6 ACORN "Crawl along behind the rocks by the edge of the cliff, Ellis," he commanded. "Keep your gun busy and attract his attention, but don't give him any chance to pick you off. I'll go through these bushes to the right until I can get behind that rock and get the drop on him." "Tom!" cried Mack, anxiously, "you mustn't do it! Think of the risk!" "It's my duty to take risks, Mr. Mack" answered Tom, quietly. "I'll depend on you to take charge of the boys here, and if anything happens to me care for my loved ones at home." Then with a warm hand clasp he disappeared into the bushes. Ellis on the other side crept along the edge of the cliff, firing at random toward the rock, while Mack and the cowboys stood ready to rush in if anything happened. Tom crawled unhindered through the bushes until he arrived at a point opposite the huge boulder which sheltered the outlaw, and, cautiously parting the bushes, he peered out, but could see no one. Stepping carefully, he rounded the corner of the rock, then suddenly stopped. There, behind a smaller rock, not ten yards in front of him, was the outlaw, entirely safe from the bullets of Ellis and the cowboys, while at the same time he could watch their movements. Tom drew his revolver and stepped forward. Just then the moon broke through the ragged clouds and shone down on the scene. Seemingly aware of another presence, the outlaw turned and Tom caught a close view of his face. A look of horror came over his own, and he drew back with an agonized cry of amazed unbelief, while his gun fell from his nerveless hand, exploding harmlessly on the rocks. The robber, leveling his rifle, sprang from his cover with a savage oath, and the next minute Tom Weston would have been in eternity. But a bullet sent by the unerring aim of Ellis found its mark, not a minute too soon, and the outlaw, throwing up his arms, fell over the cliff a sheer hundred feet to the rocks below. With a dazed look Tom brushed past the men as they came up and, running to the path, climbed hurriedly down the precipice. Wonderingly they followed and found him on his knees beside the body of the dead bandit. As they came up he arose and, with tears streaming from his eyes, said to Mack: "This was he, my brother the apple of his father's eye and the darling of his mother's heart. Oh God! that he should have come to an end like this, and that I should have had a hand in his death. "Yes," answered Mack, slowly. "This was your brother, and he had the same chance as you, and more too, to make a success of himself, but he saw life from a different viewpoint. Come, come, Tom, don't take on so. This is the only logical end that could come to him or to any one who thinks the world owes him a living. He never ACORN 7 played the game square from the start, but tried to gain his own ends, even in his boyhood, by using unfair methods. And you know, Tom. "'Tis Education forms the human mind Just as the Twig is bent the Tree's inclined." S. A. PURRINGTON ("SAGE.") (The End.) Has It Ever Happened to You "Here I am at last, in front of her home her home," he repeated inwardly; "and to think that I am going to see her at her home," he said for the third time, after a long sigh. This was the opportunity Arnold Dudley had been waiting for since he met Miss Daisy Winslow at his sister's party a few weeks previous. At last it had come. Here he was approaching the house where she boarded. He had bought for her a fancy box of sweets her particular kind, he knew, because he had asked a friend. Nervously buttoning up his coat and pushing the box of candy tighter under his arm, Arnold bravely, but with a tremulous heart, walked up the steps onto the porch. He gave the bell button a vicious jab, as though to show it that he was not at all timid certainly nor. "I wonder if she will come to the door; maybe she is not quite ready, and her father or older brother will come; they don't know who I am What shall I say to them?" All of these thoughts flashed through Arnold's mind during the few long seconds he stood before the door, kneading the palms of his hands with his fingers and holding the box of candy tighter with his arm. Suddenly the porch light turned on. "I wonder if my necktie is all right," as he thought of the difficulty he had to make it fit neatly with that collar. "Maybe my hair isn't combed." This train of thought was broken by the sound of footsteps in the hall. They were light staccato steps. Surely that was Miss Daisy. There was no need for the anxiety. When he turned his reflection shone in the window. His tie was elaborate and tied