149 
THE LADIES' FLOBAL CABINET. 
But on tins occasion a new fancy had taken possession 
of him—he was on business for the King. What Ki 
or what was the particular business he did not precisefv 
know, but he had derived his idea from various sermons 
he had heal'd at the village church and Sunday-school 
which he attended with scrupulous punctuality through 
all weathers, and although he understood but little of 
the proceedings, yet chance sentences had fastened 
themselves on his sluggish brain. 
“ I’m on business for the King,” he muttered, reach¬ 
ing up his great strong hand and wrenching a huge over¬ 
hanging branch from its place and speedily converting 
it into a walking stick. “Yes, I’m on business for the 
King, the King of all around here, the birds, the trees,' 
the flowers and the bumble-bees. He sent me, He did!' 
Parson said so t’other Sunday. He said the King sent 
out his messengers to do his work. He sent out twelve 
on ’em once’t, an’ they wasn’t to take no money in their 
purse nor nothin’ to eat. Guess He sent me, ’cause I 
hain’t got no money an’ liain’t had nothin’ to eat all 
day.” 
He strode onward, murmuring his thoughts as he 
went, until after a time he came upon a public road 
which ran through the wood. A placard fastened to a 
tree by the roadside attracted liis attention, and he 
paused to consider it. He could not read, but as his 
eyes were fixed upon the printed characters the tinkle 
of a cow-bell was heard down the road, and presently a 
cow came into view, followed by the short, sturdy figure 
and round, freckled face of Tommy Brock. Tommy 
was flourishing a large stick and shouting at the cow in 
his efforts to keep her in a proper homeward direction. 
As he came up he exclaimed : 
“ Hello, Nat! What are you doin’ here?” 
“ I’m on business for the King,” replied Nat with 
dignity. 
“ On business for—who?” asked Tommy in surprise. 
“ For the King. He sent me,” said Nat again. 
“ That’s his orders there, I take it,” pointing to the 
placard. “ What is it, Tommy?” 
“That? Why that’s only an advertisement,” an¬ 
swered Tommy, his eyes opening wider in his astonish¬ 
ment. “ It says, ‘ Go to Tracey’s Half-Way House for a 
square meal.’” 
“ Yes, I know’d it! I kno w’d it! ” exclaimed Nat ex- 
ultingly. “The King said take no money nor nothin’ 
to eat, an’ He’d take keer of me. He says • Go,’ an 
I’ll obey orders,” and instantly his tall figure was mov¬ 
ing swiftly down the road. 
Tommy gazed after liim a minute in bewildered si¬ 
lence, and then exclaimed emphatically as he turned 
away: ' 
“ My ! but ain’t he cracked ! ” • 
With rapid steps Nat hurried forward, swinging Ins 
huge stick and talking to himself. He had taken the 
placard as a veritable command to go to Tracey s, an 
thitherward he directed his steps. It was not the first 
tune he had been there. On previous occasions when 
he had passed that way he had been kindly treate y 
Mrs. Tracey, and perhaps that had something to o 
with the alacrity of his movement, and he hastened 
down the road till it brought him to a small stream, on 
the bank of which stood a saw-mill. Mr. Tracey, ie 
owner of the Half-Way House, was engaged at wor 
here, and he turned aside to speak to him. 
“ I’m on business for the King, and Im goin o yo 
house,” he announced with the dignified gravity that 
belonged to his royal commission. 
“ On business for the King, and goin’ to my house, 
eh?” answered the person addressed, a good-natured 
smile crossing his kindly face. “ Well, I reckon that's 
a high honor to me. You’ve got a tramp afore you, 
though, Nat—a good seven miles.” 
“ I must obey orders,” replied Nat simply. 
“ That’s right—obey orders. Well, if you do go, tell 
Mrs. Tracey I’ll be home to-morrow night. Tell her, 
too, not to be uneasy about that money bein’ in the 
house, ’cause I’ll see to it when I come.” 
“What money’s that?” asked a fellow workman as 
Nat turned away. 
“ My pension. My claim was allowed last week, and 
I got the money—five hundred dollars—yesterday. I 
was foolish not to put it in the bank right off, but I 
didn’t, and as I didn’t have time to go to town yester¬ 
day I had to leave it at home. I reckon it’s safe enough, 
though, till to-morrow night, and then ”— 
“Hist!” interrupted his companion suddenly. 
“What’s that?” 
Tracey paused to listen. 
“I didn’t hear anything,” he said. 
“I thought I heerd some one over there,” pursued 
the other, pointing to a large, high pile of boards a few 
feet distant—the boards being piled in form of a square 
with a large cavity in the center. “ Most likely it was 
rats, though.” 
“ More likely to be rats than anything else, there’s so 
many about here,” answered Tracey. Then he added 
jocularly: “Maybe, though, it’s them burglars that’s 
been playin’ mischief ’round these parts for the last 
week or so—maybe they’re stowed away in that pile of 
lumber. My! if I really believed that I’d be uneasy 
myself, for the chaps would have heard all I said about 
my pension.” 
“What burglars is that?” inquired the other. 
“What burglars? Why, man, don’t you read the 
papers? Why, only yesterday the sheriff and liis depu¬ 
ties rode by my house on the hunt for ’em. Last Sat¬ 
urday night they broke into Lawyer Burke’s house, in 
the village, and carried off about a hundred dollars, and 
then on Sunday night they got into the railroad station, 
broke open the safe, and made off with about three hun¬ 
dred more. That’s the biggest of their hauls, though 
they’ve entered several other places.” 
The conversation was continued on this topic for a 
few minutes, and then dropped. Neither of the men 
thought it worth while to investigate the cause of the 
noise, and they pursued then 1 work for a short time and 
were then called over to the other side of the mill. Just 
as they disappeared a face peered over the top of the 
board-pile from the inside, another followed a moment 
later, and presently two rough, villianous-looking men 
came into view, and seeing they were unobserved, sprang 
quickly to the ground and hastened into the forest. 
“dose shave that, as bein’ as we was hid there all 
last night and all day till now,” said one as he pushed 
through the underbrush. 
“Yes; I thought as once them null chaps was a 
cornin’ to look.” responded the other. “ Good for ’em 
as they didn’t, an’ took us for rats; ’cause the p’hce be 
on the look-out now an’ we don’t want to use no shootrn 
irons an’ make things too hot. We must move out 
lively from ’ere, Bill.” . 
“ Not till we get that ’ere pension,” answered Bill 
significantly. “ That lay-out were as good as pitched at 
