But truly historic events get themselves reported even through the densest mediums. I saw the Captain with my own eyes as he wrote: What has become of the officer of the law in Hempfield? A strange young man was seen coming down Main Street yesterday afternoon in a condition which made him a sad example for the lads of Hempfield, many of whom were following him. Is this an orderly and law-abiding town or is it not? I may say in passing that the Captain's inquiry: "What has become of the officer of the law in Hempfield?" was purely rhetorical. The Captain knew perfectly well where Steve Lewis was at that critical moment, for he had looked over the fence of Steve's yard as he passed, and saw that officer of the law, in a large blue apron, helping his wife hang out the week's washing. But how could one put that in the _Star_? Such was the exact wording of that historic item. By some chance it did not meet the eagle eye of Ed Smith until the completely printed paper, still moist from the press, was placed in his hands. Then his eye fell upon it. "Who wrote this item about a strange young man?" he asked. "I think the Captain got it," said Anthy. "Well!" exclaimed Ed, "that must be the very chap I have just hired to help Fergus." He paused a moment, reflectively. "I got him dirt cheap, too," said he. And this was the way in which Norton Carr was plunged into the whirl of life at Hempfield. [Illustration] CHAPTER V NORT I love Norton Carr very much, as he well knows, but if I am to tell a truthful story I may as well admit, first as last, that Nort was never quite sure how it was that he got off, or was put off, at Hempfield. In making this admission, however, I do not for a moment accept all the absurd stories which are afloat regarding Nort's arrival in Hempfield. He says the first thing he remembers clearly was of standing in the street at the top of our common, looking down into Hempfield--one of the finest views in our town. The exact historic spot where he stood was nearly in front of a small shoe shop, the one now kept by Tony, the Italian. If ever the Georgia Johnson Chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution runs out of places upon which to plant stones, tablets, trees, flowers, cannon balls, or drinking fountains, I would respectfully suggest raising a monument in front of Tony's shop with some such inscription as this: Here Stood NORTON CARR On the Morning of His INVOLUNTARY Arrival in Hempfield