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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #51919 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51919)
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rancho Del Muerto, by Charles King and Various
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-
-
-Title: Rancho Del Muerto
-       and Other Stories of Adventure from “Outing” by Various Authors
-
-Author: Charles King
-        Various
-
-Release Date: May 1, 2016 [EBook #51919]
-Last Updated: March 15, 2018
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RANCHO DEL MUERTO ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by David Widger from page images generously
-provided by the Internet Archive
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-RANCHO DEL MUERTO
-
-By Charles King, Capt. U. S. Army.
-
-And Other Stories of Adventure by Various Authors
-
-From “Outing” (Illustrated)
-
-The Outing Publishing Company,
-
-New York And London
-
-
-[Illustration: 0001]
-
-
-[Illustration: 0007]
-
-
-
-
-RANCHO DEL MUERTO, By Charles King, Capt. U. S. Army.
-
-
-FIRST PART
-
-[Illustration: 9013]
-
-O denying it--there was something uncanny about the place at the very
-first glance. The paymaster admitted that to himself as his ambulance
-slowly drove in, and his escort of half a dozen troopers came clattering
-after. It was his first visit to the spot, and he shrugged his broad
-shoulders and murmured a word of caution to the silent clerk who sat
-beside him:
-
-[Illustration: 0015]
-
-[Illustration: 0016]
-
-“I want you to keep eyes and ears open here, Staines. We've got to make
-a night of it. You remember that this is where Sergeant Dinsmore was
-murdered, and I've heard nothing but bad accounts of the people for the
-last six months.”
-
-Mr. Staines was apparently a man who wasted no words. Acquiescence with
-him may have been expressed by silence. At all events he made no reply.
-
-“Were you ever at the ranch before, when you made the trips with Colonel
-Forte?” asked the paymaster.
-
-“No, sir, it's--all strange to me hereabouts.”
-
-“How far are we from Canyon del Muerto now, sergeant?” asked the
-officer of the bearded trooper who rode close alongside.
-
-“Sixteen miles, sir, on a bee line, but at least twenty by the road.
-We're off the direct trail now. We could have got through the canyon and
-reached the camp before this if that mule hadn't gone lame.”
-
-“Major,” said Staines in a low tone, “I can get a saddle horse or mule
-here, no doubt. Had I not better ride right on? I can reach Captain
-Rawlins' camp by 9 or 10 o'clock. He will be mighty anxious at your
-non-arrival.”
-
-“I was thinking of sending one man ahead; I don't like to let you go. It
-will wear you out for to-morrow's work.”
-
-“Indeed it won't, sir; I'm feeling fresh enough, and the change from
-wagon to saddle will just suit me. I think I'd better go.” And there was
-an eager look in Staines' clear-cut face.
-
-“I'll think about it” was the dubious answer. “These cavalry men are the
-proper ones to send, not a paymaster's clerk. If anything befell you on
-the route I would be crippled in making payments.”
-
-“Nothing would be apt to befall me, sir; I know that road well.”
-
-“I thought you said all was strange to you hereabouts” said the
-paymaster quickly. But the clerk showed no discomfiture.
-
-“I said here, around the ranch. The direct road lies off there nearly
-nine miles to the southwest, sir. That is the one we always took going
-to Tucson.”
-
-The paymaster relapsed into silence. It is all very well to have
-subordinates who know far more than does the senior officer, yet the
-latter does not always find it agreeable. His own clerk having resigned
-some six months previous and returned to the East, when Major Sherrick
-was ordered from San Francisco to Arizona he had employed Mr. Staines at
-the urgent request of the officer whom he relieved. Staines had property
-interests in the Territory, he was told, and wanted to remain. He was a
-man profoundly versed in his duties; accurate, temperate, reliable and
-of unimpeachable character, said his recommenders. Sherrick was glad
-to get him, for he himself had no head for figures, and had been made a
-paymaster from civil life simply because his uncle the Senator found him
-a failure in every other capacity, and demanded the appointment of an
-Executive who could not deny him, though he felt like kicking himself
-when he looked at the long list of grizzled, war-tried captains who were
-wistful applicants for the longed-for promotion.
-
-A tall Mexican stepped forward with much urbanity and grace of manner to
-assist the paymaster to alight as the ambulance stopped in front of the
-ranch, and Major Sherrick looked with emotions of surprise upon Pedro
-Ruiz, the proprietor.
-
-“You don't mean to say that's the scoundrel we heard so much bad
-talk about at headquarters?” he whispered to Staines at the first
-opportunity.
-
-“The very same, sir; the most accomplished cutthroat in Arizona, if we
-can believe our senses and disregard evidence.”
-
-“Where are his men? He seems alone here, all but that old greaser
-yonder.”
-
-“Dios sabe,” answered the clerk briefly, though his eyes glanced quickly
-away toward the purpling range to the south. “But we shall need our
-guards every moment we are here, sir, that's certain.” An hour later
-night had settled down upon the broad valley, black and forbidding. All
-day long the wind had been sighing about the corral, whirling clouds of
-dust from the loose, sandy soil and sifting it in through many a chink
-and crevice over the floor of Pedro's ranch. The great ranges to the
-northwest, the Sierras to the south, were whitecapped at their lofty
-summits, but all over the arid miles of surrounding desert the sun had
-been hotly blazing from noon to the dewless eve, and not until it sank
-behind the western wave did the wind sweep down untempered. Through its
-shallow bed the Gila rolled, a lazy, turbid current, not a rifle shot
-away. Quicksands and muddy pools flanked its course for miles and barred
-all attempts at crossing except at the point where thrifty Pedro had
-“corduroyed” the flats with boards that had formerly done duty at the
-agency building, and, having originally cost the paternal Government
-something in the neighborhood of $1 apiece, had now come down to the
-base uses of daily trampling under foot. The stage to the Gripsack
-Mines, the huge ox teams and triple-hitched wagons, the nimble pack
-mules, even the buckboard with the United States mail, paid reluctant
-tribute into Pedro's dingy palm, though the owners mentally damned him
-for a thief.
-
-Everybody in that part of Arizona well knew that in the unprecedented
-rise of the Gila, a few years back, two of the agency storehouses had
-been floated away down the stream, accompanied by a dense flotilla of
-joists, scantling and clapboards, which had been piled up on the river
-bank after weeks of laborious transportation from Plummer's saw mill in
-the San Gabriel. So, too, had sundry casks of bacon, barrels of beans
-and bales of Indian goods; and while portions of this flood-swept
-assortment were found stranded and scattered along the winding shores
-as far down as Pedro's bailiwick, not so much as a solitary shingle had
-passed beyond, and the laws of flotsam and jetsam had received at the
-hands of this shrewd “greaser” their most liberal construction. More
-than once had the Federal authorities been compelled to proceed to
-stringent measures with Pedro and arraign him before a jury of his peers
-on charges of having robbed and defrauded the General Government,
-and more than once with prompt and cheering unanimity had the jury
-pronounced him not guilty, a service which he never failed to requite in
-kind when Garcia, Gomez or Sancho came up for his turn. And now the old
-Mexican was proprietor of a goodly ranch, built mainly of adobe, it is
-true, as were his roomy corrals and storehouses, yet roofed, floored,
-partitioned, doored and menu for either breakfast, dinner or supper, at
-a charge of $1 a head for any and all travelers who sought to appease
-their appetite at his table. He kept a bar, too, and dealt out
-villainous “tanglefoot” and windowed, too, by the unwilling
-contributions wrung from Uncle Sam.
-
-For three years he had furnished bacon, _frijoles_ and fried eggs, the
-unvarying fiery mescal to such stomachs as could stand the onslaught
-and the tax of two bits a thimbleful. He ran a “brace game” of monte
-whenever the packers were drunk or strangers fool enough to play. He was
-a thorough-paced rascal in the opinion of every “gringo” who passed that
-way, and a man of unimpeachable character according to all records
-in the case. He was a “greaser” of whom everything had been said and
-nothing proved; that is, to the satisfaction of an old-time Arizona
-jury. But Mr. Whitlock, the new United States District Attorney, was
-said to be “laying” for Pedro, and between those who knew them both and
-were aware of the possibilities of finding twelve better men and truer
-outside of Maricopa County, bets were even as to the result.
-
-[Illustration: 0021]
-
-“Just let me get that thieving greaser across the line into Yavapai,”
- said a local luminary, “and I'll find a jury that will hang him on
-sight or lynch him on general principles.” But Pedro knew better than to
-venture northward along the tempting shores of the Hassayampa. Even the
-chance of collecting a bad debt from a fellow countryman, known to
-be lurking in Wickenburg, failed to lure Pedro thither. He smiled
-suggestively, showing his white teeth and waving aside the blue smoke of
-his cigarrito with sinewy brown hand. “A--Wickenburg is too damn close
-to Yavapai, and Yavapai to 'ell,” he remarked. And it had more than once
-been said of Pedro that he spoke English like a native.
-
-“Rancho Ruiz” was the sonorous and pretentious title he had bestowed
-upon the establishment to which the winding Arizona roadway led.
-“Cutthroat Crossing” was what the soldiers and placer miners had called
-this half ferry, half ford of Pedro's ever since the body of young
-Sergeant Dinsmore had been found stranded on a sand bar of the Gila two
-miles below,' his neck and his money belt slashed by the same knife.
-Going into Yuma with well-lined pockets, Dinsmore had been warned to
-make no stay among the gang of monte players always hovering about
-Pedro's. But he had been a bold and successful gambler at Tucson. He
-had nothing but contempt for Mexican bravos and confidence in his own
-prowess as a shot. The card table had attractions he could not well
-resist, but the ranch had still another--Pedro's daughter.
-
-Now it was when he was sent thither with a squad of a dozen troopers,
-hunting up the missing sergeant, that Lieutenant Adriance caught
-sight of this siren of a senorita. She could not have been more than
-seventeen, and her mother would have denied her even that number of
-years. “She is a mere child,” protested Senora Dolores, when the subject
-was mentioned. Pedro had moved up from Sonora only a few years before,
-and had lived a while at the old Mexico-Spanish town of Tucson, whither,
-ere long, there came unflattering tales as to the cause of his change
-of residence. He had money, and that in Arizona covered more sins than
-charity. The boundary line lay conveniently near. Extradition was an
-unpracticed art in the days whereof we write. Apaches of the mountains
-and assassins of the mines found equal refuge across the border, and in
-exchange we received such choice spirits as proved too tough for even
-a Mexican town to tolerate. Of such was Pedro; but no one to look at
-Pedro's daughter would have called her a felon's child.
-
-The night that Adriance reached the rancho on the search just mentioned
-he had purposely left his little escort some distance up the Gila, and
-advanced alone to reconnoitre. It was a perfectly still evening, soft
-and starry. The hoofs of his broncho made no sound upon the sandy waste
-of road, and not even the dogs about the corral seemed aware of his
-coming. Adriance had thrice visited the ranch before, when returning
-from scout or pursuit of Apaches, and never once had he been greeted by
-feminine voice about the premises. It was with no little surprise, then,
-that he heard the tinkle of a guitar and the sound of low, soft, girlish
-tones singing a plaintive melody. He had heard many a Mexican ditty,
-and had pronounced the singers twangy, shrill and nasal; but this was
-different. He had come to Rancho Ruiz with every expectation of finding
-evidence of the murder of one of his most valued troopers, and here, on
-the instant of his arrival, was disarmed by a song. East of the ranch
-there stood a little lattice-work structure, something after the manner
-of a summer house, and from thence the sounds proceeded. The lieutenant
-leaped from his horse and strode to the entrance, wondering what
-manner of woman he should find beyond. There was not light enough to
-distinguish either form or feature, but over in the farther corner was
-a shadowy something in white. The song continued but a moment before
-the singer became aware of the equally shadowy form at the entrance, and
-stopped abruptly.
-
-“Leon!” spoke a girlish voice in the Spanish tongue, “you frightened me.
-Is that you?”
-
-“I am Felipe, otherwise Phil. Adriance, of the American Cavalry,
-senorita, and far more surprised than you are at seeing me.”
-
-The girl started to her feet as though flight was her first impulse,
-then hesitated. Did not the “Senor Teniente” bar the way in merely
-standing in the entrance?
-
-“Do not be alarmed, I beg of you,” implored the young officer, “it is so
-long since I have heard a song in a woman's voice. It is such a surprise
-to hear one now. Do sing for me again. I will have to stand here where I
-can hold my horse.”
-
-For a moment she was silent, then: “You have been to the rancho? You
-have seen my father?” she asked at length, her voice tremulous and
-almost inaudible.
-
-“I? No, I have just come; I am alone, and heard your song and forgot
-everything else.”
-
-To his surprise she came hurriedly forward out of the dusk, and stood
-close to his side, looking fearfully over toward the night lights at the
-bar, whence the sounds of Mexican voices could be heard.
-
-“Alone? You came here alone? O senor, ride on or ride back. Stay not
-here! Not at the rancho! There are wicked men--not my father; not Pedro
-Ruiz, but--there are others.”
-
-“Is this true? Are you Pedro's daughter?” queried the lieutenant,
-evidently far more impressed with this fact than with her tidings. “I
-never knew he had a child like you, and I have been here often and have
-never seen you.”
-
-“But I--have seen you, senor, when you were last here, and I saw you,
-too, at the _cuartel_ at Tucson. Do you know--do you remember the day of
-the race?” And her dark eyes were for one instant lifted timidly to his.
-
-“Is this possible?” he exclaimed, seizing her hand as it fell listlessly
-by her side. “Let me see your face. Surely I have heard your voice
-before.” But she shrank back, half timid, half capricious.
-
-“I must not; I must go, senor, and you--you must ride away.”
-
-And now her eyes glanced half fearfully toward the house, then sought
-his face in genuine anxiety. He had been fumbling in the pocket of his
-hunting shirt, and suddenly drew forth a little silver case. The next
-instant, while he held her wrist firmly with one hand, the brilliant
-flame of an electric match flashed over her face and form.
-
-[Illustration: 0027]
-
-“Oh, senor,” she cried, even when bowing her blushing face upon her
-bared arm, “this is madness! Put it out!” Then, like a frightened deer,
-she went bounding to the ranch, but not before he had recognized in her
-the pretty Mexican girl with whom he had thrice danced at the _festa_
-at Tucson and whose name he had vainly sought to learn. Nor did he again
-see her on this visit. Nor did he hear again her voice. Returning with
-his men at dawn, he began the day's investigations and had occasion
-to ask many questions of old Pedro, who promptly answered that he well
-remembered the sergeant and that the sergeant had drunk at his bar; had
-partaken of his cheer; had stabled his horse at the corral; but that,
-after gambling with “los otros,” men of whom he, Pedro, knew naught, the
-sergeant had gone on his way. More he could not tell. He shrugged his
-shoulders and protested his ignorance even of the names of the men with
-whom Dinsmore had gambled.
-
-“You enter my house, Senor Teniente. You ask for food, for drink. You
-pay. You go. Ask I you your name--your home? No! Should I demand it of
-any caballero who so come and go?”
-
-And failing in extracting information from the master, Adriance sought
-the hirelings and found them equally reticent. Shrewd frontiersmen and
-campaigners in his little detachment were equally unsuccessful until
-nearly night, when a brace of prospectors rode in and said they saw what
-looked to be a human body over on a sand bar down the Gila. Then Pedro's
-face had turned ashen gray, and one of his henchmen trembled violently.
-
-Poor Dinsmore was given such soldier burial as his comrades could
-devise, and Pedro, of his own accord, and with much reverential gravity
-of mien, had graced the ceremony with his presence.
-
-Every man of the cavalry detachment felt morally certain that Pedro Ruiz
-knew far more than he would tell, but there was no way in which they
-could proceed farther, and civil process was ineffectual in those days
-except in the court of final jurisdiction of which Judge Lynch was sole
-presiding officer.
-
-Adriance rode away with a distinct sense of discomfiture at heart. What
-business had he to feel baffled and chagrined at his failure to see
-that girl again when the original object of his mission had been the
-discovery of Dinsmore's fate? What right had he to wish to speak with
-the daughter of the man whom he believed an accessory to the sergeant's
-murder? “Do not let them know you have seen me” she had whispered ere
-she scurried away to the ranch, and as neither mother nor daughter
-once appeared during the presence of his escort about the corral, there
-seemed no way in which he could open the subject.
-
-Six months passed, during which period he had been sent to Tucson
-on escort duty, and while there had sought and found some well-to-do
-Mexican residents whom he remembered as being friends of the graceful
-girl who had danced so delightfully with him at the _baile_ only the
-year before. From them he learned her name, Isabel, and something of her
-history. And the very next scout down the Gila found him in command and
-eager to go, and this very night, black and forbidding, that had settled
-down on Rancho Ruiz after the arrival of Paymaster Sherrick and his
-train, who should come riding noiselessly through the gloaming but
-Lieutenant Adriance himself, as before, all alone.
-
-Nearing the lights of the rancho and moving at slow and cautious walk,
-his ears alert for every sound, the lieutenant became aware of the fact
-that Roderick, his pet horse, was pricking up his own ears and showing
-vast interest in some mysterious and unseen presence which they were
-steadily approaching. Before he had got within two hundred yards of
-the dim light of the house he caught sight of a lantern or two flitting
-about the corral. Then Roderick quickened his nimble walk and began
-edging off to the right front, where presently, against the low western
-sky, Adriance could distinguish some object like a big covered wagon,
-and plainly heard the pawing and snorting of a horse. Roderick evidently
-wanted to answer, but the lieutenant reined him abruptly to the left,
-and veered away southward.
-
-Just now it was not the society of his fellow men he sought. A woman's
-voice, one woman's at least, would have called him eagerly forward from
-the darkness into the light of her waiting eyes. As it was, he made
-wide circuit, and not until well to the south did he again approach
-the silent walls of the corral. And now the wind, blowing toward him,
-brought with it the sound of voices, and Adriance was suddenly warned
-that someone was here, close at hand. Dismounting, the lieutenant slowly
-led his horse toward the dark barrier before him, but not until he had
-softly traversed the length of the southern wall did he become aware
-of other voices, low toned and eager. Around the corner, on the western
-side, the dark forms of a horseman and someone afoot were dimly defined,
-then a brief conversation became audible:
-
-[Illustration: 0031]
-
-[Illustration: 0019]
-
-“You have no time to lose, Leon. Go softly until you are a mile away,
-then ride like hell.
-
-“I understand, but the money?”
-
-“That shall be yours to-morrow--now skip.”
-
-The jingle of a Mexican spur, the soft thud of mustang hoofs upon the
-yielding soil were heard a moment, and the horseman rode slowly away
-southwestward, the broad stiff brim of his sombrero revealed against the
-starry sky; then all was silence. The American, whoever he was, still
-stood there. Adriance felt sure he had heard the voice before. As for
-the horseman--Leon--that was the name he heard her speak the night he
-surprised her in the little summer house. Who was Leon?
-
-[Illustration: 0035]
-
-Presently the American turned and strolled slowly back toward the
-rancho. Slipping Roderick's rein over the post at the angle, the
-lieutenant followed. Keeping close to the wall, the stranger led the
-way, all unconscious of pursuit or observation, yet when he reached the
-next corner, whence could be seen the night lights of the rancho and
-the far-away gleam of the camp fire, out toward the Gila, he stopped and
-peered cautiously around.
-
-Mindful of the evil fame that hung about the premises, Adriance
-halted too and waited. The next moment his heart beat hard. A woman's
-voice--soft, silvery and young--had accosted the stranger. It was
-Isabel's.
-
-“You have sent my brother away again, when he had but just returned. Why
-is this, senor? Whither has he gone?”
-
-“Never mind about Leon, Belita,” said the American, soothingly, “he's
-all right. He has simply ridden over to let Captain Rawlins know of our
-mishap.”
-
-“It is not true, senor! I heard him speak to my father. It is to Sancho
-and to Manuel he rides, and for no good. To what new crime do you lead
-him? Why are they all gone? Why are we alone here this night? Why----”
-
-“Don't be a fool, girl,” said the man curtly, as he took her by the
-wrist. “Come, Leon's gone. Come back to the house.”
-
-“He has not gone. He promised me he would not go from me without a word
-to-night. The moment I saw you I knew that trouble would come, and I
-warned him when he returned. You have made him wicked--you Americanos.
-You are all----'
-
-“Oh, yes, all, even Teniente Adriance, Isabel. I heard all about you and
-your affair with him. Have a care!”
-
-“No. He is good. It is not in him to make a gambler and a rover of my
-brother.”
-
-“He would make worse of your brother's sister, you fool,” the man
-muttered, with brutal emphasis. “Come now, no nonsense with that fellow;
-he's as good as married already, I tell you; he is to be married in two
-months.”
-
-“Oh, it is not true!” was the fiery answer. “You lie!” And then, with
-feminine inconsequence, “Who is she? Who does he marry?”
-
-“The Senorita Abert--a lovely girl, too, and rich--in San Francisco.”
-
-“Yes, it is a lie, Staines, and you know it!” came in cool and measured
-tones, and Mr. Adriance suddenly stepped from the corner of the wall.
-
-Staines dropped the captive's hand and recoiled a pace or two with a
-stifled exclamation, half amaze, half dismay; then with sudden effort
-strove to recover himself. “Well,” he exclaimed, with a nervous laugh;
-“talk of angels and you hear the rustle, etc. Indeed, lieutenant, I
-beg your pardon, though; I was merely joking with our little Mexican
-friend.”
-
-“That will do, Mr. Staines; I know a joke when I hear one. Wait here
-a moment, if you please, for I want a word with you. Pardon me for
-startling you, senorita. Will you take my arm?”
-
-The girl was trembling violently. With bowed head and fluttering heart
-she leaned upon the trooper's arm and was slowly led away toward the
-rancho, never seeming to note that the little brown hand that had been
-so firmly taken and drawn within by his was still tightly clasped
-by that cavalry gauntlet. The moment they were out of the earshot of
-Staines the lieutenant bent down.
-
-“It was to see you I came here, Isabel; I had hoped to find you at the
-summer house. Come to me there in ten minutes, will you? I must see you
-before I go. First, though, I have to investigate that fellow Staines.”
-
-“Oh, I cannot! I dare not! I slipped away from my room because of Leon.
-They will lead him into trouble again. Indeed, I must go back. I must
-go, Senor Felipe.”
-
-“You remember my name, then, little one!” he laughed, delightedly. “I
-have been to Tucson since I saw you that blessed night, and I heard all
-about you.”
-
-“Hush, senor! It is my mother who calls. List! Let me go, sefior!”
- for his arm had suddenly stolen about her waist. “Promise you will
-come--promise!”
-
-“I dare not! O Felipe, no!” she cried, for he had with quick impulse
-folded her tightly in his strong embrace and his lips were seeking hers.
-Struggling to avoid them she had hidden her face upon his breast.
-
-“Promise--quick!” he whispered.
-
-“Ah, if I can--yes. Now let me go.” His firm hand turned her glowing
-face to his; his eager lips pressed one lingering kiss just at the
-corner of her pretty mouth. She hurled herself from him then and bounded
-into the darkness. An instant more and he heard the latch of the rear
-door click; a stream of light shot out toward the corral and she was
-gone. Then slowly he returned to the corner of the wall, fully expecting
-that Staines had left. To his surprise, there was the clerk composedly
-awaiting him.
-
-“Where have you sent Leon Ruiz?” was the stern question.
-
-“I do not recognize your right to speak to me in that tone, Mr.
-Adriance. If you have nothing else to ask me--good night!”
-
-“By God, sir! I heard your whispered talk with him and I know there is
-mischief afoot,” said the lieutenant, as he strode after the retreating
-form. “This thing has got to be explained, and in the major's presence.”
-
-Staines halted, and lifting his hat with Castilian grace of manner bowed
-profoundly to the angry officer. “Permit me, sir, to conduct you to
-him.”
-
-An hour later, baffled, puzzled, balked in his precious hopes, Mr.
-Adriance returned to the bivouac of his little command. Major Sherrick
-had promptly and fully confirmed the statement of his clerk. It was he
-who told Mr. Staines to employ a ranchman to ride by night to Captain
-Rawlins, and the mysterious caution that surrounded the proceedings was
-explained by the fact that Pedro had refused his permission and that
-Leon had to be bribed to disobey the paternal order. Adriance was
-dissatisfied and suspicious, but what was there left for him to say?
-
-Then he had hastened to the summer house, and waited a whole hour, but
-there came no Isabel. It was nearly 10 o'clock when he turned his horse
-over to the care of the guard in a little clump of cottonwoods near the
-Gila.
-
-“We remain here to-morrow,” he briefly told the sergeant. “No need
-to wake the men before 6.” With that he went to the little wall tent,
-pitched for his use some yards away.
-
-How long he slumbered Adriance could not tell. Ill at ease as to the
-strange conduct of Staines, he had not slept well. Conscience, too, was
-smiting him. Something in the tones of that girlish voice thrilled and
-quivered through his memory. What right had he even to ask her to meet
-him? What wrong had he not wrought in that one kiss?
-
-Somebody was fumbling at the fastening of the tent flap.
-
-“What is wanted, sergeant?” he quickly hailed.
-
-“Open, quick!” was the low-toned answer. “Come to the door. No, no,
-bring no light,” was the breathless caution, as he struck a match.
-
-“Who is this?” he demanded, with strange thrill at heart--something in
-those tones he well knew--yet it could not be. A dim figure in shrouding
-_serape_ was crouching at the front tent pole as he threw open the flap.
-
-“Good God! Isabel!”
-
-“Si---- Yes. Hush, senor, no one must hear, no one must know 'twas I.
-Quick! Wake your men! Saddle! Ride hard till you catch the paymaster!
-Never leave him till you are beyond Canyon del Muerto, and then never
-come to the rancho again--never!”
-
-[Illustration: 5039]
-
-
-SECOND CHAPTER
-
-[Illustration: 0040]
-
-[Illustration: 9040]
-
-HAT off mule of the paymaster's ambulance been a quadruped of wonderful
-recuperative powers. She had gone nearly dead lame all the previous day,
-and now at 5 o'clock on this breezy morning was trotting along as though
-she had never known a twinge in her life. Mr. Staines was apparently
-nonplussed. Acting on his advice, the paymaster had decided to break
-camp soon after 2 o'clock, make coffee, and then start for Rawlins' camp
-at once. He confidently expected to have to drag along at a slow walk,
-and his idea was to get well through the Canyon del Muerto before the
-heat of the day. The unexpected recovery of Jenny, however, enabled
-them to go bowling ahead over the level flat, and at sunrise they were
-already in sight of the northern entrance to the gorge. It was odd how
-early Mr. Staines began to develop lively interest in the condition of
-that mule. First he suggested to the driver that he was going too fast,
-and would bring on that lameness again; but the driver replied that it
-was Jenny herself who was doing most of the pulling. Then Staines became
-fearful lest the cavalry escort should get exhausted by such steady
-trotting, and ventured to say to Major Sherrick that they ought to rein
-up on their account. Sherrick was eager to push ahead, and, like most
-other men not to the manner born, never for a moment thought of such a
-thing as a horse's getting used up by simply carrying a man-at-arms six
-hours at ceaseless trot or lope. However, he knew that Staines was far
-more experienced in such matters than he, and so could not disregard his
-advice.
-
-[Illustration: 8041]
-
-“How is it, sergeant, are we going too fast for you?” he asked.
-
-“Not a bit of it, sir,” was the cheery answer.
-
-“We're glad enough to go lively now and rest all day in the shade.”
-
-“You see how it is, Staines; they don't want to slack up speed. We'll
-get to Rawlins' in time for breakfast at this rate,” and again Staines
-was silent. Presently the team began the ascent of a rolling wave of
-foothill, around which the roadway twisted as only Arizona roadways can,
-and at the crest the driver reined in to give his mules a “breather.”
- Staines leaped from the ambulance for a stretch. The troopers promptly
-dismounted and loosened saddle girths.
-
-“Yonder is the mouth of the Canyon, sir,” said the sergeant, pointing
-to a rift in the range to the south, now gorgeously lighted up by the
-morning sunshine.
-
-“How long is the defile, sergeant?”
-
-“Not more than four miles, sir--that is, the Canyon itself--but it is
-crooked as a ram's horn, and the approach on the other side is a long,
-winding valley.”
-
-“When were you there last?” asked Staines.
-
-“About six months ago, just after Dins-more was murdered.”
-
-Staines turned quickly away and strolled back a few yards along the
-road.
-
-“You knew Dinsmore, then?” asked the paymaster.
-
-“I knew him well, sir. We had served together during the war. They said
-he fell in love with a pretty Mexican girl at Tucson, and she would
-not listen to him. Some of the men heard that she was a daughter of old
-Pedro who keeps that ranch, and that it was hoping to see her that he
-went there.”
-
-“I know. I remember hearing about it all then,” said the paymaster. “Did
-you ever see anything of the man who was said to have killed him?”
-
-“Sonora Bill? No, sir; and I don't know anyone who ever did. He was
-always spoken of as the chief of a gang of cutthroats and stage robbers
-down around Tucson. They used to masquerade as Apaches sometimes--that's
-the way they were never caught. The time they robbed Colonel Wood and
-killed his clerk 'I' troop was scouting not ten miles away, and blessed
-if some of the very gang didn't gallop to Lieutenant Breese and swear
-the Apaches had attacked their camp here in Canyon del Muerto, so that
-when the lieutenant was wanted to chase the thieves his troop couldn't
-be found anywhere--he was 'way up here hunting for Apaches in the
-Maricopa range. The queer thing about that gang was that they always
-knew just when a paymaster's outfit or a Government officer with funds
-would be along. It was those fellows that robbed Major Rounds, the
-quartermaster, and jumped the stage when Lieutenant Spaulding and his
-wife were aboard. She had beautiful diamonds that they were after,
-but the lieutenant fooled them--he had them sent by express two days
-afterward.”
-
-Mr. Staines came back toward the ambulance at this moment, took a field
-glass from its case, and retraced his steps along the road some twenty
-yards. Here he adjusted the glass and looked long toward the northeast.
-
-“All ready to start, sir,” said the driver.
-
-The major swung himself up to his seat; the troopers quietly “sinched”
- their saddles and mounted, and still the clerk stood there absorbed.
-
-“Come, Staines!” shouted the paymaster, impatiently, “we're waiting for
-you.” And still he did not move. The sergeant whirled his horse about
-and clattered back to where he stood.
-
-“Come, sir, the major's waiting.” Staines turned abruptly and, silent as
-ever, hurried to the wagon.
-
-“What were you staring at so long?” said the paymaster, pettishly, as
-his assistant clambered in. “I shouted two or three times.”
-
-Staines' face was pale, yet there were drops of sweat upon his brow.
-
-“I thought I saw a party of horsemen out there on the flats.”
-
-“The devil!” said the paymaster, with sudden interest. “Where? Let me
-look.”
-
-“You can't see now, sir. Even the dust cloud is gone. They are behind
-that low ridge some eight or ten miles out there in the valley.”
-
-“Go on, driver, it's only cattle from the ranch or something of that
-kind. I didn't know, by the way you looked and spoke, but that it might
-be some of Sonora Bill's gang.”
-
-“Hardly, sir; they haven't been heard of for a year, and once away from
-Pedro's we are safe enough anyhow.”
-
-Half an hour later the four-mule team was winding slowly up a rocky
-path. On both sides the heights were steep, covered with a thick
-undergrowth of scrub oak and juniper. Here and there rocky cliffs
-jutted out from the hillside and stood like sentinels along the way.
-The sergeant, with one trooper, rode some distance ahead, their carbines
-“advanced” and ready for use, for Edwards was an old campaigner, and,
-though he thought it far from probable that any outlaws would be fools
-enough to attempt to “get away with” a paymaster's bank when he and his
-five men were the guardians and Captain Rawlins with his whole troop
-was but a short distance away, he had learned the lesson of precaution.
-Major Sherrick, with his iron safe under his own seat, grasped a rifle
-in both hands. The driver was whistling softly to himself and glancing
-attentively ahead, for there was a continuous outcrop of boulders all
-along the road. The remaining troopers, four in number, rode close
-behind or alongside the wagon.
-
-Presently they reached a point where, after turning a precipitous ledge
-of rock, glistening in the morning sunshine, they saw before them a
-somewhat steep incline. Here, without a word, Staines swung lightly
-from the vehicle and trudged for a moment alongside; then he stooped to
-adjust his boot lace, and when Sherrick looked back the clerk was coming
-jauntily after them, only a dozen paces in rear. In this order they
-pushed ahead perhaps a hundred yards farther, moving slowly up the
-defile, and Staines could easily have regained his distance, but for
-some reason failed to do so. Suddenly, and for no apparent cause, Jenny
-and her mate shied violently, swerved completely around and were tangled
-up with the wheel team before the driver could use the lash. Even his
-ready blasphemy failed to straighten things out.
-
-“Look out for those rocks up there on the right!” he shouted. “Grab
-their heads, Billy!”
-
-Even as he spoke the rocky walls of the Canyon resounded with the crash
-of a score of firearms. The driver, with a convulsive gasp, toppled
-forward out of his seat, his hand still clinching the reins. One of the
-troopers clapped his hand to his forehead, his reins falling useless
-upon his horse's neck, and reeled in the saddle as his charger whirled
-about and rushed, snorting with fright, down the narrow road. At the
-instant of the firing the sound of a dozen “spats” told where
-the leaden missiles had torn through the stiff canvas cover of the
-ambulance; and Sherrick, with blanched face, leaped from the riddled
-vehicle and plunged heavily forward upon his hands and knees. Two of
-the troopers sprang from their saddles, and, crouching behind a boulder
-across the road, opened fire up the opposite hillside. The sergeant and
-his comrade, bending low over their horses' necks, came thundering back
-down the Canyon, just in time to see the mules whirl about so suddenly
-as to throw the ambulance on its side. The iron safe was hurled into the
-shallow ditch; the wagon bed dragged across the prostrate form of the
-paymaster, rolling him over and over half a dozen times, and then, with
-a wreck of canvas, splinters, chains and traces clattering at their
-heels, the four mules went rattling away down the gorge.
-
-[Illustration: 0047]
-
-“Jump for shelter, men!” shouted Sergeant Edwards, as he dragged the
-senseless form of the major under the great ledge to the right. “Stand
-them off as long as you can! Come out of your holes, you cowardly
-hounds!” he roared, shaking his fist at the smoke-wreathed rocks up the
-heights. “Come out and fight fair! There's only five of us left!”
-
-Here in the road lay the major, bleeding from cuts and bruises, with
-every breath knocked out of his battered body; yonder, his hands
-'clinched in the death agony, the stiffening form of the driver--plucky
-to the last. Twenty yards away down the road, all in a heap, lay one
-poor soldier shot through the head, and now past praying for. One of
-the others was bleeding from a gash along the cheek where a bullet had
-zipped its way, and Edwards shouted in vain for Staines to join them;
-the clerk had disappeared. For full five minutes the desperate combat
-was maintained; the sergeant and his little squad crouching behind the
-nearest rocks and firing whenever head or sombrero showed itself along
-the heights. Then came shots from the rear, and another poor fellow was
-laid low, and Edwards realized, to his despair, that the bandits were on
-every side, and the result only a question of time.
-
-And then--then, there came a thunder of hoof beats, a storm of ringing
-cheers, a rush and whirl of panting, foaming steeds and a score of
-sunburnt, stalwart troopers racing in the lead of a tall young soldier,
-whose voice rang clear above the tumult: “Dismount! Up the rocks, men!
-Lively now!” And, springing from his own steed, leaping catlike from
-rock to rock, Phil Adriance went tearing up the heights, his soldiers at
-his heels. Edwards and his unwounded men seized and held the trembling
-horses; Sherrick feebly crawled to his precious safe and fell across it,
-his arms clasping about his iron charge. For five minutes more there was
-a clamor of shots and shouts, once in a while a wild Mexican shriek
-for mercy, all the tumult gradually receding in the distance, and at
-last--silence. Then two men came down the bluffs, half bearing between
-them the limp form of their young leader. The lieutenant was shot
-through both thighs and was faint from loss of blood.
-
-“Has no one a little whiskey?” asked Corporal Watts.
-
-“Here you are” was the answer. And Mr. Staines, with very white face,
-stepped down from behind the ledge and held out his flask.
-
-A week later the lieutenant lay convalescing at Rawlins' camp. A
-vigorous constitution and the healthful, bracing, open-air life he
-had led for several years, either in the saddle or tramping over the
-mountains, had enabled him to triumph speedily over such minor ills as
-flesh wounds, even though the loss of blood had been very great. The
-young soldier was soon able to give full particulars of his chase, and
-to one man alone, Rawlins, the secret of its inspiration.
-
-Most important had been the results. It was evident to everyone who
-examined the ground--and Rawlins had scoured the range with one platoon
-of his troop that very afternoon after the fight, while his lieutenant,
-Mr. Lane, was chasing the fugitives with another--that a band of at
-least twenty outlaws had been concealed among the rocks of Canyon del
-Muerto for two or three days, evidently for the purpose of waylaying
-the escort of the paymaster when he came along. Their horses had been
-concealed half a mile away in a deep ravine, and it was in trying to
-escape to them that they had sustained their losses. Five of their
-number were shot down in full flight by Adri-ance's men, and, could they
-have caught the others, no quarter would have been given, for the men
-were infuriated by the sight of the havoc the robbers had wrought, and
-by the shooting of their favorite officer.
-
-[Illustration: 0052]
-
-No papers had been found on the bodies; nothing, in fact, to identify
-them with any band. All, with one exception, were Mexicans; he was a
-white man whom none of the troopers could identify, though Corporal
-Watts, of Troop B, declared he had seen him at “Cutthroat Crossing” the
-last time he went through there on escort duty. The others, whoever they
-were, rode in a body until they got around the range to the southward,
-then seemed to scatter over the face of the earth. Some odd things had
-transpired, over which Rawlins pondered not a little. It was Corporal
-Watts who brought to his camp at 11 o'clock the news of the desperate
-attempt to murder and rob the paymaster, and as they rode back together
-the corporal gave the captain such information as lay in his power.
-Lieutenant Adriance had “routed out” the detachment just at daybreak,
-when it was still dark, and saddling with the utmost haste had led away
-across country for the canyon, leaving the pack mules and a small guard
-at camp. “We rode like the wind,” said Watts, “after the first few
-miles, and every man seemed to know just what to expect when at last we
-struck the road and saw the trail of the ambulance and escort. We got
-there just in the nick of time.”
-
-When Sherrick--who though severely battered and bruised had no bones
-broken--was able to talk at all, he never could say enough in praise of
-Adriance and his men; but what he wanted to know was how they came to
-learn of the threatened danger. Captain Rawlins protested that it was
-“past finding out.” The major questioned the men, but without
-success, and as for Staines, it was remarked that his pertinacity in
-cross-examination was simply wonderful. For some reason, however, the
-men of B troop did not like the fellow and would have little to do with
-him. But up to the time that Major Sherrick was able to push ahead for
-Tucson it is certain that he had discovered nothing as to the source of
-the lieutenant's information; neither had they heard of Leon Ruiz, the
-night messenger. Staines opined that he must have been intercepted by
-the bandits, perhaps killed by them, when it was found that he was the
-bearer of a message to Captain Rawlins. After a brief chat with the
-lieutenant himself, one which the doctor did not interdict, the old
-troop commander sent a trusty sergeant with six men to scout the
-neighborhood of the rancho.
-
-Lieutenant Lane was detached to take command of Adriance's troop,
-which was sent on its way forthwith, leaving the gloomy rancho alone to
-sentinel the Gila crossing. But the moment Sherrick and his silent clerk
-drove on toward Tucson the old captain said a few words of farewell to
-the invalid, left him in the doctor's charge and rode away northward
-on the trail of his sergeant. That night he rapped for admission and
-ordered supper at Rancho Ruiz, while his men, strolling about the
-premises, took careful note of the three or four scowling “greasers” who
-infested the corral.
-
-Adriance was sitting up and beginning to hobble around when Rawlins
-returned to camp during the week that followed, and was all eagerness
-to hear what tidings the captain had to tell. But Rawlins had little to
-say; he had seen Pedro and had had one glimpse of Senora Dolores,
-but not so much as a word with the senorita; she was kept carefully
-concealed. Within the month Adriance was quite well enough to travel to
-his station, but refused. He would remain here, he said, until able to
-relieve Lane of the command of his troop and continue the scouting work.
-He did not wish to go to the fort. Sherrick and his clerk had come back
-in the course of a fortnight, and Mr. Staines asked to see Lieutenant
-Adriance, but that gentleman refused--a matter which caused the clerk
-to “bite his lips and look queer,” reported the soldier who took the
-message, but he said nothing at all.
-
-Ten days afterward a Prescott paper mentioned the fact that Mr. Albert
-G. Staines, so long and favorably known in this Territory, had dropped
-in to look over valuable mining properties in the Big Bug and Hassayampa
-districts; and this Rawlins silently showed to Adriance.
-
-“Then you may be sure he'll come down to the rancho, and in less than no
-time,” said Adriance, “and I must go.” Rawlins made no reply at first,
-then he rose and nervously paced the floor a moment and turned upon his
-junior.
-
-“Philip, I say no!”
-
-The color mounted to the lieutenant's
-
-“Why not?”
-
-“Ask yourself; ask your conscience, Adriance. You have told her that he,
-Staines, was a liar. You have virtually told her that you were engaged
-to no woman. You have inspired a sentiment, perhaps a passion, in that
-young girl's heart, and you're going there to defend her--a thing that I
-can do much better than you, now that you are a cripple. Then, think, my
-boy, I have known you six years; I have never known you to say or do a
-mean or unmanly thing. I'm an old fogy--an old fool perhaps--but I
-like to think most women pure and some men honest. You are one of them,
-Phil.” There was a moment's silence.
-
-“And yet you think I mean her harm.”
-
-“Not yet, Philip, but would you marry that old scoundrel's daughter?”
-
-Adriance had no answer.
-
-“Philip, if you look into that girl's eyes again, unless it be to ask
-her to be your wife, I shall lose my faith in manly honor.”
-
-Two days afterward Rawlins rode away on duty. A strange unrest had
-possessed the lieutenant since that brief talk with this old Puritan of
-a captain. Not another word had been said upon the subject, but every
-syllable that Rawlins spoke had struck home. Adriance respected
-and honored the grim, duty-loving troop commander whom some of the
-youngsters openly laughed at and referred to as “Praise the Lord
-Barebones” and “Captain Roundhead,” but the lieutenant well knew that no
-braver soldier, no “squar-er” captain drew sabre in the whole regiment
-than this faithful friend, who had long since singled him out for many
-an unusual kindness. He knew more--that in his high standard of honor
-and rectitude old Rawlins had said nothing which was not just and true.
-
-Adriance knew well that he ought not to again seek that young girl's
-presence, and the blood rushed hotly to his cheek as he recalled the
-kiss his eager lips had stolen. Marry that old scoundrel's daughter? No,
-he could not; and yet how his pulses bounded at the thought of her--the
-sweet, shy gladness in her eyes, the soft, thrilling tones in her voice
-when she spoke his name, the heroism of her conduct in daring to
-seek his camp in the darkness of night and bring him warning of that
-diabolical scheme of robbery and murder; the refinement of her manner,
-and then, too, her knowledge of the English tongue. Where had she
-acquired these? What would she not be justified in thinking of him if he
-never came to seek and thank her?
-
-“Hello! what's that?” was the sudden cry among the men. Two or three
-soldiers sat up in the shade and curiously inspected the coming object;
-others shouted laughing challenge. Riding solemnly forward, a little
-Mexican boy came straight to where Adriance was lying and handed him a
-note which he eagerly opened and read:
-
-_They suspect me, and they send me away tomorrow. To-night I go for the
-last time to the summer house alone. Isabel._
-
-Gone was every resolution at the instant; gone all hesitancy. Adriance
-had not even time to wonder at the fact that she had written to him in
-English. Leaving the note for Rawlins to read when he returned, in one
-hour Phil was rolling from the camp in the ambulance. Soon after dark,
-leaving Private Regan and another man half a mile back from the walls
-of the corral, Mr. Adriance, all alone, slowly made his way afoot toward
-the dim lights at the rancho. Making wide circuit so as not to alarm the
-dogs, he never sought to draw near the little summer house until, from
-the east, he could see the brighter lights that gleamed in the bar and
-card room. Then he cautiously approached, his heart beating quickly and
-his knees trembling a little, perhaps from weakness. Hark! Faint, soft
-and clear, there rose upon the evening air the liquid notes of a guitar.
-It was she then--it was Isabel awaiting his coming, aye, signaling
-softly to call him to her. What could it mean but that she loved and
-longed to see him? A moment more and he was at the doorway, the
-very spot where he had surprised her that well-remembered night. The
-plaintive tinkle of the guitar continued, and there in the dark corner
-was the dim, white-robed form. He could almost distinguish the folds of
-the graceful _rebosa_.
-
-“Isabel!” he whispered. Three more steps and he would be at her side.
-Suddenly two stalwart arms were thrown about him, a broad hand was on
-his mouth, stifling the utterance of a sound; the white-robed form in
-front leaped toward him, the _rebosa_ falling to the ground. It was a
-man's voice--a Mexican's--that hissed the word's: “Quick! the pistol.”
- Another hand was at his holster. He realized instantly that he was
-lured, trapped; that his life was threatened. He was struggling
-violently, but, weakened by his wound, even his superb physique was well
-nigh powerless in the grasp of two or three men. Suddenly there came
-a whisper: “The sponge, the sponge!” and then the subtle odor of
-chloroform on the night air. And now he nerved himself for one supreme
-effort. A quick twist of his head and the hand was dislodged, a finger
-slipping between his teeth. With all his strength he crushed it to the
-very bone, and there was a yell of pain and terror. Then his own brave
-young voice rang out in one startling, rallying cry.
-
-“Help! Regan, help!” Then crash and blows, the gleam of a knife, a
-rolling, rough-and-tumble struggle on the ground; then a woman's scream,
-a light, and Isabel had bounded into their midst, her mother at her
-back.
-
-“Leon, my brother! In God's name, what do you mean?”
-
-Even as she spoke her startled eyes fell on Adriance, staggering to his
-feet, pale, bleeding, faint. Another instant and he went crashing back
-against the guitar that, like siren's song, had lured him. One brave
-leap and she was at his side, her arms about his neck, his pallid face
-pillowed on her bosom.
-
-Senora Dolores flew to her aid; then turning, holding her lantern on
-high, her shrill voice rang out in fury:
-
-“Look at the monstrous work your son has wrought, Pedro Ruiz! Look! Tear
-off that mantle, senor!” she said, whirling upon another form now slowly
-rising from the earth. “Coward! murderer that you are! It is you who
-have ruined this boy and made him what he is!”
-
-“Hush! You fool! there lies your daughter's betrayer. Leon would have
-been coward indeed if he had not punished him.”
-
-“Oh, you lie! She never saw him alone in her life!”
-
-“Ask your son,” was the sneering answer. “Ask José, too.”
-
-“She was with him--in his tent--the last night he was here; I swear it!”
- cried José.
-
-“Mother,” cried the girl, “listen, it was but to warn him--I heard the
-plot--I heard all. I rushed to him only to tell him of the danger.
-Mother, believe me. And I dare not tell it even to you, for fear--for
-fear of him.” And she pointed to the fierce, scowling face of the old
-Mexican, now striding forward, knife in hand.
-
-“No, Pedro--back! You shall not harm her! No!” and the mother hurled
-herself before her husband.
-
-“Out of the way!” was the hissing answer, “or you, too, feel my knife.
-Ah, traitress!”
-
-“O my God! help! There will be murder here! Pedro, husband! O, villain,
-she is not your child! You shall not kill!” And then a piercing shriek
-rang out upon the night. But at the same instant there came the rush of
-hoofs without--a rush of panting men; a brawny trooper sprang into
-the summer house and with one blow of his revolver butt sent Pedro
-staggering into a corner, his knife falling from his nerveless hand. A
-dark, agile figure leaped for the doorway, with muttered curse. And then
-in came old Rawlins, somewhat “blown,” but preternaturally cool, and the
-doctor close behind.
-
-“Bring another light here, one of you men!” And a trooper ran to the
-card room. “Lie still there, Pedro! Blow his brains out if he moves!
-Doctor, you look to the women and Adriance. Now, where's that man
-Staines?”
-
-“Some fellow ran in through here, captain,” said a trooper. “Corporal
-Watts is after him with Royce.”
-
-“Who was it, you greaser? Speak, damn you! You were here with him!”
-
-“Sonora Bill,” said José, shaking from head to foot.
-
-Then there came the sound of pistol shots out toward the corral, and
-then the louder bang of a cavalry carbine.
-
-“What is it?” asked Rawlins of a soldier who came running back.
-
-[Illustration: 0061]
-
-“Can we have the doctor, sir? It was Mr. Staines. He shot the corporal,
-who was chasing him, but he got a carbine bullet through the heart.”
-
-Four days afterward, lying in a little white room, Mr. Adriance listened
-to the story of Leon's confession. It was brief enough. Staines had
-acquired an ascendency over him in Tucson, and it was not difficult to
-induce him to become a confederate in every plot. It was Staines
-who sent him to Manuel and Garcia to warn them that the paymaster's
-ambulance would not reach Canyon del Muerto until morning. It was
-Staines who murdered Sergeant Dinsmore after a quarrel and then had had
-his throat cut and the body thrown into the Gila near the ranch. Staines
-had fallen in love with Isabel when she first came from Sonora, but the
-girl shrank from him; neither would she listen to Sergeant Dinsmore.
-
-After it was safe for Leon to return to the ranch, he found that his
-mother and Isabel were practically prisoners. His father was furious at
-the failure of the plan, and daily accused his wife of having, in some
-way, given warning to Adriance, and swore that he would have the blood
-of the man or woman who had betrayed the scheme; and then Staines
-himself came back and wrung from José that he had seen Isabel scurrying
-from Adri-ance's tent at daybreak, and so denounced her to Leon as the
-mistress of an accursed Gringo. Staines wrote the note that was to lure
-Adriance to the bower, where Leon was to take the guitar and _rebosa_
-and the two, with José's help, were to overpower him. It was his life or
-theirs said Staines. Pedro was not in the project, for he had prohibited
-bloodshed about the place--“It would ruin his business” he said. But
-both Pedro and Leon were now in irons, and Rawlins' troop was in camp
-around gloomy old Rancho Ruiz.
-
-[Illustration: 0063]
-
-A day or two later he heard another story, this time from the lips of
-Senora Dolores herself: Isabel was not the daughter of Pedro Ruiz.
-
-With sobs and tears the poor, broken woman told her tale. She had
-been married when quite a young girl to Senor Moreno, an officer of
-distinction in the Mexican army. Her brave husband made her life a happy
-one, and the birth of the little daughter strengthened the ties
-that bound them. Alas! Moreno, colonel of lancers, was killed before
-Queretaro; and in two years more the widow, with her winsome little
-girl, had not where to lay her head. It was in the city of Mexico that
-Senora Dolores then met Ruiz, a widower with an only son, prosperous and
-apparently respected. He promised to educate Isabel and provide for her
-as his own, and sought the widow as his wife. For a time all went well;
-then she learned his true character. He was compelled to leave the
-city and flee up the coast to Mazatlan, while she remained with little
-Isabel, who was being educated at the convent. At last they had to join
-him at Hermosillo, whence he was soon after driven to Tucson. Their
-lives were wrecked by his scoundrelism. Her papers clearly established
-the truth of her story.
-
-One soft, still evening, not a week after the tragic events of that
-rueful night, Captain Rawlins sat by the lieutenant's side, reading
-aloud some letters just received from department headquarters. Major
-Sherrick had been in a state of dismay ever since the news of the death
-of Staines had reached him, but his dismay changed to wonderment, even
-gratitude, as he learned the true character of the man. It was Sonora
-Bill himself, beyond doubt.
-
-“What a blessing you left that note for me to see!” said Rawlins. “How
-came it you never saw it was a forgery, Phil? Had she never written to
-you before?”
-
-“Never a line, nor have I seen her to thank her. By Heaven, Rawlins! why
-am I forbidden?”
-
-“You are not--now, Phil,” was the smiling answer.
-
-Perhaps an hour later, Adriance limped slowly out of the room and down
-the narrow passageway to the side door. Yonder stood the little summer
-house “in the gloaming,” and he was right--he had heard women's voices
-there--Dolores and her daughter. There were tears in the maiden's words,
-and he could not withstand the longing of his heart. He would have
-hobbled thither, but suddenly there came the sound of rustling skirt
-and a tiny footfall. It was she--his dark-eyed, dark-haired sweetheart,
-hastening toward him, her face hidden in her hands. One instant more and
-he had torn the hands away and had clasped her to his breast.
-
-“Isabel! darling! I have found you at last! No, you shall not go--you
-shall not until you promise--promise to be my wife!
-
-“O, senor, you cannot--you do not mean it,” she sobbed, Struggling to be
-free.
-
-“Do not mean it! Why, sweet one, you do not dream how I love you--how I
-long for you! Not mean it? Isabel, look in my eyes. Look for yourself.”
- He laughed low and happily. He was brimming over with hope and gladness,
-for now at last without a struggle she nestled on his heart.
-
-Despite his grizzled beard old Rawlins was best man when that strange,
-very quiet, yet very happy wedding came off in the Old Mission Church at
-Tucson early in the spring. Pedro was not there to give the bride away.
-With considerable escort and much reluctance he had traversed “Cutthroat
-Crossing” some months before. He went to Yavapai, and Yavapai--we have
-his own words for it--was “too damn close to 'ell.” The rancho passed
-within the year to other hands. It, too, had taken on another name--a
-grewsome one--_Rancho del Muerto_.
-
-
-
-
-A MIGHTY HUNTER BEFORE THE LORD, By Virginius Dabney.
-
-
-[Illustration: 0066]
-
-
-FIRST PART
-
-
-|THE man unacquainted with the joys of the chase would be surprised if
-told, as he sauntered through some city market, that there was far more
-pleasure in hunting those plump little brown birds hanging in bunches
-around the stalls than in pursuing that imposing beast whose antlers
-reach the pavement. Yet it would be true.
-
-Deer hunting under its usual conditions leaves something, often much, to
-be desired. If a dozen men are placed on isolated “stands” the solitary
-hours of waiting are long and weary. And should you happen to be a tyro
-the knowing ones hide you away in some unlikely spot, where hardly
-by any possibility will the chance come to you of seeing and, in the
-shivers of “buck ague,” missing the game. “Still hunting,” another mode,
-is well named. As a rule it may be depended upon to afford no end of
-stillness, and little else. And to be rowed up by a hired guide on a
-lake to within a few feet of a poor, helpless buck, swimming for dear
-life, and blow out his brains is almost as bad as shooting pheasants in
-an English preserve or poultry in a barnyard. Under all these methods
-deer hunting lacks what is the conspicuous charm of partridge (quail)
-shooting--vivid and continuous excitement.
-
-For, from the moment when you enter, on a sparkling autumn morning, a
-brown stubble field, fresh of limb and eager for the fray, till you limp
-back at sunset, wolfish for dinner, and broken with a delicious fatigue,
-you have not had one dull moment. You may not have been firing steadily;
-the birds may even have been a little scarce; but every instant of the
-day, as you have watched your dogs sweeping to and fro, you have been
-buoyed up by an ever lively hope that the next moment your heart will be
-gladdened by seeing them halt--frozen as it were--in their tracks. Ah,
-there they are! You hurry up, you and your friend, breathing short. Up
-bursts the brown covey, with startling buzz! You bang away--innocuously
-it may be, but no matter, you have made a prodigious noise, at any
-rate--that's some comfort. And see now! The little brown balls have
-dropped into the weeds, one here, one there, along the ditch, and a
-little bunch, all together, in that clump of briars on the hillside.
-Better luck next time!
-
-Still, after all, “Bob White,” for all his bustle, is but a small chap.
-It would take hundreds, nay, bushels of him, to outweigh one “antlered
-monarch.” Toothsome though he be (on toast) he tips the scales at a
-beggarly half pound. On the other hand, it often takes you a week or so
-to get one chance at a deer.
-
-Now, it so happens that it was once my fortune to take part in a deer
-hunt, where the excitement was as continuous as that in a stubble field,
-and, naturally, far more intense. This was years ago, and in Scott
-County, Mississippi, two days' journey on horseback from our plantation.
-
-Every November, as a child, I had eagerly hailed the return from the
-camp hunt of the big four-mule wagon, laden with tents, cooking utensils
-and provisions, and upon which were piled high the noble bucks and sleek
-does. At last, when I had reached the age of sixteen, the longed-for
-permission was granted me, and one crisp, frosty morning my father and I
-mounted our horses and set out for Scott County, followed by Beverly and
-the great covered wagon. Both Beverly and Ned, his whitish-gray saddle
-mule, had their peculiarities, as will appear later.
-
-As we journeyed on we were joined at successive cross roads by others
-of our hunting party, and when we reached the ground we numbered, with
-those already arrived by other routes, about fifteen. The tents were
-soon pitched and a roaring fire of logs six feet long was sending up
-its merry sparks into the starry vault above us. Would supper never be
-ready?
-
-Meanwhile the tents flashed in the fire light, the ruddy glow of which
-battled with the hosts of darkness that advanced upon us under cover
-of the primeval, mysterious forest that surrounded us far and wide. And
-that forest teeming with deer and wolves. Oh, how delightful! And
-my Latin grammar miles and miles away! And dust accumulating on my
-arithmetic!
-
-“Why, where is Billy?”
-
-“Detained by business; he will join us in a day or two.”
-
-“Good! A hunt without Billy Blount is no hunt at all.”
-
-At the mere mention of his name every eye brightened. Mr. Blount had
-more than one peculiarity, all of them pleasant. He was just one of
-those mortals whom mothers in their fatuity christen William. If ever
-there was a man born with an inalienable right to be called Billy it was
-he. A stranger meeting him in the road would know by intuition that that
-was his name. His twinkling eye suggested it. His ruddy brown dimpled
-cheek, his breadth of smile proclaimed it, and when he laughed every
-well-lined rib shouted aloud, “Our name is Billy!”
-
-But he was not with us; so the next best thing was to tell stories of
-his exploits. To these I listened with wide-eyed delight. I will give
-one as a sample. But that it may be understood, it will be necessary
-to show beforehand the very unusual method of hunting that obtained in
-Scott County.
-
-That portion of Mississippi was in those days almost uninhabited and was
-covered by a forest--it would be almost correct to call it a grove--of
-post oaks, beneath which grew waist high underbrush. The oaks which
-covered the ground almost to the exclusion of other trees stood so far
-apart that one had an outlook of perhaps a couple of hundred yards in
-every direction, so that a good rider could gallop in comfort along the
-open spaces. This tree bears a small but sweet nutritious acorn; hence
-the great store of deer that frequented these forests.
-
-Such being the nature of the ground the chase is conducted as follows:
-The hunters throw themselves into a skirmish line at intervals of sixty
-or eighty yards. In the centre rides the leader of the hunt with a
-compass fixed upon the pommel of his saddle. The line advances through
-the woods due north, let us say, for a few hours; then wheels at right
-angle and moves east; then south, then west--back to camp, venison
-steaks and wild turkey; for, in the interests of better fare, it was
-permitted to knock over a gobbler if he were too hospitably saucy to
-get out of the way. The deer were not equally abundant year after year.
-Occasionally it was found that “black tongue” had worked havoc among
-them since the preceding hunt. But they were always numerous enough to
-maintain a continuous and intense glow of expectation in the breast of
-every hunter. As a rule you rode straight ahead, swerving neither to the
-right nor the left, every nerve on the alert, from sunrise till' sunset.
-But if you saw a little out of your path an upturned tree you bent your
-course toward it, your heart in your mouth. I have known as many as
-seven deer to bound forth from the brown-leaved “lap” of one fallen oak.
-But at any moment during the day you were liable to be startled by a
-buck springing up out of the undergrowth, often from beneath the very
-feet of your horse.
-
-Only an inexperienced hunter would ask: “Why not shoot them where they
-lie?” You do not know they are there. The detective eye that can make
-out the form of a deer crouched down on a bed of brown leaves and veiled
-with a fringe of underbrush is given to few. Among these favored ones
-was our friend Billy. It was generally believed in camp that he shot
-most of his game in their beds. Billy himself was at no pains, of
-course, to spread this view. In his highly-illustrated accounts of his
-achievements the quarry was always going like the wind; he had not been
-sure, in fact, what he fired at; he saw a brown flash, that was all;
-banged away, and down came that thumping buck. Never was so surprised in
-his life; thought it was a hawk or something. But this is the story of
-Mr. Jennings, brother of the leader of the hunt: “Blount rides on my
-right, and I don't know how I shall get on without him, even for a day
-or two. However, I may live longer if he is not there, for he sows his
-buckshot broadcast. Three years ago--I never knew the deer so thick as
-they were that season--happening to look in his direction, I saw him
-dismounting with an agility that was surprising considering his 225
-pounds. He halted me with an eager wave of his hand and began advancing
-on tiptoe; every fibre of his vast form tense, his eyes riveted upon
-some object in front, finger on trigger. Barely had he crept forward
-ten yards when up sprang a buck hardly twenty feet in front of him
-and darted to the rear, between Blount and me. Instantly, without once
-removing his eyes from the game upon which he was stealing, he whirled
-his gun to the right and pulled the trigger. The buck passed on, while
-twigs and bark rained on me from the whizzing buckshot. Would you
-believe it?--but you all know him--not a moment did he halt or once
-remove his eyes from whatever it was that had fascinated his gaze in
-front. He still danced forward, light as an Indian, with eyes starting
-from their sockets. Presently up jumps a doe. She, too, bounded to the
-rear, but on Blount's left this time. Again, with his staring eyes
-still glued to the something in front--bang! 'What in the ------ are
-you about?' roared Parrish from Blount's left; 'you will be shooting
-somebody the first thing you know. Here is one of your crazy shot
-through my hat.' To all which our wild man paid not the least attention.
-'Jennings! Jennings! come here! come here! come here! quick! quick!
-quick! For God's sake, man, hurry!'
-
-“I dismounted and ran up to him. 'There! there! give it to him! Good
-Lord, man, can't you see him? There, in that lap!' I strained my eyes
-in vain. I could see nothing. 'Why, don't you see him turning his head?
-He is looking at us! My Lord, Jennings, gimme the gun! gimme the gun!
-gimme the gun!' Just as I did so a noble buck sprang from the lap and
-bounded off. Blount drew down upon him. Bound after bound, and still
-Blount did not fire, though he seemed to be pulling away for dear life
-at the triggers. Presently the deer, passing behind a clump of trees,
-disappeared. I carried my gun at half cock. This Blount did not know or
-remember. He bent both my triggers. Any other man might very well have
-bagged all three deer with such a chance. And what do you suppose he
-then said? 'At any rate, I laid out two of the rascals. Come, Jennings,
-help me find 'em.'”
-
-Dogs were not used on these hunts. Two or three trusty old hounds, it is
-true, hung about the heels of our leader's horse, but they were employed
-only in running down badly-wounded animals. For the first day or so
-these dogs were hard to control, so rich was the scent that met their
-nostrils at every turn; but after the third day they grew too _blasé_ to
-take any interest in any trail not sprinkled with blood. We had a number
-of horn signals. If a gun was heard, followed by a long blast (every man
-wore a horn), the line halted. A deer had been killed in its tracks.
-A second blast indicated that the quarry had been strapped behind the
-saddle of the lucky man; and once more the line moved forward. But if
-three or four short, excited toots, mingled with shouts, rang out upon
-the frosty air, a wounded deer was being pursued, and the leader of the
-hunt galloped up, followed by his little pack, who soon pulled down the
-game.
-
-After all my boasting about the abundance of deer in these post-oak
-forests the reader is, I dare say, prepared to learn that with a party
-of fifteen the spoil of a ten-days hunt would be one thousand head at
-the very least. Great will be his surprise therefore to learn that
-at the close of our first day's hunt we returned to camp without one
-solitary buck or doe to show to our disgusted cooks. Never had the game
-been so scarce, and yet not a man of us all had the same loads in his
-gun with which he had sallied gaily forth full of hope in the morning.
-One fine buck alone had emptied just thirty barrels for us. Flushed on
-the extreme right, he had bounded along in front of the whole line, a
-trifle out of range, perhaps, and each one of us had given him a roaring
-double salute. As the rolling thunder approached me I almost ceased
-to breathe. What were conjugations and declensions and rules of three
-compared with this! It was like a battle, as I have since discovered,
-with the notable difference that our side made all the noise, and the
-deer did not shoot back. But none of us had been able, in the language
-of Mr. Sam Weller's Dick Turpin ditty, to “prewail upon him for to
-stop.” Other shots at other deer all of us had, but we supped on bacon
-that evening.
-
-[Illustration: 0075]
-
-
-SECOND PART
-
-
-|ONE who has never tried the experiment can have no idea how easy it
-is to miss when firing from horseback at a buck who sends your heart
-up into your mouth by springing up from beneath your horse's heels, and
-then speeds away, twisting and turning among the boles of the trees.
-Men who could bring down a partridge with each barrel have been known to
-shoot away half a bag of shot before they began to get the hang of the
-thing.
-
-The shades of evening were falling. Humiliating though it was, we had
-fallen, too, with a will on our gameless supper.
-
-“S-t! Listen! What's that?”
-
-We pricked up our ears. Presently there came softly echoing from far
-away in the forest a long-drawn cry, ringing, melodious, clear as a
-bugle call.
-
-“Billy!”
-
-The welkin rang with our joyous shouts. Half our party sprang to their
-feet and red-hot coffee splashed from tin cups. “Hurrah!”
-
-“Marse Billy got the keenest holler I ever hear!” chuckled Beverly.
-“Bound he fetch luck 'long wid him! No mo' bacon for supper arter dis.”
-
-We craned our necks to catch the first glimpse of our mascot. Obviously,
-from the direction of the joyous yells with which he answered our
-welcoming shouts, he had abandoned the road and was riding straight
-through the open woods. Presently we descried through the deepening
-twilight his portly form looming up atop a tall gray. Then two vivid
-flashes and two loud reports, followed by a mad rush of the gray, which
-came tearing down on us in wild terror, and for a minute we were treated
-to something like an amateur episode from one of Mr. Buffalo Bill's
-entertainments. Amid roars of laughing welcome the ponderous knight was
-at last helped down from his trembling steed, whose bridle Beverly had
-been able luckily to snatch as he floundered among the tent ropes.
-
-“And where the deuce did you pick up that wild beast? Surely you can't
-expect to shoot from him!”
-
-“Oh, I'll cool him down in a day or two; he'll soon get used to it.”
-
-In point of fact a horse who dreads a gun gets more and more terror
-stricken as the hunt goes on, the mere sight of a deer, the cocking of
-a gun even, sufficing to set him off into plungings that grow day by day
-more violent. This none should have known better than Blount; for never,
-by any chance, did he ride to the hunt with an animal that would “stand
-fire.” The discharge of his gun, the rise of a buck even, was always the
-opening of a circus with him. But he managed invariably to let off both
-barrels--one perhaps through the tree tops, the other into the ground.
-In one particular alone was he provident. He brought always so immense
-a supply of ammunition that toward the close of the hunt his tent was a
-supply magazine to the less thoughtful.
-
-“What!” exclaimed Blount, “not a single one! Ah! boys, that was because
-I was not with you.” The jovial soul had not a trace of conceit; he was
-merely sanguine--contagiously, gloriously, magnificently sanguine.
-
-“Ah, but won't we knock 'em over tomorrow!” And straightway we lifted up
-our hearts and had faith in this prophet of pleasant things.
-
-“Beverly, will that mule Ned stand fire?”
-
-“I dunno, Marse Billy; nobody ain't nebber tried him. But I 'spec' you
-wouldn't ax him no odds.”
-
-“I'll go and have a look at him.”
-
-Shortly afterward we heard two tremendous explosions, followed by a
-frenzied clatter of hoofs and the sound of breaking branches, and up
-there came, running and laughing, a Monsieur Wynen, a Belgian violinist,
-a real artist, who was one of our party (though never a trigger did he
-pull during the entire hunt).
-
-“What's the matter?”
-
-Wynen was first violin in an opera troupe.
-
-“It is only Blount rehearsing Ned.”
-
-Any man in the world except Blount would have tested that demure wheel
-mule's views as to firearms by firing off his gun in his neighborhood as
-he stood tethered. Not so Billy. Mounting the guileless and unsuspecting
-Ned, and casting the reins upon his bristly neck, he had let drive.
-
-Shocked beyond expression by the dreadful roar and flash (it was now
-night) Ned had made a mad rush through the woods. In vain; for
-Blount had a good seat. Then had there come into Ned's wily brain the
-reminiscence of a trick that he had never known to fail in thirty years.
-He stopped suddenly, still as a gate post, at the same time bracing his
-vertebrae into the similitude of a barrel hoop, and instantly Blount lay
-sprawling upon his jolly back; and there was a second roar, followed by
-a rush of buckshot among the leaves and around the legs of the audience
-that was watching the rehearsal. “Never mind, Jack,” said he to me,
-shortly afterward, “I'll find something that will stand fire” and
-throwing his arm around my shoulder for a confidential talk of the
-slaughter he was to do on the morrow, his sanguine soul bubbled into my
-sympathetic ear:
-
-“I say, Jack, don't tell the boys; but I have got two bags of shot. They
-would laugh, of course. Now, how many ought a fellow to bring down with
-two bags? I mean a cool-headed chap who does not lose his head. How
-does one dozen to the bag strike you? Reasonable? H'm? Of course.
-Twenty-four, then. Well, let us say twenty-five, just to round off
-things. Golly! Why, nine is the highest score I ever made. Twenty-five!
-Why, that is a quarter of a hundred. Did you notice that? Whee-ew! The
-boys will stop bedeviling me after that, h'm? I should say so. Not a
-rascal of them all ever killed so many. Cool and steady, that's the
-thing, my boy. Up he jumps! What of that? Don't be flustered, I tell
-you. Count ten. Then lower your gun. There is not the least hurry in the
-world. Drop the muzzle on his side, just behind his shoulder. Steady!
-Let him think you are not after deer this morning. If it is a doe let it
-appear that you are loaded for buck. Bang! Over he tumbles in his
-tracks. You load up and are off again. Up hops another--a beauty. Same
-tactics--boo-doo-ee! Got him! What's the sense of throwing away your
-shot? Costs money--delays the line. Cool--cool and steady--that's the
-word, my boy. Get any shots to-day? Three? Hit anything?”
-
-It was too dark for him to see how pale I went at this question. “Mr.
-Blount,” said I, with a choking in my throat (nobody could help telling
-the big-hearted fellow everything), “you won't tell my father, will
-you?”
-
-“Tell him what?”
-
-“Well, you see, he cautioned me over and over again never, under
-any circumstances, to fire at a deer that ran toward a neighboring
-huntsman.”
-
-“Of course not--never!” echoed Blount with conviction.
-
-“And to-day--and to-day, when I was not thinking of such a thing, a big
-buck jumped up from right under my horse's belly, and did you notice
-that gray-headed old gentleman by the fire? Well, the buck rushed
-straight toward him--and I forgot all about what my father had said and
-banged away.”
-
-“Did you pepper him?” put in Billy eagerly.
-
-“Pepper him!”
-
-“I mean the buck.”
-
-“I don't know, he went on.”
-
-“They will do it, occasionally, somehow.”
-
-“When I saw the leaves raining down on the old gentleman, my heart
-stopped beating. You will not tell my father?”
-
-“Pshaw! There was no harm done. We must trust to Providence in these
-matters. What did the old gentleman say?”
-
-“Not a word; it was his first campaign, too. His eyes were nearly
-popping out of his head. He let off both barrels. The shot whistled
-around me!”
-
-“The old fool! He ought to know better. To-morrow your father must put
-you next to me.”
-
-Blount brought us hilarity and hope, but no luck, at any rate at first.
-When we rode slowly into camp on the following day, just as the sun went
-down, we had one solitary doe to show. Blount--Blount of all men--had
-killed it. The servants hung it up on one of the poles that remained
-from year to year stretched against the neighboring trees.
-
-Owing to Blount's weight his game was always strapped behind some less
-lucky huntsman; so we had had no opportunity of examining his riddled
-quarry.
-
-“Why, how is this?” exclaimed he. “Oh, I remember; the other side was
-toward me.”
-
-We went around to the other side. Had the doe died of fright? After
-much searching we found one bullet hole just behind the shoulder. Blount
-always put four extra bullets into his load. So he had showered down
-forty buckshot upon a doe lying in her bed at a distance of twenty feet
-and struck her with one.
-
-“I say, Jack, for the Lord's sake don't tell the boys!”
-
-After these two days our luck improved, and at the end of the hunt our
-score reached seventy-eight; the smallest number, by the way, that the
-club had ever killed. It would hardly be interesting to go into the
-details of each day's sport, but our hero's adventures one night seem
-worth recording. To this joyous and indefatigable spirit the day was all
-too short. No sooner had he eaten his supper each day than he began to
-importune the younger men of the party to join him in a “fire hunt;”
- but, as they were not Blounts, they felt that a long day in the saddle
-was enough. In his despair Blount turned to Beverly. That amiable
-creature, not knowing how to refuse the request of a white gentmun,
-assented, but with a quaking heart, for were not the surrounding forests
-swarming with ravenous wolves? He had often lain awake and listened
-complacently enough to their howling, but to trust, to thrust, himself
-wantonly among them at dead of night!
-
-“Wid nobody along but Marse Billy Blount, an' he couldn't hit nothin',
-even by daylight, onless dey asleep. He hear 'em say wolf 'fraid o'
-fire. Maybe he is. But lights draws dem wild varmints, an' 'sposin'
-arter a whole congregation un 'em done come up starin' at de light;
-'sposin' somehow or nuther de torch got out--whar Beverly den? Marse
-Billy got de gun; but whar Beverly? Ain't I hear people say wolf more
-ambitiouser for nig-gar dan for sheep meat? Howsomever, ef my own
-mahster willin' to resk losin' of me, I can stand it, I reckon. But Tom,
-ef you should wake up, and hear something coming through de bresh like a
-drove o' steers, you needn't ax what dat; it's me and de wolves a-makin'
-for camp; an' me in the lead, wid de help o' de Laud.” Sitting in front
-of the blazing logs and chatting with his fellow cooks, Beverly could
-see the humor of his quite real fears.
-
-Behold, then, the burly knight and his dusky and not over-valiant squire
-setting forth in quest of adventure--the one mounted on his tall gray,
-the other astraddle of Ned. It appears incredible that any man in his
-senses would take two such ani-malson such an expedition, but there
-never was but one Blount. Beverly carried the gun, his chief the torch,
-consisting of “lightwood” knots blazing in the bowl of a long-handled
-frying pan. The handle, resting on the right shoulder, was held
-somewhat depressed, so that the light should shine above the head of
-the huntsman, illumining the woods in his front. The sportsman, slowly
-waving the handle to and fro, peers intently into the darkness in quest
-of the gleaming eyes of some staring buck.
-
-Presently a dismal howl from far away to the right came stealing through
-the silence. And presently an answering cry from the left, and much
-nearer. And another, and another! _Ugh! what was that?_ A rabbit had
-darted under Ned, across the rattling leaves. Beverly, shivering, dug
-his heels into Ned's ribs. Ned pressed forward till his nose touched
-the ticklish flank of the gray. The gray let fly with whizzing hoof. Ned
-shut his eyes, unwilling to witness the enormity of an aged mule being
-kicked at by torchlight.
-
-“Beverly! Beverly!” breathed the knight eagerly, “gimme the gun! gimme
-the gun! I see a pair of eyes as big as saucers!”
-
-“M--M--Marse B--B--Billy------------”
-
-“Quick! gimme the gun! What the devil is the matter with you?”
-
-“De wolves, Marse Billy! 'Sposin' arter de gun done empty dey splunge in
-upon us? I bound a whole nation un 'em watchin' us dis minute!”
-
-Blount wrested the gun from the reluctant Beverly, whose knee now
-trembled against his. Pressing down the pan handle so as to throw the
-light well in front, he cocked the gun, adjusted it to his shoulder,
-took aim, and pulled the trigger.
-
-Blount, in reply to the warning of his friends, had urged that it
-might very well be that a horse that shied by day at a gun would act
-differently at night. And he was right. By daylight the gray was in the
-habit of making one or two violent plunges when his rider fired. But
-tonight, when that terrible roar broke the stillness and that fierce
-blaze flashed into his eyes----
-
-Immediately after the sound of the gun reached us we heard the anxious,
-jolting bray of a trotting mule. The disjointed, semi-asinine song came
-nearer, and presently Ned hurried past the fire to his place by his
-tethered mate, with a low equine chuckle of satisfaction. In his wake
-rushed Beverly, panting, wide eyed. It was a full minute before he could
-speak.
-
-“Lord, mahsters, don't ax me nothin'; I don't know nothin' 'bout it.
-I 'most don't know whether I here or no arter de way dem revengious
-varmints whoop me through dem woods, a-yelpin' an' a-gnash-in' o' deir
-teeth. B'fo' Gaud, I thought every minute was gwine to be my next! When
-Marse Billy shoot, though I beg him not to, seein' dat de whole woods
-was a-bilin' wid wolves, dat fool of a horse o' hisn jess riz on
-his hind legs an' splunge right over me an' Ned, jess like we warn't
-nothin't all. Dem lightwood knots flew right up, same as one o' dem
-blaze o' glories I see when I got religion. I lit on my head. Ned he
-went oneway; Marse Billy horse anudder. But seein' as I done knowed
-Ned de longest, I followed him--an' he fotch me home. Run? No, twarnt
-runnin', twas flyin'; an' every jump de varmints was a-reachin' for me.
-I hear deir teeth, jess as plain, clashin' like sheep shears. Umgh-umgh!
-Beverly hump heself he did. Jess look at my clothes! I left de rest
-of 'em on de bushes. Whar Marse Billy? Lord a-mussy, I dunno! I mighty
-'fraid de wolves done got him, leastwise ef he didn't set hard on dat
-dere fool gray.
-
-“Mahster, couldn't you gimme jess a leetle tetch o' dat whiskey? I'se
-powerful downhearted. Thank you, mahster. But mahster, don't lemme go
-no mo' a spotin' along o' Marse Billy; seem like I ain't dat kind. Lemme
-drive my mules, lemme cook, don't lemme go projickin' about wid Marse
-Billy Blount no mo'. You laughin', is you, Tom? Nemmind--you go next
-time!”
-
-Presently there came to us from far away a doleful yell, with nothing
-of the bugle blast in it. “There he is!” and we made response with
-laughter-choked shouts.
-
-About fifteen minutes afterward the sound of hoofs was heard, and
-presently our mighty hunter appeared, but _quantum mutatus ab illo!_ No
-hat, no gun, one skirt of his coat and half of the buttons gone; shirt
-bosom torn out, trousers hanging in ribbons! But though his face was
-scratched beyond recognition he remained the one, only true Blount in
-the world; though his eyes were bloodshot they beamed with conscious
-victory.
-
-“Boys,” said he, “which of you will go and help me bring him in?”
-
-“Bring what in?”
-
-“Why, the buck--I blew his infernal head off, sure!”
-
-Next morning Blount and Beverly rode to the scene of their exploit, and
-Blount secured his gun and Beverly his frying pan. 'The buck had either
-walked off without his head or been swallowed by one of the varmints.
-
-
-
-
-A CAHUTTA VALLEY SHOOTING MATCH, By Will N. Harben
-
-
-[Illustration: 9087]
-
-HERE was a sound of merriment on Farmer Bagley's place. It was “corn
-shucking” night, and the young people from all sides had met to partake
-of mirth and hospitality. After all had taken seats in the large sitting
-room and parlor, the men were invited with a mysterious wink and grin
-from the countenance of jovial Bagley to taste the contents of a large
-brown jug which smiled on a shelf beside the water bucket out in the
-entry. Its saturated corn-cob stopper, lying whiskey colored in the
-moonlight by the side of the jug, gave a most tempting aroma to the
-crisp, invigorating November air and rendered Bagley's signs and hints
-all the more comprehensible.
-
-They were mostly young men who, with clattering boots, filed out to the
-shelf and turned, with smacking lips wiped on their hands, back to the
-clusters of shy, tittering maidens round the blazing log fires. They
-wore new jean trousers neatly folded round muscular calves and stowed
-away, without a visible wrinkle, into high, colored-topped boots with
-sharp, brightly-polished heels, upon which were strapped clanking spurs.
-Their sack coats, worn without vests over low-necked woolen shirts,
-fitted their strong bodies admirably.
-
-Dick Martin, a tall, well-built young man with marked timidity in his
-voice, considerably augmented by the brightness of Melissa Bagley's
-eyes, drew near that young lady and said:
-
-“Yore pap has certainly got some o' the best corn licker in this county,
-Melissa; it liter'ly sets a feller on fire.”
-
-“Be ashamed, Dick Martin!” she answered, with a cautious glance around
-her as if she feared that someone would observe the flush that had
-risen into her pretty face as he approached. “Be ashamed o' yorese'f fur
-techin' licker; last log-rollin' you 'lowed you'd tuk yore last dram.
-Paw ort to be churched fur settin' temptation 'fore so many young men.
-Ef I had my way the' wouldn't be a still, wild cat nur licensed, in the
-Co-hutta Mountains nowhar.”
-
-“Shucks, Melissa!” exclaimed Dick. “Don't git yore dander up 'bout
-nothin'. I'm that anxious to git yore pap on my side I'd drink slop,
-mighty high, ef he 'uz to ax me. He don't like me, an' blame me ef I
-know why, nuther. I ain't been here in the last three Sunday nights
-'thout him a-callin' you to bed most 'fore dark. He didn't raise no
-objections to Bill Miller a-stayin' tell 'leven o'clock last Tuesday
-night. Oh, I ain't blind to hurt! Bill owns his own land and I havn't
-a shovelful; thar's the difference. He's a-comin' now, but mind you I'm
-agwine to set by you at shuckin'.”
-
-The bright flush which had added such beauty to the girl's face vanished
-as Bill Miller swaggered up and said with a loud voice, as he roughly
-shook her hand:
-
-“Meliss', kin I wait on you at shuckin'?”
-
-“Dick's jest this minute axed me,” she stammered, beginning to blush
-anew.
-
-“Well, he ain't axed to set on both sides uv you, I reckon. You'd be a
-uncommon quar pusson ef the' wuz jest one side to you. What's to keep me
-frum settin' on tother side frum Dick?”
-
-To this the farmer's daughter made no reply, and as the guests were now
-starting to the barnyard she was escorted between the two rivals to the
-great coneshaped heap of unhusked corn gleaming in the pale moonlight.
-
-“All keep yore feet an' form a ring round the pile!” called out Bagley,
-so as to be overheard above the sound of their voices. “The' ain't no
-r'al fun 'thout everything is conducted fa'r and squar'. Now” (as all
-the merrymakers stood hand in hand round the corn heap, Dick with one of
-Melissa's hands in his tight clasp and his rival with the other)--“now,
-all march round an' somebody start 'King William Wuz King James' Son,'
-an' when I tell you to halt set down right whar' you are. I'm a-doin'
-this 'kase at Wade's last week some fellers hid red yeers o' corn nigh
-the'r places an' wuz etarnally a-kissin' o' the gals, which ain't fa'r
-nur decent. The rule on this occasion shall be as common, in regard to
-the fust feller that finds a red yeer o'corn bein' 'lowed to kiss any
-gal he likes, but atter that one time--understand everybody--atter
-that no bussin' kin take place, red yeer ur no red yeer. I advocate
-moderation in all things, especially whar' a man an' woman's mouth is
-con-sarned.”
-
-While the musical tones of the familiar song were rising, and the straw
-beneath the feet of the human chain was rustling, Bagley called aloud
-the word: “Halt!” and all sat down immediately and went to work with
-a will. Song after song was sung. The hard, pearly silk-tipped ears of
-corn flew through the air and rained into the crib near at hand, and
-billows of husks rolled up behind the eager workers and were raked away
-by negroes who were not permitted to take part in the sport.
-
-“Here's a red un, by hunky!” yelled out a sunburnt, downy-faced youth,
-standing up and holding aloft a small ear of blood-red corn.
-
-“Hold on thar!” shouted Bagley in commanding tones. “The rules must be
-enforced to the letter. Jim Lash, ef yore yeer measures full six inches
-ye're the lucky man, but ef it falls short o' that size its a nubbin an'
-don't count.”
-
-An eager group encircled the young man, but soon a loud laugh rose and
-they all fell back into their places, for the ear had proved to be only
-five inches in length.
-
-“Not yit, Jimmy Lash; not yit,” grunted Dick Martin, as he raked an
-armful of unhusked corn into his and Melissa's laps. Then to Melissa
-in an undertone: “Ef wishin' 'u'd do any good, I'd be the fust to run
-acrost one, fur, by jingo! the' ain't a livin' man, Melissa, that could
-want it as bad as I do with you a-settin' so handy. By glory! [aloud]
-here she is, as red as sumac an' as long as a rollin' pin. The Lord be
-praised!” He had risen to his feet and stood holding up the trophy for
-Bagley's inspection, fairly aglow with triumph and exercise.
-
-The rustling in the corn husks ceased. All eyes were directed upon
-the erect forms of Dick Martin and Farmer Bagley. The clear moonlight
-revealed an unpleasant expression on the older man's face in vivid
-contrast to the cast of the younger's. Bagley seemed rather slow to form
-a decision; all present suspected the cause of his hesitation.
-
-“Fair's fair, Bagley!” called out an old farmer outside of the circle.
-“Don't belittle yorese'f by 'lowin' anything o' a personal natur' to
-come in an' influence you ag'in right. Dick Martin's the fust an' is
-entitled to the prize.”
-
-“Yore right, Wilson,” admitted Bagley, with his eyes downcast. “Dick
-Martin is the winner an' kin proceed; howsomever, thar's some things
-that----”
-
-               Salute yore bride an' kiss her sweet,
-
-               Now you may rise upon yore feet!
-
-sang the leader of the singers, completely drowning the remainder of
-Bagley's sentence. As quick as a flash of lightning Dick had thrown his
-arm round struggling Melissa and imprinted a warm kiss on her lips. Then
-the workers applauded vociferously, and Melissa sat, suffused with
-crimson, between sullen Bill Miller and beaming Dick Martin. Bagley
-showed plainly that Dick's action and the applause of all had roused his
-dislike for Dick even deeper than ever.
-
-“I'm knowed to be a man o' my word,” he fumed, white in the face and
-glancing round the ring of upturned faces. “I'm firm as firm kin be,
-I mought say as the rock o' Bralty, when I take a notion. I've heerd a
-leetle o' the talk in this settlement 'mongst some o' the meddlin' sort,
-an' fur fear this leetle accident mought add to the'r tattle I'd jest
-like to remark that ef thar's a man on the top side o' the earth that
-knows what's to be done with his own flesh an' blood it ort to be me.
-What's been the talk ain't so, not a speck of it. I've got somethin' to
-say to----”
-
-“Paw!” expostulated Melissa, almost crying.
-
-“Mr. Bagley--I say, Abrum Bagley, don't make a born fool o' yorese'f,”
- broke in Mrs. Bagley, as she waddled into the circle and laid her hand
-heavily upon her husband's arm. “Now, folks, it's about time you wuz
-gittin' somethin' warm into you. You kin finish the pile atter you've
-eat. Come on, all hands, to the house!”
-
-A shadow of mortification fell athwart Dick's honest face as soon as
-Bagley had spoken. His sensitive being was wounded to the core. As he
-and Melissa walked back to the farm house together, Bill Miller having
-dropped behind to gossip with someone over Bagley's remarks, he was
-silent, and timid Melissa was too shy to break the silence, although it
-was very painful to her.
-
-Reaching the entrance to the farm house, Dick held back and refused to
-enter with the others.
-
-“Ain't you gwine to come in an' have some supper?” Melissa asked,
-pleadingly.
-
-“I ain't a-goin' narry nuther step. Anything cooked in this house would
-stick in my throat atter what's been said. He struck me a underhanded
-lick. I won't force myse'f on 'im nur to his table.”
-
-“I think you mought, bein' as I axed you,” said she tremblingly, as she
-shrank into the honeysuckle vines that clung to the latticework of the
-entry.
-
-“No, blame me ef I do!” he answered firmly. “I'm of as good stock as
-anybody in this county; nobody cayn't run no bull yearlin' dry shod over
-me.”
-
-All Melissa could do could not induce him to join the others in the
-dining room, and when he walked angrily away she ran into her own room,
-and sitting down in the darkness alone she burst into a flood of tears.
-After supper the guests repaired again to the corn heap, but Melissa was
-not among them, and the spirits of all seemed somewhat dampened.
-
-After that night Dick Martin and Melissa Bagley did not meet each other
-for several days. However, on the Sunday following the corn shucking, as
-Melissa was returning from meeting through the woods alone, the very one
-who was uppermost in her troubled mind joined her. He emerged from the
-thick-growing bushes which skirted her path, with a very pale face and
-unhappy mien.
-
-“I jest couldn't wait another minute, Melissa,” he said, standing
-awkwardly before her, “not ef I had to be shot fur it.”
-
-“Paw's mighty stubborn an' contrary when he takes a notion,” she said,
-with hanging head and an embarrassed kick of her foot at a tuft of
-grass. “I think he mought let me alone. You ain't the only one he hates.
-Thar's ol' man Lawson; law, he hates him wuss'n canker! I heerd 'im say
-tother day ef somebody 'u'd jest beat Lawson shootin' next match he'd be
-his friend till death. He ain't never got over his lawsuit with Lawson
-over the sheep our dog killed. Paw fit it in court through three terms,
-an' then had to give in an' settle the claim an' all the costs besides.
-It mighty nigh broke im. Fur the last five years Lawson has driv home
-the prize beef from the fall match, an' every time paw jest fairly
-shakes with madness over it.”
-
-When Dick left Melissa at the bars in sight of her house and turned
-toward his home a warm idea was tingling in his brain, and by the time
-he had reached his father's cottage he was fairly afire with it. The
-shooting match was to take place in a month--what was to prevent him
-from taking part in it? He had an excellent rifle, and had done some
-good shooting at squirrels. Perhaps if he would practice a good deal
-he might win. Lawson was deemed the best marksman in all the Cohutta
-valleys, and frequently it had been hard to get anyone to enter a match
-against him. Dick at last decided to enter the forthcoming match at
-all events. He went into his cottage and took down his rifle from its
-deer-horn rack over the door. While he was eyeing the long, rusty barrel
-critically his old mother entered.
-
-“Fixin' fur a hunt, Dick? Thar's a power o' pa'tridges in the sage
-field down the hollar. A rifle ain't as good fur that sort o' game as a
-shotgun; suppose you step over an' ax Hanson to loan you his'n?”
-
-“I jest 'lowed I'd shine this un up a bit bein' as it's Sunday an' I
-hate to be idle,” he answered, evasively, as he seated himself at the
-wide fireplace with a pan of grease and a piece of cloth and rubbed his
-gun barrel until it fairly shone in the firelight. The next morning he
-threw it over his shoulder and, taking an axe in his hand, he started
-toward the woods.
-
-“Didn't know but I mought find a bee tree somers,” he said sheepishly,
-as he saw his mother looking wonderingly at the axe. “Not likely, but
-I mought, thar's no tellin', though the darn little varmints do keep
-powerful close hid this time o' year.”
-
-He went over the hills and through the tangled woods until he came to
-a secluded old field. He singled out a walnut tree near its centre, and
-going to it he cut a square white spot in the bark with his axe. It is
-needless to detail all that took place there that day, or on other days
-following it. For the first week the earnest fellow would return from
-this spot each afternoon with a very despondent look upon him. As time
-passed, however, and his visits to the riddled tree grew more frequent
-his face began to grow brighter.
-
-Once his mother came suddenly upon him as he stood in the cottage before
-the open door with his rifle placed in position for firing. He lowered
-his gun with a deep blush.
-
-“I 'us jest a tryin' to see how long I could keep the sight on that shiny
-spot out thar in the field without flinchin'. Blame me, ef you hadn't
-come in I believe I could a helt her thar tell it thundered.”
-
-“Dick,” said the old woman, with a deep breath, “what on earth has got
-in you here lately? Are you gwine plump stark crazy 'bout that old gun?
-You never tuk on that way before.”
-
-“I've jest found out I'm purty good on a shot, that's all,” he replied,
-evasively.
-
-“Well,” said she, “as fur as that's concerned, in old times our stock
-was reckoned to be the best marksmen in our section. You ort to be; yore
-narrer 'twixt the eyes, an' that's a shore sign.”
-
-Dick caught a glimpse of Melissa now and then, and managed to exchange
-a few words with her occasionally, the nature of which we will not
-disclose. It may be said, however, that she was always in good spirits,
-which puzzled her father considerably, for he was at a loss to see why
-she should be so when Dick had not visited her since the night of the
-corn shucking. Moreover, she continually roused her father's anger by
-speaking frequently of the great honor that belonged to Farmer Lawson
-for so often Winning the prizes in the shooting matches.
-
-“Dang it, Melissa, dry up!” he exclaimed, boiling with anger, “you know
-I hate that daddrated man. I'd fling my hat as high as the moon ef some
-o' these young bucks 'u'd beat him this fall; he's as full o' brag as a
-lazy calf is with fleas.”
-
-“No use a hopin' fur anything o' that sort, paw; Lawson's too old a
-han'. He ain't got his equal at shootin' ur lawin.' The whole country
-couldn't rake up a better one.” After speaking in this manner she would
-stifle a giggle by holding her hand over her mouth until she was livid
-in the face, and escape from her mystified parent, leaving him to vent
-his spleen on the empty air.
-
-The day of the annual shooting match drew near. It was not known who
-were to be the participants aside from Lawson, for the others usually
-waited till the time arrived to announce their intentions. No better
-day could have been chosen. The sky was blue and sprinkled with frothy
-clouds, and the weather was not unpleasantly cold. Women and men, boys,
-girls and children from all directions were assembled to witness the
-sport and were seated in chairs and wagons all over the wide, open
-space.
-
-Melissa was there in a cluster of girls, and her father was near by in
-a group of men, all of whom--like himself--disliked the blustering,
-boasting Lawson and fondly hoped that someone would beat him on this
-occasion. Lawson stood by himself, with a confident smile on his face.
-His rifle butt rested on the grass and his hands were folded across each
-other on the end of his gun barrel.
-
-“Wilks,” said he to the clerk of the county court, who had been chosen
-as referee for the occasion, “git up yore list o' fellers that are bold
-enough to shoot agin the champion. I reckon my nerves are 'bout as they
-wuz six yeer ago when I fust took my stan' here to larn this settlement
-how to shoot.”
-
-Just before the list of aspirants was read aloud Dick managed to reach
-Melissa's side unobserved by her father.
-
-“Did you keep yore promise 'bout cut-tin' my patchin' fur me?” he asked
-in a whisper.
-
-With trembling fingers she drew from her pocket several little pieces
-of white cotton cloth about the size of a silver quarter of a dollar and
-gave them to him.
-
-“They're jest right to a gnat's heel,” he said, warmly. “A ball packed
-in one o' them'll go straight ur I'm no judge.”
-
-“Dick,” whispered she, looking him directly in the eyes, “you ain't a
-bit flustered. I believe you'll win.”
-
-With a smile Dick turned away and joined the crowd round the referee's
-chair, and when his name was called a moment later among the names of
-four others he brought his rifle from a wagon and stood in view of
-the crowd. The first applause given that day was accorded him, for in
-addition to its being his first appearance in a shooting match he was
-universally popular.
-
-“Bully fur you, Dick; here's my han' wishing you luck!” said a
-cheery-voiced farmer, shaking Dick's hand.
-
-“It's the way with all these young strips,” said Lawson in a loud,
-boastful tone. “Gwine to conquer the whole round world. He'll grin on
-tother side o' his mouth when Bettie, the lead queen, barks and spits in
-the very centre o' that spot out yander.”
-
-A feeble murmur of admiration greeted this vaunting remark, but it
-quickly subsided as the crowd noted that Dick Martin did not reply even
-by so much as to raise his eyes from the inspection of his gun. The
-referee called for order.
-
-“Jim Baker,” said he, “be so kind as to drive round yore stall-fed
-heifer. Ladies an' gentlemen [as a man emerged from a group of wagons
-and drove a fine-looking young cow into the open space], here's a heifer
-in fine enough order to make any man's eyes sore to look. Fifteen round
-dollars has been paid in, by the five men who are to burn powder
-to-day, $3 apiece, an' the man whose shootin' iron can fling lead
-the straightest on this occasion is entitled to the beef and the
-championship o' this valley till next fall. Now, Mr. Baker, lead out
-yore cow, an' the shooters will please form in a line.”
-
-When the aspirants stood in front of him the referee continued:
-
-“Here is five pieces o' straw, all different lengths. The man who gets
-the shortest one shoots fust, the next longest next, an' so on till
-you've all had yore crack.”
-
-Passing the straws to the riflemen, and af ter they had drawn one each
-from his tightly closed hands, he ordered a man to set up the target--a
-planed plank, about one foot in width and six in length, with a round
-marked spot about three inches in diameter, near the top.
-
-“I'd willin'ly give my chance o' oats to have some o' them boys knock
-the stuffin' clean out'n Lawson; he's that stuck up he cayn't hardly
-walk,” said Bagley, his anger intensified by observing the sneering
-smile on Lawson's face.
-
-“I'm mighty afeard,” said the man to whom Bagley was speaking, “that
-Dick Martin 'll lose his $3. I never heerd o' him bein' any han' with a
-gun.”
-
-To this Bagley offered no reply. In his hatred for Lawson, and at such a
-time he had no thought to give to Dick.
-
-“All ready!” rang out the voice of the referee. “Bob Ransom gits the
-first pull at trigger to-day.”
-
-Silence fell on the crowd as the tall, slender young man stepped forth
-and stood with his left foot on a line cut in the grass exactly 100
-yards from the tree against which the yellow board with its single eye
-leaned in the sunbeams. Not a whisper escaped the motionless assembly as
-the young man slowly brought his weapon into position. “Crack!” sounded
-the rifle out of a balloon-shaped cloud of blue smoke.
-
-“Missed centre, board, tree an' all!” cried out Bagley, in a tone of
-deep regret.
-
-“I seed yore lead plough up the dirt away out tother side; it's powerful
-hard to hold a steady han' when you are fust called on.”
-
-“Next is Taylor Banks!” announced the referee; and as a middle-aged man
-advanced and toed the mark, Lawson was heard to say, with a loud laugh;
-“Fust one missed the tree; you folks on the left out thar 'u'd better
-set back fur-der; no tellin' who Banks 'll hit, fur he's a-tremblin'
-like so much jelly.”
-
-“Hit about three inches due north o' the spot,” called out the referee,
-as the smoke rose from the peering marksman. “I'm afraid, Tayl', that
-somebody 'll come nigher than that when the pinch comes. Joe Burk is the
-next, an' I'll take occasion to say here that I know of no man in all
-this mountain country that is more prompt to pay his taxes.”
-
-“Crack!” A universal bending of necks to get the target in better view
-and a rolling billow of voices in the crowd.
-
-“A inch an' a half below the spot!” proclaimed the referee. “Why,
-friends, what ails you all? This ain't nigh such shootin' as we had last
-fall. Too many women present, I reckon. Ladies, if you'll cover up yore
-faces maybe the next two will do better. The straws say that Abraham
-Lawson has the next whack. Lawson, make yore bow.”
-
-The champion of the settlement stepped into view with a haughty strut,
-dragging his rifle butt on the ground and swinging his broad-brimmed
-hat carelessly in his hand. Turning to a negro behind him as he took his
-place, he said so that all could hear:
-
-“Tobe, git yore rope ready an' stan' over thar nigh the beef. When you
-git 'er home turn 'er in the pastur'. Ef this thing goes on year atter
-year I'll start a cattle ranch an' quit farmin'.”
-
-“Dang his hide!” exclaimed Bagley to Melissa, who was very pale and
-quite speechless. “Dang it, I'd lay this here right arm on any man's
-meat block an' give 'im leave to chop it off ef he'd jest git beat. He's
-that spiled flies is on 'im.”
-
-Lawson's hat was now on the grass at his feet and he had deliberately
-raised his brightly-polished weapon to his broad shoulder. The sun
-glittered on the long steel tube. The silence for an instant was so
-profound that the birds could be heard singing in the woods and the
-cawing of the crows in the corn fields near by sounded harsh to the ear.
-For an instant the sturdy champion stood as if molded in metal, his
-long hair falling over his gun stock, against which his tanned cheek was
-closely pressed. Not a sound passed the lips of the assembly, and when
-the rifle report came it sent a twinge to many a heart.
-
-“Dang it!” ejaculated Lawson, as he lowered his gun and peered through
-the rising smoke toward the target. “I felt a unsteady quiver tech me
-jest as I pulled the trigger.”
-
-“About half an inch from the very centre o' the mark. Yore ahead. Nobody
-is likely to come up to you, Lawson,” said the referee. “The' ain't but
-one more.”
-
-“I don't keer,” replied Lawson. “I know the cow's mine; but I did want
-to come up to my record. I walked too fast over here an' it made me
-unsteady.”
-
-“The next an' last candidate for glory,” said the referee, “is Dick
-Martin. No cheerin', friends, it ain't been give to the others and you
-oughtn't to show partiality. Besides, it might excite him, an' he needs
-all the nerve he's got.”
-
-Bagley was still at Melissa's side. He had his eyes too intently fixed
-on the stalwart form of Dick Martin and the young man's pale, determined
-visage to note that his daughter had covered her pale face with her
-cold, trembling hands and bowed her head.
-
-“By Jinks! he's the coolest cucumber that's lifted shootin' iron
-to-day,” said Bagley under his breath. “Ef he beats Lawson dagg me if I
-don't give him a dance in my barn an' invite every man, woman an' child
-in the whole valley.” With his left foot on the mark and his right
-thrown back easily, as if he were taking a step forward, and his
-well-formed body bent slightly toward the target, Dick stood motionless,
-sighting along his gun barrel at the target. Then, to the surprise of
-all, he raised his gun until it pointed to the top of the tree against
-which the target leaned. Here a gentle sigh, born from the union of half
-surprise and half disappointment, swept over the crowd as low as the
-whisper of a breeze through a dry foliaged tree. The sigh died away and
-intense silence claimed the moment, for the gun's point was sweeping
-rapidly downward. Hardly a second did it pause in a line with the
-target's centre before the report came, putting every breast in sudden
-motion. The marker's eyes saw a clean splinter fly from the very centre
-of the round.
-
-“The beef is won by Dick Martin!” loudly proclaimed the referee.
-
-“Whoopee! Glory! Glory!” The shout was from the lips of Bagley, and
-in an instant he had stridden across to Dick with outstretched hand.
-“Glory, Glory! Dick!” he exclaimed; “le'me have a hold o' yore fist.
-Tell judgment day I'm yore friend. I've said some sneakin' underhand
-things about you that's hurt yore feelin's an' I want to ax yore pardon.
