THE LAST STRAW.

Evening Post, Volume LXXXI, Issue 83, 8 April 1911, Page 10

THE LAST STRAW.

' (By Robert Barr.) [All Rights Reserved.] Young Mrs. Stansfieid (it isn't necessary to- designate her as Sirs. Edward T3ta-nsfield, for there were now no others of the name in the neighbourhood ex-cept-her youthful, easy-going husband), Priscilla StansfieJd stood beside the stane-mullioned window — one of three — and looked southward down the avenue, watching for the postman, who was a iittle ,Jate> that morning. Her hiisbjind h^d just finished a letter -which tlfiT,postruan must take away with him, and- if he mktsed this Government official. Edward would be compelled to bestride his horse and tide five miles ' to the "village of Morfcon-Farwell, for' the letter must be in London by next morning. After iolding the letter he looked lor ! some moments at the cheque he had signed, wondering if on second thoughts the 'banker would refuse it. Never before kad StaaisfieW met .such difficulty in persuading, .the manager of the Mo-r-ton^FarweHrbtanch to aHow him to overdraw, and now,, Shaving received this permission, the young man knew not where to turn for money to sqiiare his battle account within- the time he had promised the manager 1 to shift his i balance from the wrong- side to the ] ■riga't side of, -his. credit, line.' - • ".He's coniihg, T*ed;" said"the giri, turning half- round. .l. l ' r -AH right; I'm ready for ham," replied her husband, as he sealed and stamped the letter. i'Tihe young woman, rang an oldfasliioneo' pull' ft^l (there' wasf' no 1 electricity in the dilapidated -Manor house) aad"- when, the grimy maid-of-all-work responded the letter was handed to "her, and she disappeared to^ meet the postmkH.j. r~^j *- ■_' :: , "_, rEriscilla sat d-SWa beside her hand, and laid her- hand -on- his, that had just relinquished the pen. i"Pisconrag«d,' Edsva-rd?" she asked. ■"Well/'Prtscaia, I am, rather. What an _insstiabl© monster a, mortgage is! Night^and day the insteßeit accumulates, . and .it; do^_,^fieaouafe.'iijt3le_ .periods! of. payment tread on each other's heels." "Ah, but _ now iM&, i& settled,- you turn rctmd in.'* "Fve had to turn round so often, ■Prisraflaj ""tnafc I ''am becoming "gicldy with the process. I can tell you what it is. my girl: I?m a Tank failure." "Nofc as 'Chfoba&dyjtfed;,'"/ ' T x .', I The youngs man. 'permitted nimself #- <lrUl-e wan smile. ? ''fJwJlu^iH^-S.lfiJKt^djtteijß r*o? pro- { vid« ngffiqent. nu>B6y ir fo^ the household, f an<f ■ffisi T "seem * unablte "f o " do. "TOry , , Prkcffla, should any" of itty'" creditors ' pers&te&tfy puess^-a. elaam, even if only j: for a soverign, I shall go smash, and, ' cmdoWy enough, 'I'm haunted by a sort \of som-certainty that the " postman is »brin£png the -claim, putting ,np_on:. my. jback that Trail-hackneyed object, the *lasfc straw." _ '_„,.„•„,-.,„, ... ... ;, '"A'^lettsri fot you/'' sto/' " said the t tfrvsoAj^enterinc;,. and placing the misisiw on." 1 the 'tame,' address' side down. StaaisSeld did not lift ft up. i "ArenJt^on going jrto zead' it?" asked."life wife. ' , • -' . * "vßm" v ßm •afraid,' 1 ' said the young ma.-n, -with a wry grin. '"See.liow thin it is! •-•I'm certain itf«-l&e«la8t ;straw?'m "I don't think so," said Priseilia. irl'-'fhe -last straw woHd be- - a bill; yronMa't it 1 ?" r"Ir "I - suppose. . it_ might take that eitape." "Well, a bill is thicker than thai, envelope, and is usually sent with a halfpenny stamp. This commonication ie sealed." "You're optimistic, Priscilla. Bearing, a half-penny stamp it would merely say 'A cheque would oblige,' but a sealed letter from a creditor is ominous. This ' man has not sent a' bill. He simply Jnforms me that as his previous iretjuests for a settlement hav-^been ignored, lie is most reluctantly obliged 'to taie v pr O ; ceedings for the- recovery--of six- pounds three and "tenpence," and - signs himeelf 'Yours and so forth,' instead of 'Youra obediently,' or ' Yours respectfully.' " " I'll bear half the straw !" cried Priscilla. "Let's take the plunge," and before he could prevent her, she turned the letter face upwards. • "Tracts, by Jingo!"" exclaimed Edward. "Both wrong. A Canadian 6tamp, as I live." " I'm not wrong. T said from .the first it wasn't the straw," insisted Pxiscilla. "Courage, dear boy, and open it."" " Let us enjoy a respite while we-may. That handwriting is unknown to ; me. It lias a decidedly foreign, look, and ' the person who wxote.it never., went toschool in England. I judge' him" to" be an unlettered man, probably a western farmer." ' . "Go on 'with your surmises," said