirely for good ? Era was not so bad as he was represented; his own judgment had never proved false yet. Heedless of the opinions of others, and trusting solely on his own unerring judgment, Major De Benay rejoiced to see the close friendship of the two boys. Now that her eldest boy had come in, Mrs Brandon seemed to forget about the milk that she had thought bo necessary for the cHfcfcen> in ner

haste td get tea for Eta; but Mr Brandon seized the occasion to remark "You shouldn't go fo» sUch long walks after school, Srn. Look at the clock."

Era gave a sudden t start, as though ho had imagined himself alone, and tho sound of a voice surprised him. "Besides, Alison is not a young giant like you are," added Mrs Brandon.

"We didn't go far," said Ern, and then attempted .to hastily correct himself, "At least, I mean—oh, thanks mother. He "reached 'for his cup of tea, but his hand shook so much that he spilled some ol it on the tabl* cloth.

"I hope you hart ioma consideration for Alison, and don't go getting him into troublt. Yon eaa't do whatever you like now, yotf know. If you get into disgrace htt name will suffer too," said Mr Brandon, jumping to a natural •onclusion that Era had been in mischief again, "Why should it?" demanded Ern, defiantly. "It will. It is al iiuvitable consequence." Em helped himseH to another piece of bread.

"You haven't flWshed pmt last piece yet," observed Mabel. "Forgot about that," muttered Ern. "Go on with you* tea, Ern," said Mrs Brandon. "Pass the jam, Annie. You're not getting ott a bit, my boy, a»d you ought to ba hungry after your walk." "Ern, do you happem io know anything about Jackgon'i shad I .It got burnt down the othea night," said Mr Brandon. On wme nighta, and this was one of ihwn, the wrongdoing of his eldeet son rose up before him, and in dtspai* of ever making anything of him, he would start talking, finding fault wMa him, and lceturing him for hours together. As a rule Ern paid no heed to it, but tonight he was not ia his. usual spirits, and could not quite ignors it. "What should I -kaow about it," he muttered.

"I fancy you earn taswer that question better than I e*n," replied his father, significantly. "But, look here, if anything of that kind happens again, I can do nothing whatever for you. I managed to get you of! this time, but I only just managed it—on the condition that yon behaved better in future." "Let the boy have fiis tea in peace," interposed Mrs Brandon. "It's only, when he's eating that 1 get a chance to talk to him," _ replied her husband, pushing away his halfemptied plate, for the night was close and he had no appetite. "I'm quite sick and tired of hearing complaints about him. "When there's anything done its easy to fx on the culprit, and there's never nay mistake about it, either. All Pinehurst looks on him as a nuisance, but I'm sure I don't know what to do with him." "Well, well, finish your tea, and we'll talk it over," interposed Mrs Brandon, but her husband shook his head and went on with his lecture.

"You might pause a minute, Ern, and think of Alison. He doesn't join you in your pranks, and yet nil the time you're ruining his good name. Look here, Ern, you're in such' a position now, that if you've got any good In you, you'll have *o choose betweep two things. Either give up the down-hill road you're taking, or give up your chum. He is bound to suffer with you if you go on as you're going now, and surely you don't intend to drag him down with you." Mr Brandon rather prided himself on his speech; its arguments were unswerable, and would surely appeal to the boy; but, much to his mortification his wife's voice struck in ;—"I forgot that milk, Walter, you'll have to go and get some." "I'll go," said Ern, rising from the table.

"But you haven't finished your tea," objected his mother* "Had all I want, Shanks," said Ern, picking up the billy. "You're not well, o»y b©y, you can't be well. Why, you've eataa nothing at all."

"I'm alright," replied Brn, who had by this time roached tho door, follow-' ed by his anxious methe*. "Foel a bit siek. I daresay rtfe that horribly eloso room. A nun in the freeh air will booh put ae wg^i." He was off into tho j darkness, and his mother turned inoido again, wonderimg if her boy's siekneso was real, or only an excuse foa reaping from his lathe*.