-Dang it! I cayn't harbor no ill will agin a feller that's beat Abrum
-Lawson a-shootin'. Thank goodness you've fetched his kingdom to a end!”
-
-When down-fallen Lawson had slunk away unnoticed from the enthusiastic
-crowd who were eager to congratulate Dick, Bagley came up to him and
-said:
-
-“Dick, le'me have the honor o' drivin' the prize home fur you. Fur some
-reason ur other you didn't stay to supper with us corn-shuckin' night;
-Melissa's a waitin' fur you out thar in the bresh to ax you to come
-home with us to-night. By glory, Tobe,” turning to Lawson's negro, “this
-yer's the same identical beef Lawson ordered you to drive home an' put
-in his pastur', ain't it? Well, you jest tell 'im his friend Bagley tuk
-the job off'n yore han's.”
-
-[Illustration: 0105]
-
-
-
-
-MOERAN'S MOOSE--A HUNTING STORY, By Ed. W. Sandys.
-
-
-|ONE of the best fellows among the hardy lot who have ran the trails
-and paddled the lonely tributaries of the tipper Ottawa was Moeran.
-No bolder sportsman ever went into the woods, and few, or none of the
-guides or professional hunters could rival his skill with rifle or
-paddle. The tough old “Leatherstockings” fairly idolized him, for he
-got his game as they did, by straight shooting, perfect woodcraft, and
-honest hard work; and most of them, while they usually charged a heavy
-price for their services, would have gladly thrown in their lots with
-him for an outing of a month or more, and asked nothing save what he
-considered a fair division of the spoils. He was also a keen observer
-and a close student of the ways of bird and beast. The real pleasure of
-sport seemed to him to lie in the fact that it brought him very near to
-nature, and permitted him to pore at will over that marvelous open page
-which all might read if they chose, yet which few pause to study. His
-genial disposition and long experience made him ever a welcome and
-valuable companion afield or afloat, and the comrades he shot with
-season after season would have as soon gone into the woods without their
-rifles as without Moeran. Physically, he was an excellent type of the
-genuine sportsman. Straight and tall, and strongly made, his powerful
-arms could make a paddle spring, if need be, or his broad shoulders bear
-a canoe or pack over a portage that taxed even the rugged guides; and
-his long limbs could cover ground in a fashion that made the miles seem
-many and long to whoever tramped a day with him.
-
-And this was the kind of man that planned a trip for a party of four
-after the lordly moose. Moeran had, until that year, never seen a wild
-moose free in his own forest domain, and needless to say he was
-keenly anxious to pay his respects to the great king of the Canadian
-wilderness. He had been in the moose country many times while fishing
-or shooting in the provinces of New Brunswick, Quebec, Ontario and
-Manitoba; he had seen the slots of the huge deer about pool and stream,
-on beaver meadow and brule; he had spent more than one September night
-“calling,” with a crafty Indian to simulate the plaintive appeals of
-a love-lorn cow; he had heard the great bulls answer from the distant
-hills--had heard even the low, grunting inquiry a bull moose generally
-makes ere emerging from the last few yards of shadowy cover, and
-revealing himself in all his mighty strength and pride in the moonlit
-open. More than once he had lain quivering with excitement and hardly
-daring to breathe, close-hidden in a little clump of scrub, about which
-stretched full forty yards of level grass on every side--lain so for an
-hour with every nerve strained to the ready, with ears striving to catch
-the faintest sound on the stillness of the night, and with eyes sweeping
-warily over the expanse of moonlit grass and striving vainly to pierce
-the black borders of forest, somewhere behind which his royal quarry was
-hidden. Upon such occasions he had lain and listened and watched until
-he fancied he could see the moose standing silently alert among the
-saplings, with ears shifting to and fro and with keen nose searching the
-air ceaselessly for trace of his mortal enemy. The occasional distant
-rattle of broad antlers against the trees as the big brute shook himself
-or plunged about in lusty strength had sounded on his ears, followed
-by the faint sounds of cautiously advancing footsteps seemingly bent
-straight toward the ambush. Then would follow a long agonizing pause,
-and then a snap of a twig or a faint rustling told that the crafty bull
-was stealing in a circle through the cover around the open space before
-venturing upon such dangerous ground.
-
-[Illustration: 0108]
-
-At last a deathlike silence for many minutes, and then a faint, far snap
-of twigs and “wish” of straightening branches as the great bull stole
-away to his forested hills, having read in breeze or on ground a
-warning of the foe concealed in the harmless scrub. All these were
-disappointments, but not necessarily bitter ones. The long night-vigils
-were after all rarely spent entirely in vain, for each brought to him
-some new ideas, or let him a little further into the dark mysteries of
-the great wild world's nightly moods and methods. The skilled craft of
-his Indian “caller;” the strange voices of the night that came to his
-ears, telling of the movements of creatures but seldom seen or heard by
-day, were full of interest to a genuine woodsman. And then the fierce
-though subdued excitement of the weird watch for the huge beast that
-never came, and yet might come at any moment full into the silvery
-moonlight from out the black belt of silent wood--these were each
-fascinating to such a nature as his. But still he had never once seen
-his long-looked-for game, though several seasons had slipped away and
-the month of July, 18----, had come and half passed by. Then Moeran
-got ready his fishing tackle and camping gear and vowed to find a good
-district for the party to shoot over the coming season, even if he had
-to remain in the woods an entire month. Right well he knew some of the
-likeliest points in New Brunswick, Quebec and Manitoba, the eastern
-portion of the latter province being the best moose country now
-available, but none of them met the requirements of the party, and so he
-decided to go into northern Ontario and prospect until he found what he
-sought.
-
-In the region of the upper Ottawa River, and in the wild lands about the
-Mattawa River and about the lakes forming its headwaters, is a country
-beloved of moose. Thither went Moe-ran, satisfied that his quest would
-not be in vain. Early in the third week of July he and his Peterboro
-canoe and outfit reached the railway station of North Bay, on the shore
-of noble Lake Nipissing. While awaiting the arrival of the guide and
-team for the next stage of his journey, he put rod together and strolled
-out on the long pier which extends for a considerable distance into the
-lake. Reaching the farther end and looking down into the clear, green
-depths below, he saw watchful black bass skulking in the shadows, and
-lazy pickerel drifting hither and thither, in and out, among the great
-piles which supported the pier. To tempt a few of these to their doom
-was an easy task, and soon the lithe rod was arching over a game black
-gladiator and a master hand was meeting every desperate struggle of a
-fighting fish, or slowly raising a varlet pickerel to his inglorious
-death. In time a hail announced the arrival of the team, and after
-presenting his captives to the few loungers on the pier, he busied
-himself stowing canoe and outfit upon the wagon.
-
-Their objective point was on the shore of Trout Lake, a lovely sheet
-of water distant from Nipissing about four miles. The road was in many
-places extremely bad and the team made slow progress, but there was
-plenty of time to spare and about noon they reached the lake. The guide,
-as guides are given to do, lied cheerfully and insistently every yard
-of the way, about the beauty of the lake, the countless deer and grouse
-upon its shores, the gigantic fish within its ice-cold depths, the game
-he, and parties he had guided, had killed, and the fish they had caught.
-He did well with these minor subjects, but when he touched upon moose
-and bear he rose to the sublime, and lied with a wild abandon which made
-Moeran seriously consider the advantage of upsetting the canoe later
-on and quietly drowning him. But he was not so far astray in his
-description of the lake. It formed a superb picture, stretching its
-narrow length for a dozen miles between huge, rolling, magnificently
-wooded hills, while here and there lovely islands spangled its silver
-breast. After a hurried lunch they launched the good canoe, the guide
-insisting upon taking his rifle, as, according to his story, they were
-almost certain to see one or more bear. The guide proved that he could
-paddle almost as well as he could lie, and the two of them drove the
-light craft along like a scared thing, the paddles rising and falling,
-flashing and disappearing, with that beautiful, smooth, regular sweep
-that only experts can give. For mile after mile they sped along, until
-at last they neared the farther end of the lake, where the huge hills
-dwindled to mere scattered mounds, between which spread broad beaver
-meadows, the nearest of them having a pond covering many acres near its
-center. All about this pond was a dense growth of tall water-grasses,
-and in many places these grasses extended far into the water which was
-almost covered, save a few open leads, with the round, crowding leaves
-of the water-lily. A channel, broad and deep enough to float the canoe,
-connected this pond with the lake, and, as the locality was an ideal
-summer haunt for moose, Moeran decided to investigate it thoroughly
-and read such “sign” as might be found. Landing noiselessly, he and the
-guide changed places, Moeran kneeling, forward, with the rifle on the
-bottom of the canoe in front of him, where he alone could reach it.
-“Now,” he whispered, “you know the route and how to paddle; work her up
-as if a sound would cost your life. I'll do the watching.”
-
-[Illustration: 0112]
-
-Slowly, silently, foot by foot, and sometimes inch by inch, the canoe
-stole up the currentless channel, the guide never raising his paddle,
-but pushing with it cautiously against the soft bottom and lily-roots.
-It was a good piece of canoe work, worthy even of Moeran's noted skill,
-and he thoroughly appreciated it. By motions of his hand he indicated
-when to halt and advance, while his eyes scanned sharply every yard of
-marsh revealed by the windings of the channel. Not the slightest sound
-marked their progress until they had almost entered the open water in
-the center of the pond, and were creeping past the last fringe of tall
-grass. Suddenly Moeran's hand signaled a halt, and the canoe lost its
-slow, forward motion. He looked and looked, staring fixedly at a point
-some twenty yards distant, where the growth of grass was thin and short
-and the lily-pads denser than usual, and as he gazed with a strange
-concentration, a wild light flashed in his eyes until they fairly blazed
-with exultant triumph. Straight before him among the faded greens and
-bewildering browns of the lily-pads was a motionless, elongated brown
-object very like the curved back of a beaver, and a foot or more from
-it, in the shadow of a clump of grass, something shone with a peculiar
-liquid gleam. It was an eye--a great, round, wild eye--staring full into
-his own--the eye of a moose--and the curving object like the back of
-a beaver was naught else than the enormous nose, or muffle, of a
-full-grown bull. Something like a sigh came from it, and then it slowly
-rose higher and higher until the head and neck were exposed. The big
-ears pointed stiffly forward, and the nose twitched and trembled for an
-instant as it caught the dreaded taint; then with a mighty floundering
-and splashing the great brute struggled to his feet. It was a grewsome
-spectacle to see this uncouth creature uprise from a place where it
-seemed a muskrat could hardly have hidden. For a few seconds he stood
-still.
-
-[Illustration: 0116]
-
-“Shoot! Shoot!”
-
-Moeran simply picked up the rifle and brought it level.
-
-“Load! 'Tain't loaded--the lever--quick!”
-
-He made no response, merely covered, first the point of the shoulder and
-then the ear, and then, as the bull plunged for the shore, he covered
-the shoulder twice more, then lowered the rifle, while a horribly
-excited guide cursed and raved and implored by turns in vain. And just
-how great was the temptation was never known, but it certainly would
-have proved irresistible to most men who call themselves sportsmen. In
-speaking about it afterward Moeran said: “It would have been a crime
-to have murdered the beast under such conditions, and out of season. I
-covered him fair four times, and could have dropped him dead where he
-stood--but we'll attend to them later on.” For there were, in all, four
-moose in the pond, and, shortly after the big bull commenced his noisy
-retreat, a tremendous splashing and plunging from the other side of the
-pond attracted their attention. They turned just in time to see a grand
-old cow and two younger moose struggle through the last few yards of
-mud and water, and then crash their way into the cover at the rapid,
-pounding trot peculiar to the species.
-
-Moeran's mission had been accomplished much easier than was expected,
-and he certainly had discovered a most promising locality for the trip
-with his friends. After a day spent fishing, he departed homeward,
-leaving his canoe and camp outfit in charge of the guide, whom he also
-bound by most solemn pledge neither to betray the secret of the beaver
-meadow, nor to molest the moose himself, before Moeran and his friends
-returned in time for the first lawful day.
-
-The last day of the close season saw the party and the guide snugly
-encamped at a point half-way down the lake. His three friends had
-unanimously agreed that Moeran should have the honor of visiting the
-beaver meadow first, and alone if he desired. He was the surest shot and
-by far the best hand at this sort of business, and he had discovered the
-moose, while all hands knew how keen he was to secure a head to his own
-rifle. So at earliest dawn Moeran put lunch and rifle into his
-shapely Peterboro and sped noiselessly away through the ghostly vapors
-curtaining the sleeping lake, and they saw him no more for many hours.
-The guide had questioned the others about their comrade's shooting (of
-his ability at the paddle he had somewhat sorrowful remembrance), and
-then, strange to say, had advised Moeran to go alone.
-
-“So much more glory for you,” he said, “and I'll look after these other
-gentlemen and give them a day's fishing.” But his manner was shifty, and
-Moeran mistrusted him.
-
-In due time he reached the little channel leading to the beaver meadow,
-and, as the sun lifted clear of the distant hills, he began working his
-way to the pond. He hardly expected to find the moose there then, but he
-had made up his mind to steal into the high grass and hide and watch all
-day, if necessary, and, at all events, study the thing out thoroughly.
-As the sun rose higher a brisk breeze sprang up, but as it came from the
-woods toward his station he did not mind, although it would have been
-fatal to his chance, probably, had it come from any other point of
-the compass. Presently his nose detected a strong, sickening odor of
-carrion, which, in time, as the breeze gained force, became almost
-overpowering, and he started to investigate. Paddling straight up-wind
-he came at last to a small pool, and the trouble was explained. The
-half-decomposed body of a full-grown cow moose lay in the pool and
-Moeran muttered savagely his opinion of all such butchery when he saw
-that not even the feet had been taken for trophies. Then he poled his
-canoe to the edge of the meadow and scouted carefully entirely round the
-open, seeking for any possible sign of the remainder of the quartet.
-To his utter disgust he found the remains of another moose, one of the
-younger animals, lying just within the borders of the cover, and, as in
-the other case, the butcher had not troubled himself to take away any
-portion of his victim. Moeran understood, of course, that the guide
-had played him false, and if that worthy had been present he might have
-seriously regretted his wrong-doing, for he it was who had guided a
-learned and honorable (?) American judge to the sanctuary of the moose
-a month previously, and, for a consideration of twenty-five dollars,
-enabled his patron to gratify his taste for the shambles.
-
-Moeran's careful search discovered no fresh sign, and he made up his
-mind that the two survivors, the old bull and the yearling, had fled the
-scene and had probably sought another expanse of beaver meadow and ponds
-the guide had mentioned as being about ten miles from Trout Lake. Moeran
-knew that some sort of a trail led thither, and he resolved to find it
-and follow it to the end and endeavor to locate the moose.
-
-Of the ensuing long, hard day's work it will be unnecessary to speak in
-detail.
-
-At nine o'clock that night his three friends sat near their roaring
-camp-fire on the lake shore, wondering at his protracted absence. The
-guide had turned in an hour previous, but the three were anxious, so
-they sat and smoked, and discussed the question, piling great drift-logs
-on their fire till it roared and cracked in fierce exultation and leaped
-high in air to guide the wanderer home. Its long, crimson reflection
-stretched like a pathway of flame far over the black waters of the lake,
-and the three sat and waited, now glancing along this glowing path, anon
-conversing in subdued tones. The lake was as still and dark as a lake
-of pitch, and some way the three felt ill at ease, as though some evil
-impended. At last the veteran of the trio broke a longer silence than
-usual:
-
-“Boys, I don't like this. It's ten o'clock and he should have been back
-long ago. I hope to Heaven----”
-
-A touch on his arm from the man at his right caused him to glance
-quickly lakeward.
-
-Forty feet from them, drifting noiselessly into the firelight, was the
-Peterboro, with Moeran kneeling as usual and sending the light craft
-forward in some mysterious manner which required no perceptible movement
-of the arms nor lifting of the paddle. It was a fine exhibition of his
-skill to thus approach unheard three anxious, listening men on such a
-night, for he had heard their voices good two miles away. His appearance
-was so sudden, so ghostlike, that for a few seconds the party stared in
-mute surprise at the forms of man and craft standing out in sharp relief
-against the blackness of the night; then a whoop of delight welcomed
-him.
-
-He came ashore, swiftly picked up the canoe and turned it bottom upward
-on the sand for the night, carried his rifle into camp, then approached
-the fire and looked sharply round.
-
-“The guide's asleep.”
-
-“Oh, he is; -------- him!” Then he flung himself down on the sand.
-Something in his tone and manner warned his friends not to talk, and
-they eyed him curiously. His face was white as death and drawn with an
-expression of utter exhaustion, and marked with grimy lines, showing
-where rivulets of sweat had trickled downward. As they looked, his eyes
-closed; he was going to sleep as he lay.
-
-Quietly the veteran busied himself getting food ready, and presently
-roused the slumberer.
-
-“Here, old chap, have a nip and eat a bite. Why, you're dead beat. Where
-on earth have you been?”
-
-A strangely hollow voice answered:
-
-“To the back lakes.”
-
-His listeners whistled a combined long-drawn “whew” of amazement, for
-right well they knew the leagues of toilsome travel this statement
-implied.
-
-“See anything?”
-
-“Wounded the old bull badly, and trailed him from the lakes to within
-five miles of here. That cur sleeping yonder sold us; but you hear me!”
- he exclaimed with sudden fierce energy, “_I'll get that moose if I have
-to stay in the woods forever!_”
-
-The three looked at him in admiring silence, for they guessed that,
-in spite of his terrible day's work, he intended starting again at
-daylight. In a few moments he finished his meal and staggered to the
-tent, and fell asleep as soon as he touched his blanket.
-
-When the party turned out next morning the canoe was gone, though the
-sun was not yet clear, of the hills. After breakfast they started in
-quest of grouse, working through the woods in the direction of the
-beaver meadows, and finding plenty of birds. About ten o'clock they
-heard the distant report of a rifle, followed in a few minutes by a
-second, and the veteran exclaimed, “That's him, for an even hundred, and
-he's got his moose, or something strange has happened.”
-
-At noon they returned to camp laden with grouse. No sign of the canoe
-as yet, so they had dinner, and lounged about and fished during the
-afternoon, casting many expectant glances down the lake for the laggard
-canoe. Night fell, with still no sound or sign of the wanderer, and
-again the camp-fire roared and flamed and sent its glowing reflection
-streaming far over the black waste of water. And again the three
-sat waiting. At ten o'clock the veteran rose and said, “Keep a sharp
-lookout, boys, and don't let him fool you again, and I'll get up a royal
-feed. He'll have moose-meat in the canoe this time, for he said _he'd
-get that moose if he had to stay in the woods forever_. He'll be dead
-beat, sure, for he's probably dragged the head out with him.” So they
-waited, piling the fire high, and staring out over the lake for the
-first glimpse of the canoe. Eleven o'clock and midnight came and went,
-and still no sign. Then they piled the fire high for the last time and
-sought the tent. At the door the veteran halted, and laying a hand on
-the shoulder of his chum, drew him aside.
-
-“Why, whatever's the matter with you?”
-
-The old man's face wore a piteous expression, and his voice trembled as
-he whispered:
-
-“Hush! Don't let _him_ hear you--but there's something wrong. Something
-horrible has happened--I feel it in my heart.”
-
-“Nonsense, man! You're sleepy and nervous. He's all right. Why, he's
-just cut himself a moose steak, and had a feed and laid down----”
-
-The sentence was never completed. A sound that caused both men to start
-convulsively tore through the black stillness of the night. A horrible,
-gurgling, demoniacal laugh came over the lake, and died away in fading
-echoes among the hills. “Woll-oll-all-ollow-wall-all-ollow!” as though
-some hideous fiend was laughing with his lips touching the water. They
-knew what it was, for the loon's weird cry was perfectly familiar to
-them, and they laughed too, but there was no mirth in their voices. Then
-one sought the tent, but the veteran paced up and down upon the cold
-beach, halting sometimes to replenish the fire or to stare out over the
-water, until a pale light spread through the eastern sky. Then he too
-turned in for a couple of hours of troubled, unrefreshing slumber.
-
-The bright sunshine of an Indian summer's day brought a reaction and
-their spirits rose wonderfully; but still the canoe tarried, and as the
-hours wore away, the veteran grew moody again and the midday meal was a
-melancholy affair. Early in the afternoon he exclaimed:
-
-“Boys, I tell you what it is: I can stand this no longer--something's
-wrong, and we're going to paddle those two skiffs down to the beaver
-meadow and find out what we can do, and we're going to start right now.
-God forgive us if we have been idling here while we should have been
-yonder!”
-
-Two in a boat they went, and the paddles never halted until the channel
-to the beaver meadow was gained. Dividing forces, they circled in
-opposite directions round the open, but only the taint of the long-dead
-moose marked the spot. Then they fired three rifles in rapid succession
-and listened anxiously, but only the rolling, bursting echoes of the
-woods answered them.
-
-“Guide, where would he probably have gone?”
-
-“Wa'al, he told you he'd run the old bull this way from the back
-lakes--thar's another leetle mash a mile north of us; it's an awful
-mud-hole, and the bull might possibly hev lit out fur thar. Enyhow, we'd
-best hunt the closest spots first.”
-
-The picture of that marsh will haunt the memories of those three men
-until their deaths. A few acres of muskeg, with broad reaches of sullen,
-black, slimy water, its borders bottomless mud, covered with a loathsome
-green scum, and a few pale-green, sickly-looking larches dotting the
-open--the whole forming a repulsive blemish, like an ulcer, on the face
-of the earth. All round rose a silent wall of noble evergreens, rising
-in massive tiers upon the hills, with here and there a flame of gorgeous
-color where the frost had touched perishable foliage. Overhead a
-hazy dome of dreamy blue, with the sun smiling down through the gauzy
-curtains of the Indian summer. Swinging in easy circles, high in air,
-were two ravens, challenging each other in hollow tones, their orbits
-crossing and recrossing as they narrowed in slow-descending spirals.
-“Look, look at him!”
-
-[Illustration: 0124]
-
-One bird had stooped like a falling plummet, and now hung about fifty
-yards above the farther bounds of the muskeg, beating the air with
-heavy, sable pinions and croaking loudly to his mate above. Closing her
-wings, she stooped with a whizzing rush to his level, and there the two
-hung flapping side by side, their broad wings sometimes striking sharply
-against each other, their hoarse, guttural notes sounding at intervals.
-A nameless horror seized the men as they looked. Their hunter's instinct
-told them that death lay below those flapping birds, and with one
-impulse they hurried round on the firmer ground to the ill-omened spot.
-
-The veteran, white-faced but active as a lad, tore his way through the
-bordering cover first, halted and stared for an instant, then dropped
-his rifle in the mud, threw up his hands and exclaimed in an agonized
-voice:
-
-“Oh, my God, my God!”
-
-One by one they crashed through the brush and joined him, and stood
-staring. No need for questions. Ten square yards of deep-trodden,
-reeking mud and crushed grass, a trampled cap, and here and there a rag
-of brown duck; a silver-mounted flask shining in a little pool of bloody
-water; a stockless rifle-barrel, bent and soiled, sticking upright;
-beyond all a huge, hairy body, and below it a suggestion of another body
-and a blood-stained face, that even through its terrible disfigurement
-seemed to scowl with grim determination. Throwing off their coats, they
-dragged the dead moose aside and strove to raise Moeran's body, but in
-vain. Something held it; the right leg was broken and they found the
-foot fast fixed in a forked root the treacherous slime had concealed. In
-the right hand was firmly clutched the haft of his hunting knife, and
-in the moose's throat was the broken blade. The veteran almost smiled
-through his tears as they worked to loosen the prisoned foot, and
-muttered, “Caught like a bear in a trap; he'd have held his own with
-a fair chance.” Carrying the poor, stamped, crushed body to the shade,
-they laid it upon the moss and returned to read the story of the fearful
-battle. To their hunter's eyes it read as plainly as printed page. The
-great bull, sore from his previous wound, had sought the swamp. Moeran
-had trailed him to the edge and knocked him down the first shot, and
-after reloading had run forward to bleed his prize. Just as he got
-within reach the bull had struggled up and charged, and Moeran had shot
-him through the second time. Then he had apparently dodged about in the
-sticky mud and struck the bull terrific blows with the clubbed rifle,
-breaking the stock and bending the barrel, and getting struck himself
-repeatedly by the terrible forefeet of the enraged brute. To and fro,
-with ragged clothes and torn flesh, he had dodged, the deadly muskeg
-behind and on either side, the furious bull holding the only path to the
-saving woods. At last he had entrapped his foot in the forked root, and
-the bull had rushed in and beaten him down, and as he fell he struck
-with his knife ere the tremendous weight crushed out his life. The
-veteran picked up the rifle-barrel, swept it through a pool and examined
-the action, and found a shell jammed fast.
-
-In despairing voice he said, “Oh, boys, boys, if that shell had but come
-into place our friend had won the day, but he died like the noble fellow
-he was!”
-
-With rifles and coats they made a stretcher and carried him sadly out to
-the lake.
-
-“_He would get that moose, or stay in the woods forever!_”
-
-
-
-
-THE MYSTERY OF A CHRISTMAS HUNT, By Talbot Torrance
-
-
-[Illustration: 9129]
-
-“Clug!” The wad went home in the last shell, and as I removed it from
-the loader and finished the fill of my belt I heaved a sigh of profound
-relief at the completion of a troublesome job.
-
-I hate making cartridges. Perhaps I am a novice, and have not a good
-kit, and am lazy, and clumsy, and impatient, and---- But go on and
-account for it yourself at greater length, if you will, my friends;
-only accept my solemn statement that I detest the operation, which, I
-am convinced, ought to be confined to able-bodied colored men with
-perseverance and pachydermatous knuckles.
-
-An ordinary man is always in fluster and fever before he completes
-loading up for a day's gunning. His patent plugger becomes inexplicably
-and painfully fractious; his percussions are misfits; his No. 10 wads
-prove to be No. 12s; his shot sack is sure to spill; his canister is
-certain to sustain a dump into the water pail, and, when he begins to
-reflect on all the unmentionable _lapsi linguæ_ of which his numerous
-vexations are the immediately exciting, though possibly not the
-responsible, cause, he is apt to conclude that, say what you may in
-favor of the breechloader, there are a certain few points which commend
-the old-time muzzle-loader, especially when it comes around to charging
-a shell.
-
-[Illustration: 0130]
-
-At all events, that is the kind of man I now am; and if the reader
-is not prepared to absolutely indorse me all through these crotchety
-cogitations, may I not hope he will at least bear with me patiently and
-give me time to outgrow it, if possible? But, as I was saying, I have
-charged up and am ready to sally forth and join the hunting party of the
-Blankville Gun Club, who had organized a match for Christmas Eve, a
-bright, nippy day of “an open winter”--as experienced in Northeastern
-Ontario, at any rate. I don my game bag, strap on my belt, pick up my
-newly-bought hammerless and prepare to leave the house. My cocker
-Charlie, long since cognizant of what my preparations meant, is at heel.
-
-There is a wild light in his eyes, but, self-contained animal that he
-is, not a yelp, whine or even tail wag is manifested to detract from his
-native dignity and self possession. “Native” dignity? Aye! My dog boasts
-it naturally; and yet, at the same time, I fancy the switch and I have
-had something to do in developing it and teaching the pup its apparently
-unconscious display.
-
-[Illustration: 0136]
-
-“You're no fool dog, are you, Charlie? You're no funny, festive,
-frolicsome dog, who cannot hold himself in when a run is on the
-programme--eh, boy?”
-
-The silky-coated canine knows as well as I do that he is in for an
-afternoon a-wood. He has the inclination to leap and roll and essay to
-jump out of his hide. Yet the only answer he dare give to the inquiry
-is an appealing glance from his hazel orbs up at his master's immovable
-face. Yes, my dog Charlie is sober and sensible, and I am proud of these
-characteristics and their usefulness to me before the gun.
-
-[Illustration: 0134]
-
-“Good-bye, little woman!” I sing out cheerily to my wife as I pass down
-the hall. She comes to the door to see me off. Sometimes, perhaps, a
-man will find his adieu on an occasion of this kind responded to
-uncordially, not to say frigidly, or perhaps not at all. But he must
-not grieve deeply over it or let it act as an excitative of his mean
-moroseness or angry passion. Think the thing all over. You are to be far
-away from home. Why should not the thought of the vacant chair--next to
-that of the demonstrative and exacting baby at meal time--rise up and
-sadden your wife? Can you wonder at her distant bearing as she foresees
-how she will sigh “for the touch of a vanished hand”--on the coal
-scuttle and water pail? Of course, she will “miss your welcome
-footsteps”--carrying in kindlings, and the “dear, familiar
-voice”--calling up the chickens. And so you cannot in reason expect her
-invariably to answer your kindly _adios_ in a gladsome, gleesome, wholly
-satisfied sort of way. But never you go away without the goodbye on your
-part--the honest, manly, loving-toned good-bye that will ring in her
-ears in your absence and cause her to fancy that perhaps you are not
-such a selfish old bear after all.
-
-With some of us men--only a limited few, of course, and we are not
-inclined to think over and enumerate them--it is unhappily the case
-that
-
-               We have cheerful words for the stranger,
-
-               And smiles for the sometime guest;
-
-               But oft for our own the bitter tone,
-
-               Though we love our own the best.
-
-“will miss your welcome footsteps.”
-
-[Illustration: 0134]
-
-               Now, if such men only thought
-
-               How many go forth in the morning,
-
-               Who never come back at night!
-
-               And hearts are broken for harsh words spoken,
-
-               Which time may never set right,
-
-what a different atmosphere might permeate the domicile on “first days,”
- to say nothing of the rest of the time!
-
-The real fact of the matter is, men and brothers, we do not accurately
-appreciate the objections which the domestic partners may entertain
-against our occasional outings. For my part I verily believe they are
-largely, if not entirely, prompted by the feeling that
-
-               There's nae luck aboot the hoose,
-
-               There's nae luck at a'!
-
-               There's nae luck about the hoose,
-
-               Since oor guid mon's avva'.
-
-And here we go on thinking it is purely a matter of petty petulance and
-small selfishness on their part! Come, gentlemen, let us once and for
-all rightly appreciate the situation and resolve to do better in the
-future! But let us return to our sheep. My hand is on the door knob,
-when, pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat, is heard the tread of tiny feet. It is Ted,
-my little two year old, coming to say good-bye to papa. I take him up
-and sing gaily:
-
-                   Bye, baby bunting,
-
-                   Papa goes a-hunting,
-
-                   To get a little rabbit skin
-
-                   To wrap the baby bunting in.
-
-How the little man crows and gurgles in glee! Then he grows
-demonstrative and he wants to take off my cap. He makes a grab at my
-game bag. As I put him down gently he tries to disarm me and possess
-himself of the gun.
-
-I say, what an awful bother about the house of the sportsman is the
-toddling tot of a baby! He is always getting hold of your gun swab for
-a fish pole or to bang the dog about. Putting holes in your fish basket
-with a big nail or a table knife is a supreme source of delight to him.
-He has a mania for planting carpet tacks in your hunting boots. Making
-smokestacks for mud houses with your brass shells is a passion with him.
-If he can get hold of your ammunition to make paste of the powder, and
-pulp of the wads, and a hopeless mixture of the shot, he is simply in
-his element. Give him possession of your lines and access to your fly
-book and he enjoys an hour of what is, to him, immense fun, but to you
-pronounced and positive destruction.
-
-And yet--you wouldn't be without, that self-same baby if to keep him
-cost you every shooting iron and foot of tackle you ever owned or hoped
-to own, and at the same time destroyed the prospect of you ever again
-having a “day out” on this rare old earth of ours.
-
-It is quite safe to say that the article for which you would exchange
-that merry, mischievous toddler of yours, who clasps your brown neck
-with little white, soft arms and presses a sweet baby kiss to your
-bristled lips, as he sees you off on an outing, has not now an
-existence--and you do not seem to exactly remember when it had. And you
-do not care whether he destroys your possessions; they can be replaced.
-
-Yes, indeed! Even you, most inveterate and selfish and calloused votary
-of the chase--you have a tender spot in your hard old heart for the
-baby boy. He may not be all that is orderly, obedient, non-combatable,
-non-destructive, but still we all love him! Not one of us, at all
-events, but will frankly admit that we respect him--for his father's
-sake. Need anything more be said?
-
-And do not we also respect those who depict him in tenderness and
-affection?
-
-Don't we think all the more of Scanlon the actor for his inimitable
-“Peek-a-boo?” and of Charles Mackay for his “Baby Mine?” and of Bret
-Harte for his “Luck of Roaring Camp?” and of Dickens--wasn't it Dickens
-who wrote:
-
-               When the lessons and tasks all are ended,
-
-               And the school for the day is dismissed,
-
-               And the little ones gather around me
-
-               To bid me good-bye and be kissed.
-
-               Oh, the little, white arms that encircle
-
-               My neck in a tender embrace!
-
-               Oh, the smiles that are halos of Heaven
-
-               Shedding light in a desolate place!
-
-Has it ever occurred to you, my friend, that the baby is the same
-unchanged, unimproved article since the world began? Men are making
-smokeless powder, constructing pneumatic bicycle tires, inventing
-long-distance guns, training horses down to two minutes, getting
-sprinters to cover 100 yards close to nine seconds--revolutionizing
-everything, but leaving the baby the old-time brand!
-
-People seem satisfied with the original make, and far from any movement
-to abolish it as out of date. The sentiment would appear to be pretty
-universal:
-
-               Drear were the world without a child,
-
-               Where happy infant never smiled.
-
-               We sooner could the flowerets spare,
-
-               The tender bud and blossom fair,
-
-               Or breath of spring time in the air.
-
-I have said “bye-bye” to my tiny Ted half a dozen times and at last am
-about to escape during his sudden flight to another part of the
-house, when I am arrested by the eager cry, half in inquiry, half in
-jubilation, “Baby barlo! Papa, baby barlo! Dee!”
-
-There he stands, holding up my little patent flask as though he had made
-a wonderful discovery. To humor the child I took the little companion,
-said “Ta-ta,” and was in the act of slipping it back to my wife, when
-I decided to keep it. I am not partial to the cup that cheers and also
-inebriates, and yet I have an appreciation of the pocket pistol that
-warms, sustains and heartens in a long tramp on a zero afternoon with
-only a dog for companionship and the chances of bagging anything much
-reduced to a minimum. I stepped to the sideboard and filled the “barlo”
- _quantum suff_.
-
-“Ah, Scrib! You're early on deck” was the grunting of the Doc. “None of
-the others are here yet. But I guess we'll not have long to wait. There
-is surely no laggard or lunkhead in our jolly sextette. On such an
-occasion as a Christmas Eve hunt, with an oyster supper at stake, the
-resources of our whole happy hunting grounds on trial, and the pluck
-and prowess of six rival sports in question there should certainly be no
-such word as 'funk!”'
-
-Even as the Doc spoke Tinker dropped in. Hardly was he seated when Shy
-puffed his way into the little smoking room. We waited five minutes for
-the Judge, and had become impatient before Budge put in an appearance.
-
-What an assortment of unique nomenclature! Gun-club designations they
-were, of course. In polite society “Scrib” was the village editor;
-“Tinker” was our general store keeper; “The Judge” was young Lawyer
-B------; “Budge” was mine host of the Queen's Arms, and the “Doc” was just
-the doctor--our large-hearted, clever, hard-working local M. D., the
-life and soul of the sport-loving community, as he was also the idol of
-the village and district for his skill, his unselfishness and his
-unvarying _bonhomie_.
-
-“Budge!” exclaims the Doc. “As president of this club I fine you----”
-
-“I rise to a point of order!” breaks in the Judge. “This meeting is not
-yet duly open, and, at all events, this is a special one, and
-business of the regular order must be excluded. Referring to the
-constitution----”
-
-“Oh, to thunder with the constitution! Let us get off on our hunt!” And
-Tinker looks annihilation at the order pointer.
-
-“Well, well, fellows,” laughs the Doc, “I shall rule partially in
-favor of both. I shall rule that Budge do tell us his latest joke as a
-penalty. Come now, prisoner, out with it and save your fine!”
-
-“Say, boys,” begins Budge, deprecatingly, “don't insist. I'm sorry I
-was late, but the fact is I was giving elaborate orders for the supper,
-which I know it will be just my luck to get stuck for. One of my special
-orders was to secure a magnificent roast and have it cooked in Ben
-Jonson style.”
-
-“Ben Jonson style? How is that?” queries the Doc.
-
-“'O, rare Ben Jonson!' There, Mr. President,” he adds, when the laugh
-ceases, “I believe that debt is squared.” We have made out our list and
-fixed points, ranging from chipmunk, 1, to bear, 1,000.
-
-“You leave out quail, I notice. Now that is an omission which----”
-
-But the Judge is cut short on all sides.
-
-“Out in the wild and woolly West, from whence you have but recently
-emigrated to civilization and refinement,” remarks the Doc, “quail are
-about as plentiful as hedge sparrows are here. But a quail has not been
-seen in this section for ten years, I'll venture to say. No, Judge, we
-needn't point on quail this time!”
-
-“And yet,” I observe in an encouraging tone, “who knows but we may each
-and all happen on a covey.”
-
-“That is extravagant. But if any man should be lucky enough to bag a
-brace, that I may enjoy one more good square meal of quail on toast,
-I'll stand the supper.” And the Judge looked straight at Budge.
-
-“Now that is what I would call extravagant--supper for a whole party in
-consideration of a dish of quail on toast. Suppose you yourself should
-bag the brace. But this reminds me of the man who ordered quail on toast
-in a Boston restaurant. He was brought in some toast. He waited a while.
-Presently he called the waiter and repeated the order. 'There you are,
-sir!' answered Thomas. 'That? That is toast, of course; but where's the
-quail?' The waiter pointed to a small speck in the centre of each slice,
-looking like a baked fly. 'Ah! so this dish is quail on toast, is it?'
-'Yes, sir!' 'Then you just remove it and bring me turkey on toast!'”
-
-We draw lots for choice of directions, and fix 8 p. m. sharp for
-reassembling to compare scores. My choice fell on a due north course,
-along which, seven miles distant, lay cover where I had scarcely ever
-failed to find at least fair sport and to take game, such as it was. And
-I went it alone--barring my dog.
-
-[Illustration: 0142]
-
-Seven miles of hard footing it and I had only the brush of a couple of
-red squirrels, the wing of a chicken hawk, and the lean carcass of a
-small rabbit to show. I had sighted a fox far out of range, and had been
-taken unawares by a brace of birds which Charlie had nobly flushed and I
-had shockingly muffed.
-
-The dog had followed the birds deeper into the wood, leaving me
-angry and uncertain what to do. Suddenly I heard his yelp of rage and
-disappointment give place to his business bark, and I knew my pup had a
-tree for me. It was a sound not to be mistaken. My dog never now plays
-spoof with me by tonguing a tree for hair. His business bark means
-partridge every time. I hurried on as the dog gave tongue more sharp and
-peremptory, taking a skirt to avoid a tangled piece of underbrush as I
-began-to approach the critical spot.
-
-The ruins of an old shanty lay fifty yards to my left, and between them
-and me was a sort of _cache_ or root cellar, the sides intact but the
-roof half gone.
-
-All of a sudden there broke on my ear a sound I had not heard for many a
-day.
-
-I listened, almost dumfounded. There it is again! And no mistaking it.
-It is the pipe of a quail!
-
-It came from a patch of meadow not many rods off, and it set every
-nerve in my body a-tingling. Charlie and his partridges were out of mind
-instanter. I had no manner of use for them at that supreme moment.
-
-“It's no stray bird!” I mentally ejaculated. “Perhaps it's a regular
-Kansas covey!” Heavens, what luck! The boys--the Judge--quail on
-toast--the laugh--the amazement--the consternation--I conjured all these
-things up in my excited brain in less time than it takes to tell it.
-
-I started forward with every fibre a-tension. I was wild to get even a
-glimpse of the little strangers.
-
-[Illustration: 0144]
-
-Suddenly--enough almost to puzzle me--the pipe was answered from the
-mouth of the old potato pit, and the next instant “whir-r-r-r!” rose the
-birds, and “bang! bang!” I gave them right and left at a range and with
-a calculation that left three only to join and tell the tale to the
-whistler in the meadow. Seven was the drop, and the birds were as plump
-and pretty as ever I had set eyes on. I fairly chuckled aloud in glee
-at the surprise I had in store for my club mates. I sat down, took a
-congratulatory nip, and actually toyed with the quail as a boy would
-with the first fruits of his initial day's outing with his own boughten
-gun!
-
-My faithful dog Charlie had during this time stuck to his birds. I could
-hear his angry bark growing angrier, and I could detect, as I fancied,
-a shade of impatience and disappointment therein. A crack at a partridge
-will be a change, I thought, and so I hurried in Charlie's direction.
-
-There he sat on a rotten stump, with eyes fixed on the brushy top of a
-dead pine.
-
-I looked that top over, limb by limb, but not a sign of a feather could
-I detect. I made a circuit, and skinned every twig aloft in a vain
-endeavor to discover a roosting bird. I began to think the pup was daft,
-but I dismissed the reflection promptly as ungenerous and unfair to my
-trusty cocker. I make solemn affidavit that, though I could not note the
-suggestion of a partridge up that pine, my spaniel could see it as plain
-as a pike staff.
-
-“I'll climb the stump!” said I. _Mirabile dictu!_ There, on lower limbs,
-one above the other and hugging the bark so close that they seemed part
-of it, were my missed brace!
-
-“Bang!” and the topmost tumbles, nearly knocking his mate off as he
-falls.
-
-“Bang!” and down comes No. 2.
-
-[Illustration: 8146]
-
-Charlie manifests a sense of relieved anxiety and satisfaction that of
-itself rewards me for the perplexing search.
-
-But a drowsiness had been creeping over me till its influence had
-become almost irresistible. I felt stupid and sleep-inclined.
-
-Almost without knowing what I did I pulled out my flask, poured “just a
-nip” a fair portion in the cup and drank it off. The twilight was
-coming on and casting its sombre shadows, _avant coureurs_ of the black
-winter night that was soon to envelop the scene for a brief while, till
-fair Luna lit up the heavens and chased Darkness to its gloomy lair.
-
-I have an indistinct recollection of recalling lines I have read
-somewhere or other:
-
-               When Life's last sun is sinking slow and sad,
-
-                   How cold and dark its lengthened shadows
-
-                        fall.
-
-                   They lie extended on the straightened path
-
-                   Whose narrow close, the grave, must end it
-
-                        all.
-
-               Oh, Life so grudging in your gifts, redeem
-
-                   By one great boon the losses of the Past!
-
-               Grant me a full imperishable Faith,
-
-                   And let the Light be with me till the last.
-
-Then all became a blank!
-
-* * * * *
-
-“Full? I never knew him to more than taste liquor. No, no! You're
-mistaken. He has either been knocked senseless by some accident or
-mischance, or else he has fallen in a fit.”
-
-It was the Doc who spoke. I suddenly grew seized of consciousness to the
-extent of recognizing my old friend's voice. But to indicate the fact
-physically was impossible. I lay in a sort of trance, with lips that
-would not open and hands that would not obey.
-
-“Oh, all right, Doc! You ought to know!”
-
-This time I caught the voice of the Judge.
-
-“But he is in a pitiable plight. We must get to him and move him or he
-may perhaps perish, if he's not gone now. Drat that dog! I don't want
-to shoot him; and yet he'll tear us if we try to lay hand on his master.
-But lay hand on him we must. Is it a go, Doc?”
-
-“It's the only alternative, Judge. I like canine fidelity; but hang me
-if this brute doesn't suit too well! We'll have to get him out of the
-way and succor the man. Give it to him, Judge!”
-
-“Stop!”
-
-By a superhuman effort, through some agency I never could account for,
-I managed to utter that one word in a sort of half expostulatory, half
-authoritative tone, or rather groan.
-
-[Illustration: 0148]
-
-It broke the spell.
-
-My eyes opened. My arms regained power. Instinctively I reached out a
-hand and drew my canine guardian toward me, placing a cheek against his
-cold, moist nose. That was enough for Charlie. The faithful brute grew
-wild with joy. He barked, whined, jumped, capered, pirouetted after his
-own stump, and, in a word, did the most tremendous despite to all my
-careful training in the line of reserved and dignified demeanor.
-
-I rose to a sitting posture and finally drew myself up on my feet,
-gazing around me in a bewildered, uncertain sort of way.
-
-“Hello, boys, what's the matter?” I managed to articulate.
-
-“Hello, and what's the matter yourself?” replied the Doc.
-
-“Yes, that's precisely what we came out here to know,” put in the Judge.
-
-“I guess--I think--yes, let me see!--I believe I--I--must have dropped
-off in a little doze, boys! Very kind of you to look me up. Only--say,
-you never surely meant to shoot my dog? I'd have haunted both of you
-to your respective dying days if you had, supposing I was a cold corpse
-instead of a man taking a little nap.”
-
-“Taking a little nap! Hear him! I should rather say you were. But, look
-here, Scrib, do your little naps always mean two or three hours of the
-soundest sleep a man ever slept who wasn't dead or drugged?”
-
-“Dead or drugged, Doc? Pshaw, you're away off. You can see for yourself
-I am not dead, and I can vow I wasn't drugged.”
-
-“Then you've been intoxicated, by George; and as president of the
-Blank-ville Gun Club I'll fine you----”
-
-“Quail, as I live!”
-
-“One--two--three; three brace and a half, Doc, and beauties, too! It
-does my heart good to handle the darlings. Doc, if Scrib has been full
-forty times to-day, he has more than atoned for the _lapsi_ with this
-glorious bag. Whoop! Ya, ha! There'll be quail on toast for the whole
-party.”
-
-By the time the Judge's jubilation had ceased I had about regained my
-normal condition and we were ready to make tracks homeward.
-
-The clock strikes the midnight hour as I re-enter my own home. My wife
-sits rocking the cradle, in which lies our darling Ted. She turns a
-weary-looking, tear-stained face to me.
-
-“Its all right, dear,” I gently remark, “I'm quite safe, as you see.”
-
-“I haven't the slightest doubt of it, sir,” she returns, icily. “It's
-not of you I've been thinking, but of baby.”
-
-“Baby,” I repeat inquiringly. “What is the matter with him?”
-
-“There is nothing the matter with him, but there is no telling what
-might have been. And all owing to your foolish indulgence of his fancy
-for bottles.”
-
-“What does it mean, dear?” I venture. “It means that you had not been
-gone an hour when I found Ted with that little two-ounce phial you left
-half filled with laudanum on the lower pantry shelf yesterday. He had
-evidently climbed a chair and reached it down. The cork was out and the
-bottle was empty. You can perhaps imagine my feelings. I didn't know
-whether he had taken the stuff or not, but was in an agony of anxiety on
-the point, you may be sure. The doctor was away hunting, you were away
-hunting, and here was I fairly consumed with apprehension lest my baby
-had poisoned himself.”
-
-Like a flash the whole mystery of my stupor sleep revealed itself to
-me. “Baby barlo”--flask--laudanum phial--whiskey--it was all as clear as
-day.
-
-I said: “But it transpires he hadn't taken any of the laudanum, eh?”
-
-“Yes, thank Heaven! But for all of you-----”
-
-“Listen, please. All I want to say is that what Ted missed I got. Do you
-understand?”
-
-“Do _I_ understand! Are _you_ in your sane and sober senses, William?”
-
-“I have a shrewd suspicion that I am,” I replied, with a slight laugh,
-“and being so, I will repeat it: Baby didn't down the poison; but I
-guess I made up for that, because _I did!_”
-
-Then I told her the story.
-
-Of course I gained my point. It ended with---- but, no matter. The Judge
-stood the supper in consideration of quail on toast being incorporated
-in the menu, and we sat around the festive board in the Queen's Arms
-a week later, and talked over our Xmas Eve hunting match. No one was
-disposed to question the sentiment in a speech by the Doc, who declared:
-“Fellows, our prowess as a gun club is growing, and I verily believe
-the old district is getting to be once more something like a half-decent
-hunting ground. Let us keep together, be as men and brothers always,
-and--I was nearly overlooking it--let us invariably wash out our pocket
-pistols before filling 'em up afresh.”
-
-
-
-
-HERNE THE HUNTER, By William Perry Brown
-
-
-|Herne the Hunter was tall, brown and grizzled. The extreme roundness
-of his shoulders indicated strength rather than infirmity, while
-the severing of his great neck at a blow would have made a feudal
-executioner famous in his craft. An imaginative man might have divined
-something comely beneath the complex conjunction of lines and ridges
-that made up his features, but it would have been more by suggestion,
-however, than by any actual resemblance to beauty traceable thereon. The
-imprint of strength, severity and endurance was intensified by an open
-contempt of appearance; only to a subtle second-sight was revealed aught
-nobler, sweeter and sadder, like faint stars twinkling behind filmy
-clouds.
-
-Some town-bred Nimrod, with a misty Shakespearean memory, had added to
-his former patronymic of “Old Herne” that of Windsor's ghostly visitor.
-The mountaineers saw the fitness of the title, and “Herne the Hunter”
- became widely current.
-
-His place of abode was as ambiguous as his history, being somewhere
-beyond the “Dismal,” amid the upper caves and gorges of the Nantahalah.
-The Dismal was a weird, wild region of brake and laurel, walled in by
-lonely mountains, with a gruesome outlet between two great cliffs,
-that nearly met in mid-air hundreds of feet over a sepulchral Canyon,
-boulder-strewn, and thrashed by a sullen torrent, that led from a
-dolorous labyrinth, gloomy at midday, and at night resonant with fierce
-voices and sad sighings.
-
-Far down in Whippoorwill Cove, the mountaineers told savage tales of
-adventure about the outskirts of the Dismal, yet, beyond trapping
-round the edges or driving for deer, it was to a great extent a _terra
-incognita_ to all, unless Herne the Hunter was excepted.
-
-“The devil air in the man, 'nd hopes him out'n places no hones' soul
-keers to pester hisse'f long of.”
-
-This was common opinion, though a few averred that “Old Herne 'nd the
-devil wern't so master thick atter all.” Said one: “Why, the dinged old
-fool totes his Bible eroun' ez riglar ez he do his huntin'-shirt. Onct
-when the parson wuz holdin' the big August meetin' down ter Ebeneezer
-Meetin'-house, he stepped in. The meetin' was a gittin' ez cold ez hen's
-feet, 'nd everybody a lookin' at Herne the Hunter, when down he draps
-onto his knees, 'nd holdin' on by his rifle he 'gun ter pray like a
-house afire. Wal, he prayed 'nd he prayed, 'twel the people, arter thur
-skeer wuz over, 'gun ter pray 'nd shout too, 'nd fust they all knowed,
-the front bench wuz plum full of mou'ners. Wal, they hed a hog-killin'
-time fur a while, 'nd all sot on by Herne the Hunter, but when they
-quieted down 'nd begun ter luk fer him--by jing!--he wern't thar. Nobody
-hed seed him get erway, 'nd that set 'em ter thinkin', 'nd the yupshot
-wuz they hed the bes' meetin' old Ebeneezer hed seed in many a year.”
-
-Once a belated hunter discovered, when the fog came down, that he was
-lost amid the upper gorges of the Nantahalahs. While searching for some
-cranny wherein to pass the night, he heard a voice seemingly in mid-air
-before him, far out over an abyss of seething vapor which he feared
-concealed a portion of the dreaded Dismal. Memories of Herne the Hunter
-crowded upon him, and he strove to retrace his steps, but fell into a
-trail that led him to a cave which seemed to bar his further way. The
-voice came nearer; his blood chilled as he distinguished imprecations,
-prayers and entreaties chaotically mingled, and all the while
-approaching him. He fled into the cave, and peering thence, beheld a
-shadowy form loom through the mist, gesticulating as it came.
-
-A whiff blew aside shreds of the fog, and he saw Herne the Hunter on the
-verge of a dizzy cliff, shaking his long rifle, his hair disheveled, his
-eyes dry and fiery, and his huge frame convulsed by the emotions that
-dominated him. The very fury and pathos of his passion were terrifying,
-and the watcher shrank back as old Herne, suddenly dropping his rifle,
-clutched at the empty air, then paused dejectedly.
-
-“Always thus!” he said, in a tone of deep melancholy. “Divine in
-form--transfigured--beautiful--oh, so beautiful!--yet ever with the same
-accursed face. I have prayed over these visitations. I, have sought in
-God's word that confirmation of my hope which should yet save me from
-despair; but, when rising from my supplications, the blest
-vision confronts me--the curse is ever there--thwarting its
-loveliness--reminding me of what was, but will never be again.”
-
-He drew a tattered Bible from his bosom and searched it intently. He was
-a sight at once forbidding and piteous, as he stood with wind-fluttered
-garments, his foot upon the edge of a frightful precipice, his head bent
-over the book as though devouring with his eyes some sacred antidote
-against the potency of his sorrow. Then he looked up, and the Bible fell
-from his hands. His eyes became fixed; he again clutched at the air,
-then fell back with a despairing gesture, averting his face the while.
-
-“Out of my sight!” he cried. “Your eyes are lightning, and your smile is
-death. I will have no more of you--no more! And yet--O God! O God!--what
-dare I--what can I do without you?”
-
-He staggered back and made directly for the cavern. The watcher shrank
-back, while Herne the Hunter brushed blindly by, leaving Bible and rifle
-on the rock without. Then the wanderer, slipping out, fled down the
-narrow trail as though there were less peril from the dizzy cliffs
-around than in the society of the strange man whose fancies peopled
-these solitudes with such soul-harrowing phantoms.
-
-Thus for years Herne the Hunter had been a mystery, a fear, and a
-fascination to the mountaineers; recoiling from men, abhorring women,
-rebuffing curiosity, yet' at times strangely tender, sad, and ever
-morbidly religious. He clung to his Bible as his last earthly refuge
-from his darker self, and to the aspirations it engendered as a bane to
-the fatalistic stirrings within him.
-
-He was a mighty hunter and lived upon the proceeds of his skill. Once
-or twice a year he would appear at some mountain store, fling down a
-package of skins, and demand its worth in powder and lead. The jean-clad
-loungers would regard him askance, few venturing to idly speak with
-him, and none repeating the experiment. His mien daunted the boldest. If
-women were there he would stand aloof until they left; on meeting them
-in the road he would sternly avert his eyes as though from a distasteful
-presence. One day the wife of a storekeeper, waiting on him in her
-husband's absence, ventured to say, while wrapping up his purchases:
-
-“I've all'ays wonnered, Mr. Herne, what makes ye wanter git outen the
-wimmen folks' way? Mos' men likes ter have 'em eroun'.”
-
-Herne the Hunter frowned heavily, but made no reply.
-
-“I'm shore, if ye had a good wife long with ye way up thar whur ye
-live, she'd make ye a leetle more like a man 'nd less like a--a--” she
-hesitated over a term which might censure yet not give offense.
-
-“Like a beast you would say.” He exclaimed then with vehemence: “Were
-the necks of all women in one, and had I my hands on it, I'd strangle
-them all, though hell were their portion thereafter.”
-
-He made a gesture as of throttling a giant, snatched his bundle from the
-woman's hand and took himself off up the road with long strides.
-
-*****
-
-That night was a stormy one. Herne the Hunter was covering the last ten
-miles between him and the Dismal in a pelting rain. The incident at the
-store, trivial as it was, had set his blood aflame. He prayed and fought
-against himself, oblivious of the elements and the darkness, sheltering
-his powder beneath his shirt of skins where his Bible lay secure. In his
-ears was the roar of wind and the groans of the tortured forest. Dark
-ravines yawned beside him, out of which the wolf howled and the mountain
-owl laughed; and once came a scream like a child, yet stronger and more
-prolonged. He knew the panther's voice, yet he heeded nothing.
-
-At last another cry, unmistakably human, rose nearer by. Then he paused,
-like a hound over a fresher scent, until it was repeated. He made his
-way around a shoulder of the mountain, and aided by the gray light of a
-cloud-hidden moon, approached the figures of a woman, a boy and a horse,
-all three dripping and motionless.
-
-“Thank God! we will not die here, after all,” exclaimed the female, as
-Herne the Hunter grimly regarded them. “Oh, sir, we have missed the
-way. This boy was guiding me to the survey camp of Captain Renfro, my
-husband, on the upper Swananoa. He has sprained his foot, and we have
-been lost for hours. Can you take us to a place of shelter? I will pay
-you well--”
-
-“I hear a voice from the pit,” said Herne, fiercely. “It is the way with
-your sex. You think, though you sink the world, that with money you can
-scale Heaven. Stay here--rot--starve--perish--what care I!”
-
-After this amazing outburst he turned away, but her terror of the night
-overbore her fear of this strange repulse, and she grasped his arm. He
-shook himself free, though the thrill accompanying her clasp staggered
-him. For years no woman's hand had touched him; but at this rebuff she
-sank down, crying brokenly:
-
-“What shall I do? I should not have started. They warned me below, but I
-thought the boy knew the way. Oh, sir! if you have a heart, do not leave
-us here.”
-
-“A heart!” he cried. “What's that? A piece of flesh that breeds endless
-woes in bosoms such as yours. All men's should be of stone--as mine
-is now!” He paused, then said abruptly: “Up with you and follow me. I
-neither pity nor sympathize; but for the sake of her who bore me, I will
-give you such shelter as I have.”
-
-He picked up the boy, who, knowing him, had sat stupefied with fear, and
-bade the woman follow him.
-
-“But the horse?” she said, hesitating.
-
-“Leave it,” he replied. “The brute is the best among you, but whither we
-go no horse may follow.”
-
-He turned, taking up the boy in his arms, and she dumbly followed him,
-trembling, faint, yet nerved by her fears to unusual exertion. So rapid
-was his gait, encumbered though he was, that she kept him in view with
-difficulty. Through the gloom she could divine the perils that environed
-their ever upward way. The grinding of stricken trees, the brawl of
-swollen waters harrowed her nerves not less than the partial gleams
-of unmeasured heights and depths revealed by the lightning. A sense of
-helplessness exaggerated these terrors among the unknown possibilities
-surrounding her.
-
-It seemed as though they would never stop again. Her limbs trembled, her
-heart thumped suffocatingly, yet their guide gave no heed, but pressed
-on as though no shivering woman pantingly dogged his steps. They
-traveled thus for several miles. She felt herself giving way totally
-when, on looking up once more, she saw that the hunter had vanished.
-
-“Where am I?” she cried, and a voice, issuing seemingly out of the
-mountain-side, bade her come on. Her hands struck a wall of rock; on her
-right a precipice yawned; so, groping toward the left, she felt as she
-advanced that she was leaving the outer air; the wind and rain no longer
-beat upon her, yet the darkness was intense.
-
-She heard the voice of the boy calling upon her to keep near. Into the
-bowels of the mountains she felt her way until a gleam of light shone
-ahead. She hastened forward round a shoulder of rock into a roomy
-aperture branching from the main cavern. The boy lay upon a pallet of
-skins, while Herne the Hunter fixed the flaring pine-knot he had lighted
-into a crevice of the rock. Then he started a fire, drew out of another
-crevice some cold cooked meat and filled a gourd with water from a
-spring that trickled out at one end of the cave.
-
-“Eat,” he said, waving his hand. “Eat--that ye may not die. The more
-unfit to live, the less prepared for death. Eat!”
-
-With that he turned away and busied himself in bathing and bandaging the
-boy's foot, which, though not severely sprained, was for the time quite
-painful. Mrs. Renfro now threw back the hood of her waterproof and laid
-the cloak aside. Even old Herne--women hater that he was--could not
-have found fault with the matronly beauty of her face, unless with its
-expression of self-satisfied worldliness, as of one who judged others
-and herself solely by conventional standards, shaped largely by flattery
-and conceit.
-
-She was hungry--her fears were somewhat allayed, and though rather
-disgusted at such coarse diet, ate and drank with some relish.
-Meanwhile, Herne the Hunter turned from the boy for something, and
-beheld her face for the first time. A water-gourd fell from his hands,
-his eyes dilated, and he crouched as he gazed like a panther before its
-unsuspecting prey. Every fibre of his frame quivered, and drops of cold
-sweat stood out upon his forehead. The boy saw with renewed fear this
-new phase of old Herne's dreaded idiosyncrasies. Mrs. Renfro at length
-raised her eyes and beheld him thus. Instantly he placed his hands
-before his face, and abruptly left the cavern. Alarmed at his
-appearance, she ran toward the boy, exclaiming:
-
-“What _can_ be the matter with him? Do you know him?”
-
-“I knows more of him 'n I wants ter,” replied the lad. “Oh, marm, that's
-old Herne, 'nd we uns air the fust ones ez hev be'n in hyar whar he
-stays. I ganny! I thort shore he'd hev yeaten ye up.”
-
-“Well, but who is he?”
-
-“Well, they do say ez the devil yowns him, not but what he air
-powerful 'ligyus. No one knows much 'bouten him, 'cep'n' he's all'ays a
-projeckin' eround the Dismal whar no one yelse wants ter be.”
-
-“Has he been here long?”
-
-“Yurs 'nd yurs, they say.” Tommy shook his head as though unable to
-measure the years during which Herne the Hunter had been acquiring his
-present unsavory reputation, but solved the riddle by exclaiming: “I
-reckon he hev all'ays be'n that-a-way.”
-
-An hour or more passed. Tommy fell asleep, while the lady sat musing by
-his side. She did not feel like sleeping, though much fatigued. Finally
-she heard a deep sigh behind her, and turning saw the object of her
-fears regarding her sombrely. The sight of her face appeared to shock
-him, for he turned half away as he said:
-
-“You have eaten the food that is the curse of life, in that it sustains
-it. Yet such we are. Sleep, therefore, for you have weary miles to go,
-ere you can reach the Swananoa.”
-
-There was an indescribable sadness in his tone that touched her, and she
-regarded him curiously.
-
-“Who are you,” she asked, “and why do you choose to live in such a place
-as this?”
-
-“Ask naught of me,” he said, with an energy he seemed unable to repress.
-“Ask rather of yourself who am I and how came I--thus.”
-
-He struck himself upon the breast, and without awaiting an answer again
-abruptly left the cave. She sat there wondering, trying to-weave into
-definite shape certain vague impressions suggested by his presence,
-until weariness overcame her and she slept.
-
-Hours after, Herne the Hunter reentered the cave, bearing a torch. His
-garments were wet, the rain-drops clung to his hair, and his face was
-more haggard than ever. He advanced towards the slumbering woman softly,
-and stood over her, gazing mournfully upon her, while large tears rolled
-down his cheeks. Then his expression changed to one that was stern and
-vindictive. His hand nervously toyed with the knife in his belt. Milder
-thoughts again seemed to sway him, and his features worked twitchingly.
-
-“I cannot, I cannot,” he whispered to himself. “The tears I thought
-forever banished from these eyes return at this sight. There has never
-been another who could so move me. Though thou hast been my curse, and
-art yet my hell--I cannot do it. Come! protector of my soul; stand thou
-between me and all murderous thoughts!”
-
-He drew his Bible from his bosom, kissed it convulsively, then held it
-as though to guard her from himself, and drawing backward slowly, he
-again fled into the storm and darkness without.
-
-*****
-
-The gray light of morning rose over the Dismal, though within the cave
-the gloom still reigned supreme, when Herne the Hunter again stood at
-the entrance holding a flaring light. Then he said aloud: “Wake, you
-that sleep under the shadow of death! Wake, eat, and--pass on!” Mrs.
-Renfro aroused herself. The boy, however, slept on. Herne fixed
-his torch in the wall, and replenished the fire. Then he withdrew,
-apparently to give the lady privacy in making her toilet.
-
-She was stiff in limb and depressed in mind. After washing at the
-spring, she wandered listlessly about the cave, surveying old Herne's
-scanty store of comforts. Suddenly she paused before a faded picture,
-framed in long, withered moss, that clung to an abutment of the rock.
-It was that of a girl, fair, slender and ethereal. There was a wealth of
-hair, large eyes, and features so faultless that the witching sense of
-self-satisfaction permeating them, added to rather than marred their
-loveliness.
-
-The lady--glancing indifferently--suddenly felt a thrill and a pain.
-A deadly sense of recognition nearly overcame her, as this
-memento--confronting her like a resurrected chapter of the past--made
-clear the hitherto inexplicable behavior of their host. She recovered,
-and looked upon it tenderly, then shook her head gently and sighed.
-
-“You cannot recognize it!” said a deep voice behind her. “You dare
-not! For the sake of your conscience--your hope in heaven--your fear of
-hell--you dare not recognize and look upon me!”
-
-She did not look round, though she knew that Herne the Hunter stood
-frowning behind, but trembled in silence as he went on with increasing
-energy:
-
-“What does that face remind you of? See you aught beneath that beauty
-but treachery without pity, duplicity without shame? Lo! the pity and
-the shame you should have felt have recoiled upon me--me, who alone have
-suffered.” He broke off abruptly, as though choked by emotion. She dared
-not face him; she felt incapable of a reply. After a pause, he resumed,
-passionately: “Oh! Alice, Alice! The dead rest, yet the living dead can
-only endure. Amid these crags, and throughout the solitude of years, I
-have fought and refought the same old battle; but with each victory it
-returns upon me, strengthened by defeat, while with me all grows weaker
-but the remorselessness of memory and the capacity for pain.”
-
-She still stood, with bowed head, shivering as though his words were
-blows.
-
-“Have you nothing to say?” he asked. “Does that picture of your own
-youth recall no vanished tenderness for one who--self-outcast of
-men--fell to that pass through you?”
-
-“I have a husband,” she murmured, almost in a whisper.
-
-“Aye, and because of that husband I have no wife--no wife--no wife!”
- His wailing repetition seemed absolutely heartbroken; but sternly he
-continued: “You have told me where he is. I say to you--hide
-him--hide him from me! Even this”--he struck his bosom with his Bible
-feverishly--“may not save him. I have prayed and wrought, but it is as
-nothing--nothing--when I think--when I remember. Therefore, hide him
-from me--lest I slay him--”
-
-“You would not--you dare not harm him!” She faced him now, a splendid
-picture of an aroused wife and mother. “He is not to blame--he knew you
-not--he has been good to me--and--and--I love him.”
-
-He shrank from the last words as though from a blow, and stood cowering.
-Then he hissed out:
-
-“Let me not find him. Hide him--hide him!”
-
-Tommy here awoke with a yawn, and announced that his foot was about
-well. Herne, closing his lips, busied himself about preparing breakfast,
-which cheerless meal was eaten in silence. When they finally emerged
-from the cave the sun was peeping into the Dismal below them; bright
-gleams chased the dark shadows down the cliffs, and the morning mists
-were melting. The storm was over; there was a twitter of birds, the
-tinkle of an overflowing burn, and a squirrel's bark emphasizing the
-freshness of the morn. The pure air entered the lips like wine, and Mrs.
-Renfro felt her depression roll off as they retraced the devious trail
-of the night before.
-
-They found the lady's horse standing dejectedly near where he had been
-left. The fog, in vast rolls, was climbing out of the Dismal, disclosing
-dark masses of forest below. The flavor of pine and balsam slept
-beneath the trees, every grass blade was diamond-strewn, and every sound
-vivified by the sense of mighty walls and unsounded depths.
-
-After Mrs. Renfro had mounted, Herne the Hunter swept an arm around. The
-scene was savage and sombre, despite the sunlight. The intensity of the
-solitude about them dragged upon the mind like a weight.
-
-“Behold,” he said sadly, “this is my world. I can tolerate no other.”
-
-She inwardly shuddered; then a wave of old associations swept over her
-mind. Beneath the austerity of the man, beyond his selfish nurture of
-affliction, she--for the moment--remembered him as he once was, homely,
-kindly, enthusiastic and true. Had _she_ indeed changed him to this? Or
-was it not rather the imperativeness of a passion, unable to endure
-or forget her preference of another? Whatever the cause, her heart now
-ached for him, though she feared him.
-
-“Come with us,” she said. “You were not made to live thus.”
-
-“I cannot--I dare not. It will take months to undo the misery of this
-meeting.”
-
-“My husband--”
-
-“Do not name him!” he cried fiercely; then abruptly lowering his tone,
-he said, with infinite sadness: “Ask me no more. Yonder, by that white
-cliff, lies the Swan-anoa trail you missed yesterday. The kindest thing
-you can do is to forget that you have seen me. Farewell!”
-
-He turned away and swung himself down the mountain-side into the Dismal.
-She saw the rolling mists close over him, and remained motionless in a
-reverie so deep that the boy spoke twice to her before she turned her
-horse's head and followed him.
-
-* * * * *
-
-Above the surveyor's camp lay the Swananoa Gap, a gloomy, precipitous
-gorge through which the river lashed itself into milder reaches below.
-Mrs. Renfro found her husband absent. With a single assistant he had
-started for the upper defiles, intending to be gone several days. They
-told her that he would endeavor to secure the services of Herne the
-Hunter as a guide, as one knowing more of that wilderness than any one
-else.
-
-Here was fresh food for wifely alarm. Herne had never met her husband,
-yet the latter's name would make known his relationship to herself. She
-shuddered over the possibilities that might result from their sojourn
-together--far from aid--in those wild mountains, and made herself
-wretched for a week in consequence.
-
-Meanwhile the transient fine weather passed; the rains once more
-descended, and the peaks of Nantahalah were invisible for days amid a
-whirl of vapor. The boom of the river, the grinding of forest limbs,
-the shriek of the wind, made life unusually dreary at the camp. She lay
-awake one night when the elements were apparently doing their worst. Her
-husband was still absent--perhaps alone with a possible maniac, raving
-over the memory of fancied wrongs.
-
-Finally another sound mingled with and at last overmastered all
-others--something between a crash and a roar, interblended with
-sullen jars and grindings. Near and nearer it came. She sprang to the
-tent-floor and found her feet in the water. The darkness was intense.
-What could be the matter? Fear overcame her resolution and she shrieked
-aloud.
-
-A man bearing a lantern burst into the tent with a hoarse cry. Its
-gleams showed her Herne the Hunter, drenched, draggled, a ghastly cut
-across his face, with the blood streaming down, his long hair flying,
-and in his eyes a fierce flame.
-
-“I feared I would not find you,” he shouted, for the roar without was
-now appalling. “It is a cloud-burst above. In five minutes this hollow
-will be fathoms deep. The tents lower down are already gone. Come!”
-
-He had seized and was bearing her out.
-
-“Save--alarm the others!” she cried.
-
-“You first--Alice.”
-
-In that dread moment she detected the hopelessness with which he called
-her thus, as though such recognition was wrung from his lips by the pain
-he hugged, even while it rended him.
-
-“My husband?” she gasped, growing faint over the thought of his possible
-peril--or death.
-
-“Safe,” he hissed through his clenched teeth, for his exertions were
-tremendous. With a fierce flap the tent was swept away as they left
-it. About his knees the waters swirled, while limbs and other floating
-débris swept furiously by.
-
-What seemed to her minutes--though really seconds--passed amid a
-terrific jumble of sounds, while the rain fell in sheets. It seemed
-as though the invisible mountains were dissolving. They were, however,
-slowly rising above the floods. She heard Herne's hard breathing, and
-felt his wild heart-throbs as he held her close. Something heavy struck
-them, or rather him, for he shielded her. One of his arms fell limp, and
-he groaned heavily. Then she swooned away, with a fleeting sensation of
-being grasped by some one else.
-
-Later, when she revived, there was a great hush in the air. Below, the
-river gently brawled-; there was a misty darkness around, and the gleam
-of a lantern held before a dear and familiar form.
-
-“Husband--is it you?” she murmured.
-
-“Yes, yes,” said Captain Renfro, “I thought I had lost you. You owe
-your life to Herne the Hunter. In fact, but for him I would have been
-overwhelmed myself.”
-
-“Where is he?” she asked feebly.
-
-“The men are searching for him. Just as one of them got hold of you, he
-fell back--something must have struck him, and the flood swept him off.
-I tell you, Alice, that man--crazy or not--is a hero. We were on our way
-down and had camped above the Gap, when the cloud-burst came. We knew
-you all would be overwhelmed before we could get round here by the
-trail; so what does Herne do but send us on horseback by land, while
-he scoots down that Canyon in a canoe--little better than an eggshell.
-Risked his life in that awful place to get here in time. I insisted on
-going with him at first.”
-
-“Just like you, George,” said the wife fondly, though in her mind's eye
-came a vision of Herne the Hunter battling with that Niagara to save
-and unite the two, through whom his own life had been made a burden. She
-sighed and clasped her husband's hand, while he resumed:
-
-“I was a fool, I expect, for the canoe would have swamped under both of
-us. He knew this, and ordered me off with a look I did not like;
-there was madness in it. Well, we hurried round by the trail with, one
-lantern; Herne took the other. When we got here, you were apparently
-dead, Herne and two of the men swept off--the camp gone from below, and
-so on.”
-
-A cry was now heard. Several men hastened down, and soon lights were
-seen returning. Four of them bore Herne the Hunter. One arm and a leg
-were broken, and his skull crushed in; yet the wonderful vitality of the
-man had kept him alive and sensible.
-
-“We found him clinging to a sapling,” said one. “But he's about
-gone--poor fellow!”
-
-Poor fellow, indeed! Mrs. Renfro felt the lumps rise in her throat as
-she gazed upon that wreck, and thought. Presently Herne opened his
-eyes--already filling with the death-mist--and his gaze fell upon her
-face.
-
-“Alice,” he whispered, “my troubles--are over. This”--he tugged at
-something in his bosom with his uninjured arm, when some one drew forth
-his Bible, drenched and torn--“this saved me. I could have killed him--”
- he glanced at Renfro, who amid his pity now wondered. “I could--but--I
-saved you. And--now--Jesus--have mercy--”
-
-These were his last words, for in another minute Herne the Hunter was a
-thing of the past, and a weeping woman bent over him. After that there
-was silence for a while. Then the wife said to her husband, while the
-others removed the dead man:
-
-“It was his misfortune, not my fault, that he loved me. Has he not made
-amends?”
-
-And the husband, with his hands clasped in hers, could find no other
-heart than to say:
-
-“Aye--most nobly!”
-
-
-
-
-UNCLE DUKE'S “B'AR” STORY, By Lillian Gilfillan
-
-
-|I 'LOWED ez mebbe you uns ud like ter hear thet thar b'ar story. I
-reckon it's ten year this December since it all happened. I war a-livin'
-up in thet house on th' edge uv th' corn fiel' 'long side th' branch,
-an' ef it 't'warn't fer thet b'ar I'd be a-livin' thar yet, 'stead uv
-a-settin' in th' warm corner uv Jim Ladd's fireplace.
-
-I 'low ez yer knowed Jim didn't hev no great sight uv worldly efects
-when he married Becky Crabtree; I don't reckon his daddy war able ter do
-much fer him, 'ceptin' 'lowin' him the use uv thet yoke uv ole steers uv
-his'n.
-
-Thet war afore they moved th' mill out'n th' holler yander, so it war
-right handy fer Jim ter haul his logs ter, an' he jes' worked hisse'f
-plumb nigh ter death a-gettin' up thet leetle log house uv his'n, an'
-a-plantin' fruit trees an' sech, an' all summer Becky worked jes' ez
-hard a-berry pickin', tendin' her truck patch an' a-peddlin' up ter th'
-station.
-
-An' in th' winter time when Jim war a-makin' dish shelves an' a-puttin'
-some new splits inter th' bottoms uv them ole chiers his daddy give him,
-Becky war a-peecin' quilts an' a-spinnin' cloth fer dresses. Waal, in
-th' spring they war married an' went ter live in ther house on th' side
-uv th' mounting, out'n no neighbors, 'ceptin' me, fer a mile or more
-down th' cove.
-
-Thet war th' spring I war tuck so bad with this misery in my back an'
-afore summer I war so cript up I warn't no 'count whatever.
-
-One mornin' jes' ez I war a gettin' up from afore the fire whar I hed
-been a-eatin' a snack uv breakfast, Becky walked in, lookin' ez fresh ez
-a fiel' uv early corn, and sez:
-
-“Uncle Duke, I 'lowed I'd come in an' see how you war an' rid up a
-leetle fur yer.”
-
-I h'ant never been used ter wimen folks, an' I could'nt git th' consent
-uv my mind ter set by an' see every thin' pot out'n its nat'ral place,
-so I reched my stick an' out'n sayin' nothin' I riz up an' went out
-under th' big gum tree.
-
-It warn't long afore Becky kem out with her bucket on her arm, an' sez:
-
-“Good-bye, Uncle Duke. I reckon I'll be a-gittin' along ter th' berry
-patch yan-der.”
-
-I sed, “Thank yer, Becky. Don't yer come no more ter tend ter me. I 'low
-you's got a plenty ter do 'out'n a-doin' thet.”
-
-Yer see, I didn't want ter be pestered with her fixin', yit she was so
-obleegin' ter everybody I didn't want ter 'fend her by axin' her ter
-stay ter hum. Waal, when I went in an' seed how piert things looked, I
-jes' wished I'd a-kep' my pipe in my mouth 'stead uv a-jawin' her. Spite
-uv my sayin' time an' ag'in fer her ter rest when her own work war done,
-she kep' a-comin'. I 'lowed she seed how much I enjoyed havin' things
-liken white folks lived in the house.
-
-I 'low she war jes' ez bright an' happy thet year ez enny woman in the
-cove ez hed a plenty.
-
-An' summer an' winter she 'peared ter be always a-workin'.
-
-Waal in th' middle uv March leetle Jim kem, and I reckon thar warn't
-no two happier people in th' world. They war proud uv thet baby, an' no
-mistake.
-
-The fust time I seed Becky arter it war born, she pulled a leetle hand
-out'n from under th' kiver an' sez:
-
-“Uncle Duke, some day thet leetle han'll chop wood fur his mammy.”
-
-Waal, it did'nt look much like handlin' an axe thin.
-
-Thet summer she use ter roll th' baby up in her daddie's ole army
-blanket an' take it with her berry pickin' an' peddlin' an' everywhars;
-it 'peared like she didn't think its weight nothin', un' she'd go
-'long th' road talkin' ter it like ez ef a baby four months ole knowed
-ennythin'. With th' money from her berries she bought th' winter
-clothes--mostely things fur th' baby an' flannel shirts fur her
-man--'peared like she thought th' cold wouldn't tech her.
-
-It war th' last uv th' next June thet th' twins war born. This time
-Becky didn't seem ter git 'long so piert--jes' lay still an' pale like,
-an' a lookin' at the baby gals sad an' pityin'. I reckon she war a
-wonderin' whar th' warm winter clothes they'd need by' an' by' war
-ter be got from. It warn't in reason ter 'spose a woman could tote two
-babies an' do much at pickin' berries.
-
-Jim worked ez hard ez enny man could, but his ole mare died jist at
-fodder pickin' time, an' he couldn't do much out'n a critter, so a right
-smart uv his crap war lost. Becky didn't seem ter get strong ez she did
-afore, an' her sister up an' left her sooner 'en she oughter. She seemed
-tar be kinder mad all th' time ter think Becky had gone an' hed twins,
-an' she didn't keep her 'pinions hid. I reckon Becky warn't sorry when
-she went back ter her man.
-
-Ez I war a-sayin', it war ten year ago this December, an' a right smart
-uv snow on th' ground, when Becky came by my house one mornin' ter ax me
-ef I'd go down an' watch th' fire an' leetle Jim fer a spell. I seed she
-war lookin' anxious like, an' I axed her what war th' matter.
-“Jim went a-rabbit huntin' yesterday evenin',” she sed, “an' he ain't
-kem hum yit; I reckon somethin' hes happened ter him, an' I 'lowed I'd
-go an' see. The babies ez both asleep an' I speck ter be home afore
-long.”
-
-She went on up th' mounting path a-makin' fur the top, a-holpin' herse'f
-over the sleek places with that hickory stick uv her'n.
-
-I went on down ter th' house an' found leetle Jim a-noddin' afore th'
-fire. It war about'n th' time he always tuck his nap. Pretty soon he
-war ez sound asleep ez ef he war on th' biggest feather bed in th' cove,
-'stead uv jes' his mammy's cook apron under his little yaller head.
-
-I pot on a fresh log an' was mighty nigh asleep myse'f when one o' th'
-babies waked up an' cried a leetle.
-
-Somehow I got th' cradle in an awk'ard place acrost a plank ez war all
-warped up an' th' churnin' back an' fore waked up th' t'other 'un.
-She jes' lay thar a-look-in' fust at me an' then at her leetle sister,
-kinder onsartin whether ter cry or not.
-
-By an' by I thought I'd holp her back ter sleep, so I tuck her leetle
-han' an' tried ter pot her thumb in ter her mouth, but thar warn't
-nobody knowed enny better thin thet thar baby thet she didn't want no
-thumb feedin'. I got up an' went fur some milk, fust a-lookin' out'n th'
-door ter see ef Becky war a-comin'.
-
-Seein' ez thar warn't no sign uv her no-whar, I 'lowed I try ter feed
-th' young uns, beein's th' both uv them war a-doin' ther best at cryin'.
-
-They didn't seem ter take much ter my feedin'; I reckon thet war 'cause
-I didn't set th' milk afore th' fire fust, an' somehow it 'peared like'
-th' milk most in general went down th' outside uv ther necks; an' Annie
-(that war th' little un) kept a chokin' tell I had ter take her up. Jes'
-ez soon ez thet leetle critter got whar she could look 'round an' sense
-things, she 'peared quite satisfied.
-
-I managed ter git t'other un (Fannie) out'n the cradle. They jumped an'
-twisted tell I thought I'd die uv the misery in my back, but whin I pot
-them down they yelled like hallelujer!
-
-'Peard like they'd kept me a-dancin' a powerful long time, whin I heerd
-voices an' I 'lowed Becky war come, but it turned out ter be Mitch
-Pendergrass an' Sonk Levan, with some rabbits an' ther guns. They hed
-stopped by ter git warm.
-
-Whin they seed me a-settin' thar nussin' two babies ter onct they bust
-out larfin'. Fannie hed holt uv my left year an' the leetle hair I hed
-on my head. Annie war a-sittin' on my knee a gazin' at Sonk an' Mitch,
-a-wonderin' why they war a-larfin'.
-
-“I 'low, Uncle Duke,” sez Sonk, “ez yer've tuck ter lamin' nussin' late
-in life. It shows yer pluck ter commence on two ter onct. Whar's Becky?”
-
-“She air gone ter look fer Jim,” sez I. “He went out a-huntin' last
-night an' he ain't never come hum this mornin'. She war oneasy 'bout him
-an' went out ter look fur him. 'Lowed ez she'd be hum afore this.”
-
-Mitch went ter the door an' looked out an' thin cornin' back ter th'
-fire, sez he:
-
-“It's arter twelve o'clock, nigh ez I kin calkerlate. Thar seems ter be
-a big black cloud a-hangin' over th' Top.
-
-“Becky ought'en ter be out in no sich. I reckon we'd better be a-movin'.
-Mebbe Jim's happened ter an acci_tent_ an' she's a-tryin' ter holp him
-by herse'f.
-
-“She's plucky, _she_ is.”
-
-“Waal,” sez Sonk, “Mitch, you give Uncle Duke a lesson in baby feedin'
-(the father uv ten ought'n ter know somethin' bout'n thet business);
-I'll tote in enough wood ter burn a spell, an' thin we'll light out'n
-hyar an' hunt up Becky an' Jim.” Arter Mitch's learnin' me ter hold th'
-spoon un' ter warm th' milk an' ter pot in sweetenin' me an' th' babies
-got on fine. Soon I hed them both sleepin', kivered up ter th' years,
-an' th' cradle sot in a warm place. Then I began ter feel powerful
-hungry, an' leetle Jim, though he ain't sed nothin', hed been a-watchin'
-thet thar spoon an' milk cup while I fed th' babies, an' a openin' his
-mouth long side uf them.
-
-I skun one uv Sonk's rabbits, an' it warn't no time tel th' corn bread
-war a-cookin' in th' bake pan an' th' rabbit a-jumpin' up in th' grease.
-
-Arter dinner Jim set on my knee jes' ez quiet, never axin' fer his mammy
-onct, an' thim babies slept on jes' like they knowed they war twins
-an' ther mammy gone. Pretty soon it began ter get dark an' th' snow war
-a-fallin' ag'in a leetle. Jim went ter sleep an' I pot him ter bed. The
-time 'peared ter go powerful slow arter that, an' I began ter nod.
-
-It must have been eight o'clock whin voices in th' yard waked me. I
-opened th' door an' Mitch called out:
-
-“Stir up the fire an' give us a leetle more light. Thar ain't no bones
-broke, but Jim don't feel egsactly piert.”
-
-They brung him in an' his face war jes' ez pale an' he looked powerful
-weak.
-
-Most of his coat war tore of'en him an' th' blood war a-droppin' from
-a place in his arm. Becky looked plumb wore out, but th' fust thin' she
-did soon ez Jim war on th' bed war ter lean over th' cradle an' sez:
-
-“Uncle Duke, war my babies good?”
-
-“Jes' ez good ez two leetle angels,” I sed, spitin' th' fact th' side uv
-my head war pretty sore from ther pullin' an' scratchin'.
-
-She helped ter git Jim's arm wrapped up an' him warm in bed, an' thin
-began ter get supper, like nothin' hed happened out'n th' common. Whin I
-seed how pale she looked, I sed:
-
-“Jus' yer git out th' plates an' I'll tend the fire. I 'low arter
-cookin' fer nigh thirty year, I kin git a snack yer can eat.”
-
-It twarn't long until another rabbit war in th' pan an' th' coffee
-a-boilin'. Jim looked up whin he smelt the cookin' an' sez:
-
-“I reckon we'll hev a little bigger meat fer to-morrow.”
-
-I war jes' ez curious ez enny ole woman, but everybody was so tired an'
-hungry I didn't ax anny questions.
-
-Becky war a-sittin' in a low chier afore th' fire with leetle Jim on her
-lap a-warm-in' his leetle feet in her han'. I could see th' tears war
-a-chasin' each other down her face.
-
-Mon! but they did eat. Jim, too, and I had' ter git th' cold meat left
-from dinner ter hev enough.
-
-When they hed got up from th' table Sonk sed:
-
-“Mitch, your wife'll need you with all thim chil'n; I 'low you'd better
-be a-goin'. I reckon I'll stop hyer; step by an' tell Sallie ter hev
-breakfast early, an' tell leetle Lular pappy'll be home in th' mornin'.
-You hev th' mules ready early; I am afeard uv th' varmints a-gittin'
-Becky's game.”
-
-Arter Mitch war gone an' things picked up they told me ther story.
-
-'Pears like thar warn't no trouble in a trackin' Becky up ter th' top,
-an' they found her a-tryin' ter work Jim out'n a hole in th' bluff.
-
-Th' night afore, jes' ez Jim war a-makin' fur hum with his game, he hed
-run agin' a big b'ar. He up an' fired, but missed, it bein' most dark.
-The b'ar war on him afore he could load agin, an' makin' a pass at him
-with its big paw, knocked th' musket out'n his han's an' bruck it plumb
-in two. Jim hed jes' time ter make up a saplin' an' Mr. B'ar set down
-under him ter bide his time.
-
-He sot thar a long spell, an' it war most midnight, nigh ez Jim could
-tell, whin the b'ar made off an' lay down, seein' Jim warn't willin' ter
-come down an' be et. Waal, Jim decided thin he would come down an' run
-fur it, 'lowin' a hot chase war better'n freezin' up thar. So down he
-dumb an' lit out, Mr. B'ar arter him. Jes' ez they struck the bluff path
-the b'ar got so near thet it riz up an' grabbed him. Jim bein' quick
-got away, leavin' Mr. B'ar most uv his coat ter 'member him by, but in
-backin' away he wint too far an' fell inter a crack in th' bluff.
-
-It warn't very nice failin', but the crack warn't over four feet deep
-an' full uv leaves at the bottom, so bein' out'n the wind they made a
-more comfortable place ter spend th' night in then th' saplin'.
-
-Pretty soon Jim hed occasion ter know he war hurt some.
-
-The bar had tore his left arm right smart an' in fallin' his face hed
-got skun up dreadful. Th' b'ar walked up an' down, a-smellin' down thet
-crack sorter much like, but by-an'-by he went off a leetle an' lay down,
-I spect arguin' with hisse'f thet Jim would come out'n th' hole liken he
-did out'n th' saplin.'
-
-Jim wrapped up his arm the best he could with a piece uv his shirt
-sleeve.
-
-It war daylight when he waked an' th' fust thin' he seed war th' head uv
-thet thar b'ar a-lookin' down at him.
-
-He knowed it war'n't no use ter holler, so he jes' lay thar thinkin'
-'bout Becky an' th' babies an' leetle Jim--wonderin' ef she'd think he'd
-quit her.
-
-The thought uv Becky's thinkin' enny bad uv him made him groan with a
-new kind uv pain, an' whin he moved a leetle he fainted away. I reckon
-thet war jes' 'bout'n th' time Becky got thar, fer she said she heerd a
-groan down in thet hole an' thin all war still. She war jes' a-goin' ter
-call whin she spied thet b'ar a-lookin' down inter th' crack.
-
-'Bout ten foot to th' left uv whar Jim war fust the mounting breaks
-away, leavin' a pres'pus uv forty foot or more, but thar's a leetle
-ledge at th' top whar you kin look inter thet crack in th' bluff.
-
-It war fur thet leetle ledge the b'ar made jes' ez Becky halted. When
-it clumb down she made sure it would git ter Jim (she war sure he war in
-thet crack), so she follered quiet ez she could, an th' snow bein' soft
-kept th' b'ar from hearing her--until she war right behind it--whar it
-war leanin' down over th' edge a-tryin' ter git inter th' crack. 'Fore
-it could turn on her she gave it a powerful push with her hickory stick,
-an' being so fur over an' so heavy the b'ar lost hisse'f, an' down he
-went with a crash into th' underbrush.
-
-Becky'd gone too, only her dress war caught in some bushes an' thet
-saved her.
-
-She couldn't do nothin' but lay on th' ground an' rest a spell, thin she
-crawled ter th' edge an' looked down ter make sure th' b'ar war dead.
-
-Hearin' Jim groan agin she got up an' went ter him.
-
-He war clean gone in a faint agin before she could get down ter him.
-When she got him to again she gave him th' flask uv milk she hed
-brought.
-
-She worked with him ter keep him warm, but she couldn't do much,
-th' place war so norrow. It seemed an age before he got so he knowed
-anythin', an' she had made up her mind ter leave him an' go fur help
-whin Sonk and Mitch got thar. An' 'twixt 'm they soon got Jim out an'
-laid him on the ole army blanket I hed sent, an' they axed Becky how
-come he thar. She told them what she knowed, but they wouldn't believe
-about th' b'ar until she showed them whar it lay. Whin Mitch looked over
-an' seed fur hisse'f he jis' sed 'By Gosh!' an' runnin' back to whar he
-could scramble down made down th' side like a coon. Sonk war about ter
-follow, when he stopped an' turned ter Becky, tellin' her ter see ter
-Jim till they could come up agin. He give her a bottle uv applejack
-out'n his pocket, which he said he carried fur snake bite. Becky never
-said nothin' 'bout'n snakes most in general stayin' in th' ground in
-winter time, but gave a little of the liquor ter Jim an' tuck a leetle
-dram herse'f.
-
-I reckon ef it hadn't been fer Sonk's snake medicine, they both a-been
-down sick from th' cold an' wet.
-
-Ez soon ez th' men could git a good kiverin' uv snow over th' b'ar ter
-keep wild cats from pesterin' it, they kem up an' took up th' ends uv
-Jim's blanket ter fotch him hum. It war slow work, th' path bein' steep
-an' norrow, an' Jim heavy, so it war eight o'clock afore they got down.
-Waal, th' next day they got th' bar down, an' mon! he war a big 'un.
-
-They skun him an' put th' meat up fur sale at th' store. A young fellar
-from th' North ez war a-stayin' at th' station give Becky $12 fur th'
-hide, ter take home ter his gal, I reckon.
-
-The meat sold well, an' altergether I reckon Becky never seed so much
-money at one time afore in her life. She wanted ter divide with Sonk
-an' Mitch, but they wouldn't hear to it, an' she couldn't make them took
-nary cent. Afore th' week war out she went ter th' station an' bought
-shoes an' warm clothes fur all an' enough ter last two winters, an' soon
-Becky's fingers war busy. She made some red flannel shirts fur me,
-'cause she sed they be good fer th' misery in my back.
-
-An' whin I sed my fire hed been out a week an' I'd eat enough uv other
-folks' corn bread an' coffee, Becky up and sed:
-
-“I 'low ez yer'd better stay, Uncle Duke; I've got a sight uv sewin'
-ter do an' yer got ter be so handy with th' babies I can't hardly spare
-yer.”
-
-Arter thet we jined corn fiel's an' next year war a powerful good one
-fer craps an' fruit.
-
-I tended th' chil'n while Becky went fur berries and did her peddlin'.
-
-We ain't a-gettin' rich, but we has a plenty, an' I don't reckon we air
-got anythin' in a worldly line to ax th' Lord fur he ain't already done
-give us.
-
-[Illustration: 5184]
-
-
-
-
-A CIGARETTE FROM CARCINTO, By Edward French
-
-_A Bit of Mexican Adventure_.
-
-
-|WE were sitting in the hotel in San Antonio, and the conversation had
-taken that satisfactory turn and confidential coloring which it will
-take amongst congenial companions round an open wood fire.
-
-[Illustration: 9185]
-
-We had been expressing our individual opinions about men and things,
-especially men, and had derived a sleepy satisfaction from our general
-criticisms. There were men among us who had seen a good deal of frontier
-life, and, as one man said, “he had seen so many men die with their
-boots on, it seemed the natural end.” My nearest neighbor in the circle
-was a young artist from New Orleans, known throughout the city as “Jim
-the Painter,” from the art he practiced to get his living. He turned and
-asked me if I knew Jack Dunton; and when I denied the honor, he said:
-“Well, you ought to; he is a map of the whole Indian country.”
-
-This awakened my interest. I found that Dunton was living in San
-Antonio, that his life had been really wonderful in experiences and
-adventures, that he was very intelligent as well as recklessly
-brave, and finally, that his acquaintance was worth any man's time to
-cultivate. Later in the evening we walked over to Dunton's office,
-a long, pleasant room in the second story of a flat-roofed _adobe_
-building that covered nearly half an acre. Both its stories were
-crammed full of the goods he sold--wagons, harnesses, and all sorts of
-agricultural tools.
-
-Dunton's own room was a mighty interesting place, principally in its
-decorations. The walls and doorways were hung with bright-colored and
-strange-figured Mojave and Navajoe blankets, skins and weapons were
-scattered around or arranged as trophies, while clumsy and rude
-implements of Aztec and Mexican fashioning, from Yucatan to Chihuahua,
-were suspended against the sides, or heaped in the corners. A large open
-fire, with blazing cedar logs, filled the room with the aromatic odor
-so pleasant and characteristic of that wood, and lighted it with
-fitful glares. There were many interesting stories connected with this
-collection, and every article in the room seemed to remind Dunton of an
-experience or incident in his varied career. After being introduced and
-comfortably seated in a chair, he passed us cigars, and while we were
-lighting these preliminaries to sociability he drew a square of corn
-husk from one side-pocket of his sack coat and a pinch of tobacco from
-the other side-pocket, and quietly rolled a cigarette, which gave out a
-pungent, penetrating odor. It was not disagreeable, but it struck me as
-being peculiar, even for Texas. Upon remarking that it seemed different
-from ordinary tobacco, Dunton replied, “It is, and I have good reason to
-like it, for once it saved my life.”
-
-This aroused my curiosity, and with some little urging he told us the
-story. “This tobacco,” said Dunton, “comes from the town of Carcinto,
-quite a mining settlement of _adobe_ houses and stockades, surrounding
-a Mexican convict station in the center of the state of Chihuahua. It is
-made by the convicts, who treat the ordinary tobacco with the juice of
-a native plant, which gives it the pungent flavor you notice and, I
-suspect, a slight narcotic power; be that as it may, now that I am used
-to it, other tobacco is flat and tasteless. I was down there some years
-ago, trying to sell the mine-owners some carts, harness, and things in
-my line, and I became well acquainted with the nature of these convicts,
-and I tell you, I would rather take my chances in a den of mountain
-lions than among those fellows when they revolt. At such times they are
-madly insane, and nothing is too hellish for them.
-
-“I had made a good thing of my deal and was anxiously waiting for an
-escort,--for I had four thousand Mexican dollars, and a man of my shape
-takes no chances in toting money around in that country.
-
-“The day that I remember particularly--and you will see I have reason
-to--was the day before I was to go out from the mine with the mule
-train. That afternoon I went in the levels with Senor Bustino, one of
-the owners, a gentleman, every inch of him--and I tell you, no finer
-gentleman walks the earth than a high-caste Mexican of Castilian blood.
-
-“I had sold them a few dozen American pickaxes, and one of the convict
-gangs was to try them that day for the first time. It was the first lot
-of pickaxes ever used in that mine, and, as the sequel proved, the last.
-The men were doing with them twice the business they had formerly done
-with their clumsy heavy hoes. Two soldiers with _escopetas_ were on
-guard, and two overseers with pistols and heavy canes were directing
-the work. To get a better and nearer view, Sefior Bustino and I crowded
-through until we came to the rotten ledge filled with the silver, upon
-which they worked. The convicts stopped and gazed upon us curiously,
-some of them pushing back their long black hair out of their eyes
-and staring with undisguised wonder at me, for I was a _gringo_, a
-_heretico_, and a strange object to them in those early days, with my
-paler skin and peculiar dress. Near me was a large black fellow, bare
-to the waist.. He was short-necked and broad-shouldered, and his cheeks
-were so high as to partly close his little fierce eyes; his nose was low
-and flat, while his chin was sharp and prominent, with a deep scowl;
-in fact, a bundle of animal appetites and passions done up in a hideous
-form. As we passed he drew from the folds of his drawers--the only
-clothing he wore--a pinch of tobacco and a com husk, and making a
-cigarette he stepped to one of the grease-wood torches and lighted it,
-blowing out a great cloud of pungent, aromatic smoke from his broad
-nostrils, that filled the space around us with the odor you noticed from
-my cigarette.
-
-“That was my first experience with that tobacco, and, indeed, my first
-smell of its peculiar odor, and I have never forgotten it. I dined that
-evening with the old senor and was introduced to his family; his wife, a
-Mexican lady prematurely aged--as they all are, two daughters, handsome
-as angels, and was shown the picture of their son, a young man who was
-then being educated in Paris. They were delightful people, especially
-to one who had been trucking for weeks across the dusty plains of
-Chihuahua, with only _peons_ and mules for company, and we had a fiery
-Mexican dinner, spiced with the jokes of the village priest, who was an
-honored guest. At ten, with the hearty wishes of the whole family, and
-after the elaborate Mexican custom of withdrawal, I left them. As I
-sauntered out in the moonlight I could not shut out of my mind the
-brutish face of the convict in the mine. Perhaps the round faces and
-handsome eyes of the senor's pretty daughters may have emphasized the
-memory of the convict's ugly head; otherwise I was in a happy mood.
-
-“I turned the corner of the street and entered a short dark lane that
-led toward the prison stockade. There was an occasional _adobe_ house,
-but the street was mostly lined with the miserable mud _jacals_ of the
-poorer Mexicans. I had hardly gotten well into it when I sniffed
-the same pungent odor that the convict's cigarette had given out.
-It startled me a trifle, conjuring up, as it did, the hideous mental
-picture of the man. I had but just realized this association when I
-heard the clanging of the cathedral bells in that hurried, nervous
-manner which has alarm in its every note--for the tone of a bell always
-partakes of the state that its ringer is in. I heard the sound of
-approaching voices, loud and fierce, mixed with the alarming notes of
-the bells, and I stepped into the dark doorway of the nearest house.
-Next, there was the spatting of bare feet on the hard street, and a
-yelling crowd hurriedly rushed by my hiding-place, leaving a trailing
-smell of the same tobacco. I noticed the gleam of white handles in the
-moon-lighted street that I had seen in the yellow light of the mine,
-and then I knew that the convicts had revolted, and that they were armed
-with the pick-axes I had sold the mining company.
-
-“The bells continued to clang out their terror, and the distant shouting
-became blended into the continuous murmur that you hear from a distant
-crowd of excited people. Once in a while the roar of an _escopeta_ would
-be heard, and soon I saw a magenta glow in the sky, and I knew the town
-had been fired. Then followed the rapid snapping of pistols, and soon
-the bellow of the old brass _escopetas_ denoted that the guards had
-mustered, and that there was an organized resistance to the revolt. All
-this occurred quicker than I can tell it. I concluded to get back into
-the broad street I had just come out of, for if there is to be shooting,
-I want a clear space and as much light as I can get.
-
-“Just as I turned the corner, on a run, with both of my colts on a
-shooting level--for, by the way, it is always best to come upon your
-enemy suddenly and surprise him before he knows you are there--I
-saw several bodies in the street, and in the distance some dozen men
-retreating. I stopped near by the first body I came to; and to my horror
-I saw it was the still warm corpse of Senor Bustino. As I paused and
-stooped to more closely examine, I thought I could detect the lingering
-smell of that hellish convict's tobacco. Had the fiends attacked my
-host's home and dragged him insensate through the streets, or had he
-been slain whilst hurrying to the post of duty, at the sound of the
-alarm he knew well the meaning of? If the former, good God! what had
-been the fate of his wife and lovely daughters? The very thought
-momentarily unnerved me; and if the convicts had not yet wreaked their
-vengeance, could I reach them in time to be of effective service? Louder
-and louder roared the tumult, nearer and nearer came the flashing,
-glinting lights of torch and pistol, and as I swept round into the
-street in which Senor Bustino's house stood I could see, pouring down
-the hill toward it, a demoniac gang led by the bare-breasted convict
-whose baleful face had haunted me.
-
-“I found the senora and her daughters alone and, thank God! unharmed;
-but not a moment too soon, for even as I hurried them through into the
-darkness of the night the convicts, with curses on their tongues, lust
-in their heart, and red ruin in their hands, swarmed into the house.
-A momentary check came as their leader and another fell in the narrow
-door, beneath the fire of my two revolvers, and the flames which leaped
-up from that erewhile home lent their last protection in the shadow they
-cast, which enabled us, by availing ourselves of it, to escape. By the
-time we arrived at my hotel the convicts had flown to the mountains and
-we heard the story of the revolt. If I had not smelled that tobacco I
-should not have concealed myself in the doorway, my life would not have
-been worth a picayune, and you may imagine what would have been the fate
-of my hostess and her household. Senor Bustino, it appeared, had fallen
-a victim to the high chivalry which prompted him, hearing the bell and
-knowing its meaning, to hastily summon his servants, and with five or
-six armed _peons_ hasten out to overtake me and bid me return to his
-house until all danger was over. He had met the convicts, who had
-attacked him and struck him down, while most of his servants fled.”