Prkcilla. '' "I'm a pratical person, and always prefer certainty to doubt." With that ahe took 'upVpbnkhife tying on the table, slit opeij the envelope, a-nd drew forth the letter ; four closely written pages on very thin paper. The hugs hand of her husband cams down flat upon xhe missive, preventing her from reading it.' With his other hand he picked up the envelope, and scrutinised it. ''An ignorant man, I should say, for he has placed a 5 cent stamp on this letter, apparently not knowing that penny postage has been inaugurated between Canada and England. ' You're very tantalising, Ned. Either read it yourself,, or allow me to read it." With a harassed laugh the ij'oung- man withdrew his hand. "You lead it, my dear, for my "nerves are rather-unstrung. Better peruse it in silence, and then break the news to me gently." He leaned back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head^ and closed his ©yea. _ ."•-•' " Flello ! He begins with an insult I" exclaimed Priscilla, in tones of indignation tinged with dismay. •" Have you any relatives! in Cana-da. " , Edward opened his eyes. " Not that I Jcnow of, tfQfit seems to me I heard^fliy f#fcher^»ay-*f-I think'Ji© got an inroeptiEerit:- %ihter" -Wha^doee'ii Bay, Priscilla':'' '"Sir, — -I^suppose there is a. fraudulent j Stansfieid &{ St&ELsfiel3-Morton"as' there j has been any time this last twenty or thirty years. All right, says I. You people have had a good long innings, and it's time you should, turn out, for I am ' . tfye rightful. Edward^ Startsfield, andyou j -know- it? **WEenever I think of you I fet mad clear through. Often when 1 B _ave*to jleep by the side of the "road": -or- undei" a- haystack, or in the woods, j and JLthink of my snobbish. English rela- 1 lives' tolling in the la_p_ of Juxury, with j money -to burn 5 .and aliianor house equal ! toZStpifcbrrCaffiz, full J^ servants a.Md - ! titinkiesr^and htckies, and^hose sort of aaMnals-.?" . .«V —» _,»-^. < «,„ SDGooU lord ETgroaMt ¥£$$£$*: Xt\ HZ .• „• ' Wn yi' %^jjen J3jt- up and swear till airs^bluew^- "IZ£~ ■ J-. . ," ' ZOi course ySu k!^aU^oq£3E3tod; ec£js. isn|tj;foi'^vour"*oforma.tioivjbufe"^oi ' the-legal-npurposes thai- 1 vS-ite '32wn particular!. M^CgrandfatHgf, whoaegms tq" > have*JJ6en <i a good^ deaVof*-a-»fool5-like tb'eSiT&jority-^f , £sariafiiily,T^;o£" mad' ~<A hitMXh&r%<4lrM2hm: Jfidward fields?' 1 jind the» Taneh, coming; over^nere {o"so^hard 'pioneer work."' The t&M\mm%&'&im'Z&frh&:ss flian to. ilvvfvoEifor money alfe'r he cooled, down, but none was sent him. -'I'hat -puthie back up : , so he saw -a. lawyer about It) "and the lawyer paid he cculd have the estate any time he wont to claim it. My CTandfather didn't waut_.to w go, back just

then, so the lawyer told him he could keep the claim aKve by writing for money every now and then, stating these facie. He did that, and my father did that, and now I do it, only I differ from , the rest of them ; I'm going right across , there now to take possession, and don't you forget it. And so that you may know you've got • a tough nut to deal with, 1 state right here that I'm a tramp, and have been all my life. I always tell folks that ask me why I live the life I dot-hat 1 guess there must be 'something of the English gentleman about me, because I always did hate work, and' never would do it, and now I'd rather sleep out of doors than in. "But, nevertheless, right is right, and that property is mine, so you may expect me when you see me, and 1 give you fair notice I'm going to jump your claim. I shall land in Liverpool from a tramp steamer, which is th,e kind of boat wiiich suits my way of life, and then I'll hoof it from the port to Stansfieid- Morton. "¥our .affectionate forty-second cousin, "Edward Stansfieid. " (The genuine article)." Edward, Stansfieid the imitation, if this letter were true, was now wide awake, and sitting straight enough. "Priscilla," he said, "this isn't' the last straw. It's a whole straw stack, weighing twenty tons. By Jove," he added, laughing, "I'll dismiss my hundred flunkies, and let the last- straw have the place, mortgage and allr He'll be the fellow lying awake then, won-dering-how he's to raise the money for the interest!" "Oh, Edward, don't la-ugn," pleaded the girl, her face pale. "Is there tiny truth in this awful letter?" "I rather think there is, my dear, but don't ,you see it doesit't matter in the least? It's more than likely thai, the claim 'is outlawed lon§ ago, 1 but it would just serve the impertinent' chap right if I dumped on his shoulders all .that's left,, of the Manor. The lap of ■luxury-!