Kilo | Page 8

time when she was down to Pittsburg, and I reckon New York must be
twice the size of Pittsburg was them days, so it must be twice as wicked.
So we tell you plain, without meanin' no harm, that WE don't know
who you are, nor what you'd do with Susan, once you got her to New
York."
"Oh, I now what you want," said Mrs. Smith; "you want references."

"Them's it," said Mrs. Bell, with great relief.
"Well," said Mrs. Smith, "that is easy. I know EVERYBODY in New
York."
She thought a moment.
"There's Mr. Murray, of MURRAY'S MAGAZINE," she suggested,
mentioning her friend of the great monthly magazine.
"Guess we never heard of that," said Mrs. Bell doubtfully.
"Then do you know the AEON MAGAZINE? I know the editor of
AEON."
The neighbors and Mrs. Bell looked at each other blankly, and shook
their heads.
Mrs. Smith named ALL the magazines. She had contributed stories to
most of them, but not one was known, even by name, to her inquisitors.
One shy old lady asked faintly if she had ever heard of Mr. Tweed. She
thought she had heard of a Mister Tweed of New York, once.
Then, quite suddenly, Mrs. Smith remembered her own brother, the
great Marriott Nolan Tarbro, whose romances sold in editions of
hundreds of thousands, and who was, beyond all doubt, the greatest
living novelist. Kings had been glad to meet him, and newsboys and
gamins ran shouting at his heels when he walked the streets.
"How silly of me," she said. "You must have heard of my brother,
Marriott Nolan Tarbro, you know, who wrote 'The Marquis of
Glenmore' and 'The Train Wreckers'?"
Mrs. Bell coughed apologetically behind her hand.
"I'm not very littery, Mrs. Smith," she said kindly, "but mebby Mrs.
Stein knows of him. Mrs. Stein reads a lot."
Mrs. Stein, whose sole reading was the Bible and such advertising

booklets as came by mail, or as she could pick up on the counter of the
drugstore, when she went to Kilo, moved uneasily. For years she had
had the reputation of being a great reader, and brought face to face with
the sister of an author she feared her reputation was about to fall.
"What say his name was?" she asked.
"Tarbro," said Mrs. Smith, as one would mention Shakespeare or
Napoleon. "Tarbro. Marriott Nolan Tarbro."
"Well," said Mrs. Stein slowly, turning her head on one side and
looking at the spot on the ceiling from which the plaster had fallen, "I
won't say I haven't. And I won't say I have. When a person reads as
much as what I do, she reads so many names they slip out of memory.
Just this minute I don't quite call him to mind. Mighty near, though; I
mind a feller once that peddled notions through here name of Tarbox.
Might you know him?"
"No," said Mrs. Smith, "I haven't the honor."
"I thought mebby you might know him," said Mrs. Stein. "His business
took him 'round considerable, and I thought mebby it might have took
him to New York, and that mebby you might have met him."
Mrs. Bell sighed audibly.
"It's goin' to be an awful trial to Susan if she can't go," she said; "but I
dunno WHAT to say. Seems like I oughtn't to say 'go,' an' yet I can't
abear to say 'stay.'"
"I MUST have Susan," said Mrs. Smith, putting her arm about the girl.
"I know you can trust her with me."
"Clementina," said Mr. Bell suddenly, "why don't you leave it to the
minister? He'd settle it for the best. Why don't you leave it to him?
Hey?"
"Well, bless my stars," said Mrs. Bell, brightening with relief, "I'd

ought to have thought of that long ago. He WOULD know what was
for the best. I'll ask him to-morrow."
To-morrow was the picnic day.
As Mrs. Smith led the way for Eliph' Hewlitt, the minister left the
group of women who had clustered about him, and walked toward her.
"Sister Smith," he said, in his grave, kind way, "Sister Bell tells me you
want to carry off our little Susan. You know we must be wise as
serpents and gentle as doves I deciding, and"--he laid his hand on her
arm--"though I doubt not all will be well, I must think over the matter a
while. Welcome, brother," he added, offering his hand to Eliph'
Hewlitt.
The little book agent shook it warmly.
"'I was a stranger and ye took me in,'" he said glibly. "Fine weather for
a picnic."
His eyes glowed. To meet the minister first of all! This was good,
indeed. Years of experience had taught him to seek the minister first.
To start the round of a small community with the