-
-Dunton paused, made and lighted another cigarette, and continued: “I
-could not get away for a month, for it was not safe for a small party
-to leave the town. I brought out some of that tobacco as a curiosity
-and learned to like it. I send for more every year where it is still
-prepared, in the prison-pens.”
-
-“It is sometimes said, 'Follow your nose and it will take you out of
-danger,' and in my case the proverb proved true. Sometimes, when I sit
-here alone, half sleepily watching the curling smoke wreaths, I can
-almost see the place again, and the rings of smoke shape themselves into
-a horde of convict demons killing the poor old noble senor, whose elder
-daughter I have married. And now you know what I owe to the pungent
-aroma of a cigarette from Carcinto.”
-
-
-
-
-ANTAEUS, By Frank M. Bicknell
-
-
-[Illustration: 0199]
-
-[Illustration: 9200]
-
-ATE one night, after having been a week out of town, I was returning
-home by a short cut across fields, when, on coming upon the street
-again, I found my path barred by a huge, hulking fellow, whose
-unexpected appearance startled me not a little. This was my introduction
-to Antaeus, whose better acquaintance I was to make later under rather
-peculiar circumstances. Antaeus was not a highway robber, but a highway
-roller, and when he first confronted me he was drawn up beside the
-road, enjoying an elephantine slumber after his hard day's labor--being,
-despite his formidable aspect, quiescent and inoffensive.
-
-I am not sure that it is usual to confer upon steam-rollers the
-dignity of a name, but my friend had one, and I read it on the neat,
-black-lettered brass plate affixed to the side of his boiler, near the
-smoke-stack. This, I take it, was the nearest practicable approach to
-hanging a locket about his neck that could be managed, and I have
-always felt grateful to his unknown sponsors for their little act of
-consideration.
-
-I cannot think of Antaeus otherwise than as a creature--not simply as a
-creation--as a reasoning and responsible being, rather than as a docile,
-slavish piece of mechanism; but to the unimaginative he seemed to be
-under the domination of a tolerably clean specimen of humanity whom I
-shall call the Driver.
-
-It was nearly a fortnight after our first meeting when I next saw
-Antaeus, for he was occupied in parts of the town remote from that in
-which I lived. I heard him occasionally, however, as he passed through
-the neighborhood after dark, _en route_ for another field of labor, or
-propelling his weary weight toward the shed under which he was lodged
-for his Sunday's rest. On such occasions, when I heard him lumbering by,
-I used to fancy he was taking an after-supper promenade and puffing a
-meditative cigar as he went along.
-
-At length, after he had come several times for pleasure, or his own
-convenience, he made us a professional call and buckled down to work
-at repairing a strip of street which had long stood in need! of his
-services. Antaeus was with us for several weeks and during his stay
-I became, in a measure, “chummy” with the Driver, from whom I learned
-various interesting facts about my muscular friend.
-
-Antaeus was a “fifteen-tonner,” and his market price was $4,000; he was
-about sixteen feet long by seven wide at his widest part; he consumed
-from three to four hundred pounds of coal per diem; his strength was
-equal to that of more horses than I can recollect; he came down upon the
-dust at the rate of two tons weight per foot in width; and, when put to
-his best, he could settle into what was intended to be its final resting
-place about two thousand square yards of new road material per day of
-ten hours. As regarded wheels he was tricycular, that is, he rested
-upon one roller in front and two behind, the former being also used
-for steering purposes. He had two small coal-bunkers in the rear, a
-reasonably commodious space, with a spring seat, for the Driver, and a
-good-sized awning overhead. He worked under a low pressure of I forget
-just how many pounds of steam, and when traveling for pleasure could do
-rather more miles a day than could a crack trotter per hour when put to
-his best paces.
-
-These particulars I learned during the first week that Antaeus was
-busied in our neighborhood. It was thus that I took the preliminary
-steps toward making his acquaintance and came to be on pleasant speaking
-terms with him, as it were. For the subsequent intimacy between Antaeus
-and myself, neither he nor I were wholly responsible.
-
-A young lady had appeared at the house across the way. She was pretty,
-but I noticed her more particularly on account of the seemingly
-boundless capabilities of her wardrobe. She had a fresh gown for every
-new day, or at least, in the course of the first fortnight she had
-displayed a series of fourteen charming costumes, which I could no
-more hope to describe than could a North Greenland Eskimo to write
-an intelligent treatise on the flora of the torrid zone. I sat at my
-window, not too near, every morning when she came out of doors, and
-admired her through a spy-glass. This may appear like a piece of
-impertinence--perhaps it was--but I shall urge in my defence the fact
-that the street between us was nearly a hundred feet wide, and our
-two houses were set so far back that even by using my comparatively
-short-sighted little telescope, I could not bring her much nearer
-than we might actually have been without its aid in a more crowded
-neighborhood.
-
-One afternoon I stood talking with the Driver, while Antaeus was
-awaiting the deposit of more material by two tip-carts which were
-attached to his service, when she passed on the sidewalk, and I imagined
-she glanced at me with a certain degree of interest, as if she recalled
-having seen me before--or was it Antaeus who was the more worthy object
-of' her attention? Had I dared I should have smiled a little--merely
-a vague, sketchy, tentative smile--but, hardly thinking it prudent, I
-resisted the temptation and tried, as the photographers put it, to look
-natural; with the probable result of looking only cross. After having
-been her neighbor for more than two weeks it seemed as if I ought to
-have the right to speak, but proper consideration for _les convenances_
-forbade. It was vacation season, I was alone in the house, and, there
-being no womankind to make the necessary advances, I knew not how long
-it might be ere I could be formally introduced.
-
-[Illustration: 0204]
-
-While I was meditating upon this state of affairs--peculiarly
-unfortunate for me--she walked on and disappeared around a corner. A few
-minutes later the fire-alarm bell sounded the number of a box near by,
-and presently our beautiful fire-engine, all glittering with gold and
-silver plate, the just pride of the town, dashed rather noisily by. At
-sight of this brilliant appearance Antaeus gave vent to a species of
-snort and started up as if to follow, but naturally his lumbering pace
-was no match for the swiftness of the other machine, and from the first
-he was left hopelessly in the rear. I went off to see where the fire
-was--it proved to be of small account--and forgot Antaeus entirely until
-that night, when he recalled himself to my mind by figuring in an odd
-and whimsical dream.
-
-The scene I have just described was reproduced in part, the Driver,
-however, being eliminated from it. I thought I was standing beside
-Antaeus when the young lady appeared, only to disappear. As she went
-I sighed regretfully, whereupon something happened which ought to have
-surprised me, and would have done so anywhere else than in a dream. As
-if in sympathy with me, Antaeus heaved a sigh also--a most ponderous
-one--and thus addressed me:
-
-“I can understand your feelings,” he said, in a low, hoarse voice. “You
-are longing for what seems the unattainable. Alas! so am I. We might
-mingle our tears,” he went on, beginning to exude moisture around the
-gauges; “or better still,” he added, as if struck by an idea, “perhaps
-we can be of assistance to each other.”
-
-“In what way?” I asked, dubiously.
-
-“I might help you to know _her_ if you would help me to an acquaintance
-with the charming Electra.”
-
-Intuitively I divined that Electra must be the steam fire-engine. Big,
-brawny Antaeus was in love! The ludicrousness of the notion did not
-strike me then as it did afterward. On the contrary, it seemed to be one
-of the most natural things imaginable.
-
-“Yes,” he said, in response to my thoughts, “I am passionately enamored
-of her. I desire unutterably to gain her friendship, her esteem, her
-love--even though she may scorn me. I realize that her station in life
-is far above mine. I am only a plodder, while she is--Did you see her
-pass me like a flash of light this afternoon? Was she not entrancing,
-enthralling, irresistible! Ah, me! when she bestows her love it will
-be upon one of those fast, dashing railway fellows, I dare say. Yet
-I should like her to know that I am her friend, that I would risk any
-danger, that I would go through the torments of--of the repair
-shop, that I would give my last puff to serve her. I may be ugly
-and slow-going, and awkward and ungainly--Do you think I am so very
-ungainly, that is, for one in my walk of life?” he broke off, in rather
-piteous query.
-
-“Not at all,” I hastened to assure him; “when we consider your great
-adaptability to your--your vocation, I am sure your form would be
-considered remarkably symmetrical.”
-
-“Thank you!” he exclaimed, gratefully, “and whether or not such be the
-case, at least I am honest and straightforward and true-hearted, though
-I do blow my own whistle in saying it.”
-
-“You certainly are.”
-
-“Then I trust I am not too aspiring in wishing to be numbered among
-Electra's friends. I hope she would not be ashamed to acknowledge me if
-she met me in the street.”
-
-“I should hope not, indeed,” I murmured, when he paused for an
-encouraging word.
-
-“Shall we call it a bargain, then, that I aid you to an introduction to
-the young lady, your neighbor, and in return you so contrive as to bring
-about a meeting between Electra and me?”
-
-“A bargain it is, with all my heart,” I assented, grasping and shaking
-the handle of his throttle-lever, “and the sooner the better for the
-carrying out of it.”
-
-“Very good; call on me to-morrow, and I will see what can be done for
-you.”
-
-“Shall--shall I come in business hours?” I asked, hesitatingly, thinking
-he might possibly prefer to attend to the matter between twelve and one.
-
-“Of course,” he answered, “in business hours, certainly. I mean
-business, and I hope you do.”
-
-I hastened to set his mind at rest on that point, and, after promising
-to come on the following afternoon, I shook his handle again, which had
-the effect of starting him off, and so our interview ended.
-
-When I awoke in the morning, my dream seemed so vividly real that I
-resolved to risk making myself ridiculous in my own eyes and to keep
-my appointment with Antaeus. Accordingly, after lunch, I strolled out
-toward the section of highway where he was at work. Soon I caught sight
-of a light-complexioned wagon standing on the opposite side of the
-street. Attached to it were two plump, blonde ponies, garbed in
-russet harness, and, on the front seat, reins in hand, talking with an
-acquaintance upon the sidewalk, sat my young lady.
-
-The natty vehicle had one other occupant, a sooty-faced pug, sitting up
-very straight on the cushion beside his mistress, with quite the air of
-a personage of distinction. In front of the ponies' noses was a horse of
-another breed, a four-legged structure of wood, upholding a sign-board,
-upon which was painted in glaring letters the word, “Danger,” and in
-smaller ones, “No Passing; Steam Roller Running.”
-
-Upon this scene presently entered an important actor--I might call him
-the heavy villian--Antaeus, grumbling, groaning, puffing and perspiring
-in his efforts to consolidate the various ingredients for a durable
-roadbed that had been laid down in his path. As he drew nearer he gave
-utterance to a significant “ahem!”--as I thought--by way of calling my
-attention to what was about to happen. Apparently he was going to keep
-his part of our agreement. A suspicion of what might be his idea began
-to dawn upon me. He purposed frightening the ponies, an incipient
-runaway would ensue, and I should be enabled to play the part of heroic
-rescuer. There were no very original features in the scheme, but it
-struck me as being quite practicable nevertheless; consequently I was
-somewhat surprised and grieved when nothing of the nature of what I had
-anticipated took place.
-
-But Antaeus was more subtle than I. He wished to avoid the appearance
-of collusion between us, which might have been given by the execution
-of the rudimentary strategem I have outlined. (Or perhaps the real
-explanation of it is that he knew the fat little beasts of ponies were
-of too phlegmatic a temperament to be disturbed by a bugaboo.) At any
-rate they only blinked sleepily at Antaeus and then went off into a
-peaceful doze, entirely unmoved by his nearness. With the black-vis-aged
-pug, however, it was quite otherwise. He regarded the monster as
-an interloper, a trespasser, and he began to bark at him angrily.
-Perceiving that his scoldings had no effect, he lost his temper
-entirely, and, jumping down from the carriage seat, ran forward toward
-the advancing engine and continued his barking with redoubled force
-and fury. His mistress' attention was now aroused, and, seeing how
-persistently he put himself in the track of the roller, she became
-uneasy. She called to him persuasively, authoritatively, beseechingly,
-but he paid her no heed. Apparently he had more faith in himself than
-had King Canute when he gave his memorable lesson to his courtiers by
-the seashore.
-
-From his position in the rear the Driver could not see the dog, and I
-doubt if he clearly understood the situation, for he made no attempt to
-avert the threatened catastrophe. The ridiculous animal stood his ground
-and kept up his remonstrances against the invader; the alarmed young
-lady threw an eloquently imploring look at me; and Antaeus came on,
-stolid, grim and impassive. Meanwhile, strangely enough--as it seems
-to me now--I remained inactive until my coadjutor, justly irritated,
-suddenly growled out what I took to mean:
-
-“Come! come; stupid, now is your time; why don't you bestir yourself?”
-
-Then I awakened to a full sense of my responsibilities and
-opportunities, and rushing to the fore, seized the rash and obstinate
-pug by the scruff of the neck and restored him, rescued from the
-Juggernaut, to the arms of his grateful mistress.
-
-Thus did Antaeus fulfill his share of our agreement.
-
-This little incident broke the ice. In less than a week the young lady
-and I knew each other almost intimately. It transpired that we were in
-fact old acquaintances. That is to say, she remembered me when I was at
-home during one college vacation, and she hoped I had not forgotten the
-small miss who used to come over and play tea-party with my sister. I
-replied that I should hope not, indeed, and mentally took myself to task
-for not being surer about it. The boy of seventeen is less likely to be
-impressed with the girl of eight than is the young man of twenty-eight
-with the maiden of nineteen. I was positive that at the end of another
-eleven years I should have had no trouble in recalling her to mind.
-
-I am not a tennis enthusiast, but I will admit that my white flannel
-suit had a chance to contrast itself with the velvety green of the lawn
-across the way rather frequently after that. It was a convenient and
-plausible excuse for being with her a good deal.
-
-[Illustration: 0212]
-
-The pleasure of her society was worth some physical discomfort, and
-I couldn't complain if I did feel for a week or more as if I had been
-given a sound drubbing. One day, after we had finished a series
-of games--in which mine was second-best record--who should appear,
-laboriously rumbling by, but my well-nigh forgotten friend Antaeus.
-
-“What an uncouth piece of mechanism that is!” she exclaimed, turning
-to look at him--“a sort of caricature of a locomotive, one might say. A
-veritable snail for traveling, too, isn't it?”
-
-“Yes; his--I mean it's--best speed does not exceed five miles an hour, I
-am told. A man might walk as fast as that with a little exertion.”
-
-“I wonder if it is a pleasant mode of riding--in a steam-roller?” she
-said, half musing, her gaze still resting on Antaeus. “At least one
-would have plenty of leisure for viewing the scenery along the way. I
-should rather like to try a short ride on it.”
-
-“Should you, really,” I asked, doubting whether or not she was in
-earnest.
-
-“Yes, indeed, I should.” If she had been half in jest before she was
-serious now. “It would be a new experience.”
-
-“Hardly an agreeable one for a lady, though,” I commented.
-
-“Oh, that would be a secondary consideration,” she returned with a
-shrug. “I should value the experience as an experience, and I should be
-glad to have it to put on my list.”
-
-I looked inquisitive and she proceeded to explain.
-
-“I keep a diary--not a regulation school girl's diary, in which one
-feels bound to write something every single day of the year, whether
-there is anything worth recording or not--but a collection of memoranda
-in which I take a good deal of satisfaction. Mine is a classified diary
-and is contained in about a dozen different books which began as
-mere covers with nothing between. By putting in leaves when there was
-occasion the volumes grew until now several of them have attained to a
-very respectable thickness.”
-
-“Might I ask, without indiscretion, for a hint as to the nature of their
-contents, or would that be----”
-
-“Certainly; there is no secret about them. In fact I have been known to
-show their pages to certain of my friends, and, to be quite honest, I
-am rather proud of them. As far as I can recollect now, they are labeled
-with these titles: 'Books I have read, Places I have visited, Notable
-personages I have seen, Odd or eccentric characters I have met, Strange
-sights I have seen, Curious dishes of which I have eaten, Rides I have
-taken----”
-
-“Do you mean,” I interposed, “that every time you take a ride you enter
-an account of it in your collection?”
-
-“I mean that whenever I ride in or on any unusual sort of conveyance
-I make a note of it. That particular book dates far back into my
-childhood. The idea of starting it was suggested to me by a ride I took
-on a tame ostrich in South Africa.”
-
-My increased respect for a young lady who had ridden upon an ostrich
-near, if not actually in his native desert, will be understood by the
-untraveled.
-
-“You have seen something of the world,” I remarked.
-
-“Yes,” she admitted; “I have been about with my father a great deal. An
-uncle of mine, who abhors what he calls globe-trotting, tells people,
-with a look of mock commiseration on his face, that I have been
-everywhere except at the North Pole and in a Trappist monastery. A
-slight exaggeration that, and yet not so very far from the truth either.
-I have visited most of the inhabited countries of the globe, I
-think, and I have had a chance to try riding in a good many peculiar
-conveyances. I have ridden on an elephant in India, on a dromedary in
-Egypt, in a sort of horse-litter in Persia, in a man-carriage in Japan,
-in a sledge on bare ground at Funchal, on a log-raft down the Rhine, on
-an Indian's back in Mexico, in the cab of a locomotive on the Southern
-Pacific, in a fast newspaper train out of New York, on an open car moved
-by gravity--and moved very fast, too--on that wonderful railroad
-in Peru, on a small landslide among the White Mountains, in a
-dwelling-house being moved through the streets of this town, in---- but
-I will spare you further enumeration.''
-
-“I hope, however, that you will let me read the catalogue for myself
-some time. I no longer wonder that so successful a collector should
-be eager for an additional specimen. I happen to have some little
-acquaintance with the man who runs our steam-roller; perhaps I could
-arrange to have your wish for a ride gratified.”
-
-“Oh, if you _only_ could!” she exclaimed, looking so hopefully expectant
-that I secretly vowed the thing should come to pass or I would know the
-most unanswerable of reasons why.
-
-I had learned that Antaeus was neither a native nor a naturalized
-citizen of our town, but that he owed allegiance to a firm of
-contractors in a distant city, whose delegate and sole representative
-here was the Driver; consequently if I could prevail upon him to lend
-Antaeus I need apprehend no interference from the town authorities.
-
-I began upon the Driver the next forenoon. My persuasiveness took a
-conventional form, for, not being gifted with an oily tongue, I was
-forced to trust for success in a great measure upon my chance of
-stupefying the Driver's conscience with the fumes of several superfine
-cigars. I spent about two hours in company with Antaeus, taking many
-turns up and down the street with him for the special purpose of
-observing his manners and customs. With the advice and consent of his
-guardian I learned to start, to stop, to reverse, and to steer to my own
-satisfaction. I had intended to broach the important question that day,
-but, fearing I might not yet have sufficiently blunted the Driver's
-moral sensibilities, my courage failed at the critical moment and I
-permitted myself the expensive luxury of procrastination.
-
-The next day I found the task no easier, and so put it off again, but on
-the day after I awakened to the fact that delays are dangerous and made
-the fateful plunge. I frankly told the Driver the whole story, under
-the belief that he would be less likely to refuse the petition of a lady
-than one made in my own name.
-
-If he had suspected all the while, from my persistent attentions, that I
-had an axe to grind he did not mortify me by showing it. He accepted
-my fifth cigar as he had my first, with an air of supposing it to be
-offered from motives of the most disinterested friendliness.
-
-I did not meet with success in the outset. The Driver had grave doubts
-as to the propriety of “loaning” a steam-roller. Had he been a Frenchman
-he might reasonably have urged that, like a tooth-brush, _ça ne se prête
-pas_. However, I overcame his scruples in the end, and, probably in
-the belief that “if it were done 'twere well it were done quickly,” he
-agreed to deliver Antaeus into my charge that evening.
-
-Accordingly, not long after sunset, I went across the street and called
-for the young lady. I realized fully that her father and mother would
-not have approved of our escapade, but they were absent from home and
-I tried to believe it was not my duty to stand toward her _in loco
-parentium_. She was a bit wilful too, and I feared my remonstrances
-would do no good unless I carried them to the extreme of refusing my
-assistance, which, after my ready offer of it, would have been uncivil
-and unkind.
-
-At an unfrequented spot, on a broad highway, near the outskirts of the
-town, Antaeus and the Driver--the former under head of steam, and both
-smoking--were awaiting us. We met them there by appointment at nine
-o'clock. After many instructions and cautions touching the fire, the
-water, the steam, the use of the levers, the necessity of keeping a
-sharp lookout ahead, etc., the Driver left me in sole command, as proud
-as a boy with his first bicycle.
-
-“You find you have got into rather close quarters here, don't you?” said
-I, as I perched myself upon the high seat, from which the machine was
-most conveniently directed.
-
-“The passenger accommodations might be more spacious, but all things
-considered I hardly think I shall complain,” laughingly returned my
-companion, who had seated herself on one of the coal-boxes behind me. “I
-took the precaution not to wear my best frock, so I can stow myself away
-in small compass without fear of damage.”
-
-Having in mind the trouble I had taken, her delight in the novelty of
-her situation was highly gratifying to me. She eagerly asked about the
-functions of the various levers, try-cocks, and gauges, and insisted
-upon being allowed to experiment with them, as well as with the steering
-gear, herself. The knowledge, she said, might be useful to her in the
-future. Antaeus proved to be entirely docile and allowed himself to
-be guided as easily as a well-broken flesh and blood horse. The big
-fly-wheel revolved, the fussy little piston pumped up and down with
-an ado that seemed absurd considering the slow progress resulting, the
-steam fretted and hissed, the three massive rollers bore with all
-their might upon the hard surface of the macadam, and thus crunching,
-clanking, thumping and rattling, we sluggishly made our way into the
-obscurity of the night.
-
-By and by, in the course of our journey, we came to a gentle rise, the
-ascent of which made Antaeus puff rather laboriously. For a moment my
-passenger looked slightly uneasy. “Why does it do that?” she asked.
-
-“The exertion of going up hill makes him breathe a little hard,
-naturally,” I answered, reassuring her. “He is feeling in fine
-condition, though,” I added, inspecting the steam-gauge by the light of
-my lantern; “the effect of a plentiful supply of oats, doubtless.”
-
-“You speak of _it_ as _he_,” she said, questioningly.
-
-“Certainly; why not?” I retorted. “He seems to me unequivocally
-masculine.”
-
-“True,” she assented; “still in personifying inanimate objects, are they
-not more frequently made members of the other sex?”
-
-“Undoubtedly they are, but it strikes me as a ridiculous
-custom--particularly in the case of great machines. No engine, however
-big, black or ungainly, but it must be spoken of by the feminine
-pronoun. It is hardly a compliment to your sex, is it? Think of the
-incongruity of putting, for instance, a huge steamboat, named for the
-president of the company, into the feminine gender!”
-
-She laughed at my fancy, but her merriment did not wound my
-sensibilities. “So it's--I beg pardon, _his_--name is Antaeus, is it?”
-
-“Yes, in honor of that old giant--do you recollect?--whom Hercules
-overcame.”
-
-“By lifting him quite off the ground, because as often as he came in
-contact with Mother Earth his strength was renewed? Yes, I recall the
-story, and I can see a certain propriety in the name. I rather think
-this fellow, if he were to be lifted off the ground, could scarcely use
-his great strength to advantage. Imagine him turned upon his back like a
-huge beetle, kicking about frantically into the air to no purpose!”
-
-“Undoubtedly he gets his grip from his contact with the earth,” said I.
-“As a flying-machine he would hardly be a success.”
-
-“Doesn't it strike you that he is almost unnecessarily deliberate?”
- she queried, presently, with a slight show of impatience; evidently the
-novelty of the adventure was beginning to wear off.
-
-“More so than usual for the reason that we are ascending an incline;
-but you must remember that Antaeus was not built for speed,” returned I,
-defending my friend.
-
-“Evidently not. He belongs to the plodders--the slow and sure sort. He
-would be entered for a race in the tortoise class probably. Fancy an
-absconding cashier trying to escape from justice in a steam-roller! It
-would be funny, wouldn't it?”
-
-I agreed with her that it would be very funny. “Or imagine an eloping
-couple fleeing before an irate father on such a conveyance!” I
-suggested, with a consciousness of blushing in the dark for the audacity
-of the conceit.
-
-“Now, that is good!” she exclaimed, seizing on my idea with an eagerness
-that showed how far her thoughts were from taking the direction in
-which mine had dared to stray. “What a situation for a modern realistic,
-sensational drama!”
-
-“It might be worked up into something rather impressive, I should think.
-In these days of bringing steamboats, pile-drivers, fire-engines,
-real water, and railway trains in upon the stage I don't know why a
-steam-roller might not be given a chance.”
-
-“Why not?” she cried, waxing enthusiastic. “Picture the scene. Enter
-lovers on 'steam-roller, followed by incensed father in--in----”
-
-“In an electric-car,” I supplied experimentally.
-
-“Pshaw! don't be foolish!” she exclaimed thanklessly. “Followed
-by father in a light gig, drawn by a spirited horse. Overtakes
-lovers--demands his daughter--young man respectfully declines to give
-her up. Old gentleman prepares to come and take her. Is about to descend
-from gig when steamroller whistles, spirited horse begins to prance, he
-is obliged to keep tight hold of reins----”
-
-“Very good!” I put in approvingly. “Stern parent threatens direst
-vengeance, horse cavorts alarmingly, parent rages unavailingly,
-resolute lover pushes throttle wide open with one hand and retains firm
-grip upon the helm with the other.”
-
-“While the devoted loveress, with her own dainty hands, shovels in coal
-and encourages him to stand firm----”
-
-“By the way, that reminds me of something,” I interrupted and, getting
-off my elevated seat, I bent down and opened the furnace-door; “I rather
-think I should have given Antaeus his supper before now.”
-
-In truth, I had neglected the fire altogether too long. I hastily threw
-in more coal, but it was already too late to avert the consequences of
-my forgetfulness. The pressure of steam was diminishing and continued
-to diminish in spite of all my efforts to prevent it. Back fell the
-indicator upon the dial, and more and more slowly worked the machinery
-as the power behind it became less and less.
-
-“We shall not reach the top of the hill at the present rate,” remarked
-my companion. “The vital spark appears to be in danger of extinction, so
-to speak.”
-
-“In very great danger,” I sorrowfully assented as, with one last feeble
-effort, Antaeus wearily gave up the struggle.
-
-“Nor is that the worst of it,” I added, filled with a sudden
-apprehension.
-
-“What do you mean?” she asked, disquieted by my manner, though not yet
-divining the inevitable outcome of the existing state of affairs.
-
-“You had better descend to _terra firma_ unless you want to go back down
-hill faster than you came up,” I replied significantly.
-
-“Oh!” she exclaimed, comprehending the danger.
-
-“Yes; the attraction of gravitation is going to take us back a deal
-faster than Antaeus ever traveled before. Shall I help you out?”
-
-“Can't you put on the brakes?”
-
-“There are none; the builders of this machine did not foresee such a
-contingency as this. It was not to be supposed that Antaeus ever would
-fall into the unskillful hands of a bungling, blundering amateur,” said
-I, calling up hard names for myself from out of the depths of my
-humiliation.
-
-“Don't reproach yourself,” she begged; “it is I who am to be blamed.”
-
-“Shall I not help you out before it is too late?” I interposed, as
-Antaeus began to gather way.
-
-“What are you going to do,” she demanded.
-
-“Oh, I shall stick to the ship,” I answered grimly.
-
-“But you will get hurt if you do,” she objected.
-
-“Antaeus will get hurt if I don't. Come!”
-
-“No; I shall stay on board, too,” she declared heroically. “Now don't
-try and persuade me to desert, for I shall not do it. Can't I be of some
-use?”
-
-Seeing that she was firm in her resolve to stand by me, I gratefully
-accepted her offer of assistance, which indeed, was of considerable
-value. It was important that I should keep a firm hold upon the steering
-wheel, to prevent the craft from yawing, and, unless I were to be
-continually screwing my head about in a very painful position, I could
-not very well see the road over which we were traveling. From a position
-between the coal-boxes behind me--now the front of the conveyance--she
-could keep a look-out and pass the word to me when it became necessary
-to correct the deviations in our course. Without her help, it is more
-than probable that I should have run Antaeus ignominiottsly, perhaps
-disastrously, into a ditch before reaching the foot of the incline. Even
-as it was, I had my hands full.
-
-During the ride, which certainly was one of the most disquieting,
-mentally and physically, that I ever have taken, we said very little to
-each other. I gripped the wheel, and she grasped the iron sides of the
-coal-bunkers, between which she stood, opening her lips only to call,
-“right! left!” or “steady!” as I had hastily instructed her to do for my
-guidance in steering. So we rumbled and rattled and jolted on down the
-hill, at continually increasing speed, until at length we reached the
-base, and I drew a deep breath of relief at knowing that the worst was
-over.
-
-Arrived upon a level, our momentum gradually expended itself. From an
-estimated ten-mile rate--which had seemed terrific--we slowed to a five,
-to a three, to a one, to a snail's pace, and then something occurred
-which, although not threatening any danger to us personally, filled our
-minds with the liveliest anxiety for the safety of others. Antaeus came
-to a stand-still just across the railway track.
-
-“Well?” said my passenger, inquiringly.
-
-“Well,” I returned, blankly, as I pulled my watch from my pocket, “this
-is--interesting, to say the least.”
-
-“Are there--how about trains?” she queried anxiously.
-
-During the jolting of our forced--and forcible--descent our lantern
-had gone out; but there was an electric lamp near, and by its light I
-managed to read the hour upon my watch-dial.
-
-“There is a train leaving the city at ten, due here at ten-seventeen; it
-now lacks five minutes of that. I must go to the station and report that
-the way is blocked. I am sorry to leave you--or would you prefer going
-while I wait here?”
-
-“I think it will be better for you to go.”
-
-“Very well, then; I'll not be long.”
-
-[Illustration: 0220]
-
-This promise of mine was ill-advised. I hurried up the track to the
-station, only to find it locked and deserted. It was not the principal
-station of the town, being one of the half-dozen smaller ones strung
-at short intervals along the line. In all probability it would not be
-opened until a few minutes before train-time. As I knew the outcoming
-train would stop at that station, and thus give me a chance to warn the
-engineer of the obstruction ahead, I did not feel particularly alarmed
-at not finding the agent at once. Still I was conscious of some nervous
-uneasiness while awaiting his arrival.
-
-At last he came leisurely across the street, jingling his keys as he
-walked. As soon as he stepped foot upon the platform I went to 'him
-and began to tell my story. I had not proceeded far with it ere he
-interrupted me with a startled ejaculation.
-
-“Great Scott! The White Mountain express!”
-
-“What? What do you mean?” I gasped,
-
-“New train--put on yesterday--passes here on the way in at ten-ten,
-and it's more than that now!” he exclaimed in staccato, as he hastily
-unlocked the station door, and, putting in his hand, seized a red
-lantern that had been sitting ready lighted on the floor within.
-
-He did not waste any more time with me, but rushed along to the end of
-the platform, and then began to run with all his might down the track.
-I succeeded in following him at not too great a distance, although I was
-turning sick and giddy with all sorts of horrible apprehensions. Visions
-of a frightful wreck photographed themselves on my brain, the shrieks of
-the dying sounded prophetically in my ears, and in the midst of it all
-I was selfishly deploring the fact that I should be called on to pay the
-damages--at least to Antaeus--and wondering if I could contrive to get a
-hardware discount off the market price of steam-rollers.
-
-The crossing was still hidden from us around a curve when a shrill
-whistling broke upon my startled ears.
-
-“T-o-o-t!--t-o-o-t! Toot! toot!”
-
-The agent uttered an explosive invocation to the Deity, and added in
-tones of despair:
-
-“We're too late; she's onto us!”
-
-Still we staggered mechanically forward, until suddenly, with a cry of
-warning, the agent sprang aside, and the express went thundering by.
-
-“See here, young man,” my companion exclaimed angrily, “if this is a
-put-up job----”
-
-“But it is not!” I interposed with indignant protest. “I don't
-understand it any better than you do. Certainly I left Ant--the roller
-sprawled across both tracks.”
-
-“Well, I guess it ain't there now,” dryly remarked the agent, watching
-the rear lights of the fast-receding train, until they were swallowed up
-in the glare of the “local's” head-light. “I must run back,” he added,
-recalled to a sense of his duties. “You take this lantern and go and
-see if the outward track is clear. Stand between the rails and swing
-the lantern if it ain't. I'll tell the engineer to go slow and be on the
-lookout.”
-
-In another minute I was at the crossing. I looked up and down the street
-for Antaeus, but neither he nor the young lady were to be seen. If
-that Hercules of a locomotive actually had lifted him into the air and
-carried him off his absence could not have been more conspicuous. But
-naturally such a feat>could not have been accomplished, nor had it been
-attempted.
-
-The real explanation of the mysterious disappearance was this. During
-my absence the fire under the boiler had been getting up, until finally
-enough steam had made to start the machinery and so the roller had been
-enabled to roll itself away out of danger.
-
-I was about to start toward town, under the supposition that Antaeus had
-taken that direction, when I chanced to recollect that with the levers
-as I had left them he naturally must go just the opposite way--that is,
-retrace the course over which he had lately come. Accordingly I set out
-on the run toward the hill. Near the foot of it I found him, diagonaled
-off the road-side with his nose against a tree, loudly hissing in
-impotent rage at the unwelcome bar to his progress.
-
-I jumped into the engineer's place, reversed the machinery, and without
-very much trouble succeeded in getting him back into the road and
-started on the homeward way. I was putting to myself an uneasy question
-as to the whereabouts of my passenger, when, to my relief, I heard her
-voice close at hand.
-
-“Is it all right?” she inquired anxiously; “I feared it was going to
-blow up or something, it made such a horribly distressing noise.”
-
-“That very noise was a guarantee that he was _not_ going to blow up,”
- I replied, bringing Antaeus to a stop. “He was merely getting rid of
-superfluous steam through the safety-.valve. I am very glad to find you
-again. Will you ride? I think we shall get on smoothly this time.”
-
-Rather hesitatingly she allowed me to help her in. Then, after taking
-the precaution to add some fuel to the fire, and to inspect the steam
-and water indicators by the light of my borrowed red lantern, I opened
-the throttle and started on again.
-
-“Did the train frighten you?” I bethought myself to ask, presently.
-
-“Oh, don't speak of it,” she returned with a shudder; “I heard it coming
-from two or three miles away, and when it got nearer and nearer and you
-did not return I was almost frantic. But I couldn't do anything. I
-don't think it was more than a quarter of a mile distant, with the light
-gleaming along the rails and making it seem even nearer, when the roller
-began to move--but, oh, how slowly! I thought I should--well, if my hair
-hasn't turned gray from that scare it never will do so until the natural
-time for it comes, I am sure.”
-
-“Well, the old fellow got off in time, evidently.”
-
-“Yes; but with hardly a second to spare. He hadn't cleared the rails
-of the other track when the train passed. It was a frightfully narrow
-margin.”
-
-“You were not on board all this while, I hope.”
-
-“Oh, no; that would have been too foolhardy. But when I saw it was
-making off I didn't want it--I mean _him_--to go careering and cavorting
-about the country alone, so I climbed up and tried to take command. You
-showed me how to use the reversing-lever, and it all seemed easy when
-you were here, but when I was alone I didn't dare touch it for fear
-something disastrous would happen. All I ventured to do was to take the
-wheel and keep, him in the road--or rather try to do so, for I didn't
-succeed very well. My strength was not equal to it. He swerved a little
-and then got to going more and more on the bias, until at last, despite
-all I could do to the contrary, he ran off against a tree and was
-obliged to stop. Soon afterward that hissing noise began, and, fearing
-an explosion, I ran and got behind the wall on the other side of the
-street, and then--then you came. I don't think I ever was more rejoiced
-to see anybody in all my life.”
-
-I resisted a temptation to make a speech, which, however much in earnest
-I was, might have sounded silly, and contented myself with remarking
-that I was glad to have arrived in such good time, and I turned my
-attention to the taking of her--and Antaeus--safe home.
-
-I could not get to sleep after going to bed that night. The evening's
-experience of itself was hardly a soporific, but there was yet another
-matter to occupy my thoughts and prevent my sleeping. Should I venture
-at the next favorable opportunity to put a certain question to a certain
-person? If I did so what answer should I receive? I hoped and I feared
-and I doubted concerning the sentiments of the said certain person
-toward my unworthy self. I revolved the thing in my mind until
-there seemed to be little else there but revolution. Progress in any
-direction, certainly there was none. My body was hardly less restless
-than my mind.
-
-At three o'clock it flashed across me like a revelation, that I was
-hungry. I had eaten a light supper hours ago, and now my stomach was
-eloquent with emptiness; while the blood which should be doing good
-service there was pulsing madly about in my brain to no purpose. I went
-down stairs and inspected the contents of the ice-chest. Roast pork and
-brown bread make rather a hearty late supper, but breakfast time was so
-near I thought I would risk them--and a good deal of them.
-
-Returning to my room, I set a lamp upon a stand at the head of the
-bed and, taking the first book that came to hand--it chanced to be an
-Italian grammar--I began to read. I had gone as far in the introduction
-as “CC like t-ch in hatchet,” when I grew drowsy. I laid down the book,
-my eyelids drooped, and there is good circumstantial evidence that a
-moment later I fell asleep, lying on my back with the upper half of my
-body bent into the form of a bow.
-
-My slumbers were visited by a dream--a nightmare, composed, I estimate,
-of cold roast pork and brown bread, uncomfortable bodily position, the
-memory of certain occurrences in my past history, and an event to be
-described later. In this dream Antaeus figured largely. He seemed to
-come rolling across the bed, and me, until he had stopped upon my chest
-and stomach.
-
-[Illustration: 0228]
-
-“What are you doing?” I asked in alarm. “Do you know you are crushing
-me? Get away!”
-
-“I dare say I am. I _weigh_ fifteen tons,” Antaeus replied, heavily
-jocose. “I say,” he continued with a burst of anger, “you are an
-honorable, high-minded sort of person, you are. What do you mean by
-treating me so? Have you forgotten our compact? I have given you every
-chance man could ask for with _her_; what have you done for me in
-return? Nothing. Even worse than nothing. To faithlessness you have
-added treachery. Not content with deceiving me, you have sought to
-destroy me. I suppose you hoped to see my _débris_ strewn along the iron
-way.”
-
-I was conscience-stricken by his accusations; but I could refute a part
-of them. “Oh, no! oh, no!” I protested, “it was an accident, I assure
-you. So far from desiring such a thing, I declare that I cannot even
-imagine your being reduced to _débris_. I----”
-
-“Bah!” roared Antaeus, and in his rage he began to belch forth
-smoke--smoke so thick and black that I thought I should be stifled by
-it. In another moment I awoke gasping.
-
-One feature of my dream was a reality--the smoke. The room was filled
-with it, and there were flames beside. As nearly as I can guess, the
-situation on which I opened my eyes had been thus brought about. While
-I slept the wind had risen and, pushing inward the shade at the open
-window, had pressed it against the small, unstable stand until the
-latter had been tipped over, bringing the lighted lamp to the floor.
-The muslin curtains had caught fire; from them the straw matting,
-kerosene-soaked, had flamed up, so that now a pretty lively blaze was
-in progress.
-
-I sprang off the bed, made a snatch at some of my clothes, and got out
-of the room as soon as possible. After I had helped save everything
-portable, that could be saved without risk to life, I went and stood
-before the house in the cool air of the early dawn and watched the
-struggle between flames and flood. In the midst of my perturbation I
-noticed something that struck me as being worthy of remark. I had left
-Antaeus at the edge of the roadway before our gate; now the fire-engine,
-Electra, had been drawn up beside him. He was maintaining strict
-silence, but I hoped he was being well entertained, for Electra kept
-up an incessant buzzing--woman like, quite willing to do all of the
-talking. At any rate my share of our compact was now fulfilled; Antaeus
-and I were quits.
-
-In the later morning I saw the young lady. My misfortunes called forth
-from her expressions of sincerest pity; indeed, she bitterly reproached
-herself for having been the direct cause of them. When I described my
-narrow escape from death by suffocation, she grew so pale that I thought
-she must feel considerable interest in me, although I immediately
-reflected that it could not be very pleasant to have one's next-door
-neighbor roasted alive.
-
-By-and-by I told her of my two dreams, and of the way in which I finally
-kept faith with Antaeus.
-
-“It is a shame that you had to burn up your house to do it,” she
-commented, “when a brush-heap might have answered the purpose quite as
-well.”
-
-I thought--or I hoped--that the time had come for making a decisive move
-with some chance of its being effective. I furtively possessed myself of
-her hand.
-
-“I should not regret the house so much,” said I, “if I might hope
-you would deign to extend to me the favor with which Electra has made
-Antaeus happy.”
-
-This was bunglingly put, but she understood me well enough, although she
-murmured in reply:
-
-“You have it already; we are--acquainted. Surely you don't
-want--anything--more.”
-
-But she did not withdraw her hand.
-
-I have just heard that the town fathers contemplate purchasing Antaeus
-and giving him a permanent residence “within our borders.” If
-this report be true, I shall use all my influence--from motives of
-gratitude--to have him lodged beside the engine-house, so that he may be
-near his bewitching Electra.
-
-[Illustration: 0238]
-
-
-
-
-WHICH MISS CHARTERIS? By C. G. Rogers
-
-
-[Illustration: 0239]
-
-[Illustration: 9239]
-
-AVING completed his breakfast, Mr. Percy Darley seated himself in a n
-easy-chair, facing the cheerful grate-fire of ruddy anthracite, placed
-his toes upon the fender, and relapsed into a thoughtful contemplation
-of Leonard's letter.
-
-“You had best come, my dear boy,” said the letter. “It is a sleepy
-little town--one of those idyllic Acadian places of which you used to
-rave when you were tired of the city and fretful at her ways. We can
-smoke our pipes and chat over the old days, before a fire in my big,
-old-fashioned grate. There is a noble stretch of clear ice here now. Our
-little river is frozen over, solid and safe, and the darkest prospects
-do not foreshadow another fall of snow for a fortnight. The sleighing is
-superb; and, as Madeline Bridges says, 'the nights are splendid.' Pack
-up your traps and come.”
-
-The invitation was an alluring one, thought Darley. His head ached, and
-his heart was sick of the everlasting round of parties and calls and
-suppers. What a vision of beatific rest that idea of a chat over old
-times! Ah, dear old times of childhood and youth, when our tears are as
-ephemeral as our spendthrift dimes!
-
-There seemed to be only one rational preclusion--to wit, Miss Charteris.
-Not that he thought Miss Charteris would personally object to his
-absence, but, rather, that _he_ had an objection to leaving Miss
-Charteris. Miss Charteris was an heiress, and a handsome woman; to
-be brief, Miss Charteris being rich, and our friend Darley having the
-millstone of debt about his neck, he had determined, if possible, to wed
-her. If he went away, however, at this period of his acquaintance,
-when the heiress and he were becoming fast friends, some one else would
-doubtless step into the easy shoes of attention.
-
-So Darley went down into the city and telegraphed his friend Leonard
-that he would be in Dutton on the evening train. He thought he should
-like to see Miss Charteris, however, before going. He walked back slowly
-along a particularly favorite drive of hers, and presently met this
-young lady with her stylish little turn-out, looking very radiant and
-happy on this bright winter morning.
-
-There was some one with her--a fact Darley noticed with no great feeling
-of pleasure. It was not a strange thing; but, following the course of
-things as they had been for the past few weeks, it should have been
-Darley himself. This morning it was a sallow, dark young man whom Darley
-did not remember having seen before.
-
-Darley explained that he was about to leave town for a few weeks, as
-soon as Miss Charteris had drawn up alongside the pavement to wish
-him goodmorning. Then she introduced him to her companion. “A very old
-friend--Mr. Severance--just arrived from Australia.”
-
-“Dear old Dutton!” said Miss Charteris, looking reminiscent. “You must
-not break any trusting hearts down there, Mr. Darley; for the Dutton
-maids are not only lovely, but proverbially trusting.”
-
-“You know Dutton, then?” Darley answered, surprised.
-
-“Oh, yes! I have a very dear aunt in Dutton--oh, but you will see! I
-spent some of my happiest days there. So did you, I think, Lawrence.”
-
-“Yes,” said Mr. Severance reflectively, “days almost as happy as the
-present day. Don't you think, Mr. Darley, that a man's best years
-cluster round the age of ten?”
-
-Darley could not help agreeing to this. All men, provided their youth
-has been happy, think so. Darley said good-by, and walked on.
-
-Who was this fellow Severance? _She_ called him Lawrence--_Lawrence_, by
-Jove! There was something in it--rather old schoolmates, too, they
-had been, and what might they not be now? It was more pique than
-disappointment which caused Darley to wish momentarily that he was not
-scheduled for Dutton. However, he must stand the hazard of the die.
-
-His things were soon packed; he also supplied himself with a box of the
-cigars Leonard and he used to love in “the days that are no more,” and a
-copy of “Outing.” And ten hours later the train, with a jovial roar, ran
-into the little town, where the lights gleamed cozily against the snowy
-background, and the sleigh-bells seemed to bid him a merry, musical
-welcome.
-
-A short, erect, trimly built man with a finely chiseled face and a brown
-skin that seemed to breathe of pine woods and great wide, sunlit rivers
-grasped Darley's hand as he stepped to the platform.
-
-“Well, old man!” exclaimed the brown man, cheerily. “Awfully glad you've
-come! Come this way! Here we are, Joseph! Step in!”
-
-“By Jove! it _is_ wintry here, isn't it?” said Darley, as he slid under
-the buffalo robes. “What a peerless night!”
-
-After supper the two men made themselves thoroughly comfortable in great
-leather chairs before Leonard's promised fire, and smoked and chatted.
-
-“You look just the same, old boy,” said Leonard, scanning Darley
-carefully. “But the hair is a little thin in front there, and I think
-I see the growing spot of baldness, as Ike Marvel has it. Did you ever
-read that great book of his, 'A Bachelor's Reveries?' No? Well,
-you should. I find it sweetest company. Yes, you are the same old
-sobersides--a great deal deeper than you look, as the little boy said
-when he fell into the well. And not married yet, eh?”
-
-“Who, the little boy?”
-
-“No; you, you rogue! I should have thought you would have gone off long
-ago.”
-
-“Why?”
-
-“A hard question to answer. Are we not always in a condition of mild
-wonder that our friends have not gone over to the married ranks, when
-we ourselves have not? However, from floating gossip--that tongue's
-flotsam--I have heard that you meditate going over.”
-
-“Eh?” said Darley, pricking up his ears.
-
-“Why,” answered Leonard, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, “Beau
-Brummel cannot pay court to a beauty without the world knowing it! I,
-even I, have heard of Miss Bella Charteris. She is not the sort of girl,
-if I may make so bold, that I would have imagined you pinning yourself
-to. I should have thought some quiet, sober, angelic little woman
-like----”
-
-“Like who?”
-
-“Well, I was going to say like her sister,” said Leonard softly, bending
-his head over his pipe as he slowly refilled it. “But you do not know
-her sister, I think.”
-
-“Why, I did not even know Miss Charteris had a sister!” exclaimed
-Dar-ley in amazement.
-
-“No? Why, Miss Florence Charteris lives here--in Dutton!”
-
-“Miss Charteris mentioned an aunt, and hinted at some one else whom she
-said I would see, now that I think of it.”
-
-“Irony, I suppose,” said Leonard quietly, smiling a queer little smile.
-“Yes, Miss Charteris the second lives in Dutton: a quaint, gray little
-life, good, patient, and God-like. She is the sweet angel of Dutton. But
-tell me, Percy, are you in love with your Miss Charteris?”
-
-“I am afraid she is not my Miss Charteris,” said Darley, smiling. “And
-to be candid with you, Jack, I am not in love with her--for which,
-perhaps, I should be thankful. However, if Miss Charteris _does_ accept
-me, which I think is highly improbable, I shall marry her for money.”
-
-Leonard shook his head. “I thought that was the way the wind lay,” he
-said sagaciously. “Don't do it,” he added tersely, after a pause. “Take
-an old fool's advice--don't do it. I think you would only live to regret
-having sold yourself into bondage. That is what it would amount to in
-your case. You are not built upon rough enough lines, I know, not to
-care at having your poverty sneered at and constantly thrown in your
-face. It is a puzzle to me how any man with any sense of independence
-and honor can sell himself, as some men do; and it is beyond my
-understanding how _you_, with your fine feelings and high ideal of
-manhood, ever thought of such a thing.”
-
-This was certainly rubbing it in, Dar-ley thought. But, then, Leonard
-was such an exceptionally odd fellow, with his one-man-in-a-million code
-of chivalry and his ethical eccentricities. Still, Darley shrunk at the
-castigation, because he knew that the feelings that prompted it were
-sincere.
-
-“But I am terribly in debt, Jack,” he said, almost deprecatingly. “What
-is there left for me to do?”
-
-“What is there left? The opportunity to fight it out!” retorted Leonard.
-“Retrench. In a year, or two at most, unless you are _hopelessly_
-insolvent, if you live without the profitless pleasures that have
-brought you to this pass, you can come out triumphantly independent.”
-
-Darley shook his head. “I am afraid I could not stand the strain, Jack,”
- he answered, almost sadly. “A fellow of your caliber might. How is it,
-by the way, that you yourself are still in single harness?”
-
-Leonard was silent, gazing in the coals with almost a melancholy air.
-
-“Perhaps I should not say so,” he said at last, “yet you have been so
-frank with me; but I do not like the subject when applied to myself.
-However, there is but one answer, which is embodied in that one
-word that hangs like a pall before the eyes of the young literary
-aspirant--_refused_. I shall always be single, Darley. Always the same
-old solitary sixpence, with my rods and guns and dogs and books. Not bad
-companions, all of them, when used well--faithful, too. Eh, Rosy?”
-
-The beautiful hound addressed raised her head and looked pathetically at
-her master, rubbing her nose in a sympathetic way against his leg.
-
-Darley felt deeply interested. “What was the trouble, old fellow?” he
-ventured.
-
-“The whole story is contained in that one word--refused. I never cared
-for but one woman; and _she_ did not care for me--at least, not enough
-to marry. Which was, after all, the most natural thing in the world, I
-suppose. I could not blame her, could I, since I would only marry for
-love myself? It is not much of a story, is it?”
-
-“On the contrary, I think there is a great deal in it!” answered Darley,
-warmly. “I think I see that you loved this woman as only men with hearts
-like yours can love--once and for all.”
-
-“Loved her? My love has no past participle, Darley! I shall always love
-her! I shall always think her the sweetest woman in the world, and the
-best! There is no other like her--God bless her! But you are sleepy, old
-fellow; and even Rosy is yawning and thinks it is time all decent people
-went to bed. Let us have one of the old-time horns, one of those old
-camp-fire nips--and then to bed. To-morrow you shall see our little
-town. By the way, did you bring your skates?”
-
-“Skates! I haven't seen one for five years.”
-
-“Never mind. I have a dozen pairs, and I dare say we can fit you. Do
-you curl? No? Well, you shall learn. We have the finest rink within a
-hundred miles. Here's your room, old fellow! Good-night, and rosy dreams
-and slumbers bright, as Sir Walter says.”
-
-The days passed happily for Darley. The ice was perfect; and though he
-had not skated for years, his old power over the art came swiftly back.
-The river was one glaring, narrow, indefinite sheet of incomparable ice.
-Then there was the curling-rink, of which Leonard was an ardent devotee.
-It is a quiet, satisfying sport, this “roaring” game, and has peculiar
-charms for the man who has turned forty. The snow-bird shooting was
-good, too, out in the broad white fields beyond the town. And one
-glittering night the pair drove out into the country, and went on a hunt
-after some depredatory foxes with some farmers. They did not get the
-foxes; but they had a jolly supper at the farm-house, and an eight-hand
-reel in the kitchen, which Darley thoroughly enjoyed--more, he affirmed
-to his black-eyed partner, than any ball in the city he had ever
-attended.
-
-One morning, Leonard having some business to detain him, Darley went off
-alone for the customary spin down the river. Skating out of the town
-and away past the white fields and the farmhouses, he presently espied a
-small feminine figure ahead of him, gliding quietly along. Suddenly
-the figure tripped and fell. One skate had come off and flew out to the
-center of the ice.
-
-Darley sped to the rescue. The little figure in gray made a futile
-attempt to rise.
-
-[Illustration: 0252]
-
-“Are you hurt?” exclaimed the rescuer as he wheeled to a short stop.
-
-The lady looked up, and Darley saw the likeness in an instant. It was
-the other Miss Charteris--not at all like his acquaintance of the city.
-A rather pale, patient little face, with quiet gray eyes set far apart;
-a plain face, Darley said to himself. But on second thought he decided
-that it was not.
-
-“I am afraid I have hurt my ankle,” said this little woman in answer to
-Darley's inquiry. “I tried to stand up, but I got a twinge that told me
-something was wrong.”
-
-“Let me help you. Which foot is it?”
-
-“This one,” indicating the foot minus the skate.
-
-Darley lifted her up. “Now you keep the injured member off the ice,” he
-said, “and I will skate you to shore.”
-
-“It was all my fault,” said the patient, as Darley knelt down and
-removed the remaining skate. “I would put on these old-fashioned things
-just because the blades are splendid.”
-
-Darley secured the refractory skate and removed his own. Then he asked
-how the ankle felt.
-
-Miss Charteris attempted to stand upon both feet, but sat down upon the
-bank instantly.
-
-“It _does_ hurt,” she said, as if unwilling to admit the painful fact.
-She looked at Darley almost appealingly, then about her. The nearest
-house was a quarter of a mile away. Finally she looked back at Darley,
-with an expression that seemed to say, What are we going to do now, I
-wonder?
-
-Darley made up his mind quickly. He always did when a woman was in the
-question. “You can't walk,” he said; “I shall have to carry you.”
-
-Miss Charteris' pale cheeks assumed a rapid flush. “I can walk,” she
-said, hastily.
-
-“Very well,” said Darley, gently. “Take my arm.”
-
-A few painful steps proved to Miss Charteris that she _could_ walk, at
-the expense of excruciating agony. So, being a sensible little soul, she
-stopped.
-
-“You see, it is impossible,” said her knight. “You will have to let me
-carry you, Miss Charteris. I beg your pardon for not introducing myself.
-I am Mr. Percy Darley, a guest at Mr. John Leonard's.”
-
-“I knew you were Mr. Darley, but I don't see how you knew that I was
-Miss Charteris,” said that young lady, looking surprised, and quite
-forgetting her ankle.
-
-“I have the pleasure of knowing your sister, and I recognized the
-likeness,” answered Darley, truthfully. “Now, will you allow me? Or I am
-afraid I shall have to take the law into my own hands.”
-
-“I am not the law,” retorted Miss Charteris, attempting to proceed.
-
-“The very reason that I should become the law,” answered Darley,
-laughing.
-
-“I think I can _hop_,” said the girl, desperately. She did so for a few
-yards, and then came to a last halt. Hopping through deep snow proved
-rather heavy exercise.
-
-“I am afraid you will have to carry me,” she said in a tone of
-surrender.
-
-Darley picked her up. She was no weight, this little gray thing, and
-Darley was an athletic young man. Despite the snow, it did not take him
-long to reach the farm-house.
-
-The farmer's wife was a kind soul, and knew Miss Charteris. She also
-knew a sprain, she said, when she saw one; and Miss Charteris' ankle was
-sprained. So, while the injured member was being attended to by the
-deft hand of the farmer's wife, Darley posted off to the town for Miss
-Charteris' aunt's sleigh, the farmer being absent with his own.
-
-Darley secured the sleigh, drove back to the farm-house, and his charge,
-her ankle warmly and carefully wrapped up, was placed in the cutter and
-driven home. The family doctor had already arrived, and Darley took his
-leave.
-
-“May I call and see how you are get-ing on?” he ventured as he said
-good-by.
-
-“I shall be happy if you will,” said Miss Charteris. But the gray eyes
-seemed to say to Darley, Could you think of not doing so?
-
-“I am afraid you are in love, or on the way,” said this young man to
-himself as he walked briskly to his friend's house. “In love, young
-fellow, and with a real woman, not a woman of the world, but a genuine
-sweet woman, one worth the loving.”
-
-He related the story as simply as he could to Leonard, and the latter
-listened quietly. But Darley did not observe the odd look in his
-friend's eyes during the narration, nor did he guess that Leonard was
-saying to himself, Ah! my young friend, and have you, too, fallen at the
-first shaft?
-
-“Shall we go round to the rink?” suggested Leonard the following
-evening, after dinner, as they sat over their pipes.
-
-“I think I will stroll round and see how Miss Charteris is,” said
-Darley, smoking furiously. “I will call in at the rink afterward, eh?”
-
-“Very well, old fellow,” was all Leonard said.
-
-Darley found Miss Charteris' ankle improved. The doctor had pronounced
-it a severe sprain, had prescribed some wonderful liniment, and had
-alleviated the pain.
-
-“But I shall not be able to be out again for three weeks,” said the
-invalid, plaintively, on the occasion of a second visit of anxious
-inquiry. “It is too bad; for I think open-air skating the most
-exhilarating of all sport! It always seems to lift me up.”
-
-“It didn't seem to lift you up yesterday,” suggested Darley.
-
-“No, indeed. I have thought since that I should be very grateful to you,
-because, if you had not happened along, I am sure I don't know what I
-should have done.”
-
-“Don't talk like that, please,” said Darley, gravely. It is wonderful
-the aversion a young man has to being thanked in a case of this sort--at
-least, his profession of dislike. “I cannot tell you how unfortunate
-I regard the doctor's mandate,” said Darley after one of those awkward
-pauses between two young people who fancy, on a short acquaintance,
-that they have a tender regard for each other. “On your own account, of
-course, because I can understand how you feel over losing such a chance
-as the present ice affords; but chiefly, I am selfish enough to say, on
-my own behalf, because by the time you are able to skate again, even if
-the ice is still good, my visit will have come to an end; and I had been
-hoping, presumptuously enough, I know, to see you often.”
-
-“Will it be really imperative for you to return so soon?” said Miss
-Charteris, working rapidly at the woolen hood on which she was engaged.
-
-“I am afraid so,” answered Darley, with something very like a sigh. “I
-could not infringe on too much of Leonard's time----”
-
-“Ah! it is not the city which calls, then?”
-
-“No, it is not the city,” answered Darley, laughing, and being angrily
-conscious that he was flushing. “But Jack is such a dear good fellow,
-that I know he would not dream of sending me away.”
-
-Miss Charteris' eyes were on her work, and she plied her fingers
-rapidly.
-
-“Do you know Leonard very well, Miss Charteris?” continued Darley, as
-the girl did not venture a remark.
-
-“Oh, yes!” The tone might have suggested that Miss Charteris was
-agitated; but Darley went on, radiant and sublimely ignorant.
-
-“He is a grand fellow--the one man in the world that I would fall down
-and worship! I think Shakespeare must have had him in his vaticinal eye
-when he put those perfect words, that immortal eulogy, in the mouth
-of Antony: 'His life was gentle; and the elements so mixed in him that
-Nature might stand up and say to all the world, '_this_ was a man!'”
-
-The maid came in and asked if she should light the lamps.
-
-“Not just yet. I prefer this twilight. Do you, Mr. Darley?”
-
-“Very much--for itself. It is very satisfying and soothing, and always
-seems to me like a benediction. But it is very bad for your eyes, and
-very soon I shall be only able to half see your face.”
-
-“Which will be very good for _your_ eyes. Well, I have done work
-for today.” Miss Charteris laid the hood away, which Darley had been
-regarding curiously, and folded her hands in her lap. The action and the
-moment made Darley think of the “Angelus;” the “Angelus” made him think
-that it was getting late, and that made him think that it was time to
-go. The lamps, he said, had come round, and----
-
-“No, sit down, unless you really want to go,” said Miss Charteris. She
-was remarkably frank, this young lady. “The lamps have not come round;
-and, on the contrary, I think that my disinclination for them should be
-taken as proof that I do not think it is time for you to go. Besides,
-the days are cruelly short now.”
-
-“I find them so,” answered Darley, softly. “Leonard is making everything
-so comfortable for me that I do not know what I shall feel like when the
-curtain has rung down. It will seem like awaking suddenly from dreamland
-to cold earth again. I am sure I shall feel like one of those mountains
-falling into the sea of dullness that Poe describes: 'Mountains toppling
-evermore into seas without a shore.'”
-
-“You seem a great admirer of Mr. Leonard,” ventured Miss Charteris.
-There was just the slightest suspicion of jealousy in her tone, which
-Darley did not notice. Was it because he had inadvertently attributed
-his loneliness at leaving to his friend's kindness, and not paid her
-that little tribute of homage which women love? But who knoweth the
-heart of woman? Darley longed to tell her why he should feel lonely
-when he came to say good-by; but he did not wish to garnish such
-a declaration with quotations from poets. Let a man speak from the
-inspiration of the moment when he tells his love, or hints at it.
-
-“Admirer!” he echoed, in reply to Miss Charteris' remark. “It is more
-than that. Just think! We were inseparable for years. I wish we had
-remained so. No one who knows Jack Leonard as I have known him could
-help thinking him a perfect man, noble and generous, as he is!”
-
-“We are one in that opinion,” answered Miss Charteris, quietly. “And,
-next to esteeming a noble man, I can esteem his friend who can speak so
-unselfishly and sincerely of him, as you have done.”
-
-Darley felt touched--not so much at the words, but at the way in which
-they were spoken, gently, deeply, as if breathing of sincereness. But he
-did not distinguish anything beyond that in the grave eulogy to Leonard
-and himself.
-
-At length the lights _had_ to be brought in, and Darley rose to go.
-
-“You said you felt it unfortunate that I should be unable to skate,
-because you had been hoping to see me often,” said Miss Charteris. She
-was conscious of a slight flush, but she went bravely on. In certain
-circumstances a woman _has_ to be what prudes call bold. “Did you mean
-it?”
-
-“How could you doubt that I meant it? I certainly did mean it.”
- Darley was a little confused by this frankness. All true women must be
-coquettes in some degree, was Darley's creed. But Miss Charteris was
-hardly a coquette even in a slight degree, he thought. It was not
-frivolousness that prompted her to speak in this way.
-
-“Because, if you meant it,” continued this charming young person, “I
-shall be glad if you will come and see me as often as you like, if you
-will not find it dull.”
-
-Miss Spooner, Miss Charteris' aunt, came in at this moment and spoiled
-the eloquent look of reproach that Darley gave her niece.
-
-“Did you ever see such a girl!” exclaimed Miss Spooner in her high but
-pleasant voice. Miss Spooner's speech was emphatic, and endowed with
-realism. Darley felt like saying that he never had, indeed. “_I_ never
-did! Going into mourning, I believe, because she can't go out and break
-another ankle! You wouldn't catch _me_ on that ice! I saw it to-day from
-the bridge--horrible, shiny, treacherous stuff! Not going already, Mr.
-Darley? Better stop to tea.”
-
-Darley said he could not stop to tea _that evening_; which meant that he
-could some other evening, of course, and would be unspeakably happy to
-do so. All of which Miss Spooner understood; and so she extended her
-hospitality to him for the next evening.
-
-*****
-
-“Do you know, Percy, I believe you are going to marry Miss Charteris,”
- said Leonard, quietly, one evening. “_Our_ Miss Charteris, I mean.”
-
-“What makes you say so?”
-
-“I believe you are in love with her; in fact, I know you are. And I hope
-you will. Nothing could make me happier.” Darley looked the satisfaction
-he could not speak at this little speech.
-
-“I am in love with her. But I am not good enough for her,” he said,
-humbly. “I have been a worthless beggar all these years----”
-
-“You can prove your worth,” said Leonard, warmly. “And you _must_, if
-you marry Florence Charteris. I know you are not worthless; but you must
-let the good come to the surface.”
-
-“I shall work,” answered Darley, earnestly. “I begin to feel now the
-approving glow that comes to a man when he anticipates marrying a woman
-he loves. But why should I anticipate? I have not the slightest reason
-to believe that Miss Charteris cares a jot for me!”
-
-“Is that true, Percy?” questioned Leonard, sharply.
-
-Darley did not know whether it was true or not. He did not like to be
-sanguine, he said. No; he had no reason to think Miss Charteris cared
-whether he went back to town to-morrow. Not an item of which Leonard
-believed.
-
-“I hope earnestly you will win her,” he said again. “But you will have
-to retrench. Florence Charteris is as poor as a church mouse.”
-
-“I am heartily glad of it,” said Darley, warmly. “I shall be the man I
-have never yet been if I win her.”
-
-“Well, you will win her,” said Leonard. “I feel it in my bones.”
-
-So the days went round; and each one found Darley at Miss Spooner's.
-Even little Dutton had begun to watch with interest the outcome of this
-quiet wooing of the little lady whom all the town loved. The evolutions
-of acquaintance had merged rapidly into the sweeter plane of an almost
-wordless courtship; but as yet Darley had not ventured to speak He felt
-fearful lest his dream should be dispelled; and yet, though he was not a
-vain man, he felt that this lovable little woman cared for him. He could
-not go back to town and leave his love unspoken, however; because if he
-had done so this little story would not have been written. And at length
-came the day when he felt that his visit had been prolonged beyond the
-limits that even close friendship allows.
-
-“I am going away to-morrow,” he said on this eventful afternoon. It was
-just such an afternoon as that first one which he had spent there. It
-was growing dusk; and through the window they could see the red lights
-of home, those terrestrial apostles of Hesperus, punctuating the white
-landscape.
-
-“I am going away to-morrow,” repeated Darley. Miss Charteris said
-nothing, but gazed out of the window.
-
-“Why don't you say something?” he burst out. “Have you nothing to say?”
-
-“What should I say? Do you want me to say good-by? Is it such a sweet
-word, then, that you are anxious that I should say it now?”
-
-Darley knelt beside the little dusky figure in the rocker. How sweet it
-is to have the woman you love speak to you like this, and to hear her
-voice tremble, and to feel that she cares for you!
-
-“No, I don't want you to say good-by,” he said, very gently. “I want you
-to tell me not to go. Can't you see that the thought of leaving you has
-been like the thought of eternal darkness to me? I love you, and I
-want you for my own, always, that I may never know the bitterness of
-good-by!” Miss Charteris turned her head, and Darley saw that the gray
-eyes he loved so well were wet. She put out one little white hand till
-it rested on his.
-
-“Stay!” she whispered.
-
-After a while, when the lamps--those horribly real and unromantic
-things--were brought in, they talked of other matters. But both seemed
-very happy, and ready to talk of anything. Even the mysterious hood,
-which was now completed, came in for a share of attention, and the
-inquisitive Darley learned that it was for a “poor old soul,” as Miss
-Charteris expressed it, who lived in a wretched little shanty with
-a worthless grandson, at the other end of the town. By-and-by Miss
-Charteris said:
-
-“I have some news for you. Bella was married yesterday. Can you guess to
-whom?”
-
-“No, I cannot,” answered Darley, almost breathlessly. Bella was the
-Miss Charteris of the city. He did not know whether to feel glad or
-indifferent, but he was free of the gentlest touch of spleen. A woman
-will be conscious of a twinge of pique when she hears that a man with
-whom she has had some little love affair has married some one else. But
-Darley was not conscious of any such sensation.
-
-“It was very quiet,” continued Miss Charteris. “At least, I gather so
-from the paper which tells me of it. Bella never writes me, and not
-even on this occasion has she done so. However, she is now Mrs. Lawrence
-Severance.”
-
-“Oh!” exclaimed Darley in a superior tone, which testified that he knew
-something about it. Then he mentioned having met Severance. He had not
-said anything of the occurrence before, not caring for Miss Charteris of
-the city as a subject of conversation with her sister, for reasons best
-known to himself.
-
-“There is quite a little story about it, you know,” continued Miss
-Florence. “Lawrence, you know, and Bella have been lovers ever since
-they were so high, and Bella was Aunt Mary Spooner's favorite. When Aunt
-Mary died she left a great deal of money for Bella when she should come
-of age, stipulating, however, that Bella should have only a certain
-allowance till she was beyond a marriageable age.”
-
-“And, pray, what age is that?” asked Darley, laughing.
-
-“I should not have cared to ask Aunt Mary that question. The reason was
-that Lawrence was the son of an old sweetheart of Aunt Mary's, who had
-jilted her without any mercy; and so the sins of the father were visited
-upon the head of the son. 'Marry Lawrence, my dear,' says Aunt Mary, 'if
-you like, but you don't have my money. Florence shall have it the day
-you marry Lawrence Severance.'”
-
-Darley started as if stung. “Eh?” he exclaimed, “I don't understand!”
-
-“Then listen. 'Oh, ho!' quoth Lawrence, when he grew up and understood
-the story. 'So that is the way of love, is it? Well, there are more
-fortunes than Aunt Mary's in the world.' And away went Lawrence, nothing
-daunted, to win--what I hear he has won--double the fortune that Bella,
-in marrying him, hands over to me.”
-
-“Then you mean to say that this--money comes to you; that you are a rich
-woman, in fact?” Darley's tone was almost bitten.
-
-“Yes!” answered Miss Florence, gleefully, and clapping her little hands.
-“Aren't you glad?”
-
-“Glad? I hate it!”
-
-“Hate it?”
-
-“Yes, hate it! I was glorying in the fact that if I won you I would
-marry a poor woman. Now--” Darley did not finish his sentence.
-
-“You must not talk like that,” said Miss Florence with some asperity.
-“It is very wrong, and it hurts me, although I know I should be pleased.
-But I know you love me for all that. Money is a very good thing--God's
-gift in the hands of those who use it well. There is a great deal of
-good that we can do with Aunt Mary's money. She was very good herself
-to the poor, despite her unnatural dislike for Lawrence Severance; and I
-should like her to know that her mantle had fallen on worthy shoulders.
-You and I shall use this money to a great purpose.”
-
-“But you don't know what a happy thing it has been to me, this thought
-of winning you and proving my love by earnest work!”
-
-“And need that resolve be dissipated?” said Miss Florence, gravely. “You
-shall do that. There is a great deal of work to be done.”
-
-*****
-
-Leonard met Darley on his return, and drew him into the light.
-
-“I have won her, Jack!” said the younger man, grasping his friend's
-hand. “The sweetest and the noblest woman God ever made!”
-
-“I see it in your face,” said Leonard, huskily. Even Darley could not
-fail to notice the change in his friend's voice. “What is the matter,
-old man?” he exclaimed. “You----”
-
-“Nothing, nothing, my boy,” Leonard answered quickly. “But promise me
-one thing: that you will make her a noble husband, always--always!”
-
-Then Darley understood.
-
-“Dear old Jack!” he said tenderly. “What a fool I have been! Can you
-forgive me?”
-
-“There is nothing to forgive, my boy--nothing. But you must always be
-good to her. But never get angry because another man besides yourself
-worships your wife.”
-
-[Illustration: 0265]
-
-[Illustration: 0266]
-
-
-
-
-THE BEAR 'S-HEAD BROOCH, By Ernest Ingersoll
-
-
-[Illustration: 0267]
-
-[Illustration: 0268]
-
-[Illustration: 9268]
-
-HE story I am about to narrate happened this way, Thomas Burke and I
-were old schoolmates. But his course and mine had been widely divergent
-for a score of years, so that by the time he had brought his family back
-to New York, and our acquaintance could be renewed, many untold things
-had happened to each.
-
-I knew Tom had won his fortune by mining in the Rocky Mountains. It was
-rumored that his accomplished wife also had wealth in her own right, but
-Tom never had much to say in regard to his financial matters, and I did
-not like to question him notwithstanding our intimacy. I had dined with
-him two Christmases in succession, and now for the third time had eaten
-my Christmas dinner at his table.
-
-On each of these occasions Mrs. Burke had worn at her throat a
-magificient brooch which I had never seen at any other time, though I
-had met her often when such an ornament would have been suitable enough.
-This brooch was a bear's face, holding in its teeth a tiny steel key.
-It was a marvel of delicacy in the goldsmith's art, and evidently very
-costly; for the eyes were each a ruby, and the head was encircled with
-large diamonds, half hidden by hairs of gold, as though they represented
-a collar round bruin's hirsute neck.
-
-“Tom,” I said, when Mrs. Burke had left us to ourselves after dinner, “I
-am very curious about that bear's head brooch your wife wears. Why do
-I never see it except at Christmas? I am sure it has a history, and if
-there is no secret about it I wish you would enlighten me.”
-
-“Well,” said my old friend, “that is rather a lengthy story. There is no
-secret about it--at least none to keep from an old chum like you. As for
-the brooch, that's only an ornament I had made some years ago; but the
-design and the little key--which is a real key--remind Marion and myself
-of what we call our Christmas story, because it culminated on that day.
-
-“When you and I left the old university in 1870, and you came here, and
-I went West----”
-
-But if I were to tell the story as he did, it would hardly be as plain
-to you as it was to me. I must write it out.
-
-When Tom Burke left the university after his graduation he took the few
-hundred dollars which were the measure of his capital and went to the
-Rocky Mountains to seek his fortune. In the autumn of 1871 he became
-the superintendent of the Crimson Canyon Mining Company in Southern
-Colorado, where he found as assayer, and scientific assistant generally,
-a queer, learned and proud old Scotchman named Corbitt. This man had
-been one of the “Forty-niners” and had made a fortune which he had
-greatly enjoyed while it lasted, and the loss of which, in some
-wrong-headed speculation, he never ceased to deplore.
-
-Now, a few weeks before Tom's arrival at the camp, Corbitt's home had
-been brightened by the coming of his daughter Marion, on what he told
-his envious acquaintances was a “veesit,” implying that she could not be
-expected to make her home there.
-
-And truly this remote mountain settlement, inclement in climate,
-uncouth, dusty, filled with rough men, and bountiful only in pure air
-and divine pictures of crag and glen, icy-blue peaks and chromatic
-patches of stained cliff above or flower meadow below--all this was
-anything but the sort of place for a girl like her to spend her maiden
-days in.
-
-Perhaps it was not quite a case of love at first sight between her and
-Tom, but certainly the winter had not passed before each had confessed
-that there was no one else in the world beside the other whose presence
-much mattered in the way of happiness.
-
-But that seemed to be the end of it, for Corbitt gave young Burke to
-understand most decisively that he could hope for nothing more--an
-engagement to marry was out of the question.
-
-“Love, let us wait,” was Marion's last word, when, on her first and last
-tryst, she had stolen away to meet him, and he counted her kisses as a
-miser counts his gold.
-
-“Let us wait. I care for nobody else, and nobody can marry me against
-my will. We are young yet. Who knows what may happen? You may get money
-enough to satisfy papa--I don't suppose he holds me at a very, very high
-price, do you? Or I may be freer after a while to do as I wish.”
-
-This was commonplace advice enough, but Tom saw both the good sense and
-the pure love in it, and accepted the decree, steeling his heart against
-the impulses of rage and revolt.
-
-And then, quite unexpectedly, Mr. Corbitt resigned his place and went
-to Denver, taking his family with him. The same week the mine changed
-owners, and Burke was superseded by a new superintendent; and so, almost
-at a stroke, the lad lost both his sweetheart and the weapon by which he
-was to fight for her in the business tournament of the world. However,
-the latter evil was presently remedied, and he worked on, saving his
-money and teasing his brain for suggestions how to make it increase
-faster.
-
-At that time the mighty range had never been very carefully prospected.
-Men had, indeed, ascended Crimson Creek to its sources in search of
-the deposits of quartz whence the auriferous gravels below had been
-enriched, but they had brought back a discouraging report. Tom was
-not satisfied to accept their conclusions. He was confident, from the
-geological and other indications, that treasures of ore lay undiscovered
-among those azure heights. At last, resolved to see for himself, he
-enlisted the help of a young miner and mountaineer named Cooper, and one
-day late in August they started.
-
-After passing the pillared gateways of the Canyon, and ascending for a
-few miles the great gorge down which the creek cascaded over boulders
-and ledges of granite and rounded fragments of trachyte and quartz, you
-come to a noble cataract leaping into the Canyon from the left through a
-narrow gash or depression in the wall. By climbing up the opposite slope
-a little way, you see that this stream comes tumbling white and furious
-down a long rugged stairway of rocky fragments before it reaches the
-brink, whence it shoots out in the air and then falls in a thousand
-wreaths of dangling vapor.
-
-“Cooper,” Tom called out to his companion, who was more comrade than
-servant, “I guess we'll camp here. I want to examine this side gorge a
-bit.”
-
-“It looks to me,” remarked Tom, “as if this had formerly been the main
-stream, and had carried pretty much all the drainage of the valley until
-a big landslide--and it didn't happen so very long ago either--dammed
-the exit of the valley and changed the shape of things generally, eh?”
-
-“That's about the size of it, I guess. But, I say, ain't that smoke down
-there by the lake?”
-
-[Illustration: 0276]
-
-“I reckon we've got time enough to go and see. It ain't far down there,
-and the moon'll show us the way back if we get late.”
-
-Noting their bearings, they began the descent toward the lake and
-presently came out upon its border, where the walking was easier.
-Advancing cautiously half a mile or thereabout, they again caught sight
-of the smoke through the bushes--a feeble column rising from some embers
-before a small shelter of boughs and bark that hardly deserved the
-name of hut. A skillet, a light pick and shovel, and one or two other
-household articles lay near by, but nothing alive appeared.
-
-“No Injun 'bout that,” said Cooper.
-
-“No, Cooper; more likely a prospector.”
-
-Hallooing as they neared the hut, a lean and miserable dog rushed out
-and greeted them with ferocious growls, whereupon they heard a weak
-voice speaking to him, and saw a frowsy gray head and a bony hand,
-clutching a revolver, stretched out of the opening that answered for a
-door.
-
-[Illustration: 0284]
-
-“Hello!” Tom cried. “Call off your dog; we're friends.”
-
-Then a tousled, ragged, gaunt-limbed figure, emaciated with hunger, wild
-eyed with fever, dragged itself from the sheltering brush, gave one long
-look at the stalwart strangers, and fell back on the stony ground in a
-dead faint, while the dog, rushing forward with the courage of a starved
-wolf, planted himself before the corpse-like form and defied them to
-touch it.
-
-They fought off the animal, brought water from the lake and revived the
-man. A dram from Tom's flask stimulated him, whereupon he sat up and
-began to chatter incoherently, thanks to God and wild exclamations about
-some hidden treasure mingling with such plaintive cries as “She'll be
-all right now!” and “Mebbe she'll forgive her old dad!” making up the
-whole of his ceaseless talk.
-
-“He's clean crazy!” was Cooper's opinion.
-
-“Yes,” Tom assented, “but it is fever and famine. Couldn't you shoot a
-rabbit or something? Then I could make him a stew. Try it.”
-
-But all that Cooper could quickly find to kill were three mountain jays,
-which were converted into a broth, thickened with the dust of flour that
-remained. A little tea was also found in the sick man's pack, and this
-was brewed for him. Then Cooper volunteered to go back to their own camp
-and bring over more food and Tom's little medicine case.
-
-The next day he fetched the rest of their luggage, and in the afternoon
-shot a deer. So they encamped here beside the lake and nursed the old
-fellow until his fever subsided and the delirium had ceased to a great
-extent. Then by easy stages, partly carrying him on a stretcher, partly
-assisting him to walk, they managed to take him back to Crimson Camp and
-gave him a bed in Tom's cabin.
-
-But the strain of this effort had been too much for the aged and feeble
-frame. No sooner was the excitement of the march at an end than a
-relapse occurred, and for a fortnight the old man hovered on the edge of
-death; skill and care seemed to conquer, however, and one morning peace
-came to the tortured brain and the old prospector began to get better.
-
-Now at last he was awake, with seeming intelligence in his eyes, asking
-where he was and who were the people around him. Tom explained and then
-questioned him in return.
-
-But the mystery was not to be so easily solved. The invalid could
-not tell his name, nor where he had come from. He said he had been
-prospecting all his life--where--how long--all particulars were a blank.
-
-“I can't remember anything but the cache--nothing else at all,” he
-declared, gazing piteously into one face after another.
-
-“Tell us about that, then.”
-
-He felt in his bosom and drew out the little pouch. It was opened for
-him and its contents--a fragment of quartz heavy with gold and a tiny
-steel key--taken out.
-
-“Ah! What do you call that?” he inquired eagerly, pointing to the yellow
-metal.
-
-“Gold.”
-
-“Yes? Well, there is lots of that in my cache.”
-
-“Where is your cache?” inquired Tom.
-
-The old fellow dropped his head and tried to think, but couldn't clutch
-any of the motes of memory dodging like phantasmagoria before his eyes.
-
-“I can't tell,” he confessed, with infinite sadness. “I reckon I'd know
-the place if I saw it. And I've forgotten everything before that, but it
-seems to me that I fell a great ways, and lay for years and years with
-an awful pain in my head. Then all at once my head got better and I
-opened my eyes--mebbe it was a dream--and there I and the dog were in
-a little camp 'way up a big gulch. I knew the place, but I felt kind o'
-weak and dizzy-like and 'lowed I'd make a cache o' all my stuff, and go
-down to Del Nort' and see a doctor. So I dug a hole beside a big rock
-that had a peculiar mark on it, and put into it most o' my grub and some
-papers, and a lot o' that yellow stuff--what d'ye call it?--and reckoned
-they'd be safe till I come back in three or four weeks. I can remember
-all about the cache and my camp there, and my leavin' it and climbin'
-down a devilish steep place, and there I stop and can't remember nothin'
-since.”
-
-This was absolutely all that was left of the man's memory, and, though
-he was now quite sane, he had to be taught the names and uses of many
-of the commonest objects. Moreover, he seemed to grow weaker instead
-of stronger, and after a few days the physician announced that his
-patient's end was near. When the old fellow was told this he called Tom
-to his bedside, and said to him:
-
-“Pardner, you've done the square thing by me, and I want you to have
-half the traps in that cache after I've passed in my checks, and give
-the other half to--to--oh, God! Now I can't remember!”
-
-Then his face brightened again.
-
-“Oh, the letters'll tell! Read the letters and give her half of it. I'll
-sign a paper if you'll write it.”
-
-So a will was made, and the dying man made a mark before witness, in
-lieu of the signature he had lost the power to make, and the next day he
-died.
-
-The miners generally believed the stranger's story of this cache to be
-a figment of his disordered imagination, and Tom himself might have
-yielded to this theory had not the physician assured him that there was
-a fair chance of its truth.
-
-So Tom preserved the will, the quartz and the key, hoping that chance
-might sometime disclose the treasure trove if there were any; and a
-few days later he and young Cooper started a second time on their
-prospecting tour. This time they took a burro with them, and so were
-able to carry a small tent and outfit for a fortnight's trip.
-
-By active marching they reached the lake that night, finding it slow
-work to get their unwilling donkey up the steep rocks at the fall, by a
-circuitous trail and aided by some actual lifting of the little beast.
-They researched the hut, but found nothing new. The dog, now fat
-and strong, and a devoted friend, accompanied them and betrayed most
-excitedly his recognition of the bivouac. Next morning they made their
-way up to the head of the lake, where the breadth of the gulch and the
-appearance of things confirmed Tom's previous surmise that this was
-originally the main channel of drainage.
-
-If this were true they ought to get evidence of drift gold; and several
-days were spent in panning the gravels (nowhere, however, of great
-extent), with most encouraging results. A few miles above the lake they
-found the gulch forked into two ravines divided by a rocky spur. They
-chose the right-hand one and lost three days in fruitless exploration of
-its bed and walls. Shep (the dog was a collie and they had rechristened
-him) did not display anything like the joy he had shown in the advance
-up the main stream, and when they finally returned to the forks
-they could not but notice his renewed spirits. The dog was again all
-eagerness, and intensely delighted when on the following morning they
-started up the left-hand gulch.
-
-“It looks as though his master had come down that way, doesn't it?”
- said Tom. “Maybe he could guide us right back to where he came from; but
-he'll have to wait a while, for I like the look of that crag up there,”
- directing his companion's attention to the crest of the wall on the
-left, “and I want to examine it. You'd better stay here and try to get a
-blacktail. Bacon three times a day is getting monotonous.”
-
-“Don't you think you'd better take the Winchester?” said Cooper. (They
-had brought but one rifle.) “You might hit up against a grizzly or a
-mountain lion. I heard one of 'em screeching last night.”
-
-“No; I can't lug a gun. I've got my six shooter, and I'll risk it. Come
-on, Shep! It's noon now, and we won't get back to supper if we don't
-hurry.”
-
-The dog raced gleefully ahead as the young man strode up the gulch,
-scanning its rugged slope in search of a convenient place to begin the
-ascent, and presently, as though cognizant of the plan, the dog turned
-aside and with loud barking and much tail wagging invited attention to a
-dry watercourse that offered a sort of path.
-
-“I guess you're right, Shep,” Tom assented, and set his face to the
-sturdy climb.
-
-Half way up a ledge, covered with cedars and Spanish bayonet, made the
-ascent really arduous for a little way, and here the dog, which as usual
-was some rods in advance, suddenly began barking furiously, and capering
-around a small object.
-
-“Chipmunk, I reckon,” said Tom to himself, as he scrambled on, short of
-breath; but when Shep came sliding down, holding in his mouth a battered
-old felt hat, curiosity changed to amazement. The dog growled at first,
-and refused to give up his prize, but after a little coaxing yielded it
-into Tom's hands.
-
-The old prospector had had no hat when found. Could this be it? It did
-not seem to have lain out of doors long, and the dog would hardly show
-so much interest unless his sharp nose had recognized it as something
-belonging to his former inaster. Closely scrutinizing, Tom found tucked
-into the lining a slip of sweat-stained paper with a name upon it--
-
-ARTHUR F. PIERSON,
-
-Tucsony Arizona.
-
-Stuffing the hat into his pocket Tom scrambled on, thinking out the
-meaning of the incident; and now he began to notice in this steeper
-place that some of the boulders had been misplaced, and here and there
-was a broken branch, as, if someone had descended very hastily or
-clumsily.
-
-“If that crazy old man came down here, and perhaps caught a second bad
-fall, I don't wonder he was used up by the time he reached the lake”
- was Tom's mental ejaculation, as he toiled up the acclivity and at last,
-panting and leg weary, gained a narrow grassy level at the foot of a
-crag “spiked with firs,” which had been conspicuous from the valley not
-only by its height and castellated battlements, but because a colossal X
-was formed on its face by two broad veins of quartz crossing each other.
-
-With his eyes fixed upon the rocky wall he walked along in the face of
-a stiff breeze, until he noticed a pinkish streak upon the dark cliff,
-betokening the outcrop of another vein, and turned aside to climb a pile
-of fallen fragments at the foot of the crag to reach it. These fragments
-were overgrown with low, dense shrubbery. He ducked his head and was
-pushing into them, when suddenly he saw a huge brown body rise almost
-into his face, heard the tremendous growl of a grizzly, and amid a crash
-of bushes and dislodged stones felt himself hurled backward.
-
-Clutching instinctively at one of the shrubs as he fell, he whirled
-under its hiding foliage, and the vicious stroke of the bear's paw
-came down upon his leg instead of his head, while the released branches
-snapped upward into the face of the brute, which, as much surprised
-as its victim, paused in its onslaught to collect its wits. An
-instant later Shep dashed up, and at the bear's hindquarters. Bruin
-spasmodically sank his claws deeper into Tom's thigh, but turned his
-head and shoulders with a terrific ursine oath at this new and most
-palpable enemy; and ten seconds afterward Tom's revolver, its muzzle
-pressed close underneath the bear's ear, had emptied half an ounce of
-lead into its brain. A blood-freezing death squeal tore the air, and the
-ponderous carcass sank down, stone dead, upon Tom's body and upon the
-dwarfed spruce which covered it. It pinned him to the ground with an
-almost insupportable weight. Perhaps if the animal alone had lain upon
-him he might have wriggled out; but the brute's carcass also held down
-the tough and firmly-rooted tree, and the rocks on each side formed a
-sort of trough. Turn and strain as he would Tom could not free
-himself from the burden which threatened to smother him. Moreover, the
-convulsive death throe had forcibly tightened the grip of the claws
-in the side of his knee, which felt as if in some horrible torturing
-machine of the Inquisition; and had he not been able at last to reach
-that paw with his left hand and pull it away from the wound he would
-have died under the agony.
-
-Then, as he felt the blood running hot and copious down his leg, a new
-fear chilled his heart. Might he not bleed to death? There seemed no end
-to the hemorrhage, and what hope had he of succor? He thought of firing
-signals of distress, but could not reach the pistol, which had been
-knocked out of his hand. He spoke to the dog, which was barking and
-worrying at the bear's hind leg, and Shep came and licked his face and
-sniffed at his blood-soaked trousers. Then, as if even he realized how
-hopeless was the situation, he sat on his haunches and howled until Tom,
-hearing him less and less distinctly, imagined himself a boulder slowly
-but musically crunching to powder under the resistless advance of a
-glacier, and lost consciousness as the cold-blue dream-ice closed over
-his dust.
-
-By and by he awoke. It was dark, and something cold and soft was blowing
-against his face. He moved and felt the shaggy fur and the horrible
-pain in his leg and in his right arm, which was confined in a twisted
-position. Then he remembered, but forgot again.
-
-A second time he awoke. It was still dark, but a strange pallor
-permeated the air, and all around him was a mist of white.
-
-It was snowing fast. He closed his left hand and grasped a whole fistful
-of flakes. The body of the bear was a mound of white--like a new-made
-grave over him, he dismally thought. The snow had drifted under and
-about his shoulders. Its chill struck the wound in his thigh, which
-throbbed as though hit with pointed hammers, keeping time to the
-pulsations of his heart; but, thank God! he no longer felt that horrible
-warm trickling down his leg. He had been preserved from bleeding to
-freeze to death. How long before that would happen; or, if it were not
-cold enough for that, how long before the snow would drift clear over
-him and cut off the little breath which that ponderous, inert, dead-cold
-beast on his chest prevented from entering his lungs? Where was the
-dog? He called feebly: “Shep! Shep! Hi-i-i, Sh-e-p!” But no moist nose
-or rough tongue responded. He tried to whistle, but his parched mouth
-refused. Heavens, how thirsty! He stretched out his hand and gathered
-the snow within his reach. Then he closed his eyes and dreamed that two
-giants were pulling him asunder, and that a third was pouring molten
-lead down his throat.
-
-But it was only Bill Cooper trying to make him drink whiskey.
-
-He understood it after a little and realized that he ought to swallow.
-Then life came back, and with the knowledge that he was no longer
-alone on the cold, remote, relentless mountain top, but that Cooper was
-lifting away the bear, and that Shep was wild with sympathy and gladness
-because he had been able to bring help, came courage and forbearance of
-his suffering. In the morning new strength came with the sunshine. The
-snow rapidly melted. Cooper got breakfast and Tom rebandaged his knee.
-
-“These gashes won't amount to much, unless the claws were poisoned.
-You'll have to make me a crutch, and give me a couple of days to get rid
-of the stiffness, but then I'll be all right.”
-
-“How did you and the bear get into this scrimmage, anyhow? You surely
-didn't go hunting him with that there six shooter?”
-
-“Not I. The wind was blowing hard toward me, so he didn't smell nor hear
-me, and I ran right on to him. Shep was not there to warn me, but if he
-hadn't come back just as he did, or if I hadn't been able to get at my
-revolver, Old Ephraim would ha' used me up in about a minute.”
-
-“I ain't a betting on one pistol shot against a grizzly, anyhow.”
-
-“Of course, the chances were about one in a thousand, but I wasn't going
-to die without a shot. I suppose the bullet struck the lower part of the
-brain.”
-
-“Yes,” said Bill, who had been probing its track. “Tore it all to
-pieces. But what was the bear after in that brush?”
-
-“Give it up--ants, likely. You know--Great Scott! What's that dog got
-now?” Shep was coming out of the bushes, dragging a package wrapped in
-buckskin which was almost too heavy for him to handle. Cooper went and
-took it from him and brought it to the fire. It was a sort of pouch
-firmly tied with a thong. Running a knife under this the bundle fell
-apart, and a double handful of flakes and nuggets of gold and quartz
-rolled out.
-
-“The cache!” Tom shouted, comprehending instantly the meaning of this.
-“The bear was tearing it to pieces!”
-
-It was true. His strong feet had displaced the loosely-heaped stones,
-and a half-devoured side of bacon lay close by where the animal had been
-disturbed.
-
-Evidently the marauder had just begun his work. There remained in the
-cache two more pouches of gold--perhaps a quart of the metal pieces in
-all, more or less pure, for all of it had been dug out of a vein with
-hammer and knife point, none of the fragments showing the water-worn
-roundness characteristic of placer gold. Then there were a small
-quantity of provisions, some ammunition and a small rosewood box with an
-ornamental brass lock having a remarkably small and irregular keyhole.
-
-From an inner pocket of his purse Tom drew the odd little key the dead
-prospector had given him. It fitted into the hole and easily turned the
-lock. The cover sprang open, revealing a package of letters. He lifted
-them out, but did not pause to read them.
-
-Then came an envelope containing a patent to ranch lands in Arizona,
-certificates of stock in Mexican and other mines that Burke had never
-heard of, and a commission as lieutenant of artillery in the Confederate
-army. All these documents were made out to “Arthur F. Pierson,”
- establishing the fact that the lost hat was really that worn by the old
-man, as his dog had recognized.
-
-At the bottom of the box, however, Tom found what interested him most--a
-formal “claim” and description of the lode whence the gold had been
-taken, and how to reach it from this cache. It was written in pencil, in
-a very shaky hand, on two or three soiled leaves torn from a memorandum
-book and eked out with one of the covers.
-
-Then Tom took up the letters. Most of them were recent and of business
-importance, but several were old and worn with much handling. One of
-these latter was from a lawyer in San Francisco, acknowledging funds
-“sent for the support of your infant daughter,” describing her health
-and growth, and the care taken of her “at the convent”--all in curt
-business phrase, but precious to the father's heart. Then there were
-two or three small letters, printed and scratched in a childish hand, to
-“dear, dear papa,” and signed “Your little Polly.” One of these spoke of
-Sister Agatha and Sister Theresa, showing that it was written while
-the child was still in the convent; but the others, a little later,
-prattled about a new home with “my new papa and mamma,” but gave no clew
-to name or place.
-
-“This baby girl--she must be a young woman now, if she lives,” Tom
-mused--“is evidently the person the poor old chap wanted me to divide
-with. It ought not to be difficult to trace her from San Francisco, I
-suppose the convent Sisters knew where she went to when they gave her
-up. But, hello! here's a picture.”
-
-It was an old-fashioned daguerrotype of a handsome woman of perhaps
-four-and-twenty, in bridal finery, whose face seemed to him to have
-something familiar in its expression. But no name or date was to be
-found, and with the natural conclusion that this was probably Pierson's
-wife he puzzled a moment more over the pretty face, and then put it
-away.
-
-After a few days, when Burke was able to travel, the prospector's
-memorandum and their mountain craft together led them almost directly
-to the coveted gold vein, which ran across a shoulder of the mountain at
-the head of the gulch, like an obscure trail, finally disappearing under
-a great talus at the foot of a line of snowcapped crags.
-
-Tracing it along, they presently came upon the old man's claim marks.
-The stakes were lettered pathetically with the name of the old man's
-choosing--“Polly's Hope.”
-
-Adjoining the “Hope” Tom staked out one claim for himself and another
-for his sweetheart, intending to do the proper assessment work on it
-himself if Corbitt couldn't or wouldn't; and Cooper used up most of
-what remained of the visible outcrop in a claim for himself.
-
-Returning to town their claims were registered in the Crimson Mineral
-District, and their report sent a flight of gold hunters in hot haste to
-the scene.
-
-Tom Burke, after selling everything he could send to market to turn
-into ready money, departed to Denver, carrying with him documents and
-specimens of the gold quartz to support his assertions.
-
-Keen men fêted and flattered him, buttonholing him at every corner with
-whispered advice, and many proffered schemes. But he was indifferent to
-it all, and anxious as yet only to hear what Marion should say.
-
-Not a word had he heard from her directly during all the weeks of
-her absence, but indirectly he knew she had been a star in the local
-society. He had even to hunt out where she lived, finding it in a
-cottage near where the stately court house now stands.
-
-He went there, after tea, with a fastbeating heart. Had she forgotten,
-or withdrawn or been turned away by hardhearted parents and friends? He
-suspected everything and everybody, yet could give no reasons. And how
-absurd these fears looked to him--how _foolish!_--when, sitting in the
-little parlor, hand in hand, they talked over the past, and she confided
-that the same doubts had worried her now and then--“most of all, Tom,
-dear, when I hear of this wonderful success of yours.”
-
-“Bless me! I had forgotten it. By your side all else----”
-
-Here the door opened--not too abruptly--and Mr. Corbitt came in, grimly
-hospitable and glad, no doubt for his own sake, to see this young fellow
-who was still true to his daughter; while Mrs. Corbitt was more openly
-cordial, as became her.
-
-“An' what's this we're hearin' aboot your new mines? They're sayin'
-down town that you've struck a regular bonanza, an'll soon be worth your
-meellions. But I told 'em 'Hoot! I'd heard the like o' that before!'”
-
-So Tom recounted briefly the story of the prospector's death and his
-will; still more briefly his adventure with the grizzly, and how it led
-to the curious disclosure of the cache. Then, with no little dramatic
-force, seeing how interested was his audience, he described the hunt for
-the vein and the finding it, produced his specimens and handed to Miss
-Marion a mass of almost solid gold embedded in its matrix.
-
-“I can't promise you,” he said, as she tried to thank him with her eyes
-and a timid touch of her fingers, “that the whole ledge will equal that,
-but it is a genuine sample from near the surface.”
-
-“Wonderful! Wonderful!” the old Scotchman ejaculated, with gleaming
-eyes, as Tom went on to show how regular and secure was the title to
-this possession. “But did ye no find out the name of the poor vagabone?”
-
-“Oh, yes. Didn't I mention it? His name was Arthur Pierson.”
-
-Corbitt and his wife both started from their seats.
-
-“Man, did I hear ye aright?--_Arthur F. Pierson?_”
-
-“That was the name exactly. I can show it to you on the letters.”
-
-“An' he charged ye to give the half of all ye found to his daughter
-Polly?”
-
-“Yes, and I mean to try to find her.”
-
-“_There she sits!_” cried Mother Corbitt excitedly, before her cautious
-husband, could say “Hush!”--pointing at Marion, who gazed from one
-to the other, too much amazed to feel grieved yet at this stunning
-announcement. “We took the lassie when she was a wee bairn, and she
-would never ha' known she wasn't ours really till maybe we were dead and
-gone. Her feyther was a cankert, fashious body, but her mother was
-guid and bonnie (I knew her well in the auld country) and she died when
-Mary--that's you, my dearie--was born.”
-
-“Is this her picture?” Tom asked, showing the daguerrotype.
-
-“Aye, that it is. Puir Jennie!”
-
-The rest is soon told. A company of capitalists was formed to work the
-four consolidated claims on the new vein, under the name of the Hope
-Mining Company.
-
-[Illustration: 0293]
-
-All the next season was spent by Tom Burke in developing the property
-and erecting machinery. Corbitt was there too, much thawed by the sun of
-prosperity, but his wife and daughter remained in Denver. In the autumn,
-however, the ladies went East, and as the holidays approached Tom and
-Corbitt followed them to New York, where, on Christmas eve, my hero and
-heroine were married quietly in a little church up town; and his gift
-to her was the brooch which had attracted my attention and whose
-significance was now plain.
-
-[Illustration: 0293]
-
-[Illustration: 0294]
-
-
-
-
-MISS GWYNNE'S BURGLAR, By Violet Etynge Mitchell
-
-|IN the heart of Wales, nestling between two dark frowning mountains,
-and lulled to drowsy indifference of the big outside world by the
-murmurs of the not far distant sea, stands the little village of
-Cod-y-glyn.
-
-Just outside the village, on the main road stands--or did stand ten
-years ago--an old stone house, in the middle of a large garden, which
-was surrounded on all sides by a high wall, also of stone. It was the
-pride of the owner, Miss Gwynne.
-
-One night, in the early spring of the year, there was to be a wedding at
-Cod-y-Glyn--a wedding in humble life, but anticipated with great glee by
-the invited guests, among whom were Miss Gwynne's servants, the coachman
-and his wife (who was also cook) and Ylva, their daughter, employed as a
-maid-of-all-work.
-
-Knowing the disappointment it would be to them if they were denied the
-pleasure of attending the wedding, she had declined the coachman's offer
-to remain with her, allowing his wife and daughter to go, and laughingly
-assured him that with her father's gun for company she feared nothing.
-
-Miss Gwynne retired at an early hour, having locked up the house.
-
-She lay for some time gazing through the window at the twinkling stars,
-lost in quiet retrospection.
-
-I will let Miss Gwynne tell the rest of the story in her own way,
-repeating as well as I can from memory the words as I heard them from
-her lips ten years ago.
-
-*****
-
-I cannot tell if I dozed or not, but I was conscious of the moon shining
-dimly through the clouds, and I wondered how long I had lain there.
-Reaching out for my watch, which lay on the table, I was horrified to
-feel my wrist grasped and held by a firm hand.
-
-To say I was frightened would be less correct than to say I was
-astounded, for I have always been a woman of steady nerve, and the
-present occasion called for its use.
-
-The moon had retired behind a heavy curtain of clouds, and the room was
-in complete darkness, but from the drapery at my bedside issued a voice,
-and at the same time the python-like grasp on my wrist relaxed.
-
-“I beg to apologize, madam,” said this voice; “I have chosen a bungling
-manner of awakening you--foreign to my custom. Pardon me, and do not be
-alarmed. I merely wish to relieve you of any superfluous silver, jewelry
-or bank notes you do not absolutely need. But as the vandalism of
-breaking locks is out of my line, I will request you to arise and show
-me where such things are kept.”
-
-By the time he had finished this speech I was myself again.
-
-“Very well,” I said, “I'll get up and show you; but, as it is
-embarrassing to dress in your presence, will you step out into the hall
-and close the door while I put on my clothing?”
-
-There was a soft rustling of the curtains at the bedside, and the sound
-of footsteps on the carpet, and immediately afterward the door closed.
-
-“Five minutes, madam, is all I can give you,” remarked the burglar, as
-he disappeared.
-
-It took me (after lighting the candle) two minutes to slip on a warm
-skirt, and a blue flannel wrapper over it; then, sticking my feet into
-a pair of down slippers, I had still time to snatch a roll of bills
-amounting to one hundred pounds, and pin them deftly to the lining of
-the canopy above my four-post bed.
-
-Then throwing open the door I stood on the sill facing my visitor, and
-threw the glare of the lighted candle full upon him, as he lolled in a
-careless, easy attitude against the bannisters.
-
-I had been prepared for a burglar--but I had looked for one attired
-according to the traditions of my ancestors. But here was a gentlemanly,
-mild-featured individual, such as I should have expected to find filling
-the position of a professor of Latin--perhaps of theology--in Oxford
-University.
-
-There was no appearance of a jimmy, or tools of any kind. Evidently here
-was a type of criminal with which history was unacquainted.