* Windsor- Castle, indeed, when £he bid" roof won't k-eep out the weather much, longer I" A week later the last straw put in an appearance. They watched him coming up the avenue, slouching, with a hangdog look; pausing every now and then as if making 'a mental estimate at out the value of the - property. He v.ac not exactly in rags, but his rough (fofch-7ing-looked "as it it ongfatr to be'tatterad.' 1 Edward and his wife stood back from the window, so that they could not be seen from outside. "I say, Priscilla," remarked the young man, "I'm going out to greet my relative." ' dear, oh 'dear," she sighed, "he'll 'be here soon, enough !" ' "Not at the rate he's comjng^on. J)o you. know, dear, I feel" sorry for him. There's not a soul in all England that he knows, and in spite of his slouch there is something Stansfieldian about 'him." The young wife covered her face with open hands, as, if to shut out the horrid 'vision, and she shuddered as Edward left her. "Good day to you !" he cried, going .dowiif-Qie.ayeniie. The tramp had boen standing still since the _ door opened. "Is this my long-lost relative?"' "It's the genuine article," said the last straw, with an accent on the"vine." • "vine." "I - suppose you're the imitation.'?" The Englishman laughed', and held 6ut his hand, which the other took some"what reluctantly. -"I understand," continued the English Stansfieid, "we're tofight that out in the law courts." "Just as you say," replied the tramp, indifferently. "I'm as independent as a hog on ice; go or stay, that'-s me." "I should say. off-hand that a hog on ice is rather helpless," commented Stansfieid, but the other went on : "And '• now say, Mr. Imitation, I ' don't want to intrude, and if you'd just as- lief I' wouldn't come into the house, say so." * | "Why, I've come out, to drag you in. Do you think we're- going to let you escape? Wee not so simple here in Old England as you imagine.' Behold Windsor Castle}" He waved his hand toward the house. "The flunkies are all concealed, and the lackeys under coverf but the moment we get you in, and the door shut, down you go through a trap door into a dungeon cell. That's the welcome the rightful heir always gets when he comes home, and we do this sort of thing every day in. England." The tramp giinned. He appeared to' have a sense of humour. . "All right. Bring on your dungeon. I guees I have slept in worst places, and I suppose you feed your prisoners?" "Il'cs ; your bread and water will be laid out in the dining-room ac coon: as jtou can come in." "Good enough," replied the tramp. "I hope there's plenty of bread, for I'm hungry." So this is the Manor House, is it? It seeme a little out of repair." "Yes," eaiii Stanefield. "We're gradually letting it go to ruin so that we may make money., by charging excursionists sixpence each lor being shown over the place." "Well, you don't get any sixpence from me.*' "I didn't expect one : besides, we havsn't begun the caretaking trade yet, telling the history of the houee in, expectation of a tip." "Has it got a hk-tory? Do any ghoste wander round it?" "Only myself and my wife, accompanied by the ghost of prosperity. There is a sort of legend that the prosperity of Stansfield-Mortun would depart this life if ever the rightful heir abandoned the estate and that seems to be true, for there was plenty of money in your grandfather's time and before that, but since his departure we younger members of the family have managed very badly. The estate has been gradually eaten up with mortgages, and we've lo6t bit by bit, until only part of the Home Farm remains, and considering the .price of agricultural land nowadays, 1 doubt if a sale would produce the money lent i>n it." 'Humph!" growled the tramp. "That doesn't eeem very encouraging to the rightful heir.," . « Z "I'm, sorry," , eaid Stanefield, "if you aie disappointed. Had you given me. time, and an address in Canada, I should have written to you, and revealed our real oituation." "Oh, would you?" sneered the mendicant. "I very much doubt it. Your branch of the family never answered the letters sent by the elder line, so if you had written, it's not likely I'd hav<e believed you. Sure there's no gold hid--den in -one of the dungeons?" ' < Edward Stansfieid laughed," -"You're quite welcome to search, and if'you find any, I hope you'll give me a share -of it." ' Sy this tim-a they had reached the diningrcom, and ■ Priscilla^ watching their gazed upon-- her kinsman by "with^sometiun'g like fe^r and 'Jrepideion."" He. was a very rough-looking ■'customer, unkempt and' rather haggard, •seemingly, between forty-five and fifty 7yeares>f ># age. /His shaggy locks tinged showed no acquaintance with "either scissors, "or comb, and his hard, deeply -lined fa£e was burnt to^a deep brown by- the action of- an ardent sun and- exposure to all kinds of weather. v »"My dear/',Gaid her husband, "this .is our kinsman a-nd my namesake, Edward' Stansfieid of Canada'^ cay. "she was pleased to see him, but extending a half -reluctant hand, she gave him what greeting she could call to her lips. He seemed abashed and awkward in her presence, and his volubility of a short i i time before sank into silence.. His. em-

