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96
THE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE
late, after ten, and the lights were all out, save a dim one from a single lamp in the library.
Archie, with the terrible weapon in his hand, climbed the porch, ape-like, and flattened his face to the pane. Within were two men : Mclnarrie and a gaunt giant of a boy who was pleading with him. Archie's poor brain tried to think where he had seen him before. Then he raised his hand to
never held it against me. ' ' Mclnarrie stared hard at the window, as tho seeing into the night. ''Lang years syne he loved a lass, and I, too, and I won her f rae him. ' '
The face in the dark grimaced with fury, and the arm rose again. Mclnarrie spoke on:
' ' I 'm old and broken now, Wallace, and even the iron will is drooling frae me." His hard eyes wrestled with
PLANNING TO SAVE THE OLD V^EAVER
cast the dynamite thru the glass. Its destruction would be fearful, but he hugged the thought of hurling thru space with Mclnarrie.
Thin, far-off words came out to him, and he listened. He saw queer, glistening jewels in Mclnarrie 's eyes, and his words were beyond comprehension.
' ' Hang it, Wallace, ' * they rumbled, ''ye've been plotting and skirling against the father that begot ye, but ye 're man enough to own it." The voice went on: ''And ye speired Archie's boy killed in the mills and
his son's. "The mills are yours; do wi' them as ye see fit. Marry the besom if ye want to and be "
Mclnarrie 's final words were throttled in Wallace 's huge hug.
"She's a woman, dad — the good, sweet Scotch kind, clean and bonny, like the heather in flower. Together we'll run the mill. And you and Archie shall be pals. ' ' Such is youth.
Wallace fairly sang with the promise of the morrow, and Mclnarrie's face twisted into a smile. Outside the window a white-haired being softly stole away.