-
-“Madam!” he exclaimed, bowing with the grace of a French courtier, “you
-are punctuality itself. And how charming!--no hysterics--no distressing
-scenes. Allow me.” He took the candle from my hand, and holding it aloft
-preceded me down the great oaken stairs, talking fluently all the while,
-but pausing at every other step to glance over his shoulder at me with
-coquettish politeness.
-
-“I wish to assure you,” he remarked, “that I am no ordinary
-house-breaker. Burglary is with me a _profession_, though not the one
-(I confess) chosen for me by my parents. I saw, at an early age, that
-I must either descend to the level of the burglar, or raise him to the
-level of an artist. Behold, my dear lady, the result.”
-
-He stood at the foot of the stairs and looked up at me.
-
-“Shall we proceed to the diningroom?” he asked airily; “and, as I wish
-to give you no unnecessary trouble, let me say that I do not dabble in
-_plated_ spoons; nothing but solid silver.”
-
-I opened the old mahogany sideboard, in which Griffiths had, for years,
-placed the family heirlooms at night, and beheld my gentlemanly burglar
-stow them, one after another, in a capacious felt sack, which he carried
-in his hand.
-
-“Charming!” he cried. “I am a connoisseur, I assure you, and I know
-silver from plate. These articles are really worth the risk of the
-enterprise.”
-
-You ask me if I was not alarmed. No, I was _not_. Personal violence was
-not in his professional line, unless opposed. I summoned all my energies
-to outwit him. I thought much and said little, for I had no intention of
-allowing him to carry off my mother's silver.
-
-After having rifled all the rooms of the most valuable articles, he
-returned to the dining-room.
-
-On the table the remains of supper still stood, consisting of a fowl,
-hardly touched, some delicately cut bread and butter, cake, and a glass
-jar containing some fancy crackers.
-
-“I will make myself entirely at home,” he remarked, sitting down to the
-table, and helping himself to a wing of the chicken.
-
-“Really,” he proceeded, “I have thoroughly enjoyed this evening. Not
-only have I met a most charming lady, but I have been able to prove to
-her that the terms gentleman and burglar may be synonomous.”
-
-He now began on the cake. I pushed the cracker jar toward him. “Try
-them,” I observed.
-
-Still smiling indulgently, and talking, he took out one of the crackers
-and began to nibble on it. It was _very dry_.
-
-I rose, and in an absent-minded manner placed on the table the remains
-of a bottle of rare old Burgundy, which had been opened the day before.
-
-“Now, really,” he prattled, “I'm a very harmless man five months out
-of six--I never steal unless other means fail, or a tailor's bill comes
-due. I'm a respectable citizen and--a church member in good standing
-when I'm not on one of my professional tours. I took up burglary more
-as a resource than from necessity. Candidly speaking, now, _am_ I a
-ruffian?”
-
-[Illustration: 0302]
-
-“No!” I replied, looking directly at him. “On the contrary, you are a
-very fine-looking man.”
-
-A glow of vanity spread over his face. I poured out a glass of the
-Burgundy and pushed it toward him.
-
-“England to Wales!” he cried with gallantry. “I don't generally drink,”
- he added, “but these crackers make me thirsty.”
-
-“If I could only find a wife suited to my tastes,” he mused, “such a
-woman as _you_ are, by George! I'd give up aesthetic burglary and settle
-down to quiet domestic bliss.” He looked questioningly at me. “If”--he
-hesitated--“you could be sure I would abandon my profession--would
-you--do you think you could--condone my past and--marry me?”
-
-“That is a matter for consideration,” I replied.
-
-He helped himself to another cracker.
-
-“Your proposal is so startlingly unique,” I continued, “to marry one's
-burglar! Really it is quite a joke.”
-
-“Isn't it?” he chuckled, evidently enjoying the idea of the oddity. “We
-are kindred spirits!” he exclaimed, convivially, but was interrupted by
-a violent fit of coughing.
-
-Seizing the bottle of Burgundy, he drained the only drop or two left.
-
-“I think, maybe, there's another bottle down in the cellar,” I cried,
-artlessly. “I'll go down and see--I feel thirsty myself.”
-
-“We will descend together,” exclaimed my burglar, gallantly taking the
-candle from my hand and following me to the door leading to the cellar
-steps.
-
-We descended the steps chatting pleasantly--he discoursing on matrimony,
-I answering rather vaguely, but measuring the distance to the wine bins
-by my eye. They were at the far end of the cellar, and were five in
-number, each large enough to hold a quarter of a ton of coal. Before the
-furthest one I paused.
-
-[Illustration: 0300]
-
-“Here,” I said, “is the brand we are looking for.” I raised the heavy
-lid and looked in. “I will hold the candle,” I observed; “will you get
-the bottle? I can hardly reach it.”
-
-He handed me the candle and bent low over the bin. Ha! ha! Quicker than
-a flash of lightning I tipped up his heels (he was easily overbalanced),
-and into the bin he fell headlong. Down came the heavy lid. But there
-was no padlock on it. I must hurry! Blowing out the candle, I ran, for I
-knew the way, straight to the cellar steps and up them--like a cat. Then
-with a locked door between myself and my burglar, I could breathe.
-
-I heard the man kicking about down below, for of course he got out of
-the bin at once. But our cellar is a labyrinth. Seizing father's old gun
-from its resting-place in the hall, I sat down near the door at the head
-of the stairs, waiting for the worst.
-
-The door was fairly strong--that I knew; but he was a powerful man. So I
-dragged a heavy table from the sitting-room and placed it against it.
-
-Suddenly I became conscious that he had found his way to the stairs and
-was rapidly approaching the door, which was all that lay between me and
-his revengeful fury.
-
-Bracing myself against the opposite wall, I raised the old gun, and,
-deliberately aiming it, waited.
-
-He began by pounding with both fists on the door, but, not receiving any
-answer, he tried threats. An instinct seemed to tell him I would remain
-on guard.
-
-His language, I must confess, while threatening, was not abusive.
-It was, in fact, incredibly elegant for a burglar, and strictly
-grammatical.
-
-All at once there came a crash, followed by the creaking of heavy
-timber, and the door fell. Down he came on top of it, sprawling at my
-feet on the floor. I raised my gun and fired.
-
-“Hit him?” I interrupted.
-
-“No,” replied Miss Gwynne; “here in the wall of the dining-room the
-bullet lodged, and is still there.”
-
-The next thing I was conscious of was Mrs. Griffiths bending over me,
-and her husband's voice exclaiming:
-
-“He'd never have escaped if we had not left that door open when we came
-in. You see we got home just in time to hear you fire the gun, and as we
-ran in he ran out. Drat him!”
-
-I raised myself on my elbow and looked eagerly about.
-
-“He had no time to carry off a thing,” said Mrs. Griffiths.
-
-* * * * *
-
-“I would like to set my eyes on him,” I remarked, when Miss Gwynne
-had concluded her story. “You are a distinguished woman and are--I
-believe--the very first one who ever received an offer of marriage from
-a burglar.”
-
-The lady smiled. “Do you not remember reading about the capture of
-a notorious bank robber, several years ago? The case created quite a
-sensation, owing partly to the difficulty in tracing the thief, who was
-clever enough to puzzle the most expert detectives and evade the police,
-and also to the respectability of his position. No one could believe him
-guilty.”
-
-“Indeed I do remember it,” I answered. “Not only that, but I _saw_ the
-man after he was in prison. I happened to be going through Chester Jail
-at the time and J------ was pointed out to me. He was quite
-distinguished looking. In fact, I did not believe him guilty.”
-
-“Nor would I,” said Miss Gwynne, “if I had not known.”
-
-“You mean,” I said, “that he----
-
-“I mean that you saw _my burglar_.”
-
-[Illustration: 5305]
-
-[Illustration: 0306]
-
-[Illustration: 0307]
-
-[Illustration: 0308]
-
-
-
-
-THE LADY IN ROUGE, By W. E. P. French
-
-[Illustration: 9308]
-
-“Pretty woman! That's just like a man. Pretty chromo, you mean, Tom.”
-
-“Well,” in a hearty, pleasant voice, “maybe you are the better judge;
-but I don't believe she's 'made up,' and if I wasn't the most henpecked
-man on earth I'd say she was the loveliest creature I ever saw. As for
-her hair, it's----”
-
-“Blondined! And so utterly impossible in color that it couldn't for
-a moment fool anybody but a man,” interrupted the first speaker, with
-deliciously spiteful emphasis on the very common noun man.
-
-“Eyebrows stencilled, eyelashes darkened; lips, ears and finger tips
-tinged with carmine--don't you know? Complexion enamel, vinegar rouge
-and brunette powder--pshaw! The way the men go on about her makes me
-positively ill. If you fall in love with her, Harry, you are no brother
-of mine. I don't care to be sister-in-law to a lithograph in _fast_
-colors.”
-
-“You make me curious to see her, Nell, dear. By Jove, she must be either
-a monster or a paragon! Have the spirit of a man, Tom, and tell me
-which.”
-
-“Don't try to extract any more information from me, old man; my teeth
-are positively chattering with terror. You can decide for yourself this
-evening, if your ferocious sister will allow you to leave your room. By
-the way,” with an amused laugh, “what do you suppose Nell and the rest
-of her charitable sex up here have dubbed the poor girl? 'The lady in
-rouge!'”
-
-“Yes, and she ought to have a sign, 'Paint, don't touch.' I believe
-she is a divorcée or a widow, and I know she's thirty in spite of her
-sickening affectation of youth.”
-
-“Oh, come, Nell, you are absolutely vicious. She is not a day over
-twenty, and she has the prettiest name I ever heard, Violante Solander;
-accent on the second syllable, Harry, not on the first, to rhyme with
-Hollander, as the bride of my bosom insists on pronouncing it.”
-
-“Sounds like a combination of Spanish and Scandinavian,” the younger man
-answers.
-
-“It is,” returns his brother-in-law. “I have met her father several
-times at the Cosmos Club in Washington. He is a Norwegian, a wonderfully
-handsome man, of the purest blonde type, with charming old-time manners
-and a voice as deep and sonorous as a fine bell. Jack Kendricks, who
-knows him quite well, told me something of his history. As a young man
-he traveled pretty much all over the world, and in South America met and
-married Miss Viola's mother. She was an Ecuadorean of Spanish descent,
-and so beautiful that she was called, in reference to her name, which
-was the same as her daughter's, 'The Violet of Quito.' It is really a
-case of the Arctic zone wedding the Equator.”
-
-“Or of a walrus committing matrimony with a llama. No wonder she is
-neither fish, flesh nor fowl,” added madame, with a malicious emphasis
-that made both men laugh.
-
-This conversation floated up to me as I sat smoking my cigar on the
-forward edge of the hurricane deck of the little steamer that carried
-passengers from the railroad station at the foot of a beautiful and
-well-known lake in the Adirondacks to the village at the head of it,
-whither we were all bound.
-
-The party of three had crossed from the other side of the boat and Were
-leaning against the guards immediately under me. Later on I came to
-know them all well. The lady was a delightful little bundle of
-inconsistencies, sharp of tongue, quick of temper and jealous of all
-that belonged to her, but as generous as an Arab, very warm hearted,
-perfectly fearless and honest and a loyal friend when won. She was born
-Miss Eleanor Van Zandt, a family with a tree and traditions, pride,
-possessions and position; but the fact that she belonged in the top
-layer of the Four Hundred did not prevent her, some ten years before,
-refusing a scion of the English nobility (a very wealthy one, too, if
-you'll believe me), to her mother's Infinite disgust, and giving her
-dimpled little hand, where she had already given her heart, to
-big, kindly, genial Thomas Northrup, who was every inch a man and a
-gentleman, but who was third in direct descent (and gloried in it, too)
-from old John Northrup, saddle and harness maker, of whom I have heard
-it told by one that saw it that he died on his sixtieth birthday in
-the battle of Gettysburg, from some twenty bullet wounds received while
-carrying the colors of his regiment, and that his last words were:
-“Don't let the Johnnies get the flag!”
-
-I feel it to be my painful duty to relate that Madame Nell, when
-remonstrated with by her family upon the plebeian nature of the match
-she was about to make, flew into a violent rage and said she would
-gladly trade a baker's dozen of her eminently high and wellborn
-Knickerbocker ancestors for “that grand old saddler.” The Van Zandt
-crest is a lion rampant gardant, and shortly after the wedding an aunt,
-who had declined to be present, received a spirited sketch of the family
-beast, leaning upon a musket in the position of parade rest, carrying a
-flag in his mouth and bearing upon his lordly back a monstrous saddle,
-the motto in the surrounding heraldic belt being, “Don't let the
-Johnnies get the flag!” This cheerful device was accompanied by a very
-deferential and affectionate note from the bride, asking her aunt if she
-did not think it a pretty way of combining the Northrup family (saddle)
-tree with the crest of the Van Zandts, or if she thought the “dear old
-lion” would appear to better advantage under a saddle that would conceal
-him entirely from the gaze of the vulgar herd.
-
-The old lady declined to receive Mrs. Northrup from that time until the
-day of her death, about four years later, but when her will was opened
-it was found that she had left $200,000 to her niece, Eleanor Van Zandt,
-“as a mark of respect for her truth, courage and _artistic ability_,”
- and $10,000 for a monument “to that gallant soldier and true gentleman,
-John Northrup, who died on the field of Gettysburg in the defense of his
-country's flag.” Nell designed the monument, and every Decoration Day
-she puts a saddle made of flowers on the old lady's grave. But to my
-tale.
-
-Harry Van Zandt, at the time of which I write, was about twenty-six,
-tall, broad shouldered, athletic, brown as to eyes, hair, skin and
-pointed beard, an engineer and architect by profession, an advanced and
-liberal thinker for so young a man, full of high spirits, though with
-a depth and earnestness of purpose very refreshing in these days when
-selfish indifference is the rule, and altogether a manly, honorable,
-self reliant and energetic young fellow. He had charming manners,
-reverenced all women, rich or poor, proud or humble, and treated old
-people with an affectionate deference that won him many friends.
-
-The steamer had changed her course to the left rather sharply, heading
-for her wharf, when a Long Lake boat, with a woman at the sculls and
-a young man holding the tiller ropes, crossed our bow and floated by
-within fifteen feet of us. I did not need the quick, “There she is!
-Look, Harry!” from Mr. Northrup to know that it was Miss Solander. She
-had turned her head slightly toward them to bow, and the setting sun
-shone squarely in her face, making the wonderful amber hair seem
-a nimbus of golden light against the dark background of her huge
-Gainsborough hat.
-
-A more perfectly, harmoniously, radiantly beautiful girl I have
-never seen. Her coloring was simply marvelous, and I inclined to Mrs.
-Northrup's opinion that it must be artificial. It is impossible to give
-an adequate description of her--the wonderful child-woman. A face of
-rounded and exquisite contours, the skin of that warmest, richest,
-brunette type that is almost dusky; cheeks that had the soft, tender,
-velvety bloom of a sun-kissed peach; a charming mouth, scarlet as a
-flower, ripe, luscious, sensitive, ready to curve with sweet, swift
-laughter or to droop with grief. Her eyes, in the glimpse I had of her,
-I took to be black or a very dark brown, but later I found they were
-of that rare deep blue that becomes violet by an artificial light, and,
-indeed, owing to the length and thickness of the dark lashes, it was not
-easy at any time to determine their exact color, much less shade. Well,
-she was more nearly perfect than any other human thing I ever hope to
-see.
-
-               From her gold-flax curls' most marvelous shine,
-
-                   Down to her lithe and delicate feet,
-
-               There was not a curve nor a waving line
-
-                   But moved in a harmony firm and sweet.
-
-As she passed from view I looked down at the trio below me. Mrs.
-Northrup was regarding her brother curiously, and I don't think either
-she or I was at all surprised when he turned, his face aglow with
-enthusiasm, and said: “What a lovely girl!” Then, with quick change of
-tone, “Who is that man with her?”
-
-“Lovely as a Prang,” remarked my lady, dryly. “The man is your hated
-rival, of whom you are already madly jealous. He is young, beautiful
-and rich, dances divinely, speaks _real_ English and has very nearly
-a tablespoonful of brains--not that he needs such a preponderance of
-brain, for he has enough money to make a social success of a
-jibbering idiot. His name is Francis Floyd-Jones, but we speak of him
-affectionately as 'Fluggeon,' and those that know him best sometimes
-lovingly refer to him as 'Balaam's Ass'--but you'll like him, Harry.”
-
-Van Zandt's reply I did not hear, as I discreetly moved away; but
-I heard both men laugh, and I joined them heartily when at a safe
-distance.
-
-When we landed I found we were all bound for the same hotel, a capital
-one, named for and kept by one of a famous hotel-keeping family. The
-Northrups' little girl, a madcap child of six, was on the lawn waiting
-the return of her parents and the arrival of her uncle, of whom she was
-evidently very fond, although she abandoned him speedily in order to hug
-and kiss his superb Irish setter, Blarney, who licked the small imp's
-face calmly and appeared in his grave dog's way genuinely glad to see
-her.
-
-Ethel, as I found out in a day or two, had taken one of those intense
-fancies that children do occasionally to almost entire strangers to “the
-lady in rouge,” and would escape to her whenever chance permitted. Poor
-Mrs. Northrup! Her ranks were deserters to the enemy. Her husband openly
-admired the gorgeously-tinted girl, her child simply worshipped her, her
-brother had palpably fallen in love at first sight, and, when we came
-out from dinner, it was found that Blarney had dumbly sworn allegiance
-to the violet of two zones and could with difficulty be induced to leave
-her. The dog's infatuation was put to-practical service by his master
-during the next few weeks, for that astute young gentleman, when unable
-to discover the whereabouts of his idol by peering and prowling, would
-take one of Blarney's silky ears in his hand and whisper, “Go, find
-her, boy,” which the clever animal promptly proceeded to do, usually
-successfully, though often the search would receive a check on the edge
-of the lake and be resumed after a run of a mile on the island.
-
-Madame Nell and I soon discovered that we had a host of common friends
-in New York and Washington, and that an uncle on her mother's side (poor
-Dick Whitney, who was lost on the _Ville de Havre_) had been a classmate
-of mine at Harvard forty odd years before. These kindly young people
-were as good and affectionate to me as though I had been a relative, and
-the heart of a lonely old man went out to them gratefully and lovingly.
-
-By the way, I am tempted to repeat a compliment that I overheard toward
-the end of the summer, because it was the pleasantest and heartiest I
-ever had paid to me, or rather about me. Charge it to the garrulity of
-age or simple conceit, but here it is:
-
-I came up behind them one dark night on the piazza, just as Mrs.
-Northrop turned to her husband and said: “Do you know, Tom, dear, I
-think Dr. Zobel is the very nicest old man I ever knew; he has the head
-of a sage and the fresh, pure heart of a little child.”
-
-[Illustration: 0316]
-
-There was a hop that first evening in the large drawing room of the
-hotel, and a little while before the music began I wandered in to find
-three or four small groups talking and laughing, among them Van Zandt
-and his sister. She made room for me on the sofa, and said I should be
-her attendant cavalier, as she did not intend to dance. We chatted a
-bit and then madame began a running commentary on the people as they
-entered.
-
-“The Robinsons--papa, mamma and daughter. Papa looketh upon the wine
-when it is red. Mamma is a devout Catholic. Daughter openly defies both
-parents and, I am convinced, hath a devil. I have ventured to rename
-them 'Rum, Romanism and Rebellion.'”
-
-“What De Quincy would call 'an overt act of alliteration,' Nell,” said
-Van Zandt, and added: “Who is the imposing-looking old girl leading the
-small, meek man?”
-
-“Where? Oh! of course. The lion and the lamb. Mrs. Colter is literary,
-writes things, reads Browning understanding (happy woman!), quotes Greek
-to people that never harmed her, and herds the lamb, who never has
-any capers in his sauce, and who is, I am told, her third matrimonial
-venture.”
-
-“A fulfillness of prophecy,” murmured Harry, “'And the lion and the lamb
-shall lie down together.'”
-
-“Harry, you are incorrigible. The young man of peculiarly unwholesome
-appearance who has just sneaked in is, I am morally certain, Uriah Heep,
-though he says his name is Penrose. That [as a handsome old lady of
-large proportions came into the room] is Miss Eldridge. She is very
-nice, but is omnipresent, so we call her 'The Almighty,' Her escort
-is Mr. Hinton; he is the biggest, jolliest and--except my Tom--the
-bestnatured man here. Everyone calls him 'Jumbo' or 'Billy' Look out for
-him, Buz; he is another rival and determined to have the chromo at any
-price. There she is with 'Buttons' in tow, and the disconsolate 'Wafer'
-vainly endeavoring to console himself with his divinity's aunt.”
-
-The young gentlemen were aptly named. The first, a handsome young West
-Pointer on furlough, in all the glory of cadet gray and a multitude of
-bell buttons; the other, a pleasant-faced fellow, surprisingly tall and
-thin. Nell had introduced Van Zandt and me to Miss Solander and her
-aunt shortly after dinner, and I had had a very pleasant chat with
-the stately, whitehaired old lady, who was so proud and fond of her
-exquisite niece. She was Mr. Solander's sister and the widow of Captain
-Dupont of the French Navy.
-
-Several friends of Mrs. Northrup joined her, and Van Zandt excused
-himself and went to make one of the little group of men around Miss
-Solander, followed by a parting injunction from his sister to remember
-that benzine would remove paint spots if applied while they were fresh.
-
-Beautiful as this flower-faced girl was at all times, by lamp light and
-in evening dress she was lovely beyond all power of words to express,
-and as I came to know her I found that her beauty was not alone in her
-superb coloring, in the perfect lines of her face and figure or in her
-exuberant health, but was in her life; for she was--and is--that rare,
-sweet thing, a womanly woman, brave, strong, gentle, generous, pure of
-heart and clean of thought, a lover of truth, a hater of meanness, with
-a mind broadened by travel and burnished by attrition; and she carried,
-moreover, a cloak of charity of such wide and ample fold that it fell
-lovingly over even the follies and frailties of those weaker ones of her
-own sex and was proof against the arrows of envy.
-
-With old people and children she was a great favorite; the men were her
-enthusiastic admirers, and a good half dozen of them were helplessly,
-hopelessly, over head and ears in love with her; but a number of the
-young married women and girls professed strong disapproval of her,
-on similar grounds to those outlined by Mrs. Northrup on the steamer,
-though I had my private suspicions that, in some cases at least, they
-were a trifle jealous of the attention she received from the men, who,
-as is generally the case at summer resorts, were not overabundant. Mrs.
-Northrup's dislike was an honest one, for she firmly believed the girl
-was artificial, and having carefully avoided an intimacy knew but little
-of the lovely nature and bright mind that no one was better fitted to
-appreciated than she.
-
-Besides, Madame Nell was a born matchmaker and wanted her adored
-brother to marry her particular friend and crony, Miss Carrie Belmont,
-a brighteyed, keen-witted, merry little soul, who took nothing seriously
-except medicine and had about as much fixedness of purpose as a
-month-old kitten. To a man like Van Zandt, who needed both the curb and
-spur of a mentality as strong and earnest as his own, she would have
-been about as valuable a helpmeet as was poor little Dora to David
-Copperfield. But Nell was fond of the pretty, clever little creature,
-felt sure (as our mothers and sisters, God bless 'em! always do) that
-her brother was thoroughly incapable of picking out the right kind of
-a wife, and weeks before he came had perceived in Miss Solander's
-marvelous loveliness a dangerous and powerful factor in the personal
-equations she wished to make equal to each other, so that by the
-transposition of matrimony they should become one.
-
-Of course this knowledge came to me gradually; but even that first
-evening, as Van Zandt and Miss Solander passed near us in the waltz, I
-could see that he was wonderfully taken with his fair partner. For the
-next few days he was more or less the victim of some little sisterly
-traps that were set with great tact and amused Northrup and me
-immensely. Then my young gentleman escaped and made great running,
-distancing “Buttons,” “The Wafer,” “Balaam's Ass,” and the rest of what
-Nell called the “fry,” and crowding Hinton closely for what each felt
-was his life's race for a prize that might be for neither of them. They
-were a nice, manly, generous pair of rivals, and I never saw either take
-an unfair advantage of the other. I remember one day I was fishing,
-when they both rushed down to their boats and started for the island
-at racing stroke. Just as they were abreast of me Van Zandt, who was
-leading, broke a rowlock, and Hinton forged ahead; but the moment he saw
-what had occurred he backed water, tossed Harry an extra rowlock, waited
-until he had put it in, and then away they went again.
-
-Which was the favored one it was for some time difficult to decide, as
-the girl was evidently used to a great deal of attention, and accepted
-it gracefully and even gratefully; but yet somehow as though it was a
-matter of course. She took many things as matters of course, by the way,
-among others her beauty, of which she was as little vain as a flower
-is of its color or perfume, and she labored under the pleasant delusion
-that men liked her simply because she could dance and ride and row and
-shoot and play tennis. There was another thing she played beside tennis,
-and that was the banjo, and it seemed to me that her rich, flexible
-contralto, the liquid tingle of the banjo and the Spanish words of the
-song she loved best to sing, made a harmony as soft and sweet as the
-fragrant, moonlit nights of her Southern home.
-
-Until I read the generous and intelligent praise of the banjo by the
-gifted pen of America's greatest writer of romance, I had been rather
-diffident of expressing my liking for this charming instrument, partly
-because it was rather impressed upon me by my parents, who were a little
-tinged with Puritanism, that it was low, and partly because a musical
-friend, whose opinion in matters harmonic I always deferred to, disliked
-it; but, under the rose, I thought it delicious, and many years ago I
-used to wander pretty often to a beer garden in New York, where an old
-darky named Horace touched the strings with a master's hand and drew
-from them the half sad, half merry, but wholly sweet melodies of his
-child-hearted race, which always struck some responsive chord in me that
-no other music ever did.
-
-There was a good deal of musical talent in the three hotels that
-summer. Miss Solander, Miss Belmont, Hinton and Van Zandt were a capital
-quartet; Mrs. Robinson was an accomplished pianist and accompanist;
-a young girl from Troy sang Irish songs to a zither delightfully;
-“Buttons” gave us the lays of West Point, and “Balaam's Ass,” as Mrs.
-Northrup expressed it, “really brayed very melodiously.”
-
-Van Zandt had one decided advantage over the other men in his wooing,
-for he had brought his own saddle horse with him, and as Miss Solander
-had hers, a beautiful and very fast bay mare, and was an enthusiastic
-horsewoman, riding nearly every day, wet or dry, he frequently managed
-to be her escort.
-
-They asked me to go with them one morning for a long ride through the
-mountains, and as it was not impossible that we might see a deer or some
-birds Miss Viola took her repeating shotgun, a pretty and close-shooting
-little weapon with which she was very expert, and Van Zandt and I our
-Stevens rifles.
-
-My mount was the best to be had in the village, and was a strong, slow
-animal, intended by nature to grace a plow.
-
-It was a grand day, crisp and clear, and the first level stretch of road
-we came to my young companions decided to have a race. Away they went,
-Blarney and I at an increasing interval behind them. At a turn in the
-road, about a quarter of a mile ahead, Harry's big gray was leading
-the mare by a good length, and when they rejoined me Miss Solander
-acknowledged her defeat handsomely, but put in a saving clause for her
-pet by adding, “She runs her best when frightened. I don't think even
-your splendid gray could catch her if we saw a bear.”
-
-Harry laughed pleasantly, said he imagined his horse, too, might develop
-unexpected speed under such circumstances, and we cantered on. A little
-before noon we left the main road and struck into a bridle path that
-led through a dense pine forest, utterly impassable by reason of fallen
-trees and underbush, except on the narrow trail. We had not gone
-far when our way seemed barred by a huge dead pine that had fallen
-slantingly across the path and rested on a great boulder on the other
-side. It was too high to jump near the roots without great danger and
-the triangular opening by the rock did not look high enough for a horse
-to go through. However, we dismounted and managed to get the animals
-through, though there was very little room to spare.
-
-In about half a mile we came to the edge of the wood, and the trail
-widened out to ten or twelve feet, bordered by a dense second growth
-of ash. Perhaps a thousand yards farther on Blarney became excited over
-some fresh tracks in the sandy soil, which we found were those of a deer
-that had passed only a few minutes before, as was shown by a clump of
-fern that was slowly straightening its crushed and bent fronds by the
-side of the narrow road. Miss Solander and I halted, while Harry
-rode quietly on ahead after Blarney, who was acting rather queerly, I
-thought, following the deer track for a few feet, then pausing, with
-nose in the air and bristling back, to snuff the air and growl. Van
-Zandt spoke to him, and the dog went steadily and slowly forward. He was
-a clever beast and the only setter I ever saw that could hunt all
-kinds of game well. Miss Solander promptly emptied the magazine of her
-shotgun, and refilled it with wire cartridges loaded with “buck and
-ball.”
-
-I was watching Van Zandt, who was a few hundred feet away, when there
-was a crashing noise in the brush, and midway between him and us a
-good-sized black bear stepped out on the trail. My horse made a buck
-jump that nearly unseated me and backed half his length into the bush.
-Bang! Bang! went Miss Viola's gun. The bear stumbled, gave a roar of
-pain and rage, and started for us. The mare plunged wildly, wheeled
-about sharply and flew back by the way we came. The brute I rode was
-paralyzed with terror and I could not budge him, nor did I dare to shoot
-for fear of hitting Van Zandt, and my position of course kept his rifle
-silent. But he took in the situation at a glance, fired in the air, gave
-a yell that a panther might have envied, and came toward us at a gallop.
-
-[Illustration: 0326]
-
-The bear turned to look at this new enemy, and rose promptly on his
-hind legs to receive him. I saw the gray swerve slightly, heard a savage
-“Jump, ------ you!” from Van Zandt, saw his spurs go home, and then the
-great horse rise to the leap and skim over the bear in a splendid arch.
-Blarney, who was just behind his master, was not so fortunate. He lit
-fairly on the bear, and was sadly scratched and bitten before he got
-away. Van Zandt shouted, “I must catch her before she gets to the fallen
-tree!” and went by me like a whirlwind. It was not much over a mile, she
-had a hundred yards and more the start of him, and the mare was going
-like the wind. I fired a shot as soon as the gray passed me, and the
-report seemed to rouse my horse, who, oblivious to spur and voice, had
-cowered shivering in the brush, for he shook himself, snorted, took
-a last look at the bear, which was preparing to join the procession,
-turned tail and fled, developing speed of which I would not have
-believed him capable.
-
-It was a horrible ride, not on account of the bear, which might have
-been a mouse for all the thought I gave it, but because there, ahead of
-me, in that narrow road, a beautiful girl, just blossoming into splendid
-womanhood, was rushing to an awful, ghastly death, and a few cruel yards
-behind her the man that loved her and would so gladly have given his
-life for hers. Oh, how my heart ached for him, and how I wished the old
-man that was third in that terrible race might die instead of that sweet
-child-woman! Could he overtake her? He was spurring fiercely and the
-gray was doing his best; but though the gap between them was closing,
-it was closing slowly--and we had entered the wood. Yes, he was surely
-gaining now, sixty feet more and he would have her. But there was the
-tree, and he couldn't reach her in time. I covered my eyes with my hands
-and turned sick and faint. Then came back to me in a man's voice grown
-shrill with agony, one word, and following it crash! crash! in rapid
-succession, and again the sound of the hurrying hoof beats.
-
-I opened my eyes. Was I blinded by my tears? There were no dreadful
-bundles under the tree. Then that word, with its fierce, imperious note
-of command, which had conveyed no meaning to me in that first awful
-moment, came through the porch of the outer ear, where it had lingered,
-into the brain, and I understood--“Jump!” He had taken the one chance
-left to them at the last moment, shrieked his order at her, and she
-had obeyed, lifting her mare to a leap that looked impossible. He had
-followed her, and they had cleared it safely, for I could see their
-heads over the fallen trunk. I checked my horse, dismounted, led him
-through the opening and galloped on again.
-
-In a few moments I had the pleasure of seeing the gray range up
-alongside of the mare and Van Zandt seize her bridle. I joined them and
-found they were sound in life and limb. Harry was standing by the mare's
-head, quieting her, and somehow he had gotten possession of a little
-gauntleted hand and was looking at the girl with a world of love in his
-fine eyes. She was quite pale, but her face was steadfast and strong,
-and in it as she met Van Zandt's look frankly was the dawning of
-something that she was unaware of yet, something that, if she lived
-would crown her lover's life with happiness “sweet beyond compare”--and
-my old heart was glad for them both.
-
-Neither Blarney nor the bear was in sight, and as I had hung on to my
-rifle half unconsciously I proposed going back to look for the dog, but
-they insisted on accompanying me, and Miss Solander showed her own gun
-in its carbine holster with the flap buttoned. I tell you it took nerve
-for a girl on a runaway horse to do that bit of work. Well, we went
-cautiously back, Van Zandt holding a strap fastened to the mare's
-bridle, and I on ahead. Nothing in sight until we got out of the wood
-and had made a slight turn. Then we saw Blarney, very ragged and bloody,
-but with an air of proud ownership, sniffing around the dead body of
-the bear. We had some trouble in bringing up the horses, but managed it
-finally.
-
-Everyone seemed to feel after that that Van Zandt would win and wear
-the violet. Even Mrs. Northrup was preparing to bow gracefully to
-the inevitable, when Ethel came on the scene in the rôle of “enfante
-terrible” and spoke her little piece.
-
-It was a lovely summer afternoon. The next day, Monday, was Miss Viola's
-twenty-first birthday; her father was to arrive by the evening boat,
-and several of the young men had planned rowing and sailing races in her
-honor. Mr. and Mrs. Northrup, Miss Belmont, Hinton and I were chatting
-in a little summer house just by the edge of the lake, and a few feet
-away, Viola, Harry and Ethel were skipping flat stones over the water.
-In a pause in our talk, which had been of Byron, just after someone had
-quoted:
-
-                   She was his life,
-
-                   The ocean to the river of his thoughts,
-
-                   Which terminated all,
-
-We were all looking at the trio outside and speculating probably upon
-the future of two of them, when we saw Ethel seize Miss Solander's hand,
-look up at her adoringly, and heard her say, in her childish pipes:
-“You're so pretty! Why does mamma called you 'the colored lady?' You're
-not a nigger, are you?”
-
-The girl flushed painfully, but stooped, kissed the child and, looking
-straight at Mrs. Northrup, said very gently: “No, dear; and if mamma
-knew me better she would not think I was colored.” Then she turned,
-bowed slightly and walked rapidly up the beach. Nell burst into tears,
-Van Zandt muttered something that didn't sound like a prayer and tore
-after his lady love. Northrup was so startled and angry that, instead of
-comforting his wife, he gave her a little shake and exploded with: “It's
-too ----- ---------- bad! A nice mess you and the brat have made of
-things!” Then, as the ludicrous side of the affair appealed to his
-fun-loving nature: “To save time, I'll spank Ethel while you roll out the
-crust of a nice, re: “To save time, I'll spank Ethel while you roll out
-the crust of a nice, big humble pie.”
-
-Hinton and Miss Belmont slunk off, and I was preparing to follow them,
-when the unhappy little woman sobbed out, “Oh, Doctor, please, please
-don't go! Stay and tell me what to do. Tom's so nasty--if you laugh, Tom
-dear, I'll kill you.” So I stayed, and while we were consulting what was
-best to do Van Zandt came quietly into the summer house, his face and
-tightly-closed lips ashen, and his eyes the eyes of a strong man
-in pain. Nell rushed at him, exclaiming: “My poor Harry, my darling
-brother! I am so sorry; try to forgive me!”
-
-He put her away from him with no show of anger, but very coldly, and
-then, very evenly and in an emotionless, mechanical sort of way, he
-said: “I have asked Miss Solander to be my wife. She refused me. I hope
-you are satisfied. I give you my word of honor that I will never forgive
-you, nor speak to you, until she accepts your apology and my love--and
-that will be never,” he added, heavily, and half under his breath. There
-was no doubt that he meant it and would stick to it, and his sister,
-who knew he never broke his word, after one appealing look at him, threw
-herself in her husband's arms and sobbed miserably. I followed the boy
-and took an old man's privilege. He listened patiently and thanked me
-affectionately, but it was of no use. Then I tried to find Miss Viola,
-and came across Nell on the same quest; but no one saw her until the
-next afternoon.
-
-Monday was cloudy and windy, a real gray day. The races were to begin
-at 3 o'clock, and the entire community was gathered on the shore of the
-lake. Both Miss Solander and Van Zandt were entered, and I knew their
-pride would make them show up. The first race was for ladies in Long
-Lake boats over a half mile course and return, six entries, a handicap
-of one hundred yards on Miss Solander and fifty on Mrs. Claggett. Viola
-beat it handsomely and then rowed directly across to the island, where
-she would have a good view of the sailing race, though I think her
-object was more to escape the crowd.
-
-[Illustration: 0332]
-
-After an interval of a few minutes three canoes, manned by Hinton, Van
-Zandt and another man, came up to the starter's boat.
-
-The canoes got away together, Van Zandt to leeward. They had gone
-perhaps a quarter of a mile when a squall from the opposite shore struck
-them, and the canoe with the violet pennant (Harry's) went over like a
-flash, the other two, with loose sheets, running before the wind. Mrs.
-Northrup screamed, and so did several other women; but Van Zandt was a
-capital swimmer, and I expected every moment to see him on the bottom of
-the canoe.
-
-Half a dozen men started in rowboats, but one shot out from the island
-and fairly flew for the capsized craft. It was Viola, and we saw her,
-when she reached her goal, stand up, shake off her outer skirts and
-dive. I had a powerful glass, and when she came up I saw she had him and
-was trying to reach her boat, which was drifting away. She gave that
-up and struggled toward the canoe. They went down, and then the rescue
-boats hid them. It seemed an eternity before two boats pulled swiftly
-toward us. In the first was Van Zandt, a nasty cut on his head and
-unconscious, but breathing faintly. In the next, held in the arms of
-poor “Buttons,” whose tears were dropping on her lovely white face, was
-the sweet child-woman, all the wonderful rose tints gone from lip and
-cheek and in its place the sad, cold hue of death. There was no sign of
-vitality, and I was hopeless from the first; but we were still working
-over her when the steamer came in, and the next thing we knew there was
-a heart-broken cry and her father had her in his arms.
-
-Was it the bitter agony and yearning love in that strong man's cry that
-called back the fleeing life, or was it the sudden jar of lifting her
-and the fierce clasp of her father's arms that started the stilled
-lungs? I do not know; but, physician though I am, I incline to the
-former solution. Whatever may have been the cause there was a faint
-flutter in pulse and breast, and we renewed our efforts. In half an
-hour she was breathing softly and the color was coming back to her
-bonny face. Her father carried her up to the hotel and her aunt and Mrs.
-Northrup got her to bed. She recovered rapidly, but Van Zandt was pretty
-ill for about a week, and positively refused to see his sister.
-
-Well, I suppose it was officious and meddlesome in me, but one day when
-I knew where Violante was I took Nell's hand in my arm and brought them
-together. In a few minutes they were crying over each other in real
-womanly fashion, and I prowled off. In about ten minutes little Nell,
-her eyes shining with happiness, hunted me up and said, “I want you to
-take me to Harry.” She showed me in her hand a beautiful and curious
-ring, which I knew was the engagement ring of Miss Viola's mother.
-Harry was sitting in an easy chair, with his back to the door, when we
-entered, and, without turning his head, he asked, “Is that you, Doctor?”
-
-I answered him, and then Nell stole up behind him, dropped the great
-ruby in his lap, and whispered, with a sob in her voice, “With my
-dear sister Violante's love.” Harry looked at the ring stupidly for an
-instant, then Nell came around in front of him, and he pulled her down
-into his arms without a word. And I stole away with wet eyes and a
-glad heart, and told the news to Tom and Carrie and that prince of good
-fellows, “Jumbo” Hinton.
-
-That is about all. Mr. Solander gave his consent and something more
-substantial, and two months later I went to the wedding of “The Lady in
-Rouge.”
-
-[Illustration: 0335]
-
-[Illustration: 0336]
-
-
-
-
-THE BREAKING OF WINTER, By Patience Stapleton
-
-
-|That's the fust funerel I've went to sence I was a gal, but that I
-drove to the graveyard.”
-
-“I dunno as that done the corp enny good.”
-
-“An' seems all to onc't I miss old Tige,” muttered the first speaker
-half to herself.
-
-It was snowing now, a fine mist sifting down on deep-drifted stone-walls
-and hard, shining roads, and the tinkle of sleigh-bells, as a far-away
-black line wound over the hill to the bleak graveyard, sounded musical
-and sweet in the muffled air. Two black figures in the dazzling white
-landscape left the traveled road and ploughed heavily along a lane
-leading to a grove of maples, cold and naked in the winter scene.
-
-“They say Ann Kirk left a good prop'ty,” said the first speaker, a woman
-of fifty, with sharp black eyes, red cheeks, few wrinkles and fewer gray
-hairs in the black waves under her pumpkin hood. She pulled her worn
-fur cape around her neck and took a new grasp on her shawl, pinning it
-tight. “Ann an' me used to take a sight of comfort driving old Tige.”
-
-The man, her companion, grunted and went sturdily ahead. He was
-enveloped in a big overcoat, a scarf wound around his neck and a
-moth-eaten fur cap pulled down over his ears. His blue eyes were watery
-from the cold, his nose and chin peaked and purple, and frost clung to
-the short gray beard about his mouth.
-
-“Who'll git the prop'ty?” panted the woman. She held her gown up in
-front, disclosing a pair of blue socks drawn over her shoes.
-
-“Relashuns, I s'pose.”
-
-“She was alius so savin', keepin' drip-pins for fryin', and sfellin'
-nearly every mite of butter they made; an' I've heered the Boston
-relashuns was extravagant. Her sister hed on a black silk to the funerel
-to ride to the grave in; I guess they are well-to-do.”
-
-“Dunno,” gruffly.
-
-Somehow then the woman remembered that glossy silk, and that she had
-never had one. Then this sister's husband, how attentive he was leading
-his wife out to the sleigh, and she had seen them walking arm-in-arm
-the past summer, when no man in Corinth ever offered his arm to his wife
-unless it were to a funeral and they were first mourners. “Silas never
-give me his arm but the fust Sunday we were merried,” she thought;
-“bein' kind to wimmen wan't never the Loweirs way.” A sharp pain in her
-side made her catch her breath and stop a moment, but the man paid no
-heed to her distress. At the end of a meadow on a little rise looking
-down a long, shady lane, stood a gray old farm-house, to which age had
-given picturesqueness and beauty, and here Maria Lowell had lived the
-thirty years of her married life. She unlocked the door and went into
-the cold kitchen where the fire had died down. A lean cat came purring
-from under the table, and the old clock seemed to tick more cheerily now
-the mistress had returned.
-
-“A buryin' on Christmas Eve, the minister said, and how sad it were,
-and I felt like tellin' him Ann an' me never knowed Christmas from enny
-other day, even to vittles, for turkeys fetched better prices then, an'
-we sold ourn.” She went into a frozen bedroom, for Corinth folks would
-have thought a man crazy to have a fire in a sleeping-room except in
-sickness; she folded her shawl and cape and laid them carefully on the
-feather bed, covered with its gay quilt, the fruit of her lonely hours.
-Mechanically she set about getting supper, stirring the fire, putting a
-pan of soda biscuits in to bake, and setting a dish of dried-apple sauce
-and a plate of ginger cookies on the table. “Berried on Chrismus Eve,
-but little she ever thought of it, nor me, and little of it Jimmy hed
-here to home.”
-
-She looked at her biscuits, slammed the oven door, glanced cautiously
-around to see if Silas, who had gone to milk the cow, were coming; then
-drawing her thin lips tighter, went back into the cold bedroom. With
-ruthless hand tearing open an old wound, she unlocked a drawer in
-the old mahogany bureau and took out something rolled in a
-handkerchief--only a tiny vase, blue and gilt, woefully cheap, laughed
-at by the cultured, scorned by the children of today. She held it
-tenderly in her cold hand and brought back the memory that would never
-die. It was years and years ago in that very room, and a little child
-came in holding one chubby hand behind him, and he looked at her
-with her own bright eyes under his curly hair. “Muver, Jimmy's got a
-s'prise.” She remembered she told him crossly to go out of the cold room
-and not bother her. She remembered, too, that his lip quivered, the lip
-that had yet the baby curve. “It was a present, muver, like the minister
-sed. I got candy on the tree, but you didn't git nawthin', and I buyed
-you this with my berry money.” The poor little vase in that warm chubby
-hand--ay, she forgot nothing now; she told him he was silly to spend
-good money on trash, and flung the vase aside, but that grieved childish
-face came back always. Ah, it would never fade away, it had returned
-for a quarter of a century. “I never was used to young ones,” she
-said aloud, “nor kindness,” but that would not heal the wound; no
-self-apology could. She went hurriedly to the kitchen, for Silas was
-stamping the snow off his feet in the entry.
-
-“I got fifty dollars for old Tige,” he said, as he poured his tea into
-his saucer to cool; “he was wuth it, the honest old creetur!”
-
-The little black-eyed woman did not answer; she only tightened her lips.
-Over the mantel where the open fireplace had been bricked up, was a
-picture in a narrow black frame, a colored print of Washington on a fine
-white horse, and maidens strewing flowers in his pathway.
-
-“When Tige was feelin' good,” continued Silas, “he'd a monstrous likeness
-to thet hoss in the pictur, monstrous! held his hed high an' pranced;
-done you good to see him in Bath when them hosses tried to parss him;
-you'd a thort he was a four-year-old! chock full of pride. The hackman
-sed he was a good 'un, but run down; I don't 'low to overfeed stock when
-they ain't wurkin'.”
-
-“Ourn has the name of bein' half starved,” muttered the woman.
-
-Silas looked at her in some surprise. “I ginerelly gits good prices for
-'em all the same.”
-
-“We ginerelly overreach every one!”
-
-“Goin' to Ann's funerel hez sorter upset ye, M'ri. Lord, how old Tige
-would cavort when Jim would ride him; throw out his heels like a colt.
-I never told the hackman Tige was eighteen year old. I ain't over
-pertikler in a hoss trade, like everybody else. He wun't last long I
-calc'late now, for them hack horses is used hard, standin' out late
-nights in the cold an'----”
-
-“Was the Wilkins place sold out ter-day?” said the woman hastily, with
-agonizing impatience to divert his thoughts to something else.
-
-“Yes, it were,” chuckled Silas, handing his cup for more tea, “an'
-they'll have ter move ter Bosting. You was ginning me for bein' mean,
-how'd you like to be turned outer doors? Ef I do say it, there ain't no
-money due on my prop'ty, nor never was.”
-
-“Who air you savin' it fur?” said Maria, quietly. She sat with downcast
-eyes tapping her spoon idly on her saucer; she had eaten nothing.
-
-“Fur myself,” he growled, pushing his chair back. He lit a pipe and
-began to smoke, his feet at the oven door.
-
-Outside it was quite dark, snow and night falling together in a dense
-black pall. Over the lonely roads drifted the snow, and no footfall
-marred it. Through drear, silent forests it sifted, sifted down, clung
-to cheery evergreens, and clasped shining summer trees that had no
-thought for winter woes; it was heaped high over the glazed brooks that
-sang, deep down, songs of summer time and gladness, like happy, good old
-folks whose hearts are ever young and joyous. Over the wide Kennebec, in
-the line of blue the ferry-boat kept open, the flakes dropped, dropped
-and made no blurr, like the cellar builders of temples and palaces,
-the rank and file, the millions of good, unknown dead, unmentioned in
-history or the Bible. The waves seething in the confined path crackled
-the false ice around the edges, leaped upon it in miniature breakers,
-and swirled far underneath with hoarse murmur. In the dark water
-something dark rose and fell with the tide. Was there a human being
-drifting to death in the icy sea? The speck made no outcry; it battled
-nobly with nature's mighty force. Surely and slowly the high wharfs and
-the lights of Bath faded; nearer grew the woods of Corinth, the ferry
-landing and the tavern-keeper's lamp.
-
-“I heered suthin' on the ferry slip,” said a little old man in the
-tavern, holding his hand behind his ear.
-
-“Nawthin', night's too black,” said the tavern-keeper; “you're alius a
-hearin' what no one else do, Beaman.”
-
-No star nor human eye had seen the black speck on the wild water, and no
-hand lent it aid to land.
-
-In ugly silence Silas smoked his pipe, while equally still, Maria washed
-the dishes. She stepped to throw the dish-water outside the door and
-then she heard a sound. The night was so quiet a noise traveled miles.
-What was it, that steady smothered thud up the lane where so seldom a
-stranger came? Was it only the beating of her heart after all? She shut
-the door behind her and hurried out, wrapping her wet cold hands in her
-apron. Suddenly there came a long, joyful neigh!
-
-“How on airth did that critter git home?” cried Silas, jumping to his
-feet.
-
-Nearer, nearer, in a grand gallop, with tense muscles and quivering
-limbs, with upraised head and flying mane, with eager eyes, nearer, in
-great leaps thrusting time and distance far behind, came that apparition
-of the night.
-
-“Oh, my God!” cried the woman wildly, “old Tige has come home--come home
-to this place, and there is one living thing that loves it!”
-
-The light flared out from the open door. “How on airth did he git across
-the river?” said Silas, querulously. “An' how am I goin' to git him back
-in this weather?”
-
-There he stood, the noble old horse that her boy had raised from a colt,
-had ridden, had given to her when he went away. “Mother,” her boy had
-said, “be good to old Tige. If ever father wants to sell him, don't you
-let him. I'd come back from my grave if the old horse was abused--the
-only thing I loved, that loved me in this place I cannot call a home.
-Remember he has been so faithful.”
-
-Ay, he had been faithful, in long, hot summer days, in wide, weary
-fields, in breaking the stony soil for others' harvest, in bringing wood
-from the far forest, in every way of burden and work.
-
-He stood quivering with cold, covered with ice, panting after his wild
-gallop; but he was home, poor brute mind! That old farm was his home: he
-had frolicked in its green fields as a colt, had carried a merryvoiced
-young master, had worked and rested in that old place; he might be
-ill-treated and starved, he did not grieve, he did not question, for it
-was home! He could not understand why this time the old master had not
-taken him away; never before had he been left in Bath. In his brute way
-he reasoned he had been forgotten, and when his chance came, leaped from
-the barn, running as horse never ran before, plunged off the wharf into
-the black waves, swam across and galloped to his home.
-
-“If there is a God in Heaven, that horse shall not go back!” cried the
-woman fiercely; “if you take him from here again it shall be over my
-dead body! Ay, you may well look feared; for thirty years I have frozen
-my heart, even to my own son, and now the end's come. It needed that
-faithful brute to teach me; it needed that one poor creature that loved
-me and this place, to open the flood-gates. Let me pass, and I warn you
-to keep away from me. Women go mad in this lonely, starved life. Ay, you
-are a man, but I am stronger now than you ever were. I've been taught
-all my life to mind men, to be driven by them, and to-night is a rising
-of the weak. Put me in the asylum, as other wives are, but tonight my
-boy's horse shall be treated as never before.”
-
-“But M'ri,” he said, trembling, “there, there now, let me git the
-lantern, you're white as a sheet! We'll keep him if you say so; why
-hadn't you told me afore?”
-
-She flung him aside, lit the lantern and then ran up to an attic chamber
-under the eaves. “M'ri, you hain't goin' to kill yourself?” he quavered,
-waiting at the foot of the stairs. She was back in a moment, her arms
-full of blankets.
-
-“What on airth!”
-
-“Let me alone, Silas Lowell, these were my weddin' blankets. I've saved
-'em thirty years in the cedar chist for this. They was too good for you
-and me; they air too poor fur my boy's horse.”
-
-“But there's a good hoss blanket in the barn.”
-
-“The law don't give you these; it mebbe gives you me, but these is
-mine.”
-
-She flung by him, and he heard the barn door rattle back. He put on his
-coat and went miserably after her, “M'ri, here's yer shawl, you'll git
-yer death.” The barn lit by the lantern revealed two astonished oxen,
-a mild-eyed cow, a line of hens roosting on an old hayrack and Maria
-rubbing the frozen sides of the white horse. “Put yer shawl on, M'ri,
-you'll git yer death.”
-
-“An' you'd lose my work, eh? Leave me, I say, I'm burning up; I never
-will be cold till I'm dead. I can die! there is death 'lowed us poor
-critters, an' coffins to pay fur, and grave lots.”
-
-Silas picked up a piece of flannel and began to rub the horse. In
-ghastly quiet the two worked, the man patching the woman, and looking
-timorously at the axe in the corner. One woman in the neighborhood,
-living on a cross-road where no one ever came, had gone mad and
-jnur-dered her husband, but “M'ri” had always been so clear-headed! Then
-the woman went and began piling hay in the empty stall.
-
-“You ain't goin' to use thet good hay fur beddin,' be ye, M'ri?” asked
-Silas in pathetic anxiety.
-
-“I tell you let me be. Who has a better right to this? His labor cut it
-and hauled it; this is a time when the laborer shall git his hire.”
-
-Silas went on rubbing, listening in painful silence to the click of the
-lock on the grain bin, and the swish of oats being poured into a trough.
-
-“Don't give him too much, M'ri,” he pleaded humbly, “I don't mean ter be
-savin', but he'll eat hisself to death.”
-
-“The first that ever did on this place,” laughed the woman wildly.
-
-Then standing on the milking-stool she piled the blankets on the
-grateful horse, then led him to the stall where she stood and watched
-him eat. “I never see you so free 'round a hoss afore,” said Silas; “you
-used to be skeered of 'em, he might kick ye.”
-
-“He wouldn't because he ain't a man,” she answered shrilly; “it's only
-men that gives blows for kindness!”
-
-“Land of the living!” cried Silas, as a step sounded on the floor, and
-a queer figure came slowly into the glare of light by the lantern, a
-figure that had a Rembrandt effect in the shadow--an old man, lean and
-tall, shrouded in a long coat and bearing on his back a heavy basket.
-
-“You can't be a human creetur, comin' here to-night,” said Maria; “mebbe
-you're the Santy Claus Jim used to tell on as the boys told him; no man
-in his senses would come to Sile Lowell's fur shelter.”
-
-“M'ri's upsot,” said Silas meekly, taking the lantern with trembling
-hand; “I guess you've got off the road; the tavern's two mile down
-toward the river.”
-
-“You've followed the right road,” said Maria; “you've come at a day of
-reck'nin'; everythin' in the house, the best, you shall have.”
-
-She snatched the light from Silas and slammed the barn door, leaving
-Tige contentedly champing his oats, wondering if he was still
-dreaming, and if his wild swim had been a nightmare followed by a vision
-of plenty. In the kitchen Maria filled the stove, lit two lamps and
-began making new tea.
-
-“Thet was a good strong drorin' we hed fur supper, M'ri,” said Silas,
-plaintively, keenly conscious of previous economies; “'pears to me you
-don't need no new.” She paid no heed to him, but set the table with
-the best dishes, the preserves--Silas noted with a groan--and then with
-quick, skillful hand began cutting generous slices of ham.
-
-“I hope you're hungry, sir?” she asked eagerly.
-
-“Wal, I be, marm,” said the stranger; “an' if it ain't no trouble, I'll
-set this ere basket nigh the stove, there's things in it as will spile.
-I be consederable hungry, ain't eat a bite sence yesterd'y.”
-
-Silas's face grew longer and longer; he looked at the hamper hopefully.
-That might contain a peddler's outfit and “M'ri” could get paid that
-way.
-
-“An' I hain't money nor nawthin' to pay fur my vittles 'less there was
-wood-sawin' to be done.”
-
-“Wood's all sawed,” said Silas bitterly.
-
-“I wouldn't take a cent,” went on Maria, with flushed cheeks and
-sparkling eyes. “Ann Kirk thet hed the name of bein' as mean as me, was
-berried to day, and folks that keered nawthin' fur her is a goin' to hev
-her money an' make it fly. They say 'round here no grass will ever grow
-on her grave, fur ev'ry blade will be blarsted by the curses of the
-poor.”
-
-“M'ri, you a perfessed Christian!” cried Silas.
-
-“There's good folks unperfessed,” interposed the stranger; “but I dunno
-but a near Christian is better nor a spendthrift one as fetches up at
-the poorhouse.”
-
-“Right you air!” said Silas, almost affably feeling he had an advocate.
-
-The stranger was tall and bony, with a thin, wrinkled face bronzed by
-wind and weather, with a goatee and mustache of pale brown hair, and a
-sparse growth of the same above a high bald forehead; his eyes were a
-faded brown, too, and curiously wistful in expression. His clothing was
-worn and poor, his hands work-hardened, and he stooped slightly. When
-the meal was ready he drew up to the table, Maria plying him with food.
-
-“Would you rather have coffee?” she asked.
-
-“Now you've got me, marm, but land! tea'll do.”
-
-“I should think it would,” snarled Silas; but his grumbling was silenced
-in the grinding of the coffee mill. When the ap-appetizing odor floated
-from the stove, Silas sniffed it, and his stomach began to yearn. “You
-put in a solid cup full,” he muttered, trying to worry himself into
-refusing it.
-
-“We want a lot,” laughed Maria.
-
-“Set up an' eat,” called the stranger cheerily; “let's make a banquet;
-it's Chrismus Eve!”
-
-“That ham do smell powerful good,” muttered Silas, unconsciously drawing
-his chair up to the table, where the stranger handed him a plate and
-passed the ham. Maria went on frying eggs, as if, thought her husband,
-“they warn't twenty-five cents a dozen,” and then ran down into the
-cellar, returning panting and good-humored with a pan of apples and a
-jug of cider; then into the pantry, bringing a tin box out of which she
-took a cake.
-
-“That's pound cake, M'ri,” cried Silas, aghast, holding his knife and
-fork upraised in mute horror. She went on cutting thick slices, humming
-under her breath.
-
-“Might I, marm,” asked the stranger, pleasantly, “put this slice of ham
-and cake and this cup of milk aside, to eat bymeby?”
-
-“How many meals do you eat in a evening?” growled Silas, awestruck at
-such an appetite; “an' I want you to know this ain't no tavern.”
-
-“Do eat a bite yourself, marm,” said the stranger, as Maria carried the
-filled plate to the cupboard. The impudence of a tramp actually asking
-the mistress of the house to eat her own food, thought Silas. “We've eat
-our supper,” he hurled at the stranger.
-
-“I couldn't tech a mite,” said Maria, beginning to clear up, and as he
-was through eating, the stranger gallantly helped her while Silas smoked
-in speechless rage.
-
-“I'm used to being handy,” explained the tramp. “I allus helped wife.
-She's bin dead these twenty years, leaving me a baby girl that I brought
-up.”
-
-“You was good to her?” asked Maria wistfully; the stranger had such a
-kind voice and gentle ways.
-
-“I done the best I could, marm.” Doubting his senses, Silas saw Maria
-bring out the haircloth rocking-chair with the bead tidy from the best
-front room. “Lemme carry it,” said the tramp politely. “Now set in't
-yerself, marin, an' be comfurble.” He took a wooden chair, tilted it
-back and picked up the cat. Maria, before she sat down, unmindful of
-Silas's bewildered stare, filled one of his pipes with his tobacco.
-
-“I know you smoke, mister,” she smiled.
-
-“Wal, I do,” answered the tramp, whiffing away in great comfort. “'Pears
-to me you're the biggest-hearted woman I ever see.”
-
-She laughed bitterly. “There wan't a cluser woman in Corinth than me,
-an' folks'll tell you so. I turned my own son outer doors.”
-
-“It was part my fault, Mri, an' you hush now,” pleaded Silas, forgiving
-even her giving his tobacco away if she would not bring out that family
-skeleton.
-
-“I've heered you was cluse,” said the stranger, “an' thet you sent Jim
-off because he went to circuses in Bath, an' wore store clothes, an'
-wanted wages to pay for 'em.”
-
-“All true,” said Maria, “an' he wanted to ride the horse, an' was mad at
-workin' him so hard.” She went on then, and told how the old animal had
-come home.
-
-“An' me thinkin' the critter was a speerit,” said the stranger in a
-hushed voice. “Beat's all what a dumb brute knows!”
-
-“I thought mebbe,” went on Maria, twisting her thin fingers, “as Jim
-might be comin' home this time. They says things happens curious when
-folks is goin' ter die----”
-
-“Your good fur a good meny years, M'ri,” said Silas, pitifully.
-
-“There's folks in this wurld,” said the stranger, his kindly face
-growing sad and careworn since the mother's eager words, “that ain't
-men enuff, an' comes to charity to the end----”
-
-“That there be,” assented Silas.
-
-“And as can't bring up their folks comfurble, nor keep 'em well an'
-happy, nor have a home as ain't berried under a mortgage they can't
-never clear off.”
-
-“Ay, there's lots of 'em,” cried Silas, “an' Mis Lowell was a twitting
-me this very night of bein' mean.”
-
-“An' this good home, an' the fields I passed thro', an' the lane where
-the old hoss come a gallopin' up behind me, is paid fur, no mortgage on
-a acre?”
-
-“There never was on the Lowell prop'ty; they'll tell ye thet ennywhere,”
- said Silas.
-
-“We uns in the South, where I come from,” said the stranger, shading
-his face with his bony hand, “ain't never forehanded somehow. My name is
-Dexter Brown, marm, an' I was alius misfortinat. I tell you, marm, one
-day when my creditors come an' took the cotton off my field, thet
-I'd plarnted and weeded and worked over in the brilin' sun, my wife
-says--an' she'd been patient and long-sufferin'--'Dex, I'm tired out;
-jest you bury me in a bit of ground that's paid fur, an' I'll lie in
-peace,' an' she died thet night.”
-
-“Mebbe she never knowed what it were to scrimp an' save, an' do without,
-an never see nawthin', till all the good died in her,” muttered Maria.
-
-“Part o' my debt was wines an' good vittles fur her, marm.”
-
-“I'll warrant!” said Maria quickly, “an' she never wept over the graves
-of her dead children, an' heered their father complainin' of how much
-their sickness hed cost him. Oh, I tell you, there's them that reckons
-human agony by dollars an' cents, an' they're wus'n murderers!”
-
-“M'ri!” cried Silas.
-
-“Mebbe, marm, you are over-worrited ternight,” said the stranger softly;
-“wimmen is all feelin', God bless 'em! an' how yer son loved ye, a
-tellin' of yer bright eyes an' red cheeks----”
-
-She turned to him with fierce eagerness. “He couldn't keer fur me, I
-wan't the kind. I don't mind me of hardly ever kissin' him. I worked
-him hard; I was cross an' stingy. He sed to me, 'There's houses that is
-never homes, mother.' I sneered an' blamed him for his little present.”
- She ran and brought the vase. “I've kept that, Mr. Brown, over twenty
-years, but when he give it to me, bought outer his poor little savin's,
-I scolded him. I never let him hev the boys here to pop corn or make
-candy; it was waste and litter. Oh, I know what he meant; this was never
-a home.”
-
-“But he only spoke kind of ye alius.”
-
-“Did you know Jim? Been gone this ten year, an' never a word.”
-
-Silas, a queer shadow on his face, looked eagerly at Brown.
-
-“I did know him,” slowly and cautiously--“he was a cowboy in Texas, as
-brave as the best.”
-
-“He could ride,” cried Maria, “as part of a horse, an' Tige was the dead
-image of that Washington horse in the pictur, an' Jim used to say thet
-girl there in the blue gown was his girl--the one with the bouquet; an'
-I used to call him silly. I chilled all the fun he hed outer him, an'
-broken-speerited an' white-faced he drifted away from us, as far away as
-them in the graveyard, with the same weary look as they hed in goin'.”
-
-“An' he took keer of much as a hundred cattle,” said Silas; “they has
-thet meny I've heerd, in Texas?”
-
-“They has thousands; they loses hundreds by drought----”
-
-“Wanter know?” cried Silas, his imagination refusing to grasp such awful
-loss.
-
-“Wal, I knowed Jim, an' he got mer-ried----”
-
-“Merried!” from both the old parents. “He did. He says, 'I wunt write
-the home-folks till I'm well off, for mother will worrit an' blame me,
-an' I hain't money, but Minnie an' I love each other, an' are satisfied
-with little.'”
-
-“Minnie,” the mother repeated. “Was she pretty?”
-
-“Woman all over you be, to ask thet, an' she was,” said Brown, sadly;
-“with dark eyes, sorter wistful, an' hair like crinkled sunshine, an'
-a laugh like a merry child, fur trouble slipped off her shoulders like
-water off a duck's back.”
-
-“An' they got prosperous?” asked Silas uneasily.
-
-“They was happy,” said Brown with gentle dignity; “they was alius happy,
-but they lived under a mortgage, an' it was drift from pillar to post,
-an' ups an' downs.
-
-“An' they're poor now,” muttered Silas, visions of Jim and his family to
-support coming to him.
-
-“Hush!” cried Maria. “Tell me, sir, was there children? Oh, the heart
-hunger I've had for the sound of a child's voice, the touch of baby
-hands. You an' me grandpa and grandma, Sile! an', my God! you think of
-money now.”
-
-“Set calm,” pleaded Brown, “for I must hev courage to tell ye all.”
-
-“An' they sent ye to tell us they was comin'?” asked Silas, judging of
-their prosperity from the shabby herald.
-
-“They asked me to come, an' I swore it. There's a queer blight as
-creeps inter our country, which without thet might be like everlasting
-Paradise. Ourn is a land of summer an' flowers, but up here in this
-ice-bound region, the air is like water in runnin' brooks, it puts life
-an' health in ye.”
-
-“There's the blight o' consumption here. We're foreordained to suffer
-all over this airth,” muttered the woman.
-
-“But there it comes in waves of trouble--in awful haste--an' takes all
-at once, an' them that's well flees away and the sick dies alone. So the
-yellow fever come creepin' inter my home, fur Minnie was my child--the
-daughter I'd keered fur; an' fust the baby went from her arms, an' then
-little Silas (arter you, sir). Then Minnie sickened, an' her laugh is
-only an echo in my heart, for she died and was berried, the baby in her
-arms, and Jim was took next--an' he says” (only the ticking of the clock
-sounded now, never so loud before): “'I want you, dad,' (he called me
-dad) 'to go to my old home in Maine. I want you to tell my father I
-named my dead boy for him, and I thought of his frugal, saving life with
-pain, and yet I am proud that his name is respected as that of an honest
-man, whose word is his bond. I'll never go up the old lane again,' says
-Jim, 'nor see mother standing in the door with her bright eyes and red
-cheeks that I used to think was like winter apples. And the old horse,
-she said she'd care for, I won't see him again, nor hear the bells. In
-this land of summer I only long for winter, and dad, if I could hear
-those hoarse old jolly bells I'd die in peace. Queer, ain't it? And I
-remember some rides I took mother; she wan't afraid of the colt, and
-looked so pretty, a white hood over her dark hair. You go, dad, and say
-I was sorry, and I'd planned to come some day prosperous and happy,
-but it's never to be. Tell mother to think of me when she goes a Sunday
-afternoon to the buryin'-ground, as she used to with me, and by those
-little graves I fek her mother's heart beat for me, her living child,
-and I knew, though she said nothing, she cared for me.' He died tell-in'
-me this, marm, an' was berried by my girl, an' I think it was meant kind
-they went together, for both would a pined apart. So I've come all the
-way from Texas, trampin' for weary months, for I was poor, to give you
-Jim's words.”
-
-“Dead! Jim dead!” cried Silas, in a queer, dazed way. “M'ri,”
- querulously, “you alius sed he was so helthy!”
-
-She went to him and laid her hand on his bowed head.
-
-“An' we've saved an' scrimped an' pinched fur strangers, M'ri, fur there
-ain't no Lowell to have the prop'ty, an' I meant it all fur Jim. When he
-was to come back he'd find he was prosperous, an' he'd think how I tried
-to make him so.”
-
-“The Lord don't mean all dark clouds in this life,” said the stranger.
-“Out of that pestilence, that never touched her with its foul breath,
-came a child, with Minnie's face and laugh, but Jim's own eyes--a bit of
-mother an' father.”
-
-The old people were looking at him with painful eagerness, dwelling on
-his every word.
-
-“It was little May; named Maria, but we called her May for she was
-borned three year ago in that month; a tiny wee thing, an' I stood by
-their graves an' I hardened my heart. 'They drove her father out; they
-sha'n't crush her young life,' I said. 'I'll keep her.' But I knowed I
-couldn't. Poverty was grinding me, and with Jim's words directin' me, I
-brought her here.”
-
-“Brought her here!” cried the poor woman.
-
-“Ay! She's a brave little lass, an' I told her to lie quiet in the
-basket till I told her to come out, fur mebbe you wan't kind an' would
-send us both out, but I found your hearts ready fur her----”
-
-With one spring Maria reached the basket and flung open the lid,
-disclosing a tiny child wrapped in a ragged shawl, sleeping peacefully
-in her cramped bed, but with tears on her long lashes, as if the waiting
-had tried her brave little soul.
-
-“Jest as gritty,” said Brown, “an' so good to mind; poor lass!”
-
-Maria lifted her out, and the child woke up, but did not cry at the
-strange face that smiled on her with such pathetic eagerness. “Oh, the
-kitty!” cried May. “I had a kitty once!” That familiar household object
-reconciled her at once. She ate the cake eagerly and drank the milk,
-insisting on feeding the ham to the cat.
-
-“Him looks hungry,” she said.
-
-“We've all been starved!” cried Maria, clasping the child to her heart.
-
-Such a beautiful child, with her merry eyes and laugh and her golden
-curls, a strange blossom from a New England soil, yet part of her
-birthright was the land of flowers and sunshine. Somehow that pathetic
-picture of the past faded when the mother saw a blue and gilt vase in
-the baby's hand--Jim's baby's.
-
-“It's pitty; fank you!” said the little creature. Then she got down to
-show her new dress and her shoes, and made excursions into the pantry,
-opening cupboard doors, but touching nothing, only exclaiming, “Dear me,
-how pitty!” at everything. Then she came back, and at Brown's request,
-with intense gravity, began a Spanish dance she had learned when they
-stopped at San Antonio, from watching the Mexican senoritas. She held
-up her little gown on one side and gravely made her steps while Dexter
-whistled. The fire leaped up and crackled loudly, as if it would join
-her, the cat purred, the tea-kettle sung from the back of the stove,
-and little snowflakes, themselves hurrying, skurrying in a merry dance,
-clung to the win dow-pane and called other little flakes to hasten and
-see such a pretty sight. Maria watched in breathless eagerness, and
-Silas, carried beyond himself, forgetting his scruples, cried out:
-“Wal, ef that don't beat all I ever see! Come here, you little chick!”
- holding out his silver watch.
-
-With a final pirouette she finished with a grave little courtesy, then
-ran to Silas: “Is there birdie in der?” and he caught her up and kissed
-her.
-
-When the old lane is shady in summertime, and golden-rod and daisies
-crowd the way, and raspberries climb the stonewall, and merry squirrels
-chatter and mock the red-breasted robins, and bees go humming through
-the ordorous air, there comes a big white horse that looks like
-Washington's in the picture; and how carefully he walks and bears
-himself, for he brings a little princess who has made the old house
-a home. Such a fairylike little thing, who from her sunshine makes
-everybody bright and happy, and Silas' grim old face is smiling as he
-leads the horse, and Maria, with her basket of berries, is helped over
-the wall by Dexter Brown, who always says he must go but never does,
-for they love him, and he and Silas work harmoniously together. And
-grandma's eyes are brighter than ever and her cheeks as red.
-
-“What comfortable folks they air gittin' to be,” say the neighbors,
-“kinder livin', but I dunno but goin' a berryin' a hull arternoon is
-right down shiftless.”
-
-Winter is over and forever gone from that household on the hill; the
-coming of gracious, smiling spring in a sweet child's presence has made
-eternal sunshine in those ice-bound hearts.
-
-[Illustration: 5359]
-
-[Illustration: 0360]
-
-
-
-
-CYNTHY'S JOE, By Clara Sprague Ross
-
-
-|I DON'T think he'll be sech a fool as to p'int fer home the fust
-thing he does.” The speaker, a young man with a dull, coarse face and
-slouching air, knocked the ashes from a half-smoked cigar with his
-little finger, which was heavily ornamented with a large seal ring, and
-adjusted himself to a more comfortable position.
-
-“I dun'no which p'int o' the compass he'd more naterally turn to,”
- observed another; an elderly man with a stoop in his shoulders, and a
-sharp, thin face that with all its petty shrewdness was not without its
-compensating feature--a large and kindly mouth. The third man in the
-little group was slowly walking back and forth on the platform that ran
-across the station, rolling and unrolling a small red flag which he held
-in his hands. He turned with a contemptuous “umph” to the young man,
-remarking as he did so, “'Tain't mostly fools as goes to prison. Joe
-Atherton prob'ly has as many friends in this section o' the kentry as
-some who hain't been away so much.”
-
-“Joe was a good little boy,” pursued the old station-master; “he wuz
-allers kind to his mother. I never heard a word ag'in him till that city
-swell came down here fer the summer and raised blazes with the boy.”
-
-“If there ain't the Squire!” exclaimed a hitherto silent member; “he's
-the last man as I should jedge would come to the deepo to welcome Joe
-Atherton.”
-
-A stout, florid, pompous individual slowdy mounted the platform steps,
-wiping his forehead with a flaming red silk handkerchief, which he
-had taken from his well-worn straw hat. “Warm afternoon, friends,” he
-suggested, with an air of having vastly contributed to the information
-of the men, whose only apparent concern in life was an anxiety to find a
-shady corner within conversational distance of each other.
-
-The Squire seated himself in the only chair of which the forlorn station
-boasted; he leaned back until his head was conveniently supported, and
-furtively glanced at a large old-fashioned watch which he drew from his
-vest pocket.
-
-“Train's late this a'ternoon, Squar',” said the man with the red flag. “I
-reckon ye'll all hev to go home without seein' the show; 'tain't no ways
-sartin Joe'll come to-day. Parson Mayhew sed his time was up the fust
-week in September, but there's no tellin' the day as I knows on.”
-
-A sustained, heavy rumble sounded in the distance. Each man straightened
-himself and turned his head to catch the first glimpse of the
-approaching engine, With a shriek and only a just perceptible lessening
-of its speed, the mighty train rushed by them without stopping, and was
-out of sight before the eager watchers regained the power of speech.
-
-Five minutes later the red flag was in its place behind the door, its
-keeper turned the key and hastened to overtake his neighbor, who had
-reached the highway. Hearing the hurrying footsteps behind him, the man
-turned, saying triumphantly, “I'm right-down, glad he didn't come.”
-
-“So be I; there's an express late this evenin' that might bring him
-down. I shall be here if Louisy's so as I kin leave her.”
-
-“Wa'al,” returned the other, “I shan't be over ag'in to-night, but you
-jest tell Joe, fer me, to come right ta my house; he's welcome. Whatever
-he done as a boy, he's atoned fer in twenty years. I remember jest how
-white and sot his face was the day they took him away; he was only a boy
-then, he's a man now, gray-headed most likely; the Athertons turned gray
-early, and sorrow and sin are terrible helps to white hair.”
-
-The old man's voice faltered a little; he drew the back of his hard,
-brown hand across his eyes. Something that neither of the men could
-have defined prompted them to shake hands at the “Corners”; they did so
-silently, and without looking up.
-
-Joe came that night. The moon and the stars were the silent and only
-witnesses of the convict's return. It was just as Joe had hoped it might
-be; yet there was in the man's soul an awful sense of his loneliness and
-isolation The eager, wistful light faded out of his large blue eyes, the
-lines about his firm, tightly-drawn mouth deepened, the whole man took
-on an air of sullen defiance. Nobody cared for him, why should he care?
-He wondered if “Uncle Aaron,” as the boys used to call him, still kept
-the old station and signaled the trains. Alas! it was one of “Louisy's”
- bad nights; her husband could not leave her, and so Joe missed forever
-the cordial hand old Aaron would have offered him, and the kind message
-he was to give him, for his neighbor.
-
-Sadly, wearily, Joe turned and walked toward the road, lying white
-and still in the moonlight. His head dropped lower and lower upon his
-breast; without lifting it he put out his hand, at length, and raised
-the latch of a dilapidated gate that opened into a deep, weed-entangled
-yard. His heart was throbbing wildly, a fierce, hot pain shot through
-his eyes. Could he ever look up? He knew the light of the home he was
-seeking had gone out in darkness years before. The only love in the
-world that would have met him without question or reproach was silent
-forever; but here was her home--his home once--the little white house
-with its green blinds and shady porch.
-
-He must look up or his heart would burst. With a cry that rang loud and
-clear on the quiet night, he fell upon his face, his fingers clutching
-and tearing the long, coarse grass. There was no house--no home--only
-a mass of blackened timbers, a pile of ashes, the angle of a tumbling
-wall. Hardly knowing what he did, Joe crept into the shelter of the old
-stone wall. With his face buried in his hands he lived over again, in
-one short half-hour, the life he hoped he had put away when the prison
-doors closed behind him. All through the day there had struggled in his
-heart a faint, unreasoning faith that life might yet hold something fair
-for him; one ray of comfort, one word of kindness, and faith would have
-become a reality. As the man, at last lifted his pale, agonized face to
-the glittering sky above him he uttered no word of prayer or entreaty,
-but with the studied self-control that years of repression had taught
-him, he rose from the ground and walked slowly out of the yard and
-down the cheerless road again to the station. Life hereafter could mean
-nothing to him but a silent moving-on. Whenever or wherever he
-became known, men would shrink and turn away from him. There was no
-abiding-place, no home, no love for him in all God's mighty world. He
-accepted the facts; there was only one relief--somewhere, some time, a
-narrow bed would open for him and the green sod would shelter the man
-and his sin till eternity.
-
-He hastily plucked a bit of golden-rod that nodded by the roadside; then
-taking a small, ragged book from a pocket just over his heart, he opened
-it and put the yellow spray between the leaves. As he did so a bit of
-paper fluttered to the ground. Joe stooped and picked it up. It was a
-letter he had promised to deliver from a fellow-prisoner to his mother
-in a distant town.
-
-Not very far away an engine whistled at a crossing. A slowly moving
-freight and accommodation train pulled up at the depot a few moments
-later. Joe entered the dark, ill-smelling car at the rear and turned his
-face once more to the world.
-
-It was in the early twilight of the next evening that Joe found himself
-in the hurry and confusion of a large manufacturing town. As he passed
-from the great depot into the brilliantly lighted street, he was
-bewildered for a moment and stood irresolute, with his hand shading his
-eyes. At one corner of the park that lay between the station and the
-next street, a man with a Punch-and-Judy theatre had drawn around him a
-crowd of men, women, and children. Joe mechanically directed his steps
-that way, and unconsciously became a part of the swaying, laughing
-audience.
-
-“Hold me up once more, do Mariar, I can't see nothin',” begged a piping,
-childish voice at Joe's knee.
-
-“I can't, Cynthy; my arms is most broke now holdin' of ye; ef you
-don't stop teasin' I'll never take ye nowheres again,” replied a tall,
-handsome girl, to whom the child was clinging.
-
-Joe bent without a word, and picking up the small, ill-shaped morsel of
-human longing and curiosity, swung her upon his broad shoulder, where
-she sat watching the tiny puppets and listening to their shrill cries,
-oblivious of all else in the world. Once she looked down into the man's
-face with her great, dark, fiery eyes and said softly, “Oh, how good you
-are!” A shiver ran through Joe's frame; these were the first words that
-had been addressed to him since he said good-bye to the warden in that
-dreary corridor, which for this one moment had been forgotten. The
-little girl, without turning her eyes from the dancing figures before
-her, put one arm about Joe's neck and nestled a little closer to him.
-Joe could have stood forever. The tall, dark girl, however, had missed
-Cynthy's tiresome pulling at her skirts and the whining voice. She
-looked anxiously about and called “Cynthy! Cynthy! where are you? I'll
-be thankful if ever I gets you back to your grandmother.” The fretful
-words aroused Joe from his happy reverie; he hurriedly placed the child
-on the pavement, and in an instant was lost in the crowd.
-
-He set out upon his quest the following morning and had no difficulty in
-finding the old woman he was seeking. At one of a dozen doors marking as
-many divisions of a long, low tenement building near the river, he had
-knocked, and the door had opened into a small, clean kitchen, where a
-bright fire burned in a tiny stove, and a row of scarlet geraniums
-in pots ornamented the front window. The woman who admitted him he
-recognized at once as the mother of the man in that far-away prison,
-whose last hold-upon love and goodness was the remembrance of the aged,
-wrinkled face so wonderfully like his own. In a corner behind the door
-there stood an old-fashioned trundle-bed. As Joe stepped into the room a
-child, perhaps ten years old, started up from it, exclaiming “That's the
-man, Granny; the man who put me on his shoulder, when Mariar was cross.
-Come in! come in, man,” she urged.
-
-“Be still, Cynthy,” retorted the grandmother, not unkindly, as she
-placed a chair for Joe, who was walking over to the little bed from
-which the child was evidently not able to rise alone. Two frail hands
-were outstretched to him, two great black eyes were raised to his full
-of unspoken gratitude. Joe took the soiled letter from its hiding-place
-and gave it to the woman without a word. She glanced at the scarcely
-legible characters, and went into an adjoining room, her impassive face
-working convulsively.
-
-“What's the matter with Granny, was she crying? I never seen her cry
-before,” said Cynthy. “Granny's had heaps o' trouble. I'm all thet's
-left of ten children and a half-dozen grandchildren. She says I'm the
-poorest of the lot, too, with the big bone thet's grow'd out on my back;
-it aches orful nights, and makes my feet so tired and shaky mornin's.
-Granny's kind o' queer; some days she just sets and looks into the fire
-fer hours without speakin', and it's so still I kin a'most hear my heart
-beat; and I think, and think, and never speak, neither, till Granny
-comes back and leans over me and kisses me; then it's all right ag'in,
-an' Granny makes a cup o' tea an' a bite o' toast and the sun comes in
-the winder, and I forget 'bout the pain, an' go out with Mariar, when
-she'll take me, like I did last night.”
-
-The child's white, pinched features flushed feverishly, her solemn,
-dusky eyes burned like coals. She had been resting her chin in her
-hands, and gazing up into Joe's face with a fascinated intensity.
-She fell back wearily upon the pillows as the door opened, and her
-grandmother returned and put her hand on Joe's shoulder, saying
-brokenly, “You've been very kind.” The little clock on the shelf over
-the kitchen table ticked merrily, and the tea-kettle hummed, as if it
-would drown the ticking, while Joe and Cynthy's grandmother discussed
-and planned for the future.
-
-It was finally settled that Joe should look for work in Danvers, and if
-he found it, his home should be with the old woman and Cynthy. He did
-not try to express the joy that surged over and through his heart, that
-rushed up into his brain, until his head was one mad whirl; but with a
-firm, quick step and a brave, calm look on his strong face, he went out
-to take his place in the busy, struggling world--a man among men.
-
-Two months passed; months of toil, of anxiety, sometimes of fear;
-but Joe was so gladdened and comforted by Cynthy's childish love and
-confidence, that, little by little, he came out of the shadow that had
-threatened to blacken his life, into the sunshine and peace of a homely,
-self-sacrificing existence in “Riverside Row.”
-
-Cynthy's ideas of heaven were very vague, and not always satisfactory,
-even to herself, but she often wondered, since Joe came, if heaven
-ever began here and she was not tasting some of its minor delights. Of
-course, she did not put it in just this way; but Cynthy's heaven was a
-place where children walked and were never tired, where above all things
-they wore pretty clothes and had everything that was denied them on
-earth. Joe had realized so many of the child's wild dreams, had made
-possible so many longed-for or unattainable pleasures, had so brightened
-and changed her weary, painful life, that to Cynthy's eyes there was
-always about his head a halo as in the pictures of Granny's saints;
-goodness, kindness, generosity--love, were for her spelled with three
-letters, and read--Joe. Out of the hard-earned wages the man put into
-Granny's hand every Saturday night, there was always a little
-reserved for Cynthy. Her grandmother sometimes fretted or occasionally
-remonstrated; but Joe was firm. Alas! human life, like the never-resting
-earth, of which it is a part, swings out of the sunlight into the
-shadow, out of the daytime into the darkness through which the moon and
-the stars do not always shine.
-
-One night, a bitter, stormy night in November, he was a little late in
-leaving his work. He had to pass, on his way out of the building, a knot
-of men who were talking in suppressed voices. They did not ask him
-to join them, but the words “prison-scab,” “jail-bird”, fell on his
-ever-alert ear. With a shudder he hurried on.
-
-Granny was stooping over the trundle-bed in a vain attempt to quiet the
-child, who was tossing upon it, in pain and delirium. Cynthy had slipped
-upon a piece of ice a few days before, and now she was never free from
-the torturing, burning pain in her back. Sometimes it was in her head,
-too, and then with shrill, harsh cries, she begged for Joe, until Granny
-thanked God when the factory-whistle blew and she heard the man's quick,
-short step on the pavement. Joe warmed himself at the fire for a moment,
-then taking Cynthy in his tired arms, he walked slowly up and down the
-room. Through the long, dreary night he patiently carried the moaning
-child. If he attempted, never so carefully, to lay her down, she clung
-to him so wildly or cried so wearily that Joe could only soothe her
-and take lip the tiresome march again. Granny, thoroughly worn out, sat
-sleeping in her large chair. Cynthy grew more restless. Once she nearly
-sprang from Joe's arms, screaming, “Go way, Mariar; you're a hateful
-thing! I won't listen; 'tain't true; Joe is good,” and dropping back
-heavily, she whispered, “I love you, Joe.” She knew, then! Joe thought
-his heart would never throb again.
-
-He listened for the early morning whistles. One by one they sounded on
-the clear, keen air, but never the one for which he waited. As soon
-as it was light, he peered through the ice-covered window at the tall
-chimneys just beyond the “Row.” They rose grim and silent, but no smoke
-issued from them. The end had come. Joe knew a strike was on.
-
-Sometime in the afternoon of that day Cynthy suffered herself to be
-placed on the small, white bed; but she was not willing Joe should leave
-her, and was quiet only when he held her feeble hand in his close grasp.
-No sound escaped the man's white lips. Only God and the angels watched
-his struggle with the powers of darkness. As night came on again, Cynthy
-sank into a heavy sleep, and Joe, released, took his hat and went out
-very softly.
-
-He stopped after a long walk at the massive doors of a “West End”
- palace. He followed with downcast eyes the servant who answered his ring
-into a small but elegant reception-room, where he was told he might wait
-for the master of the house, the owner of the large manufactory where he
-was employed. Into the patient ear of this man, whom he had never seen
-before, Joe poured the story of his life. The sin, the shame, the agony
-of despair, his salvation through Cynthy.
-
-“I will call my son,” said the sympathizing old gentleman as Joe rose to
-go; “he is one of Danvers' best physicians. He will go with you and see
-what can be done for the little girl.”
-
-An hour later the two men were bending over the sick child. “She is very
-ill,” said the young doctor, in reply ta Joe's mute, appealing face.
-“This stupor may end in death, or it may result in a sleep which will
-bring relief. You must be brave, my friend. A few hours to-night will
-decide. You may hope.” Joe's weary limbs faltered beneath him. He fell
-upon his knees breathing a wordless prayer that the child might be
-spared to bless and comfort hi& lonely, aching heart; while all unseen
-the Angel of Life hovered over the little bed.
-
-[Illustration: 5372]
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
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-
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rancho Del Muerto, by Charles King and Various
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-
-
-Title: Rancho Del Muerto
-       and Other Stories of Adventure from "Outing" by Various Authors
-
-Author: Charles King
-        Various
-
-Release Date: May 1, 2016 [EBook #51919]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RANCHO DEL MUERTO ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by David Widger from page images generously
-provided by the Internet Archive
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-RANCHO DEL MUERTO
-
-By Charles King, Capt. U. S. Army.
-
-And Other Stories of Adventure by Various Authors
-
-From "Outing" (Illustrated)
-
-The Outing Publishing Company,
-
-New York And London
-
-
-[Illustration: 0001]
-
-
-[Illustration: 0007]
-
-
-
-
-RANCHO DEL MUERTO, By Charles King, Capt. U. S. Army.
-
-
-FIRST PART
-
-[Illustration: 9013]
-
-O denying it--there was something uncanny about the place at the very
-first glance. The paymaster admitted that to himself as his ambulance
-slowly drove in, and his escort of half a dozen troopers came clattering
-after. It was his first visit to the spot, and he shrugged his broad
-shoulders and murmured a word of caution to the silent clerk who sat
-beside him:
-
-[Illustration: 0015]
-
-[Illustration: 0016]
-
-"I want you to keep eyes and ears open here, Staines. We've got to make
-a night of it. You remember that this is where Sergeant Dinsmore was
-murdered, and I've heard nothing but bad accounts of the people for the
-last six months."
-
-Mr. Staines was apparently a man who wasted no words. Acquiescence with
-him may have been expressed by silence. At all events he made no reply.
-
-"Were you ever at the ranch before, when you made the trips with Colonel
-Forte?" asked the paymaster.
-
-"No, sir, it's--all strange to me hereabouts."
-
-"How far are we from Canyon del Muerto now, sergeant?" asked the
-officer of the bearded trooper who rode close alongside.
-
-"Sixteen miles, sir, on a bee line, but at least twenty by the road.
-We're off the direct trail now. We could have got through the canyon and
-reached the camp before this if that mule hadn't gone lame."
-
-"Major," said Staines in a low tone, "I can get a saddle horse or mule
-here, no doubt. Had I not better ride right on? I can reach Captain
-Rawlins' camp by 9 or 10 o'clock. He will be mighty anxious at your
-non-arrival."
-
-"I was thinking of sending one man ahead; I don't like to let you go. It
-will wear you out for to-morrow's work."
-
-"Indeed it won't, sir; I'm feeling fresh enough, and the change from
-wagon to saddle will just suit me. I think I'd better go." And there was
-an eager look in Staines' clear-cut face.
-
-"I'll think about it" was the dubious answer. "These cavalry men are the
-proper ones to send, not a paymaster's clerk. If anything befell you on
-the route I would be crippled in making payments."
-
-"Nothing would be apt to befall me, sir; I know that road well."
-
-"I thought you said all was strange to you hereabouts" said the
-paymaster quickly. But the clerk showed no discomfiture.
-
-"I said here, around the ranch. The direct road lies off there nearly
-nine miles to the southwest, sir. That is the one we always took going
-to Tucson."
-
-The paymaster relapsed into silence. It is all very well to have
-subordinates who know far more than does the senior officer, yet the
-latter does not always find it agreeable. His own clerk having resigned
-some six months previous and returned to the East, when Major Sherrick
-was ordered from San Francisco to Arizona he had employed Mr. Staines at
-the urgent request of the officer whom he relieved. Staines had property
-interests in the Territory, he was told, and wanted to remain. He was a
-man profoundly versed in his duties; accurate, temperate, reliable and
-of unimpeachable character, said his recommenders. Sherrick was glad
-to get him, for he himself had no head for figures, and had been made a
-paymaster from civil life simply because his uncle the Senator found him
-a failure in every other capacity, and demanded the appointment of an
-Executive who could not deny him, though he felt like kicking himself
-when he looked at the long list of grizzled, war-tried captains who were
-wistful applicants for the longed-for promotion.
-
-A tall Mexican stepped forward with much urbanity and grace of manner to
-assist the paymaster to alight as the ambulance stopped in front of the
-ranch, and Major Sherrick looked with emotions of surprise upon Pedro
-Ruiz, the proprietor.
-
-"You don't mean to say that's the scoundrel we heard so much bad
-talk about at headquarters?" he whispered to Staines at the first
-opportunity.
-
-"The very same, sir; the most accomplished cutthroat in Arizona, if we
-can believe our senses and disregard evidence."
-
-"Where are his men? He seems alone here, all but that old greaser
-yonder."
-
-"Dios sabe," answered the clerk briefly, though his eyes glanced quickly
-away toward the purpling range to the south. "But we shall need our
-guards every moment we are here, sir, that's certain." An hour later
-night had settled down upon the broad valley, black and forbidding. All
-day long the wind had been sighing about the corral, whirling clouds of
-dust from the loose, sandy soil and sifting it in through many a chink
-and crevice over the floor of Pedro's ranch. The great ranges to the
-northwest, the Sierras to the south, were whitecapped at their lofty
-summits, but all over the arid miles of surrounding desert the sun had
-been hotly blazing from noon to the dewless eve, and not until it sank
-behind the western wave did the wind sweep down untempered. Through its
-shallow bed the Gila rolled, a lazy, turbid current, not a rifle shot
-away. Quicksands and muddy pools flanked its course for miles and barred
-all attempts at crossing except at the point where thrifty Pedro had
-"corduroyed" the flats with boards that had formerly done duty at the
-agency building, and, having originally cost the paternal Government
-something in the neighborhood of $1 apiece, had now come down to the
-base uses of daily trampling under foot. The stage to the Gripsack
-Mines, the huge ox teams and triple-hitched wagons, the nimble pack
-mules, even the buckboard with the United States mail, paid reluctant
-tribute into Pedro's dingy palm, though the owners mentally damned him
-for a thief.
-
-Everybody in that part of Arizona well knew that in the unprecedented
-rise of the Gila, a few years back, two of the agency storehouses had
-been floated away down the stream, accompanied by a dense flotilla of
-joists, scantling and clapboards, which had been piled up on the river
-bank after weeks of laborious transportation from Plummer's saw mill in
-the San Gabriel. So, too, had sundry casks of bacon, barrels of beans
-and bales of Indian goods; and while portions of this flood-swept
-assortment were found stranded and scattered along the winding shores
-as far down as Pedro's bailiwick, not so much as a solitary shingle had
-passed beyond, and the laws of flotsam and jetsam had received at the
-hands of this shrewd "greaser" their most liberal construction. More
-than once had the Federal authorities been compelled to proceed to
-stringent measures with Pedro and arraign him before a jury of his peers
-on charges of having robbed and defrauded the General Government,
-and more than once with prompt and cheering unanimity had the jury
-pronounced him not guilty, a service which he never failed to requite in
-kind when Garcia, Gomez or Sancho came up for his turn. And now the old
-Mexican was proprietor of a goodly ranch, built mainly of adobe, it is
-true, as were his roomy corrals and storehouses, yet roofed, floored,
-partitioned, doored and menu for either breakfast, dinner or supper, at
-a charge of $1 a head for any and all travelers who sought to appease
-their appetite at his table. He kept a bar, too, and dealt out
-villainous "tanglefoot" and windowed, too, by the unwilling
-contributions wrung from Uncle Sam.
-
-For three years he had furnished bacon, _frijoles_ and fried eggs, the
-unvarying fiery mescal to such stomachs as could stand the onslaught
-and the tax of two bits a thimbleful. He ran a "brace game" of monte
-whenever the packers were drunk or strangers fool enough to play. He was
-a thorough-paced rascal in the opinion of every "gringo" who passed that
-way, and a man of unimpeachable character according to all records
-in the case. He was a "greaser" of whom everything had been said and
-nothing proved; that is, to the satisfaction of an old-time Arizona
-jury. But Mr. Whitlock, the new United States District Attorney, was
-said to be "laying" for Pedro, and between those who knew them both and
-were aware of the possibilities of finding twelve better men and truer
-outside of Maricopa County, bets were even as to the result.
-
-[Illustration: 0021]
-
-"Just let me get that thieving greaser across the line into Yavapai,"
-said a local luminary, "and I'll find a jury that will hang him on
-sight or lynch him on general principles." But Pedro knew better than to
-venture northward along the tempting shores of the Hassayampa. Even the
-chance of collecting a bad debt from a fellow countryman, known to
-be lurking in Wickenburg, failed to lure Pedro thither. He smiled
-suggestively, showing his white teeth and waving aside the blue smoke of
-his cigarrito with sinewy brown hand. "A--Wickenburg is too damn close
-to Yavapai, and Yavapai to 'ell," he remarked. And it had more than once
-been said of Pedro that he spoke English like a native.
-
-"Rancho Ruiz" was the sonorous and pretentious title he had bestowed
-upon the establishment to which the winding Arizona roadway led.
-"Cutthroat Crossing" was what the soldiers and placer miners had called
-this half ferry, half ford of Pedro's ever since the body of young
-Sergeant Dinsmore had been found stranded on a sand bar of the Gila two
-miles below,' his neck and his money belt slashed by the same knife.
-Going into Yuma with well-lined pockets, Dinsmore had been warned to
-make no stay among the gang of monte players always hovering about
-Pedro's. But he had been a bold and successful gambler at Tucson. He
-had nothing but contempt for Mexican bravos and confidence in his own
-prowess as a shot. The card table had attractions he could not well
-resist, but the ranch had still another--Pedro's daughter.
-
-Now it was when he was sent thither with a squad of a dozen troopers,
-hunting up the missing sergeant, that Lieutenant Adriance caught
-sight of this siren of a senorita. She could not have been more than
-seventeen, and her mother would have denied her even that number of
-years. "She is a mere child," protested Senora Dolores, when the subject
-was mentioned. Pedro had moved up from Sonora only a few years before,
-and had lived a while at the old Mexico-Spanish town of Tucson, whither,
-ere long, there came unflattering tales as to the cause of his change
-of residence. He had money, and that in Arizona covered more sins than
-charity. The boundary line lay conveniently near. Extradition was an
-unpracticed art in the days whereof we write. Apaches of the mountains
-and assassins of the mines found equal refuge across the border, and in
-exchange we received such choice spirits as proved too tough for even
-a Mexican town to tolerate. Of such was Pedro; but no one to look at
-Pedro's daughter would have called her a felon's child.
-
-The night that Adriance reached the rancho on the search just mentioned
-he had purposely left his little escort some distance up the Gila, and
-advanced alone to reconnoitre. It was a perfectly still evening, soft
-and starry. The hoofs of his broncho made no sound upon the sandy waste
-of road, and not even the dogs about the corral seemed aware of his
-coming. Adriance had thrice visited the ranch before, when returning
-from scout or pursuit of Apaches, and never once had he been greeted by
-feminine voice about the premises. It was with no little surprise, then,
-that he heard the tinkle of a guitar and the sound of low, soft, girlish
-tones singing a plaintive melody. He had heard many a Mexican ditty,
-and had pronounced the singers twangy, shrill and nasal; but this was
-different. He had come to Rancho Ruiz with every expectation of finding
-evidence of the murder of one of his most valued troopers, and here, on
-the instant of his arrival, was disarmed by a song. East of the ranch
-there stood a little lattice-work structure, something after the manner
-of a summer house, and from thence the sounds proceeded. The lieutenant
-leaped from his horse and strode to the entrance, wondering what
-manner of woman he should find beyond. There was not light enough to
-distinguish either form or feature, but over in the farther corner was
-a shadowy something in white. The song continued but a moment before
-the singer became aware of the equally shadowy form at the entrance, and
-stopped abruptly.
-
-"Leon!" spoke a girlish voice in the Spanish tongue, "you frightened me.
-Is that you?"
-
-"I am Felipe, otherwise Phil. Adriance, of the American Cavalry,
-senorita, and far more surprised than you are at seeing me."
-
-The girl started to her feet as though flight was her first impulse,
-then hesitated. Did not the "Senor Teniente" bar the way in merely
-standing in the entrance?
-
-"Do not be alarmed, I beg of you," implored the young officer, "it is so
-long since I have heard a song in a woman's voice. It is such a surprise
-to hear one now. Do sing for me again. I will have to stand here where I
-can hold my horse."
-
-For a moment she was silent, then: "You have been to the rancho? You
-have seen my father?" she asked at length, her voice tremulous and
-almost inaudible.
-
-"I? No, I have just come; I am alone, and heard your song and forgot
-everything else."
-
-To his surprise she came hurriedly forward out of the dusk, and stood
-close to his side, looking fearfully over toward the night lights at the
-bar, whence the sounds of Mexican voices could be heard.
-
-"Alone? You came here alone? O senor, ride on or ride back. Stay not
-here! Not at the rancho! There are wicked men--not my father; not Pedro
-Ruiz, but--there are others."
-
-"Is this true? Are you Pedro's daughter?" queried the lieutenant,
-evidently far more impressed with this fact than with her tidings. "I
-never knew he had a child like you, and I have been here often and have
-never seen you."
-
-"But I--have seen you, senor, when you were last here, and I saw you,
-too, at the _cuartel_ at Tucson. Do you know--do you remember the day of
-the race?" And her dark eyes were for one instant lifted timidly to his.
-
-"Is this possible?" he exclaimed, seizing her hand as it fell listlessly
-by her side. "Let me see your face. Surely I have heard your voice
-before." But she shrank back, half timid, half capricious.
-
-"I must not; I must go, senor, and you--you must ride away."
-
-And now her eyes glanced half fearfully toward the house, then sought
-his face in genuine anxiety. He had been fumbling in the pocket of his
-hunting shirt, and suddenly drew forth a little silver case. The next
-instant, while he held her wrist firmly with one hand, the brilliant
-flame of an electric match flashed over her face and form.
-
-[Illustration: 0027]
-
-"Oh, senor," she cried, even when bowing her blushing face upon her
-bared arm, "this is madness! Put it out!" Then, like a frightened deer,
-she went bounding to the ranch, but not before he had recognized in her
-the pretty Mexican girl with whom he had thrice danced at the _festa_
-at Tucson and whose name he had vainly sought to learn. Nor did he again
-see her on this visit. Nor did he hear again her voice. Returning with
-his men at dawn, he began the day's investigations and had occasion
-to ask many questions of old Pedro, who promptly answered that he well
-remembered the sergeant and that the sergeant had drunk at his bar; had
-partaken of his cheer; had stabled his horse at the corral; but that,
-after gambling with "los otros," men of whom he, Pedro, knew naught, the
-sergeant had gone on his way. More he could not tell. He shrugged his
-shoulders and protested his ignorance even of the names of the men with
-whom Dinsmore had gambled.
-
-"You enter my house, Senor Teniente. You ask for food, for drink. You
-pay. You go. Ask I you your name--your home? No! Should I demand it of
-any caballero who so come and go?"
-
-And failing in extracting information from the master, Adriance sought
-the hirelings and found them equally reticent. Shrewd frontiersmen and
-campaigners in his little detachment were equally unsuccessful until
-nearly night, when a brace of prospectors rode in and said they saw what
-looked to be a human body over on a sand bar down the Gila. Then Pedro's
-face had turned ashen gray, and one of his henchmen trembled violently.
-
-Poor Dinsmore was given such soldier burial as his comrades could
-devise, and Pedro, of his own accord, and with much reverential gravity
-of mien, had graced the ceremony with his presence.
-
-Every man of the cavalry detachment felt morally certain that Pedro Ruiz
-knew far more than he would tell, but there was no way in which they
-could proceed farther, and civil process was ineffectual in those days
-except in the court of final jurisdiction of which Judge Lynch was sole
-presiding officer.