barrassment, however, did not interfere with his appetite, and he evidently relished the meal prepared for him. "Did you walk all the way from Liverpool?" asked Priscilla. "Yes, ma'am every step," he replied. "England doesn't seem to be a veiy friendly country," he went on. If I'd been tramping in Canada, and a man drove past, he'd be sure to offer me a Tide, but nobody did that over here." This was the beginning of a very unhappy month for Priscilla. She did not know what , to do with the last straw, as she and her husband invariably termed their visitor when they were I alone. He proved a mcist embarrassing guest, paying no attention to household rules. He despised the best bedroom, preferring to sleep out of doors, or perhaps in one .of the farm buildings. He tramped all over the place, and would sometimes disappear for days together without giving any notice. H-e pretended to be anxious about "correspondence from Canada, and when day after day they told him no letter had arrived, he did not conceal a suspicion that they might have intercepted it. Priscilla"s dislike of him grew as time went on, but this dislike her husband did not sliare. The man interested him. and he related to his wife a conversation they had hadi each reproaching the other for his method of life. "Why," the tramp had said, "you're the most inane,, helpless individual I ever saw. Here you are with a farm of your own in the very centre of the world's best markets, yet you aren't able to grow enough, to keep yourself alive, let alone pay your debts. You allow farmers from the backwoods of Canada to beat you in market right at your, doors. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, a young man like you. Stansfieid had laughed. "I like that," he replied, "coming from a tramp. What on earth, is more shiftless than an individual who begs his way from door to door? Good gracious; if I'm useless, you're worse, for you live on the provender earned by others. * You don't seem to care for any useful work. Why haven't you a farm of your own in Canada, ijf you can beat us English farmers so easily ?" The man had shrugged his shoulders. "I couldn't content myself," he said, "settling down in any on^ place. I've simply got, to be tramping the country. I've always done it, and I suppose always shal' until I die, and then," he said with a harsh laugh, "they'll find I've left everything to you, for I haven't airy other relative that I know of, and I rather like you, though you're no good." "Why, doesn't he dispossess us if he's going to," cried the exasperated wife. ."He says nothing but insulting things, and yet Tie stops on and b,n. It's' like the a 'swo'rd' of Damocles hanging over us." "I rather imagine," mused her husband, "that my offer to turn the place over to him without any legal compulsion has mollified his rancour, and after all, there's a certain shrewdness about the man. He sees quite plainly that instead of acquiring an asset, he is taking over a liability. I think" he'll leave us before very long, and I confess that I shall miss him." "Well, I, shan't," replied Mrs. Stansfieid. One morning the last straw became in reality the last straw so far as Priscilla was concerned. The tramp had come down early, and the morning's mail being on the dining-table, he had actually opened a letter which, though addressed to Edward Stansfieid, he must have known was not intended for him. He did not await breakfast, but went off no one knew where. Priseilla found the opened letter, and her indignation was tinged with dismay when she discovered written on it, in • the tramp's uneducated handwriting : "Opened in mistake, by the Last Straw.