"I hope he'ff tSfck about what I said," observed &c Brandon, in a weary tono whicfi s&owsd how small tie hopes were '3B don't know how it is, but We soem 'So have lost afl our JWhjeM© over Ms*. 1 boliove we let him havo too much hw ovn w : ay when he was younger ; tjfo should have been fnoro strict with hfe than* Nobody has any influence otos hint now, I believe, unless it/a Alison De Renzy." Mrs Brandon -yes uncertain how to take this observation. She knew that Alitfbn, quiet, reserved, and sensitive though he was, to all appoarance JErn's opposite, certainly had a power over the erring lad that' nobody else possessed, but, beiwj ia a contradictory mood she remaned ij&at Brn had done a great doal fe» Alison.; she had heard that the bey in a decline before he met Em.

j "Oh, no doub* Bo ha* dona something for Alison, physically. Nobody 1 denied that," exclaimed Mr Brandon, testily. "1 was only telling him that |he ought to do m©ro, and snvo Ali- • son's character*, and, incidentally, his : own, not from a sense of obligation, ,as yon interpreted it, bnt from true j friendship." "All boys sow f&ei* vilcl oats," re- ! marked Mrs Brandon, falling back on 1 an old but comfortUsfl excuse.

j "Bui not otra i» a nnndraU sows i them so wild as Erft. Yet he can't be altogether basl; an appeal like . that might reach him." i Mrs Brandon had it on n«r tongue | to ask if he wanted to rob Em of his ' only friend, that hj« placed such high ideals of duty befor* him; but she ] refrained, recollecting that Ern was not in the habit of acting without consideration, especially; when it in- ' volved parting with his chum. ( "I have been thinking seriously," I said Mr Brandon, after a few minutes 'of unbroken silence, "That no matter what it may mean to us, I ought to 1 let Major JJe Benzry brow Em s real j charaoter/-'

Mrs Brandon anawored with indig--1 nation, but he took no notice whatjever of her reply. Sinking into a re* i vorie, he seemed to be gazing down [ the years, and to aco what his son's downward path led to. Oblivious of his real surroundings, his whole mind Concentrated on his eldest son, ho looked into the future, and saw the darkness and sorrow it would bring. He saw his boy as he had pictured him before the family, sinking to ruin, overpowering Alison, and dragging him down with him. Suddenly he was aroused by the sound of a strange voice. He looked up. Was he dreaming ? Could ...he have fallen asleep at the table, pondering over Era's career. He had heard no one enter, yet before him stood « constable, enquiring for his eldest doa Were his dreams coming true ? Hark, hia.. wife wa» answering the question that had been put to him, and appealing to him to corroborate her words, "He is aot here. He has just gone out, hasn't le, Dad ?" How strange her voice sounded ? Not at all Mke her owa. Could he be dreaming ? "What do you want him lor ?" he asked, mechanically, and the act of speaking brought with it the dreadful certainty that this could be no dream, that he was face to face with the consequence el Era's evil life The dreaded blow, long anticipated, yet, until now, warded of, had fallen at last. "He has been up to his old tricks again, Mr Brando*. I believe thig is not the first time he has been known to tie a rope across the public road. It is time it was put a stop to." The constable spoke calmly, but added, in a low tone, to Mr Brandom', "Come outeido with me for a mi*ute." "Is that _ all ?" askeii Mr Brandon, following him outside. "He's done it once to often. IVb a silly trick to get up to, anyhow, and can't be always done with safety. I have an order for your son's arrest." "Wan anyone hurt V Mr Brandon's heart seemed to suddenly stand still. "Yes, Mr Brando*, and worse than that." "Worse 1 You dom't mean-" Mr Brandon stopped suddenly, and then enquired, "Why should Ern be suspected. Couldn't any other boy—" "I am afraid there is ao doubt about your son being the culprit," and the policemaa produced a hand* kerchief as he spoke and directed Mr Brandon to strike a match and exami no it. '•* "It was round Young Craham's head," explained the constable. "Ho must have been coining down the road on his bike, and when he came to this rope, he must have been thrown oil right on to his head. You know that lonely road through the pine trees, that's where he was found, just a bit oil the road, and hidden among the trees. Lie had this handkerchief round his head ; its got one corner torn out, you., see. Whoever did the deed, a foolish, boyish trick, I grant you, knew enough to tear his name from his handkerchief before he bandaged young Graham's head, and hid him out of sight. If that corner had been destroyed, or if he had taken it away with him, as he must have intended to do, our clue would have been lost. As it was, he dropped unintentionally near the place where young Graham was found," and then the constable, spreading out the Mood-stained handkerchief,, fitted neatly into the corner Q small square of linen that had only too evidently been torn from it. And the name that that bit of linen bore was the name of — ' " ERNEST BRANDON." (To be Continued.)