-
-Adriance rode away with a distinct sense of discomfiture at heart. What
-business had he to feel baffled and chagrined at his failure to see
-that girl again when the original object of his mission had been the
-discovery of Dinsmore's fate? What right had he to wish to speak with
-the daughter of the man whom he believed an accessory to the sergeant's
-murder? "Do not let them know you have seen me" she had whispered ere
-she scurried away to the ranch, and as neither mother nor daughter
-once appeared during the presence of his escort about the corral, there
-seemed no way in which he could open the subject.
-
-Six months passed, during which period he had been sent to Tucson
-on escort duty, and while there had sought and found some well-to-do
-Mexican residents whom he remembered as being friends of the graceful
-girl who had danced so delightfully with him at the _baile_ only the
-year before. From them he learned her name, Isabel, and something of her
-history. And the very next scout down the Gila found him in command and
-eager to go, and this very night, black and forbidding, that had settled
-down on Rancho Ruiz after the arrival of Paymaster Sherrick and his
-train, who should come riding noiselessly through the gloaming but
-Lieutenant Adriance himself, as before, all alone.
-
-Nearing the lights of the rancho and moving at slow and cautious walk,
-his ears alert for every sound, the lieutenant became aware of the fact
-that Roderick, his pet horse, was pricking up his own ears and showing
-vast interest in some mysterious and unseen presence which they were
-steadily approaching. Before he had got within two hundred yards of
-the dim light of the house he caught sight of a lantern or two flitting
-about the corral. Then Roderick quickened his nimble walk and began
-edging off to the right front, where presently, against the low western
-sky, Adriance could distinguish some object like a big covered wagon,
-and plainly heard the pawing and snorting of a horse. Roderick evidently
-wanted to answer, but the lieutenant reined him abruptly to the left,
-and veered away southward.
-
-Just now it was not the society of his fellow men he sought. A woman's
-voice, one woman's at least, would have called him eagerly forward from
-the darkness into the light of her waiting eyes. As it was, he made
-wide circuit, and not until well to the south did he again approach
-the silent walls of the corral. And now the wind, blowing toward him,
-brought with it the sound of voices, and Adriance was suddenly warned
-that someone was here, close at hand. Dismounting, the lieutenant slowly
-led his horse toward the dark barrier before him, but not until he had
-softly traversed the length of the southern wall did he become aware
-of other voices, low toned and eager. Around the corner, on the western
-side, the dark forms of a horseman and someone afoot were dimly defined,
-then a brief conversation became audible:
-
-[Illustration: 0031]
-
-[Illustration: 0019]
-
-"You have no time to lose, Leon. Go softly until you are a mile away,
-then ride like hell.
-
-"I understand, but the money?"
-
-"That shall be yours to-morrow--now skip."
-
-The jingle of a Mexican spur, the soft thud of mustang hoofs upon the
-yielding soil were heard a moment, and the horseman rode slowly away
-southwestward, the broad stiff brim of his sombrero revealed against the
-starry sky; then all was silence. The American, whoever he was, still
-stood there. Adriance felt sure he had heard the voice before. As for
-the horseman--Leon--that was the name he heard her speak the night he
-surprised her in the little summer house. Who was Leon?
-
-[Illustration: 0035]
-
-Presently the American turned and strolled slowly back toward the
-rancho. Slipping Roderick's rein over the post at the angle, the
-lieutenant followed. Keeping close to the wall, the stranger led the
-way, all unconscious of pursuit or observation, yet when he reached the
-next corner, whence could be seen the night lights of the rancho and
-the far-away gleam of the camp fire, out toward the Gila, he stopped and
-peered cautiously around.
-
-Mindful of the evil fame that hung about the premises, Adriance
-halted too and waited. The next moment his heart beat hard. A woman's
-voice--soft, silvery and young--had accosted the stranger. It was
-Isabel's.
-
-"You have sent my brother away again, when he had but just returned. Why
-is this, senor? Whither has he gone?"
-
-"Never mind about Leon, Belita," said the American, soothingly, "he's
-all right. He has simply ridden over to let Captain Rawlins know of our
-mishap."
-
-"It is not true, senor! I heard him speak to my father. It is to Sancho
-and to Manuel he rides, and for no good. To what new crime do you lead
-him? Why are they all gone? Why are we alone here this night? Why----"
-
-"Don't be a fool, girl," said the man curtly, as he took her by the
-wrist. "Come, Leon's gone. Come back to the house."
-
-"He has not gone. He promised me he would not go from me without a word
-to-night. The moment I saw you I knew that trouble would come, and I
-warned him when he returned. You have made him wicked--you Americanos.
-You are all----'
-
-"Oh, yes, all, even Teniente Adriance, Isabel. I heard all about you and
-your affair with him. Have a care!"
-
-"No. He is good. It is not in him to make a gambler and a rover of my
-brother."
-
-"He would make worse of your brother's sister, you fool," the man
-muttered, with brutal emphasis. "Come now, no nonsense with that fellow;
-he's as good as married already, I tell you; he is to be married in two
-months."
-
-"Oh, it is not true!" was the fiery answer. "You lie!" And then, with
-feminine inconsequence, "Who is she? Who does he marry?"
-
-"The Senorita Abert--a lovely girl, too, and rich--in San Francisco."
-
-"Yes, it is a lie, Staines, and you know it!" came in cool and measured
-tones, and Mr. Adriance suddenly stepped from the corner of the wall.
-
-Staines dropped the captive's hand and recoiled a pace or two with a
-stifled exclamation, half amaze, half dismay; then with sudden effort
-strove to recover himself. "Well," he exclaimed, with a nervous laugh;
-"talk of angels and you hear the rustle, etc. Indeed, lieutenant, I
-beg your pardon, though; I was merely joking with our little Mexican
-friend."
-
-"That will do, Mr. Staines; I know a joke when I hear one. Wait here
-a moment, if you please, for I want a word with you. Pardon me for
-startling you, senorita. Will you take my arm?"
-
-The girl was trembling violently. With bowed head and fluttering heart
-she leaned upon the trooper's arm and was slowly led away toward the
-rancho, never seeming to note that the little brown hand that had been
-so firmly taken and drawn within by his was still tightly clasped
-by that cavalry gauntlet. The moment they were out of the earshot of
-Staines the lieutenant bent down.
-
-"It was to see you I came here, Isabel; I had hoped to find you at the
-summer house. Come to me there in ten minutes, will you? I must see you
-before I go. First, though, I have to investigate that fellow Staines."
-
-"Oh, I cannot! I dare not! I slipped away from my room because of Leon.
-They will lead him into trouble again. Indeed, I must go back. I must
-go, Senor Felipe."
-
-"You remember my name, then, little one!" he laughed, delightedly. "I
-have been to Tucson since I saw you that blessed night, and I heard all
-about you."
-
-"Hush, senor! It is my mother who calls. List! Let me go, sefior!"
-for his arm had suddenly stolen about her waist. "Promise you will
-come--promise!"
-
-"I dare not! O Felipe, no!" she cried, for he had with quick impulse
-folded her tightly in his strong embrace and his lips were seeking hers.
-Struggling to avoid them she had hidden her face upon his breast.
-
-"Promise--quick!" he whispered.
-
-"Ah, if I can--yes. Now let me go." His firm hand turned her glowing
-face to his; his eager lips pressed one lingering kiss just at the
-corner of her pretty mouth. She hurled herself from him then and bounded
-into the darkness. An instant more and he heard the latch of the rear
-door click; a stream of light shot out toward the corral and she was
-gone. Then slowly he returned to the corner of the wall, fully expecting
-that Staines had left. To his surprise, there was the clerk composedly
-awaiting him.
-
-"Where have you sent Leon Ruiz?" was the stern question.
-
-"I do not recognize your right to speak to me in that tone, Mr.
-Adriance. If you have nothing else to ask me--good night!"
-
-"By God, sir! I heard your whispered talk with him and I know there is
-mischief afoot," said the lieutenant, as he strode after the retreating
-form. "This thing has got to be explained, and in the major's presence."
-
-Staines halted, and lifting his hat with Castilian grace of manner bowed
-profoundly to the angry officer. "Permit me, sir, to conduct you to
-him."
-
-An hour later, baffled, puzzled, balked in his precious hopes, Mr.
-Adriance returned to the bivouac of his little command. Major Sherrick
-had promptly and fully confirmed the statement of his clerk. It was he
-who told Mr. Staines to employ a ranchman to ride by night to Captain
-Rawlins, and the mysterious caution that surrounded the proceedings was
-explained by the fact that Pedro had refused his permission and that
-Leon had to be bribed to disobey the paternal order. Adriance was
-dissatisfied and suspicious, but what was there left for him to say?
-
-Then he had hastened to the summer house, and waited a whole hour, but
-there came no Isabel. It was nearly 10 o'clock when he turned his horse
-over to the care of the guard in a little clump of cottonwoods near the
-Gila.
-
-"We remain here to-morrow," he briefly told the sergeant. "No need
-to wake the men before 6." With that he went to the little wall tent,
-pitched for his use some yards away.
-
-How long he slumbered Adriance could not tell. Ill at ease as to the
-strange conduct of Staines, he had not slept well. Conscience, too, was
-smiting him. Something in the tones of that girlish voice thrilled and
-quivered through his memory. What right had he even to ask her to meet
-him? What wrong had he not wrought in that one kiss?
-
-Somebody was fumbling at the fastening of the tent flap.
-
-"What is wanted, sergeant?" he quickly hailed.
-
-"Open, quick!" was the low-toned answer. "Come to the door. No, no,
-bring no light," was the breathless caution, as he struck a match.
-
-"Who is this?" he demanded, with strange thrill at heart--something in
-those tones he well knew--yet it could not be. A dim figure in shrouding
-_serape_ was crouching at the front tent pole as he threw open the flap.
-
-"Good God! Isabel!"
-
-"Si---- Yes. Hush, senor, no one must hear, no one must know 'twas I.
-Quick! Wake your men! Saddle! Ride hard till you catch the paymaster!
-Never leave him till you are beyond Canyon del Muerto, and then never
-come to the rancho again--never!"
-
-[Illustration: 5039]
-
-
-SECOND CHAPTER
-
-[Illustration: 0040]
-
-[Illustration: 9040]
-
-HAT off mule of the paymaster's ambulance been a quadruped of wonderful
-recuperative powers. She had gone nearly dead lame all the previous day,
-and now at 5 o'clock on this breezy morning was trotting along as though
-she had never known a twinge in her life. Mr. Staines was apparently
-nonplussed. Acting on his advice, the paymaster had decided to break
-camp soon after 2 o'clock, make coffee, and then start for Rawlins' camp
-at once. He confidently expected to have to drag along at a slow walk,
-and his idea was to get well through the Canyon del Muerto before the
-heat of the day. The unexpected recovery of Jenny, however, enabled
-them to go bowling ahead over the level flat, and at sunrise they were
-already in sight of the northern entrance to the gorge. It was odd how
-early Mr. Staines began to develop lively interest in the condition of
-that mule. First he suggested to the driver that he was going too fast,
-and would bring on that lameness again; but the driver replied that it
-was Jenny herself who was doing most of the pulling. Then Staines became
-fearful lest the cavalry escort should get exhausted by such steady
-trotting, and ventured to say to Major Sherrick that they ought to rein
-up on their account. Sherrick was eager to push ahead, and, like most
-other men not to the manner born, never for a moment thought of such a
-thing as a horse's getting used up by simply carrying a man-at-arms six
-hours at ceaseless trot or lope. However, he knew that Staines was far
-more experienced in such matters than he, and so could not disregard his
-advice.
-
-[Illustration: 8041]
-
-"How is it, sergeant, are we going too fast for you?" he asked.
-
-"Not a bit of it, sir," was the cheery answer.
-
-"We're glad enough to go lively now and rest all day in the shade."
-
-"You see how it is, Staines; they don't want to slack up speed. We'll
-get to Rawlins' in time for breakfast at this rate," and again Staines
-was silent. Presently the team began the ascent of a rolling wave of
-foothill, around which the roadway twisted as only Arizona roadways can,
-and at the crest the driver reined in to give his mules a "breather."
-Staines leaped from the ambulance for a stretch. The troopers promptly
-dismounted and loosened saddle girths.
-
-"Yonder is the mouth of the Canyon, sir," said the sergeant, pointing
-to a rift in the range to the south, now gorgeously lighted up by the
-morning sunshine.
-
-"How long is the defile, sergeant?"
-
-"Not more than four miles, sir--that is, the Canyon itself--but it is
-crooked as a ram's horn, and the approach on the other side is a long,
-winding valley."
-
-"When were you there last?" asked Staines.
-
-"About six months ago, just after Dins-more was murdered."
-
-Staines turned quickly away and strolled back a few yards along the
-road.
-
-"You knew Dinsmore, then?" asked the paymaster.
-
-"I knew him well, sir. We had served together during the war. They said
-he fell in love with a pretty Mexican girl at Tucson, and she would
-not listen to him. Some of the men heard that she was a daughter of old
-Pedro who keeps that ranch, and that it was hoping to see her that he
-went there."
-
-"I know. I remember hearing about it all then," said the paymaster. "Did
-you ever see anything of the man who was said to have killed him?"
-
-"Sonora Bill? No, sir; and I don't know anyone who ever did. He was
-always spoken of as the chief of a gang of cutthroats and stage robbers
-down around Tucson. They used to masquerade as Apaches sometimes--that's
-the way they were never caught. The time they robbed Colonel Wood and
-killed his clerk 'I' troop was scouting not ten miles away, and blessed
-if some of the very gang didn't gallop to Lieutenant Breese and swear
-the Apaches had attacked their camp here in Canyon del Muerto, so that
-when the lieutenant was wanted to chase the thieves his troop couldn't
-be found anywhere--he was 'way up here hunting for Apaches in the
-Maricopa range. The queer thing about that gang was that they always
-knew just when a paymaster's outfit or a Government officer with funds
-would be along. It was those fellows that robbed Major Rounds, the
-quartermaster, and jumped the stage when Lieutenant Spaulding and his
-wife were aboard. She had beautiful diamonds that they were after,
-but the lieutenant fooled them--he had them sent by express two days
-afterward."
-
-Mr. Staines came back toward the ambulance at this moment, took a field
-glass from its case, and retraced his steps along the road some twenty
-yards. Here he adjusted the glass and looked long toward the northeast.
-
-"All ready to start, sir," said the driver.
-
-The major swung himself up to his seat; the troopers quietly "sinched"
-their saddles and mounted, and still the clerk stood there absorbed.
-
-"Come, Staines!" shouted the paymaster, impatiently, "we're waiting for
-you." And still he did not move. The sergeant whirled his horse about
-and clattered back to where he stood.
-
-"Come, sir, the major's waiting." Staines turned abruptly and, silent as
-ever, hurried to the wagon.
-
-"What were you staring at so long?" said the paymaster, pettishly, as
-his assistant clambered in. "I shouted two or three times."
-
-Staines' face was pale, yet there were drops of sweat upon his brow.
-
-"I thought I saw a party of horsemen out there on the flats."
-
-"The devil!" said the paymaster, with sudden interest. "Where? Let me
-look."
-
-"You can't see now, sir. Even the dust cloud is gone. They are behind
-that low ridge some eight or ten miles out there in the valley."
-
-"Go on, driver, it's only cattle from the ranch or something of that
-kind. I didn't know, by the way you looked and spoke, but that it might
-be some of Sonora Bill's gang."
-
-"Hardly, sir; they haven't been heard of for a year, and once away from
-Pedro's we are safe enough anyhow."
-
-Half an hour later the four-mule team was winding slowly up a rocky
-path. On both sides the heights were steep, covered with a thick
-undergrowth of scrub oak and juniper. Here and there rocky cliffs
-jutted out from the hillside and stood like sentinels along the way.
-The sergeant, with one trooper, rode some distance ahead, their carbines
-"advanced" and ready for use, for Edwards was an old campaigner, and,
-though he thought it far from probable that any outlaws would be fools
-enough to attempt to "get away with" a paymaster's bank when he and his
-five men were the guardians and Captain Rawlins with his whole troop
-was but a short distance away, he had learned the lesson of precaution.
-Major Sherrick, with his iron safe under his own seat, grasped a rifle
-in both hands. The driver was whistling softly to himself and glancing
-attentively ahead, for there was a continuous outcrop of boulders all
-along the road. The remaining troopers, four in number, rode close
-behind or alongside the wagon.
-
-Presently they reached a point where, after turning a precipitous ledge
-of rock, glistening in the morning sunshine, they saw before them a
-somewhat steep incline. Here, without a word, Staines swung lightly
-from the vehicle and trudged for a moment alongside; then he stooped to
-adjust his boot lace, and when Sherrick looked back the clerk was coming
-jauntily after them, only a dozen paces in rear. In this order they
-pushed ahead perhaps a hundred yards farther, moving slowly up the
-defile, and Staines could easily have regained his distance, but for
-some reason failed to do so. Suddenly, and for no apparent cause, Jenny
-and her mate shied violently, swerved completely around and were tangled
-up with the wheel team before the driver could use the lash. Even his
-ready blasphemy failed to straighten things out.
-
-"Look out for those rocks up there on the right!" he shouted. "Grab
-their heads, Billy!"
-
-Even as he spoke the rocky walls of the Canyon resounded with the crash
-of a score of firearms. The driver, with a convulsive gasp, toppled
-forward out of his seat, his hand still clinching the reins. One of the
-troopers clapped his hand to his forehead, his reins falling useless
-upon his horse's neck, and reeled in the saddle as his charger whirled
-about and rushed, snorting with fright, down the narrow road. At the
-instant of the firing the sound of a dozen "spats" told where
-the leaden missiles had torn through the stiff canvas cover of the
-ambulance; and Sherrick, with blanched face, leaped from the riddled
-vehicle and plunged heavily forward upon his hands and knees. Two of
-the troopers sprang from their saddles, and, crouching behind a boulder
-across the road, opened fire up the opposite hillside. The sergeant and
-his comrade, bending low over their horses' necks, came thundering back
-down the Canyon, just in time to see the mules whirl about so suddenly
-as to throw the ambulance on its side. The iron safe was hurled into the
-shallow ditch; the wagon bed dragged across the prostrate form of the
-paymaster, rolling him over and over half a dozen times, and then, with
-a wreck of canvas, splinters, chains and traces clattering at their
-heels, the four mules went rattling away down the gorge.
-
-[Illustration: 0047]
-
-"Jump for shelter, men!" shouted Sergeant Edwards, as he dragged the
-senseless form of the major under the great ledge to the right. "Stand
-them off as long as you can! Come out of your holes, you cowardly
-hounds!" he roared, shaking his fist at the smoke-wreathed rocks up the
-heights. "Come out and fight fair! There's only five of us left!"
-
-Here in the road lay the major, bleeding from cuts and bruises, with
-every breath knocked out of his battered body; yonder, his hands
-'clinched in the death agony, the stiffening form of the driver--plucky
-to the last. Twenty yards away down the road, all in a heap, lay one
-poor soldier shot through the head, and now past praying for. One of
-the others was bleeding from a gash along the cheek where a bullet had
-zipped its way, and Edwards shouted in vain for Staines to join them;
-the clerk had disappeared. For full five minutes the desperate combat
-was maintained; the sergeant and his little squad crouching behind the
-nearest rocks and firing whenever head or sombrero showed itself along
-the heights. Then came shots from the rear, and another poor fellow was
-laid low, and Edwards realized, to his despair, that the bandits were on
-every side, and the result only a question of time.
-
-And then--then, there came a thunder of hoof beats, a storm of ringing
-cheers, a rush and whirl of panting, foaming steeds and a score of
-sunburnt, stalwart troopers racing in the lead of a tall young soldier,
-whose voice rang clear above the tumult: "Dismount! Up the rocks, men!
-Lively now!" And, springing from his own steed, leaping catlike from
-rock to rock, Phil Adriance went tearing up the heights, his soldiers at
-his heels. Edwards and his unwounded men seized and held the trembling
-horses; Sherrick feebly crawled to his precious safe and fell across it,
-his arms clasping about his iron charge. For five minutes more there was
-a clamor of shots and shouts, once in a while a wild Mexican shriek
-for mercy, all the tumult gradually receding in the distance, and at
-last--silence. Then two men came down the bluffs, half bearing between
-them the limp form of their young leader. The lieutenant was shot
-through both thighs and was faint from loss of blood.
-
-"Has no one a little whiskey?" asked Corporal Watts.
-
-"Here you are" was the answer. And Mr. Staines, with very white face,
-stepped down from behind the ledge and held out his flask.
-
-A week later the lieutenant lay convalescing at Rawlins' camp. A
-vigorous constitution and the healthful, bracing, open-air life he
-had led for several years, either in the saddle or tramping over the
-mountains, had enabled him to triumph speedily over such minor ills as
-flesh wounds, even though the loss of blood had been very great. The
-young soldier was soon able to give full particulars of his chase, and
-to one man alone, Rawlins, the secret of its inspiration.
-
-Most important had been the results. It was evident to everyone who
-examined the ground--and Rawlins had scoured the range with one platoon
-of his troop that very afternoon after the fight, while his lieutenant,
-Mr. Lane, was chasing the fugitives with another--that a band of at
-least twenty outlaws had been concealed among the rocks of Canyon del
-Muerto for two or three days, evidently for the purpose of waylaying
-the escort of the paymaster when he came along. Their horses had been
-concealed half a mile away in a deep ravine, and it was in trying to
-escape to them that they had sustained their losses. Five of their
-number were shot down in full flight by Adri-ance's men, and, could they
-have caught the others, no quarter would have been given, for the men
-were infuriated by the sight of the havoc the robbers had wrought, and
-by the shooting of their favorite officer.
-
-[Illustration: 0052]
-
-No papers had been found on the bodies; nothing, in fact, to identify
-them with any band. All, with one exception, were Mexicans; he was a
-white man whom none of the troopers could identify, though Corporal
-Watts, of Troop B, declared he had seen him at "Cutthroat Crossing" the
-last time he went through there on escort duty. The others, whoever they
-were, rode in a body until they got around the range to the southward,
-then seemed to scatter over the face of the earth. Some odd things had
-transpired, over which Rawlins pondered not a little. It was Corporal
-Watts who brought to his camp at 11 o'clock the news of the desperate
-attempt to murder and rob the paymaster, and as they rode back together
-the corporal gave the captain such information as lay in his power.
-Lieutenant Adriance had "routed out" the detachment just at daybreak,
-when it was still dark, and saddling with the utmost haste had led away
-across country for the canyon, leaving the pack mules and a small guard
-at camp. "We rode like the wind," said Watts, "after the first few
-miles, and every man seemed to know just what to expect when at last we
-struck the road and saw the trail of the ambulance and escort. We got
-there just in the nick of time."
-
-When Sherrick--who though severely battered and bruised had no bones
-broken--was able to talk at all, he never could say enough in praise of
-Adriance and his men; but what he wanted to know was how they came to
-learn of the threatened danger. Captain Rawlins protested that it was
-"past finding out." The major questioned the men, but without
-success, and as for Staines, it was remarked that his pertinacity in
-cross-examination was simply wonderful. For some reason, however, the
-men of B troop did not like the fellow and would have little to do with
-him. But up to the time that Major Sherrick was able to push ahead for
-Tucson it is certain that he had discovered nothing as to the source of
-the lieutenant's information; neither had they heard of Leon Ruiz, the
-night messenger. Staines opined that he must have been intercepted by
-the bandits, perhaps killed by them, when it was found that he was the
-bearer of a message to Captain Rawlins. After a brief chat with the
-lieutenant himself, one which the doctor did not interdict, the old
-troop commander sent a trusty sergeant with six men to scout the
-neighborhood of the rancho.
-
-Lieutenant Lane was detached to take command of Adriance's troop,
-which was sent on its way forthwith, leaving the gloomy rancho alone to
-sentinel the Gila crossing. But the moment Sherrick and his silent clerk
-drove on toward Tucson the old captain said a few words of farewell to
-the invalid, left him in the doctor's charge and rode away northward
-on the trail of his sergeant. That night he rapped for admission and
-ordered supper at Rancho Ruiz, while his men, strolling about the
-premises, took careful note of the three or four scowling "greasers" who
-infested the corral.
-
-Adriance was sitting up and beginning to hobble around when Rawlins
-returned to camp during the week that followed, and was all eagerness
-to hear what tidings the captain had to tell. But Rawlins had little to
-say; he had seen Pedro and had had one glimpse of Senora Dolores,
-but not so much as a word with the senorita; she was kept carefully
-concealed. Within the month Adriance was quite well enough to travel to
-his station, but refused. He would remain here, he said, until able to
-relieve Lane of the command of his troop and continue the scouting work.
-He did not wish to go to the fort. Sherrick and his clerk had come back
-in the course of a fortnight, and Mr. Staines asked to see Lieutenant
-Adriance, but that gentleman refused--a matter which caused the clerk
-to "bite his lips and look queer," reported the soldier who took the
-message, but he said nothing at all.
-
-Ten days afterward a Prescott paper mentioned the fact that Mr. Albert
-G. Staines, so long and favorably known in this Territory, had dropped
-in to look over valuable mining properties in the Big Bug and Hassayampa
-districts; and this Rawlins silently showed to Adriance.
-
-"Then you may be sure he'll come down to the rancho, and in less than no
-time," said Adriance, "and I must go." Rawlins made no reply at first,
-then he rose and nervously paced the floor a moment and turned upon his
-junior.
-
-"Philip, I say no!"
-
-The color mounted to the lieutenant's
-
-"Why not?"
-
-"Ask yourself; ask your conscience, Adriance. You have told her that he,
-Staines, was a liar. You have virtually told her that you were engaged
-to no woman. You have inspired a sentiment, perhaps a passion, in that
-young girl's heart, and you're going there to defend her--a thing that I
-can do much better than you, now that you are a cripple. Then, think, my
-boy, I have known you six years; I have never known you to say or do a
-mean or unmanly thing. I'm an old fogy--an old fool perhaps--but I
-like to think most women pure and some men honest. You are one of them,
-Phil." There was a moment's silence.
-
-"And yet you think I mean her harm."
-
-"Not yet, Philip, but would you marry that old scoundrel's daughter?"
-
-Adriance had no answer.
-
-"Philip, if you look into that girl's eyes again, unless it be to ask
-her to be your wife, I shall lose my faith in manly honor."
-
-Two days afterward Rawlins rode away on duty. A strange unrest had
-possessed the lieutenant since that brief talk with this old Puritan of
-a captain. Not another word had been said upon the subject, but every
-syllable that Rawlins spoke had struck home. Adriance respected
-and honored the grim, duty-loving troop commander whom some of the
-youngsters openly laughed at and referred to as "Praise the Lord
-Barebones" and "Captain Roundhead," but the lieutenant well knew that no
-braver soldier, no "squar-er" captain drew sabre in the whole regiment
-than this faithful friend, who had long since singled him out for many
-an unusual kindness. He knew more--that in his high standard of honor
-and rectitude old Rawlins had said nothing which was not just and true.
-
-Adriance knew well that he ought not to again seek that young girl's
-presence, and the blood rushed hotly to his cheek as he recalled the
-kiss his eager lips had stolen. Marry that old scoundrel's daughter? No,
-he could not; and yet how his pulses bounded at the thought of her--the
-sweet, shy gladness in her eyes, the soft, thrilling tones in her voice
-when she spoke his name, the heroism of her conduct in daring to
-seek his camp in the darkness of night and bring him warning of that
-diabolical scheme of robbery and murder; the refinement of her manner,
-and then, too, her knowledge of the English tongue. Where had she
-acquired these? What would she not be justified in thinking of him if he
-never came to seek and thank her?
-
-"Hello! what's that?" was the sudden cry among the men. Two or three
-soldiers sat up in the shade and curiously inspected the coming object;
-others shouted laughing challenge. Riding solemnly forward, a little
-Mexican boy came straight to where Adriance was lying and handed him a
-note which he eagerly opened and read:
-
-_They suspect me, and they send me away tomorrow. To-night I go for the
-last time to the summer house alone. Isabel._
-
-Gone was every resolution at the instant; gone all hesitancy. Adriance
-had not even time to wonder at the fact that she had written to him in
-English. Leaving the note for Rawlins to read when he returned, in one
-hour Phil was rolling from the camp in the ambulance. Soon after dark,
-leaving Private Regan and another man half a mile back from the walls
-of the corral, Mr. Adriance, all alone, slowly made his way afoot toward
-the dim lights at the rancho. Making wide circuit so as not to alarm the
-dogs, he never sought to draw near the little summer house until, from
-the east, he could see the brighter lights that gleamed in the bar and
-card room. Then he cautiously approached, his heart beating quickly and
-his knees trembling a little, perhaps from weakness. Hark! Faint, soft
-and clear, there rose upon the evening air the liquid notes of a guitar.
-It was she then--it was Isabel awaiting his coming, aye, signaling
-softly to call him to her. What could it mean but that she loved and
-longed to see him? A moment more and he was at the doorway, the
-very spot where he had surprised her that well-remembered night. The
-plaintive tinkle of the guitar continued, and there in the dark corner
-was the dim, white-robed form. He could almost distinguish the folds of
-the graceful _rebosa_.
-
-"Isabel!" he whispered. Three more steps and he would be at her side.
-Suddenly two stalwart arms were thrown about him, a broad hand was on
-his mouth, stifling the utterance of a sound; the white-robed form in
-front leaped toward him, the _rebosa_ falling to the ground. It was a
-man's voice--a Mexican's--that hissed the word's: "Quick! the pistol."
-Another hand was at his holster. He realized instantly that he was
-lured, trapped; that his life was threatened. He was struggling
-violently, but, weakened by his wound, even his superb physique was well
-nigh powerless in the grasp of two or three men. Suddenly there came
-a whisper: "The sponge, the sponge!" and then the subtle odor of
-chloroform on the night air. And now he nerved himself for one supreme
-effort. A quick twist of his head and the hand was dislodged, a finger
-slipping between his teeth. With all his strength he crushed it to the
-very bone, and there was a yell of pain and terror. Then his own brave
-young voice rang out in one startling, rallying cry.
-
-"Help! Regan, help!" Then crash and blows, the gleam of a knife, a
-rolling, rough-and-tumble struggle on the ground; then a woman's scream,
-a light, and Isabel had bounded into their midst, her mother at her
-back.
-
-"Leon, my brother! In God's name, what do you mean?"
-
-Even as she spoke her startled eyes fell on Adriance, staggering to his
-feet, pale, bleeding, faint. Another instant and he went crashing back
-against the guitar that, like siren's song, had lured him. One brave
-leap and she was at his side, her arms about his neck, his pallid face
-pillowed on her bosom.
-
-Senora Dolores flew to her aid; then turning, holding her lantern on
-high, her shrill voice rang out in fury:
-
-"Look at the monstrous work your son has wrought, Pedro Ruiz! Look! Tear
-off that mantle, senor!" she said, whirling upon another form now slowly
-rising from the earth. "Coward! murderer that you are! It is you who
-have ruined this boy and made him what he is!"
-
-"Hush! You fool! there lies your daughter's betrayer. Leon would have
-been coward indeed if he had not punished him."
-
-"Oh, you lie! She never saw him alone in her life!"
-
-"Ask your son," was the sneering answer. "Ask Jos�, too."
-
-"She was with him--in his tent--the last night he was here; I swear it!"
-cried Jos�.
-
-"Mother," cried the girl, "listen, it was but to warn him--I heard the
-plot--I heard all. I rushed to him only to tell him of the danger.
-Mother, believe me. And I dare not tell it even to you, for fear--for
-fear of him." And she pointed to the fierce, scowling face of the old
-Mexican, now striding forward, knife in hand.
-
-"No, Pedro--back! You shall not harm her! No!" and the mother hurled
-herself before her husband.
-
-"Out of the way!" was the hissing answer, "or you, too, feel my knife.
-Ah, traitress!"
-
-"O my God! help! There will be murder here! Pedro, husband! O, villain,
-she is not your child! You shall not kill!" And then a piercing shriek
-rang out upon the night. But at the same instant there came the rush of
-hoofs without--a rush of panting men; a brawny trooper sprang into
-the summer house and with one blow of his revolver butt sent Pedro
-staggering into a corner, his knife falling from his nerveless hand. A
-dark, agile figure leaped for the doorway, with muttered curse. And then
-in came old Rawlins, somewhat "blown," but preternaturally cool, and the
-doctor close behind.
-
-"Bring another light here, one of you men!" And a trooper ran to the
-card room. "Lie still there, Pedro! Blow his brains out if he moves!
-Doctor, you look to the women and Adriance. Now, where's that man
-Staines?"
-
-"Some fellow ran in through here, captain," said a trooper. "Corporal
-Watts is after him with Royce."
-
-"Who was it, you greaser? Speak, damn you! You were here with him!"
-
-"Sonora Bill," said Jos�, shaking from head to foot.
-
-Then there came the sound of pistol shots out toward the corral, and
-then the louder bang of a cavalry carbine.
-
-"What is it?" asked Rawlins of a soldier who came running back.
-
-[Illustration: 0061]
-
-"Can we have the doctor, sir? It was Mr. Staines. He shot the corporal,
-who was chasing him, but he got a carbine bullet through the heart."
-
-Four days afterward, lying in a little white room, Mr. Adriance listened
-to the story of Leon's confession. It was brief enough. Staines had
-acquired an ascendency over him in Tucson, and it was not difficult to
-induce him to become a confederate in every plot. It was Staines
-who sent him to Manuel and Garcia to warn them that the paymaster's
-ambulance would not reach Canyon del Muerto until morning. It was
-Staines who murdered Sergeant Dinsmore after a quarrel and then had had
-his throat cut and the body thrown into the Gila near the ranch. Staines
-had fallen in love with Isabel when she first came from Sonora, but the
-girl shrank from him; neither would she listen to Sergeant Dinsmore.
-
-After it was safe for Leon to return to the ranch, he found that his
-mother and Isabel were practically prisoners. His father was furious at
-the failure of the plan, and daily accused his wife of having, in some
-way, given warning to Adriance, and swore that he would have the blood
-of the man or woman who had betrayed the scheme; and then Staines
-himself came back and wrung from Jos� that he had seen Isabel scurrying
-from Adri-ance's tent at daybreak, and so denounced her to Leon as the
-mistress of an accursed Gringo. Staines wrote the note that was to lure
-Adriance to the bower, where Leon was to take the guitar and _rebosa_
-and the two, with Jos�'s help, were to overpower him. It was his life or
-theirs said Staines. Pedro was not in the project, for he had prohibited
-bloodshed about the place--"It would ruin his business" he said. But
-both Pedro and Leon were now in irons, and Rawlins' troop was in camp
-around gloomy old Rancho Ruiz.
-
-[Illustration: 0063]
-
-A day or two later he heard another story, this time from the lips of
-Senora Dolores herself: Isabel was not the daughter of Pedro Ruiz.
-
-With sobs and tears the poor, broken woman told her tale. She had
-been married when quite a young girl to Senor Moreno, an officer of
-distinction in the Mexican army. Her brave husband made her life a happy
-one, and the birth of the little daughter strengthened the ties
-that bound them. Alas! Moreno, colonel of lancers, was killed before
-Queretaro; and in two years more the widow, with her winsome little
-girl, had not where to lay her head. It was in the city of Mexico that
-Senora Dolores then met Ruiz, a widower with an only son, prosperous and
-apparently respected. He promised to educate Isabel and provide for her
-as his own, and sought the widow as his wife. For a time all went well;
-then she learned his true character. He was compelled to leave the
-city and flee up the coast to Mazatlan, while she remained with little
-Isabel, who was being educated at the convent. At last they had to join
-him at Hermosillo, whence he was soon after driven to Tucson. Their
-lives were wrecked by his scoundrelism. Her papers clearly established
-the truth of her story.
-
-One soft, still evening, not a week after the tragic events of that
-rueful night, Captain Rawlins sat by the lieutenant's side, reading
-aloud some letters just received from department headquarters. Major
-Sherrick had been in a state of dismay ever since the news of the death
-of Staines had reached him, but his dismay changed to wonderment, even
-gratitude, as he learned the true character of the man. It was Sonora
-Bill himself, beyond doubt.
-
-"What a blessing you left that note for me to see!" said Rawlins. "How
-came it you never saw it was a forgery, Phil? Had she never written to
-you before?"
-
-"Never a line, nor have I seen her to thank her. By Heaven, Rawlins! why
-am I forbidden?"
-
-"You are not--now, Phil," was the smiling answer.
-
-Perhaps an hour later, Adriance limped slowly out of the room and down
-the narrow passageway to the side door. Yonder stood the little summer
-house "in the gloaming," and he was right--he had heard women's voices
-there--Dolores and her daughter. There were tears in the maiden's words,
-and he could not withstand the longing of his heart. He would have
-hobbled thither, but suddenly there came the sound of rustling skirt
-and a tiny footfall. It was she--his dark-eyed, dark-haired sweetheart,
-hastening toward him, her face hidden in her hands. One instant more and
-he had torn the hands away and had clasped her to his breast.
-
-"Isabel! darling! I have found you at last! No, you shall not go--you
-shall not until you promise--promise to be my wife!
-
-"O, senor, you cannot--you do not mean it," she sobbed, Struggling to be
-free.
-
-"Do not mean it! Why, sweet one, you do not dream how I love you--how I
-long for you! Not mean it? Isabel, look in my eyes. Look for yourself."
-He laughed low and happily. He was brimming over with hope and gladness,
-for now at last without a struggle she nestled on his heart.
-
-Despite his grizzled beard old Rawlins was best man when that strange,
-very quiet, yet very happy wedding came off in the Old Mission Church at
-Tucson early in the spring. Pedro was not there to give the bride away.
-With considerable escort and much reluctance he had traversed "Cutthroat
-Crossing" some months before. He went to Yavapai, and Yavapai--we have
-his own words for it--was "too damn close to 'ell." The rancho passed
-within the year to other hands. It, too, had taken on another name--a
-grewsome one--_Rancho del Muerto_.
-
-
-
-
-A MIGHTY HUNTER BEFORE THE LORD, By Virginius Dabney.
-
-
-[Illustration: 0066]
-
-
-FIRST PART
-
-
-|THE man unacquainted with the joys of the chase would be surprised if
-told, as he sauntered through some city market, that there was far more
-pleasure in hunting those plump little brown birds hanging in bunches
-around the stalls than in pursuing that imposing beast whose antlers
-reach the pavement. Yet it would be true.
-
-Deer hunting under its usual conditions leaves something, often much, to
-be desired. If a dozen men are placed on isolated "stands" the solitary
-hours of waiting are long and weary. And should you happen to be a tyro
-the knowing ones hide you away in some unlikely spot, where hardly
-by any possibility will the chance come to you of seeing and, in the
-shivers of "buck ague," missing the game. "Still hunting," another mode,
-is well named. As a rule it may be depended upon to afford no end of
-stillness, and little else. And to be rowed up by a hired guide on a
-lake to within a few feet of a poor, helpless buck, swimming for dear
-life, and blow out his brains is almost as bad as shooting pheasants in
-an English preserve or poultry in a barnyard. Under all these methods
-deer hunting lacks what is the conspicuous charm of partridge (quail)
-shooting--vivid and continuous excitement.
-
-For, from the moment when you enter, on a sparkling autumn morning, a
-brown stubble field, fresh of limb and eager for the fray, till you limp
-back at sunset, wolfish for dinner, and broken with a delicious fatigue,
-you have not had one dull moment. You may not have been firing steadily;
-the birds may even have been a little scarce; but every instant of the
-day, as you have watched your dogs sweeping to and fro, you have been
-buoyed up by an ever lively hope that the next moment your heart will be
-gladdened by seeing them halt--frozen as it were--in their tracks. Ah,
-there they are! You hurry up, you and your friend, breathing short. Up
-bursts the brown covey, with startling buzz! You bang away--innocuously
-it may be, but no matter, you have made a prodigious noise, at any
-rate--that's some comfort. And see now! The little brown balls have
-dropped into the weeds, one here, one there, along the ditch, and a
-little bunch, all together, in that clump of briars on the hillside.
-Better luck next time!
-
-Still, after all, "Bob White," for all his bustle, is but a small chap.
-It would take hundreds, nay, bushels of him, to outweigh one "antlered
-monarch." Toothsome though he be (on toast) he tips the scales at a
-beggarly half pound. On the other hand, it often takes you a week or so
-to get one chance at a deer.
-
-Now, it so happens that it was once my fortune to take part in a deer
-hunt, where the excitement was as continuous as that in a stubble field,
-and, naturally, far more intense. This was years ago, and in Scott
-County, Mississippi, two days' journey on horseback from our plantation.
-
-Every November, as a child, I had eagerly hailed the return from the
-camp hunt of the big four-mule wagon, laden with tents, cooking utensils
-and provisions, and upon which were piled high the noble bucks and sleek
-does. At last, when I had reached the age of sixteen, the longed-for
-permission was granted me, and one crisp, frosty morning my father and I
-mounted our horses and set out for Scott County, followed by Beverly and
-the great covered wagon. Both Beverly and Ned, his whitish-gray saddle
-mule, had their peculiarities, as will appear later.
-
-As we journeyed on we were joined at successive cross roads by others
-of our hunting party, and when we reached the ground we numbered, with
-those already arrived by other routes, about fifteen. The tents were
-soon pitched and a roaring fire of logs six feet long was sending up
-its merry sparks into the starry vault above us. Would supper never be
-ready?
-
-Meanwhile the tents flashed in the fire light, the ruddy glow of which
-battled with the hosts of darkness that advanced upon us under cover
-of the primeval, mysterious forest that surrounded us far and wide. And
-that forest teeming with deer and wolves. Oh, how delightful! And
-my Latin grammar miles and miles away! And dust accumulating on my
-arithmetic!
-
-"Why, where is Billy?"
-
-"Detained by business; he will join us in a day or two."
-
-"Good! A hunt without Billy Blount is no hunt at all."
-
-At the mere mention of his name every eye brightened. Mr. Blount had
-more than one peculiarity, all of them pleasant. He was just one of
-those mortals whom mothers in their fatuity christen William. If ever
-there was a man born with an inalienable right to be called Billy it was
-he. A stranger meeting him in the road would know by intuition that that
-was his name. His twinkling eye suggested it. His ruddy brown dimpled
-cheek, his breadth of smile proclaimed it, and when he laughed every
-well-lined rib shouted aloud, "Our name is Billy!"
-
-But he was not with us; so the next best thing was to tell stories of
-his exploits. To these I listened with wide-eyed delight. I will give
-one as a sample. But that it may be understood, it will be necessary
-to show beforehand the very unusual method of hunting that obtained in
-Scott County.
-
-That portion of Mississippi was in those days almost uninhabited and was
-covered by a forest--it would be almost correct to call it a grove--of
-post oaks, beneath which grew waist high underbrush. The oaks which
-covered the ground almost to the exclusion of other trees stood so far
-apart that one had an outlook of perhaps a couple of hundred yards in
-every direction, so that a good rider could gallop in comfort along the
-open spaces. This tree bears a small but sweet nutritious acorn; hence
-the great store of deer that frequented these forests.
-
-Such being the nature of the ground the chase is conducted as follows:
-The hunters throw themselves into a skirmish line at intervals of sixty
-or eighty yards. In the centre rides the leader of the hunt with a
-compass fixed upon the pommel of his saddle. The line advances through
-the woods due north, let us say, for a few hours; then wheels at right
-angle and moves east; then south, then west--back to camp, venison
-steaks and wild turkey; for, in the interests of better fare, it was
-permitted to knock over a gobbler if he were too hospitably saucy to
-get out of the way. The deer were not equally abundant year after year.
-Occasionally it was found that "black tongue" had worked havoc among
-them since the preceding hunt. But they were always numerous enough to
-maintain a continuous and intense glow of expectation in the breast of
-every hunter. As a rule you rode straight ahead, swerving neither to the
-right nor the left, every nerve on the alert, from sunrise till' sunset.
-But if you saw a little out of your path an upturned tree you bent your
-course toward it, your heart in your mouth. I have known as many as
-seven deer to bound forth from the brown-leaved "lap" of one fallen oak.
-But at any moment during the day you were liable to be startled by a
-buck springing up out of the undergrowth, often from beneath the very
-feet of your horse.
-
-Only an inexperienced hunter would ask: "Why not shoot them where they
-lie?" You do not know they are there. The detective eye that can make
-out the form of a deer crouched down on a bed of brown leaves and veiled
-with a fringe of underbrush is given to few. Among these favored ones
-was our friend Billy. It was generally believed in camp that he shot
-most of his game in their beds. Billy himself was at no pains, of
-course, to spread this view. In his highly-illustrated accounts of his
-achievements the quarry was always going like the wind; he had not been
-sure, in fact, what he fired at; he saw a brown flash, that was all;
-banged away, and down came that thumping buck. Never was so surprised in
-his life; thought it was a hawk or something. But this is the story of
-Mr. Jennings, brother of the leader of the hunt: "Blount rides on my
-right, and I don't know how I shall get on without him, even for a day
-or two. However, I may live longer if he is not there, for he sows his
-buckshot broadcast. Three years ago--I never knew the deer so thick as
-they were that season--happening to look in his direction, I saw him
-dismounting with an agility that was surprising considering his 225
-pounds. He halted me with an eager wave of his hand and began advancing
-on tiptoe; every fibre of his vast form tense, his eyes riveted upon
-some object in front, finger on trigger. Barely had he crept forward
-ten yards when up sprang a buck hardly twenty feet in front of him
-and darted to the rear, between Blount and me. Instantly, without once
-removing his eyes from the game upon which he was stealing, he whirled
-his gun to the right and pulled the trigger. The buck passed on, while
-twigs and bark rained on me from the whizzing buckshot. Would you
-believe it?--but you all know him--not a moment did he halt or once
-remove his eyes from whatever it was that had fascinated his gaze in
-front. He still danced forward, light as an Indian, with eyes starting
-from their sockets. Presently up jumps a doe. She, too, bounded to the
-rear, but on Blount's left this time. Again, with his staring eyes
-still glued to the something in front--bang! 'What in the ------ are
-you about?' roared Parrish from Blount's left; 'you will be shooting
-somebody the first thing you know. Here is one of your crazy shot
-through my hat.' To all which our wild man paid not the least attention.
-'Jennings! Jennings! come here! come here! come here! quick! quick!
-quick! For God's sake, man, hurry!'
-
-"I dismounted and ran up to him. 'There! there! give it to him! Good
-Lord, man, can't you see him? There, in that lap!' I strained my eyes
-in vain. I could see nothing. 'Why, don't you see him turning his head?
-He is looking at us! My Lord, Jennings, gimme the gun! gimme the gun!
-gimme the gun!' Just as I did so a noble buck sprang from the lap and
-bounded off. Blount drew down upon him. Bound after bound, and still
-Blount did not fire, though he seemed to be pulling away for dear life
-at the triggers. Presently the deer, passing behind a clump of trees,
-disappeared. I carried my gun at half cock. This Blount did not know or
-remember. He bent both my triggers. Any other man might very well have
-bagged all three deer with such a chance. And what do you suppose he
-then said? 'At any rate, I laid out two of the rascals. Come, Jennings,
-help me find 'em.'"
-
-Dogs were not used on these hunts. Two or three trusty old hounds, it is
-true, hung about the heels of our leader's horse, but they were employed
-only in running down badly-wounded animals. For the first day or so
-these dogs were hard to control, so rich was the scent that met their
-nostrils at every turn; but after the third day they grew too _blas�_ to
-take any interest in any trail not sprinkled with blood. We had a number
-of horn signals. If a gun was heard, followed by a long blast (every man
-wore a horn), the line halted. A deer had been killed in its tracks.
-A second blast indicated that the quarry had been strapped behind the
-saddle of the lucky man; and once more the line moved forward. But if
-three or four short, excited toots, mingled with shouts, rang out upon
-the frosty air, a wounded deer was being pursued, and the leader of the
-hunt galloped up, followed by his little pack, who soon pulled down the
-game.
-
-After all my boasting about the abundance of deer in these post-oak
-forests the reader is, I dare say, prepared to learn that with a party
-of fifteen the spoil of a ten-days hunt would be one thousand head at
-the very least. Great will be his surprise therefore to learn that
-at the close of our first day's hunt we returned to camp without one
-solitary buck or doe to show to our disgusted cooks. Never had the game
-been so scarce, and yet not a man of us all had the same loads in his
-gun with which he had sallied gaily forth full of hope in the morning.
-One fine buck alone had emptied just thirty barrels for us. Flushed on
-the extreme right, he had bounded along in front of the whole line, a
-trifle out of range, perhaps, and each one of us had given him a roaring
-double salute. As the rolling thunder approached me I almost ceased
-to breathe. What were conjugations and declensions and rules of three
-compared with this! It was like a battle, as I have since discovered,
-with the notable difference that our side made all the noise, and the
-deer did not shoot back. But none of us had been able, in the language
-of Mr. Sam Weller's Dick Turpin ditty, to "prewail upon him for to
-stop." Other shots at other deer all of us had, but we supped on bacon
-that evening.
-
-[Illustration: 0075]
-
-
-SECOND PART
-
-
-|ONE who has never tried the experiment can have no idea how easy it
-is to miss when firing from horseback at a buck who sends your heart
-up into your mouth by springing up from beneath your horse's heels, and
-then speeds away, twisting and turning among the boles of the trees.
-Men who could bring down a partridge with each barrel have been known to
-shoot away half a bag of shot before they began to get the hang of the
-thing.
-
-The shades of evening were falling. Humiliating though it was, we had
-fallen, too, with a will on our gameless supper.
-
-"S-t! Listen! What's that?"
-
-We pricked up our ears. Presently there came softly echoing from far
-away in the forest a long-drawn cry, ringing, melodious, clear as a
-bugle call.
-
-"Billy!"
-
-The welkin rang with our joyous shouts. Half our party sprang to their
-feet and red-hot coffee splashed from tin cups. "Hurrah!"
-
-"Marse Billy got the keenest holler I ever hear!" chuckled Beverly.
-"Bound he fetch luck 'long wid him! No mo' bacon for supper arter dis."
-
-We craned our necks to catch the first glimpse of our mascot. Obviously,
-from the direction of the joyous yells with which he answered our
-welcoming shouts, he had abandoned the road and was riding straight
-through the open woods. Presently we descried through the deepening
-twilight his portly form looming up atop a tall gray. Then two vivid
-flashes and two loud reports, followed by a mad rush of the gray, which
-came tearing down on us in wild terror, and for a minute we were treated
-to something like an amateur episode from one of Mr. Buffalo Bill's
-entertainments. Amid roars of laughing welcome the ponderous knight was
-at last helped down from his trembling steed, whose bridle Beverly had
-been able luckily to snatch as he floundered among the tent ropes.
-
-"And where the deuce did you pick up that wild beast? Surely you can't
-expect to shoot from him!"
-
-"Oh, I'll cool him down in a day or two; he'll soon get used to it."
-
-In point of fact a horse who dreads a gun gets more and more terror
-stricken as the hunt goes on, the mere sight of a deer, the cocking of
-a gun even, sufficing to set him off into plungings that grow day by day
-more violent. This none should have known better than Blount; for never,
-by any chance, did he ride to the hunt with an animal that would "stand
-fire." The discharge of his gun, the rise of a buck even, was always the
-opening of a circus with him. But he managed invariably to let off both
-barrels--one perhaps through the tree tops, the other into the ground.
-In one particular alone was he provident. He brought always so immense
-a supply of ammunition that toward the close of the hunt his tent was a
-supply magazine to the less thoughtful.
-
-"What!" exclaimed Blount, "not a single one! Ah! boys, that was because
-I was not with you." The jovial soul had not a trace of conceit; he was
-merely sanguine--contagiously, gloriously, magnificently sanguine.
-
-"Ah, but won't we knock 'em over tomorrow!" And straightway we lifted up
-our hearts and had faith in this prophet of pleasant things.
-
-"Beverly, will that mule Ned stand fire?"
-
-"I dunno, Marse Billy; nobody ain't nebber tried him. But I 'spec' you
-wouldn't ax him no odds."
-
-"I'll go and have a look at him."
-
-Shortly afterward we heard two tremendous explosions, followed by a
-frenzied clatter of hoofs and the sound of breaking branches, and up
-there came, running and laughing, a Monsieur Wynen, a Belgian violinist,
-a real artist, who was one of our party (though never a trigger did he
-pull during the entire hunt).
-
-"What's the matter?"
-
-Wynen was first violin in an opera troupe.
-
-"It is only Blount rehearsing Ned."
-
-Any man in the world except Blount would have tested that demure wheel
-mule's views as to firearms by firing off his gun in his neighborhood as
-he stood tethered. Not so Billy. Mounting the guileless and unsuspecting
-Ned, and casting the reins upon his bristly neck, he had let drive.
-
-Shocked beyond expression by the dreadful roar and flash (it was now
-night) Ned had made a mad rush through the woods. In vain; for
-Blount had a good seat. Then had there come into Ned's wily brain the
-reminiscence of a trick that he had never known to fail in thirty years.
-He stopped suddenly, still as a gate post, at the same time bracing his
-vertebrae into the similitude of a barrel hoop, and instantly Blount lay
-sprawling upon his jolly back; and there was a second roar, followed by
-a rush of buckshot among the leaves and around the legs of the audience
-that was watching the rehearsal. "Never mind, Jack," said he to me,
-shortly afterward, "I'll find something that will stand fire" and
-throwing his arm around my shoulder for a confidential talk of the
-slaughter he was to do on the morrow, his sanguine soul bubbled into my
-sympathetic ear:
-
-"I say, Jack, don't tell the boys; but I have got two bags of shot. They
-would laugh, of course. Now, how many ought a fellow to bring down with
-two bags? I mean a cool-headed chap who does not lose his head. How
-does one dozen to the bag strike you? Reasonable? H'm? Of course.
-Twenty-four, then. Well, let us say twenty-five, just to round off
-things. Golly! Why, nine is the highest score I ever made. Twenty-five!
-Why, that is a quarter of a hundred. Did you notice that? Whee-ew! The
-boys will stop bedeviling me after that, h'm? I should say so. Not a
-rascal of them all ever killed so many. Cool and steady, that's the
-thing, my boy. Up he jumps! What of that? Don't be flustered, I tell
-you. Count ten. Then lower your gun. There is not the least hurry in the
-world. Drop the muzzle on his side, just behind his shoulder. Steady!
-Let him think you are not after deer this morning. If it is a doe let it
-appear that you are loaded for buck. Bang! Over he tumbles in his
-tracks. You load up and are off again. Up hops another--a beauty. Same
-tactics--boo-doo-ee! Got him! What's the sense of throwing away your
-shot? Costs money--delays the line. Cool--cool and steady--that's the
-word, my boy. Get any shots to-day? Three? Hit anything?"
-
-It was too dark for him to see how pale I went at this question. "Mr.
-Blount," said I, with a choking in my throat (nobody could help telling
-the big-hearted fellow everything), "you won't tell my father, will
-you?"
-
-"Tell him what?"
-
-"Well, you see, he cautioned me over and over again never, under
-any circumstances, to fire at a deer that ran toward a neighboring
-huntsman."
-
-"Of course not--never!" echoed Blount with conviction.
-
-"And to-day--and to-day, when I was not thinking of such a thing, a big
-buck jumped up from right under my horse's belly, and did you notice
-that gray-headed old gentleman by the fire? Well, the buck rushed
-straight toward him--and I forgot all about what my father had said and
-banged away."
-
-"Did you pepper him?" put in Billy eagerly.
-
-"Pepper him!"
-
-"I mean the buck."
-
-"I don't know, he went on."
-
-"They will do it, occasionally, somehow."
-
-"When I saw the leaves raining down on the old gentleman, my heart
-stopped beating. You will not tell my father?"
-
-"Pshaw! There was no harm done. We must trust to Providence in these
-matters. What did the old gentleman say?"
-
-"Not a word; it was his first campaign, too. His eyes were nearly
-popping out of his head. He let off both barrels. The shot whistled
-around me!"
-
-"The old fool! He ought to know better. To-morrow your father must put
-you next to me."
-
-Blount brought us hilarity and hope, but no luck, at any rate at first.
-When we rode slowly into camp on the following day, just as the sun went
-down, we had one solitary doe to show. Blount--Blount of all men--had
-killed it. The servants hung it up on one of the poles that remained
-from year to year stretched against the neighboring trees.
-
-Owing to Blount's weight his game was always strapped behind some less
-lucky huntsman; so we had had no opportunity of examining his riddled
-quarry.
-
-"Why, how is this?" exclaimed he. "Oh, I remember; the other side was
-toward me."
-
-We went around to the other side. Had the doe died of fright? After
-much searching we found one bullet hole just behind the shoulder. Blount
-always put four extra bullets into his load. So he had showered down
-forty buckshot upon a doe lying in her bed at a distance of twenty feet
-and struck her with one.
-
-"I say, Jack, for the Lord's sake don't tell the boys!"
-
-After these two days our luck improved, and at the end of the hunt our
-score reached seventy-eight; the smallest number, by the way, that the
-club had ever killed. It would hardly be interesting to go into the
-details of each day's sport, but our hero's adventures one night seem
-worth recording. To this joyous and indefatigable spirit the day was all
-too short. No sooner had he eaten his supper each day than he began to
-importune the younger men of the party to join him in a "fire hunt;"
-but, as they were not Blounts, they felt that a long day in the saddle
-was enough. In his despair Blount turned to Beverly. That amiable
-creature, not knowing how to refuse the request of a white gentmun,
-assented, but with a quaking heart, for were not the surrounding forests
-swarming with ravenous wolves? He had often lain awake and listened
-complacently enough to their howling, but to trust, to thrust, himself
-wantonly among them at dead of night!
-
-"Wid nobody along but Marse Billy Blount, an' he couldn't hit nothin',
-even by daylight, onless dey asleep. He hear 'em say wolf 'fraid o'
-fire. Maybe he is. But lights draws dem wild varmints, an' 'sposin'
-arter a whole congregation un 'em done come up starin' at de light;
-'sposin' somehow or nuther de torch got out--whar Beverly den? Marse
-Billy got de gun; but whar Beverly? Ain't I hear people say wolf more
-ambitiouser for nig-gar dan for sheep meat? Howsomever, ef my own
-mahster willin' to resk losin' of me, I can stand it, I reckon. But Tom,
-ef you should wake up, and hear something coming through de bresh like a
-drove o' steers, you needn't ax what dat; it's me and de wolves a-makin'
-for camp; an' me in the lead, wid de help o' de Laud." Sitting in front
-of the blazing logs and chatting with his fellow cooks, Beverly could
-see the humor of his quite real fears.
-
-Behold, then, the burly knight and his dusky and not over-valiant squire
-setting forth in quest of adventure--the one mounted on his tall gray,
-the other astraddle of Ned. It appears incredible that any man in his
-senses would take two such ani-malson such an expedition, but there
-never was but one Blount. Beverly carried the gun, his chief the torch,
-consisting of "lightwood" knots blazing in the bowl of a long-handled
-frying pan. The handle, resting on the right shoulder, was held
-somewhat depressed, so that the light should shine above the head of
-the huntsman, illumining the woods in his front. The sportsman, slowly
-waving the handle to and fro, peers intently into the darkness in quest
-of the gleaming eyes of some staring buck.
-
-Presently a dismal howl from far away to the right came stealing through
-the silence. And presently an answering cry from the left, and much
-nearer. And another, and another! _Ugh! what was that?_ A rabbit had
-darted under Ned, across the rattling leaves. Beverly, shivering, dug
-his heels into Ned's ribs. Ned pressed forward till his nose touched
-the ticklish flank of the gray. The gray let fly with whizzing hoof. Ned
-shut his eyes, unwilling to witness the enormity of an aged mule being
-kicked at by torchlight.
-
-"Beverly! Beverly!" breathed the knight eagerly, "gimme the gun! gimme
-the gun! I see a pair of eyes as big as saucers!"
-
-"M--M--Marse B--B--Billy------------"
-
-"Quick! gimme the gun! What the devil is the matter with you?"
-
-"De wolves, Marse Billy! 'Sposin' arter de gun done empty dey splunge in
-upon us? I bound a whole nation un 'em watchin' us dis minute!"
-
-Blount wrested the gun from the reluctant Beverly, whose knee now
-trembled against his. Pressing down the pan handle so as to throw the
-light well in front, he cocked the gun, adjusted it to his shoulder,
-took aim, and pulled the trigger.
-
-Blount, in reply to the warning of his friends, had urged that it
-might very well be that a horse that shied by day at a gun would act
-differently at night. And he was right. By daylight the gray was in the
-habit of making one or two violent plunges when his rider fired. But
-tonight, when that terrible roar broke the stillness and that fierce
-blaze flashed into his eyes----
-
-Immediately after the sound of the gun reached us we heard the anxious,
-jolting bray of a trotting mule. The disjointed, semi-asinine song came
-nearer, and presently Ned hurried past the fire to his place by his
-tethered mate, with a low equine chuckle of satisfaction. In his wake
-rushed Beverly, panting, wide eyed. It was a full minute before he could
-speak.
-
-"Lord, mahsters, don't ax me nothin'; I don't know nothin' 'bout it.
-I 'most don't know whether I here or no arter de way dem revengious
-varmints whoop me through dem woods, a-yelpin' an' a-gnash-in' o' deir
-teeth. B'fo' Gaud, I thought every minute was gwine to be my next! When
-Marse Billy shoot, though I beg him not to, seein' dat de whole woods
-was a-bilin' wid wolves, dat fool of a horse o' hisn jess riz on
-his hind legs an' splunge right over me an' Ned, jess like we warn't
-nothin''t all. Dem lightwood knots flew right up, same as one o' dem
-blaze o' glories I see when I got religion. I lit on my head. Ned he
-went oneway; Marse Billy horse anudder. But seein' as I done knowed
-Ned de longest, I followed him--an' he fotch me home. Run? No, twarnt
-runnin', twas flyin'; an' every jump de varmints was a-reachin' for me.
-I hear deir teeth, jess as plain, clashin' like sheep shears. Umgh-umgh!
-Beverly hump heself he did. Jess look at my clothes! I left de rest
-of 'em on de bushes. Whar Marse Billy? Lord a-mussy, I dunno! I mighty
-'fraid de wolves done got him, leastwise ef he didn't set hard on dat
-dere fool gray.
-
-"Mahster, couldn't you gimme jess a leetle tetch o' dat whiskey? I'se
-powerful downhearted. Thank you, mahster. But mahster, don't lemme go
-no mo' a spotin' along o' Marse Billy; seem like I ain't dat kind. Lemme
-drive my mules, lemme cook, don't lemme go projickin' about wid Marse
-Billy Blount no mo'. You laughin', is you, Tom? Nemmind--you go next
-time!"
-
-Presently there came to us from far away a doleful yell, with nothing
-of the bugle blast in it. "There he is!" and we made response with
-laughter-choked shouts.
-
-About fifteen minutes afterward the sound of hoofs was heard, and
-presently our mighty hunter appeared, but _quantum mutatus ab illo!_ No
-hat, no gun, one skirt of his coat and half of the buttons gone; shirt
-bosom torn out, trousers hanging in ribbons! But though his face was
-scratched beyond recognition he remained the one, only true Blount in
-the world; though his eyes were bloodshot they beamed with conscious
-victory.
-
-"Boys," said he, "which of you will go and help me bring him in?"
-
-"Bring what in?"
-
-"Why, the buck--I blew his infernal head off, sure!"
-
-Next morning Blount and Beverly rode to the scene of their exploit, and
-Blount secured his gun and Beverly his frying pan. 'The buck had either
-walked off without his head or been swallowed by one of the varmints.
-
-
-
-
-A CAHUTTA VALLEY SHOOTING MATCH, By Will N. Harben
-
-
-[Illustration: 9087]
-
-HERE was a sound of merriment on Farmer Bagley's place. It was "corn
-shucking" night, and the young people from all sides had met to partake
-of mirth and hospitality. After all had taken seats in the large sitting
-room and parlor, the men were invited with a mysterious wink and grin
-from the countenance of jovial Bagley to taste the contents of a large
-brown jug which smiled on a shelf beside the water bucket out in the
-entry. Its saturated corn-cob stopper, lying whiskey colored in the
-moonlight by the side of the jug, gave a most tempting aroma to the
-crisp, invigorating November air and rendered Bagley's signs and hints
-all the more comprehensible.
-
-They were mostly young men who, with clattering boots, filed out to the
-shelf and turned, with smacking lips wiped on their hands, back to the
-clusters of shy, tittering maidens round the blazing log fires. They
-wore new jean trousers neatly folded round muscular calves and stowed
-away, without a visible wrinkle, into high, colored-topped boots with
-sharp, brightly-polished heels, upon which were strapped clanking spurs.
-Their sack coats, worn without vests over low-necked woolen shirts,
-fitted their strong bodies admirably.
-
-Dick Martin, a tall, well-built young man with marked timidity in his
-voice, considerably augmented by the brightness of Melissa Bagley's
-eyes, drew near that young lady and said:
-
-"Yore pap has certainly got some o' the best corn licker in this county,
-Melissa; it liter'ly sets a feller on fire."
-
-"Be ashamed, Dick Martin!" she answered, with a cautious glance around
-her as if she feared that someone would observe the flush that had
-risen into her pretty face as he approached. "Be ashamed o' yorese'f fur
-techin' licker; last log-rollin' you 'lowed you'd tuk yore last dram.
-Paw ort to be churched fur settin' temptation 'fore so many young men.
-Ef I had my way the' wouldn't be a still, wild cat nur licensed, in the
-Co-hutta Mountains nowhar."
-
-"Shucks, Melissa!" exclaimed Dick. "Don't git yore dander up 'bout
-nothin'. I'm that anxious to git yore pap on my side I'd drink slop,
-mighty high, ef he 'uz to ax me. He don't like me, an' blame me ef I
-know why, nuther. I ain't been here in the last three Sunday nights
-'thout him a-callin' you to bed most 'fore dark. He didn't raise no
-objections to Bill Miller a-stayin' tell 'leven o'clock last Tuesday
-night. Oh, I ain't blind to hurt! Bill owns his own land and I havn't
-a shovelful; thar's the difference. He's a-comin' now, but mind you I'm
-agwine to set by you at shuckin'."
-
-The bright flush which had added such beauty to the girl's face vanished
-as Bill Miller swaggered up and said with a loud voice, as he roughly
-shook her hand:
-
-"Meliss', kin I wait on you at shuckin'?"
-
-"Dick's jest this minute axed me," she stammered, beginning to blush
-anew.
-
-"Well, he ain't axed to set on both sides uv you, I reckon. You'd be a
-uncommon quar pusson ef the' wuz jest one side to you. What's to keep me
-frum settin' on tother side frum Dick?"
-
-To this the farmer's daughter made no reply, and as the guests were now
-starting to the barnyard she was escorted between the two rivals to the
-great coneshaped heap of unhusked corn gleaming in the pale moonlight.
-
-"All keep yore feet an' form a ring round the pile!" called out Bagley,
-so as to be overheard above the sound of their voices. "The' ain't no
-r'al fun 'thout everything is conducted fa'r and squar'. Now" (as all
-the merrymakers stood hand in hand round the corn heap, Dick with one of
-Melissa's hands in his tight clasp and his rival with the other)--"now,
-all march round an' somebody start 'King William Wuz King James' Son,'
-an' when I tell you to halt set down right whar' you are. I'm a-doin'
-this 'kase at Wade's last week some fellers hid red yeers o' corn nigh
-the'r places an' wuz etarnally a-kissin' o' the gals, which ain't fa'r
-nur decent. The rule on this occasion shall be as common, in regard to
-the fust feller that finds a red yeer o'corn bein' 'lowed to kiss any
-gal he likes, but atter that one time--understand everybody--atter
-that no bussin' kin take place, red yeer ur no red yeer. I advocate
-moderation in all things, especially whar' a man an' woman's mouth is
-con-sarned."
-
-While the musical tones of the familiar song were rising, and the straw
-beneath the feet of the human chain was rustling, Bagley called aloud
-the word: "Halt!" and all sat down immediately and went to work with
-a will. Song after song was sung. The hard, pearly silk-tipped ears of
-corn flew through the air and rained into the crib near at hand, and
-billows of husks rolled up behind the eager workers and were raked away
-by negroes who were not permitted to take part in the sport.
-
-"Here's a red un, by hunky!" yelled out a sunburnt, downy-faced youth,
-standing up and holding aloft a small ear of blood-red corn.
-
-"Hold on thar!" shouted Bagley in commanding tones. "The rules must be
-enforced to the letter. Jim Lash, ef yore yeer measures full six inches
-ye're the lucky man, but ef it falls short o' that size its a nubbin an'
-don't count."
-
-An eager group encircled the young man, but soon a loud laugh rose and
-they all fell back into their places, for the ear had proved to be only
-five inches in length.
-
-"Not yit, Jimmy Lash; not yit," grunted Dick Martin, as he raked an
-armful of unhusked corn into his and Melissa's laps. Then to Melissa
-in an undertone: "Ef wishin' 'u'd do any good, I'd be the fust to run
-acrost one, fur, by jingo! the' ain't a livin' man, Melissa, that could
-want it as bad as I do with you a-settin' so handy. By glory! [aloud]
-here she is, as red as sumac an' as long as a rollin' pin. The Lord be
-praised!" He had risen to his feet and stood holding up the trophy for
-Bagley's inspection, fairly aglow with triumph and exercise.
-
-The rustling in the corn husks ceased. All eyes were directed upon
-the erect forms of Dick Martin and Farmer Bagley. The clear moonlight
-revealed an unpleasant expression on the older man's face in vivid
-contrast to the cast of the younger's. Bagley seemed rather slow to form
-a decision; all present suspected the cause of his hesitation.
-
-"Fair's fair, Bagley!" called out an old farmer outside of the circle.
-"Don't belittle yorese'f by 'lowin' anything o' a personal natur' to
-come in an' influence you ag'in right. Dick Martin's the fust an' is
-entitled to the prize."
-
-"Yore right, Wilson," admitted Bagley, with his eyes downcast. "Dick
-Martin is the winner an' kin proceed; howsomever, thar's some things
-that----"
-
-               Salute yore bride an' kiss her sweet,
-
-               Now you may rise upon yore feet!
-
-sang the leader of the singers, completely drowning the remainder of
-Bagley's sentence. As quick as a flash of lightning Dick had thrown his
-arm round struggling Melissa and imprinted a warm kiss on her lips. Then
-the workers applauded vociferously, and Melissa sat, suffused with
-crimson, between sullen Bill Miller and beaming Dick Martin. Bagley
-showed plainly that Dick's action and the applause of all had roused his
-dislike for Dick even deeper than ever.
-
-"I'm knowed to be a man o' my word," he fumed, white in the face and
-glancing round the ring of upturned faces. "I'm firm as firm kin be,
-I mought say as the rock o' Bralty, when I take a notion. I've heerd a
-leetle o' the talk in this settlement 'mongst some o' the meddlin' sort,
-an' fur fear this leetle accident mought add to the'r tattle I'd jest
-like to remark that ef thar's a man on the top side o' the earth that
-knows what's to be done with his own flesh an' blood it ort to be me.
-What's been the talk ain't so, not a speck of it. I've got somethin' to
-say to----"
-
-"Paw!" expostulated Melissa, almost crying.
-
-"Mr. Bagley--I say, Abrum Bagley, don't make a born fool o' yorese'f,"
-broke in Mrs. Bagley, as she waddled into the circle and laid her hand
-heavily upon her husband's arm. "Now, folks, it's about time you wuz
-gittin' somethin' warm into you. You kin finish the pile atter you've
-eat. Come on, all hands, to the house!"
-
-A shadow of mortification fell athwart Dick's honest face as soon as
-Bagley had spoken. His sensitive being was wounded to the core. As he
-and Melissa walked back to the farm house together, Bill Miller having
-dropped behind to gossip with someone over Bagley's remarks, he was
-silent, and timid Melissa was too shy to break the silence, although it
-was very painful to her.
-
-Reaching the entrance to the farm house, Dick held back and refused to
-enter with the others.
-
-"Ain't you gwine to come in an' have some supper?" Melissa asked,
-pleadingly.
-
-"I ain't a-goin' narry nuther step. Anything cooked in this house would
-stick in my throat atter what's been said. He struck me a underhanded
-lick. I won't force myse'f on 'im nur to his table."
-
-"I think you mought, bein' as I axed you," said she tremblingly, as she
-shrank into the honeysuckle vines that clung to the latticework of the
-entry.
-
-"No, blame me ef I do!" he answered firmly. "I'm of as good stock as
-anybody in this county; nobody cayn't run no bull yearlin' dry shod over
-me."
-
-All Melissa could do could not induce him to join the others in the
-dining room, and when he walked angrily away she ran into her own room,
-and sitting down in the darkness alone she burst into a flood of tears.
-After supper the guests repaired again to the corn heap, but Melissa was
-not among them, and the spirits of all seemed somewhat dampened.
-
-After that night Dick Martin and Melissa Bagley did not meet each other
-for several days. However, on the Sunday following the corn shucking, as
-Melissa was returning from meeting through the woods alone, the very one
-who was uppermost in her troubled mind joined her. He emerged from the
-thick-growing bushes which skirted her path, with a very pale face and
-unhappy mien.
-
-"I jest couldn't wait another minute, Melissa," he said, standing
-awkwardly before her, "not ef I had to be shot fur it."
-
-"Paw's mighty stubborn an' contrary when he takes a notion," she said,
-with hanging head and an embarrassed kick of her foot at a tuft of
-grass. "I think he mought let me alone. You ain't the only one he hates.
-Thar's ol' man Lawson; law, he hates him wuss'n canker! I heerd 'im say
-tother day ef somebody 'u'd jest beat Lawson shootin' next match he'd be
-his friend till death. He ain't never got over his lawsuit with Lawson
-over the sheep our dog killed. Paw fit it in court through three terms,
-an' then had to give in an' settle the claim an' all the costs besides.
-It mighty nigh broke im. Fur the last five years Lawson has driv home
-the prize beef from the fall match, an' every time paw jest fairly
-shakes with madness over it."
-
-When Dick left Melissa at the bars in sight of her house and turned
-toward his home a warm idea was tingling in his brain, and by the time
-he had reached his father's cottage he was fairly afire with it. The
-shooting match was to take place in a month--what was to prevent him
-from taking part in it? He had an excellent rifle, and had done some
-good shooting at squirrels. Perhaps if he would practice a good deal
-he might win. Lawson was deemed the best marksman in all the Cohutta
-valleys, and frequently it had been hard to get anyone to enter a match
-against him. Dick at last decided to enter the forthcoming match at
-all events. He went into his cottage and took down his rifle from its
-deer-horn rack over the door. While he was eyeing the long, rusty barrel
-critically his old mother entered.
-
-"Fixin' fur a hunt, Dick? Thar's a power o' pa'tridges in the sage
-field down the hollar. A rifle ain't as good fur that sort o' game as a
-shotgun; suppose you step over an' ax Hanson to loan you his'n?"
-
-"I jest 'lowed I'd shine this un up a bit bein' as it's Sunday an' I
-hate to be idle," he answered, evasively, as he seated himself at the
-wide fireplace with a pan of grease and a piece of cloth and rubbed his
-gun barrel until it fairly shone in the firelight. The next morning he
-threw it over his shoulder and, taking an axe in his hand, he started
-toward the woods.
-
-"Didn't know but I mought find a bee tree somers," he said sheepishly,
-as he saw his mother looking wonderingly at the axe. "Not likely, but
-I mought, thar's no tellin', though the darn little varmints do keep
-powerful close hid this time o' year."
-
-He went over the hills and through the tangled woods until he came to
-a secluded old field. He singled out a walnut tree near its centre, and
-going to it he cut a square white spot in the bark with his axe. It is
-needless to detail all that took place there that day, or on other days
-following it. For the first week the earnest fellow would return from
-this spot each afternoon with a very despondent look upon him. As time
-passed, however, and his visits to the riddled tree grew more frequent
-his face began to grow brighter.
-
-Once his mother came suddenly upon him as he stood in the cottage before
-the open door with his rifle placed in position for firing. He lowered
-his gun with a deep blush.
-
-"I 'us jest a tryin' to see how long I could keep the sight on that shiny
-spot out thar in the field without flinchin'. Blame me, ef you hadn't
-come in I believe I could a helt her thar tell it thundered."
-
-"Dick," said the old woman, with a deep breath, "what on earth has got
-in you here lately? Are you gwine plump stark crazy 'bout that old gun?
-You never tuk on that way before."
-
-"I've jest found out I'm purty good on a shot, that's all," he replied,
-evasively.
-
-"Well," said she, "as fur as that's concerned, in old times our stock
-was reckoned to be the best marksmen in our section. You ort to be; yore
-narrer 'twixt the eyes, an' that's a shore sign."
-
-Dick caught a glimpse of Melissa now and then, and managed to exchange
-a few words with her occasionally, the nature of which we will not
-disclose. It may be said, however, that she was always in good spirits,
-which puzzled her father considerably, for he was at a loss to see why
-she should be so when Dick had not visited her since the night of the
-corn shucking. Moreover, she continually roused her father's anger by
-speaking frequently of the great honor that belonged to Farmer Lawson
-for so often Winning the prizes in the shooting matches.
-
-"Dang it, Melissa, dry up!" he exclaimed, boiling with anger, "you know
-I hate that daddrated man. I'd fling my hat as high as the moon ef some
-o' these young bucks 'u'd beat him this fall; he's as full o' brag as a
-lazy calf is with fleas."
-
-"No use a hopin' fur anything o' that sort, paw; Lawson's too old a
-han'. He ain't got his equal at shootin' ur lawin.' The whole country
-couldn't rake up a better one." After speaking in this manner she would
-stifle a giggle by holding her hand over her mouth until she was livid
-in the face, and escape from her mystified parent, leaving him to vent
-his spleen on the empty air.
-
-The day of the annual shooting match drew near. It was not known who
-were to be the participants aside from Lawson, for the others usually
-waited till the time arrived to announce their intentions. No better
-day could have been chosen. The sky was blue and sprinkled with frothy
-clouds, and the weather was not unpleasantly cold. Women and men, boys,
-girls and children from all directions were assembled to witness the
-sport and were seated in chairs and wagons all over the wide, open
-space.
-
-Melissa was there in a cluster of girls, and her father was near by in
-a group of men, all of whom--like himself--disliked the blustering,
-boasting Lawson and fondly hoped that someone would beat him on this
-occasion. Lawson stood by himself, with a confident smile on his face.
-His rifle butt rested on the grass and his hands were folded across each
-other on the end of his gun barrel.
-
-"Wilks," said he to the clerk of the county court, who had been chosen
-as referee for the occasion, "git up yore list o' fellers that are bold
-enough to shoot agin the champion. I reckon my nerves are 'bout as they
-wuz six yeer ago when I fust took my stan' here to larn this settlement
-how to shoot."
-
-Just before the list of aspirants was read aloud Dick managed to reach
-Melissa's side unobserved by her father.
-
-"Did you keep yore promise 'bout cut-tin' my patchin' fur me?" he asked
-in a whisper.
-
-With trembling fingers she drew from her pocket several little pieces
-of white cotton cloth about the size of a silver quarter of a dollar and
-gave them to him.
-
-"They're jest right to a gnat's heel," he said, warmly. "A ball packed
-in one o' them'll go straight ur I'm no judge."
-
-"Dick," whispered she, looking him directly in the eyes, "you ain't a
-bit flustered. I believe you'll win."
-
-With a smile Dick turned away and joined the crowd round the referee's
-chair, and when his name was called a moment later among the names of
-four others he brought his rifle from a wagon and stood in view of
-the crowd. The first applause given that day was accorded him, for in
-addition to its being his first appearance in a shooting match he was
-universally popular.
-
-"Bully fur you, Dick; here's my han' wishing you luck!" said a
-cheery-voiced farmer, shaking Dick's hand.
-
-"It's the way with all these young strips," said Lawson in a loud,
-boastful tone. "Gwine to conquer the whole round world. He'll grin on
-tother side o' his mouth when Bettie, the lead queen, barks and spits in
-the very centre o' that spot out yander."
-
-A feeble murmur of admiration greeted this vaunting remark, but it
-quickly subsided as the crowd noted that Dick Martin did not reply even
-by so much as to raise his eyes from the inspection of his gun. The
-referee called for order.
-
-"Jim Baker," said he, "be so kind as to drive round yore stall-fed
-heifer. Ladies an' gentlemen [as a man emerged from a group of wagons
-and drove a fine-looking young cow into the open space], here's a heifer
-in fine enough order to make any man's eyes sore to look. Fifteen round
-dollars has been paid in, by the five men who are to burn powder
-to-day, $3 apiece, an' the man whose shootin' iron can fling lead
-the straightest on this occasion is entitled to the beef and the
-championship o' this valley till next fall. Now, Mr. Baker, lead out
-yore cow, an' the shooters will please form in a line."
-
-When the aspirants stood in front of him the referee continued:
-
-"Here is five pieces o' straw, all different lengths. The man who gets
-the shortest one shoots fust, the next longest next, an' so on till
-you've all had yore crack."
-
-Passing the straws to the riflemen, and af ter they had drawn one each
-from his tightly closed hands, he ordered a man to set up the target--a
-planed plank, about one foot in width and six in length, with a round
-marked spot about three inches in diameter, near the top.
-
-"I'd willin'ly give my chance o' oats to have some o' them boys knock
-the stuffin' clean out'n Lawson; he's that stuck up he cayn't hardly
-walk," said Bagley, his anger intensified by observing the sneering
-smile on Lawson's face.
-
-"I'm mighty afeard," said the man to whom Bagley was speaking, "that
-Dick Martin 'll lose his $3. I never heerd o' him bein' any han' with a
-gun."
-
-To this Bagley offered no reply. In his hatred for Lawson, and at such a
-time he had no thought to give to Dick.
-
-"All ready!" rang out the voice of the referee. "Bob Ransom gits the
-first pull at trigger to-day."
-
-Silence fell on the crowd as the tall, slender young man stepped forth
-and stood with his left foot on a line cut in the grass exactly 100
-yards from the tree against which the yellow board with its single eye
-leaned in the sunbeams. Not a whisper escaped the motionless assembly as
-the young man slowly brought his weapon into position. "Crack!" sounded
-the rifle out of a balloon-shaped cloud of blue smoke.
-
-"Missed centre, board, tree an' all!" cried out Bagley, in a tone of
-deep regret.
-
-"I seed yore lead plough up the dirt away out tother side; it's powerful
-hard to hold a steady han' when you are fust called on."
-
-"Next is Taylor Banks!" announced the referee; and as a middle-aged man
-advanced and toed the mark, Lawson was heard to say, with a loud laugh;
-"Fust one missed the tree; you folks on the left out thar 'u'd better
-set back fur-der; no tellin' who Banks 'll hit, fur he's a-tremblin'
-like so much jelly."
-
-"Hit about three inches due north o' the spot," called out the referee,
-as the smoke rose from the peering marksman. "I'm afraid, Tayl', that
-somebody 'll come nigher than that when the pinch comes. Joe Burk is the
-next, an' I'll take occasion to say here that I know of no man in all
-this mountain country that is more prompt to pay his taxes."
-
-"Crack!" A universal bending of necks to get the target in better view
-and a rolling billow of voices in the crowd.
-
-"A inch an' a half below the spot!" proclaimed the referee. "Why,
-friends, what ails you all? This ain't nigh such shootin' as we had last
-fall. Too many women present, I reckon. Ladies, if you'll cover up yore
-faces maybe the next two will do better. The straws say that Abraham
-Lawson has the next whack. Lawson, make yore bow."
-
-The champion of the settlement stepped into view with a haughty strut,
-dragging his rifle butt on the ground and swinging his broad-brimmed
-hat carelessly in his hand. Turning to a negro behind him as he took his
-place, he said so that all could hear:
-
-"Tobe, git yore rope ready an' stan' over thar nigh the beef. When you
-git 'er home turn 'er in the pastur'. Ef this thing goes on year atter
-year I'll start a cattle ranch an' quit farmin'."
-
-"Dang his hide!" exclaimed Bagley to Melissa, who was very pale and
-quite speechless. "Dang it, I'd lay this here right arm on any man's
-meat block an' give 'im leave to chop it off ef he'd jest git beat. He's
-that spiled flies is on 'im."
-
-Lawson's hat was now on the grass at his feet and he had deliberately
-raised his brightly-polished weapon to his broad shoulder. The sun
-glittered on the long steel tube. The silence for an instant was so
-profound that the birds could be heard singing in the woods and the
-cawing of the crows in the corn fields near by sounded harsh to the ear.
-For an instant the sturdy champion stood as if molded in metal, his
-long hair falling over his gun stock, against which his tanned cheek was
-closely pressed. Not a sound passed the lips of the assembly, and when
-the rifle report came it sent a twinge to many a heart.
-
-"Dang it!" ejaculated Lawson, as he lowered his gun and peered through
-the rising smoke toward the target. "I felt a unsteady quiver tech me
-jest as I pulled the trigger."
-
-"About half an inch from the very centre o' the mark. Yore ahead. Nobody
-is likely to come up to you, Lawson," said the referee. "The' ain't but
-one more."
-
-"I don't keer," replied Lawson. "I know the cow's mine; but I did want
-to come up to my record. I walked too fast over here an' it made me
-unsteady."
-
-"The next an' last candidate for glory," said the referee, "is Dick
-Martin. No cheerin', friends, it ain't been give to the others and you
-oughtn't to show partiality. Besides, it might excite him, an' he needs
-all the nerve he's got."
-
-Bagley was still at Melissa's side. He had his eyes too intently fixed
-on the stalwart form of Dick Martin and the young man's pale, determined
-visage to note that his daughter had covered her pale face with her
-cold, trembling hands and bowed her head.
-
-"By Jinks! he's the coolest cucumber that's lifted shootin' iron
-to-day," said Bagley under his breath. "Ef he beats Lawson dagg me if I
-don't give him a dance in my barn an' invite every man, woman an' child
-in the whole valley." With his left foot on the mark and his right
-thrown back easily, as if he were taking a step forward, and his
-well-formed body bent slightly toward the target, Dick stood motionless,
-sighting along his gun barrel at the target. Then, to the surprise of
-all, he raised his gun until it pointed to the top of the tree against
-which the target leaned. Here a gentle sigh, born from the union of half
-surprise and half disappointment, swept over the crowd as low as the
-whisper of a breeze through a dry foliaged tree. The sigh died away and
-intense silence claimed the moment, for the gun's point was sweeping
-rapidly downward. Hardly a second did it pause in a line with the
-target's centre before the report came, putting every breast in sudden
-motion. The marker's eyes saw a clean splinter fly from the very centre
-of the round.
-
-"The beef is won by Dick Martin!" loudly proclaimed the referee.
-
-"Whoopee! Glory! Glory!" The shout was from the lips of Bagley, and
-in an instant he had stridden across to Dick with outstretched hand.
-"Glory, Glory! Dick!" he exclaimed; "le'me have a hold o' yore fist.
-Tell judgment day I'm yore friend. I've said some sneakin' underhand
-things about you that's hurt yore feelin's an' I want to ax yore pardon.
-Dang it! I cayn't harbor no ill will agin a feller that's beat Abrum
-Lawson a-shootin'. Thank goodness you've fetched his kingdom to a end!"
-
-When down-fallen Lawson had slunk away unnoticed from the enthusiastic
-crowd who were eager to congratulate Dick, Bagley came up to him and
-said:
-
-"Dick, le'me have the honor o' drivin' the prize home fur you. Fur some
-reason ur other you didn't stay to supper with us corn-shuckin' night;
-Melissa's a waitin' fur you out thar in the bresh to ax you to come
-home with us to-night. By glory, Tobe," turning to Lawson's negro, "this
-yer's the same identical beef Lawson ordered you to drive home an' put
-in his pastur', ain't it? Well, you jest tell 'im his friend Bagley tuk
-the job off'n yore han's."
-
-[Illustration: 0105]
-
-
-
-
-MOERAN'S MOOSE--A HUNTING STORY, By Ed. W. Sandys.
-
-
-|ONE of the best fellows among the hardy lot who have ran the trails
-and paddled the lonely tributaries of the tipper Ottawa was Moeran.
-No bolder sportsman ever went into the woods, and few, or none of the
-guides or professional hunters could rival his skill with rifle or
-paddle. The tough old "Leatherstockings" fairly idolized him, for he
-got his game as they did, by straight shooting, perfect woodcraft, and
-honest hard work; and most of them, while they usually charged a heavy
-price for their services, would have gladly thrown in their lots with
-him for an outing of a month or more, and asked nothing save what he
-considered a fair division of the spoils. He was also a keen observer
-and a close student of the ways of bird and beast. The real pleasure of
-sport seemed to him to lie in the fact that it brought him very near to
-nature, and permitted him to pore at will over that marvelous open page
-which all might read if they chose, yet which few pause to study. His
-genial disposition and long experience made him ever a welcome and
-valuable companion afield or afloat, and the comrades he shot with
-season after season would have as soon gone into the woods without their
-rifles as without Moeran. Physically, he was an excellent type of the
-genuine sportsman. Straight and tall, and strongly made, his powerful
-arms could make a paddle spring, if need be, or his broad shoulders bear
-a canoe or pack over a portage that taxed even the rugged guides; and
-his long limbs could cover ground in a fashion that made the miles seem
-many and long to whoever tramped a day with him.
-
-And this was the kind of man that planned a trip for a party of four
-after the lordly moose. Moeran had, until that year, never seen a wild
-moose free in his own forest domain, and needless to say he was
-keenly anxious to pay his respects to the great king of the Canadian
-wilderness. He had been in the moose country many times while fishing
-or shooting in the provinces of New Brunswick, Quebec, Ontario and
-Manitoba; he had seen the slots of the huge deer about pool and stream,
-on beaver meadow and brule; he had spent more than one September night
-"calling," with a crafty Indian to simulate the plaintive appeals of
-a love-lorn cow; he had heard the great bulls answer from the distant
-hills--had heard even the low, grunting inquiry a bull moose generally
-makes ere emerging from the last few yards of shadowy cover, and
-revealing himself in all his mighty strength and pride in the moonlit
-open. More than once he had lain quivering with excitement and hardly
-daring to breathe, close-hidden in a little clump of scrub, about which
-stretched full forty yards of level grass on every side--lain so for an
-hour with every nerve strained to the ready, with ears striving to catch
-the faintest sound on the stillness of the night, and with eyes sweeping
-warily over the expanse of moonlit grass and striving vainly to pierce
-the black borders of forest, somewhere behind which his royal quarry was
-hidden. Upon such occasions he had lain and listened and watched until
-he fancied he could see the moose standing silently alert among the
-saplings, with ears shifting to and fro and with keen nose searching the
-air ceaselessly for trace of his mortal enemy. The occasional distant
-rattle of broad antlers against the trees as the big brute shook himself
-or plunged about in lusty strength had sounded on his ears, followed
-by the faint sounds of cautiously advancing footsteps seemingly bent
-straight toward the ambush. Then would follow a long agonizing pause,
-and then a snap of a twig or a faint rustling told that the crafty bull
-was stealing in a circle through the cover around the open space before
-venturing upon such dangerous ground.
-
-[Illustration: 0108]
-
-At last a deathlike silence for many minutes, and then a faint, far snap
-of twigs and "wish" of straightening branches as the great bull stole
-away to his forested hills, having read in breeze or on ground a
-warning of the foe concealed in the harmless scrub. All these were
-disappointments, but not necessarily bitter ones. The long night-vigils
-were after all rarely spent entirely in vain, for each brought to him
-some new ideas, or let him a little further into the dark mysteries of
-the great wild world's nightly moods and methods. The skilled craft of
-his Indian "caller;" the strange voices of the night that came to his
-ears, telling of the movements of creatures but seldom seen or heard by
-day, were full of interest to a genuine woodsman. And then the fierce
-though subdued excitement of the weird watch for the huge beast that
-never came, and yet might come at any moment full into the silvery
-moonlight from out the black belt of silent wood--these were each
-fascinating to such a nature as his. But still he had never once seen
-his long-looked-for game, though several seasons had slipped away and
-the month of July, 18----, had come and half passed by. Then Moeran
-got ready his fishing tackle and camping gear and vowed to find a good
-district for the party to shoot over the coming season, even if he had
-to remain in the woods an entire month. Right well he knew some of the
-likeliest points in New Brunswick, Quebec and Manitoba, the eastern
-portion of the latter province being the best moose country now
-available, but none of them met the requirements of the party, and so he
-decided to go into northern Ontario and prospect until he found what he
-sought.
-
-In the region of the upper Ottawa River, and in the wild lands about the
-Mattawa River and about the lakes forming its headwaters, is a country
-beloved of moose. Thither went Moe-ran, satisfied that his quest would
-not be in vain. Early in the third week of July he and his Peterboro
-canoe and outfit reached the railway station of North Bay, on the shore
-of noble Lake Nipissing. While awaiting the arrival of the guide and
-team for the next stage of his journey, he put rod together and strolled
-out on the long pier which extends for a considerable distance into the
-lake. Reaching the farther end and looking down into the clear, green
-depths below, he saw watchful black bass skulking in the shadows, and
-lazy pickerel drifting hither and thither, in and out, among the great
-piles which supported the pier. To tempt a few of these to their doom
-was an easy task, and soon the lithe rod was arching over a game black
-gladiator and a master hand was meeting every desperate struggle of a
-fighting fish, or slowly raising a varlet pickerel to his inglorious
-death. In time a hail announced the arrival of the team, and after
-presenting his captives to the few loungers on the pier, he busied
-himself stowing canoe and outfit upon the wagon.
-
-Their objective point was on the shore of Trout Lake, a lovely sheet
-of water distant from Nipissing about four miles. The road was in many
-places extremely bad and the team made slow progress, but there was
-plenty of time to spare and about noon they reached the lake. The guide,
-as guides are given to do, lied cheerfully and insistently every yard
-of the way, about the beauty of the lake, the countless deer and grouse
-upon its shores, the gigantic fish within its ice-cold depths, the game
-he, and parties he had guided, had killed, and the fish they had caught.
-He did well with these minor subjects, but when he touched upon moose
-and bear he rose to the sublime, and lied with a wild abandon which made
-Moeran seriously consider the advantage of upsetting the canoe later
-on and quietly drowning him. But he was not so far astray in his
-description of the lake. It formed a superb picture, stretching its
-narrow length for a dozen miles between huge, rolling, magnificently
-wooded hills, while here and there lovely islands spangled its silver
-breast. After a hurried lunch they launched the good canoe, the guide
-insisting upon taking his rifle, as, according to his story, they were
-almost certain to see one or more bear. The guide proved that he could
-paddle almost as well as he could lie, and the two of them drove the
-light craft along like a scared thing, the paddles rising and falling,
-flashing and disappearing, with that beautiful, smooth, regular sweep
-that only experts can give. For mile after mile they sped along, until
-at last they neared the farther end of the lake, where the huge hills
-dwindled to mere scattered mounds, between which spread broad beaver
-meadows, the nearest of them having a pond covering many acres near its
-center. All about this pond was a dense growth of tall water-grasses,
-and in many places these grasses extended far into the water which was
-almost covered, save a few open leads, with the round, crowding leaves
-of the water-lily. A channel, broad and deep enough to float the canoe,
-connected this pond with the lake, and, as the locality was an ideal
-summer haunt for moose, Moeran decided to investigate it thoroughly
-and read such "sign" as might be found. Landing noiselessly, he and the
-guide changed places, Moeran kneeling, forward, with the rifle on the
-bottom of the canoe in front of him, where he alone could reach it.
-"Now," he whispered, "you know the route and how to paddle; work her up
-as if a sound would cost your life. I'll do the watching."
-
-[Illustration: 0112]
-
-Slowly, silently, foot by foot, and sometimes inch by inch, the canoe
-stole up the currentless channel, the guide never raising his paddle,
-but pushing with it cautiously against the soft bottom and lily-roots.
-It was a good piece of canoe work, worthy even of Moeran's noted skill,
-and he thoroughly appreciated it. By motions of his hand he indicated
-when to halt and advance, while his eyes scanned sharply every yard of
-marsh revealed by the windings of the channel. Not the slightest sound
-marked their progress until they had almost entered the open water in
-the center of the pond, and were creeping past the last fringe of tall
-grass. Suddenly Moeran's hand signaled a halt, and the canoe lost its
-slow, forward motion. He looked and looked, staring fixedly at a point
-some twenty yards distant, where the growth of grass was thin and short
-and the lily-pads denser than usual, and as he gazed with a strange
-concentration, a wild light flashed in his eyes until they fairly blazed
-with exultant triumph. Straight before him among the faded greens and
-bewildering browns of the lily-pads was a motionless, elongated brown
-object very like the curved back of a beaver, and a foot or more from
-it, in the shadow of a clump of grass, something shone with a peculiar
-liquid gleam. It was an eye--a great, round, wild eye--staring full into
-his own--the eye of a moose--and the curving object like the back of
-a beaver was naught else than the enormous nose, or muffle, of a
-full-grown bull. Something like a sigh came from it, and then it slowly
-rose higher and higher until the head and neck were exposed. The big
-ears pointed stiffly forward, and the nose twitched and trembled for an
-instant as it caught the dreaded taint; then with a mighty floundering
-and splashing the great brute struggled to his feet. It was a grewsome
-spectacle to see this uncouth creature uprise from a place where it
-seemed a muskrat could hardly have hidden. For a few seconds he stood
-still.
-
-[Illustration: 0116]
-
-"Shoot! Shoot!"
-
-Moeran simply picked up the rifle and brought it level.
-
-"Load! 'Tain't loaded--the lever--quick!"
-
-He made no response, merely covered, first the point of the shoulder and
-then the ear, and then, as the bull plunged for the shore, he covered
-the shoulder twice more, then lowered the rifle, while a horribly
-excited guide cursed and raved and implored by turns in vain. And just
-how great was the temptation was never known, but it certainly would
-have proved irresistible to most men who call themselves sportsmen. In
-speaking about it afterward Moeran said: "It would have been a crime
-to have murdered the beast under such conditions, and out of season. I
-covered him fair four times, and could have dropped him dead where he
-stood--but we'll attend to them later on." For there were, in all, four
-moose in the pond, and, shortly after the big bull commenced his noisy
-retreat, a tremendous splashing and plunging from the other side of the
-pond attracted their attention. They turned just in time to see a grand
-old cow and two younger moose struggle through the last few yards of
-mud and water, and then crash their way into the cover at the rapid,
-pounding trot peculiar to the species.
-
-Moeran's mission had been accomplished much easier than was expected,
-and he certainly had discovered a most promising locality for the trip
-with his friends. After a day spent fishing, he departed homeward,
-leaving his canoe and camp outfit in charge of the guide, whom he also
-bound by most solemn pledge neither to betray the secret of the beaver
-meadow, nor to molest the moose himself, before Moeran and his friends
-returned in time for the first lawful day.
-
-The last day of the close season saw the party and the guide snugly
-encamped at a point half-way down the lake. His three friends had
-unanimously agreed that Moeran should have the honor of visiting the
-beaver meadow first, and alone if he desired. He was the surest shot and
-by far the best hand at this sort of business, and he had discovered the
-moose, while all hands knew how keen he was to secure a head to his own
-rifle. So at earliest dawn Moeran put lunch and rifle into his
-shapely Peterboro and sped noiselessly away through the ghostly vapors
-curtaining the sleeping lake, and they saw him no more for many hours.
-The guide had questioned the others about their comrade's shooting (of
-his ability at the paddle he had somewhat sorrowful remembrance), and
-then, strange to say, had advised Moeran to go alone.
-
-"So much more glory for you," he said, "and I'll look after these other
-gentlemen and give them a day's fishing." But his manner was shifty, and
-Moeran mistrusted him.
-
-In due time he reached the little channel leading to the beaver meadow,
-and, as the sun lifted clear of the distant hills, he began working his
-way to the pond. He hardly expected to find the moose there then, but he
-had made up his mind to steal into the high grass and hide and watch all
-day, if necessary, and, at all events, study the thing out thoroughly.
-As the sun rose higher a brisk breeze sprang up, but as it came from the
-woods toward his station he did not mind, although it would have been
-fatal to his chance, probably, had it come from any other point of
-the compass. Presently his nose detected a strong, sickening odor of
-carrion, which, in time, as the breeze gained force, became almost
-overpowering, and he started to investigate. Paddling straight up-wind
-he came at last to a small pool, and the trouble was explained. The
-half-decomposed body of a full-grown cow moose lay in the pool and
-Moeran muttered savagely his opinion of all such butchery when he saw
-that not even the feet had been taken for trophies. Then he poled his
-canoe to the edge of the meadow and scouted carefully entirely round the
-open, seeking for any possible sign of the remainder of the quartet.
-To his utter disgust he found the remains of another moose, one of the
-younger animals, lying just within the borders of the cover, and, as in
-the other case, the butcher had not troubled himself to take away any
-portion of his victim. Moeran understood, of course, that the guide
-had played him false, and if that worthy had been present he might have
-seriously regretted his wrong-doing, for he it was who had guided a
-learned and honorable (?) American judge to the sanctuary of the moose
-a month previously, and, for a consideration of twenty-five dollars,
-enabled his patron to gratify his taste for the shambles.
-
-Moeran's careful search discovered no fresh sign, and he made up his
-mind that the two survivors, the old bull and the yearling, had fled the
-scene and had probably sought another expanse of beaver meadow and ponds
-the guide had mentioned as being about ten miles from Trout Lake. Moeran
-knew that some sort of a trail led thither, and he resolved to find it
-and follow it to the end and endeavor to locate the moose.
-
-Of the ensuing long, hard day's work it will be unnecessary to speak in
-detail.
-
-At nine o'clock that night his three friends sat near their roaring
-camp-fire on the lake shore, wondering at his protracted absence. The
-guide had turned in an hour previous, but the three were anxious, so
-they sat and smoked, and discussed the question, piling great drift-logs
-on their fire till it roared and cracked in fierce exultation and leaped
-high in air to guide the wanderer home. Its long, crimson reflection
-stretched like a pathway of flame far over the black waters of the lake,
-and the three sat and waited, now glancing along this glowing path, anon
-conversing in subdued tones. The lake was as still and dark as a lake
-of pitch, and some way the three felt ill at ease, as though some evil
-impended. At last the veteran of the trio broke a longer silence than
-usual:
-
-"Boys, I don't like this. It's ten o'clock and he should have been back
-long ago. I hope to Heaven----"
-
-A touch on his arm from the man at his right caused him to glance
-quickly lakeward.
-
-Forty feet from them, drifting noiselessly into the firelight, was the
-Peterboro, with Moeran kneeling as usual and sending the light craft
-forward in some mysterious manner which required no perceptible movement
-of the arms nor lifting of the paddle. It was a fine exhibition of his
-skill to thus approach unheard three anxious, listening men on such a
-night, for he had heard their voices good two miles away. His appearance
-was so sudden, so ghostlike, that for a few seconds the party stared in
-mute surprise at the forms of man and craft standing out in sharp relief
-against the blackness of the night; then a whoop of delight welcomed
-him.
-
-He came ashore, swiftly picked up the canoe and turned it bottom upward
-on the sand for the night, carried his rifle into camp, then approached
-the fire and looked sharply round.