*' '_ The terrible man had learned in some manner their nickname for him, and perhaps he took this way of showing his resentment. Her. husband laughed when he read the message, but his merriment ceased as he read' the curt note within the violated envelope. "Sir," wrote the banker : "If the £43 7s 6d which you borrowed a t month ago is not paid within three days, I shall reluctantly be compelled to take proceedings lor its recovery." "Oh, lord !" exclaimed Edward, "the sword of Damocles has fallen, and it isn't the Last Straw that, has cut the thread." Absent-mindedly he tore open the remaining letters, and from one of them fell out a document which he scrutinised with 'wide-open eyes. It was a draft on the Canadian Bank of Commerce, No. 2. Lombard-street, London, E.C., for £6342 14s l'Od. "Great heavens!" he cried, turning to the covering letter. "Dear IVIr. Stansfieid," it said' : — - "I enclose current dividend from your Bobalt mine. You will see that it' amounts to more than the thirty thousand dollars you anticipated, but your estimate was pretty nearly correct. I enclose as ordered a draft on the Bank of' Commerce to your order for six thousand three hundred and forty-two pounds fourteen shillings and tenpence. ' ' i ours most ' sincerely , Alexander S. M'Leod." Stansfieid glanced at the envelope. It bore a Canadian stamp and a Toronto postmark. "By jove !" he cried, "here's the Last Straw's' long expected communication, and T have opened it. So you see, it's six of one and half a dozen of the other. The Last Straw is evidently a rich man. I wonder if he'll help me with my banker ?" That night they waited dinner half an hour for the Last Straw, but the tramp did not enter until 'the meal washalf finished. "I'm as hungry as a bear," he said, sitting down in his usual place. "Say I opened a letter of yours this morning, and what's more, I reat l it. Seems to me, my, friend, you're up against it. That banker of yours isn't going to wait." "I'm not up against it," said Stansfield. "You've got the cash, then?" "I haven't got the cash, but something jusfc as satisfactory. One good turn deserves another, you know. You opened my' letter from a bank, and I've opened your letter from a bank. You found that I was short about fifty pound*, and I find you're in funds to the extent of nearly six thousand five hundred pounds, so I'll either borrow the fifty pounds from you, or charge you fifty pounds for transferring this- estate to you without any law-suit, whichever you like," and Stansfieid, from the end of the taible, tossed over the letter from Canada. The tramp looked at his draft, and muttered : "Six thousand • three hundred and \ forty- two pounds, fourteen, shillings and tenpence. I say, Farmer,' he cried, looking up, "how much is that in real money ? Why the deuce don't you adopt decimal currency in this benighted country? What is this in real dollars?" ""In round numbers, about thirty-one thousand, seven hundred." "And you've had this draft in your possession all day?" "Since breakfast time; yes." "And the bank manager a-threatening of you? Why didn't you take it and cat-h. it in?" "For the simple reason it wasn't mine." "But it's made oub in your name, don't you see? Well, Ned, you're apretty * honest fellow. You know, I couldn't have resisted the tfjgy? ta-tion. to

go to that bank manager, plank the draft down on his counter and say, 'Put this- to my credit, and don't, trouble me for trivialities like fifty pounds. 1 "I'm going back to Canada to-mor-row. This country's too damp to sleep out-doors, and besides, its too civilised and cultivated. If a man lies down behind a hedge he's sure to be disturbed by a policeman. I'd as soon think of sleeping out in Yonge-street, Toronto. I've slept in the woods and in shanties and in camps for the last thirty yeais. always prospecting for minerals, .and I've got some of the best mines there is. I'm , a tramp in spirit, all right enough, yet I've an income of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year that's of no particular use to me, for Fve no family to inherit. Always was a bachelor ; always will be. "Now, you take this draft and put it in your bank, and tell that manager not to write to one of our family in tlie discourteous way he did that letter I opened." \ "That's merely business form, cousin." "Oh, I know all about business forms. You'll see his business form change to abjeciness when this sLs thousand tumbles into your balance. Now, after I'm gone, you find out quietiy what it will cost to buy the Stansfield-McTton. estate as it was in my ■grandfather's- time, and I'll send over the money to do it. I don't believe I'll ever come back k>. this slow old country, but there* no saying what crazy thing a man may do when he begins to get on in years. Anyhow, the representative of the elder branch of the family will be partner with a representative of the younger branch, and we'll see if that doesn't bring back the Stansfieid luck you were speaking about."