-
-"The guide's asleep."
-
-"Oh, he is; -------- him!" Then he flung himself down on the sand.
-Something in his tone and manner warned his friends not to talk, and
-they eyed him curiously. His face was white as death and drawn with an
-expression of utter exhaustion, and marked with grimy lines, showing
-where rivulets of sweat had trickled downward. As they looked, his eyes
-closed; he was going to sleep as he lay.
-
-Quietly the veteran busied himself getting food ready, and presently
-roused the slumberer.
-
-"Here, old chap, have a nip and eat a bite. Why, you're dead beat. Where
-on earth have you been?"
-
-A strangely hollow voice answered:
-
-"To the back lakes."
-
-His listeners whistled a combined long-drawn "whew" of amazement, for
-right well they knew the leagues of toilsome travel this statement
-implied.
-
-"See anything?"
-
-"Wounded the old bull badly, and trailed him from the lakes to within
-five miles of here. That cur sleeping yonder sold us; but you hear me!"
-he exclaimed with sudden fierce energy, "_I'll get that moose if I have
-to stay in the woods forever!_"
-
-The three looked at him in admiring silence, for they guessed that,
-in spite of his terrible day's work, he intended starting again at
-daylight. In a few moments he finished his meal and staggered to the
-tent, and fell asleep as soon as he touched his blanket.
-
-When the party turned out next morning the canoe was gone, though the
-sun was not yet clear, of the hills. After breakfast they started in
-quest of grouse, working through the woods in the direction of the
-beaver meadows, and finding plenty of birds. About ten o'clock they
-heard the distant report of a rifle, followed in a few minutes by a
-second, and the veteran exclaimed, "That's him, for an even hundred, and
-he's got his moose, or something strange has happened."
-
-At noon they returned to camp laden with grouse. No sign of the canoe
-as yet, so they had dinner, and lounged about and fished during the
-afternoon, casting many expectant glances down the lake for the laggard
-canoe. Night fell, with still no sound or sign of the wanderer, and
-again the camp-fire roared and flamed and sent its glowing reflection
-streaming far over the black waste of water. And again the three
-sat waiting. At ten o'clock the veteran rose and said, "Keep a sharp
-lookout, boys, and don't let him fool you again, and I'll get up a royal
-feed. He'll have moose-meat in the canoe this time, for he said _he'd
-get that moose if he had to stay in the woods forever_. He'll be dead
-beat, sure, for he's probably dragged the head out with him." So they
-waited, piling the fire high, and staring out over the lake for the
-first glimpse of the canoe. Eleven o'clock and midnight came and went,
-and still no sign. Then they piled the fire high for the last time and
-sought the tent. At the door the veteran halted, and laying a hand on
-the shoulder of his chum, drew him aside.
-
-"Why, whatever's the matter with you?"
-
-The old man's face wore a piteous expression, and his voice trembled as
-he whispered:
-
-"Hush! Don't let _him_ hear you--but there's something wrong. Something
-horrible has happened--I feel it in my heart."
-
-"Nonsense, man! You're sleepy and nervous. He's all right. Why, he's
-just cut himself a moose steak, and had a feed and laid down----"
-
-The sentence was never completed. A sound that caused both men to start
-convulsively tore through the black stillness of the night. A horrible,
-gurgling, demoniacal laugh came over the lake, and died away in fading
-echoes among the hills. "Woll-oll-all-ollow-wall-all-ollow!" as though
-some hideous fiend was laughing with his lips touching the water. They
-knew what it was, for the loon's weird cry was perfectly familiar to
-them, and they laughed too, but there was no mirth in their voices. Then
-one sought the tent, but the veteran paced up and down upon the cold
-beach, halting sometimes to replenish the fire or to stare out over the
-water, until a pale light spread through the eastern sky. Then he too
-turned in for a couple of hours of troubled, unrefreshing slumber.
-
-The bright sunshine of an Indian summer's day brought a reaction and
-their spirits rose wonderfully; but still the canoe tarried, and as the
-hours wore away, the veteran grew moody again and the midday meal was a
-melancholy affair. Early in the afternoon he exclaimed:
-
-"Boys, I tell you what it is: I can stand this no longer--something's
-wrong, and we're going to paddle those two skiffs down to the beaver
-meadow and find out what we can do, and we're going to start right now.
-God forgive us if we have been idling here while we should have been
-yonder!"
-
-Two in a boat they went, and the paddles never halted until the channel
-to the beaver meadow was gained. Dividing forces, they circled in
-opposite directions round the open, but only the taint of the long-dead
-moose marked the spot. Then they fired three rifles in rapid succession
-and listened anxiously, but only the rolling, bursting echoes of the
-woods answered them.
-
-"Guide, where would he probably have gone?"
-
-"Wa'al, he told you he'd run the old bull this way from the back
-lakes--thar's another leetle mash a mile north of us; it's an awful
-mud-hole, and the bull might possibly hev lit out fur thar. Enyhow, we'd
-best hunt the closest spots first."
-
-The picture of that marsh will haunt the memories of those three men
-until their deaths. A few acres of muskeg, with broad reaches of sullen,
-black, slimy water, its borders bottomless mud, covered with a loathsome
-green scum, and a few pale-green, sickly-looking larches dotting the
-open--the whole forming a repulsive blemish, like an ulcer, on the face
-of the earth. All round rose a silent wall of noble evergreens, rising
-in massive tiers upon the hills, with here and there a flame of gorgeous
-color where the frost had touched perishable foliage. Overhead a
-hazy dome of dreamy blue, with the sun smiling down through the gauzy
-curtains of the Indian summer. Swinging in easy circles, high in air,
-were two ravens, challenging each other in hollow tones, their orbits
-crossing and recrossing as they narrowed in slow-descending spirals.
-"Look, look at him!"
-
-[Illustration: 0124]
-
-One bird had stooped like a falling plummet, and now hung about fifty
-yards above the farther bounds of the muskeg, beating the air with
-heavy, sable pinions and croaking loudly to his mate above. Closing her
-wings, she stooped with a whizzing rush to his level, and there the two
-hung flapping side by side, their broad wings sometimes striking sharply
-against each other, their hoarse, guttural notes sounding at intervals.
-A nameless horror seized the men as they looked. Their hunter's instinct
-told them that death lay below those flapping birds, and with one
-impulse they hurried round on the firmer ground to the ill-omened spot.
-
-The veteran, white-faced but active as a lad, tore his way through the
-bordering cover first, halted and stared for an instant, then dropped
-his rifle in the mud, threw up his hands and exclaimed in an agonized
-voice:
-
-"Oh, my God, my God!"
-
-One by one they crashed through the brush and joined him, and stood
-staring. No need for questions. Ten square yards of deep-trodden,
-reeking mud and crushed grass, a trampled cap, and here and there a rag
-of brown duck; a silver-mounted flask shining in a little pool of bloody
-water; a stockless rifle-barrel, bent and soiled, sticking upright;
-beyond all a huge, hairy body, and below it a suggestion of another body
-and a blood-stained face, that even through its terrible disfigurement
-seemed to scowl with grim determination. Throwing off their coats, they
-dragged the dead moose aside and strove to raise Moeran's body, but in
-vain. Something held it; the right leg was broken and they found the
-foot fast fixed in a forked root the treacherous slime had concealed. In
-the right hand was firmly clutched the haft of his hunting knife, and
-in the moose's throat was the broken blade. The veteran almost smiled
-through his tears as they worked to loosen the prisoned foot, and
-muttered, "Caught like a bear in a trap; he'd have held his own with
-a fair chance." Carrying the poor, stamped, crushed body to the shade,
-they laid it upon the moss and returned to read the story of the fearful
-battle. To their hunter's eyes it read as plainly as printed page. The
-great bull, sore from his previous wound, had sought the swamp. Moeran
-had trailed him to the edge and knocked him down the first shot, and
-after reloading had run forward to bleed his prize. Just as he got
-within reach the bull had struggled up and charged, and Moeran had shot
-him through the second time. Then he had apparently dodged about in the
-sticky mud and struck the bull terrific blows with the clubbed rifle,
-breaking the stock and bending the barrel, and getting struck himself
-repeatedly by the terrible forefeet of the enraged brute. To and fro,
-with ragged clothes and torn flesh, he had dodged, the deadly muskeg
-behind and on either side, the furious bull holding the only path to the
-saving woods. At last he had entrapped his foot in the forked root, and
-the bull had rushed in and beaten him down, and as he fell he struck
-with his knife ere the tremendous weight crushed out his life. The
-veteran picked up the rifle-barrel, swept it through a pool and examined
-the action, and found a shell jammed fast.
-
-In despairing voice he said, "Oh, boys, boys, if that shell had but come
-into place our friend had won the day, but he died like the noble fellow
-he was!"
-
-With rifles and coats they made a stretcher and carried him sadly out to
-the lake.
-
-"_He would get that moose, or stay in the woods forever!_"
-
-
-
-
-THE MYSTERY OF A CHRISTMAS HUNT, By Talbot Torrance
-
-
-[Illustration: 9129]
-
-"Clug!" The wad went home in the last shell, and as I removed it from
-the loader and finished the fill of my belt I heaved a sigh of profound
-relief at the completion of a troublesome job.
-
-I hate making cartridges. Perhaps I am a novice, and have not a good
-kit, and am lazy, and clumsy, and impatient, and---- But go on and
-account for it yourself at greater length, if you will, my friends;
-only accept my solemn statement that I detest the operation, which, I
-am convinced, ought to be confined to able-bodied colored men with
-perseverance and pachydermatous knuckles.
-
-An ordinary man is always in fluster and fever before he completes
-loading up for a day's gunning. His patent plugger becomes inexplicably
-and painfully fractious; his percussions are misfits; his No. 10 wads
-prove to be No. 12s; his shot sack is sure to spill; his canister is
-certain to sustain a dump into the water pail, and, when he begins to
-reflect on all the unmentionable _lapsi lingu�_ of which his numerous
-vexations are the immediately exciting, though possibly not the
-responsible, cause, he is apt to conclude that, say what you may in
-favor of the breechloader, there are a certain few points which commend
-the old-time muzzle-loader, especially when it comes around to charging
-a shell.
-
-[Illustration: 0130]
-
-At all events, that is the kind of man I now am; and if the reader
-is not prepared to absolutely indorse me all through these crotchety
-cogitations, may I not hope he will at least bear with me patiently and
-give me time to outgrow it, if possible? But, as I was saying, I have
-charged up and am ready to sally forth and join the hunting party of the
-Blankville Gun Club, who had organized a match for Christmas Eve, a
-bright, nippy day of "an open winter"--as experienced in Northeastern
-Ontario, at any rate. I don my game bag, strap on my belt, pick up my
-newly-bought hammerless and prepare to leave the house. My cocker
-Charlie, long since cognizant of what my preparations meant, is at heel.
-
-There is a wild light in his eyes, but, self-contained animal that he
-is, not a yelp, whine or even tail wag is manifested to detract from his
-native dignity and self possession. "Native" dignity? Aye! My dog boasts
-it naturally; and yet, at the same time, I fancy the switch and I have
-had something to do in developing it and teaching the pup its apparently
-unconscious display.
-
-[Illustration: 0136]
-
-"You're no fool dog, are you, Charlie? You're no funny, festive,
-frolicsome dog, who cannot hold himself in when a run is on the
-programme--eh, boy?"
-
-The silky-coated canine knows as well as I do that he is in for an
-afternoon a-wood. He has the inclination to leap and roll and essay to
-jump out of his hide. Yet the only answer he dare give to the inquiry
-is an appealing glance from his hazel orbs up at his master's immovable
-face. Yes, my dog Charlie is sober and sensible, and I am proud of these
-characteristics and their usefulness to me before the gun.
-
-[Illustration: 0134]
-
-"Good-bye, little woman!" I sing out cheerily to my wife as I pass down
-the hall. She comes to the door to see me off. Sometimes, perhaps, a
-man will find his adieu on an occasion of this kind responded to
-uncordially, not to say frigidly, or perhaps not at all. But he must
-not grieve deeply over it or let it act as an excitative of his mean
-moroseness or angry passion. Think the thing all over. You are to be far
-away from home. Why should not the thought of the vacant chair--next to
-that of the demonstrative and exacting baby at meal time--rise up and
-sadden your wife? Can you wonder at her distant bearing as she foresees
-how she will sigh "for the touch of a vanished hand"--on the coal
-scuttle and water pail? Of course, she will "miss your welcome
-footsteps"--carrying in kindlings, and the "dear, familiar
-voice"--calling up the chickens. And so you cannot in reason expect her
-invariably to answer your kindly _adios_ in a gladsome, gleesome, wholly
-satisfied sort of way. But never you go away without the goodbye on your
-part--the honest, manly, loving-toned good-bye that will ring in her
-ears in your absence and cause her to fancy that perhaps you are not
-such a selfish old bear after all.
-
-With some of us men--only a limited few, of course, and we are not
-inclined to think over and enumerate them--it is unhappily the case
-that
-
-               We have cheerful words for the stranger,
-
-               And smiles for the sometime guest;
-
-               But oft for our own the bitter tone,
-
-               Though we love our own the best.
-
-"will miss your welcome footsteps."
-
-[Illustration: 0134]
-
-               Now, if such men only thought
-
-               How many go forth in the morning,
-
-               Who never come back at night!
-
-               And hearts are broken for harsh words spoken,
-
-               Which time may never set right,
-
-what a different atmosphere might permeate the domicile on "first days,"
-to say nothing of the rest of the time!
-
-The real fact of the matter is, men and brothers, we do not accurately
-appreciate the objections which the domestic partners may entertain
-against our occasional outings. For my part I verily believe they are
-largely, if not entirely, prompted by the feeling that
-
-               There's nae luck aboot the hoose,
-
-               There's nae luck at a'!
-
-               There's nae luck about the hoose,
-
-               Since oor guid mon's avva'.
-
-And here we go on thinking it is purely a matter of petty petulance and
-small selfishness on their part! Come, gentlemen, let us once and for
-all rightly appreciate the situation and resolve to do better in the
-future! But let us return to our sheep. My hand is on the door knob,
-when, pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat, is heard the tread of tiny feet. It is Ted,
-my little two year old, coming to say good-bye to papa. I take him up
-and sing gaily:
-
-                   Bye, baby bunting,
-
-                   Papa goes a-hunting,
-
-                   To get a little rabbit skin
-
-                   To wrap the baby bunting in.
-
-How the little man crows and gurgles in glee! Then he grows
-demonstrative and he wants to take off my cap. He makes a grab at my
-game bag. As I put him down gently he tries to disarm me and possess
-himself of the gun.
-
-I say, what an awful bother about the house of the sportsman is the
-toddling tot of a baby! He is always getting hold of your gun swab for
-a fish pole or to bang the dog about. Putting holes in your fish basket
-with a big nail or a table knife is a supreme source of delight to him.
-He has a mania for planting carpet tacks in your hunting boots. Making
-smokestacks for mud houses with your brass shells is a passion with him.
-If he can get hold of your ammunition to make paste of the powder, and
-pulp of the wads, and a hopeless mixture of the shot, he is simply in
-his element. Give him possession of your lines and access to your fly
-book and he enjoys an hour of what is, to him, immense fun, but to you
-pronounced and positive destruction.
-
-And yet--you wouldn't be without, that self-same baby if to keep him
-cost you every shooting iron and foot of tackle you ever owned or hoped
-to own, and at the same time destroyed the prospect of you ever again
-having a "day out" on this rare old earth of ours.
-
-It is quite safe to say that the article for which you would exchange
-that merry, mischievous toddler of yours, who clasps your brown neck
-with little white, soft arms and presses a sweet baby kiss to your
-bristled lips, as he sees you off on an outing, has not now an
-existence--and you do not seem to exactly remember when it had. And you
-do not care whether he destroys your possessions; they can be replaced.
-
-Yes, indeed! Even you, most inveterate and selfish and calloused votary
-of the chase--you have a tender spot in your hard old heart for the
-baby boy. He may not be all that is orderly, obedient, non-combatable,
-non-destructive, but still we all love him! Not one of us, at all
-events, but will frankly admit that we respect him--for his father's
-sake. Need anything more be said?
-
-And do not we also respect those who depict him in tenderness and
-affection?
-
-Don't we think all the more of Scanlon the actor for his inimitable
-"Peek-a-boo?" and of Charles Mackay for his "Baby Mine?" and of Bret
-Harte for his "Luck of Roaring Camp?" and of Dickens--wasn't it Dickens
-who wrote:
-
-               When the lessons and tasks all are ended,
-
-               And the school for the day is dismissed,
-
-               And the little ones gather around me
-
-               To bid me good-bye and be kissed.
-
-               Oh, the little, white arms that encircle
-
-               My neck in a tender embrace!
-
-               Oh, the smiles that are halos of Heaven
-
-               Shedding light in a desolate place!
-
-Has it ever occurred to you, my friend, that the baby is the same
-unchanged, unimproved article since the world began? Men are making
-smokeless powder, constructing pneumatic bicycle tires, inventing
-long-distance guns, training horses down to two minutes, getting
-sprinters to cover 100 yards close to nine seconds--revolutionizing
-everything, but leaving the baby the old-time brand!
-
-People seem satisfied with the original make, and far from any movement
-to abolish it as out of date. The sentiment would appear to be pretty
-universal:
-
-               Drear were the world without a child,
-
-               Where happy infant never smiled.
-
-               We sooner could the flowerets spare,
-
-               The tender bud and blossom fair,
-
-               Or breath of spring time in the air.
-
-I have said "bye-bye" to my tiny Ted half a dozen times and at last am
-about to escape during his sudden flight to another part of the
-house, when I am arrested by the eager cry, half in inquiry, half in
-jubilation, "Baby barlo! Papa, baby barlo! Dee!"
-
-There he stands, holding up my little patent flask as though he had made
-a wonderful discovery. To humor the child I took the little companion,
-said "Ta-ta," and was in the act of slipping it back to my wife, when
-I decided to keep it. I am not partial to the cup that cheers and also
-inebriates, and yet I have an appreciation of the pocket pistol that
-warms, sustains and heartens in a long tramp on a zero afternoon with
-only a dog for companionship and the chances of bagging anything much
-reduced to a minimum. I stepped to the sideboard and filled the "barlo"
-_quantum suff_.
-
-"Ah, Scrib! You're early on deck" was the grunting of the Doc. "None of
-the others are here yet. But I guess we'll not have long to wait. There
-is surely no laggard or lunkhead in our jolly sextette. On such an
-occasion as a Christmas Eve hunt, with an oyster supper at stake, the
-resources of our whole happy hunting grounds on trial, and the pluck
-and prowess of six rival sports in question there should certainly be no
-such word as 'funk!"'
-
-Even as the Doc spoke Tinker dropped in. Hardly was he seated when Shy
-puffed his way into the little smoking room. We waited five minutes for
-the Judge, and had become impatient before Budge put in an appearance.
-
-What an assortment of unique nomenclature! Gun-club designations they
-were, of course. In polite society "Scrib" was the village editor;
-"Tinker" was our general store keeper; "The Judge" was young Lawyer
-B------; "Budge" was mine host of the Queen's Arms, and the "Doc" was just
-the doctor--our large-hearted, clever, hard-working local M. D., the
-life and soul of the sport-loving community, as he was also the idol of
-the village and district for his skill, his unselfishness and his
-unvarying _bonhomie_.
-
-"Budge!" exclaims the Doc. "As president of this club I fine you----"
-
-"I rise to a point of order!" breaks in the Judge. "This meeting is not
-yet duly open, and, at all events, this is a special one, and
-business of the regular order must be excluded. Referring to the
-constitution----"
-
-"Oh, to thunder with the constitution! Let us get off on our hunt!" And
-Tinker looks annihilation at the order pointer.
-
-"Well, well, fellows," laughs the Doc, "I shall rule partially in
-favor of both. I shall rule that Budge do tell us his latest joke as a
-penalty. Come now, prisoner, out with it and save your fine!"
-
-"Say, boys," begins Budge, deprecatingly, "don't insist. I'm sorry I
-was late, but the fact is I was giving elaborate orders for the supper,
-which I know it will be just my luck to get stuck for. One of my special
-orders was to secure a magnificent roast and have it cooked in Ben
-Jonson style."
-
-"Ben Jonson style? How is that?" queries the Doc.
-
-"'O, rare Ben Jonson!' There, Mr. President," he adds, when the laugh
-ceases, "I believe that debt is squared." We have made out our list and
-fixed points, ranging from chipmunk, 1, to bear, 1,000.
-
-"You leave out quail, I notice. Now that is an omission which----"
-
-But the Judge is cut short on all sides.
-
-"Out in the wild and woolly West, from whence you have but recently
-emigrated to civilization and refinement," remarks the Doc, "quail are
-about as plentiful as hedge sparrows are here. But a quail has not been
-seen in this section for ten years, I'll venture to say. No, Judge, we
-needn't point on quail this time!"
-
-"And yet," I observe in an encouraging tone, "who knows but we may each
-and all happen on a covey."
-
-"That is extravagant. But if any man should be lucky enough to bag a
-brace, that I may enjoy one more good square meal of quail on toast,
-I'll stand the supper." And the Judge looked straight at Budge.
-
-"Now that is what I would call extravagant--supper for a whole party in
-consideration of a dish of quail on toast. Suppose you yourself should
-bag the brace. But this reminds me of the man who ordered quail on toast
-in a Boston restaurant. He was brought in some toast. He waited a while.
-Presently he called the waiter and repeated the order. 'There you are,
-sir!' answered Thomas. 'That? That is toast, of course; but where's the
-quail?' The waiter pointed to a small speck in the centre of each slice,
-looking like a baked fly. 'Ah! so this dish is quail on toast, is it?'
-'Yes, sir!' 'Then you just remove it and bring me turkey on toast!'"
-
-We draw lots for choice of directions, and fix 8 p. m. sharp for
-reassembling to compare scores. My choice fell on a due north course,
-along which, seven miles distant, lay cover where I had scarcely ever
-failed to find at least fair sport and to take game, such as it was. And
-I went it alone--barring my dog.
-
-[Illustration: 0142]
-
-Seven miles of hard footing it and I had only the brush of a couple of
-red squirrels, the wing of a chicken hawk, and the lean carcass of a
-small rabbit to show. I had sighted a fox far out of range, and had been
-taken unawares by a brace of birds which Charlie had nobly flushed and I
-had shockingly muffed.
-
-The dog had followed the birds deeper into the wood, leaving me
-angry and uncertain what to do. Suddenly I heard his yelp of rage and
-disappointment give place to his business bark, and I knew my pup had a
-tree for me. It was a sound not to be mistaken. My dog never now plays
-spoof with me by tonguing a tree for hair. His business bark means
-partridge every time. I hurried on as the dog gave tongue more sharp and
-peremptory, taking a skirt to avoid a tangled piece of underbrush as I
-began-to approach the critical spot.
-
-The ruins of an old shanty lay fifty yards to my left, and between them
-and me was a sort of _cache_ or root cellar, the sides intact but the
-roof half gone.
-
-All of a sudden there broke on my ear a sound I had not heard for many a
-day.
-
-I listened, almost dumfounded. There it is again! And no mistaking it.
-It is the pipe of a quail!
-
-It came from a patch of meadow not many rods off, and it set every
-nerve in my body a-tingling. Charlie and his partridges were out of mind
-instanter. I had no manner of use for them at that supreme moment.
-
-"It's no stray bird!" I mentally ejaculated. "Perhaps it's a regular
-Kansas covey!" Heavens, what luck! The boys--the Judge--quail on
-toast--the laugh--the amazement--the consternation--I conjured all these
-things up in my excited brain in less time than it takes to tell it.
-
-I started forward with every fibre a-tension. I was wild to get even a
-glimpse of the little strangers.
-
-[Illustration: 0144]
-
-Suddenly--enough almost to puzzle me--the pipe was answered from the
-mouth of the old potato pit, and the next instant "whir-r-r-r!" rose the
-birds, and "bang! bang!" I gave them right and left at a range and with
-a calculation that left three only to join and tell the tale to the
-whistler in the meadow. Seven was the drop, and the birds were as plump
-and pretty as ever I had set eyes on. I fairly chuckled aloud in glee
-at the surprise I had in store for my club mates. I sat down, took a
-congratulatory nip, and actually toyed with the quail as a boy would
-with the first fruits of his initial day's outing with his own boughten
-gun!
-
-My faithful dog Charlie had during this time stuck to his birds. I could
-hear his angry bark growing angrier, and I could detect, as I fancied,
-a shade of impatience and disappointment therein. A crack at a partridge
-will be a change, I thought, and so I hurried in Charlie's direction.
-
-There he sat on a rotten stump, with eyes fixed on the brushy top of a
-dead pine.
-
-I looked that top over, limb by limb, but not a sign of a feather could
-I detect. I made a circuit, and skinned every twig aloft in a vain
-endeavor to discover a roosting bird. I began to think the pup was daft,
-but I dismissed the reflection promptly as ungenerous and unfair to my
-trusty cocker. I make solemn affidavit that, though I could not note the
-suggestion of a partridge up that pine, my spaniel could see it as plain
-as a pike staff.
-
-"I'll climb the stump!" said I. _Mirabile dictu!_ There, on lower limbs,
-one above the other and hugging the bark so close that they seemed part
-of it, were my missed brace!
-
-"Bang!" and the topmost tumbles, nearly knocking his mate off as he
-falls.
-
-"Bang!" and down comes No. 2.
-
-[Illustration: 8146]
-
-Charlie manifests a sense of relieved anxiety and satisfaction that of
-itself rewards me for the perplexing search.
-
-But a drowsiness had been creeping over me till its influence had
-become almost irresistible. I felt stupid and sleep-inclined.
-
-Almost without knowing what I did I pulled out my flask, poured "just a
-nip" a fair portion in the cup and drank it off. The twilight was
-coming on and casting its sombre shadows, _avant coureurs_ of the black
-winter night that was soon to envelop the scene for a brief while, till
-fair Luna lit up the heavens and chased Darkness to its gloomy lair.
-
-I have an indistinct recollection of recalling lines I have read
-somewhere or other:
-
-               When Life's last sun is sinking slow and sad,
-
-                   How cold and dark its lengthened shadows
-
-                        fall.
-
-                   They lie extended on the straightened path
-
-                   Whose narrow close, the grave, must end it
-
-                        all.
-
-               Oh, Life so grudging in your gifts, redeem
-
-                   By one great boon the losses of the Past!
-
-               Grant me a full imperishable Faith,
-
-                   And let the Light be with me till the last.
-
-Then all became a blank!
-
-* * * * *
-
-"Full? I never knew him to more than taste liquor. No, no! You're
-mistaken. He has either been knocked senseless by some accident or
-mischance, or else he has fallen in a fit."
-
-It was the Doc who spoke. I suddenly grew seized of consciousness to the
-extent of recognizing my old friend's voice. But to indicate the fact
-physically was impossible. I lay in a sort of trance, with lips that
-would not open and hands that would not obey.
-
-"Oh, all right, Doc! You ought to know!"
-
-This time I caught the voice of the Judge.
-
-"But he is in a pitiable plight. We must get to him and move him or he
-may perhaps perish, if he's not gone now. Drat that dog! I don't want
-to shoot him; and yet he'll tear us if we try to lay hand on his master.
-But lay hand on him we must. Is it a go, Doc?"
-
-"It's the only alternative, Judge. I like canine fidelity; but hang me
-if this brute doesn't suit too well! We'll have to get him out of the
-way and succor the man. Give it to him, Judge!"
-
-"Stop!"
-
-By a superhuman effort, through some agency I never could account for,
-I managed to utter that one word in a sort of half expostulatory, half
-authoritative tone, or rather groan.
-
-[Illustration: 0148]
-
-It broke the spell.
-
-My eyes opened. My arms regained power. Instinctively I reached out a
-hand and drew my canine guardian toward me, placing a cheek against his
-cold, moist nose. That was enough for Charlie. The faithful brute grew
-wild with joy. He barked, whined, jumped, capered, pirouetted after his
-own stump, and, in a word, did the most tremendous despite to all my
-careful training in the line of reserved and dignified demeanor.
-
-I rose to a sitting posture and finally drew myself up on my feet,
-gazing around me in a bewildered, uncertain sort of way.
-
-"Hello, boys, what's the matter?" I managed to articulate.
-
-"Hello, and what's the matter yourself?" replied the Doc.
-
-"Yes, that's precisely what we came out here to know," put in the Judge.
-
-"I guess--I think--yes, let me see!--I believe I--I--must have dropped
-off in a little doze, boys! Very kind of you to look me up. Only--say,
-you never surely meant to shoot my dog? I'd have haunted both of you
-to your respective dying days if you had, supposing I was a cold corpse
-instead of a man taking a little nap."
-
-"Taking a little nap! Hear him! I should rather say you were. But, look
-here, Scrib, do your little naps always mean two or three hours of the
-soundest sleep a man ever slept who wasn't dead or drugged?"
-
-"Dead or drugged, Doc? Pshaw, you're away off. You can see for yourself
-I am not dead, and I can vow I wasn't drugged."
-
-"Then you've been intoxicated, by George; and as president of the
-Blank-ville Gun Club I'll fine you----"
-
-"Quail, as I live!"
-
-"One--two--three; three brace and a half, Doc, and beauties, too! It
-does my heart good to handle the darlings. Doc, if Scrib has been full
-forty times to-day, he has more than atoned for the _lapsi_ with this
-glorious bag. Whoop! Ya, ha! There'll be quail on toast for the whole
-party."
-
-By the time the Judge's jubilation had ceased I had about regained my
-normal condition and we were ready to make tracks homeward.
-
-The clock strikes the midnight hour as I re-enter my own home. My wife
-sits rocking the cradle, in which lies our darling Ted. She turns a
-weary-looking, tear-stained face to me.
-
-"Its all right, dear," I gently remark, "I'm quite safe, as you see."
-
-"I haven't the slightest doubt of it, sir," she returns, icily. "It's
-not of you I've been thinking, but of baby."
-
-"Baby," I repeat inquiringly. "What is the matter with him?"
-
-"There is nothing the matter with him, but there is no telling what
-might have been. And all owing to your foolish indulgence of his fancy
-for bottles."
-
-"What does it mean, dear?" I venture. "It means that you had not been
-gone an hour when I found Ted with that little two-ounce phial you left
-half filled with laudanum on the lower pantry shelf yesterday. He had
-evidently climbed a chair and reached it down. The cork was out and the
-bottle was empty. You can perhaps imagine my feelings. I didn't know
-whether he had taken the stuff or not, but was in an agony of anxiety on
-the point, you may be sure. The doctor was away hunting, you were away
-hunting, and here was I fairly consumed with apprehension lest my baby
-had poisoned himself."
-
-Like a flash the whole mystery of my stupor sleep revealed itself to
-me. "Baby barlo"--flask--laudanum phial--whiskey--it was all as clear as
-day.
-
-I said: "But it transpires he hadn't taken any of the laudanum, eh?"
-
-"Yes, thank Heaven! But for all of you-----"
-
-"Listen, please. All I want to say is that what Ted missed I got. Do you
-understand?"
-
-"Do _I_ understand! Are _you_ in your sane and sober senses, William?"
-
-"I have a shrewd suspicion that I am," I replied, with a slight laugh,
-"and being so, I will repeat it: Baby didn't down the poison; but I
-guess I made up for that, because _I did!_"
-
-Then I told her the story.
-
-Of course I gained my point. It ended with---- but, no matter. The Judge
-stood the supper in consideration of quail on toast being incorporated
-in the menu, and we sat around the festive board in the Queen's Arms
-a week later, and talked over our Xmas Eve hunting match. No one was
-disposed to question the sentiment in a speech by the Doc, who declared:
-"Fellows, our prowess as a gun club is growing, and I verily believe
-the old district is getting to be once more something like a half-decent
-hunting ground. Let us keep together, be as men and brothers always,
-and--I was nearly overlooking it--let us invariably wash out our pocket
-pistols before filling 'em up afresh."
-
-
-
-
-HERNE THE HUNTER, By William Perry Brown
-
-
-|Herne the Hunter was tall, brown and grizzled. The extreme roundness
-of his shoulders indicated strength rather than infirmity, while
-the severing of his great neck at a blow would have made a feudal
-executioner famous in his craft. An imaginative man might have divined
-something comely beneath the complex conjunction of lines and ridges
-that made up his features, but it would have been more by suggestion,
-however, than by any actual resemblance to beauty traceable thereon. The
-imprint of strength, severity and endurance was intensified by an open
-contempt of appearance; only to a subtle second-sight was revealed aught
-nobler, sweeter and sadder, like faint stars twinkling behind filmy
-clouds.
-
-Some town-bred Nimrod, with a misty Shakespearean memory, had added to
-his former patronymic of "Old Herne" that of Windsor's ghostly visitor.
-The mountaineers saw the fitness of the title, and "Herne the Hunter"
-became widely current.
-
-His place of abode was as ambiguous as his history, being somewhere
-beyond the "Dismal," amid the upper caves and gorges of the Nantahalah.
-The Dismal was a weird, wild region of brake and laurel, walled in by
-lonely mountains, with a gruesome outlet between two great cliffs,
-that nearly met in mid-air hundreds of feet over a sepulchral Canyon,
-boulder-strewn, and thrashed by a sullen torrent, that led from a
-dolorous labyrinth, gloomy at midday, and at night resonant with fierce
-voices and sad sighings.
-
-Far down in Whippoorwill Cove, the mountaineers told savage tales of
-adventure about the outskirts of the Dismal, yet, beyond trapping
-round the edges or driving for deer, it was to a great extent a _terra
-incognita_ to all, unless Herne the Hunter was excepted.
-
-"The devil air in the man, 'nd hopes him out'n places no hones' soul
-keers to pester hisse'f long of."
-
-This was common opinion, though a few averred that "Old Herne 'nd the
-devil wern't so master thick atter all." Said one: "Why, the dinged old
-fool totes his Bible eroun' ez riglar ez he do his huntin'-shirt. Onct
-when the parson wuz holdin' the big August meetin' down ter Ebeneezer
-Meetin'-house, he stepped in. The meetin' was a gittin' ez cold ez hen's
-feet, 'nd everybody a lookin' at Herne the Hunter, when down he draps
-onto his knees, 'nd holdin' on by his rifle he 'gun ter pray like a
-house afire. Wal, he prayed 'nd he prayed, 'twel the people, arter thur
-skeer wuz over, 'gun ter pray 'nd shout too, 'nd fust they all knowed,
-the front bench wuz plum full of mou'ners. Wal, they hed a hog-killin'
-time fur a while, 'nd all sot on by Herne the Hunter, but when they
-quieted down 'nd begun ter luk fer him--by jing!--he wern't thar. Nobody
-hed seed him get erway, 'nd that set 'em ter thinkin', 'nd the yupshot
-wuz they hed the bes' meetin' old Ebeneezer hed seed in many a year."
-
-Once a belated hunter discovered, when the fog came down, that he was
-lost amid the upper gorges of the Nantahalahs. While searching for some
-cranny wherein to pass the night, he heard a voice seemingly in mid-air
-before him, far out over an abyss of seething vapor which he feared
-concealed a portion of the dreaded Dismal. Memories of Herne the Hunter
-crowded upon him, and he strove to retrace his steps, but fell into a
-trail that led him to a cave which seemed to bar his further way. The
-voice came nearer; his blood chilled as he distinguished imprecations,
-prayers and entreaties chaotically mingled, and all the while
-approaching him. He fled into the cave, and peering thence, beheld a
-shadowy form loom through the mist, gesticulating as it came.
-
-A whiff blew aside shreds of the fog, and he saw Herne the Hunter on the
-verge of a dizzy cliff, shaking his long rifle, his hair disheveled, his
-eyes dry and fiery, and his huge frame convulsed by the emotions that
-dominated him. The very fury and pathos of his passion were terrifying,
-and the watcher shrank back as old Herne, suddenly dropping his rifle,
-clutched at the empty air, then paused dejectedly.
-
-"Always thus!" he said, in a tone of deep melancholy. "Divine in
-form--transfigured--beautiful--oh, so beautiful!--yet ever with the same
-accursed face. I have prayed over these visitations. I, have sought in
-God's word that confirmation of my hope which should yet save me from
-despair; but, when rising from my supplications, the blest
-vision confronts me--the curse is ever there--thwarting its
-loveliness--reminding me of what was, but will never be again."
-
-He drew a tattered Bible from his bosom and searched it intently. He was
-a sight at once forbidding and piteous, as he stood with wind-fluttered
-garments, his foot upon the edge of a frightful precipice, his head bent
-over the book as though devouring with his eyes some sacred antidote
-against the potency of his sorrow. Then he looked up, and the Bible fell
-from his hands. His eyes became fixed; he again clutched at the air,
-then fell back with a despairing gesture, averting his face the while.
-
-"Out of my sight!" he cried. "Your eyes are lightning, and your smile is
-death. I will have no more of you--no more! And yet--O God! O God!--what
-dare I--what can I do without you?"
-
-He staggered back and made directly for the cavern. The watcher shrank
-back, while Herne the Hunter brushed blindly by, leaving Bible and rifle
-on the rock without. Then the wanderer, slipping out, fled down the
-narrow trail as though there were less peril from the dizzy cliffs
-around than in the society of the strange man whose fancies peopled
-these solitudes with such soul-harrowing phantoms.
-
-Thus for years Herne the Hunter had been a mystery, a fear, and a
-fascination to the mountaineers; recoiling from men, abhorring women,
-rebuffing curiosity, yet' at times strangely tender, sad, and ever
-morbidly religious. He clung to his Bible as his last earthly refuge
-from his darker self, and to the aspirations it engendered as a bane to
-the fatalistic stirrings within him.
-
-He was a mighty hunter and lived upon the proceeds of his skill. Once
-or twice a year he would appear at some mountain store, fling down a
-package of skins, and demand its worth in powder and lead. The jean-clad
-loungers would regard him askance, few venturing to idly speak with
-him, and none repeating the experiment. His mien daunted the boldest. If
-women were there he would stand aloof until they left; on meeting them
-in the road he would sternly avert his eyes as though from a distasteful
-presence. One day the wife of a storekeeper, waiting on him in her
-husband's absence, ventured to say, while wrapping up his purchases:
-
-"I've all'ays wonnered, Mr. Herne, what makes ye wanter git outen the
-wimmen folks' way? Mos' men likes ter have 'em eroun'."
-
-Herne the Hunter frowned heavily, but made no reply.
-
-"I'm shore, if ye had a good wife long with ye way up thar whur ye
-live, she'd make ye a leetle more like a man 'nd less like a--a--" she
-hesitated over a term which might censure yet not give offense.
-
-"Like a beast you would say." He exclaimed then with vehemence: "Were
-the necks of all women in one, and had I my hands on it, I'd strangle
-them all, though hell were their portion thereafter."
-
-He made a gesture as of throttling a giant, snatched his bundle from the
-woman's hand and took himself off up the road with long strides.
-
-*****
-
-That night was a stormy one. Herne the Hunter was covering the last ten
-miles between him and the Dismal in a pelting rain. The incident at the
-store, trivial as it was, had set his blood aflame. He prayed and fought
-against himself, oblivious of the elements and the darkness, sheltering
-his powder beneath his shirt of skins where his Bible lay secure. In his
-ears was the roar of wind and the groans of the tortured forest. Dark
-ravines yawned beside him, out of which the wolf howled and the mountain
-owl laughed; and once came a scream like a child, yet stronger and more
-prolonged. He knew the panther's voice, yet he heeded nothing.
-
-At last another cry, unmistakably human, rose nearer by. Then he paused,
-like a hound over a fresher scent, until it was repeated. He made his
-way around a shoulder of the mountain, and aided by the gray light of a
-cloud-hidden moon, approached the figures of a woman, a boy and a horse,
-all three dripping and motionless.
-
-"Thank God! we will not die here, after all," exclaimed the female, as
-Herne the Hunter grimly regarded them. "Oh, sir, we have missed the
-way. This boy was guiding me to the survey camp of Captain Renfro, my
-husband, on the upper Swananoa. He has sprained his foot, and we have
-been lost for hours. Can you take us to a place of shelter? I will pay
-you well--"
-
-"I hear a voice from the pit," said Herne, fiercely. "It is the way with
-your sex. You think, though you sink the world, that with money you can
-scale Heaven. Stay here--rot--starve--perish--what care I!"
-
-After this amazing outburst he turned away, but her terror of the night
-overbore her fear of this strange repulse, and she grasped his arm. He
-shook himself free, though the thrill accompanying her clasp staggered
-him. For years no woman's hand had touched him; but at this rebuff she
-sank down, crying brokenly:
-
-"What shall I do? I should not have started. They warned me below, but I
-thought the boy knew the way. Oh, sir! if you have a heart, do not leave
-us here."
-
-"A heart!" he cried. "What's that? A piece of flesh that breeds endless
-woes in bosoms such as yours. All men's should be of stone--as mine
-is now!" He paused, then said abruptly: "Up with you and follow me. I
-neither pity nor sympathize; but for the sake of her who bore me, I will
-give you such shelter as I have."
-
-He picked up the boy, who, knowing him, had sat stupefied with fear, and
-bade the woman follow him.
-
-"But the horse?" she said, hesitating.
-
-"Leave it," he replied. "The brute is the best among you, but whither we
-go no horse may follow."
-
-He turned, taking up the boy in his arms, and she dumbly followed him,
-trembling, faint, yet nerved by her fears to unusual exertion. So rapid
-was his gait, encumbered though he was, that she kept him in view with
-difficulty. Through the gloom she could divine the perils that environed
-their ever upward way. The grinding of stricken trees, the brawl of
-swollen waters harrowed her nerves not less than the partial gleams
-of unmeasured heights and depths revealed by the lightning. A sense of
-helplessness exaggerated these terrors among the unknown possibilities
-surrounding her.
-
-It seemed as though they would never stop again. Her limbs trembled, her
-heart thumped suffocatingly, yet their guide gave no heed, but pressed
-on as though no shivering woman pantingly dogged his steps. They
-traveled thus for several miles. She felt herself giving way totally
-when, on looking up once more, she saw that the hunter had vanished.
-
-"Where am I?" she cried, and a voice, issuing seemingly out of the
-mountain-side, bade her come on. Her hands struck a wall of rock; on her
-right a precipice yawned; so, groping toward the left, she felt as she
-advanced that she was leaving the outer air; the wind and rain no longer
-beat upon her, yet the darkness was intense.
-
-She heard the voice of the boy calling upon her to keep near. Into the
-bowels of the mountains she felt her way until a gleam of light shone
-ahead. She hastened forward round a shoulder of rock into a roomy
-aperture branching from the main cavern. The boy lay upon a pallet of
-skins, while Herne the Hunter fixed the flaring pine-knot he had lighted
-into a crevice of the rock. Then he started a fire, drew out of another
-crevice some cold cooked meat and filled a gourd with water from a
-spring that trickled out at one end of the cave.
-
-"Eat," he said, waving his hand. "Eat--that ye may not die. The more
-unfit to live, the less prepared for death. Eat!"
-
-With that he turned away and busied himself in bathing and bandaging the
-boy's foot, which, though not severely sprained, was for the time quite
-painful. Mrs. Renfro now threw back the hood of her waterproof and laid
-the cloak aside. Even old Herne--women hater that he was--could not
-have found fault with the matronly beauty of her face, unless with its
-expression of self-satisfied worldliness, as of one who judged others
-and herself solely by conventional standards, shaped largely by flattery
-and conceit.
-
-She was hungry--her fears were somewhat allayed, and though rather
-disgusted at such coarse diet, ate and drank with some relish.
-Meanwhile, Herne the Hunter turned from the boy for something, and
-beheld her face for the first time. A water-gourd fell from his hands,
-his eyes dilated, and he crouched as he gazed like a panther before its
-unsuspecting prey. Every fibre of his frame quivered, and drops of cold
-sweat stood out upon his forehead. The boy saw with renewed fear this
-new phase of old Herne's dreaded idiosyncrasies. Mrs. Renfro at length
-raised her eyes and beheld him thus. Instantly he placed his hands
-before his face, and abruptly left the cavern. Alarmed at his
-appearance, she ran toward the boy, exclaiming:
-
-"What _can_ be the matter with him? Do you know him?"
-
-"I knows more of him 'n I wants ter," replied the lad. "Oh, marm, that's
-old Herne, 'nd we uns air the fust ones ez hev be'n in hyar whar he
-stays. I ganny! I thort shore he'd hev yeaten ye up."
-
-"Well, but who is he?"
-
-"Well, they do say ez the devil yowns him, not but what he air
-powerful 'ligyus. No one knows much 'bouten him, 'cep'n' he's all'ays a
-projeckin' eround the Dismal whar no one yelse wants ter be."
-
-"Has he been here long?"
-
-"Yurs 'nd yurs, they say." Tommy shook his head as though unable to
-measure the years during which Herne the Hunter had been acquiring his
-present unsavory reputation, but solved the riddle by exclaiming: "I
-reckon he hev all'ays be'n that-a-way."
-
-An hour or more passed. Tommy fell asleep, while the lady sat musing by
-his side. She did not feel like sleeping, though much fatigued. Finally
-she heard a deep sigh behind her, and turning saw the object of her
-fears regarding her sombrely. The sight of her face appeared to shock
-him, for he turned half away as he said:
-
-"You have eaten the food that is the curse of life, in that it sustains
-it. Yet such we are. Sleep, therefore, for you have weary miles to go,
-ere you can reach the Swananoa."
-
-There was an indescribable sadness in his tone that touched her, and she
-regarded him curiously.
-
-"Who are you," she asked, "and why do you choose to live in such a place
-as this?"
-
-"Ask naught of me," he said, with an energy he seemed unable to repress.
-"Ask rather of yourself who am I and how came I--thus."
-
-He struck himself upon the breast, and without awaiting an answer again
-abruptly left the cave. She sat there wondering, trying to-weave into
-definite shape certain vague impressions suggested by his presence,
-until weariness overcame her and she slept.
-
-Hours after, Herne the Hunter reentered the cave, bearing a torch. His
-garments were wet, the rain-drops clung to his hair, and his face was
-more haggard than ever. He advanced towards the slumbering woman softly,
-and stood over her, gazing mournfully upon her, while large tears rolled
-down his cheeks. Then his expression changed to one that was stern and
-vindictive. His hand nervously toyed with the knife in his belt. Milder
-thoughts again seemed to sway him, and his features worked twitchingly.
-
-"I cannot, I cannot," he whispered to himself. "The tears I thought
-forever banished from these eyes return at this sight. There has never
-been another who could so move me. Though thou hast been my curse, and
-art yet my hell--I cannot do it. Come! protector of my soul; stand thou
-between me and all murderous thoughts!"
-
-He drew his Bible from his bosom, kissed it convulsively, then held it
-as though to guard her from himself, and drawing backward slowly, he
-again fled into the storm and darkness without.
-
-*****
-
-The gray light of morning rose over the Dismal, though within the cave
-the gloom still reigned supreme, when Herne the Hunter again stood at
-the entrance holding a flaring light. Then he said aloud: "Wake, you
-that sleep under the shadow of death! Wake, eat, and--pass on!" Mrs.
-Renfro aroused herself. The boy, however, slept on. Herne fixed
-his torch in the wall, and replenished the fire. Then he withdrew,
-apparently to give the lady privacy in making her toilet.
-
-She was stiff in limb and depressed in mind. After washing at the
-spring, she wandered listlessly about the cave, surveying old Herne's
-scanty store of comforts. Suddenly she paused before a faded picture,
-framed in long, withered moss, that clung to an abutment of the rock.
-It was that of a girl, fair, slender and ethereal. There was a wealth of
-hair, large eyes, and features so faultless that the witching sense of
-self-satisfaction permeating them, added to rather than marred their
-loveliness.
-
-The lady--glancing indifferently--suddenly felt a thrill and a pain.
-A deadly sense of recognition nearly overcame her, as this
-memento--confronting her like a resurrected chapter of the past--made
-clear the hitherto inexplicable behavior of their host. She recovered,
-and looked upon it tenderly, then shook her head gently and sighed.
-
-"You cannot recognize it!" said a deep voice behind her. "You dare
-not! For the sake of your conscience--your hope in heaven--your fear of
-hell--you dare not recognize and look upon me!"
-
-She did not look round, though she knew that Herne the Hunter stood
-frowning behind, but trembled in silence as he went on with increasing
-energy:
-
-"What does that face remind you of? See you aught beneath that beauty
-but treachery without pity, duplicity without shame? Lo! the pity and
-the shame you should have felt have recoiled upon me--me, who alone have
-suffered." He broke off abruptly, as though choked by emotion. She dared
-not face him; she felt incapable of a reply. After a pause, he resumed,
-passionately: "Oh! Alice, Alice! The dead rest, yet the living dead can
-only endure. Amid these crags, and throughout the solitude of years, I
-have fought and refought the same old battle; but with each victory it
-returns upon me, strengthened by defeat, while with me all grows weaker
-but the remorselessness of memory and the capacity for pain."
-
-She still stood, with bowed head, shivering as though his words were
-blows.
-
-"Have you nothing to say?" he asked. "Does that picture of your own
-youth recall no vanished tenderness for one who--self-outcast of
-men--fell to that pass through you?"
-
-"I have a husband," she murmured, almost in a whisper.
-
-"Aye, and because of that husband I have no wife--no wife--no wife!"
-His wailing repetition seemed absolutely heartbroken; but sternly he
-continued: "You have told me where he is. I say to you--hide
-him--hide him from me! Even this"--he struck his bosom with his Bible
-feverishly--"may not save him. I have prayed and wrought, but it is as
-nothing--nothing--when I think--when I remember. Therefore, hide him
-from me--lest I slay him--"
-
-"You would not--you dare not harm him!" She faced him now, a splendid
-picture of an aroused wife and mother. "He is not to blame--he knew you
-not--he has been good to me--and--and--I love him."
-
-He shrank from the last words as though from a blow, and stood cowering.
-Then he hissed out:
-
-"Let me not find him. Hide him--hide him!"
-
-Tommy here awoke with a yawn, and announced that his foot was about
-well. Herne, closing his lips, busied himself about preparing breakfast,
-which cheerless meal was eaten in silence. When they finally emerged
-from the cave the sun was peeping into the Dismal below them; bright
-gleams chased the dark shadows down the cliffs, and the morning mists
-were melting. The storm was over; there was a twitter of birds, the
-tinkle of an overflowing burn, and a squirrel's bark emphasizing the
-freshness of the morn. The pure air entered the lips like wine, and Mrs.
-Renfro felt her depression roll off as they retraced the devious trail
-of the night before.
-
-They found the lady's horse standing dejectedly near where he had been
-left. The fog, in vast rolls, was climbing out of the Dismal, disclosing
-dark masses of forest below. The flavor of pine and balsam slept
-beneath the trees, every grass blade was diamond-strewn, and every sound
-vivified by the sense of mighty walls and unsounded depths.
-
-After Mrs. Renfro had mounted, Herne the Hunter swept an arm around. The
-scene was savage and sombre, despite the sunlight. The intensity of the
-solitude about them dragged upon the mind like a weight.
-
-"Behold," he said sadly, "this is my world. I can tolerate no other."
-
-She inwardly shuddered; then a wave of old associations swept over her
-mind. Beneath the austerity of the man, beyond his selfish nurture of
-affliction, she--for the moment--remembered him as he once was, homely,
-kindly, enthusiastic and true. Had _she_ indeed changed him to this? Or
-was it not rather the imperativeness of a passion, unable to endure
-or forget her preference of another? Whatever the cause, her heart now
-ached for him, though she feared him.
-
-"Come with us," she said. "You were not made to live thus."
-
-"I cannot--I dare not. It will take months to undo the misery of this
-meeting."
-
-"My husband--"
-
-"Do not name him!" he cried fiercely; then abruptly lowering his tone,
-he said, with infinite sadness: "Ask me no more. Yonder, by that white
-cliff, lies the Swan-anoa trail you missed yesterday. The kindest thing
-you can do is to forget that you have seen me. Farewell!"
-
-He turned away and swung himself down the mountain-side into the Dismal.
-She saw the rolling mists close over him, and remained motionless in a
-reverie so deep that the boy spoke twice to her before she turned her
-horse's head and followed him.
-
-* * * * *
-
-Above the surveyor's camp lay the Swananoa Gap, a gloomy, precipitous
-gorge through which the river lashed itself into milder reaches below.
-Mrs. Renfro found her husband absent. With a single assistant he had
-started for the upper defiles, intending to be gone several days. They
-told her that he would endeavor to secure the services of Herne the
-Hunter as a guide, as one knowing more of that wilderness than any one
-else.
-
-Here was fresh food for wifely alarm. Herne had never met her husband,
-yet the latter's name would make known his relationship to herself. She
-shuddered over the possibilities that might result from their sojourn
-together--far from aid--in those wild mountains, and made herself
-wretched for a week in consequence.
-
-Meanwhile the transient fine weather passed; the rains once more
-descended, and the peaks of Nantahalah were invisible for days amid a
-whirl of vapor. The boom of the river, the grinding of forest limbs,
-the shriek of the wind, made life unusually dreary at the camp. She lay
-awake one night when the elements were apparently doing their worst. Her
-husband was still absent--perhaps alone with a possible maniac, raving
-over the memory of fancied wrongs.
-
-Finally another sound mingled with and at last overmastered all
-others--something between a crash and a roar, interblended with
-sullen jars and grindings. Near and nearer it came. She sprang to the
-tent-floor and found her feet in the water. The darkness was intense.
-What could be the matter? Fear overcame her resolution and she shrieked
-aloud.
-
-A man bearing a lantern burst into the tent with a hoarse cry. Its
-gleams showed her Herne the Hunter, drenched, draggled, a ghastly cut
-across his face, with the blood streaming down, his long hair flying,
-and in his eyes a fierce flame.
-
-"I feared I would not find you," he shouted, for the roar without was
-now appalling. "It is a cloud-burst above. In five minutes this hollow
-will be fathoms deep. The tents lower down are already gone. Come!"
-
-He had seized and was bearing her out.
-
-"Save--alarm the others!" she cried.
-
-"You first--Alice."
-
-In that dread moment she detected the hopelessness with which he called
-her thus, as though such recognition was wrung from his lips by the pain
-he hugged, even while it rended him.
-
-"My husband?" she gasped, growing faint over the thought of his possible
-peril--or death.
-
-"Safe," he hissed through his clenched teeth, for his exertions were
-tremendous. With a fierce flap the tent was swept away as they left
-it. About his knees the waters swirled, while limbs and other floating
-d�bris swept furiously by.
-
-What seemed to her minutes--though really seconds--passed amid a
-terrific jumble of sounds, while the rain fell in sheets. It seemed
-as though the invisible mountains were dissolving. They were, however,
-slowly rising above the floods. She heard Herne's hard breathing, and
-felt his wild heart-throbs as he held her close. Something heavy struck
-them, or rather him, for he shielded her. One of his arms fell limp, and
-he groaned heavily. Then she swooned away, with a fleeting sensation of
-being grasped by some one else.
-
-Later, when she revived, there was a great hush in the air. Below, the
-river gently brawled-; there was a misty darkness around, and the gleam
-of a lantern held before a dear and familiar form.
-
-"Husband--is it you?" she murmured.
-
-"Yes, yes," said Captain Renfro, "I thought I had lost you. You owe
-your life to Herne the Hunter. In fact, but for him I would have been
-overwhelmed myself."
-
-"Where is he?" she asked feebly.
-
-"The men are searching for him. Just as one of them got hold of you, he
-fell back--something must have struck him, and the flood swept him off.
-I tell you, Alice, that man--crazy or not--is a hero. We were on our way
-down and had camped above the Gap, when the cloud-burst came. We knew
-you all would be overwhelmed before we could get round here by the
-trail; so what does Herne do but send us on horseback by land, while
-he scoots down that Canyon in a canoe--little better than an eggshell.
-Risked his life in that awful place to get here in time. I insisted on
-going with him at first."
-
-"Just like you, George," said the wife fondly, though in her mind's eye
-came a vision of Herne the Hunter battling with that Niagara to save
-and unite the two, through whom his own life had been made a burden. She
-sighed and clasped her husband's hand, while he resumed:
-
-"I was a fool, I expect, for the canoe would have swamped under both of
-us. He knew this, and ordered me off with a look I did not like;
-there was madness in it. Well, we hurried round by the trail with, one
-lantern; Herne took the other. When we got here, you were apparently
-dead, Herne and two of the men swept off--the camp gone from below, and
-so on."
-
-A cry was now heard. Several men hastened down, and soon lights were
-seen returning. Four of them bore Herne the Hunter. One arm and a leg
-were broken, and his skull crushed in; yet the wonderful vitality of the
-man had kept him alive and sensible.
-
-"We found him clinging to a sapling," said one. "But he's about
-gone--poor fellow!"
-
-Poor fellow, indeed! Mrs. Renfro felt the lumps rise in her throat as
-she gazed upon that wreck, and thought. Presently Herne opened his
-eyes--already filling with the death-mist--and his gaze fell upon her
-face.
-
-"Alice," he whispered, "my troubles--are over. This"--he tugged at
-something in his bosom with his uninjured arm, when some one drew forth
-his Bible, drenched and torn--"this saved me. I could have killed him--"
-he glanced at Renfro, who amid his pity now wondered. "I could--but--I
-saved you. And--now--Jesus--have mercy--"
-
-These were his last words, for in another minute Herne the Hunter was a
-thing of the past, and a weeping woman bent over him. After that there
-was silence for a while. Then the wife said to her husband, while the
-others removed the dead man:
-
-"It was his misfortune, not my fault, that he loved me. Has he not made
-amends?"
-
-And the husband, with his hands clasped in hers, could find no other
-heart than to say:
-
-"Aye--most nobly!"
-
-
-
-
-UNCLE DUKE'S "B'AR" STORY, By Lillian Gilfillan
-
-
-|I 'LOWED ez mebbe you uns ud like ter hear thet thar b'ar story. I
-reckon it's ten year this December since it all happened. I war a-livin'
-up in thet house on th' edge uv th' corn fiel' 'long side th' branch,
-an' ef it 't'warn't fer thet b'ar I'd be a-livin' thar yet, 'stead uv
-a-settin' in th' warm corner uv Jim Ladd's fireplace.
-
-I 'low ez yer knowed Jim didn't hev no great sight uv worldly efects
-when he married Becky Crabtree; I don't reckon his daddy war able ter do
-much fer him, 'ceptin' 'lowin' him the use uv thet yoke uv ole steers uv
-his'n.
-
-Thet war afore they moved th' mill out'n th' holler yander, so it war
-right handy fer Jim ter haul his logs ter, an' he jes' worked hisse'f
-plumb nigh ter death a-gettin' up thet leetle log house uv his'n, an'
-a-plantin' fruit trees an' sech, an' all summer Becky worked jes' ez
-hard a-berry pickin', tendin' her truck patch an' a-peddlin' up ter th'
-station.
-
-An' in th' winter time when Jim war a-makin' dish shelves an' a-puttin'
-some new splits inter th' bottoms uv them ole chiers his daddy give him,
-Becky war a-peecin' quilts an' a-spinnin' cloth fer dresses. Waal, in
-th' spring they war married an' went ter live in ther house on th' side
-uv th' mounting, out'n no neighbors, 'ceptin' me, fer a mile or more
-down th' cove.
-
-Thet war th' spring I war tuck so bad with this misery in my back an'
-afore summer I war so cript up I warn't no 'count whatever.
-
-One mornin' jes' ez I war a gettin' up from afore the fire whar I hed
-been a-eatin' a snack uv breakfast, Becky walked in, lookin' ez fresh ez
-a fiel' uv early corn, and sez:
-
-"Uncle Duke, I 'lowed I'd come in an' see how you war an' rid up a
-leetle fur yer."
-
-I h'ant never been used ter wimen folks, an' I could'nt git th' consent
-uv my mind ter set by an' see every thin' pot out'n its nat'ral place,
-so I reched my stick an' out'n sayin' nothin' I riz up an' went out
-under th' big gum tree.
-
-It warn't long afore Becky kem out with her bucket on her arm, an' sez:
-
-"Good-bye, Uncle Duke. I reckon I'll be a-gittin' along ter th' berry
-patch yan-der."
-
-I sed, "Thank yer, Becky. Don't yer come no more ter tend ter me. I 'low
-you's got a plenty ter do 'out'n a-doin' thet."
-
-Yer see, I didn't want ter be pestered with her fixin', yit she was so
-obleegin' ter everybody I didn't want ter 'fend her by axin' her ter
-stay ter hum. Waal, when I went in an' seed how piert things looked, I
-jes' wished I'd a-kep' my pipe in my mouth 'stead uv a-jawin' her. Spite
-uv my sayin' time an' ag'in fer her ter rest when her own work war done,
-she kep' a-comin'. I 'lowed she seed how much I enjoyed havin' things
-liken white folks lived in the house.
-
-I 'low she war jes' ez bright an' happy thet year ez enny woman in the
-cove ez hed a plenty.
-
-An' summer an' winter she 'peared ter be always a-workin'.
-
-Waal in th' middle uv March leetle Jim kem, and I reckon thar warn't
-no two happier people in th' world. They war proud uv thet baby, an' no
-mistake.
-
-The fust time I seed Becky arter it war born, she pulled a leetle hand
-out'n from under th' kiver an' sez:
-
-"Uncle Duke, some day thet leetle han'll chop wood fur his mammy."
-
-Waal, it did'nt look much like handlin' an axe thin.
-
-Thet summer she use ter roll th' baby up in her daddie's ole army
-blanket an' take it with her berry pickin' an' peddlin' an' everywhars;
-it 'peared like she didn't think its weight nothin', un' she'd go
-'long th' road talkin' ter it like ez ef a baby four months ole knowed
-ennythin'. With th' money from her berries she bought th' winter
-clothes--mostely things fur th' baby an' flannel shirts fur her
-man--'peared like she thought th' cold wouldn't tech her.
-
-It war th' last uv th' next June thet th' twins war born. This time
-Becky didn't seem ter git 'long so piert--jes' lay still an' pale like,
-an' a lookin' at the baby gals sad an' pityin'. I reckon she war a
-wonderin' whar th' warm winter clothes they'd need by' an' by' war
-ter be got from. It warn't in reason ter 'spose a woman could tote two
-babies an' do much at pickin' berries.
-
-Jim worked ez hard ez enny man could, but his ole mare died jist at
-fodder pickin' time, an' he couldn't do much out'n a critter, so a right
-smart uv his crap war lost. Becky didn't seem ter get strong ez she did
-afore, an' her sister up an' left her sooner 'en she oughter. She seemed
-tar be kinder mad all th' time ter think Becky had gone an' hed twins,
-an' she didn't keep her 'pinions hid. I reckon Becky warn't sorry when
-she went back ter her man.
-
-Ez I war a-sayin', it war ten year ago this December, an' a right smart
-uv snow on th' ground, when Becky came by my house one mornin' ter ax me
-ef I'd go down an' watch th' fire an' leetle Jim fer a spell. I seed she
-war lookin' anxious like, an' I axed her what war th' matter.
-"Jim went a-rabbit huntin' yesterday evenin'," she sed, "an' he ain't
-kem hum yit; I reckon somethin' hes happened ter him, an' I 'lowed I'd
-go an' see. The babies ez both asleep an' I speck ter be home afore
-long."
-
-She went on up th' mounting path a-makin' fur the top, a-holpin' herse'f
-over the sleek places with that hickory stick uv her'n.
-
-I went on down ter th' house an' found leetle Jim a-noddin' afore th'
-fire. It war about'n th' time he always tuck his nap. Pretty soon he
-war ez sound asleep ez ef he war on th' biggest feather bed in th' cove,
-'stead uv jes' his mammy's cook apron under his little yaller head.
-
-I pot on a fresh log an' was mighty nigh asleep myse'f when one o' th'
-babies waked up an' cried a leetle.
-
-Somehow I got th' cradle in an awk'ard place acrost a plank ez war all
-warped up an' th' churnin' back an' fore waked up th' t'other 'un.
-She jes' lay thar a-look-in' fust at me an' then at her leetle sister,
-kinder onsartin whether ter cry or not.
-
-By an' by I thought I'd holp her back ter sleep, so I tuck her leetle
-han' an' tried ter pot her thumb in ter her mouth, but thar warn't
-nobody knowed enny better thin thet thar baby thet she didn't want no
-thumb feedin'. I got up an' went fur some milk, fust a-lookin' out'n th'
-door ter see ef Becky war a-comin'.
-
-Seein' ez thar warn't no sign uv her no-whar, I 'lowed I try ter feed
-th' young uns, beein's th' both uv them war a-doin' ther best at cryin'.
-
-They didn't seem ter take much ter my feedin'; I reckon thet war 'cause
-I didn't set th' milk afore th' fire fust, an' somehow it 'peared like'
-th' milk most in general went down th' outside uv ther necks; an' Annie
-(that war th' little un) kept a chokin' tell I had ter take her up. Jes'
-ez soon ez thet leetle critter got whar she could look 'round an' sense
-things, she 'peared quite satisfied.
-
-I managed ter git t'other un (Fannie) out'n the cradle. They jumped an'
-twisted tell I thought I'd die uv the misery in my back, but whin I pot
-them down they yelled like hallelujer!
-
-'Peard like they'd kept me a-dancin' a powerful long time, whin I heerd
-voices an' I 'lowed Becky war come, but it turned out ter be Mitch
-Pendergrass an' Sonk Levan, with some rabbits an' ther guns. They hed
-stopped by ter git warm.
-
-Whin they seed me a-settin' thar nussin' two babies ter onct they bust
-out larfin'. Fannie hed holt uv my left year an' the leetle hair I hed
-on my head. Annie war a-sittin' on my knee a gazin' at Sonk an' Mitch,
-a-wonderin' why they war a-larfin'.
-
-"I 'low, Uncle Duke," sez Sonk, "ez yer've tuck ter lamin' nussin' late
-in life. It shows yer pluck ter commence on two ter onct. Whar's Becky?"
-
-"She air gone ter look fer Jim," sez I. "He went out a-huntin' last
-night an' he ain't never come hum this mornin'. She war oneasy 'bout him
-an' went out ter look fur him. 'Lowed ez she'd be hum afore this."
-
-Mitch went ter the door an' looked out an' thin cornin' back ter th'
-fire, sez he:
-
-"It's arter twelve o'clock, nigh ez I kin calkerlate. Thar seems ter be
-a big black cloud a-hangin' over th' Top.
-
-"Becky ought'en ter be out in no sich. I reckon we'd better be a-movin'.
-Mebbe Jim's happened ter an acci_tent_ an' she's a-tryin' ter holp him
-by herse'f.
-
-"She's plucky, _she_ is."
-
-"Waal," sez Sonk, "Mitch, you give Uncle Duke a lesson in baby feedin'
-(the father uv ten ought'n ter know somethin' bout'n thet business);
-I'll tote in enough wood ter burn a spell, an' thin we'll light out'n
-hyar an' hunt up Becky an' Jim." Arter Mitch's learnin' me ter hold th'
-spoon un' ter warm th' milk an' ter pot in sweetenin' me an' th' babies
-got on fine. Soon I hed them both sleepin', kivered up ter th' years,
-an' th' cradle sot in a warm place. Then I began ter feel powerful
-hungry, an' leetle Jim, though he ain't sed nothin', hed been a-watchin'
-thet thar spoon an' milk cup while I fed th' babies, an' a openin' his
-mouth long side uf them.
-
-I skun one uv Sonk's rabbits, an' it warn't no time tel th' corn bread
-war a-cookin' in th' bake pan an' th' rabbit a-jumpin' up in th' grease.
-
-Arter dinner Jim set on my knee jes' ez quiet, never axin' fer his mammy
-onct, an' thim babies slept on jes' like they knowed they war twins
-an' ther mammy gone. Pretty soon it began ter get dark an' th' snow war
-a-fallin' ag'in a leetle. Jim went ter sleep an' I pot him ter bed. The
-time 'peared ter go powerful slow arter that, an' I began ter nod.
-
-It must have been eight o'clock whin voices in th' yard waked me. I
-opened th' door an' Mitch called out:
-
-"Stir up the fire an' give us a leetle more light. Thar ain't no bones
-broke, but Jim don't feel egsactly piert."
-
-They brung him in an' his face war jes' ez pale an' he looked powerful
-weak.
-
-Most of his coat war tore of'en him an' th' blood war a-droppin' from
-a place in his arm. Becky looked plumb wore out, but th' fust thin' she
-did soon ez Jim war on th' bed war ter lean over th' cradle an' sez:
-
-"Uncle Duke, war my babies good?"
-
-"Jes' ez good ez two leetle angels," I sed, spitin' th' fact th' side uv
-my head war pretty sore from ther pullin' an' scratchin'.
-
-She helped ter git Jim's arm wrapped up an' him warm in bed, an' thin
-began ter get supper, like nothin' hed happened out'n th' common. Whin I
-seed how pale she looked, I sed:
-
-"Jus' yer git out th' plates an' I'll tend the fire. I 'low arter
-cookin' fer nigh thirty year, I kin git a snack yer can eat."
-
-It twarn't long until another rabbit war in th' pan an' th' coffee
-a-boilin'. Jim looked up whin he smelt the cookin' an' sez:
-
-"I reckon we'll hev a little bigger meat fer to-morrow."
-
-I war jes' ez curious ez enny ole woman, but everybody was so tired an'
-hungry I didn't ax anny questions.
-
-Becky war a-sittin' in a low chier afore th' fire with leetle Jim on her
-lap a-warm-in' his leetle feet in her han'. I could see th' tears war
-a-chasin' each other down her face.
-
-Mon! but they did eat. Jim, too, and I had' ter git th' cold meat left
-from dinner ter hev enough.
-
-When they hed got up from th' table Sonk sed:
-
-"Mitch, your wife'll need you with all thim chil'n; I 'low you'd better
-be a-goin'. I reckon I'll stop hyer; step by an' tell Sallie ter hev
-breakfast early, an' tell leetle Lular pappy'll be home in th' mornin'.
-You hev th' mules ready early; I am afeard uv th' varmints a-gittin'
-Becky's game."
-
-Arter Mitch war gone an' things picked up they told me ther story.
-
-'Pears like thar warn't no trouble in a trackin' Becky up ter th' top,
-an' they found her a-tryin' ter work Jim out'n a hole in th' bluff.
-
-Th' night afore, jes' ez Jim war a-makin' fur hum with his game, he hed
-run agin' a big b'ar. He up an' fired, but missed, it bein' most dark.
-The b'ar war on him afore he could load agin, an' makin' a pass at him
-with its big paw, knocked th' musket out'n his han's an' bruck it plumb
-in two. Jim hed jes' time ter make up a saplin' an' Mr. B'ar set down
-under him ter bide his time.
-
-He sot thar a long spell, an' it war most midnight, nigh ez Jim could
-tell, whin the b'ar made off an' lay down, seein' Jim warn't willin' ter
-come down an' be et. Waal, Jim decided thin he would come down an' run
-fur it, 'lowin' a hot chase war better'n freezin' up thar. So down he
-dumb an' lit out, Mr. B'ar arter him. Jes' ez they struck the bluff path
-the b'ar got so near thet it riz up an' grabbed him. Jim bein' quick
-got away, leavin' Mr. B'ar most uv his coat ter 'member him by, but in
-backin' away he wint too far an' fell inter a crack in th' bluff.
-
-It warn't very nice failin', but the crack warn't over four feet deep
-an' full uv leaves at the bottom, so bein' out'n the wind they made a
-more comfortable place ter spend th' night in then th' saplin'.
-
-Pretty soon Jim hed occasion ter know he war hurt some.
-
-The bar had tore his left arm right smart an' in fallin' his face hed
-got skun up dreadful. Th' b'ar walked up an' down, a-smellin' down thet
-crack sorter much like, but by-an'-by he went off a leetle an' lay down,
-I spect arguin' with hisse'f thet Jim would come out'n th' hole liken he
-did out'n th' saplin.'
-
-Jim wrapped up his arm the best he could with a piece uv his shirt
-sleeve.
-
-It war daylight when he waked an' th' fust thin' he seed war th' head uv
-thet thar b'ar a-lookin' down at him.
-
-He knowed it war'n't no use ter holler, so he jes' lay thar thinkin'
-'bout Becky an' th' babies an' leetle Jim--wonderin' ef she'd think he'd
-quit her.
-
-The thought uv Becky's thinkin' enny bad uv him made him groan with a
-new kind uv pain, an' whin he moved a leetle he fainted away. I reckon
-thet war jes' 'bout'n th' time Becky got thar, fer she said she heerd a
-groan down in thet hole an' thin all war still. She war jes' a-goin' ter
-call whin she spied thet b'ar a-lookin' down inter th' crack.
-
-'Bout ten foot to th' left uv whar Jim war fust the mounting breaks
-away, leavin' a pres'pus uv forty foot or more, but thar's a leetle
-ledge at th' top whar you kin look inter thet crack in th' bluff.
-
-It war fur thet leetle ledge the b'ar made jes' ez Becky halted. When
-it clumb down she made sure it would git ter Jim (she war sure he war in
-thet crack), so she follered quiet ez she could, an th' snow bein' soft
-kept th' b'ar from hearing her--until she war right behind it--whar it
-war leanin' down over th' edge a-tryin' ter git inter th' crack. 'Fore
-it could turn on her she gave it a powerful push with her hickory stick,
-an' being so fur over an' so heavy the b'ar lost hisse'f, an' down he
-went with a crash into th' underbrush.
-
-Becky'd gone too, only her dress war caught in some bushes an' thet
-saved her.
-
-She couldn't do nothin' but lay on th' ground an' rest a spell, thin she
-crawled ter th' edge an' looked down ter make sure th' b'ar war dead.
-
-Hearin' Jim groan agin she got up an' went ter him.
-
-He war clean gone in a faint agin before she could get down ter him.
-When she got him to again she gave him th' flask uv milk she hed
-brought.
-
-She worked with him ter keep him warm, but she couldn't do much,
-th' place war so norrow. It seemed an age before he got so he knowed
-anythin', an' she had made up her mind ter leave him an' go fur help
-whin Sonk and Mitch got thar. An' 'twixt 'm they soon got Jim out an'
-laid him on the ole army blanket I hed sent, an' they axed Becky how
-come he thar. She told them what she knowed, but they wouldn't believe
-about th' b'ar until she showed them whar it lay. Whin Mitch looked over
-an' seed fur hisse'f he jis' sed 'By Gosh!' an' runnin' back to whar he
-could scramble down made down th' side like a coon. Sonk war about ter
-follow, when he stopped an' turned ter Becky, tellin' her ter see ter
-Jim till they could come up agin. He give her a bottle uv applejack
-out'n his pocket, which he said he carried fur snake bite. Becky never
-said nothin' 'bout'n snakes most in general stayin' in th' ground in
-winter time, but gave a little of the liquor ter Jim an' tuck a leetle
-dram herse'f.
-
-I reckon ef it hadn't been fer Sonk's snake medicine, they both a-been
-down sick from th' cold an' wet.
-
-Ez soon ez th' men could git a good kiverin' uv snow over th' b'ar ter
-keep wild cats from pesterin' it, they kem up an' took up th' ends uv
-Jim's blanket ter fotch him hum. It war slow work, th' path bein' steep
-an' norrow, an' Jim heavy, so it war eight o'clock afore they got down.
-Waal, th' next day they got th' bar down, an' mon! he war a big 'un.
-
-They skun him an' put th' meat up fur sale at th' store. A young fellar
-from th' North ez war a-stayin' at th' station give Becky $12 fur th'
-hide, ter take home ter his gal, I reckon.
-
-The meat sold well, an' altergether I reckon Becky never seed so much
-money at one time afore in her life. She wanted ter divide with Sonk
-an' Mitch, but they wouldn't hear to it, an' she couldn't make them took
-nary cent. Afore th' week war out she went ter th' station an' bought
-shoes an' warm clothes fur all an' enough ter last two winters, an' soon
-Becky's fingers war busy. She made some red flannel shirts fur me,
-'cause she sed they be good fer th' misery in my back.
-
-An' whin I sed my fire hed been out a week an' I'd eat enough uv other
-folks' corn bread an' coffee, Becky up and sed:
-
-"I 'low ez yer'd better stay, Uncle Duke; I've got a sight uv sewin'
-ter do an' yer got ter be so handy with th' babies I can't hardly spare
-yer."
-
-Arter thet we jined corn fiel's an' next year war a powerful good one
-fer craps an' fruit.
-
-I tended th' chil'n while Becky went fur berries and did her peddlin'.
-
-We ain't a-gettin' rich, but we has a plenty, an' I don't reckon we air
-got anythin' in a worldly line to ax th' Lord fur he ain't already done
-give us.
-
-[Illustration: 5184]
-
-
-
-
-A CIGARETTE FROM CARCINTO, By Edward French
-
-_A Bit of Mexican Adventure_.
-
-
-|WE were sitting in the hotel in San Antonio, and the conversation had
-taken that satisfactory turn and confidential coloring which it will
-take amongst congenial companions round an open wood fire.
-
-[Illustration: 9185]
-
-We had been expressing our individual opinions about men and things,
-especially men, and had derived a sleepy satisfaction from our general
-criticisms. There were men among us who had seen a good deal of frontier
-life, and, as one man said, "he had seen so many men die with their
-boots on, it seemed the natural end." My nearest neighbor in the circle
-was a young artist from New Orleans, known throughout the city as "Jim
-the Painter," from the art he practiced to get his living. He turned and
-asked me if I knew Jack Dunton; and when I denied the honor, he said:
-"Well, you ought to; he is a map of the whole Indian country."
-
-This awakened my interest. I found that Dunton was living in San
-Antonio, that his life had been really wonderful in experiences and
-adventures, that he was very intelligent as well as recklessly
-brave, and finally, that his acquaintance was worth any man's time to
-cultivate. Later in the evening we walked over to Dunton's office,
-a long, pleasant room in the second story of a flat-roofed _adobe_
-building that covered nearly half an acre. Both its stories were
-crammed full of the goods he sold--wagons, harnesses, and all sorts of
-agricultural tools.
-
-Dunton's own room was a mighty interesting place, principally in its
-decorations. The walls and doorways were hung with bright-colored and
-strange-figured Mojave and Navajoe blankets, skins and weapons were
-scattered around or arranged as trophies, while clumsy and rude
-implements of Aztec and Mexican fashioning, from Yucatan to Chihuahua,
-were suspended against the sides, or heaped in the corners. A large open
-fire, with blazing cedar logs, filled the room with the aromatic odor
-so pleasant and characteristic of that wood, and lighted it with
-fitful glares. There were many interesting stories connected with this
-collection, and every article in the room seemed to remind Dunton of an
-experience or incident in his varied career. After being introduced and
-comfortably seated in a chair, he passed us cigars, and while we were
-lighting these preliminaries to sociability he drew a square of corn
-husk from one side-pocket of his sack coat and a pinch of tobacco from
-the other side-pocket, and quietly rolled a cigarette, which gave out a
-pungent, penetrating odor. It was not disagreeable, but it struck me as
-being peculiar, even for Texas. Upon remarking that it seemed different
-from ordinary tobacco, Dunton replied, "It is, and I have good reason to
-like it, for once it saved my life."
-
-This aroused my curiosity, and with some little urging he told us the
-story. "This tobacco," said Dunton, "comes from the town of Carcinto,
-quite a mining settlement of _adobe_ houses and stockades, surrounding
-a Mexican convict station in the center of the state of Chihuahua. It is
-made by the convicts, who treat the ordinary tobacco with the juice of
-a native plant, which gives it the pungent flavor you notice and, I
-suspect, a slight narcotic power; be that as it may, now that I am used
-to it, other tobacco is flat and tasteless. I was down there some years
-ago, trying to sell the mine-owners some carts, harness, and things in
-my line, and I became well acquainted with the nature of these convicts,
-and I tell you, I would rather take my chances in a den of mountain
-lions than among those fellows when they revolt. At such times they are
-madly insane, and nothing is too hellish for them.
-
-"I had made a good thing of my deal and was anxiously waiting for an
-escort,--for I had four thousand Mexican dollars, and a man of my shape
-takes no chances in toting money around in that country.
-
-"The day that I remember particularly--and you will see I have reason
-to--was the day before I was to go out from the mine with the mule
-train. That afternoon I went in the levels with Senor Bustino, one of
-the owners, a gentleman, every inch of him--and I tell you, no finer
-gentleman walks the earth than a high-caste Mexican of Castilian blood.
-
-"I had sold them a few dozen American pickaxes, and one of the convict
-gangs was to try them that day for the first time. It was the first lot
-of pickaxes ever used in that mine, and, as the sequel proved, the last.
-The men were doing with them twice the business they had formerly done
-with their clumsy heavy hoes. Two soldiers with _escopetas_ were on
-guard, and two overseers with pistols and heavy canes were directing
-the work. To get a better and nearer view, Sefior Bustino and I crowded
-through until we came to the rotten ledge filled with the silver, upon
-which they worked. The convicts stopped and gazed upon us curiously,
-some of them pushing back their long black hair out of their eyes
-and staring with undisguised wonder at me, for I was a _gringo_, a
-_heretico_, and a strange object to them in those early days, with my
-paler skin and peculiar dress. Near me was a large black fellow, bare
-to the waist.. He was short-necked and broad-shouldered, and his cheeks
-were so high as to partly close his little fierce eyes; his nose was low
-and flat, while his chin was sharp and prominent, with a deep scowl;
-in fact, a bundle of animal appetites and passions done up in a hideous
-form. As we passed he drew from the folds of his drawers--the only
-clothing he wore--a pinch of tobacco and a com husk, and making a
-cigarette he stepped to one of the grease-wood torches and lighted it,
-blowing out a great cloud of pungent, aromatic smoke from his broad
-nostrils, that filled the space around us with the odor you noticed from
-my cigarette.
-
-"That was my first experience with that tobacco, and, indeed, my first
-smell of its peculiar odor, and I have never forgotten it. I dined that
-evening with the old senor and was introduced to his family; his wife, a
-Mexican lady prematurely aged--as they all are, two daughters, handsome
-as angels, and was shown the picture of their son, a young man who was
-then being educated in Paris. They were delightful people, especially
-to one who had been trucking for weeks across the dusty plains of
-Chihuahua, with only _peons_ and mules for company, and we had a fiery
-Mexican dinner, spiced with the jokes of the village priest, who was an
-honored guest. At ten, with the hearty wishes of the whole family, and
-after the elaborate Mexican custom of withdrawal, I left them. As I
-sauntered out in the moonlight I could not shut out of my mind the
-brutish face of the convict in the mine. Perhaps the round faces and
-handsome eyes of the senor's pretty daughters may have emphasized the
-memory of the convict's ugly head; otherwise I was in a happy mood.
-
-"I turned the corner of the street and entered a short dark lane that
-led toward the prison stockade. There was an occasional _adobe_ house,
-but the street was mostly lined with the miserable mud _jacals_ of the
-poorer Mexicans. I had hardly gotten well into it when I sniffed
-the same pungent odor that the convict's cigarette had given out.
-It startled me a trifle, conjuring up, as it did, the hideous mental
-picture of the man. I had but just realized this association when I
-heard the clanging of the cathedral bells in that hurried, nervous
-manner which has alarm in its every note--for the tone of a bell always
-partakes of the state that its ringer is in. I heard the sound of
-approaching voices, loud and fierce, mixed with the alarming notes of
-the bells, and I stepped into the dark doorway of the nearest house.
-Next, there was the spatting of bare feet on the hard street, and a
-yelling crowd hurriedly rushed by my hiding-place, leaving a trailing
-smell of the same tobacco. I noticed the gleam of white handles in the
-moon-lighted street that I had seen in the yellow light of the mine,
-and then I knew that the convicts had revolted, and that they were armed
-with the pick-axes I had sold the mining company.
-
-"The bells continued to clang out their terror, and the distant shouting
-became blended into the continuous murmur that you hear from a distant
-crowd of excited people. Once in a while the roar of an _escopeta_ would
-be heard, and soon I saw a magenta glow in the sky, and I knew the town
-had been fired. Then followed the rapid snapping of pistols, and soon
-the bellow of the old brass _escopetas_ denoted that the guards had
-mustered, and that there was an organized resistance to the revolt. All
-this occurred quicker than I can tell it. I concluded to get back into
-the broad street I had just come out of, for if there is to be shooting,
-I want a clear space and as much light as I can get.
-
-"Just as I turned the corner, on a run, with both of my colts on a
-shooting level--for, by the way, it is always best to come upon your
-enemy suddenly and surprise him before he knows you are there--I
-saw several bodies in the street, and in the distance some dozen men
-retreating. I stopped near by the first body I came to; and to my horror
-I saw it was the still warm corpse of Senor Bustino. As I paused and
-stooped to more closely examine, I thought I could detect the lingering
-smell of that hellish convict's tobacco. Had the fiends attacked my
-host's home and dragged him insensate through the streets, or had he
-been slain whilst hurrying to the post of duty, at the sound of the
-alarm he knew well the meaning of? If the former, good God! what had
-been the fate of his wife and lovely daughters? The very thought
-momentarily unnerved me; and if the convicts had not yet wreaked their
-vengeance, could I reach them in time to be of effective service? Louder
-and louder roared the tumult, nearer and nearer came the flashing,
-glinting lights of torch and pistol, and as I swept round into the
-street in which Senor Bustino's house stood I could see, pouring down
-the hill toward it, a demoniac gang led by the bare-breasted convict
-whose baleful face had haunted me.
-
-"I found the senora and her daughters alone and, thank God! unharmed;
-but not a moment too soon, for even as I hurried them through into the
-darkness of the night the convicts, with curses on their tongues, lust
-in their heart, and red ruin in their hands, swarmed into the house.
-A momentary check came as their leader and another fell in the narrow
-door, beneath the fire of my two revolvers, and the flames which leaped
-up from that erewhile home lent their last protection in the shadow they
-cast, which enabled us, by availing ourselves of it, to escape. By the
-time we arrived at my hotel the convicts had flown to the mountains and
-we heard the story of the revolt. If I had not smelled that tobacco I
-should not have concealed myself in the doorway, my life would not have
-been worth a picayune, and you may imagine what would have been the fate
-of my hostess and her household. Senor Bustino, it appeared, had fallen
-a victim to the high chivalry which prompted him, hearing the bell and
-knowing its meaning, to hastily summon his servants, and with five or
-six armed _peons_ hasten out to overtake me and bid me return to his
-house until all danger was over. He had met the convicts, who had
-attacked him and struck him down, while most of his servants fled."
-
-Dunton paused, made and lighted another cigarette, and continued: "I
-could not get away for a month, for it was not safe for a small party
-to leave the town. I brought out some of that tobacco as a curiosity
-and learned to like it. I send for more every year where it is still
-prepared, in the prison-pens."
-
-"It is sometimes said, 'Follow your nose and it will take you out of
-danger,' and in my case the proverb proved true. Sometimes, when I sit
-here alone, half sleepily watching the curling smoke wreaths, I can
-almost see the place again, and the rings of smoke shape themselves into
-a horde of convict demons killing the poor old noble senor, whose elder
-daughter I have married. And now you know what I owe to the pungent
-aroma of a cigarette from Carcinto."
-
-
-
-
-ANTAEUS, By Frank M. Bicknell
-
-
-[Illustration: 0199]
-
-[Illustration: 9200]
-
-ATE one night, after having been a week out of town, I was returning
-home by a short cut across fields, when, on coming upon the street
-again, I found my path barred by a huge, hulking fellow, whose
-unexpected appearance startled me not a little. This was my introduction
-to Antaeus, whose better acquaintance I was to make later under rather
-peculiar circumstances. Antaeus was not a highway robber, but a highway
-roller, and when he first confronted me he was drawn up beside the
-road, enjoying an elephantine slumber after his hard day's labor--being,
-despite his formidable aspect, quiescent and inoffensive.
-
-I am not sure that it is usual to confer upon steam-rollers the
-dignity of a name, but my friend had one, and I read it on the neat,
-black-lettered brass plate affixed to the side of his boiler, near the
-smoke-stack. This, I take it, was the nearest practicable approach to
-hanging a locket about his neck that could be managed, and I have
-always felt grateful to his unknown sponsors for their little act of
-consideration.
-
-I cannot think of Antaeus otherwise than as a creature--not simply as a
-creation--as a reasoning and responsible being, rather than as a docile,
-slavish piece of mechanism; but to the unimaginative he seemed to be
-under the domination of a tolerably clean specimen of humanity whom I
-shall call the Driver.
-
-It was nearly a fortnight after our first meeting when I next saw
-Antaeus, for he was occupied in parts of the town remote from that in
-which I lived. I heard him occasionally, however, as he passed through
-the neighborhood after dark, _en route_ for another field of labor, or
-propelling his weary weight toward the shed under which he was lodged
-for his Sunday's rest. On such occasions, when I heard him lumbering by,
-I used to fancy he was taking an after-supper promenade and puffing a
-meditative cigar as he went along.
-
-At length, after he had come several times for pleasure, or his own
-convenience, he made us a professional call and buckled down to work
-at repairing a strip of street which had long stood in need! of his
-services. Antaeus was with us for several weeks and during his stay
-I became, in a measure, "chummy" with the Driver, from whom I learned
-various interesting facts about my muscular friend.
-
-Antaeus was a "fifteen-tonner," and his market price was $4,000; he was
-about sixteen feet long by seven wide at his widest part; he consumed
-from three to four hundred pounds of coal per diem; his strength was
-equal to that of more horses than I can recollect; he came down upon the
-dust at the rate of two tons weight per foot in width; and, when put to
-his best, he could settle into what was intended to be its final resting
-place about two thousand square yards of new road material per day of
-ten hours. As regarded wheels he was tricycular, that is, he rested
-upon one roller in front and two behind, the former being also used
-for steering purposes. He had two small coal-bunkers in the rear, a
-reasonably commodious space, with a spring seat, for the Driver, and a
-good-sized awning overhead. He worked under a low pressure of I forget
-just how many pounds of steam, and when traveling for pleasure could do
-rather more miles a day than could a crack trotter per hour when put to
-his best paces.
-
-These particulars I learned during the first week that Antaeus was
-busied in our neighborhood. It was thus that I took the preliminary
-steps toward making his acquaintance and came to be on pleasant speaking
-terms with him, as it were. For the subsequent intimacy between Antaeus
-and myself, neither he nor I were wholly responsible.
-
-A young lady had appeared at the house across the way. She was pretty,
-but I noticed her more particularly on account of the seemingly
-boundless capabilities of her wardrobe. She had a fresh gown for every
-new day, or at least, in the course of the first fortnight she had
-displayed a series of fourteen charming costumes, which I could no
-more hope to describe than could a North Greenland Eskimo to write
-an intelligent treatise on the flora of the torrid zone. I sat at my
-window, not too near, every morning when she came out of doors, and
-admired her through a spy-glass. This may appear like a piece of
-impertinence--perhaps it was--but I shall urge in my defence the fact
-that the street between us was nearly a hundred feet wide, and our
-two houses were set so far back that even by using my comparatively
-short-sighted little telescope, I could not bring her much nearer
-than we might actually have been without its aid in a more crowded
-neighborhood.
-
-One afternoon I stood talking with the Driver, while Antaeus was
-awaiting the deposit of more material by two tip-carts which were
-attached to his service, when she passed on the sidewalk, and I imagined
-she glanced at me with a certain degree of interest, as if she recalled
-having seen me before--or was it Antaeus who was the more worthy object
-of' her attention? Had I dared I should have smiled a little--merely
-a vague, sketchy, tentative smile--but, hardly thinking it prudent, I
-resisted the temptation and tried, as the photographers put it, to look
-natural; with the probable result of looking only cross. After having
-been her neighbor for more than two weeks it seemed as if I ought to
-have the right to speak, but proper consideration for _les convenances_
-forbade. It was vacation season, I was alone in the house, and, there
-being no womankind to make the necessary advances, I knew not how long
-it might be ere I could be formally introduced.
-
-[Illustration: 0204]
-
-While I was meditating upon this state of affairs--peculiarly
-unfortunate for me--she walked on and disappeared around a corner. A few
-minutes later the fire-alarm bell sounded the number of a box near by,
-and presently our beautiful fire-engine, all glittering with gold and
-silver plate, the just pride of the town, dashed rather noisily by. At
-sight of this brilliant appearance Antaeus gave vent to a species of
-snort and started up as if to follow, but naturally his lumbering pace
-was no match for the swiftness of the other machine, and from the first
-he was left hopelessly in the rear. I went off to see where the fire
-was--it proved to be of small account--and forgot Antaeus entirely until
-that night, when he recalled himself to my mind by figuring in an odd
-and whimsical dream.
-
-The scene I have just described was reproduced in part, the Driver,
-however, being eliminated from it. I thought I was standing beside
-Antaeus when the young lady appeared, only to disappear. As she went
-I sighed regretfully, whereupon something happened which ought to have
-surprised me, and would have done so anywhere else than in a dream. As
-if in sympathy with me, Antaeus heaved a sigh also--a most ponderous
-one--and thus addressed me:
-
-"I can understand your feelings," he said, in a low, hoarse voice. "You
-are longing for what seems the unattainable. Alas! so am I. We might
-mingle our tears," he went on, beginning to exude moisture around the
-gauges; "or better still," he added, as if struck by an idea, "perhaps
-we can be of assistance to each other."
-
-"In what way?" I asked, dubiously.
-
-"I might help you to know _her_ if you would help me to an acquaintance
-with the charming Electra."
-
-Intuitively I divined that Electra must be the steam fire-engine. Big,
-brawny Antaeus was in love! The ludicrousness of the notion did not
-strike me then as it did afterward. On the contrary, it seemed to be one
-of the most natural things imaginable.
-
-"Yes," he said, in response to my thoughts, "I am passionately enamored
-of her. I desire unutterably to gain her friendship, her esteem, her
-love--even though she may scorn me. I realize that her station in life
-is far above mine. I am only a plodder, while she is--Did you see her
-pass me like a flash of light this afternoon? Was she not entrancing,
-enthralling, irresistible! Ah, me! when she bestows her love it will
-be upon one of those fast, dashing railway fellows, I dare say. Yet
-I should like her to know that I am her friend, that I would risk any
-danger, that I would go through the torments of--of the repair
-shop, that I would give my last puff to serve her. I may be ugly
-and slow-going, and awkward and ungainly--Do you think I am so very
-ungainly, that is, for one in my walk of life?" he broke off, in rather
-piteous query.
-
-"Not at all," I hastened to assure him; "when we consider your great
-adaptability to your--your vocation, I am sure your form would be
-considered remarkably symmetrical."
-
-"Thank you!" he exclaimed, gratefully, "and whether or not such be the
-case, at least I am honest and straightforward and true-hearted, though
-I do blow my own whistle in saying it."
-
-"You certainly are."
-
-"Then I trust I am not too aspiring in wishing to be numbered among
-Electra's friends. I hope she would not be ashamed to acknowledge me if
-she met me in the street."
-
-"I should hope not, indeed," I murmured, when he paused for an
-encouraging word.
-
-"Shall we call it a bargain, then, that I aid you to an introduction to
-the young lady, your neighbor, and in return you so contrive as to bring
-about a meeting between Electra and me?"
-
-"A bargain it is, with all my heart," I assented, grasping and shaking
-the handle of his throttle-lever, "and the sooner the better for the
-carrying out of it."
-
-"Very good; call on me to-morrow, and I will see what can be done for
-you."
-
-"Shall--shall I come in business hours?" I asked, hesitatingly, thinking
-he might possibly prefer to attend to the matter between twelve and one.
-
-"Of course," he answered, "in business hours, certainly. I mean
-business, and I hope you do."
-
-I hastened to set his mind at rest on that point, and, after promising
-to come on the following afternoon, I shook his handle again, which had
-the effect of starting him off, and so our interview ended.
-
-When I awoke in the morning, my dream seemed so vividly real that I
-resolved to risk making myself ridiculous in my own eyes and to keep
-my appointment with Antaeus. Accordingly, after lunch, I strolled out
-toward the section of highway where he was at work. Soon I caught sight
-of a light-complexioned wagon standing on the opposite side of the
-street. Attached to it were two plump, blonde ponies, garbed in
-russet harness, and, on the front seat, reins in hand, talking with an
-acquaintance upon the sidewalk, sat my young lady.
-
-The natty vehicle had one other occupant, a sooty-faced pug, sitting up
-very straight on the cushion beside his mistress, with quite the air of
-a personage of distinction. In front of the ponies' noses was a horse of
-another breed, a four-legged structure of wood, upholding a sign-board,
-upon which was painted in glaring letters the word, "Danger," and in
-smaller ones, "No Passing; Steam Roller Running."
-
-Upon this scene presently entered an important actor--I might call him
-the heavy villian--Antaeus, grumbling, groaning, puffing and perspiring
-in his efforts to consolidate the various ingredients for a durable
-roadbed that had been laid down in his path. As he drew nearer he gave
-utterance to a significant "ahem!"--as I thought--by way of calling my
-attention to what was about to happen. Apparently he was going to keep
-his part of our agreement. A suspicion of what might be his idea began
-to dawn upon me. He purposed frightening the ponies, an incipient
-runaway would ensue, and I should be enabled to play the part of heroic
-rescuer. There were no very original features in the scheme, but it
-struck me as being quite practicable nevertheless; consequently I was
-somewhat surprised and grieved when nothing of the nature of what I had
-anticipated took place.
-
-But Antaeus was more subtle than I. He wished to avoid the appearance
-of collusion between us, which might have been given by the execution
-of the rudimentary strategem I have outlined. (Or perhaps the real
-explanation of it is that he knew the fat little beasts of ponies were
-of too phlegmatic a temperament to be disturbed by a bugaboo.) At any
-rate they only blinked sleepily at Antaeus and then went off into a
-peaceful doze, entirely unmoved by his nearness. With the black-vis-aged
-pug, however, it was quite otherwise. He regarded the monster as
-an interloper, a trespasser, and he began to bark at him angrily.
-Perceiving that his scoldings had no effect, he lost his temper
-entirely, and, jumping down from the carriage seat, ran forward toward
-the advancing engine and continued his barking with redoubled force
-and fury. His mistress' attention was now aroused, and, seeing how
-persistently he put himself in the track of the roller, she became
-uneasy. She called to him persuasively, authoritatively, beseechingly,
-but he paid her no heed. Apparently he had more faith in himself than
-had King Canute when he gave his memorable lesson to his courtiers by
-the seashore.
-
-From his position in the rear the Driver could not see the dog, and I
-doubt if he clearly understood the situation, for he made no attempt to
-avert the threatened catastrophe. The ridiculous animal stood his ground
-and kept up his remonstrances against the invader; the alarmed young
-lady threw an eloquently imploring look at me; and Antaeus came on,
-stolid, grim and impassive. Meanwhile, strangely enough--as it seems
-to me now--I remained inactive until my coadjutor, justly irritated,
-suddenly growled out what I took to mean:
-
-"Come! come; stupid, now is your time; why don't you bestir yourself?"
-
-Then I awakened to a full sense of my responsibilities and
-opportunities, and rushing to the fore, seized the rash and obstinate
-pug by the scruff of the neck and restored him, rescued from the
-Juggernaut, to the arms of his grateful mistress.
-
-Thus did Antaeus fulfill his share of our agreement.
-
-This little incident broke the ice. In less than a week the young lady
-and I knew each other almost intimately. It transpired that we were in
-fact old acquaintances. That is to say, she remembered me when I was at
-home during one college vacation, and she hoped I had not forgotten the
-small miss who used to come over and play tea-party with my sister. I
-replied that I should hope not, indeed, and mentally took myself to task
-for not being surer about it. The boy of seventeen is less likely to be
-impressed with the girl of eight than is the young man of twenty-eight
-with the maiden of nineteen. I was positive that at the end of another
-eleven years I should have had no trouble in recalling her to mind.
-
-I am not a tennis enthusiast, but I will admit that my white flannel
-suit had a chance to contrast itself with the velvety green of the lawn
-across the way rather frequently after that. It was a convenient and
-plausible excuse for being with her a good deal.
-
-[Illustration: 0212]
-
-The pleasure of her society was worth some physical discomfort, and
-I couldn't complain if I did feel for a week or more as if I had been
-given a sound drubbing. One day, after we had finished a series
-of games--in which mine was second-best record--who should appear,
-laboriously rumbling by, but my well-nigh forgotten friend Antaeus.
-
-"What an uncouth piece of mechanism that is!" she exclaimed, turning
-to look at him--"a sort of caricature of a locomotive, one might say. A
-veritable snail for traveling, too, isn't it?"
-
-"Yes; his--I mean it's--best speed does not exceed five miles an hour, I
-am told. A man might walk as fast as that with a little exertion."
-
-"I wonder if it is a pleasant mode of riding--in a steam-roller?" she
-said, half musing, her gaze still resting on Antaeus. "At least one
-would have plenty of leisure for viewing the scenery along the way. I
-should rather like to try a short ride on it."
-
-"Should you, really," I asked, doubting whether or not she was in
-earnest.
-
-"Yes, indeed, I should." If she had been half in jest before she was
-serious now. "It would be a new experience."
-
-"Hardly an agreeable one for a lady, though," I commented.
-
-"Oh, that would be a secondary consideration," she returned with a
-shrug. "I should value the experience as an experience, and I should be
-glad to have it to put on my list."
-
-I looked inquisitive and she proceeded to explain.
-
-"I keep a diary--not a regulation school girl's diary, in which one
-feels bound to write something every single day of the year, whether
-there is anything worth recording or not--but a collection of memoranda
-in which I take a good deal of satisfaction. Mine is a classified diary
-and is contained in about a dozen different books which began as
-mere covers with nothing between. By putting in leaves when there was
-occasion the volumes grew until now several of them have attained to a
-very respectable thickness."
-
-"Might I ask, without indiscretion, for a hint as to the nature of their
-contents, or would that be----"
-
-"Certainly; there is no secret about them. In fact I have been known to
-show their pages to certain of my friends, and, to be quite honest, I
-am rather proud of them. As far as I can recollect now, they are labeled
-with these titles: 'Books I have read, Places I have visited, Notable
-personages I have seen, Odd or eccentric characters I have met, Strange
-sights I have seen, Curious dishes of which I have eaten, Rides I have
-taken----"
-
-"Do you mean," I interposed, "that every time you take a ride you enter
-an account of it in your collection?"
-
-"I mean that whenever I ride in or on any unusual sort of conveyance
-I make a note of it. That particular book dates far back into my
-childhood. The idea of starting it was suggested to me by a ride I took
-on a tame ostrich in South Africa."
-
-My increased respect for a young lady who had ridden upon an ostrich
-near, if not actually in his native desert, will be understood by the
-untraveled.
-
-"You have seen something of the world," I remarked.
-
-"Yes," she admitted; "I have been about with my father a great deal. An
-uncle of mine, who abhors what he calls globe-trotting, tells people,
-with a look of mock commiseration on his face, that I have been
-everywhere except at the North Pole and in a Trappist monastery. A
-slight exaggeration that, and yet not so very far from the truth either.
-I have visited most of the inhabited countries of the globe, I
-think, and I have had a chance to try riding in a good many peculiar
-conveyances. I have ridden on an elephant in India, on a dromedary in
-Egypt, in a sort of horse-litter in Persia, in a man-carriage in Japan,
-in a sledge on bare ground at Funchal, on a log-raft down the Rhine, on
-an Indian's back in Mexico, in the cab of a locomotive on the Southern
-Pacific, in a fast newspaper train out of New York, on an open car moved
-by gravity--and moved very fast, too--on that wonderful railroad
-in Peru, on a small landslide among the White Mountains, in a
-dwelling-house being moved through the streets of this town, in---- but
-I will spare you further enumeration.''
-
-"I hope, however, that you will let me read the catalogue for myself
-some time. I no longer wonder that so successful a collector should
-be eager for an additional specimen. I happen to have some little
-acquaintance with the man who runs our steam-roller; perhaps I could
-arrange to have your wish for a ride gratified."
-
-"Oh, if you _only_ could!" she exclaimed, looking so hopefully expectant
-that I secretly vowed the thing should come to pass or I would know the
-most unanswerable of reasons why.
-
-I had learned that Antaeus was neither a native nor a naturalized
-citizen of our town, but that he owed allegiance to a firm of
-contractors in a distant city, whose delegate and sole representative
-here was the Driver; consequently if I could prevail upon him to lend
-Antaeus I need apprehend no interference from the town authorities.
-
-I began upon the Driver the next forenoon. My persuasiveness took a
-conventional form, for, not being gifted with an oily tongue, I was
-forced to trust for success in a great measure upon my chance of
-stupefying the Driver's conscience with the fumes of several superfine
-cigars. I spent about two hours in company with Antaeus, taking many
-turns up and down the street with him for the special purpose of
-observing his manners and customs. With the advice and consent of his
-guardian I learned to start, to stop, to reverse, and to steer to my own
-satisfaction. I had intended to broach the important question that day,
-but, fearing I might not yet have sufficiently blunted the Driver's
-moral sensibilities, my courage failed at the critical moment and I
-permitted myself the expensive luxury of procrastination.
-
-The next day I found the task no easier, and so put it off again, but on
-the day after I awakened to the fact that delays are dangerous and made
-the fateful plunge. I frankly told the Driver the whole story, under
-the belief that he would be less likely to refuse the petition of a lady
-than one made in my own name.
-
-If he had suspected all the while, from my persistent attentions, that I
-had an axe to grind he did not mortify me by showing it. He accepted
-my fifth cigar as he had my first, with an air of supposing it to be
-offered from motives of the most disinterested friendliness.
-
-I did not meet with success in the outset. The Driver had grave doubts
-as to the propriety of "loaning" a steam-roller. Had he been a Frenchman
-he might reasonably have urged that, like a tooth-brush, _�a ne se pr�te
-pas_. However, I overcame his scruples in the end, and, probably in
-the belief that "if it were done 'twere well it were done quickly," he
-agreed to deliver Antaeus into my charge that evening.
-
-Accordingly, not long after sunset, I went across the street and called
-for the young lady. I realized fully that her father and mother would
-not have approved of our escapade, but they were absent from home and
-I tried to believe it was not my duty to stand toward her _in loco
-parentium_. She was a bit wilful too, and I feared my remonstrances
-would do no good unless I carried them to the extreme of refusing my
-assistance, which, after my ready offer of it, would have been uncivil
-and unkind.
-
-At an unfrequented spot, on a broad highway, near the outskirts of the
-town, Antaeus and the Driver--the former under head of steam, and both
-smoking--were awaiting us. We met them there by appointment at nine
-o'clock. After many instructions and cautions touching the fire, the
-water, the steam, the use of the levers, the necessity of keeping a
-sharp lookout ahead, etc., the Driver left me in sole command, as proud
-as a boy with his first bicycle.
-
-"You find you have got into rather close quarters here, don't you?" said
-I, as I perched myself upon the high seat, from which the machine was
-most conveniently directed.
-
-"The passenger accommodations might be more spacious, but all things
-considered I hardly think I shall complain," laughingly returned my
-companion, who had seated herself on one of the coal-boxes behind me. "I
-took the precaution not to wear my best frock, so I can stow myself away
-in small compass without fear of damage."
-
-Having in mind the trouble I had taken, her delight in the novelty of
-her situation was highly gratifying to me. She eagerly asked about the
-functions of the various levers, try-cocks, and gauges, and insisted
-upon being allowed to experiment with them, as well as with the steering
-gear, herself. The knowledge, she said, might be useful to her in the
-future. Antaeus proved to be entirely docile and allowed himself to
-be guided as easily as a well-broken flesh and blood horse. The big
-fly-wheel revolved, the fussy little piston pumped up and down with
-an ado that seemed absurd considering the slow progress resulting, the
-steam fretted and hissed, the three massive rollers bore with all
-their might upon the hard surface of the macadam, and thus crunching,
-clanking, thumping and rattling, we sluggishly made our way into the
-obscurity of the night.
-
-By and by, in the course of our journey, we came to a gentle rise, the
-ascent of which made Antaeus puff rather laboriously. For a moment my
-passenger looked slightly uneasy. "Why does it do that?" she asked.
-
-"The exertion of going up hill makes him breathe a little hard,
-naturally," I answered, reassuring her. "He is feeling in fine
-condition, though," I added, inspecting the steam-gauge by the light of
-my lantern; "the effect of a plentiful supply of oats, doubtless."
-
-"You speak of _it_ as _he_," she said, questioningly.
-
-"Certainly; why not?" I retorted. "He seems to me unequivocally
-masculine."
-
-"True," she assented; "still in personifying inanimate objects, are they
-not more frequently made members of the other sex?"
-
-"Undoubtedly they are, but it strikes me as a ridiculous
-custom--particularly in the case of great machines. No engine, however
-big, black or ungainly, but it must be spoken of by the feminine
-pronoun. It is hardly a compliment to your sex, is it? Think of the
-incongruity of putting, for instance, a huge steamboat, named for the
-president of the company, into the feminine gender!"
-
-She laughed at my fancy, but her merriment did not wound my
-sensibilities. "So it's--I beg pardon, _his_--name is Antaeus, is it?"
-
-"Yes, in honor of that old giant--do you recollect?--whom Hercules
-overcame."
-
-"By lifting him quite off the ground, because as often as he came in
-contact with Mother Earth his strength was renewed? Yes, I recall the
-story, and I can see a certain propriety in the name. I rather think
-this fellow, if he were to be lifted off the ground, could scarcely use
-his great strength to advantage. Imagine him turned upon his back like a
-huge beetle, kicking about frantically into the air to no purpose!"
-
-"Undoubtedly he gets his grip from his contact with the earth," said I.
-"As a flying-machine he would hardly be a success."
-
-"Doesn't it strike you that he is almost unnecessarily deliberate?"
-she queried, presently, with a slight show of impatience; evidently the
-novelty of the adventure was beginning to wear off.
-
-"More so than usual for the reason that we are ascending an incline;
-but you must remember that Antaeus was not built for speed," returned I,
-defending my friend.
-
-"Evidently not. He belongs to the plodders--the slow and sure sort. He
-would be entered for a race in the tortoise class probably. Fancy an
-absconding cashier trying to escape from justice in a steam-roller! It
-would be funny, wouldn't it?"
-
-I agreed with her that it would be very funny. "Or imagine an eloping
-couple fleeing before an irate father on such a conveyance!" I
-suggested, with a consciousness of blushing in the dark for the audacity
-of the conceit.
-
-"Now, that is good!" she exclaimed, seizing on my idea with an eagerness
-that showed how far her thoughts were from taking the direction in
-which mine had dared to stray. "What a situation for a modern realistic,
-sensational drama!"
-
-"It might be worked up into something rather impressive, I should think.
-In these days of bringing steamboats, pile-drivers, fire-engines,
-real water, and railway trains in upon the stage I don't know why a
-steam-roller might not be given a chance."
-
-"Why not?" she cried, waxing enthusiastic. "Picture the scene. Enter
-lovers on 'steam-roller, followed by incensed father in--in----"
-
-"In an electric-car," I supplied experimentally.
-
-"Pshaw! don't be foolish!" she exclaimed thanklessly. "Followed
-by father in a light gig, drawn by a spirited horse. Overtakes
-lovers--demands his daughter--young man respectfully declines to give
-her up. Old gentleman prepares to come and take her. Is about to descend
-from gig when steamroller whistles, spirited horse begins to prance, he
-is obliged to keep tight hold of reins----"
-
-"Very good!" I put in approvingly. "Stern parent threatens direst
-vengeance, horse cavorts alarmingly, parent rages unavailingly,
-resolute lover pushes throttle wide open with one hand and retains firm
-grip upon the helm with the other."
-
-"While the devoted loveress, with her own dainty hands, shovels in coal
-and encourages him to stand firm----"
-
-"By the way, that reminds me of something," I interrupted and, getting
-off my elevated seat, I bent down and opened the furnace-door; "I rather
-think I should have given Antaeus his supper before now."
-
-In truth, I had neglected the fire altogether too long. I hastily threw
-in more coal, but it was already too late to avert the consequences of
-my forgetfulness. The pressure of steam was diminishing and continued
-to diminish in spite of all my efforts to prevent it. Back fell the
-indicator upon the dial, and more and more slowly worked the machinery
-as the power behind it became less and less.
-
-"We shall not reach the top of the hill at the present rate," remarked
-my companion. "The vital spark appears to be in danger of extinction, so
-to speak."
-
-"In very great danger," I sorrowfully assented as, with one last feeble
-effort, Antaeus wearily gave up the struggle.
-
-"Nor is that the worst of it," I added, filled with a sudden
-apprehension.
-
-"What do you mean?" she asked, disquieted by my manner, though not yet
-divining the inevitable outcome of the existing state of affairs.
-
-"You had better descend to _terra firma_ unless you want to go back down
-hill faster than you came up," I replied significantly.
-
-"Oh!" she exclaimed, comprehending the danger.
-
-"Yes; the attraction of gravitation is going to take us back a deal
-faster than Antaeus ever traveled before. Shall I help you out?"
-
-"Can't you put on the brakes?"
-
-"There are none; the builders of this machine did not foresee such a
-contingency as this. It was not to be supposed that Antaeus ever would
-fall into the unskillful hands of a bungling, blundering amateur," said
-I, calling up hard names for myself from out of the depths of my
-humiliation.
-
-"Don't reproach yourself," she begged; "it is I who am to be blamed."
-
-"Shall I not help you out before it is too late?" I interposed, as
-Antaeus began to gather way.
-
-"What are you going to do," she demanded.
-
-"Oh, I shall stick to the ship," I answered grimly.
-
-"But you will get hurt if you do," she objected.
-
-"Antaeus will get hurt if I don't. Come!"
-
-"No; I shall stay on board, too," she declared heroically. "Now don't
-try and persuade me to desert, for I shall not do it. Can't I be of some
-use?"
-
-Seeing that she was firm in her resolve to stand by me, I gratefully
-accepted her offer of assistance, which indeed, was of considerable
-value. It was important that I should keep a firm hold upon the steering
-wheel, to prevent the craft from yawing, and, unless I were to be
-continually screwing my head about in a very painful position, I could
-not very well see the road over which we were traveling. From a position
-between the coal-boxes behind me--now the front of the conveyance--she
-could keep a look-out and pass the word to me when it became necessary
-to correct the deviations in our course. Without her help, it is more
-than probable that I should have run Antaeus ignominiottsly, perhaps
-disastrously, into a ditch before reaching the foot of the incline. Even
-as it was, I had my hands full.
-
-During the ride, which certainly was one of the most disquieting,
-mentally and physically, that I ever have taken, we said very little to
-each other. I gripped the wheel, and she grasped the iron sides of the
-coal-bunkers, between which she stood, opening her lips only to call,
-"right! left!" or "steady!" as I had hastily instructed her to do for my
-guidance in steering. So we rumbled and rattled and jolted on down the
-hill, at continually increasing speed, until at length we reached the
-base, and I drew a deep breath of relief at knowing that the worst was
-over.
-
-Arrived upon a level, our momentum gradually expended itself. From an
-estimated ten-mile rate--which had seemed terrific--we slowed to a five,
-to a three, to a one, to a snail's pace, and then something occurred
-which, although not threatening any danger to us personally, filled our
-minds with the liveliest anxiety for the safety of others. Antaeus came
-to a stand-still just across the railway track.
-
-"Well?" said my passenger, inquiringly.
-
-"Well," I returned, blankly, as I pulled my watch from my pocket, "this
-is--interesting, to say the least."
-
-"Are there--how about trains?" she queried anxiously.
-
-During the jolting of our forced--and forcible--descent our lantern
-had gone out; but there was an electric lamp near, and by its light I
-managed to read the hour upon my watch-dial.
-
-"There is a train leaving the city at ten, due here at ten-seventeen; it
-now lacks five minutes of that. I must go to the station and report that
-the way is blocked. I am sorry to leave you--or would you prefer going
-while I wait here?"
-
-"I think it will be better for you to go."
-
-"Very well, then; I'll not be long."
-
-[Illustration: 0220]
-
-This promise of mine was ill-advised. I hurried up the track to the
-station, only to find it locked and deserted. It was not the principal
-station of the town, being one of the half-dozen smaller ones strung
-at short intervals along the line. In all probability it would not be
-opened until a few minutes before train-time. As I knew the outcoming
-train would stop at that station, and thus give me a chance to warn the
-engineer of the obstruction ahead, I did not feel particularly alarmed
-at not finding the agent at once. Still I was conscious of some nervous
-uneasiness while awaiting his arrival.
-
-At last he came leisurely across the street, jingling his keys as he
-walked. As soon as he stepped foot upon the platform I went to 'him
-and began to tell my story. I had not proceeded far with it ere he
-interrupted me with a startled ejaculation.
-
-"Great Scott! The White Mountain express!"
-
-"What? What do you mean?" I gasped,
-
-"New train--put on yesterday--passes here on the way in at ten-ten,
-and it's more than that now!" he exclaimed in staccato, as he hastily
-unlocked the station door, and, putting in his hand, seized a red
-lantern that had been sitting ready lighted on the floor within.
-
-He did not waste any more time with me, but rushed along to the end of
-the platform, and then began to run with all his might down the track.
-I succeeded in following him at not too great a distance, although I was
-turning sick and giddy with all sorts of horrible apprehensions. Visions
-of a frightful wreck photographed themselves on my brain, the shrieks of
-the dying sounded prophetically in my ears, and in the midst of it all
-I was selfishly deploring the fact that I should be called on to pay the
-damages--at least to Antaeus--and wondering if I could contrive to get a
-hardware discount off the market price of steam-rollers.
-
-The crossing was still hidden from us around a curve when a shrill
-whistling broke upon my startled ears.
-
-"T-o-o-t!--t-o-o-t! Toot! toot!"
-
-The agent uttered an explosive invocation to the Deity, and added in
-tones of despair:
-
-"We're too late; she's onto us!"
-
-Still we staggered mechanically forward, until suddenly, with a cry of
-warning, the agent sprang aside, and the express went thundering by.
-
-"See here, young man," my companion exclaimed angrily, "if this is a
-put-up job----"
-
-"But it is not!" I interposed with indignant protest. "I don't
-understand it any better than you do. Certainly I left Ant--the roller
-sprawled across both tracks."
-
-"Well, I guess it ain't there now," dryly remarked the agent, watching
-the rear lights of the fast-receding train, until they were swallowed up
-in the glare of the "local's" head-light. "I must run back," he added,
-recalled to a sense of his duties. "You take this lantern and go and
-see if the outward track is clear. Stand between the rails and swing
-the lantern if it ain't. I'll tell the engineer to go slow and be on the
-lookout."
-
-In another minute I was at the crossing. I looked up and down the street
-for Antaeus, but neither he nor the young lady were to be seen. If
-that Hercules of a locomotive actually had lifted him into the air and
-carried him off his absence could not have been more conspicuous. But
-naturally such a feat>could not have been accomplished, nor had it been
-attempted.
-
-The real explanation of the mysterious disappearance was this. During
-my absence the fire under the boiler had been getting up, until finally
-enough steam had made to start the machinery and so the roller had been
-enabled to roll itself away out of danger.
-
-I was about to start toward town, under the supposition that Antaeus had
-taken that direction, when I chanced to recollect that with the levers
-as I had left them he naturally must go just the opposite way--that is,
-retrace the course over which he had lately come. Accordingly I set out
-on the run toward the hill. Near the foot of it I found him, diagonaled
-off the road-side with his nose against a tree, loudly hissing in
-impotent rage at the unwelcome bar to his progress.
-
-I jumped into the engineer's place, reversed the machinery, and without
-very much trouble succeeded in getting him back into the road and
-started on the homeward way. I was putting to myself an uneasy question
-as to the whereabouts of my passenger, when, to my relief, I heard her
-voice close at hand.
-
-"Is it all right?" she inquired anxiously; "I feared it was going to
-blow up or something, it made such a horribly distressing noise."
-
-"That very noise was a guarantee that he was _not_ going to blow up,"
-I replied, bringing Antaeus to a stop. "He was merely getting rid of
-superfluous steam through the safety-.valve. I am very glad to find you
-again. Will you ride? I think we shall get on smoothly this time."
-
-Rather hesitatingly she allowed me to help her in. Then, after taking
-the precaution to add some fuel to the fire, and to inspect the steam
-and water indicators by the light of my borrowed red lantern, I opened
-the throttle and started on again.
-
-"Did the train frighten you?" I bethought myself to ask, presently.
-
-"Oh, don't speak of it," she returned with a shudder; "I heard it coming
-from two or three miles away, and when it got nearer and nearer and you
-did not return I was almost frantic. But I couldn't do anything. I
-don't think it was more than a quarter of a mile distant, with the light
-gleaming along the rails and making it seem even nearer, when the roller
-began to move--but, oh, how slowly! I thought I should--well, if my hair
-hasn't turned gray from that scare it never will do so until the natural
-time for it comes, I am sure."
-
-"Well, the old fellow got off in time, evidently."
-
-"Yes; but with hardly a second to spare. He hadn't cleared the rails
-of the other track when the train passed. It was a frightfully narrow
-margin."
-
-"You were not on board all this while, I hope."
-
-"Oh, no; that would have been too foolhardy. But when I saw it was
-making off I didn't want it--I mean _him_--to go careering and cavorting
-about the country alone, so I climbed up and tried to take command. You
-showed me how to use the reversing-lever, and it all seemed easy when
-you were here, but when I was alone I didn't dare touch it for fear
-something disastrous would happen. All I ventured to do was to take the
-wheel and keep, him in the road--or rather try to do so, for I didn't
-succeed very well. My strength was not equal to it. He swerved a little
-and then got to going more and more on the bias, until at last, despite
-all I could do to the contrary, he ran off against a tree and was
-obliged to stop. Soon afterward that hissing noise began, and, fearing
-an explosion, I ran and got behind the wall on the other side of the
-street, and then--then you came. I don't think I ever was more rejoiced
-to see anybody in all my life."
-
-I resisted a temptation to make a speech, which, however much in earnest
-I was, might have sounded silly, and contented myself with remarking
-that I was glad to have arrived in such good time, and I turned my
-attention to the taking of her--and Antaeus--safe home.
-
-I could not get to sleep after going to bed that night. The evening's
-experience of itself was hardly a soporific, but there was yet another
-matter to occupy my thoughts and prevent my sleeping. Should I venture
-at the next favorable opportunity to put a certain question to a certain
-person? If I did so what answer should I receive? I hoped and I feared
-and I doubted concerning the sentiments of the said certain person
-toward my unworthy self. I revolved the thing in my mind until
-there seemed to be little else there but revolution. Progress in any
-direction, certainly there was none. My body was hardly less restless
-than my mind.
-
-At three o'clock it flashed across me like a revelation, that I was
-hungry. I had eaten a light supper hours ago, and now my stomach was
-eloquent with emptiness; while the blood which should be doing good
-service there was pulsing madly about in my brain to no purpose. I went
-down stairs and inspected the contents of the ice-chest. Roast pork and
-brown bread make rather a hearty late supper, but breakfast time was so
-near I thought I would risk them--and a good deal of them.
-
-Returning to my room, I set a lamp upon a stand at the head of the
-bed and, taking the first book that came to hand--it chanced to be an
-Italian grammar--I began to read. I had gone as far in the introduction
-as "CC like t-ch in hatchet," when I grew drowsy. I laid down the book,
-my eyelids drooped, and there is good circumstantial evidence that a
-moment later I fell asleep, lying on my back with the upper half of my
-body bent into the form of a bow.
-
-My slumbers were visited by a dream--a nightmare, composed, I estimate,
-of cold roast pork and brown bread, uncomfortable bodily position, the
-memory of certain occurrences in my past history, and an event to be
-described later. In this dream Antaeus figured largely. He seemed to
-come rolling across the bed, and me, until he had stopped upon my chest
-and stomach.
-
-[Illustration: 0228]
-
-"What are you doing?" I asked in alarm. "Do you know you are crushing
-me? Get away!"
-
-"I dare say I am. I _weigh_ fifteen tons," Antaeus replied, heavily
-jocose. "I say," he continued with a burst of anger, "you are an
-honorable, high-minded sort of person, you are. What do you mean by
-treating me so? Have you forgotten our compact? I have given you every
-chance man could ask for with _her_; what have you done for me in
-return? Nothing. Even worse than nothing. To faithlessness you have
-added treachery. Not content with deceiving me, you have sought to
-destroy me. I suppose you hoped to see my _d�bris_ strewn along the iron
-way."
-
-I was conscience-stricken by his accusations; but I could refute a part
-of them. "Oh, no! oh, no!" I protested, "it was an accident, I assure
-you. So far from desiring such a thing, I declare that I cannot even
-imagine your being reduced to _d�bris_. I----"
-
-"Bah!" roared Antaeus, and in his rage he began to belch forth
-smoke--smoke so thick and black that I thought I should be stifled by
-it. In another moment I awoke gasping.
-
-One feature of my dream was a reality--the smoke. The room was filled
-with it, and there were flames beside. As nearly as I can guess, the
-situation on which I opened my eyes had been thus brought about. While
-I slept the wind had risen and, pushing inward the shade at the open
-window, had pressed it against the small, unstable stand until the
-latter had been tipped over, bringing the lighted lamp to the floor.
-The muslin curtains had caught fire; from them the straw matting,
-kerosene-soaked, had flamed up, so that now a pretty lively blaze was
-in progress.
-
-I sprang off the bed, made a snatch at some of my clothes, and got out
-of the room as soon as possible. After I had helped save everything
-portable, that could be saved without risk to life, I went and stood
-before the house in the cool air of the early dawn and watched the
-struggle between flames and flood. In the midst of my perturbation I
-noticed something that struck me as being worthy of remark. I had left
-Antaeus at the edge of the roadway before our gate; now the fire-engine,
-Electra, had been drawn up beside him. He was maintaining strict
-silence, but I hoped he was being well entertained, for Electra kept
-up an incessant buzzing--woman like, quite willing to do all of the
-talking. At any rate my share of our compact was now fulfilled; Antaeus
-and I were quits.
-
-In the later morning I saw the young lady. My misfortunes called forth
-from her expressions of sincerest pity; indeed, she bitterly reproached
-herself for having been the direct cause of them. When I described my
-narrow escape from death by suffocation, she grew so pale that I thought
-she must feel considerable interest in me, although I immediately
-reflected that it could not be very pleasant to have one's next-door
-neighbor roasted alive.
-
-By-and-by I told her of my two dreams, and of the way in which I finally
-kept faith with Antaeus.
-
-"It is a shame that you had to burn up your house to do it," she
-commented, "when a brush-heap might have answered the purpose quite as
-well."
-
-I thought--or I hoped--that the time had come for making a decisive move
-with some chance of its being effective. I furtively possessed myself of
-her hand.
-
-"I should not regret the house so much," said I, "if I might hope
-you would deign to extend to me the favor with which Electra has made
-Antaeus happy."
-
-This was bunglingly put, but she understood me well enough, although she
-murmured in reply:
-
-"You have it already; we are--acquainted. Surely you don't
-want--anything--more."
-
-But she did not withdraw her hand.
-
-I have just heard that the town fathers contemplate purchasing Antaeus
-and giving him a permanent residence "within our borders." If
-this report be true, I shall use all my influence--from motives of
-gratitude--to have him lodged beside the engine-house, so that he may be
-near his bewitching Electra.
-
-[Illustration: 0238]
-
-
-
-
-WHICH MISS CHARTERIS? By C. G. Rogers
-
-
-[Illustration: 0239]
-
-[Illustration: 9239]
-
-AVING completed his breakfast, Mr. Percy Darley seated himself in a n
-easy-chair, facing the cheerful grate-fire of ruddy anthracite, placed
-his toes upon the fender, and relapsed into a thoughtful contemplation
-of Leonard's letter.
-
-"You had best come, my dear boy," said the letter. "It is a sleepy
-little town--one of those idyllic Acadian places of which you used to
-rave when you were tired of the city and fretful at her ways. We can
-smoke our pipes and chat over the old days, before a fire in my big,
-old-fashioned grate. There is a noble stretch of clear ice here now. Our
-little river is frozen over, solid and safe, and the darkest prospects
-do not foreshadow another fall of snow for a fortnight. The sleighing is
-superb; and, as Madeline Bridges says, 'the nights are splendid.' Pack
-up your traps and come."
-
-The invitation was an alluring one, thought Darley. His head ached, and
-his heart was sick of the everlasting round of parties and calls and
-suppers. What a vision of beatific rest that idea of a chat over old
-times! Ah, dear old times of childhood and youth, when our tears are as
-ephemeral as our spendthrift dimes!
-
-There seemed to be only one rational preclusion--to wit, Miss Charteris.
-Not that he thought Miss Charteris would personally object to his
-absence, but, rather, that _he_ had an objection to leaving Miss
-Charteris. Miss Charteris was an heiress, and a handsome woman; to
-be brief, Miss Charteris being rich, and our friend Darley having the
-millstone of debt about his neck, he had determined, if possible, to wed
-her. If he went away, however, at this period of his acquaintance,
-when the heiress and he were becoming fast friends, some one else would
-doubtless step into the easy shoes of attention.
-
-So Darley went down into the city and telegraphed his friend Leonard
-that he would be in Dutton on the evening train. He thought he should
-like to see Miss Charteris, however, before going. He walked back slowly
-along a particularly favorite drive of hers, and presently met this
-young lady with her stylish little turn-out, looking very radiant and
-happy on this bright winter morning.
-
-There was some one with her--a fact Darley noticed with no great feeling
-of pleasure. It was not a strange thing; but, following the course of
-things as they had been for the past few weeks, it should have been
-Darley himself. This morning it was a sallow, dark young man whom Darley
-did not remember having seen before.
-
-Darley explained that he was about to leave town for a few weeks, as
-soon as Miss Charteris had drawn up alongside the pavement to wish
-him goodmorning. Then she introduced him to her companion. "A very old
-friend--Mr. Severance--just arrived from Australia."
-
-"Dear old Dutton!" said Miss Charteris, looking reminiscent. "You must
-not break any trusting hearts down there, Mr. Darley; for the Dutton
-maids are not only lovely, but proverbially trusting."
-
-"You know Dutton, then?" Darley answered, surprised.
-
-"Oh, yes! I have a very dear aunt in Dutton--oh, but you will see! I
-spent some of my happiest days there. So did you, I think, Lawrence."
-
-"Yes," said Mr. Severance reflectively, "days almost as happy as the
-present day. Don't you think, Mr. Darley, that a man's best years
-cluster round the age of ten?"
-
-Darley could not help agreeing to this. All men, provided their youth
-has been happy, think so. Darley said good-by, and walked on.
-
-Who was this fellow Severance? _She_ called him Lawrence--_Lawrence_, by
-Jove! There was something in it--rather old schoolmates, too, they
-had been, and what might they not be now? It was more pique than
-disappointment which caused Darley to wish momentarily that he was not
-scheduled for Dutton. However, he must stand the hazard of the die.
-
-His things were soon packed; he also supplied himself with a box of the
-cigars Leonard and he used to love in "the days that are no more," and a
-copy of "Outing." And ten hours later the train, with a jovial roar, ran
-into the little town, where the lights gleamed cozily against the snowy
-background, and the sleigh-bells seemed to bid him a merry, musical
-welcome.
-
-A short, erect, trimly built man with a finely chiseled face and a brown
-skin that seemed to breathe of pine woods and great wide, sunlit rivers
-grasped Darley's hand as he stepped to the platform.
-
-"Well, old man!" exclaimed the brown man, cheerily. "Awfully glad you've
-come! Come this way! Here we are, Joseph! Step in!"
-
-"By Jove! it _is_ wintry here, isn't it?" said Darley, as he slid under
-the buffalo robes. "What a peerless night!"
-
-After supper the two men made themselves thoroughly comfortable in great
-leather chairs before Leonard's promised fire, and smoked and chatted.
-
-"You look just the same, old boy," said Leonard, scanning Darley
-carefully. "But the hair is a little thin in front there, and I think
-I see the growing spot of baldness, as Ike Marvel has it. Did you ever
-read that great book of his, 'A Bachelor's Reveries?' No? Well,
-you should. I find it sweetest company. Yes, you are the same old
-sobersides--a great deal deeper than you look, as the little boy said
-when he fell into the well. And not married yet, eh?"
-
-"Who, the little boy?"
-
-"No; you, you rogue! I should have thought you would have gone off long
-ago."
-
-"Why?"
-
-"A hard question to answer. Are we not always in a condition of mild
-wonder that our friends have not gone over to the married ranks, when
-we ourselves have not? However, from floating gossip--that tongue's
-flotsam--I have heard that you meditate going over."
-
-"Eh?" said Darley, pricking up his ears.
-
-"Why," answered Leonard, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, "Beau
-Brummel cannot pay court to a beauty without the world knowing it! I,
-even I, have heard of Miss Bella Charteris. She is not the sort of girl,
-if I may make so bold, that I would have imagined you pinning yourself
-to. I should have thought some quiet, sober, angelic little woman
-like----"
-
-"Like who?"
-
-"Well, I was going to say like her sister," said Leonard softly, bending
-his head over his pipe as he slowly refilled it. "But you do not know
-her sister, I think."
-
-"Why, I did not even know Miss Charteris had a sister!" exclaimed
-Dar-ley in amazement.
-
-"No? Why, Miss Florence Charteris lives here--in Dutton!"
-
-"Miss Charteris mentioned an aunt, and hinted at some one else whom she
-said I would see, now that I think of it."
-
-"Irony, I suppose," said Leonard quietly, smiling a queer little smile.
-"Yes, Miss Charteris the second lives in Dutton: a quaint, gray little
-life, good, patient, and God-like. She is the sweet angel of Dutton. But
-tell me, Percy, are you in love with your Miss Charteris?"
-
-"I am afraid she is not my Miss Charteris," said Darley, smiling. "And
-to be candid with you, Jack, I am not in love with her--for which,
-perhaps, I should be thankful. However, if Miss Charteris _does_ accept
-me, which I think is highly improbable, I shall marry her for money."
-
-Leonard shook his head. "I thought that was the way the wind lay," he
-said sagaciously. "Don't do it," he added tersely, after a pause. "Take
-an old fool's advice--don't do it. I think you would only live to regret
-having sold yourself into bondage. That is what it would amount to in
-your case. You are not built upon rough enough lines, I know, not to
-care at having your poverty sneered at and constantly thrown in your
-face. It is a puzzle to me how any man with any sense of independence
-and honor can sell himself, as some men do; and it is beyond my
-understanding how _you_, with your fine feelings and high ideal of
-manhood, ever thought of such a thing."
-
-This was certainly rubbing it in, Dar-ley thought. But, then, Leonard
-was such an exceptionally odd fellow, with his one-man-in-a-million code
-of chivalry and his ethical eccentricities. Still, Darley shrunk at the
-castigation, because he knew that the feelings that prompted it were
-sincere.
-
-"But I am terribly in debt, Jack," he said, almost deprecatingly. "What
-is there left for me to do?"
-
-"What is there left? The opportunity to fight it out!" retorted Leonard.
-"Retrench. In a year, or two at most, unless you are _hopelessly_
-insolvent, if you live without the profitless pleasures that have
-brought you to this pass, you can come out triumphantly independent."
-
-Darley shook his head. "I am afraid I could not stand the strain, Jack,"
-he answered, almost sadly. "A fellow of your caliber might. How is it,
-by the way, that you yourself are still in single harness?"
-
-Leonard was silent, gazing in the coals with almost a melancholy air.
-
-"Perhaps I should not say so," he said at last, "yet you have been so
-frank with me; but I do not like the subject when applied to myself.
-However, there is but one answer, which is embodied in that one
-word that hangs like a pall before the eyes of the young literary
-aspirant--_refused_. I shall always be single, Darley. Always the same
-old solitary sixpence, with my rods and guns and dogs and books. Not bad
-companions, all of them, when used well--faithful, too. Eh, Rosy?"
-
-The beautiful hound addressed raised her head and looked pathetically at
-her master, rubbing her nose in a sympathetic way against his leg.
-
-Darley felt deeply interested. "What was the trouble, old fellow?" he
-ventured.
-
-"The whole story is contained in that one word--refused. I never cared
-for but one woman; and _she_ did not care for me--at least, not enough
-to marry. Which was, after all, the most natural thing in the world, I
-suppose. I could not blame her, could I, since I would only marry for
-love myself? It is not much of a story, is it?"
-
-"On the contrary, I think there is a great deal in it!" answered Darley,
-warmly. "I think I see that you loved this woman as only men with hearts
-like yours can love--once and for all."
-
-"Loved her? My love has no past participle, Darley! I shall always love
-her! I shall always think her the sweetest woman in the world, and the
-best! There is no other like her--God bless her! But you are sleepy, old
-fellow; and even Rosy is yawning and thinks it is time all decent people
-went to bed. Let us have one of the old-time horns, one of those old
-camp-fire nips--and then to bed. To-morrow you shall see our little
-town. By the way, did you bring your skates?"
-
-"Skates! I haven't seen one for five years."
-
-"Never mind. I have a dozen pairs, and I dare say we can fit you. Do
-you curl? No? Well, you shall learn. We have the finest rink within a
-hundred miles. Here's your room, old fellow! Good-night, and rosy dreams
-and slumbers bright, as Sir Walter says."
-
-The days passed happily for Darley. The ice was perfect; and though he
-had not skated for years, his old power over the art came swiftly back.
-The river was one glaring, narrow, indefinite sheet of incomparable ice.
-Then there was the curling-rink, of which Leonard was an ardent devotee.
-It is a quiet, satisfying sport, this "roaring" game, and has peculiar
-charms for the man who has turned forty. The snow-bird shooting was
-good, too, out in the broad white fields beyond the town. And one
-glittering night the pair drove out into the country, and went on a hunt
-after some depredatory foxes with some farmers. They did not get the
-foxes; but they had a jolly supper at the farm-house, and an eight-hand
-reel in the kitchen, which Darley thoroughly enjoyed--more, he affirmed
-to his black-eyed partner, than any ball in the city he had ever
-attended.
-
-One morning, Leonard having some business to detain him, Darley went off
-alone for the customary spin down the river. Skating out of the town
-and away past the white fields and the farmhouses, he presently espied a
-small feminine figure ahead of him, gliding quietly along. Suddenly
-the figure tripped and fell. One skate had come off and flew out to the
-center of the ice.
-
-Darley sped to the rescue. The little figure in gray made a futile
-attempt to rise.
-
-[Illustration: 0252]
-
-"Are you hurt?" exclaimed the rescuer as he wheeled to a short stop.
-
-The lady looked up, and Darley saw the likeness in an instant. It was
-the other Miss Charteris--not at all like his acquaintance of the city.
-A rather pale, patient little face, with quiet gray eyes set far apart;
-a plain face, Darley said to himself. But on second thought he decided
-that it was not.
-
-"I am afraid I have hurt my ankle," said this little woman in answer to
-Darley's inquiry. "I tried to stand up, but I got a twinge that told me
-something was wrong."
-
-"Let me help you. Which foot is it?"
-
-"This one," indicating the foot minus the skate.
-
-Darley lifted her up. "Now you keep the injured member off the ice," he
-said, "and I will skate you to shore."
-
-"It was all my fault," said the patient, as Darley knelt down and
-removed the remaining skate. "I would put on these old-fashioned things
-just because the blades are splendid."
-
-Darley secured the refractory skate and removed his own. Then he asked
-how the ankle felt.
-
-Miss Charteris attempted to stand upon both feet, but sat down upon the
-bank instantly.
-
-"It _does_ hurt," she said, as if unwilling to admit the painful fact.
-She looked at Darley almost appealingly, then about her. The nearest
-house was a quarter of a mile away. Finally she looked back at Darley,
-with an expression that seemed to say, What are we going to do now, I
-wonder?
-
-Darley made up his mind quickly. He always did when a woman was in the
-question. "You can't walk," he said; "I shall have to carry you."
-
-Miss Charteris' pale cheeks assumed a rapid flush. "I can walk," she
-said, hastily.
-
-"Very well," said Darley, gently. "Take my arm."
-
-A few painful steps proved to Miss Charteris that she _could_ walk, at
-the expense of excruciating agony. So, being a sensible little soul, she
-stopped.
-
-"You see, it is impossible," said her knight. "You will have to let me
-carry you, Miss Charteris. I beg your pardon for not introducing myself.
-I am Mr. Percy Darley, a guest at Mr. John Leonard's."
-
-"I knew you were Mr. Darley, but I don't see how you knew that I was
-Miss Charteris," said that young lady, looking surprised, and quite
-forgetting her ankle.
-
-"I have the pleasure of knowing your sister, and I recognized the
-likeness," answered Darley, truthfully. "Now, will you allow me? Or I am
-afraid I shall have to take the law into my own hands."
-
-"I am not the law," retorted Miss Charteris, attempting to proceed.
-
-"The very reason that I should become the law," answered Darley,
-laughing.
-
-"I think I can _hop_," said the girl, desperately. She did so for a few
-yards, and then came to a last halt. Hopping through deep snow proved
-rather heavy exercise.
-
-"I am afraid you will have to carry me," she said in a tone of
-surrender.
-
-Darley picked her up. She was no weight, this little gray thing, and
-Darley was an athletic young man. Despite the snow, it did not take him
-long to reach the farm-house.
-
-The farmer's wife was a kind soul, and knew Miss Charteris. She also
-knew a sprain, she said, when she saw one; and Miss Charteris' ankle was
-sprained. So, while the injured member was being attended to by the
-deft hand of the farmer's wife, Darley posted off to the town for Miss
-Charteris' aunt's sleigh, the farmer being absent with his own.
-
-Darley secured the sleigh, drove back to the farm-house, and his charge,
-her ankle warmly and carefully wrapped up, was placed in the cutter and
-driven home. The family doctor had already arrived, and Darley took his
-leave.
-
-"May I call and see how you are get-ing on?" he ventured as he said
-good-by.
-
-"I shall be happy if you will," said Miss Charteris. But the gray eyes
-seemed to say to Darley, Could you think of not doing so?
-
-"I am afraid you are in love, or on the way," said this young man to
-himself as he walked briskly to his friend's house. "In love, young
-fellow, and with a real woman, not a woman of the world, but a genuine
-sweet woman, one worth the loving."
-
-He related the story as simply as he could to Leonard, and the latter
-listened quietly. But Darley did not observe the odd look in his
-friend's eyes during the narration, nor did he guess that Leonard was
-saying to himself, Ah! my young friend, and have you, too, fallen at the
-first shaft?
-
-"Shall we go round to the rink?" suggested Leonard the following
-evening, after dinner, as they sat over their pipes.
-
-"I think I will stroll round and see how Miss Charteris is," said
-Darley, smoking furiously. "I will call in at the rink afterward, eh?"
-
-"Very well, old fellow," was all Leonard said.
-
-Darley found Miss Charteris' ankle improved. The doctor had pronounced
-it a severe sprain, had prescribed some wonderful liniment, and had
-alleviated the pain.
-
-"But I shall not be able to be out again for three weeks," said the
-invalid, plaintively, on the occasion of a second visit of anxious
-inquiry. "It is too bad; for I think open-air skating the most
-exhilarating of all sport! It always seems to lift me up."
-
-"It didn't seem to lift you up yesterday," suggested Darley.
-
-"No, indeed. I have thought since that I should be very grateful to you,
-because, if you had not happened along, I am sure I don't know what I
-should have done."
-
-"Don't talk like that, please," said Darley, gravely. It is wonderful
-the aversion a young man has to being thanked in a case of this sort--at
-least, his profession of dislike. "I cannot tell you how unfortunate
-I regard the doctor's mandate," said Darley after one of those awkward
-pauses between two young people who fancy, on a short acquaintance,
-that they have a tender regard for each other. "On your own account, of
-course, because I can understand how you feel over losing such a chance
-as the present ice affords; but chiefly, I am selfish enough to say, on
-my own behalf, because by the time you are able to skate again, even if
-the ice is still good, my visit will have come to an end; and I had been
-hoping, presumptuously enough, I know, to see you often."
-
-"Will it be really imperative for you to return so soon?" said Miss
-Charteris, working rapidly at the woolen hood on which she was engaged.
-
-"I am afraid so," answered Darley, with something very like a sigh. "I
-could not infringe on too much of Leonard's time----"
-
-"Ah! it is not the city which calls, then?"
-
-"No, it is not the city," answered Darley, laughing, and being angrily
-conscious that he was flushing. "But Jack is such a dear good fellow,
-that I know he would not dream of sending me away."
-
-Miss Charteris' eyes were on her work, and she plied her fingers
-rapidly.
-
-"Do you know Leonard very well, Miss Charteris?" continued Darley, as
-the girl did not venture a remark.
-
-"Oh, yes!" The tone might have suggested that Miss Charteris was
-agitated; but Darley went on, radiant and sublimely ignorant.
-
-"He is a grand fellow--the one man in the world that I would fall down
-and worship! I think Shakespeare must have had him in his vaticinal eye
-when he put those perfect words, that immortal eulogy, in the mouth
-of Antony: 'His life was gentle; and the elements so mixed in him that
-Nature might stand up and say to all the world, '_this_ was a man!'"
-
-The maid came in and asked if she should light the lamps.
-
-"Not just yet. I prefer this twilight. Do you, Mr. Darley?"
-
-"Very much--for itself. It is very satisfying and soothing, and always
-seems to me like a benediction. But it is very bad for your eyes, and
-very soon I shall be only able to half see your face."
-
-"Which will be very good for _your_ eyes. Well, I have done work
-for today." Miss Charteris laid the hood away, which Darley had been
-regarding curiously, and folded her hands in her lap. The action and the
-moment made Darley think of the "Angelus;" the "Angelus" made him think
-that it was getting late, and that made him think that it was time to
-go. The lamps, he said, had come round, and----
-
-"No, sit down, unless you really want to go," said Miss Charteris. She
-was remarkably frank, this young lady. "The lamps have not come round;
-and, on the contrary, I think that my disinclination for them should be
-taken as proof that I do not think it is time for you to go. Besides,
-the days are cruelly short now."
-
-"I find them so," answered Darley, softly. "Leonard is making everything
-so comfortable for me that I do not know what I shall feel like when the
-curtain has rung down. It will seem like awaking suddenly from dreamland
-to cold earth again. I am sure I shall feel like one of those mountains
-falling into the sea of dullness that Poe describes: 'Mountains toppling
-evermore into seas without a shore.'"
-
-"You seem a great admirer of Mr. Leonard," ventured Miss Charteris.
-There was just the slightest suspicion of jealousy in her tone, which
-Darley did not notice. Was it because he had inadvertently attributed
-his loneliness at leaving to his friend's kindness, and not paid her
-that little tribute of homage which women love? But who knoweth the
-heart of woman? Darley longed to tell her why he should feel lonely
-when he came to say good-by; but he did not wish to garnish such
-a declaration with quotations from poets. Let a man speak from the
-inspiration of the moment when he tells his love, or hints at it.
-
-"Admirer!" he echoed, in reply to Miss Charteris' remark. "It is more
-than that. Just think! We were inseparable for years. I wish we had
-remained so. No one who knows Jack Leonard as I have known him could
-help thinking him a perfect man, noble and generous, as he is!"
-
-"We are one in that opinion," answered Miss Charteris, quietly. "And,
-next to esteeming a noble man, I can esteem his friend who can speak so
-unselfishly and sincerely of him, as you have done."
-
-Darley felt touched--not so much at the words, but at the way in which
-they were spoken, gently, deeply, as if breathing of sincereness. But he
-did not distinguish anything beyond that in the grave eulogy to Leonard
-and himself.
-
-At length the lights _had_ to be brought in, and Darley rose to go.
-
-"You said you felt it unfortunate that I should be unable to skate,
-because you had been hoping to see me often," said Miss Charteris. She
-was conscious of a slight flush, but she went bravely on. In certain
-circumstances a woman _has_ to be what prudes call bold. "Did you mean
-it?"
-
-"How could you doubt that I meant it? I certainly did mean it."
-Darley was a little confused by this frankness. All true women must be
-coquettes in some degree, was Darley's creed. But Miss Charteris was
-hardly a coquette even in a slight degree, he thought. It was not
-frivolousness that prompted her to speak in this way.
-
-"Because, if you meant it," continued this charming young person, "I
-shall be glad if you will come and see me as often as you like, if you
-will not find it dull."
-
-Miss Spooner, Miss Charteris' aunt, came in at this moment and spoiled
-the eloquent look of reproach that Darley gave her niece.
-
-"Did you ever see such a girl!" exclaimed Miss Spooner in her high but
-pleasant voice. Miss Spooner's speech was emphatic, and endowed with
-realism. Darley felt like saying that he never had, indeed. "_I_ never
-did! Going into mourning, I believe, because she can't go out and break
-another ankle! You wouldn't catch _me_ on that ice! I saw it to-day from
-the bridge--horrible, shiny, treacherous stuff! Not going already, Mr.
-Darley? Better stop to tea."
-
-Darley said he could not stop to tea _that evening_; which meant that he
-could some other evening, of course, and would be unspeakably happy to
-do so. All of which Miss Spooner understood; and so she extended her
-hospitality to him for the next evening.
-
-*****
-
-"Do you know, Percy, I believe you are going to marry Miss Charteris,"
-said Leonard, quietly, one evening. "_Our_ Miss Charteris, I mean."
-
-"What makes you say so?"
-
-"I believe you are in love with her; in fact, I know you are. And I hope
-you will. Nothing could make me happier." Darley looked the satisfaction
-he could not speak at this little speech.
-
-"I am in love with her. But I am not good enough for her," he said,
-humbly. "I have been a worthless beggar all these years----"
-
-"You can prove your worth," said Leonard, warmly. "And you _must_, if
-you marry Florence Charteris. I know you are not worthless; but you must
-let the good come to the surface."
-
-"I shall work," answered Darley, earnestly. "I begin to feel now the
-approving glow that comes to a man when he anticipates marrying a woman
-he loves. But why should I anticipate? I have not the slightest reason
-to believe that Miss Charteris cares a jot for me!"
-
-"Is that true, Percy?" questioned Leonard, sharply.
-
-Darley did not know whether it was true or not. He did not like to be
-sanguine, he said. No; he had no reason to think Miss Charteris cared
-whether he went back to town to-morrow. Not an item of which Leonard
-believed.
-
-"I hope earnestly you will win her," he said again. "But you will have
-to retrench. Florence Charteris is as poor as a church mouse."
-
-"I am heartily glad of it," said Darley, warmly. "I shall be the man I
-have never yet been if I win her."
-
-"Well, you will win her," said Leonard. "I feel it in my bones."
-
-So the days went round; and each one found Darley at Miss Spooner's.
-Even little Dutton had begun to watch with interest the outcome of this
-quiet wooing of the little lady whom all the town loved. The evolutions
-of acquaintance had merged rapidly into the sweeter plane of an almost
-wordless courtship; but as yet Darley had not ventured to speak He felt
-fearful lest his dream should be dispelled; and yet, though he was not a
-vain man, he felt that this lovable little woman cared for him. He could
-not go back to town and leave his love unspoken, however; because if he
-had done so this little story would not have been written. And at length
-came the day when he felt that his visit had been prolonged beyond the
-limits that even close friendship allows.
-
-"I am going away to-morrow," he said on this eventful afternoon. It was
-just such an afternoon as that first one which he had spent there. It
-was growing dusk; and through the window they could see the red lights
-of home, those terrestrial apostles of Hesperus, punctuating the white
-landscape.
-
-"I am going away to-morrow," repeated Darley. Miss Charteris said
-nothing, but gazed out of the window.
-
-"Why don't you say something?" he burst out. "Have you nothing to say?"
-
-"What should I say? Do you want me to say good-by? Is it such a sweet
-word, then, that you are anxious that I should say it now?"
-
-Darley knelt beside the little dusky figure in the rocker. How sweet it
-is to have the woman you love speak to you like this, and to hear her
-voice tremble, and to feel that she cares for you!
-
-"No, I don't want you to say good-by," he said, very gently. "I want you
-to tell me not to go. Can't you see that the thought of leaving you has
-been like the thought of eternal darkness to me? I love you, and I
-want you for my own, always, that I may never know the bitterness of
-good-by!" Miss Charteris turned her head, and Darley saw that the gray
-eyes he loved so well were wet. She put out one little white hand till
-it rested on his.
-
-"Stay!" she whispered.
-
-After a while, when the lamps--those horribly real and unromantic
-things--were brought in, they talked of other matters. But both seemed
-very happy, and ready to talk of anything. Even the mysterious hood,
-which was now completed, came in for a share of attention, and the
-inquisitive Darley learned that it was for a "poor old soul," as Miss
-Charteris expressed it, who lived in a wretched little shanty with
-a worthless grandson, at the other end of the town. By-and-by Miss
-Charteris said:
-
-"I have some news for you. Bella was married yesterday. Can you guess to
-whom?"
-
-"No, I cannot," answered Darley, almost breathlessly. Bella was the
-Miss Charteris of the city. He did not know whether to feel glad or
-indifferent, but he was free of the gentlest touch of spleen. A woman
-will be conscious of a twinge of pique when she hears that a man with
-whom she has had some little love affair has married some one else. But
-Darley was not conscious of any such sensation.
-
-"It was very quiet," continued Miss Charteris. "At least, I gather so
-from the paper which tells me of it. Bella never writes me, and not
-even on this occasion has she done so. However, she is now Mrs. Lawrence
-Severance."
-
-"Oh!" exclaimed Darley in a superior tone, which testified that he knew
-something about it. Then he mentioned having met Severance. He had not
-said anything of the occurrence before, not caring for Miss Charteris of
-the city as a subject of conversation with her sister, for reasons best
-known to himself.
-
-"There is quite a little story about it, you know," continued Miss
-Florence. "Lawrence, you know, and Bella have been lovers ever since
-they were so high, and Bella was Aunt Mary Spooner's favorite. When Aunt
-Mary died she left a great deal of money for Bella when she should come
-of age, stipulating, however, that Bella should have only a certain
-allowance till she was beyond a marriageable age."
-
-"And, pray, what age is that?" asked Darley, laughing.
-
-"I should not have cared to ask Aunt Mary that question. The reason was
-that Lawrence was the son of an old sweetheart of Aunt Mary's, who had
-jilted her without any mercy; and so the sins of the father were visited
-upon the head of the son. 'Marry Lawrence, my dear,' says Aunt Mary, 'if
-you like, but you don't have my money. Florence shall have it the day
-you marry Lawrence Severance.'"
-
-Darley started as if stung. "Eh?" he exclaimed, "I don't understand!"
-
-"Then listen. 'Oh, ho!' quoth Lawrence, when he grew up and understood
-the story. 'So that is the way of love, is it? Well, there are more
-fortunes than Aunt Mary's in the world.' And away went Lawrence, nothing
-daunted, to win--what I hear he has won--double the fortune that Bella,
-in marrying him, hands over to me."
-
-"Then you mean to say that this--money comes to you; that you are a rich
-woman, in fact?" Darley's tone was almost bitten.
-
-"Yes!" answered Miss Florence, gleefully, and clapping her little hands.
-"Aren't you glad?"
-
-"Glad? I hate it!"
-
-"Hate it?"
-
-"Yes, hate it! I was glorying in the fact that if I won you I would
-marry a poor woman. Now--" Darley did not finish his sentence.
-
-"You must not talk like that," said Miss Florence with some asperity.
-"It is very wrong, and it hurts me, although I know I should be pleased.
-But I know you love me for all that. Money is a very good thing--God's
-gift in the hands of those who use it well. There is a great deal of
-good that we can do with Aunt Mary's money. She was very good herself
-to the poor, despite her unnatural dislike for Lawrence Severance; and I
-should like her to know that her mantle had fallen on worthy shoulders.
-You and I shall use this money to a great purpose."
-
-"But you don't know what a happy thing it has been to me, this thought
-of winning you and proving my love by earnest work!"
-
-"And need that resolve be dissipated?" said Miss Florence, gravely. "You
-shall do that. There is a great deal of work to be done."
-
-*****
-
-Leonard met Darley on his return, and drew him into the light.
-
-"I have won her, Jack!" said the younger man, grasping his friend's
-hand. "The sweetest and the noblest woman God ever made!"
-
-"I see it in your face," said Leonard, huskily. Even Darley could not
-fail to notice the change in his friend's voice. "What is the matter,
-old man?" he exclaimed. "You----"
-
-"Nothing, nothing, my boy," Leonard answered quickly. "But promise me
-one thing: that you will make her a noble husband, always--always!"
-
-Then Darley understood.
-
-"Dear old Jack!" he said tenderly. "What a fool I have been! Can you
-forgive me?"
-
-"There is nothing to forgive, my boy--nothing. But you must always be
-good to her. But never get angry because another man besides yourself
-worships your wife."
-
-[Illustration: 0265]
-
-[Illustration: 0266]
-
-
-
-
-THE BEAR 'S-HEAD BROOCH, By Ernest Ingersoll
-
-
-[Illustration: 0267]
-
-[Illustration: 0268]
-
-[Illustration: 9268]
-
-HE story I am about to narrate happened this way, Thomas Burke and I
-were old schoolmates. But his course and mine had been widely divergent
-for a score of years, so that by the time he had brought his family back
-to New York, and our acquaintance could be renewed, many untold things
-had happened to each.
-
-I knew Tom had won his fortune by mining in the Rocky Mountains. It was
-rumored that his accomplished wife also had wealth in her own right, but
-Tom never had much to say in regard to his financial matters, and I did
-not like to question him notwithstanding our intimacy. I had dined with
-him two Christmases in succession, and now for the third time had eaten
-my Christmas dinner at his table.
-
-On each of these occasions Mrs. Burke had worn at her throat a
-magificient brooch which I had never seen at any other time, though I
-had met her often when such an ornament would have been suitable enough.
-This brooch was a bear's face, holding in its teeth a tiny steel key.
-It was a marvel of delicacy in the goldsmith's art, and evidently very
-costly; for the eyes were each a ruby, and the head was encircled with
-large diamonds, half hidden by hairs of gold, as though they represented
-a collar round bruin's hirsute neck.
-
-"Tom," I said, when Mrs. Burke had left us to ourselves after dinner, "I
-am very curious about that bear's head brooch your wife wears. Why do
-I never see it except at Christmas? I am sure it has a history, and if
-there is no secret about it I wish you would enlighten me."
-
-"Well," said my old friend, "that is rather a lengthy story. There is no
-secret about it--at least none to keep from an old chum like you. As for
-the brooch, that's only an ornament I had made some years ago; but the
-design and the little key--which is a real key--remind Marion and myself
-of what we call our Christmas story, because it culminated on that day.
-
-"When you and I left the old university in 1870, and you came here, and
-I went West----"
-
-But if I were to tell the story as he did, it would hardly be as plain
-to you as it was to me. I must write it out.
-
-When Tom Burke left the university after his graduation he took the few
-hundred dollars which were the measure of his capital and went to the
-Rocky Mountains to seek his fortune. In the autumn of 1871 he became
-the superintendent of the Crimson Canyon Mining Company in Southern
-Colorado, where he found as assayer, and scientific assistant generally,
-a queer, learned and proud old Scotchman named Corbitt. This man had
-been one of the "Forty-niners" and had made a fortune which he had
-greatly enjoyed while it lasted, and the loss of which, in some
-wrong-headed speculation, he never ceased to deplore.
-
-Now, a few weeks before Tom's arrival at the camp, Corbitt's home had
-been brightened by the coming of his daughter Marion, on what he told
-his envious acquaintances was a "veesit," implying that she could not be
-expected to make her home there.
-
-And truly this remote mountain settlement, inclement in climate,
-uncouth, dusty, filled with rough men, and bountiful only in pure air
-and divine pictures of crag and glen, icy-blue peaks and chromatic
-patches of stained cliff above or flower meadow below--all this was
-anything but the sort of place for a girl like her to spend her maiden
-days in.
-
-Perhaps it was not quite a case of love at first sight between her and
-Tom, but certainly the winter had not passed before each had confessed
-that there was no one else in the world beside the other whose presence
-much mattered in the way of happiness.
-
-But that seemed to be the end of it, for Corbitt gave young Burke to
-understand most decisively that he could hope for nothing more--an
-engagement to marry was out of the question.
-
-"Love, let us wait," was Marion's last word, when, on her first and last
-tryst, she had stolen away to meet him, and he counted her kisses as a
-miser counts his gold.
-
-"Let us wait. I care for nobody else, and nobody can marry me against
-my will. We are young yet. Who knows what may happen? You may get money
-enough to satisfy papa--I don't suppose he holds me at a very, very high
-price, do you? Or I may be freer after a while to do as I wish."
-
-This was commonplace advice enough, but Tom saw both the good sense and
-the pure love in it, and accepted the decree, steeling his heart against
-the impulses of rage and revolt.
-
-And then, quite unexpectedly, Mr. Corbitt resigned his place and went
-to Denver, taking his family with him. The same week the mine changed
-owners, and Burke was superseded by a new superintendent; and so, almost
-at a stroke, the lad lost both his sweetheart and the weapon by which he
-was to fight for her in the business tournament of the world. However,
-the latter evil was presently remedied, and he worked on, saving his
-money and teasing his brain for suggestions how to make it increase
-faster.
-
-At that time the mighty range had never been very carefully prospected.
-Men had, indeed, ascended Crimson Creek to its sources in search of
-the deposits of quartz whence the auriferous gravels below had been
-enriched, but they had brought back a discouraging report. Tom was
-not satisfied to accept their conclusions. He was confident, from the
-geological and other indications, that treasures of ore lay undiscovered
-among those azure heights. At last, resolved to see for himself, he
-enlisted the help of a young miner and mountaineer named Cooper, and one
-day late in August they started.
-
-After passing the pillared gateways of the Canyon, and ascending for a
-few miles the great gorge down which the creek cascaded over boulders
-and ledges of granite and rounded fragments of trachyte and quartz, you
-come to a noble cataract leaping into the Canyon from the left through a
-narrow gash or depression in the wall. By climbing up the opposite slope
-a little way, you see that this stream comes tumbling white and furious
-down a long rugged stairway of rocky fragments before it reaches the
-brink, whence it shoots out in the air and then falls in a thousand
-wreaths of dangling vapor.
-
-"Cooper," Tom called out to his companion, who was more comrade than
-servant, "I guess we'll camp here. I want to examine this side gorge a
-bit."
-
-"It looks to me," remarked Tom, "as if this had formerly been the main
-stream, and had carried pretty much all the drainage of the valley until
-a big landslide--and it didn't happen so very long ago either--dammed
-the exit of the valley and changed the shape of things generally, eh?"
-
-"That's about the size of it, I guess. But, I say, ain't that smoke down
-there by the lake?"
-
-[Illustration: 0276]
-
-"I reckon we've got time enough to go and see. It ain't far down there,
-and the moon'll show us the way back if we get late."
-
-Noting their bearings, they began the descent toward the lake and
-presently came out upon its border, where the walking was easier.
-Advancing cautiously half a mile or thereabout, they again caught sight
-of the smoke through the bushes--a feeble column rising from some embers
-before a small shelter of boughs and bark that hardly deserved the
-name of hut. A skillet, a light pick and shovel, and one or two other
-household articles lay near by, but nothing alive appeared.
-
-"No Injun 'bout that," said Cooper.
-
-"No, Cooper; more likely a prospector."
-
-Hallooing as they neared the hut, a lean and miserable dog rushed out
-and greeted them with ferocious growls, whereupon they heard a weak
-voice speaking to him, and saw a frowsy gray head and a bony hand,
-clutching a revolver, stretched out of the opening that answered for a
-door.
-
-[Illustration: 0284]
-
-"Hello!" Tom cried. "Call off your dog; we're friends."
-
-Then a tousled, ragged, gaunt-limbed figure, emaciated with hunger, wild
-eyed with fever, dragged itself from the sheltering brush, gave one long
-look at the stalwart strangers, and fell back on the stony ground in a
-dead faint, while the dog, rushing forward with the courage of a starved
-wolf, planted himself before the corpse-like form and defied them to
-touch it.
-
-They fought off the animal, brought water from the lake and revived the
-man. A dram from Tom's flask stimulated him, whereupon he sat up and
-began to chatter incoherently, thanks to God and wild exclamations about
-some hidden treasure mingling with such plaintive cries as "She'll be
-all right now!" and "Mebbe she'll forgive her old dad!" making up the
-whole of his ceaseless talk.
-
-"He's clean crazy!" was Cooper's opinion.
-
-"Yes," Tom assented, "but it is fever and famine. Couldn't you shoot a
-rabbit or something? Then I could make him a stew. Try it."
-
-But all that Cooper could quickly find to kill were three mountain jays,
-which were converted into a broth, thickened with the dust of flour that
-remained. A little tea was also found in the sick man's pack, and this
-was brewed for him. Then Cooper volunteered to go back to their own camp
-and bring over more food and Tom's little medicine case.
-
-The next day he fetched the rest of their luggage, and in the afternoon
-shot a deer. So they encamped here beside the lake and nursed the old
-fellow until his fever subsided and the delirium had ceased to a great
-extent. Then by easy stages, partly carrying him on a stretcher, partly
-assisting him to walk, they managed to take him back to Crimson Camp and
-gave him a bed in Tom's cabin.
-
-But the strain of this effort had been too much for the aged and feeble
-frame. No sooner was the excitement of the march at an end than a
-relapse occurred, and for a fortnight the old man hovered on the edge of
-death; skill and care seemed to conquer, however, and one morning peace
-came to the tortured brain and the old prospector began to get better.
-
-Now at last he was awake, with seeming intelligence in his eyes, asking
-where he was and who were the people around him. Tom explained and then
-questioned him in return.
-
-But the mystery was not to be so easily solved. The invalid could
-not tell his name, nor where he had come from. He said he had been
-prospecting all his life--where--how long--all particulars were a blank.
-
-"I can't remember anything but the cache--nothing else at all," he
-declared, gazing piteously into one face after another.
-
-"Tell us about that, then."
-
-He felt in his bosom and drew out the little pouch. It was opened for
-him and its contents--a fragment of quartz heavy with gold and a tiny
-steel key--taken out.
-
-"Ah! What do you call that?" he inquired eagerly, pointing to the yellow
-metal.
-
-"Gold."
-
-"Yes? Well, there is lots of that in my cache."
-
-"Where is your cache?" inquired Tom.
-
-The old fellow dropped his head and tried to think, but couldn't clutch
-any of the motes of memory dodging like phantasmagoria before his eyes.
-
-"I can't tell," he confessed, with infinite sadness. "I reckon I'd know
-the place if I saw it. And I've forgotten everything before that, but it
-seems to me that I fell a great ways, and lay for years and years with
-an awful pain in my head. Then all at once my head got better and I
-opened my eyes--mebbe it was a dream--and there I and the dog were in
-a little camp 'way up a big gulch. I knew the place, but I felt kind o'
-weak and dizzy-like and 'lowed I'd make a cache o' all my stuff, and go
-down to Del Nort' and see a doctor. So I dug a hole beside a big rock
-that had a peculiar mark on it, and put into it most o' my grub and some
-papers, and a lot o' that yellow stuff--what d'ye call it?--and reckoned
-they'd be safe till I come back in three or four weeks. I can remember
-all about the cache and my camp there, and my leavin' it and climbin'
-down a devilish steep place, and there I stop and can't remember nothin'
-since."
-
-This was absolutely all that was left of the man's memory, and, though
-he was now quite sane, he had to be taught the names and uses of many
-of the commonest objects. Moreover, he seemed to grow weaker instead
-of stronger, and after a few days the physician announced that his
-patient's end was near. When the old fellow was told this he called Tom
-to his bedside, and said to him:
-
-"Pardner, you've done the square thing by me, and I want you to have
-half the traps in that cache after I've passed in my checks, and give
-the other half to--to--oh, God! Now I can't remember!"
-
-Then his face brightened again.
-
-"Oh, the letters'll tell! Read the letters and give her half of it. I'll
-sign a paper if you'll write it."
-
-So a will was made, and the dying man made a mark before witness, in
-lieu of the signature he had lost the power to make, and the next day he
-died.
-
-The miners generally believed the stranger's story of this cache to be
-a figment of his disordered imagination, and Tom himself might have
-yielded to this theory had not the physician assured him that there was
-a fair chance of its truth.
-
-So Tom preserved the will, the quartz and the key, hoping that chance
-might sometime disclose the treasure trove if there were any; and a
-few days later he and young Cooper started a second time on their
-prospecting tour. This time they took a burro with them, and so were
-able to carry a small tent and outfit for a fortnight's trip.
-
-By active marching they reached the lake that night, finding it slow
-work to get their unwilling donkey up the steep rocks at the fall, by a
-circuitous trail and aided by some actual lifting of the little beast.
-They researched the hut, but found nothing new. The dog, now fat
-and strong, and a devoted friend, accompanied them and betrayed most
-excitedly his recognition of the bivouac. Next morning they made their
-way up to the head of the lake, where the breadth of the gulch and the
-appearance of things confirmed Tom's previous surmise that this was
-originally the main channel of drainage.
-
-If this were true they ought to get evidence of drift gold; and several
-days were spent in panning the gravels (nowhere, however, of great
-extent), with most encouraging results. A few miles above the lake they
-found the gulch forked into two ravines divided by a rocky spur. They
-chose the right-hand one and lost three days in fruitless exploration of
-its bed and walls. Shep (the dog was a collie and they had rechristened
-him) did not display anything like the joy he had shown in the advance
-up the main stream, and when they finally returned to the forks
-they could not but notice his renewed spirits. The dog was again all
-eagerness, and intensely delighted when on the following morning they
-started up the left-hand gulch.
-
-"It looks as though his master had come down that way, doesn't it?"
-said Tom. "Maybe he could guide us right back to where he came from; but
-he'll have to wait a while, for I like the look of that crag up there,"
-directing his companion's attention to the crest of the wall on the
-left, "and I want to examine it. You'd better stay here and try to get a
-blacktail. Bacon three times a day is getting monotonous."
-
-"Don't you think you'd better take the Winchester?" said Cooper. (They
-had brought but one rifle.) "You might hit up against a grizzly or a
-mountain lion. I heard one of 'em screeching last night."
-
-"No; I can't lug a gun. I've got my six shooter, and I'll risk it. Come
-on, Shep! It's noon now, and we won't get back to supper if we don't
-hurry."
-
-The dog raced gleefully ahead as the young man strode up the gulch,
-scanning its rugged slope in search of a convenient place to begin the
-ascent, and presently, as though cognizant of the plan, the dog turned
-aside and with loud barking and much tail wagging invited attention to a
-dry watercourse that offered a sort of path.
-
-"I guess you're right, Shep," Tom assented, and set his face to the
-sturdy climb.
-
-Half way up a ledge, covered with cedars and Spanish bayonet, made the
-ascent really arduous for a little way, and here the dog, which as usual
-was some rods in advance, suddenly began barking furiously, and capering
-around a small object.
-
-"Chipmunk, I reckon," said Tom to himself, as he scrambled on, short of
-breath; but when Shep came sliding down, holding in his mouth a battered
-old felt hat, curiosity changed to amazement. The dog growled at first,
-and refused to give up his prize, but after a little coaxing yielded it
-into Tom's hands.
-
-The old prospector had had no hat when found. Could this be it? It did
-not seem to have lain out of doors long, and the dog would hardly show
-so much interest unless his sharp nose had recognized it as something
-belonging to his former inaster. Closely scrutinizing, Tom found tucked
-into the lining a slip of sweat-stained paper with a name upon it--
-
-ARTHUR F. PIERSON,
-
-Tucsony Arizona.
-
-Stuffing the hat into his pocket Tom scrambled on, thinking out the
-meaning of the incident; and now he began to notice in this steeper
-place that some of the boulders had been misplaced, and here and there
-was a broken branch, as, if someone had descended very hastily or
-clumsily.
-
-"If that crazy old man came down here, and perhaps caught a second bad
-fall, I don't wonder he was used up by the time he reached the lake"
-was Tom's mental ejaculation, as he toiled up the acclivity and at last,
-panting and leg weary, gained a narrow grassy level at the foot of a
-crag "spiked with firs," which had been conspicuous from the valley not
-only by its height and castellated battlements, but because a colossal X
-was formed on its face by two broad veins of quartz crossing each other.
-
-With his eyes fixed upon the rocky wall he walked along in the face of
-a stiff breeze, until he noticed a pinkish streak upon the dark cliff,
-betokening the outcrop of another vein, and turned aside to climb a pile
-of fallen fragments at the foot of the crag to reach it. These fragments
-were overgrown with low, dense shrubbery. He ducked his head and was
-pushing into them, when suddenly he saw a huge brown body rise almost
-into his face, heard the tremendous growl of a grizzly, and amid a crash
-of bushes and dislodged stones felt himself hurled backward.
-
-Clutching instinctively at one of the shrubs as he fell, he whirled
-under its hiding foliage, and the vicious stroke of the bear's paw
-came down upon his leg instead of his head, while the released branches
-snapped upward into the face of the brute, which, as much surprised
-as its victim, paused in its onslaught to collect its wits. An
-instant later Shep dashed up, and at the bear's hindquarters. Bruin
-spasmodically sank his claws deeper into Tom's thigh, but turned his
-head and shoulders with a terrific ursine oath at this new and most
-palpable enemy; and ten seconds afterward Tom's revolver, its muzzle
-pressed close underneath the bear's ear, had emptied half an ounce of
-lead into its brain. A blood-freezing death squeal tore the air, and the
-ponderous carcass sank down, stone dead, upon Tom's body and upon the
-dwarfed spruce which covered it. It pinned him to the ground with an
-almost insupportable weight. Perhaps if the animal alone had lain upon
-him he might have wriggled out; but the brute's carcass also held down
-the tough and firmly-rooted tree, and the rocks on each side formed a
-sort of trough. Turn and strain as he would Tom could not free
-himself from the burden which threatened to smother him. Moreover, the
-convulsive death throe had forcibly tightened the grip of the claws
-in the side of his knee, which felt as if in some horrible torturing
-machine of the Inquisition; and had he not been able at last to reach
-that paw with his left hand and pull it away from the wound he would
-have died under the agony.
-
-Then, as he felt the blood running hot and copious down his leg, a new
-fear chilled his heart. Might he not bleed to death? There seemed no end
-to the hemorrhage, and what hope had he of succor? He thought of firing
-signals of distress, but could not reach the pistol, which had been
-knocked out of his hand. He spoke to the dog, which was barking and
-worrying at the bear's hind leg, and Shep came and licked his face and
-sniffed at his blood-soaked trousers. Then, as if even he realized how
-hopeless was the situation, he sat on his haunches and howled until Tom,
-hearing him less and less distinctly, imagined himself a boulder slowly
-but musically crunching to powder under the resistless advance of a
-glacier, and lost consciousness as the cold-blue dream-ice closed over
-his dust.
-
-By and by he awoke. It was dark, and something cold and soft was blowing
-against his face. He moved and felt the shaggy fur and the horrible
-pain in his leg and in his right arm, which was confined in a twisted
-position. Then he remembered, but forgot again.
-
-A second time he awoke. It was still dark, but a strange pallor
-permeated the air, and all around him was a mist of white.
-
-It was snowing fast. He closed his left hand and grasped a whole fistful
-of flakes. The body of the bear was a mound of white--like a new-made
-grave over him, he dismally thought. The snow had drifted under and
-about his shoulders. Its chill struck the wound in his thigh, which
-throbbed as though hit with pointed hammers, keeping time to the
-pulsations of his heart; but, thank God! he no longer felt that horrible
-warm trickling down his leg. He had been preserved from bleeding to
-freeze to death. How long before that would happen; or, if it were not
-cold enough for that, how long before the snow would drift clear over
-him and cut off the little breath which that ponderous, inert, dead-cold
-beast on his chest prevented from entering his lungs? Where was the
-dog? He called feebly: "Shep! Shep! Hi-i-i, Sh-e-p!" But no moist nose
-or rough tongue responded. He tried to whistle, but his parched mouth
-refused. Heavens, how thirsty! He stretched out his hand and gathered
-the snow within his reach. Then he closed his eyes and dreamed that two
-giants were pulling him asunder, and that a third was pouring molten
-lead down his throat.
-
-But it was only Bill Cooper trying to make him drink whiskey.
-
-He understood it after a little and realized that he ought to swallow.
-Then life came back, and with the knowledge that he was no longer
-alone on the cold, remote, relentless mountain top, but that Cooper was
-lifting away the bear, and that Shep was wild with sympathy and gladness
-because he had been able to bring help, came courage and forbearance of
-his suffering. In the morning new strength came with the sunshine. The
-snow rapidly melted. Cooper got breakfast and Tom rebandaged his knee.
-
-"These gashes won't amount to much, unless the claws were poisoned.
-You'll have to make me a crutch, and give me a couple of days to get rid
-of the stiffness, but then I'll be all right."
-
-"How did you and the bear get into this scrimmage, anyhow? You surely
-didn't go hunting him with that there six shooter?"
-
-"Not I. The wind was blowing hard toward me, so he didn't smell nor hear
-me, and I ran right on to him. Shep was not there to warn me, but if he
-hadn't come back just as he did, or if I hadn't been able to get at my
-revolver, Old Ephraim would ha' used me up in about a minute."
-
-"I ain't a betting on one pistol shot against a grizzly, anyhow."
-
-"Of course, the chances were about one in a thousand, but I wasn't going
-to die without a shot. I suppose the bullet struck the lower part of the
-brain."
-
-"Yes," said Bill, who had been probing its track. "Tore it all to
-pieces. But what was the bear after in that brush?"
-
-"Give it up--ants, likely. You know--Great Scott! What's that dog got
-now?" Shep was coming out of the bushes, dragging a package wrapped in
-buckskin which was almost too heavy for him to handle. Cooper went and
-took it from him and brought it to the fire. It was a sort of pouch
-firmly tied with a thong. Running a knife under this the bundle fell
-apart, and a double handful of flakes and nuggets of gold and quartz
-rolled out.
-
-"The cache!" Tom shouted, comprehending instantly the meaning of this.
-"The bear was tearing it to pieces!"
-
-It was true. His strong feet had displaced the loosely-heaped stones,
-and a half-devoured side of bacon lay close by where the animal had been
-disturbed.
-
-Evidently the marauder had just begun his work. There remained in the
-cache two more pouches of gold--perhaps a quart of the metal pieces in
-all, more or less pure, for all of it had been dug out of a vein with
-hammer and knife point, none of the fragments showing the water-worn
-roundness characteristic of placer gold. Then there were a small
-quantity of provisions, some ammunition and a small rosewood box with an
-ornamental brass lock having a remarkably small and irregular keyhole.
-
-From an inner pocket of his purse Tom drew the odd little key the dead
-prospector had given him. It fitted into the hole and easily turned the
-lock. The cover sprang open, revealing a package of letters. He lifted
-them out, but did not pause to read them.
-
-Then came an envelope containing a patent to ranch lands in Arizona,
-certificates of stock in Mexican and other mines that Burke had never
-heard of, and a commission as lieutenant of artillery in the Confederate
-army. All these documents were made out to "Arthur F. Pierson,"
-establishing the fact that the lost hat was really that worn by the old
-man, as his dog had recognized.
-
-At the bottom of the box, however, Tom found what interested him most--a
-formal "claim" and description of the lode whence the gold had been
-taken, and how to reach it from this cache. It was written in pencil, in
-a very shaky hand, on two or three soiled leaves torn from a memorandum
-book and eked out with one of the covers.
-
-Then Tom took up the letters. Most of them were recent and of business
-importance, but several were old and worn with much handling. One of
-these latter was from a lawyer in San Francisco, acknowledging funds
-"sent for the support of your infant daughter," describing her health
-and growth, and the care taken of her "at the convent"--all in curt
-business phrase, but precious to the father's heart. Then there were
-two or three small letters, printed and scratched in a childish hand, to
-"dear, dear papa," and signed "Your little Polly." One of these spoke of
-Sister Agatha and Sister Theresa, showing that it was written while
-the child was still in the convent; but the others, a little later,
-prattled about a new home with "my new papa and mamma," but gave no clew
-to name or place.
-
-"This baby girl--she must be a young woman now, if she lives," Tom
-mused--"is evidently the person the poor old chap wanted me to divide
-with. It ought not to be difficult to trace her from San Francisco, I
-suppose the convent Sisters knew where she went to when they gave her
-up. But, hello! here's a picture."
-
-It was an old-fashioned daguerrotype of a handsome woman of perhaps
-four-and-twenty, in bridal finery, whose face seemed to him to have
-something familiar in its expression. But no name or date was to be
-found, and with the natural conclusion that this was probably Pierson's
-wife he puzzled a moment more over the pretty face, and then put it
-away.
-
-After a few days, when Burke was able to travel, the prospector's
-memorandum and their mountain craft together led them almost directly
-to the coveted gold vein, which ran across a shoulder of the mountain at
-the head of the gulch, like an obscure trail, finally disappearing under
-a great talus at the foot of a line of snowcapped crags.
-
-Tracing it along, they presently came upon the old man's claim marks.
-The stakes were lettered pathetically with the name of the old man's
-choosing--"Polly's Hope."
-
-Adjoining the "Hope" Tom staked out one claim for himself and another
-for his sweetheart, intending to do the proper assessment work on it
-himself if Corbitt couldn't or wouldn't; and Cooper used up most of
-what remained of the visible outcrop in a claim for himself.
-
-Returning to town their claims were registered in the Crimson Mineral
-District, and their report sent a flight of gold hunters in hot haste to
-the scene.
-
-Tom Burke, after selling everything he could send to market to turn
-into ready money, departed to Denver, carrying with him documents and
-specimens of the gold quartz to support his assertions.
-
-Keen men f�ted and flattered him, buttonholing him at every corner with
-whispered advice, and many proffered schemes. But he was indifferent to
-it all, and anxious as yet only to hear what Marion should say.
-
-Not a word had he heard from her directly during all the weeks of
-her absence, but indirectly he knew she had been a star in the local
-society. He had even to hunt out where she lived, finding it in a
-cottage near where the stately court house now stands.
-
-He went there, after tea, with a fastbeating heart. Had she forgotten,
-or withdrawn or been turned away by hardhearted parents and friends? He
-suspected everything and everybody, yet could give no reasons. And how
-absurd these fears looked to him--how _foolish!_--when, sitting in the
-little parlor, hand in hand, they talked over the past, and she confided
-that the same doubts had worried her now and then--"most of all, Tom,
-dear, when I hear of this wonderful success of yours."
-
-"Bless me! I had forgotten it. By your side all else----"
-
-Here the door opened--not too abruptly--and Mr. Corbitt came in, grimly
-hospitable and glad, no doubt for his own sake, to see this young fellow
-who was still true to his daughter; while Mrs. Corbitt was more openly
-cordial, as became her.
-
-"An' what's this we're hearin' aboot your new mines? They're sayin'
-down town that you've struck a regular bonanza, an'll soon be worth your
-meellions. But I told 'em 'Hoot! I'd heard the like o' that before!'"
-
-So Tom recounted briefly the story of the prospector's death and his
-will; still more briefly his adventure with the grizzly, and how it led
-to the curious disclosure of the cache. Then, with no little dramatic
-force, seeing how interested was his audience, he described the hunt for
-the vein and the finding it, produced his specimens and handed to Miss
-Marion a mass of almost solid gold embedded in its matrix.
-
-"I can't promise you," he said, as she tried to thank him with her eyes
-and a timid touch of her fingers, "that the whole ledge will equal that,
-but it is a genuine sample from near the surface."
-
-"Wonderful! Wonderful!" the old Scotchman ejaculated, with gleaming
-eyes, as Tom went on to show how regular and secure was the title to
-this possession. "But did ye no find out the name of the poor vagabone?"
-
-"Oh, yes. Didn't I mention it? His name was Arthur Pierson."
-
-Corbitt and his wife both started from their seats.
-
-"Man, did I hear ye aright?--_Arthur F. Pierson?_"
-
-"That was the name exactly. I can show it to you on the letters."
-
-"An' he charged ye to give the half of all ye found to his daughter
-Polly?"
-
-"Yes, and I mean to try to find her."
-
-"_There she sits!_" cried Mother Corbitt excitedly, before her cautious
-husband, could say "Hush!"--pointing at Marion, who gazed from one
-to the other, too much amazed to feel grieved yet at this stunning
-announcement. "We took the lassie when she was a wee bairn, and she
-would never ha' known she wasn't ours really till maybe we were dead and
-gone. Her feyther was a cankert, fashious body, but her mother was
-guid and bonnie (I knew her well in the auld country) and she died when
-Mary--that's you, my dearie--was born."
-
-"Is this her picture?" Tom asked, showing the daguerrotype.
-
-"Aye, that it is. Puir Jennie!"
-
-The rest is soon told. A company of capitalists was formed to work the
-four consolidated claims on the new vein, under the name of the Hope
-Mining Company.
-
-[Illustration: 0293]
-
-All the next season was spent by Tom Burke in developing the property
-and erecting machinery. Corbitt was there too, much thawed by the sun of
-prosperity, but his wife and daughter remained in Denver. In the autumn,
-however, the ladies went East, and as the holidays approached Tom and
-Corbitt followed them to New York, where, on Christmas eve, my hero and
-heroine were married quietly in a little church up town; and his gift
-to her was the brooch which had attracted my attention and whose
-significance was now plain.
-
-[Illustration: 0293]
-
-[Illustration: 0294]
-
-
-
-
-MISS GWYNNE'S BURGLAR, By Violet Etynge Mitchell
-
-|IN the heart of Wales, nestling between two dark frowning mountains,
-and lulled to drowsy indifference of the big outside world by the
-murmurs of the not far distant sea, stands the little village of
-Cod-y-glyn.
-
-Just outside the village, on the main road stands--or did stand ten
-years ago--an old stone house, in the middle of a large garden, which
-was surrounded on all sides by a high wall, also of stone. It was the
-pride of the owner, Miss Gwynne.
-
-One night, in the early spring of the year, there was to be a wedding at
-Cod-y-Glyn--a wedding in humble life, but anticipated with great glee by
-the invited guests, among whom were Miss Gwynne's servants, the coachman
-and his wife (who was also cook) and Ylva, their daughter, employed as a
-maid-of-all-work.
-
-Knowing the disappointment it would be to them if they were denied the
-pleasure of attending the wedding, she had declined the coachman's offer
-to remain with her, allowing his wife and daughter to go, and laughingly
-assured him that with her father's gun for company she feared nothing.
-
-Miss Gwynne retired at an early hour, having locked up the house.
-
-She lay for some time gazing through the window at the twinkling stars,
-lost in quiet retrospection.
-
-I will let Miss Gwynne tell the rest of the story in her own way,
-repeating as well as I can from memory the words as I heard them from
-her lips ten years ago.
-
-*****
-
-I cannot tell if I dozed or not, but I was conscious of the moon shining
-dimly through the clouds, and I wondered how long I had lain there.
-Reaching out for my watch, which lay on the table, I was horrified to
-feel my wrist grasped and held by a firm hand.
-
-To say I was frightened would be less correct than to say I was
-astounded, for I have always been a woman of steady nerve, and the
-present occasion called for its use.
-
-The moon had retired behind a heavy curtain of clouds, and the room was
-in complete darkness, but from the drapery at my bedside issued a voice,
-and at the same time the python-like grasp on my wrist relaxed.
-
-"I beg to apologize, madam," said this voice; "I have chosen a bungling
-manner of awakening you--foreign to my custom. Pardon me, and do not be
-alarmed. I merely wish to relieve you of any superfluous silver, jewelry
-or bank notes you do not absolutely need. But as the vandalism of
-breaking locks is out of my line, I will request you to arise and show
-me where such things are kept."
-
-By the time he had finished this speech I was myself again.
-
-"Very well," I said, "I'll get up and show you; but, as it is
-embarrassing to dress in your presence, will you step out into the hall
-and close the door while I put on my clothing?"
-
-There was a soft rustling of the curtains at the bedside, and the sound
-of footsteps on the carpet, and immediately afterward the door closed.
-
-"Five minutes, madam, is all I can give you," remarked the burglar, as
-he disappeared.
-
-It took me (after lighting the candle) two minutes to slip on a warm
-skirt, and a blue flannel wrapper over it; then, sticking my feet into
-a pair of down slippers, I had still time to snatch a roll of bills
-amounting to one hundred pounds, and pin them deftly to the lining of
-the canopy above my four-post bed.
-
-Then throwing open the door I stood on the sill facing my visitor, and
-threw the glare of the lighted candle full upon him, as he lolled in a
-careless, easy attitude against the bannisters.
-
-I had been prepared for a burglar--but I had looked for one attired
-according to the traditions of my ancestors. But here was a gentlemanly,
-mild-featured individual, such as I should have expected to find filling
-the position of a professor of Latin--perhaps of theology--in Oxford
-University.
-
-There was no appearance of a jimmy, or tools of any kind. Evidently here
-was a type of criminal with which history was unacquainted.
-
-"Madam!" he exclaimed, bowing with the grace of a French courtier, "you
-are punctuality itself. And how charming!--no hysterics--no distressing
-scenes. Allow me." He took the candle from my hand, and holding it aloft
-preceded me down the great oaken stairs, talking fluently all the while,
-but pausing at every other step to glance over his shoulder at me with
-coquettish politeness.
-
-"I wish to assure you," he remarked, "that I am no ordinary
-house-breaker. Burglary is with me a _profession_, though not the one
-(I confess) chosen for me by my parents. I saw, at an early age, that
-I must either descend to the level of the burglar, or raise him to the
-level of an artist. Behold, my dear lady, the result."
-
-He stood at the foot of the stairs and looked up at me.
-
-"Shall we proceed to the diningroom?" he asked airily; "and, as I wish
-to give you no unnecessary trouble, let me say that I do not dabble in
-_plated_ spoons; nothing but solid silver."
-
-I opened the old mahogany sideboard, in which Griffiths had, for years,
-placed the family heirlooms at night, and beheld my gentlemanly burglar
-stow them, one after another, in a capacious felt sack, which he carried
-in his hand.
-
-"Charming!" he cried. "I am a connoisseur, I assure you, and I know
-silver from plate. These articles are really worth the risk of the
-enterprise."
-
-You ask me if I was not alarmed. No, I was _not_. Personal violence was
-not in his professional line, unless opposed. I summoned all my energies
-to outwit him. I thought much and said little, for I had no intention of
-allowing him to carry off my mother's silver.
-
-After having rifled all the rooms of the most valuable articles, he
-returned to the dining-room.
-
-On the table the remains of supper still stood, consisting of a fowl,
-hardly touched, some delicately cut bread and butter, cake, and a glass
-jar containing some fancy crackers.
-
-"I will make myself entirely at home," he remarked, sitting down to the
-table, and helping himself to a wing of the chicken.
-
-"Really," he proceeded, "I have thoroughly enjoyed this evening. Not
-only have I met a most charming lady, but I have been able to prove to
-her that the terms gentleman and burglar may be synonomous."
-
-He now began on the cake. I pushed the cracker jar toward him. "Try
-them," I observed.
-
-Still smiling indulgently, and talking, he took out one of the crackers
-and began to nibble on it. It was _very dry_.
-
-I rose, and in an absent-minded manner placed on the table the remains
-of a bottle of rare old Burgundy, which had been opened the day before.
-
-"Now, really," he prattled, "I'm a very harmless man five months out
-of six--I never steal unless other means fail, or a tailor's bill comes
-due. I'm a respectable citizen and--a church member in good standing
-when I'm not on one of my professional tours. I took up burglary more
-as a resource than from necessity. Candidly speaking, now, _am_ I a
-ruffian?"
-
-[Illustration: 0302]
-
-"No!" I replied, looking directly at him. "On the contrary, you are a
-very fine-looking man."
-
-A glow of vanity spread over his face. I poured out a glass of the
-Burgundy and pushed it toward him.
-
-"England to Wales!" he cried with gallantry. "I don't generally drink,"
-he added, "but these crackers make me thirsty."
-
-"If I could only find a wife suited to my tastes," he mused, "such a
-woman as _you_ are, by George! I'd give up aesthetic burglary and settle
-down to quiet domestic bliss." He looked questioningly at me. "If"--he
-hesitated--"you could be sure I would abandon my profession--would
-you--do you think you could--condone my past and--marry me?"
-
-"That is a matter for consideration," I replied.
-
-He helped himself to another cracker.
-
-"Your proposal is so startlingly unique," I continued, "to marry one's
-burglar! Really it is quite a joke."
-
-"Isn't it?" he chuckled, evidently enjoying the idea of the oddity. "We
-are kindred spirits!" he exclaimed, convivially, but was interrupted by
-a violent fit of coughing.
-
-Seizing the bottle of Burgundy, he drained the only drop or two left.
-
-"I think, maybe, there's another bottle down in the cellar," I cried,
-artlessly. "I'll go down and see--I feel thirsty myself."
-
-"We will descend together," exclaimed my burglar, gallantly taking the
-candle from my hand and following me to the door leading to the cellar
-steps.
-
-We descended the steps chatting pleasantly--he discoursing on matrimony,
-I answering rather vaguely, but measuring the distance to the wine bins
-by my eye. They were at the far end of the cellar, and were five in
-number, each large enough to hold a quarter of a ton of coal. Before the
-furthest one I paused.
-
-[Illustration: 0300]
-
-"Here," I said, "is the brand we are looking for." I raised the heavy
-lid and looked in. "I will hold the candle," I observed; "will you get
-the bottle? I can hardly reach it."
-
-He handed me the candle and bent low over the bin. Ha! ha! Quicker than
-a flash of lightning I tipped up his heels (he was easily overbalanced),
-and into the bin he fell headlong. Down came the heavy lid. But there
-was no padlock on it. I must hurry! Blowing out the candle, I ran, for I
-knew the way, straight to the cellar steps and up them--like a cat. Then
-with a locked door between myself and my burglar, I could breathe.
-
-I heard the man kicking about down below, for of course he got out of
-the bin at once. But our cellar is a labyrinth. Seizing father's old gun
-from its resting-place in the hall, I sat down near the door at the head
-of the stairs, waiting for the worst.
-
-The door was fairly strong--that I knew; but he was a powerful man. So I
-dragged a heavy table from the sitting-room and placed it against it.
-
-Suddenly I became conscious that he had found his way to the stairs and
-was rapidly approaching the door, which was all that lay between me and
-his revengeful fury.
-
-Bracing myself against the opposite wall, I raised the old gun, and,
-deliberately aiming it, waited.
-
-He began by pounding with both fists on the door, but, not receiving any
-answer, he tried threats. An instinct seemed to tell him I would remain
-on guard.
-
-His language, I must confess, while threatening, was not abusive.
-It was, in fact, incredibly elegant for a burglar, and strictly
-grammatical.
-
-All at once there came a crash, followed by the creaking of heavy
-timber, and the door fell. Down he came on top of it, sprawling at my
-feet on the floor. I raised my gun and fired.
-
-"Hit him?" I interrupted.
-
-"No," replied Miss Gwynne; "here in the wall of the dining-room the
-bullet lodged, and is still there."
-
-The next thing I was conscious of was Mrs. Griffiths bending over me,
-and her husband's voice exclaiming:
-
-"He'd never have escaped if we had not left that door open when we came
-in. You see we got home just in time to hear you fire the gun, and as we
-ran in he ran out. Drat him!"
-
-I raised myself on my elbow and looked eagerly about.
-
-"He had no time to carry off a thing," said Mrs. Griffiths.
-
-* * * * *
-
-"I would like to set my eyes on him," I remarked, when Miss Gwynne
-had concluded her story. "You are a distinguished woman and are--I
-believe--the very first one who ever received an offer of marriage from
-a burglar."
-
-The lady smiled. "Do you not remember reading about the capture of
-a notorious bank robber, several years ago? The case created quite a
-sensation, owing partly to the difficulty in tracing the thief, who was
-clever enough to puzzle the most expert detectives and evade the police,
-and also to the respectability of his position. No one could believe him
-guilty."
-
-"Indeed I do remember it," I answered. "Not only that, but I _saw_ the
-man after he was in prison. I happened to be going through Chester Jail
-at the time and J------ was pointed out to me. He was quite
-distinguished looking. In fact, I did not believe him guilty."
-
-"Nor would I," said Miss Gwynne, "if I had not known."
-
-"You mean," I said, "that he----
-
-"I mean that you saw _my burglar_."
-
-[Illustration: 5305]
-
-[Illustration: 0306]
-
-[Illustration: 0307]
-
-[Illustration: 0308]
-
-
-
-
-THE LADY IN ROUGE, By W. E. P. French
-
-[Illustration: 9308]
-
-"Pretty woman! That's just like a man. Pretty chromo, you mean, Tom."
-
-"Well," in a hearty, pleasant voice, "maybe you are the better judge;
-but I don't believe she's 'made up,' and if I wasn't the most henpecked
-man on earth I'd say she was the loveliest creature I ever saw. As for
-her hair, it's----"
-
-"Blondined! And so utterly impossible in color that it couldn't for
-a moment fool anybody but a man," interrupted the first speaker, with
-deliciously spiteful emphasis on the very common noun man.
-
-"Eyebrows stencilled, eyelashes darkened; lips, ears and finger tips
-tinged with carmine--don't you know? Complexion enamel, vinegar rouge
-and brunette powder--pshaw! The way the men go on about her makes me
-positively ill. If you fall in love with her, Harry, you are no brother
-of mine. I don't care to be sister-in-law to a lithograph in _fast_
-colors."
-
-"You make me curious to see her, Nell, dear. By Jove, she must be either
-a monster or a paragon! Have the spirit of a man, Tom, and tell me
-which."
-
-"Don't try to extract any more information from me, old man; my teeth
-are positively chattering with terror. You can decide for yourself this
-evening, if your ferocious sister will allow you to leave your room. By
-the way," with an amused laugh, "what do you suppose Nell and the rest
-of her charitable sex up here have dubbed the poor girl? 'The lady in
-rouge!'"
-
-"Yes, and she ought to have a sign, 'Paint, don't touch.' I believe
-she is a divorc�e or a widow, and I know she's thirty in spite of her
-sickening affectation of youth."
-
-"Oh, come, Nell, you are absolutely vicious. She is not a day over
-twenty, and she has the prettiest name I ever heard, Violante Solander;
-accent on the second syllable, Harry, not on the first, to rhyme with
-Hollander, as the bride of my bosom insists on pronouncing it."
-
-"Sounds like a combination of Spanish and Scandinavian," the younger man
-answers.
-
-"It is," returns his brother-in-law. "I have met her father several
-times at the Cosmos Club in Washington. He is a Norwegian, a wonderfully
-handsome man, of the purest blonde type, with charming old-time manners
-and a voice as deep and sonorous as a fine bell. Jack Kendricks, who
-knows him quite well, told me something of his history. As a young man
-he traveled pretty much all over the world, and in South America met and
-married Miss Viola's mother. She was an Ecuadorean of Spanish descent,
-and so beautiful that she was called, in reference to her name, which
-was the same as her daughter's, 'The Violet of Quito.' It is really a
-case of the Arctic zone wedding the Equator."
-
-"Or of a walrus committing matrimony with a llama. No wonder she is
-neither fish, flesh nor fowl," added madame, with a malicious emphasis
-that made both men laugh.
-
-This conversation floated up to me as I sat smoking my cigar on the
-forward edge of the hurricane deck of the little steamer that carried
-passengers from the railroad station at the foot of a beautiful and
-well-known lake in the Adirondacks to the village at the head of it,
-whither we were all bound.
-
-The party of three had crossed from the other side of the boat and Were
-leaning against the guards immediately under me. Later on I came to
-know them all well. The lady was a delightful little bundle of
-inconsistencies, sharp of tongue, quick of temper and jealous of all
-that belonged to her, but as generous as an Arab, very warm hearted,
-perfectly fearless and honest and a loyal friend when won. She was born
-Miss Eleanor Van Zandt, a family with a tree and traditions, pride,
-possessions and position; but the fact that she belonged in the top
-layer of the Four Hundred did not prevent her, some ten years before,
-refusing a scion of the English nobility (a very wealthy one, too, if
-you'll believe me), to her mother's Infinite disgust, and giving her
-dimpled little hand, where she had already given her heart, to
-big, kindly, genial Thomas Northrup, who was every inch a man and a
-gentleman, but who was third in direct descent (and gloried in it, too)
-from old John Northrup, saddle and harness maker, of whom I have heard
-it told by one that saw it that he died on his sixtieth birthday in
-the battle of Gettysburg, from some twenty bullet wounds received while
-carrying the colors of his regiment, and that his last words were:
-"Don't let the Johnnies get the flag!"
-
-I feel it to be my painful duty to relate that Madame Nell, when
-remonstrated with by her family upon the plebeian nature of the match
-she was about to make, flew into a violent rage and said she would
-gladly trade a baker's dozen of her eminently high and wellborn
-Knickerbocker ancestors for "that grand old saddler." The Van Zandt
-crest is a lion rampant gardant, and shortly after the wedding an aunt,
-who had declined to be present, received a spirited sketch of the family
-beast, leaning upon a musket in the position of parade rest, carrying a
-flag in his mouth and bearing upon his lordly back a monstrous saddle,
-the motto in the surrounding heraldic belt being, "Don't let the
-Johnnies get the flag!" This cheerful device was accompanied by a very
-deferential and affectionate note from the bride, asking her aunt if she
-did not think it a pretty way of combining the Northrup family (saddle)
-tree with the crest of the Van Zandts, or if she thought the "dear old
-lion" would appear to better advantage under a saddle that would conceal
-him entirely from the gaze of the vulgar herd.
-
-The old lady declined to receive Mrs. Northrup from that time until the
-day of her death, about four years later, but when her will was opened
-it was found that she had left $200,000 to her niece, Eleanor Van Zandt,
-"as a mark of respect for her truth, courage and _artistic ability_,"
-and $10,000 for a monument "to that gallant soldier and true gentleman,
-John Northrup, who died on the field of Gettysburg in the defense of his
-country's flag." Nell designed the monument, and every Decoration Day
-she puts a saddle made of flowers on the old lady's grave. But to my
-tale.
-
-Harry Van Zandt, at the time of which I write, was about twenty-six,
-tall, broad shouldered, athletic, brown as to eyes, hair, skin and
-pointed beard, an engineer and architect by profession, an advanced and
-liberal thinker for so young a man, full of high spirits, though with
-a depth and earnestness of purpose very refreshing in these days when
-selfish indifference is the rule, and altogether a manly, honorable,
-self reliant and energetic young fellow. He had charming manners,
-reverenced all women, rich or poor, proud or humble, and treated old
-people with an affectionate deference that won him many friends.
-
-The steamer had changed her course to the left rather sharply, heading
-for her wharf, when a Long Lake boat, with a woman at the sculls and
-a young man holding the tiller ropes, crossed our bow and floated by
-within fifteen feet of us. I did not need the quick, "There she is!
-Look, Harry!" from Mr. Northrup to know that it was Miss Solander. She
-had turned her head slightly toward them to bow, and the setting sun
-shone squarely in her face, making the wonderful amber hair seem
-a nimbus of golden light against the dark background of her huge
-Gainsborough hat.
-
-A more perfectly, harmoniously, radiantly beautiful girl I have
-never seen. Her coloring was simply marvelous, and I inclined to Mrs.
-Northrup's opinion that it must be artificial. It is impossible to give
-an adequate description of her--the wonderful child-woman. A face of
-rounded and exquisite contours, the skin of that warmest, richest,
-brunette type that is almost dusky; cheeks that had the soft, tender,
-velvety bloom of a sun-kissed peach; a charming mouth, scarlet as a
-flower, ripe, luscious, sensitive, ready to curve with sweet, swift
-laughter or to droop with grief. Her eyes, in the glimpse I had of her,
-I took to be black or a very dark brown, but later I found they were
-of that rare deep blue that becomes violet by an artificial light, and,
-indeed, owing to the length and thickness of the dark lashes, it was not
-easy at any time to determine their exact color, much less shade. Well,
-she was more nearly perfect than any other human thing I ever hope to
-see.
-
-               From her gold-flax curls' most marvelous shine,
-
-                   Down to her lithe and delicate feet,
-
-               There was not a curve nor a waving line
-
-                   But moved in a harmony firm and sweet.
-
-As she passed from view I looked down at the trio below me. Mrs.
-Northrup was regarding her brother curiously, and I don't think either
-she or I was at all surprised when he turned, his face aglow with
-enthusiasm, and said: "What a lovely girl!" Then, with quick change of
-tone, "Who is that man with her?"
-
-"Lovely as a Prang," remarked my lady, dryly. "The man is your hated
-rival, of whom you are already madly jealous. He is young, beautiful
-and rich, dances divinely, speaks _real_ English and has very nearly
-a tablespoonful of brains--not that he needs such a preponderance of
-brain, for he has enough money to make a social success of a
-jibbering idiot. His name is Francis Floyd-Jones, but we speak of him
-affectionately as 'Fluggeon,' and those that know him best sometimes
-lovingly refer to him as 'Balaam's Ass'--but you'll like him, Harry."
-
-Van Zandt's reply I did not hear, as I discreetly moved away; but
-I heard both men laugh, and I joined them heartily when at a safe
-distance.
-
-When we landed I found we were all bound for the same hotel, a capital
-one, named for and kept by one of a famous hotel-keeping family. The
-Northrups' little girl, a madcap child of six, was on the lawn waiting
-the return of her parents and the arrival of her uncle, of whom she was
-evidently very fond, although she abandoned him speedily in order to hug
-and kiss his superb Irish setter, Blarney, who licked the small imp's
-face calmly and appeared in his grave dog's way genuinely glad to see
-her.
-
-Ethel, as I found out in a day or two, had taken one of those intense
-fancies that children do occasionally to almost entire strangers to "the
-lady in rouge," and would escape to her whenever chance permitted. Poor
-Mrs. Northrup! Her ranks were deserters to the enemy. Her husband openly
-admired the gorgeously-tinted girl, her child simply worshipped her, her
-brother had palpably fallen in love at first sight, and, when we came
-out from dinner, it was found that Blarney had dumbly sworn allegiance
-to the violet of two zones and could with difficulty be induced to leave
-her. The dog's infatuation was put to-practical service by his master
-during the next few weeks, for that astute young gentleman, when unable
-to discover the whereabouts of his idol by peering and prowling, would
-take one of Blarney's silky ears in his hand and whisper, "Go, find
-her, boy," which the clever animal promptly proceeded to do, usually
-successfully, though often the search would receive a check on the edge
-of the lake and be resumed after a run of a mile on the island.
-
-Madame Nell and I soon discovered that we had a host of common friends
-in New York and Washington, and that an uncle on her mother's side (poor
-Dick Whitney, who was lost on the _Ville de Havre_) had been a classmate
-of mine at Harvard forty odd years before. These kindly young people
-were as good and affectionate to me as though I had been a relative, and
-the heart of a lonely old man went out to them gratefully and lovingly.
-
-By the way, I am tempted to repeat a compliment that I overheard toward
-the end of the summer, because it was the pleasantest and heartiest I
-ever had paid to me, or rather about me. Charge it to the garrulity of
-age or simple conceit, but here it is:
-
-I came up behind them one dark night on the piazza, just as Mrs.
-Northrop turned to her husband and said: "Do you know, Tom, dear, I
-think Dr. Zobel is the very nicest old man I ever knew; he has the head
-of a sage and the fresh, pure heart of a little child."
-
-[Illustration: 0316]
-
-There was a hop that first evening in the large drawing room of the
-hotel, and a little while before the music began I wandered in to find
-three or four small groups talking and laughing, among them Van Zandt
-and his sister. She made room for me on the sofa, and said I should be
-her attendant cavalier, as she did not intend to dance. We chatted a
-bit and then madame began a running commentary on the people as they
-entered.
-
-"The Robinsons--papa, mamma and daughter. Papa looketh upon the wine
-when it is red. Mamma is a devout Catholic. Daughter openly defies both
-parents and, I am convinced, hath a devil. I have ventured to rename
-them 'Rum, Romanism and Rebellion.'"
-
-"What De Quincy would call 'an overt act of alliteration,' Nell," said
-Van Zandt, and added: "Who is the imposing-looking old girl leading the
-small, meek man?"
-
-"Where? Oh! of course. The lion and the lamb. Mrs. Colter is literary,
-writes things, reads Browning understanding (happy woman!), quotes Greek
-to people that never harmed her, and herds the lamb, who never has
-any capers in his sauce, and who is, I am told, her third matrimonial
-venture."
-
-"A fulfillness of prophecy," murmured Harry, "'And the lion and the lamb
-shall lie down together.'"
-
-"Harry, you are incorrigible. The young man of peculiarly unwholesome
-appearance who has just sneaked in is, I am morally certain, Uriah Heep,
-though he says his name is Penrose. That [as a handsome old lady of
-large proportions came into the room] is Miss Eldridge. She is very
-nice, but is omnipresent, so we call her 'The Almighty,' Her escort
-is Mr. Hinton; he is the biggest, jolliest and--except my Tom--the
-bestnatured man here. Everyone calls him 'Jumbo' or 'Billy' Look out for
-him, Buz; he is another rival and determined to have the chromo at any
-price. There she is with 'Buttons' in tow, and the disconsolate 'Wafer'
-vainly endeavoring to console himself with his divinity's aunt."
-
-The young gentlemen were aptly named. The first, a handsome young West
-Pointer on furlough, in all the glory of cadet gray and a multitude of
-bell buttons; the other, a pleasant-faced fellow, surprisingly tall and
-thin. Nell had introduced Van Zandt and me to Miss Solander and her
-aunt shortly after dinner, and I had had a very pleasant chat with
-the stately, whitehaired old lady, who was so proud and fond of her
-exquisite niece. She was Mr. Solander's sister and the widow of Captain
-Dupont of the French Navy.
-
-Several friends of Mrs. Northrup joined her, and Van Zandt excused
-himself and went to make one of the little group of men around Miss
-Solander, followed by a parting injunction from his sister to remember
-that benzine would remove paint spots if applied while they were fresh.
-
-Beautiful as this flower-faced girl was at all times, by lamp light and
-in evening dress she was lovely beyond all power of words to express,
-and as I came to know her I found that her beauty was not alone in her
-superb coloring, in the perfect lines of her face and figure or in her
-exuberant health, but was in her life; for she was--and is--that rare,
-sweet thing, a womanly woman, brave, strong, gentle, generous, pure of
-heart and clean of thought, a lover of truth, a hater of meanness, with
-a mind broadened by travel and burnished by attrition; and she carried,
-moreover, a cloak of charity of such wide and ample fold that it fell
-lovingly over even the follies and frailties of those weaker ones of her
-own sex and was proof against the arrows of envy.
-
-With old people and children she was a great favorite; the men were her
-enthusiastic admirers, and a good half dozen of them were helplessly,
-hopelessly, over head and ears in love with her; but a number of the
-young married women and girls professed strong disapproval of her,
-on similar grounds to those outlined by Mrs. Northrup on the steamer,
-though I had my private suspicions that, in some cases at least, they
-were a trifle jealous of the attention she received from the men, who,
-as is generally the case at summer resorts, were not overabundant. Mrs.
-Northrup's dislike was an honest one, for she firmly believed the girl
-was artificial, and having carefully avoided an intimacy knew but little
-of the lovely nature and bright mind that no one was better fitted to
-appreciated than she.
-
-Besides, Madame Nell was a born matchmaker and wanted her adored
-brother to marry her particular friend and crony, Miss Carrie Belmont,
-a brighteyed, keen-witted, merry little soul, who took nothing seriously
-except medicine and had about as much fixedness of purpose as a
-month-old kitten. To a man like Van Zandt, who needed both the curb and
-spur of a mentality as strong and earnest as his own, she would have
-been about as valuable a helpmeet as was poor little Dora to David
-Copperfield. But Nell was fond of the pretty, clever little creature,
-felt sure (as our mothers and sisters, God bless 'em! always do) that
-her brother was thoroughly incapable of picking out the right kind of
-a wife, and weeks before he came had perceived in Miss Solander's
-marvelous loveliness a dangerous and powerful factor in the personal
-equations she wished to make equal to each other, so that by the
-transposition of matrimony they should become one.
-
-Of course this knowledge came to me gradually; but even that first
-evening, as Van Zandt and Miss Solander passed near us in the waltz, I
-could see that he was wonderfully taken with his fair partner. For the
-next few days he was more or less the victim of some little sisterly
-traps that were set with great tact and amused Northrup and me
-immensely. Then my young gentleman escaped and made great running,
-distancing "Buttons," "The Wafer," "Balaam's Ass," and the rest of what
-Nell called the "fry," and crowding Hinton closely for what each felt
-was his life's race for a prize that might be for neither of them. They
-were a nice, manly, generous pair of rivals, and I never saw either take
-an unfair advantage of the other. I remember one day I was fishing,
-when they both rushed down to their boats and started for the island
-at racing stroke. Just as they were abreast of me Van Zandt, who was
-leading, broke a rowlock, and Hinton forged ahead; but the moment he saw
-what had occurred he backed water, tossed Harry an extra rowlock, waited
-until he had put it in, and then away they went again.
-
-Which was the favored one it was for some time difficult to decide, as
-the girl was evidently used to a great deal of attention, and accepted
-it gracefully and even gratefully; but yet somehow as though it was a
-matter of course. She took many things as matters of course, by the way,
-among others her beauty, of which she was as little vain as a flower
-is of its color or perfume, and she labored under the pleasant delusion
-that men liked her simply because she could dance and ride and row and
-shoot and play tennis. There was another thing she played beside tennis,
-and that was the banjo, and it seemed to me that her rich, flexible
-contralto, the liquid tingle of the banjo and the Spanish words of the
-song she loved best to sing, made a harmony as soft and sweet as the
-fragrant, moonlit nights of her Southern home.
-
-Until I read the generous and intelligent praise of the banjo by the
-gifted pen of America's greatest writer of romance, I had been rather
-diffident of expressing my liking for this charming instrument, partly
-because it was rather impressed upon me by my parents, who were a little
-tinged with Puritanism, that it was low, and partly because a musical
-friend, whose opinion in matters harmonic I always deferred to, disliked
-it; but, under the rose, I thought it delicious, and many years ago I
-used to wander pretty often to a beer garden in New York, where an old
-darky named Horace touched the strings with a master's hand and drew
-from them the half sad, half merry, but wholly sweet melodies of his
-child-hearted race, which always struck some responsive chord in me that
-no other music ever did.
-
-There was a good deal of musical talent in the three hotels that
-summer. Miss Solander, Miss Belmont, Hinton and Van Zandt were a capital
-quartet; Mrs. Robinson was an accomplished pianist and accompanist;
-a young girl from Troy sang Irish songs to a zither delightfully;
-"Buttons" gave us the lays of West Point, and "Balaam's Ass," as Mrs.
-Northrup expressed it, "really brayed very melodiously."
-
-Van Zandt had one decided advantage over the other men in his wooing,
-for he had brought his own saddle horse with him, and as Miss Solander
-had hers, a beautiful and very fast bay mare, and was an enthusiastic
-horsewoman, riding nearly every day, wet or dry, he frequently managed
-to be her escort.
-
-They asked me to go with them one morning for a long ride through the
-mountains, and as it was not impossible that we might see a deer or some
-birds Miss Viola took her repeating shotgun, a pretty and close-shooting
-little weapon with which she was very expert, and Van Zandt and I our
-Stevens rifles.
-
-My mount was the best to be had in the village, and was a strong, slow
-animal, intended by nature to grace a plow.
-
-It was a grand day, crisp and clear, and the first level stretch of road
-we came to my young companions decided to have a race. Away they went,
-Blarney and I at an increasing interval behind them. At a turn in the
-road, about a quarter of a mile ahead, Harry's big gray was leading
-the mare by a good length, and when they rejoined me Miss Solander
-acknowledged her defeat handsomely, but put in a saving clause for her
-pet by adding, "She runs her best when frightened. I don't think even
-your splendid gray could catch her if we saw a bear."
-
-Harry laughed pleasantly, said he imagined his horse, too, might develop
-unexpected speed under such circumstances, and we cantered on. A little
-before noon we left the main road and struck into a bridle path that
-led through a dense pine forest, utterly impassable by reason of fallen
-trees and underbush, except on the narrow trail. We had not gone
-far when our way seemed barred by a huge dead pine that had fallen
-slantingly across the path and rested on a great boulder on the other
-side. It was too high to jump near the roots without great danger and
-the triangular opening by the rock did not look high enough for a horse
-to go through. However, we dismounted and managed to get the animals
-through, though there was very little room to spare.
-
-In about half a mile we came to the edge of the wood, and the trail
-widened out to ten or twelve feet, bordered by a dense second growth
-of ash. Perhaps a thousand yards farther on Blarney became excited over
-some fresh tracks in the sandy soil, which we found were those of a deer
-that had passed only a few minutes before, as was shown by a clump of
-fern that was slowly straightening its crushed and bent fronds by the
-side of the narrow road. Miss Solander and I halted, while Harry
-rode quietly on ahead after Blarney, who was acting rather queerly, I
-thought, following the deer track for a few feet, then pausing, with
-nose in the air and bristling back, to snuff the air and growl. Van
-Zandt spoke to him, and the dog went steadily and slowly forward. He was
-a clever beast and the only setter I ever saw that could hunt all
-kinds of game well. Miss Solander promptly emptied the magazine of her
-shotgun, and refilled it with wire cartridges loaded with "buck and
-ball."
-
-I was watching Van Zandt, who was a few hundred feet away, when there
-was a crashing noise in the brush, and midway between him and us a
-good-sized black bear stepped out on the trail. My horse made a buck
-jump that nearly unseated me and backed half his length into the bush.
-Bang! Bang! went Miss Viola's gun. The bear stumbled, gave a roar of
-pain and rage, and started for us. The mare plunged wildly, wheeled
-about sharply and flew back by the way we came. The brute I rode was
-paralyzed with terror and I could not budge him, nor did I dare to shoot
-for fear of hitting Van Zandt, and my position of course kept his rifle
-silent. But he took in the situation at a glance, fired in the air, gave
-a yell that a panther might have envied, and came toward us at a gallop.
-
-[Illustration: 0326]
-
-The bear turned to look at this new enemy, and rose promptly on his
-hind legs to receive him. I saw the gray swerve slightly, heard a savage
-"Jump, ------ you!" from Van Zandt, saw his spurs go home, and then the
-great horse rise to the leap and skim over the bear in a splendid arch.
-Blarney, who was just behind his master, was not so fortunate. He lit
-fairly on the bear, and was sadly scratched and bitten before he got
-away. Van Zandt shouted, "I must catch her before she gets to the fallen
-tree!" and went by me like a whirlwind. It was not much over a mile, she
-had a hundred yards and more the start of him, and the mare was going
-like the wind. I fired a shot as soon as the gray passed me, and the
-report seemed to rouse my horse, who, oblivious to spur and voice, had
-cowered shivering in the brush, for he shook himself, snorted, took
-a last look at the bear, which was preparing to join the procession,
-turned tail and fled, developing speed of which I would not have
-believed him capable.
-
-It was a horrible ride, not on account of the bear, which might have
-been a mouse for all the thought I gave it, but because there, ahead of
-me, in that narrow road, a beautiful girl, just blossoming into splendid
-womanhood, was rushing to an awful, ghastly death, and a few cruel yards
-behind her the man that loved her and would so gladly have given his
-life for hers. Oh, how my heart ached for him, and how I wished the old
-man that was third in that terrible race might die instead of that sweet
-child-woman! Could he overtake her? He was spurring fiercely and the
-gray was doing his best; but though the gap between them was closing,
-it was closing slowly--and we had entered the wood. Yes, he was surely
-gaining now, sixty feet more and he would have her. But there was the
-tree, and he couldn't reach her in time. I covered my eyes with my hands
-and turned sick and faint. Then came back to me in a man's voice grown
-shrill with agony, one word, and following it crash! crash! in rapid
-succession, and again the sound of the hurrying hoof beats.
-
-I opened my eyes. Was I blinded by my tears? There were no dreadful
-bundles under the tree. Then that word, with its fierce, imperious note
-of command, which had conveyed no meaning to me in that first awful
-moment, came through the porch of the outer ear, where it had lingered,
-into the brain, and I understood--"Jump!" He had taken the one chance
-left to them at the last moment, shrieked his order at her, and she
-had obeyed, lifting her mare to a leap that looked impossible. He had
-followed her, and they had cleared it safely, for I could see their
-heads over the fallen trunk. I checked my horse, dismounted, led him
-through the opening and galloped on again.
-
-In a few moments I had the pleasure of seeing the gray range up
-alongside of the mare and Van Zandt seize her bridle. I joined them and
-found they were sound in life and limb. Harry was standing by the mare's
-head, quieting her, and somehow he had gotten possession of a little
-gauntleted hand and was looking at the girl with a world of love in his
-fine eyes. She was quite pale, but her face was steadfast and strong,
-and in it as she met Van Zandt's look frankly was the dawning of
-something that she was unaware of yet, something that, if she lived
-would crown her lover's life with happiness "sweet beyond compare"--and
-my old heart was glad for them both.
-
-Neither Blarney nor the bear was in sight, and as I had hung on to my
-rifle half unconsciously I proposed going back to look for the dog, but
-they insisted on accompanying me, and Miss Solander showed her own gun
-in its carbine holster with the flap buttoned. I tell you it took nerve
-for a girl on a runaway horse to do that bit of work. Well, we went
-cautiously back, Van Zandt holding a strap fastened to the mare's
-bridle, and I on ahead. Nothing in sight until we got out of the wood
-and had made a slight turn. Then we saw Blarney, very ragged and bloody,
-but with an air of proud ownership, sniffing around the dead body of
-the bear. We had some trouble in bringing up the horses, but managed it
-finally.
-
-Everyone seemed to feel after that that Van Zandt would win and wear
-the violet. Even Mrs. Northrup was preparing to bow gracefully to
-the inevitable, when Ethel came on the scene in the r�le of "enfante
-terrible" and spoke her little piece.
-
-It was a lovely summer afternoon. The next day, Monday, was Miss Viola's
-twenty-first birthday; her father was to arrive by the evening boat,
-and several of the young men had planned rowing and sailing races in her
-honor. Mr. and Mrs. Northrup, Miss Belmont, Hinton and I were chatting
-in a little summer house just by the edge of the lake, and a few feet
-away, Viola, Harry and Ethel were skipping flat stones over the water.
-In a pause in our talk, which had been of Byron, just after someone had
-quoted:
-
-                   She was his life,
-
-                   The ocean to the river of his thoughts,
-
-                   Which terminated all,
-
-We were all looking at the trio outside and speculating probably upon
-the future of two of them, when we saw Ethel seize Miss Solander's hand,
-look up at her adoringly, and heard her say, in her childish pipes:
-"You're so pretty! Why does mamma called you 'the colored lady?' You're
-not a nigger, are you?"
-
-The girl flushed painfully, but stooped, kissed the child and, looking
-straight at Mrs. Northrup, said very gently: "No, dear; and if mamma
-knew me better she would not think I was colored." Then she turned,
-bowed slightly and walked rapidly up the beach. Nell burst into tears,
-Van Zandt muttered something that didn't sound like a prayer and tore
-after his lady love. Northrup was so startled and angry that, instead of
-comforting his wife, he gave her a little shake and exploded with: "It's
-too ----- ---------- bad! A nice mess you and the brat have made of
-things!" Then, as the ludicrous side of the affair appealed to his
-fun-loving nature: "To save time, I'll spank Ethel while you roll out the
-crust of a nice, re: "To save time, I'll spank Ethel while you roll out
-the crust of a nice, big humble pie."
-
-Hinton and Miss Belmont slunk off, and I was preparing to follow them,
-when the unhappy little woman sobbed out, "Oh, Doctor, please, please
-don't go! Stay and tell me what to do. Tom's so nasty--if you laugh, Tom
-dear, I'll kill you." So I stayed, and while we were consulting what was
-best to do Van Zandt came quietly into the summer house, his face and
-tightly-closed lips ashen, and his eyes the eyes of a strong man
-in pain. Nell rushed at him, exclaiming: "My poor Harry, my darling
-brother! I am so sorry; try to forgive me!"
-
-He put her away from him with no show of anger, but very coldly, and
-then, very evenly and in an emotionless, mechanical sort of way, he
-said: "I have asked Miss Solander to be my wife. She refused me. I hope
-you are satisfied. I give you my word of honor that I will never forgive
-you, nor speak to you, until she accepts your apology and my love--and
-that will be never," he added, heavily, and half under his breath. There
-was no doubt that he meant it and would stick to it, and his sister,
-who knew he never broke his word, after one appealing look at him, threw
-herself in her husband's arms and sobbed miserably. I followed the boy
-and took an old man's privilege. He listened patiently and thanked me
-affectionately, but it was of no use. Then I tried to find Miss Viola,
-and came across Nell on the same quest; but no one saw her until the
-next afternoon.
-
-Monday was cloudy and windy, a real gray day. The races were to begin
-at 3 o'clock, and the entire community was gathered on the shore of the
-lake. Both Miss Solander and Van Zandt were entered, and I knew their
-pride would make them show up. The first race was for ladies in Long
-Lake boats over a half mile course and return, six entries, a handicap
-of one hundred yards on Miss Solander and fifty on Mrs. Claggett. Viola
-beat it handsomely and then rowed directly across to the island, where
-she would have a good view of the sailing race, though I think her
-object was more to escape the crowd.
-
-[Illustration: 0332]
-
-After an interval of a few minutes three canoes, manned by Hinton, Van
-Zandt and another man, came up to the starter's boat.
-
-The canoes got away together, Van Zandt to leeward. They had gone
-perhaps a quarter of a mile when a squall from the opposite shore struck
-them, and the canoe with the violet pennant (Harry's) went over like a
-flash, the other two, with loose sheets, running before the wind. Mrs.
-Northrup screamed, and so did several other women; but Van Zandt was a
-capital swimmer, and I expected every moment to see him on the bottom of
-the canoe.
-
-Half a dozen men started in rowboats, but one shot out from the island
-and fairly flew for the capsized craft. It was Viola, and we saw her,
-when she reached her goal, stand up, shake off her outer skirts and
-dive. I had a powerful glass, and when she came up I saw she had him and
-was trying to reach her boat, which was drifting away. She gave that
-up and struggled toward the canoe. They went down, and then the rescue
-boats hid them. It seemed an eternity before two boats pulled swiftly
-toward us. In the first was Van Zandt, a nasty cut on his head and
-unconscious, but breathing faintly. In the next, held in the arms of
-poor "Buttons," whose tears were dropping on her lovely white face, was
-the sweet child-woman, all the wonderful rose tints gone from lip and
-cheek and in its place the sad, cold hue of death. There was no sign of
-vitality, and I was hopeless from the first; but we were still working
-over her when the steamer came in, and the next thing we knew there was
-a heart-broken cry and her father had her in his arms.
-
-Was it the bitter agony and yearning love in that strong man's cry that
-called back the fleeing life, or was it the sudden jar of lifting her
-and the fierce clasp of her father's arms that started the stilled
-lungs? I do not know; but, physician though I am, I incline to the
-former solution. Whatever may have been the cause there was a faint
-flutter in pulse and breast, and we renewed our efforts. In half an
-hour she was breathing softly and the color was coming back to her
-bonny face. Her father carried her up to the hotel and her aunt and Mrs.
-Northrup got her to bed. She recovered rapidly, but Van Zandt was pretty
-ill for about a week, and positively refused to see his sister.
-
-Well, I suppose it was officious and meddlesome in me, but one day when
-I knew where Violante was I took Nell's hand in my arm and brought them
-together. In a few minutes they were crying over each other in real
-womanly fashion, and I prowled off. In about ten minutes little Nell,
-her eyes shining with happiness, hunted me up and said, "I want you to
-take me to Harry." She showed me in her hand a beautiful and curious
-ring, which I knew was the engagement ring of Miss Viola's mother.
-Harry was sitting in an easy chair, with his back to the door, when we
-entered, and, without turning his head, he asked, "Is that you, Doctor?"
-
-I answered him, and then Nell stole up behind him, dropped the great
-ruby in his lap, and whispered, with a sob in her voice, "With my
-dear sister Violante's love." Harry looked at the ring stupidly for an
-instant, then Nell came around in front of him, and he pulled her down
-into his arms without a word. And I stole away with wet eyes and a
-glad heart, and told the news to Tom and Carrie and that prince of good
-fellows, "Jumbo" Hinton.
-
-That is about all. Mr. Solander gave his consent and something more
-substantial, and two months later I went to the wedding of "The Lady in
-Rouge."
-
-[Illustration: 0335]
-
-[Illustration: 0336]
-
-
-
-
-THE BREAKING OF WINTER, By Patience Stapleton
-
-
-|That's the fust funerel I've went to sence I was a gal, but that I
-drove to the graveyard."
-
-"I dunno as that done the corp enny good."
-
-"An' seems all to onc't I miss old Tige," muttered the first speaker
-half to herself.
-
-It was snowing now, a fine mist sifting down on deep-drifted stone-walls
-and hard, shining roads, and the tinkle of sleigh-bells, as a far-away
-black line wound over the hill to the bleak graveyard, sounded musical
-and sweet in the muffled air. Two black figures in the dazzling white
-landscape left the traveled road and ploughed heavily along a lane
-leading to a grove of maples, cold and naked in the winter scene.
-
-"They say Ann Kirk left a good prop'ty," said the first speaker, a woman
-of fifty, with sharp black eyes, red cheeks, few wrinkles and fewer gray
-hairs in the black waves under her pumpkin hood. She pulled her worn
-fur cape around her neck and took a new grasp on her shawl, pinning it
-tight. "Ann an' me used to take a sight of comfort driving old Tige."
-
-The man, her companion, grunted and went sturdily ahead. He was
-enveloped in a big overcoat, a scarf wound around his neck and a
-moth-eaten fur cap pulled down over his ears. His blue eyes were watery
-from the cold, his nose and chin peaked and purple, and frost clung to
-the short gray beard about his mouth.
-
-"Who'll git the prop'ty?" panted the woman. She held her gown up in
-front, disclosing a pair of blue socks drawn over her shoes.
-
-"Relashuns, I s'pose."
-
-"She was alius so savin', keepin' drip-pins for fryin', and sfellin'
-nearly every mite of butter they made; an' I've heered the Boston
-relashuns was extravagant. Her sister hed on a black silk to the funerel
-to ride to the grave in; I guess they are well-to-do."
-
-"Dunno," gruffly.
-
-Somehow then the woman remembered that glossy silk, and that she had
-never had one. Then this sister's husband, how attentive he was leading
-his wife out to the sleigh, and she had seen them walking arm-in-arm
-the past summer, when no man in Corinth ever offered his arm to his wife
-unless it were to a funeral and they were first mourners. "Silas never
-give me his arm but the fust Sunday we were merried," she thought;
-"bein' kind to wimmen wan't never the Loweirs way." A sharp pain in her
-side made her catch her breath and stop a moment, but the man paid no
-heed to her distress. At the end of a meadow on a little rise looking
-down a long, shady lane, stood a gray old farm-house, to which age had
-given picturesqueness and beauty, and here Maria Lowell had lived the
-thirty years of her married life. She unlocked the door and went into
-the cold kitchen where the fire had died down. A lean cat came purring
-from under the table, and the old clock seemed to tick more cheerily now
-the mistress had returned.
-
-"A buryin' on Christmas Eve, the minister said, and how sad it were,
-and I felt like tellin' him Ann an' me never knowed Christmas from enny
-other day, even to vittles, for turkeys fetched better prices then, an'
-we sold ourn." She went into a frozen bedroom, for Corinth folks would
-have thought a man crazy to have a fire in a sleeping-room except in
-sickness; she folded her shawl and cape and laid them carefully on the
-feather bed, covered with its gay quilt, the fruit of her lonely hours.
-Mechanically she set about getting supper, stirring the fire, putting a
-pan of soda biscuits in to bake, and setting a dish of dried-apple sauce
-and a plate of ginger cookies on the table. "Berried on Chrismus Eve,
-but little she ever thought of it, nor me, and little of it Jimmy hed
-here to home."
-
-She looked at her biscuits, slammed the oven door, glanced cautiously
-around to see if Silas, who had gone to milk the cow, were coming; then
-drawing her thin lips tighter, went back into the cold bedroom. With
-ruthless hand tearing open an old wound, she unlocked a drawer in
-the old mahogany bureau and took out something rolled in a
-handkerchief--only a tiny vase, blue and gilt, woefully cheap, laughed
-at by the cultured, scorned by the children of today. She held it
-tenderly in her cold hand and brought back the memory that would never
-die. It was years and years ago in that very room, and a little child
-came in holding one chubby hand behind him, and he looked at her
-with her own bright eyes under his curly hair. "Muver, Jimmy's got a
-s'prise." She remembered she told him crossly to go out of the cold room
-and not bother her. She remembered, too, that his lip quivered, the lip
-that had yet the baby curve. "It was a present, muver, like the minister
-sed. I got candy on the tree, but you didn't git nawthin', and I buyed
-you this with my berry money." The poor little vase in that warm chubby
-hand--ay, she forgot nothing now; she told him he was silly to spend
-good money on trash, and flung the vase aside, but that grieved childish
-face came back always. Ah, it would never fade away, it had returned
-for a quarter of a century. "I never was used to young ones," she
-said aloud, "nor kindness," but that would not heal the wound; no
-self-apology could. She went hurriedly to the kitchen, for Silas was
-stamping the snow off his feet in the entry.
-
-"I got fifty dollars for old Tige," he said, as he poured his tea into
-his saucer to cool; "he was wuth it, the honest old creetur!"
-
-The little black-eyed woman did not answer; she only tightened her lips.
-Over the mantel where the open fireplace had been bricked up, was a
-picture in a narrow black frame, a colored print of Washington on a fine
-white horse, and maidens strewing flowers in his pathway.
-
-"When Tige was feelin' good," continued Silas, "he'd a monstrous likeness
-to thet hoss in the pictur, monstrous! held his hed high an' pranced;
-done you good to see him in Bath when them hosses tried to parss him;
-you'd a thort he was a four-year-old! chock full of pride. The hackman
-sed he was a good 'un, but run down; I don't 'low to overfeed stock when
-they ain't wurkin'."
-
-"Ourn has the name of bein' half starved," muttered the woman.
-
-Silas looked at her in some surprise. "I ginerelly gits good prices for
-'em all the same."
-
-"We ginerelly overreach every one!"
-
-"Goin' to Ann's funerel hez sorter upset ye, M'ri. Lord, how old Tige
-would cavort when Jim would ride him; throw out his heels like a colt.
-I never told the hackman Tige was eighteen year old. I ain't over
-pertikler in a hoss trade, like everybody else. He wun't last long I
-calc'late now, for them hack horses is used hard, standin' out late
-nights in the cold an'----"
-
-"Was the Wilkins place sold out ter-day?" said the woman hastily, with
-agonizing impatience to divert his thoughts to something else.
-
-"Yes, it were," chuckled Silas, handing his cup for more tea, "an'
-they'll have ter move ter Bosting. You was ginning me for bein' mean,
-how'd you like to be turned outer doors? Ef I do say it, there ain't no
-money due on my prop'ty, nor never was."
-
-"Who air you savin' it fur?" said Maria, quietly. She sat with downcast
-eyes tapping her spoon idly on her saucer; she had eaten nothing.
-
-"Fur myself," he growled, pushing his chair back. He lit a pipe and
-began to smoke, his feet at the oven door.
-
-Outside it was quite dark, snow and night falling together in a dense
-black pall. Over the lonely roads drifted the snow, and no footfall
-marred it. Through drear, silent forests it sifted, sifted down, clung
-to cheery evergreens, and clasped shining summer trees that had no
-thought for winter woes; it was heaped high over the glazed brooks that
-sang, deep down, songs of summer time and gladness, like happy, good old
-folks whose hearts are ever young and joyous. Over the wide Kennebec, in
-the line of blue the ferry-boat kept open, the flakes dropped, dropped
-and made no blurr, like the cellar builders of temples and palaces,
-the rank and file, the millions of good, unknown dead, unmentioned in
-history or the Bible. The waves seething in the confined path crackled
-the false ice around the edges, leaped upon it in miniature breakers,
-and swirled far underneath with hoarse murmur. In the dark water
-something dark rose and fell with the tide. Was there a human being
-drifting to death in the icy sea? The speck made no outcry; it battled
-nobly with nature's mighty force. Surely and slowly the high wharfs and
-the lights of Bath faded; nearer grew the woods of Corinth, the ferry
-landing and the tavern-keeper's lamp.
-
-"I heered suthin' on the ferry slip," said a little old man in the
-tavern, holding his hand behind his ear.
-
-"Nawthin', night's too black," said the tavern-keeper; "you're alius a
-hearin' what no one else do, Beaman."
-
-No star nor human eye had seen the black speck on the wild water, and no
-hand lent it aid to land.
-
-In ugly silence Silas smoked his pipe, while equally still, Maria washed
-the dishes. She stepped to throw the dish-water outside the door and
-then she heard a sound. The night was so quiet a noise traveled miles.
-What was it, that steady smothered thud up the lane where so seldom a
-stranger came? Was it only the beating of her heart after all? She shut
-the door behind her and hurried out, wrapping her wet cold hands in her
-apron. Suddenly there came a long, joyful neigh!
-
-"How on airth did that critter git home?" cried Silas, jumping to his
-feet.
-
-Nearer, nearer, in a grand gallop, with tense muscles and quivering
-limbs, with upraised head and flying mane, with eager eyes, nearer, in
-great leaps thrusting time and distance far behind, came that apparition
-of the night.
-
-"Oh, my God!" cried the woman wildly, "old Tige has come home--come home
-to this place, and there is one living thing that loves it!"
-
-The light flared out from the open door. "How on airth did he git across
-the river?" said Silas, querulously. "An' how am I goin' to git him back
-in this weather?"
-
-There he stood, the noble old horse that her boy had raised from a colt,
-had ridden, had given to her when he went away. "Mother," her boy had
-said, "be good to old Tige. If ever father wants to sell him, don't you
-let him. I'd come back from my grave if the old horse was abused--the
-only thing I loved, that loved me in this place I cannot call a home.
-Remember he has been so faithful."
-
-Ay, he had been faithful, in long, hot summer days, in wide, weary
-fields, in breaking the stony soil for others' harvest, in bringing wood
-from the far forest, in every way of burden and work.
-
-He stood quivering with cold, covered with ice, panting after his wild
-gallop; but he was home, poor brute mind! That old farm was his home: he
-had frolicked in its green fields as a colt, had carried a merryvoiced
-young master, had worked and rested in that old place; he might be
-ill-treated and starved, he did not grieve, he did not question, for it
-was home! He could not understand why this time the old master had not
-taken him away; never before had he been left in Bath. In his brute way
-he reasoned he had been forgotten, and when his chance came, leaped from
-the barn, running as horse never ran before, plunged off the wharf into
-the black waves, swam across and galloped to his home.
-
-"If there is a God in Heaven, that horse shall not go back!" cried the
-woman fiercely; "if you take him from here again it shall be over my
-dead body! Ay, you may well look feared; for thirty years I have frozen
-my heart, even to my own son, and now the end's come. It needed that
-faithful brute to teach me; it needed that one poor creature that loved
-me and this place, to open the flood-gates. Let me pass, and I warn you
-to keep away from me. Women go mad in this lonely, starved life. Ay, you
-are a man, but I am stronger now than you ever were. I've been taught
-all my life to mind men, to be driven by them, and to-night is a rising
-of the weak. Put me in the asylum, as other wives are, but tonight my
-boy's horse shall be treated as never before."
-
-"But M'ri," he said, trembling, "there, there now, let me git the
-lantern, you're white as a sheet! We'll keep him if you say so; why
-hadn't you told me afore?"
-
-She flung him aside, lit the lantern and then ran up to an attic chamber
-under the eaves. "M'ri, you hain't goin' to kill yourself?" he quavered,
-waiting at the foot of the stairs. She was back in a moment, her arms
-full of blankets.
-
-"What on airth!"
-
-"Let me alone, Silas Lowell, these were my weddin' blankets. I've saved
-'em thirty years in the cedar chist for this. They was too good for you
-and me; they air too poor fur my boy's horse."
-
-"But there's a good hoss blanket in the barn."
-
-"The law don't give you these; it mebbe gives you me, but these is
-mine."
-
-She flung by him, and he heard the barn door rattle back. He put on his
-coat and went miserably after her, "M'ri, here's yer shawl, you'll git
-yer death." The barn lit by the lantern revealed two astonished oxen,
-a mild-eyed cow, a line of hens roosting on an old hayrack and Maria
-rubbing the frozen sides of the white horse. "Put yer shawl on, M'ri,
-you'll git yer death."
-
-"An' you'd lose my work, eh? Leave me, I say, I'm burning up; I never
-will be cold till I'm dead. I can die! there is death 'lowed us poor
-critters, an' coffins to pay fur, and grave lots."
-
-Silas picked up a piece of flannel and began to rub the horse. In
-ghastly quiet the two worked, the man patching the woman, and looking
-timorously at the axe in the corner. One woman in the neighborhood,
-living on a cross-road where no one ever came, had gone mad and
-jnur-dered her husband, but "M'ri" had always been so clear-headed! Then
-the woman went and began piling hay in the empty stall.
-
-"You ain't goin' to use thet good hay fur beddin,' be ye, M'ri?" asked
-Silas in pathetic anxiety.
-
-"I tell you let me be. Who has a better right to this? His labor cut it
-and hauled it; this is a time when the laborer shall git his hire."
-
-Silas went on rubbing, listening in painful silence to the click of the
-lock on the grain bin, and the swish of oats being poured into a trough.
-
-"Don't give him too much, M'ri," he pleaded humbly, "I don't mean ter be
-savin', but he'll eat hisself to death."
-
-"The first that ever did on this place," laughed the woman wildly.
-
-Then standing on the milking-stool she piled the blankets on the
-grateful horse, then led him to the stall where she stood and watched
-him eat. "I never see you so free 'round a hoss afore," said Silas; "you
-used to be skeered of 'em, he might kick ye."
-
-"He wouldn't because he ain't a man," she answered shrilly; "it's only
-men that gives blows for kindness!"
-
-"Land of the living!" cried Silas, as a step sounded on the floor, and
-a queer figure came slowly into the glare of light by the lantern, a
-figure that had a Rembrandt effect in the shadow--an old man, lean and
-tall, shrouded in a long coat and bearing on his back a heavy basket.
-
-"You can't be a human creetur, comin' here to-night," said Maria; "mebbe
-you're the Santy Claus Jim used to tell on as the boys told him; no man
-in his senses would come to Sile Lowell's fur shelter."
-
-"M'ri's upsot," said Silas meekly, taking the lantern with trembling
-hand; "I guess you've got off the road; the tavern's two mile down
-toward the river."
-
-"You've followed the right road," said Maria; "you've come at a day of
-reck'nin'; everythin' in the house, the best, you shall have."
-
-She snatched the light from Silas and slammed the barn door, leaving
-Tige contentedly champing his oats, wondering if he was still
-dreaming, and if his wild swim had been a nightmare followed by a vision
-of plenty. In the kitchen Maria filled the stove, lit two lamps and
-began making new tea.
-
-"Thet was a good strong drorin' we hed fur supper, M'ri," said Silas,
-plaintively, keenly conscious of previous economies; "'pears to me you
-don't need no new." She paid no heed to him, but set the table with
-the best dishes, the preserves--Silas noted with a groan--and then with
-quick, skillful hand began cutting generous slices of ham.
-
-"I hope you're hungry, sir?" she asked eagerly.
-
-"Wal, I be, marm," said the stranger; "an' if it ain't no trouble, I'll
-set this ere basket nigh the stove, there's things in it as will spile.
-I be consederable hungry, ain't eat a bite sence yesterd'y."
-
-Silas's face grew longer and longer; he looked at the hamper hopefully.
-That might contain a peddler's outfit and "M'ri" could get paid that
-way.
-
-"An' I hain't money nor nawthin' to pay fur my vittles 'less there was
-wood-sawin' to be done."
-
-"Wood's all sawed," said Silas bitterly.
-
-"I wouldn't take a cent," went on Maria, with flushed cheeks and
-sparkling eyes. "Ann Kirk thet hed the name of bein' as mean as me, was
-berried to day, and folks that keered nawthin' fur her is a goin' to hev
-her money an' make it fly. They say 'round here no grass will ever grow
-on her grave, fur ev'ry blade will be blarsted by the curses of the
-poor."
-
-"M'ri, you a perfessed Christian!" cried Silas.
-
-"There's good folks unperfessed," interposed the stranger; "but I dunno
-but a near Christian is better nor a spendthrift one as fetches up at
-the poorhouse."
-
-"Right you air!" said Silas, almost affably feeling he had an advocate.
-
-The stranger was tall and bony, with a thin, wrinkled face bronzed by
-wind and weather, with a goatee and mustache of pale brown hair, and a
-sparse growth of the same above a high bald forehead; his eyes were a
-faded brown, too, and curiously wistful in expression. His clothing was
-worn and poor, his hands work-hardened, and he stooped slightly. When
-the meal was ready he drew up to the table, Maria plying him with food.
-
-"Would you rather have coffee?" she asked.
-
-"Now you've got me, marm, but land! tea'll do."
-
-"I should think it would," snarled Silas; but his grumbling was silenced
-in the grinding of the coffee mill. When the ap-appetizing odor floated
-from the stove, Silas sniffed it, and his stomach began to yearn. "You
-put in a solid cup full," he muttered, trying to worry himself into
-refusing it.
-
-"We want a lot," laughed Maria.
-
-"Set up an' eat," called the stranger cheerily; "let's make a banquet;
-it's Chrismus Eve!"
-
-"That ham do smell powerful good," muttered Silas, unconsciously drawing
-his chair up to the table, where the stranger handed him a plate and
-passed the ham. Maria went on frying eggs, as if, thought her husband,
-"they warn't twenty-five cents a dozen," and then ran down into the
-cellar, returning panting and good-humored with a pan of apples and a
-jug of cider; then into the pantry, bringing a tin box out of which she
-took a cake.
-
-"That's pound cake, M'ri," cried Silas, aghast, holding his knife and
-fork upraised in mute horror. She went on cutting thick slices, humming
-under her breath.
-
-"Might I, marm," asked the stranger, pleasantly, "put this slice of ham
-and cake and this cup of milk aside, to eat bymeby?"
-
-"How many meals do you eat in a evening?" growled Silas, awestruck at
-such an appetite; "an' I want you to know this ain't no tavern."
-
-"Do eat a bite yourself, marm," said the stranger, as Maria carried the
-filled plate to the cupboard. The impudence of a tramp actually asking
-the mistress of the house to eat her own food, thought Silas. "We've eat
-our supper," he hurled at the stranger.
-
-"I couldn't tech a mite," said Maria, beginning to clear up, and as he
-was through eating, the stranger gallantly helped her while Silas smoked
-in speechless rage.
-
-"I'm used to being handy," explained the tramp. "I allus helped wife.
-She's bin dead these twenty years, leaving me a baby girl that I brought
-up."
-
-"You was good to her?" asked Maria wistfully; the stranger had such a
-kind voice and gentle ways.
-
-"I done the best I could, marm." Doubting his senses, Silas saw Maria
-bring out the haircloth rocking-chair with the bead tidy from the best
-front room. "Lemme carry it," said the tramp politely. "Now set in't
-yerself, marin, an' be comfurble." He took a wooden chair, tilted it
-back and picked up the cat. Maria, before she sat down, unmindful of
-Silas's bewildered stare, filled one of his pipes with his tobacco.
-
-"I know you smoke, mister," she smiled.
-
-"Wal, I do," answered the tramp, whiffing away in great comfort. "'Pears
-to me you're the biggest-hearted woman I ever see."
-
-She laughed bitterly. "There wan't a cluser woman in Corinth than me,
-an' folks'll tell you so. I turned my own son outer doors."
-
-"It was part my fault, Mri, an' you hush now," pleaded Silas, forgiving
-even her giving his tobacco away if she would not bring out that family
-skeleton.
-
-"I've heered you was cluse," said the stranger, "an' thet you sent Jim
-off because he went to circuses in Bath, an' wore store clothes, an'
-wanted wages to pay for 'em."
-
-"All true," said Maria, "an' he wanted to ride the horse, an' was mad at
-workin' him so hard." She went on then, and told how the old animal had
-come home.
-
-"An' me thinkin' the critter was a speerit," said the stranger in a
-hushed voice. "Beat's all what a dumb brute knows!"
-
-"I thought mebbe," went on Maria, twisting her thin fingers, "as Jim
-might be comin' home this time. They says things happens curious when
-folks is goin' ter die----"
-
-"Your good fur a good meny years, M'ri," said Silas, pitifully.
-
-"There's folks in this wurld," said the stranger, his kindly face
-growing sad and careworn since the mother's eager words, "that ain't
-men enuff, an' comes to charity to the end----"
-
-"That there be," assented Silas.
-
-"And as can't bring up their folks comfurble, nor keep 'em well an'
-happy, nor have a home as ain't berried under a mortgage they can't
-never clear off."
-
-"Ay, there's lots of 'em," cried Silas, "an' Mis Lowell was a twitting
-me this very night of bein' mean."
-
-"An' this good home, an' the fields I passed thro', an' the lane where
-the old hoss come a gallopin' up behind me, is paid fur, no mortgage on
-a acre?"
-
-"There never was on the Lowell prop'ty; they'll tell ye thet ennywhere,"
-said Silas.
-
-"We uns in the South, where I come from," said the stranger, shading
-his face with his bony hand, "ain't never forehanded somehow. My name is
-Dexter Brown, marm, an' I was alius misfortinat. I tell you, marm, one
-day when my creditors come an' took the cotton off my field, thet
-I'd plarnted and weeded and worked over in the brilin' sun, my wife
-says--an' she'd been patient and long-sufferin'--'Dex, I'm tired out;
-jest you bury me in a bit of ground that's paid fur, an' I'll lie in
-peace,' an' she died thet night."
-
-"Mebbe she never knowed what it were to scrimp an' save, an' do without,
-an never see nawthin', till all the good died in her," muttered Maria.
-
-"Part o' my debt was wines an' good vittles fur her, marm."
-
-"I'll warrant!" said Maria quickly, "an' she never wept over the graves
-of her dead children, an' heered their father complainin' of how much
-their sickness hed cost him. Oh, I tell you, there's them that reckons
-human agony by dollars an' cents, an' they're wus'n murderers!"
-
-"M'ri!" cried Silas.
-
-"Mebbe, marm, you are over-worrited ternight," said the stranger softly;
-"wimmen is all feelin', God bless 'em! an' how yer son loved ye, a
-tellin' of yer bright eyes an' red cheeks----"
-
-She turned to him with fierce eagerness. "He couldn't keer fur me, I
-wan't the kind. I don't mind me of hardly ever kissin' him. I worked
-him hard; I was cross an' stingy. He sed to me, 'There's houses that is
-never homes, mother.' I sneered an' blamed him for his little present."
-She ran and brought the vase. "I've kept that, Mr. Brown, over twenty
-years, but when he give it to me, bought outer his poor little savin's,
-I scolded him. I never let him hev the boys here to pop corn or make
-candy; it was waste and litter. Oh, I know what he meant; this was never
-a home."
-
-"But he only spoke kind of ye alius."
-
-"Did you know Jim? Been gone this ten year, an' never a word."
-
-Silas, a queer shadow on his face, looked eagerly at Brown.
-
-"I did know him," slowly and cautiously--"he was a cowboy in Texas, as
-brave as the best."
-
-"He could ride," cried Maria, "as part of a horse, an' Tige was the dead
-image of that Washington horse in the pictur, an' Jim used to say thet
-girl there in the blue gown was his girl--the one with the bouquet; an'
-I used to call him silly. I chilled all the fun he hed outer him, an'
-broken-speerited an' white-faced he drifted away from us, as far away as
-them in the graveyard, with the same weary look as they hed in goin'."
-
-"An' he took keer of much as a hundred cattle," said Silas; "they has
-thet meny I've heerd, in Texas?"
-
-"They has thousands; they loses hundreds by drought----"
-
-"Wanter know?" cried Silas, his imagination refusing to grasp such awful
-loss.
-
-"Wal, I knowed Jim, an' he got mer-ried----"
-
-"Merried!" from both the old parents. "He did. He says, 'I wunt write
-the home-folks till I'm well off, for mother will worrit an' blame me,
-an' I hain't money, but Minnie an' I love each other, an' are satisfied
-with little.'"
-
-"Minnie," the mother repeated. "Was she pretty?"
-
-"Woman all over you be, to ask thet, an' she was," said Brown, sadly;
-"with dark eyes, sorter wistful, an' hair like crinkled sunshine, an'
-a laugh like a merry child, fur trouble slipped off her shoulders like
-water off a duck's back."
-
-"An' they got prosperous?" asked Silas uneasily.
-
-"They was happy," said Brown with gentle dignity; "they was alius happy,
-but they lived under a mortgage, an' it was drift from pillar to post,
-an' ups an' downs.
-
-"An' they're poor now," muttered Silas, visions of Jim and his family to
-support coming to him.
-
-"Hush!" cried Maria. "Tell me, sir, was there children? Oh, the heart
-hunger I've had for the sound of a child's voice, the touch of baby
-hands. You an' me grandpa and grandma, Sile! an', my God! you think of
-money now."
-
-"Set calm," pleaded Brown, "for I must hev courage to tell ye all."
-
-"An' they sent ye to tell us they was comin'?" asked Silas, judging of
-their prosperity from the shabby herald.
-
-"They asked me to come, an' I swore it. There's a queer blight as
-creeps inter our country, which without thet might be like everlasting
-Paradise. Ourn is a land of summer an' flowers, but up here in this
-ice-bound region, the air is like water in runnin' brooks, it puts life
-an' health in ye."
-
-"There's the blight o' consumption here. We're foreordained to suffer
-all over this airth," muttered the woman.
-
-"But there it comes in waves of trouble--in awful haste--an' takes all
-at once, an' them that's well flees away and the sick dies alone. So the
-yellow fever come creepin' inter my home, fur Minnie was my child--the
-daughter I'd keered fur; an' fust the baby went from her arms, an' then
-little Silas (arter you, sir). Then Minnie sickened, an' her laugh is
-only an echo in my heart, for she died and was berried, the baby in her
-arms, and Jim was took next--an' he says" (only the ticking of the clock
-sounded now, never so loud before): "'I want you, dad,' (he called me
-dad) 'to go to my old home in Maine. I want you to tell my father I
-named my dead boy for him, and I thought of his frugal, saving life with
-pain, and yet I am proud that his name is respected as that of an honest
-man, whose word is his bond. I'll never go up the old lane again,' says
-Jim, 'nor see mother standing in the door with her bright eyes and red
-cheeks that I used to think was like winter apples. And the old horse,
-she said she'd care for, I won't see him again, nor hear the bells. In
-this land of summer I only long for winter, and dad, if I could hear
-those hoarse old jolly bells I'd die in peace. Queer, ain't it? And I
-remember some rides I took mother; she wan't afraid of the colt, and
-looked so pretty, a white hood over her dark hair. You go, dad, and say
-I was sorry, and I'd planned to come some day prosperous and happy,
-but it's never to be. Tell mother to think of me when she goes a Sunday
-afternoon to the buryin'-ground, as she used to with me, and by those
-little graves I fek her mother's heart beat for me, her living child,
-and I knew, though she said nothing, she cared for me.' He died tell-in'
-me this, marm, an' was berried by my girl, an' I think it was meant kind
-they went together, for both would a pined apart. So I've come all the
-way from Texas, trampin' for weary months, for I was poor, to give you
-Jim's words."
-
-"Dead! Jim dead!" cried Silas, in a queer, dazed way. "M'ri,"
-querulously, "you alius sed he was so helthy!"
-
-She went to him and laid her hand on his bowed head.
-
-"An' we've saved an' scrimped an' pinched fur strangers, M'ri, fur there
-ain't no Lowell to have the prop'ty, an' I meant it all fur Jim. When he
-was to come back he'd find he was prosperous, an' he'd think how I tried
-to make him so."
-
-"The Lord don't mean all dark clouds in this life," said the stranger.
-"Out of that pestilence, that never touched her with its foul breath,
-came a child, with Minnie's face and laugh, but Jim's own eyes--a bit of
-mother an' father."
-
-The old people were looking at him with painful eagerness, dwelling on
-his every word.
-
-"It was little May; named Maria, but we called her May for she was
-borned three year ago in that month; a tiny wee thing, an' I stood by
-their graves an' I hardened my heart. 'They drove her father out; they
-sha'n't crush her young life,' I said. 'I'll keep her.' But I knowed I
-couldn't. Poverty was grinding me, and with Jim's words directin' me, I
-brought her here."
-
-"Brought her here!" cried the poor woman.
-
-"Ay! She's a brave little lass, an' I told her to lie quiet in the
-basket till I told her to come out, fur mebbe you wan't kind an' would
-send us both out, but I found your hearts ready fur her----"
-
-With one spring Maria reached the basket and flung open the lid,
-disclosing a tiny child wrapped in a ragged shawl, sleeping peacefully
-in her cramped bed, but with tears on her long lashes, as if the waiting
-had tried her brave little soul.
-
-"Jest as gritty," said Brown, "an' so good to mind; poor lass!"
-
-Maria lifted her out, and the child woke up, but did not cry at the
-strange face that smiled on her with such pathetic eagerness. "Oh, the
-kitty!" cried May. "I had a kitty once!" That familiar household object
-reconciled her at once. She ate the cake eagerly and drank the milk,
-insisting on feeding the ham to the cat.
-
-"Him looks hungry," she said.
-
-"We've all been starved!" cried Maria, clasping the child to her heart.
-
-Such a beautiful child, with her merry eyes and laugh and her golden
-curls, a strange blossom from a New England soil, yet part of her
-birthright was the land of flowers and sunshine. Somehow that pathetic
-picture of the past faded when the mother saw a blue and gilt vase in
-the baby's hand--Jim's baby's.
-
-"It's pitty; fank you!" said the little creature. Then she got down to
-show her new dress and her shoes, and made excursions into the pantry,
-opening cupboard doors, but touching nothing, only exclaiming, "Dear me,
-how pitty!" at everything. Then she came back, and at Brown's request,
-with intense gravity, began a Spanish dance she had learned when they
-stopped at San Antonio, from watching the Mexican senoritas. She held
-up her little gown on one side and gravely made her steps while Dexter
-whistled. The fire leaped up and crackled loudly, as if it would join
-her, the cat purred, the tea-kettle sung from the back of the stove,
-and little snowflakes, themselves hurrying, skurrying in a merry dance,
-clung to the win dow-pane and called other little flakes to hasten and
-see such a pretty sight. Maria watched in breathless eagerness, and
-Silas, carried beyond himself, forgetting his scruples, cried out:
-"Wal, ef that don't beat all I ever see! Come here, you little chick!"
-holding out his silver watch.
-
-With a final pirouette she finished with a grave little courtesy, then
-ran to Silas: "Is there birdie in der?" and he caught her up and kissed
-her.
-
-When the old lane is shady in summertime, and golden-rod and daisies
-crowd the way, and raspberries climb the stonewall, and merry squirrels
-chatter and mock the red-breasted robins, and bees go humming through
-the ordorous air, there comes a big white horse that looks like
-Washington's in the picture; and how carefully he walks and bears
-himself, for he brings a little princess who has made the old house
-a home. Such a fairylike little thing, who from her sunshine makes
-everybody bright and happy, and Silas' grim old face is smiling as he
-leads the horse, and Maria, with her basket of berries, is helped over
-the wall by Dexter Brown, who always says he must go but never does,
-for they love him, and he and Silas work harmoniously together. And
-grandma's eyes are brighter than ever and her cheeks as red.
-
-"What comfortable folks they air gittin' to be," say the neighbors,
-"kinder livin', but I dunno but goin' a berryin' a hull arternoon is
-right down shiftless."
-
-Winter is over and forever gone from that household on the hill; the
-coming of gracious, smiling spring in a sweet child's presence has made
-eternal sunshine in those ice-bound hearts.
-
-[Illustration: 5359]
-
-[Illustration: 0360]
-
-
-
-
-CYNTHY'S JOE, By Clara Sprague Ross
-
-
-|I DON'T think he'll be sech a fool as to p'int fer home the fust
-thing he does." The speaker, a young man with a dull, coarse face and
-slouching air, knocked the ashes from a half-smoked cigar with his
-little finger, which was heavily ornamented with a large seal ring, and
-adjusted himself to a more comfortable position.
-
-"I dun'no which p'int o' the compass he'd more naterally turn to,"
-observed another; an elderly man with a stoop in his shoulders, and a
-sharp, thin face that with all its petty shrewdness was not without its
-compensating feature--a large and kindly mouth. The third man in the
-little group was slowly walking back and forth on the platform that ran
-across the station, rolling and unrolling a small red flag which he held
-in his hands. He turned with a contemptuous "umph" to the young man,
-remarking as he did so, "'Tain't mostly fools as goes to prison. Joe
-Atherton prob'ly has as many friends in this section o' the kentry as
-some who hain't been away so much."
-
-"Joe was a good little boy," pursued the old station-master; "he wuz
-allers kind to his mother. I never heard a word ag'in him till that city
-swell came down here fer the summer and raised blazes with the boy."
-
-"If there ain't the Squire!" exclaimed a hitherto silent member; "he's
-the last man as I should jedge would come to the deepo to welcome Joe
-Atherton."
-
-A stout, florid, pompous individual slowdy mounted the platform steps,
-wiping his forehead with a flaming red silk handkerchief, which he
-had taken from his well-worn straw hat. "Warm afternoon, friends," he
-suggested, with an air of having vastly contributed to the information
-of the men, whose only apparent concern in life was an anxiety to find a
-shady corner within conversational distance of each other.
-
-The Squire seated himself in the only chair of which the forlorn station
-boasted; he leaned back until his head was conveniently supported, and
-furtively glanced at a large old-fashioned watch which he drew from his
-vest pocket.
-
-"Train's late this a'ternoon, Squar'," said the man with the red flag. "I
-reckon ye'll all hev to go home without seein' the show; 'tain't no ways
-sartin Joe'll come to-day. Parson Mayhew sed his time was up the fust
-week in September, but there's no tellin' the day as I knows on."
-
-A sustained, heavy rumble sounded in the distance. Each man straightened
-himself and turned his head to catch the first glimpse of the
-approaching engine, With a shriek and only a just perceptible lessening
-of its speed, the mighty train rushed by them without stopping, and was
-out of sight before the eager watchers regained the power of speech.
-
-Five minutes later the red flag was in its place behind the door, its
-keeper turned the key and hastened to overtake his neighbor, who had
-reached the highway. Hearing the hurrying footsteps behind him, the man
-turned, saying triumphantly, "I'm right-down, glad he didn't come."
-
-"So be I; there's an express late this evenin' that might bring him
-down. I shall be here if Louisy's so as I kin leave her."
-
-"Wa'al," returned the other, "I shan't be over ag'in to-night, but you
-jest tell Joe, fer me, to come right ta my house; he's welcome. Whatever
-he done as a boy, he's atoned fer in twenty years. I remember jest how
-white and sot his face was the day they took him away; he was only a boy
-then, he's a man now, gray-headed most likely; the Athertons turned gray
-early, and sorrow and sin are terrible helps to white hair."
-
-The old man's voice faltered a little; he drew the back of his hard,
-brown hand across his eyes. Something that neither of the men could
-have defined prompted them to shake hands at the "Corners"; they did so
-silently, and without looking up.
-
-Joe came that night. The moon and the stars were the silent and only
-witnesses of the convict's return. It was just as Joe had hoped it might
-be; yet there was in the man's soul an awful sense of his loneliness and
-isolation The eager, wistful light faded out of his large blue eyes, the
-lines about his firm, tightly-drawn mouth deepened, the whole man took
-on an air of sullen defiance. Nobody cared for him, why should he care?
-He wondered if "Uncle Aaron," as the boys used to call him, still kept
-the old station and signaled the trains. Alas! it was one of "Louisy's"
-bad nights; her husband could not leave her, and so Joe missed forever
-the cordial hand old Aaron would have offered him, and the kind message
-he was to give him, for his neighbor.
-
-Sadly, wearily, Joe turned and walked toward the road, lying white
-and still in the moonlight. His head dropped lower and lower upon his
-breast; without lifting it he put out his hand, at length, and raised
-the latch of a dilapidated gate that opened into a deep, weed-entangled
-yard. His heart was throbbing wildly, a fierce, hot pain shot through
-his eyes. Could he ever look up? He knew the light of the home he was
-seeking had gone out in darkness years before. The only love in the
-world that would have met him without question or reproach was silent
-forever; but here was her home--his home once--the little white house
-with its green blinds and shady porch.
-
-He must look up or his heart would burst. With a cry that rang loud and
-clear on the quiet night, he fell upon his face, his fingers clutching
-and tearing the long, coarse grass. There was no house--no home--only
-a mass of blackened timbers, a pile of ashes, the angle of a tumbling
-wall. Hardly knowing what he did, Joe crept into the shelter of the old
-stone wall. With his face buried in his hands he lived over again, in
-one short half-hour, the life he hoped he had put away when the prison
-doors closed behind him. All through the day there had struggled in his
-heart a faint, unreasoning faith that life might yet hold something fair
-for him; one ray of comfort, one word of kindness, and faith would have
-become a reality. As the man, at last lifted his pale, agonized face to
-the glittering sky above him he uttered no word of prayer or entreaty,
-but with the studied self-control that years of repression had taught
-him, he rose from the ground and walked slowly out of the yard and
-down the cheerless road again to the station. Life hereafter could mean
-nothing to him but a silent moving-on. Whenever or wherever he
-became known, men would shrink and turn away from him. There was no
-abiding-place, no home, no love for him in all God's mighty world. He
-accepted the facts; there was only one relief--somewhere, some time, a
-narrow bed would open for him and the green sod would shelter the man
-and his sin till eternity.
-
-He hastily plucked a bit of golden-rod that nodded by the roadside; then
-taking a small, ragged book from a pocket just over his heart, he opened
-it and put the yellow spray between the leaves. As he did so a bit of
-paper fluttered to the ground. Joe stooped and picked it up. It was a
-letter he had promised to deliver from a fellow-prisoner to his mother
-in a distant town.
-
-Not very far away an engine whistled at a crossing. A slowly moving
-freight and accommodation train pulled up at the depot a few moments
-later. Joe entered the dark, ill-smelling car at the rear and turned his
-face once more to the world.
-
-It was in the early twilight of the next evening that Joe found himself
-in the hurry and confusion of a large manufacturing town. As he passed
-from the great depot into the brilliantly lighted street, he was
-bewildered for a moment and stood irresolute, with his hand shading his
-eyes. At one corner of the park that lay between the station and the
-next street, a man with a Punch-and-Judy theatre had drawn around him a
-crowd of men, women, and children. Joe mechanically directed his steps
-that way, and unconsciously became a part of the swaying, laughing
-audience.
-
-"Hold me up once more, do Mariar, I can't see nothin'," begged a piping,
-childish voice at Joe's knee.
-
-"I can't, Cynthy; my arms is most broke now holdin' of ye; ef you
-don't stop teasin' I'll never take ye nowheres again," replied a tall,
-handsome girl, to whom the child was clinging.
-
-Joe bent without a word, and picking up the small, ill-shaped morsel of
-human longing and curiosity, swung her upon his broad shoulder, where
-she sat watching the tiny puppets and listening to their shrill cries,
-oblivious of all else in the world. Once she looked down into the man's
-face with her great, dark, fiery eyes and said softly, "Oh, how good you
-are!" A shiver ran through Joe's frame; these were the first words that
-had been addressed to him since he said good-bye to the warden in that
-dreary corridor, which for this one moment had been forgotten. The
-little girl, without turning her eyes from the dancing figures before
-her, put one arm about Joe's neck and nestled a little closer to him.
-Joe could have stood forever. The tall, dark girl, however, had missed
-Cynthy's tiresome pulling at her skirts and the whining voice. She
-looked anxiously about and called "Cynthy! Cynthy! where are you? I'll
-be thankful if ever I gets you back to your grandmother." The fretful
-words aroused Joe from his happy reverie; he hurriedly placed the child
-on the pavement, and in an instant was lost in the crowd.
-
-He set out upon his quest the following morning and had no difficulty in
-finding the old woman he was seeking. At one of a dozen doors marking as
-many divisions of a long, low tenement building near the river, he had
-knocked, and the door had opened into a small, clean kitchen, where a
-bright fire burned in a tiny stove, and a row of scarlet geraniums
-in pots ornamented the front window. The woman who admitted him he
-recognized at once as the mother of the man in that far-away prison,
-whose last hold-upon love and goodness was the remembrance of the aged,
-wrinkled face so wonderfully like his own. In a corner behind the door
-there stood an old-fashioned trundle-bed. As Joe stepped into the room a
-child, perhaps ten years old, started up from it, exclaiming "That's the
-man, Granny; the man who put me on his shoulder, when Mariar was cross.
-Come in! come in, man," she urged.
-
-"Be still, Cynthy," retorted the grandmother, not unkindly, as she
-placed a chair for Joe, who was walking over to the little bed from
-which the child was evidently not able to rise alone. Two frail hands
-were outstretched to him, two great black eyes were raised to his full
-of unspoken gratitude. Joe took the soiled letter from its hiding-place
-and gave it to the woman without a word. She glanced at the scarcely
-legible characters, and went into an adjoining room, her impassive face
-working convulsively.
-
-"What's the matter with Granny, was she crying? I never seen her cry
-before," said Cynthy. "Granny's had heaps o' trouble. I'm all thet's
-left of ten children and a half-dozen grandchildren. She says I'm the
-poorest of the lot, too, with the big bone thet's grow'd out on my back;
-it aches orful nights, and makes my feet so tired and shaky mornin's.
-Granny's kind o' queer; some days she just sets and looks into the fire
-fer hours without speakin', and it's so still I kin a'most hear my heart
-beat; and I think, and think, and never speak, neither, till Granny
-comes back and leans over me and kisses me; then it's all right ag'in,
-an' Granny makes a cup o' tea an' a bite o' toast and the sun comes in
-the winder, and I forget 'bout the pain, an' go out with Mariar, when
-she'll take me, like I did last night."
-
-The child's white, pinched features flushed feverishly, her solemn,
-dusky eyes burned like coals. She had been resting her chin in her
-hands, and gazing up into Joe's face with a fascinated intensity.
-She fell back wearily upon the pillows as the door opened, and her
-grandmother returned and put her hand on Joe's shoulder, saying
-brokenly, "You've been very kind." The little clock on the shelf over
-the kitchen table ticked merrily, and the tea-kettle hummed, as if it
-would drown the ticking, while Joe and Cynthy's grandmother discussed
-and planned for the future.
-
-It was finally settled that Joe should look for work in Danvers, and if
-he found it, his home should be with the old woman and Cynthy. He did
-not try to express the joy that surged over and through his heart, that
-rushed up into his brain, until his head was one mad whirl; but with a
-firm, quick step and a brave, calm look on his strong face, he went out
-to take his place in the busy, struggling world--a man among men.
-
-Two months passed; months of toil, of anxiety, sometimes of fear;
-but Joe was so gladdened and comforted by Cynthy's childish love and
-confidence, that, little by little, he came out of the shadow that had
-threatened to blacken his life, into the sunshine and peace of a homely,
-self-sacrificing existence in "Riverside Row."
-
-Cynthy's ideas of heaven were very vague, and not always satisfactory,
-even to herself, but she often wondered, since Joe came, if heaven
-ever began here and she was not tasting some of its minor delights. Of
-course, she did not put it in just this way; but Cynthy's heaven was a
-place where children walked and were never tired, where above all things
-they wore pretty clothes and had everything that was denied them on
-earth. Joe had realized so many of the child's wild dreams, had made
-possible so many longed-for or unattainable pleasures, had so brightened
-and changed her weary, painful life, that to Cynthy's eyes there was
-always about his head a halo as in the pictures of Granny's saints;
-goodness, kindness, generosity--love, were for her spelled with three
-letters, and read--Joe. Out of the hard-earned wages the man put into
-Granny's hand every Saturday night, there was always a little
-reserved for Cynthy. Her grandmother sometimes fretted or occasionally
-remonstrated; but Joe was firm. Alas! human life, like the never-resting
-earth, of which it is a part, swings out of the sunlight into the
-shadow, out of the daytime into the darkness through which the moon and
-the stars do not always shine.
-
-One night, a bitter, stormy night in November, he was a little late in
-leaving his work. He had to pass, on his way out of the building, a knot
-of men who were talking in suppressed voices. They did not ask him
-to join them, but the words "prison-scab," "jail-bird", fell on his
-ever-alert ear. With a shudder he hurried on.
-
-Granny was stooping over the trundle-bed in a vain attempt to quiet the
-child, who was tossing upon it, in pain and delirium. Cynthy had slipped
-upon a piece of ice a few days before, and now she was never free from
-the torturing, burning pain in her back. Sometimes it was in her head,
-too, and then with shrill, harsh cries, she begged for Joe, until Granny
-thanked God when the factory-whistle blew and she heard the man's quick,
-short step on the pavement. Joe warmed himself at the fire for a moment,
-then taking Cynthy in his tired arms, he walked slowly up and down the
-room. Through the long, dreary night he patiently carried the moaning
-child. If he attempted, never so carefully, to lay her down, she clung
-to him so wildly or cried so wearily that Joe could only soothe her
-and take lip the tiresome march again. Granny, thoroughly worn out, sat
-sleeping in her large chair. Cynthy grew more restless. Once she nearly
-sprang from Joe's arms, screaming, "Go way, Mariar; you're a hateful
-thing! I won't listen; 'tain't true; Joe is good," and dropping back
-heavily, she whispered, "I love you, Joe." She knew, then! Joe thought
-his heart would never throb again.
-
-He listened for the early morning whistles. One by one they sounded on
-the clear, keen air, but never the one for which he waited. As soon
-as it was light, he peered through the ice-covered window at the tall
-chimneys just beyond the "Row." They rose grim and silent, but no smoke
-issued from them. The end had come. Joe knew a strike was on.
-
-Sometime in the afternoon of that day Cynthy suffered herself to be
-placed on the small, white bed; but she was not willing Joe should leave
-her, and was quiet only when he held her feeble hand in his close grasp.
-No sound escaped the man's white lips. Only God and the angels watched
-his struggle with the powers of darkness. As night came on again, Cynthy
-sank into a heavy sleep, and Joe, released, took his hat and went out
-very softly.
-
-He stopped after a long walk at the massive doors of a "West End"
-palace. He followed with downcast eyes the servant who answered his ring
-into a small but elegant reception-room, where he was told he might wait
-for the master of the house, the owner of the large manufactory where he
-was employed. Into the patient ear of this man, whom he had never seen
-before, Joe poured the story of his life. The sin, the shame, the agony
-of despair, his salvation through Cynthy.
-
-"I will call my son," said the sympathizing old gentleman as Joe rose to
-go; "he is one of Danvers' best physicians. He will go with you and see
-what can be done for the little girl."
-
-An hour later the two men were bending over the sick child. "She is very
-ill," said the young doctor, in reply ta Joe's mute, appealing face.
-"This stupor may end in death, or it may result in a sleep which will
-bring relief. You must be brave, my friend. A few hours to-night will
-decide. You may hope." Joe's weary limbs faltered beneath him. He fell
-upon his knees breathing a wordless prayer that the child might be
-spared to bless and comfort hi& lonely, aching heart; while all unseen
-the Angel of Life hovered over the little bed.
-
-[Illustration: 5372]
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-End of Project Gutenberg's Rancho Del Muerto, by Charles King and Various
-
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-    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" />
-    <title>
-      Rancho Del Muerto, by Charles King
-    </title>
-    <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" />
-    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
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-<pre>
-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rancho Del Muerto, by Charles King and Various
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-
-
-Title: Rancho Del Muerto
-       and Other Stories of Adventure from "Outing" by Various Authors
-
-Author: Charles King
-        Various
-
-Release Date: May 1, 2016 [EBook #51919]
-Last Updated: March 15, 2018
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RANCHO DEL MUERTO ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by David Widger from page images generously
-provided by the Internet Archive
-
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
-    <div style="height: 8em;">
-      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h1>
-      RANCHO DEL MUERTO
-    </h1>
-    <h2>
-      By Charles King, Capt. U. S. Army.
-    </h2>
-    <h3>
-      And Other Stories of Adventure by Various Authors
-    </h3>
-    <h4>
-      From &ldquo;Outing&rdquo; (Illustrated)
-    </h4>
-    <h4>
-      The Outing Publishing Company,
-    </h4>
-    <h5>
-      New York And London
-    </h5>
-    <h5>
-      1895
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0001.jpg" alt="0001 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0001.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0007.jpg" alt="0007 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0007.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <b>CONTENTS</b>
-    </p>
-    <p class="toc">
-      <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> RANCHO DEL MUERTO, By Charles King, Capt. U. S.
-      Army. </a>
-    </p>
-    <p class="toc">
-      <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> A MIGHTY HUNTER BEFORE THE LORD, By Virginius
-      Dabney. </a>
-    </p>
-    <p class="toc">
-      <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> A CAHUTTA VALLEY SHOOTING MATCH, By Will N.
-      Harben </a>
-    </p>
-    <p class="toc">
-      <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> MOERAN'S MOOSE&mdash;A HUNTING STORY, By Ed. W.
-      Sandys. </a>
-    </p>
-    <p class="toc">
-      <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> THE MYSTERY OF A CHRISTMAS HUNT, By Talbot
-      Torrance </a>
-    </p>
-    <p class="toc">
-      <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> HERNE THE HUNTER, By William Perry Brown </a>
-    </p>
-    <p class="toc">
-      <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> UNCLE DUKE'S &ldquo;B'AR&rdquo; STORY, By Lillian Gilfillan
-      </a>
-    </p>
-    <p class="toc">
-      <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> A CIGARETTE FROM CARCINTO, By Edward French </a>
-    </p>
-    <p class="toc">
-      <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> ANTAEUS, By Frank M. Bicknell </a>
-    </p>
-    <p class="toc">
-      <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> WHICH MISS CHARTERIS, By C. G. Rogers </a>
-    </p>
-    <p class="toc">
-      <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> THE BEAR'S-HEAD BROOCH, By Ernest Ingersoll
-      </a>
-    </p>
-    <p class="toc">
-      <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> MISS GWYNNE'S BURGLAR, By Violet Etynge Mitchell
-      </a>
-    </p>
-    <p class="toc">
-      <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> THE LADY IN ROUGE, By W. E. P. French </a>
-    </p>
-    <p class="toc">
-      <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> THE BREAKING OF WINTER, By Patience Stapleton
-      </a>
-    </p>
-    <p class="toc">
-      <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> CYNTHY'S JOE, By Clara Sprague Ross </a>
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /> <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /> <br /> <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div style="height: 4em;">
-      <br /><br /><br /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h2>
-      RANCHO DEL MUERTO, By Charles King, Capt. U. S. Army.
-    </h2>
-    <h3>
-      FIRST PART
-    </h3>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="figleft" style="width:20%;">
-      <img src="images/9013.jpg" alt="9013 " width="100%" /><br /><a
-      href="images/9013.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </div>
-    <p>
-      O denying it&mdash;there was something uncanny about the place at the very
-      first glance. The paymaster admitted that to himself as his ambulance
-      slowly drove in, and his escort of half a dozen troopers came clattering
-      after. It was his first visit to the spot, and he shrugged his broad
-      shoulders and murmured a word of caution to the silent clerk who sat
-      beside him:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0015.jpg" alt="0015 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0015.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0016.jpg" alt="0016 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0016.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I want you to keep eyes and ears open here, Staines. We've got to make a
-      night of it. You remember that this is where Sergeant Dinsmore was
-      murdered, and I've heard nothing but bad accounts of the people for the
-      last six months.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Mr. Staines was apparently a man who wasted no words. Acquiescence with
-      him may have been expressed by silence. At all events he made no reply.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Were you ever at the ranch before, when you made the trips with Colonel
-      Forte?&rdquo; asked the paymaster.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;No, sir, it's&mdash;all strange to me hereabouts.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;How far are we from Canyon del Muerto now, sergeant?&rdquo; asked the officer
-      of the bearded trooper who rode close alongside.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Sixteen miles, sir, on a bee line, but at least twenty by the road. We're
-      off the direct trail now. We could have got through the canyon and reached
-      the camp before this if that mule hadn't gone lame.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Major,&rdquo; said Staines in a low tone, &ldquo;I can get a saddle horse or mule
-      here, no doubt. Had I not better ride right on? I can reach Captain
-      Rawlins' camp by 9 or 10 o'clock. He will be mighty anxious at your
-      non-arrival.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I was thinking of sending one man ahead; I don't like to let you go. It
-      will wear you out for to-morrow's work.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Indeed it won't, sir; I'm feeling fresh enough, and the change from wagon
-      to saddle will just suit me. I think I'd better go.&rdquo; And there was an
-      eager look in Staines' clear-cut face.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I'll think about it&rdquo; was the dubious answer. &ldquo;These cavalry men are the
-      proper ones to send, not a paymaster's clerk. If anything befell you on
-      the route I would be crippled in making payments.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Nothing would be apt to befall me, sir; I know that road well.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I thought you said all was strange to you hereabouts&rdquo; said the paymaster
-      quickly. But the clerk showed no discomfiture.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I said here, around the ranch. The direct road lies off there nearly nine
-      miles to the southwest, sir. That is the one we always took going to
-      Tucson.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The paymaster relapsed into silence. It is all very well to have
-      subordinates who know far more than does the senior officer, yet the
-      latter does not always find it agreeable. His own clerk having resigned
-      some six months previous and returned to the East, when Major Sherrick was
-      ordered from San Francisco to Arizona he had employed Mr. Staines at the
-      urgent request of the officer whom he relieved. Staines had property
-      interests in the Territory, he was told, and wanted to remain. He was a
-      man profoundly versed in his duties; accurate, temperate, reliable and of
-      unimpeachable character, said his recommenders. Sherrick was glad to get
-      him, for he himself had no head for figures, and had been made a paymaster
-      from civil life simply because his uncle the Senator found him a failure
-      in every other capacity, and demanded the appointment of an Executive who
-      could not deny him, though he felt like kicking himself when he looked at
-      the long list of grizzled, war-tried captains who were wistful applicants
-      for the longed-for promotion.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      A tall Mexican stepped forward with much urbanity and grace of manner to
-      assist the paymaster to alight as the ambulance stopped in front of the
-      ranch, and Major Sherrick looked with emotions of surprise upon Pedro
-      Ruiz, the proprietor.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You don't mean to say that's the scoundrel we heard so much bad talk
-      about at headquarters?&rdquo; he whispered to Staines at the first opportunity.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;The very same, sir; the most accomplished cutthroat in Arizona, if we can
-      believe our senses and disregard evidence.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Where are his men? He seems alone here, all but that old greaser yonder.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Dios sabe,&rdquo; answered the clerk briefly, though his eyes glanced quickly
-      away toward the purpling range to the south. &ldquo;But we shall need our guards
-      every moment we are here, sir, that's certain.&rdquo; An hour later night had
-      settled down upon the broad valley, black and forbidding. All day long the
-      wind had been sighing about the corral, whirling clouds of dust from the
-      loose, sandy soil and sifting it in through many a chink and crevice over
-      the floor of Pedro's ranch. The great ranges to the northwest, the Sierras
-      to the south, were whitecapped at their lofty summits, but all over the
-      arid miles of surrounding desert the sun had been hotly blazing from noon
-      to the dewless eve, and not until it sank behind the western wave did the
-      wind sweep down untempered. Through its shallow bed the Gila rolled, a
-      lazy, turbid current, not a rifle shot away. Quicksands and muddy pools
-      flanked its course for miles and barred all attempts at crossing except at
-      the point where thrifty Pedro had &ldquo;corduroyed&rdquo; the flats with boards that
-      had formerly done duty at the agency building, and, having originally cost
-      the paternal Government something in the neighborhood of $1 apiece, had
-      now come down to the base uses of daily trampling under foot. The stage to
-      the Gripsack Mines, the huge ox teams and triple-hitched wagons, the
-      nimble pack mules, even the buckboard with the United States mail, paid
-      reluctant tribute into Pedro's dingy palm, though the owners mentally
-      damned him for a thief.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Everybody in that part of Arizona well knew that in the unprecedented rise
-      of the Gila, a few years back, two of the agency storehouses had been
-      floated away down the stream, accompanied by a dense flotilla of joists,
-      scantling and clapboards, which had been piled up on the river bank after
-      weeks of laborious transportation from Plummer's saw mill in the San
-      Gabriel. So, too, had sundry casks of bacon, barrels of beans and bales of
-      Indian goods; and while portions of this flood-swept assortment were found
-      stranded and scattered along the winding shores as far down as Pedro's
-      bailiwick, not so much as a solitary shingle had passed beyond, and the
-      laws of flotsam and jetsam had received at the hands of this shrewd
-      &ldquo;greaser&rdquo; their most liberal construction. More than once had the Federal
-      authorities been compelled to proceed to stringent measures with Pedro and
-      arraign him before a jury of his peers on charges of having robbed and
-      defrauded the General Government, and more than once with prompt and
-      cheering unanimity had the jury pronounced him not guilty, a service which
-      he never failed to requite in kind when Garcia, Gomez or Sancho came up
-      for his turn. And now the old Mexican was proprietor of a goodly ranch,
-      built mainly of adobe, it is true, as were his roomy corrals and
-      storehouses, yet roofed, floored, partitioned, doored and menu for either
-      breakfast, dinner or supper, at a charge of $1 a head for any and all
-      travelers who sought to appease their appetite at his table. He kept a
-      bar, too, and dealt out villainous &ldquo;tanglefoot&rdquo; and windowed, too, by the
-      unwilling contributions wrung from Uncle Sam.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      For three years he had furnished bacon, <i>frijoles</i> and fried eggs,
-      the unvarying fiery mescal to such stomachs as could stand the onslaught
-      and the tax of two bits a thimbleful. He ran a &ldquo;brace game&rdquo; of monte
-      whenever the packers were drunk or strangers fool enough to play. He was a
-      thorough-paced rascal in the opinion of every &ldquo;gringo&rdquo; who passed that
-      way, and a man of unimpeachable character according to all records in the
-      case. He was a &ldquo;greaser&rdquo; of whom everything had been said and nothing
-      proved; that is, to the satisfaction of an old-time Arizona jury. But Mr.
-      Whitlock, the new United States District Attorney, was said to be &ldquo;laying&rdquo;
-       for Pedro, and between those who knew them both and were aware of the
-      possibilities of finding twelve better men and truer outside of Maricopa
-      County, bets were even as to the result.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0021.jpg" alt="0021 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0021.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Just let me get that thieving greaser across the line into Yavapai,&rdquo; said
-      a local luminary, &ldquo;and I'll find a jury that will hang him on sight or
-      lynch him on general principles.&rdquo; But Pedro knew better than to venture
-      northward along the tempting shores of the Hassayampa. Even the chance of
-      collecting a bad debt from a fellow countryman, known to be lurking in
-      Wickenburg, failed to lure Pedro thither. He smiled suggestively, showing
-      his white teeth and waving aside the blue smoke of his cigarrito with
-      sinewy brown hand. &ldquo;A&mdash;Wickenburg is too damn close to Yavapai, and
-      Yavapai to 'ell,&rdquo; he remarked. And it had more than once been said of
-      Pedro that he spoke English like a native.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Rancho Ruiz&rdquo; was the sonorous and pretentious title he had bestowed upon
-      the establishment to which the winding Arizona roadway led. &ldquo;Cutthroat
-      Crossing&rdquo; was what the soldiers and placer miners had called this half
-      ferry, half ford of Pedro's ever since the body of young Sergeant Dinsmore
-      had been found stranded on a sand bar of the Gila two miles below,' his
-      neck and his money belt slashed by the same knife. Going into Yuma with
-      well-lined pockets, Dinsmore had been warned to make no stay among the
-      gang of monte players always hovering about Pedro's. But he had been a
-      bold and successful gambler at Tucson. He had nothing but contempt for
-      Mexican bravos and confidence in his own prowess as a shot. The card table
-      had attractions he could not well resist, but the ranch had still another&mdash;Pedro's
-      daughter.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Now it was when he was sent thither with a squad of a dozen troopers,
-      hunting up the missing sergeant, that Lieutenant Adriance caught sight of
-      this siren of a senorita. She could not have been more than seventeen, and
-      her mother would have denied her even that number of years. &ldquo;She is a mere
-      child,&rdquo; protested Senora Dolores, when the subject was mentioned. Pedro
-      had moved up from Sonora only a few years before, and had lived a while at
-      the old Mexico-Spanish town of Tucson, whither, ere long, there came
-      unflattering tales as to the cause of his change of residence. He had
-      money, and that in Arizona covered more sins than charity. The boundary
-      line lay conveniently near. Extradition was an unpracticed art in the days
-      whereof we write. Apaches of the mountains and assassins of the mines
-      found equal refuge across the border, and in exchange we received such
-      choice spirits as proved too tough for even a Mexican town to tolerate. Of
-      such was Pedro; but no one to look at Pedro's daughter would have called
-      her a felon's child.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The night that Adriance reached the rancho on the search just mentioned he
-      had purposely left his little escort some distance up the Gila, and
-      advanced alone to reconnoitre. It was a perfectly still evening, soft and
-      starry. The hoofs of his broncho made no sound upon the sandy waste of
-      road, and not even the dogs about the corral seemed aware of his coming.
-      Adriance had thrice visited the ranch before, when returning from scout or
-      pursuit of Apaches, and never once had he been greeted by feminine voice
-      about the premises. It was with no little surprise, then, that he heard
-      the tinkle of a guitar and the sound of low, soft, girlish tones singing a
-      plaintive melody. He had heard many a Mexican ditty, and had pronounced
-      the singers twangy, shrill and nasal; but this was different. He had come
-      to Rancho Ruiz with every expectation of finding evidence of the murder of
-      one of his most valued troopers, and here, on the instant of his arrival,
-      was disarmed by a song. East of the ranch there stood a little
-      lattice-work structure, something after the manner of a summer house, and
-      from thence the sounds proceeded. The lieutenant leaped from his horse and
-      strode to the entrance, wondering what manner of woman he should find
-      beyond. There was not light enough to distinguish either form or feature,
-      but over in the farther corner was a shadowy something in white. The song
-      continued but a moment before the singer became aware of the equally
-      shadowy form at the entrance, and stopped abruptly.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Leon!&rdquo; spoke a girlish voice in the Spanish tongue, &ldquo;you frightened me.
-      Is that you?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I am Felipe, otherwise Phil. Adriance, of the American Cavalry, senorita,
-      and far more surprised than you are at seeing me.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The girl started to her feet as though flight was her first impulse, then
-      hesitated. Did not the &ldquo;Senor Teniente&rdquo; bar the way in merely standing in
-      the entrance?
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Do not be alarmed, I beg of you,&rdquo; implored the young officer, &ldquo;it is so
-      long since I have heard a song in a woman's voice. It is such a surprise
-      to hear one now. Do sing for me again. I will have to stand here where I
-      can hold my horse.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      For a moment she was silent, then: &ldquo;You have been to the rancho? You have
-      seen my father?&rdquo; she asked at length, her voice tremulous and almost
-      inaudible.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I? No, I have just come; I am alone, and heard your song and forgot
-      everything else.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      To his surprise she came hurriedly forward out of the dusk, and stood
-      close to his side, looking fearfully over toward the night lights at the
-      bar, whence the sounds of Mexican voices could be heard.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Alone? You came here alone? O senor, ride on or ride back. Stay not here!
-      Not at the rancho! There are wicked men&mdash;not my father; not Pedro
-      Ruiz, but&mdash;there are others.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Is this true? Are you Pedro's daughter?&rdquo; queried the lieutenant,
-      evidently far more impressed with this fact than with her tidings. &ldquo;I
-      never knew he had a child like you, and I have been here often and have
-      never seen you.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;But I&mdash;have seen you, senor, when you were last here, and I saw you,
-      too, at the <i>cuartel</i> at Tucson. Do you know&mdash;do you remember
-      the day of the race?&rdquo; And her dark eyes were for one instant lifted
-      timidly to his.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Is this possible?&rdquo; he exclaimed, seizing her hand as it fell listlessly
-      by her side. &ldquo;Let me see your face. Surely I have heard your voice
-      before.&rdquo; But she shrank back, half timid, half capricious.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I must not; I must go, senor, and you&mdash;you must ride away.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      And now her eyes glanced half fearfully toward the house, then sought his
-      face in genuine anxiety. He had been fumbling in the pocket of his hunting
-      shirt, and suddenly drew forth a little silver case. The next instant,
-      while he held her wrist firmly with one hand, the brilliant flame of an
-      electric match flashed over her face and form.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0027.jpg" alt="0027 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0027.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh, senor,&rdquo; she cried, even when bowing her blushing face upon her bared
-      arm, &ldquo;this is madness! Put it out!&rdquo; Then, like a frightened deer, she went
-      bounding to the ranch, but not before he had recognized in her the pretty
-      Mexican girl with whom he had thrice danced at the <i>festa</i> at Tucson
-      and whose name he had vainly sought to learn. Nor did he again see her on
-      this visit. Nor did he hear again her voice. Returning with his men at
-      dawn, he began the day's investigations and had occasion to ask many
-      questions of old Pedro, who promptly answered that he well remembered the
-      sergeant and that the sergeant had drunk at his bar; had partaken of his
-      cheer; had stabled his horse at the corral; but that, after gambling with
-      &ldquo;los otros,&rdquo; men of whom he, Pedro, knew naught, the sergeant had gone on
-      his way. More he could not tell. He shrugged his shoulders and protested
-      his ignorance even of the names of the men with whom Dinsmore had gambled.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You enter my house, Senor Teniente. You ask for food, for drink. You pay.
-      You go. Ask I you your name&mdash;your home? No! Should I demand it of any
-      caballero who so come and go?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      And failing in extracting information from the master, Adriance sought the
-      hirelings and found them equally reticent. Shrewd frontiersmen and
-      campaigners in his little detachment were equally unsuccessful until
-      nearly night, when a brace of prospectors rode in and said they saw what
-      looked to be a human body over on a sand bar down the Gila. Then Pedro's
-      face had turned ashen gray, and one of his henchmen trembled violently.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Poor Dinsmore was given such soldier burial as his comrades could devise,
-      and Pedro, of his own accord, and with much reverential gravity of mien,
-      had graced the ceremony with his presence.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Every man of the cavalry detachment felt morally certain that Pedro Ruiz
-      knew far more than he would tell, but there was no way in which they could
-      proceed farther, and civil process was ineffectual in those days except in
-      the court of final jurisdiction of which Judge Lynch was sole presiding
-      officer.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Adriance rode away with a distinct sense of discomfiture at heart. What
-      business had he to feel baffled and chagrined at his failure to see that
-      girl again when the original object of his mission had been the discovery
-      of Dinsmore's fate? What right had he to wish to speak with the daughter
-      of the man whom he believed an accessory to the sergeant's murder? &ldquo;Do not
-      let them know you have seen me&rdquo; she had whispered ere she scurried away to
-      the ranch, and as neither mother nor daughter once appeared during the
-      presence of his escort about the corral, there seemed no way in which he
-      could open the subject.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Six months passed, during which period he had been sent to Tucson on
-      escort duty, and while there had sought and found some well-to-do Mexican
-      residents whom he remembered as being friends of the graceful girl who had
-      danced so delightfully with him at the <i>baile</i> only the year before.
-      From them he learned her name, Isabel, and something of her history. And
-      the very next scout down the Gila found him in command and eager to go,
-      and this very night, black and forbidding, that had settled down on Rancho
-      Ruiz after the arrival of Paymaster Sherrick and his train, who should
-      come riding noiselessly through the gloaming but Lieutenant Adriance
-      himself, as before, all alone.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Nearing the lights of the rancho and moving at slow and cautious walk, his
-      ears alert for every sound, the lieutenant became aware of the fact that
-      Roderick, his pet horse, was pricking up his own ears and showing vast
-      interest in some mysterious and unseen presence which they were steadily
-      approaching. Before he had got within two hundred yards of the dim light
-      of the house he caught sight of a lantern or two flitting about the
-      corral. Then Roderick quickened his nimble walk and began edging off to
-      the right front, where presently, against the low western sky, Adriance
-      could distinguish some object like a big covered wagon, and plainly heard
-      the pawing and snorting of a horse. Roderick evidently wanted to answer,
-      but the lieutenant reined him abruptly to the left, and veered away
-      southward.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Just now it was not the society of his fellow men he sought. A woman's
-      voice, one woman's at least, would have called him eagerly forward from
-      the darkness into the light of her waiting eyes. As it was, he made wide
-      circuit, and not until well to the south did he again approach the silent
-      walls of the corral. And now the wind, blowing toward him, brought with it
-      the sound of voices, and Adriance was suddenly warned that someone was
-      here, close at hand. Dismounting, the lieutenant slowly led his horse
-      toward the dark barrier before him, but not until he had softly traversed
-      the length of the southern wall did he become aware of other voices, low
-      toned and eager. Around the corner, on the western side, the dark forms of
-      a horseman and someone afoot were dimly defined, then a brief conversation
-      became audible:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0008" id="linkimage-0008"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0031.jpg" alt="0031 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0031.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0009" id="linkimage-0009"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0019.jpg" alt="0019 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0019.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You have no time to lose, Leon. Go softly until you are a mile away, then
-      ride like hell.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I understand, but the money?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;That shall be yours to-morrow&mdash;now skip.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The jingle of a Mexican spur, the soft thud of mustang hoofs upon the
-      yielding soil were heard a moment, and the horseman rode slowly away
-      southwestward, the broad stiff brim of his sombrero revealed against the
-      starry sky; then all was silence. The American, whoever he was, still
-      stood there. Adriance felt sure he had heard the voice before. As for the
-      horseman&mdash;Leon&mdash;that was the name he heard her speak the night
-      he surprised her in the little summer house. Who was Leon?
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0010" id="linkimage-0010"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0035.jpg" alt="0035 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0035.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      Presently the American turned and strolled slowly back toward the rancho.
-      Slipping Roderick's rein over the post at the angle, the lieutenant
-      followed. Keeping close to the wall, the stranger led the way, all
-      unconscious of pursuit or observation, yet when he reached the next
-      corner, whence could be seen the night lights of the rancho and the
-      far-away gleam of the camp fire, out toward the Gila, he stopped and
-      peered cautiously around.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Mindful of the evil fame that hung about the premises, Adriance halted too
-      and waited. The next moment his heart beat hard. A woman's voice&mdash;soft,
-      silvery and young&mdash;had accosted the stranger. It was Isabel's.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You have sent my brother away again, when he had but just returned. Why
-      is this, senor? Whither has he gone?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Never mind about Leon, Belita,&rdquo; said the American, soothingly, &ldquo;he's all
-      right. He has simply ridden over to let Captain Rawlins know of our
-      mishap.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;It is not true, senor! I heard him speak to my father. It is to Sancho
-      and to Manuel he rides, and for no good. To what new crime do you lead
-      him? Why are they all gone? Why are we alone here this night? Why&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Don't be a fool, girl,&rdquo; said the man curtly, as he took her by the wrist.
-      &ldquo;Come, Leon's gone. Come back to the house.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;He has not gone. He promised me he would not go from me without a word
-      to-night. The moment I saw you I knew that trouble would come, and I
-      warned him when he returned. You have made him wicked&mdash;you
-      Americanos. You are all&mdash;&mdash;'
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh, yes, all, even Teniente Adriance, Isabel. I heard all about you and
-      your affair with him. Have a care!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;No. He is good. It is not in him to make a gambler and a rover of my
-      brother.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;He would make worse of your brother's sister, you fool,&rdquo; the man
-      muttered, with brutal emphasis. &ldquo;Come now, no nonsense with that fellow;
-      he's as good as married already, I tell you; he is to be married in two
-      months.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh, it is not true!&rdquo; was the fiery answer. &ldquo;You lie!&rdquo; And then, with
-      feminine inconsequence, &ldquo;Who is she? Who does he marry?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;The Senorita Abert&mdash;a lovely girl, too, and rich&mdash;in San
-      Francisco.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yes, it is a lie, Staines, and you know it!&rdquo; came in cool and measured
-      tones, and Mr. Adriance suddenly stepped from the corner of the wall.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Staines dropped the captive's hand and recoiled a pace or two with a
-      stifled exclamation, half amaze, half dismay; then with sudden effort
-      strove to recover himself. &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he exclaimed, with a nervous laugh;
-      &ldquo;talk of angels and you hear the rustle, etc. Indeed, lieutenant, I beg
-      your pardon, though; I was merely joking with our little Mexican friend.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;That will do, Mr. Staines; I know a joke when I hear one. Wait here a
-      moment, if you please, for I want a word with you. Pardon me for startling
-      you, senorita. Will you take my arm?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The girl was trembling violently. With bowed head and fluttering heart she
-      leaned upon the trooper's arm and was slowly led away toward the rancho,
-      never seeming to note that the little brown hand that had been so firmly
-      taken and drawn within by his was still tightly clasped by that cavalry
-      gauntlet. The moment they were out of the earshot of Staines the
-      lieutenant bent down.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;It was to see you I came here, Isabel; I had hoped to find you at the
-      summer house. Come to me there in ten minutes, will you? I must see you
-      before I go. First, though, I have to investigate that fellow Staines.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh, I cannot! I dare not! I slipped away from my room because of Leon.
-      They will lead him into trouble again. Indeed, I must go back. I must go,
-      Senor Felipe.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You remember my name, then, little one!&rdquo; he laughed, delightedly. &ldquo;I have
-      been to Tucson since I saw you that blessed night, and I heard all about
-      you.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Hush, senor! It is my mother who calls. List! Let me go, sefior!&rdquo; for his
-      arm had suddenly stolen about her waist. &ldquo;Promise you will come&mdash;promise!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I dare not! O Felipe, no!&rdquo; she cried, for he had with quick impulse
-      folded her tightly in his strong embrace and his lips were seeking hers.
-      Struggling to avoid them she had hidden her face upon his breast.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Promise&mdash;quick!&rdquo; he whispered.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Ah, if I can&mdash;yes. Now let me go.&rdquo; His firm hand turned her glowing
-      face to his; his eager lips pressed one lingering kiss just at the corner
-      of her pretty mouth. She hurled herself from him then and bounded into the
-      darkness. An instant more and he heard the latch of the rear door click; a
-      stream of light shot out toward the corral and she was gone. Then slowly
-      he returned to the corner of the wall, fully expecting that Staines had
-      left. To his surprise, there was the clerk composedly awaiting him.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Where have you sent Leon Ruiz?&rdquo; was the stern question.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I do not recognize your right to speak to me in that tone, Mr. Adriance.
-      If you have nothing else to ask me&mdash;good night!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;By God, sir! I heard your whispered talk with him and I know there is
-      mischief afoot,&rdquo; said the lieutenant, as he strode after the retreating
-      form. &ldquo;This thing has got to be explained, and in the major's presence.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Staines halted, and lifting his hat with Castilian grace of manner bowed
-      profoundly to the angry officer. &ldquo;Permit me, sir, to conduct you to him.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      An hour later, baffled, puzzled, balked in his precious hopes, Mr.
-      Adriance returned to the bivouac of his little command. Major Sherrick had
-      promptly and fully confirmed the statement of his clerk. It was he who
-      told Mr. Staines to employ a ranchman to ride by night to Captain Rawlins,
-      and the mysterious caution that surrounded the proceedings was explained
-      by the fact that Pedro had refused his permission and that Leon had to be
-      bribed to disobey the paternal order. Adriance was dissatisfied and
-      suspicious, but what was there left for him to say?
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Then he had hastened to the summer house, and waited a whole hour, but
-      there came no Isabel. It was nearly 10 o'clock when he turned his horse
-      over to the care of the guard in a little clump of cottonwoods near the
-      Gila.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;We remain here to-morrow,&rdquo; he briefly told the sergeant. &ldquo;No need to wake
-      the men before 6.&rdquo; With that he went to the little wall tent, pitched for
-      his use some yards away.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      How long he slumbered Adriance could not tell. Ill at ease as to the
-      strange conduct of Staines, he had not slept well. Conscience, too, was
-      smiting him. Something in the tones of that girlish voice thrilled and
-      quivered through his memory. What right had he even to ask her to meet
-      him? What wrong had he not wrought in that one kiss?
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Somebody was fumbling at the fastening of the tent flap.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What is wanted, sergeant?&rdquo; he quickly hailed.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Open, quick!&rdquo; was the low-toned answer. &ldquo;Come to the door. No, no, bring
-      no light,&rdquo; was the breathless caution, as he struck a match.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Who is this?&rdquo; he demanded, with strange thrill at heart&mdash;something
-      in those tones he well knew&mdash;yet it could not be. A dim figure in
-      shrouding <i>serape</i> was crouching at the front tent pole as he threw
-      open the flap.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Good God! Isabel!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Si&mdash;&mdash; Yes. Hush, senor, no one must hear, no one must know
-      'twas I. Quick! Wake your men! Saddle! Ride hard till you catch the
-      paymaster! Never leave him till you are beyond Canyon del Muerto, and then
-      never come to the rancho again&mdash;never!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0011" id="linkimage-0011"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:15%;">
-      <img src="images/5039.jpg" alt="5039 " width="100%" /><br /><a
-      href="images/5039.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </div>
-    <h3>
-      SECOND CHAPTER
-    </h3>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0012" id="linkimage-0012"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0040.jpg" alt="0040 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0040.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0013" id="linkimage-0013"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="figleft" style="width:20%;">
-      <img src="images/9040.jpg" alt="9040 " width="100%" /><br /><a
-      href="images/9040.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </div>
-    <p>
-      HAT off mule of the paymaster's ambulance been a quadruped of wonderful
-      recuperative powers. She had gone nearly dead lame all the previous day,
-      and now at 5 o'clock on this breezy morning was trotting along as though
-      she had never known a twinge in her life. Mr. Staines was apparently
-      nonplussed. Acting on his advice, the paymaster had decided to break camp
-      soon after 2 o'clock, make coffee, and then start for Rawlins' camp at
-      once. He confidently expected to have to drag along at a slow walk, and
-      his idea was to get well through the Canyon del Muerto before the heat of
-      the day. The unexpected recovery of Jenny, however, enabled them to go
-      bowling ahead over the level flat, and at sunrise they were already in
-      sight of the northern entrance to the gorge. It was odd how early Mr.
-      Staines began to develop lively interest in the condition of that mule.
-      First he suggested to the driver that he was going too fast, and would
-      bring on that lameness again; but the driver replied that it was Jenny
-      herself who was doing most of the pulling. Then Staines became fearful
-      lest the cavalry escort should get exhausted by such steady trotting, and
-      ventured to say to Major Sherrick that they ought to rein up on their
-      account. Sherrick was eager to push ahead, and, like most other men not to
-      the manner born, never for a moment thought of such a thing as a horse's
-      getting used up by simply carrying a man-at-arms six hours at ceaseless
-      trot or lope. However, he knew that Staines was far more experienced in
-      such matters than he, and so could not disregard his advice.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0014" id="linkimage-0014"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="figright" style="width:20%;">
-      <img src="images/8041.jpg" alt="8041 " width="100%" /><br /><a
-      href="images/8041.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </div>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;How is it, sergeant, are we going too fast for you?&rdquo; he asked.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Not a bit of it, sir,&rdquo; was the cheery answer.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;We're glad enough to go lively now and rest all day in the shade.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You see how it is, Staines; they don't want to slack up speed. We'll get
-      to Rawlins' in time for breakfast at this rate,&rdquo; and again Staines was
-      silent. Presently the team began the ascent of a rolling wave of foothill,
-      around which the roadway twisted as only Arizona roadways can, and at the
-      crest the driver reined in to give his mules a &ldquo;breather.&rdquo; Staines leaped
-      from the ambulance for a stretch. The troopers promptly dismounted and
-      loosened saddle girths.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yonder is the mouth of the Canyon, sir,&rdquo; said the sergeant, pointing to a
-      rift in the range to the south, now gorgeously lighted up by the morning
-      sunshine.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;How long is the defile, sergeant?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Not more than four miles, sir&mdash;that is, the Canyon itself&mdash;but
-      it is crooked as a ram's horn, and the approach on the other side is a
-      long, winding valley.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;When were you there last?&rdquo; asked Staines.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;About six months ago, just after Dins-more was murdered.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Staines turned quickly away and strolled back a few yards along the road.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You knew Dinsmore, then?&rdquo; asked the paymaster.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I knew him well, sir. We had served together during the war. They said he
-      fell in love with a pretty Mexican girl at Tucson, and she would not
-      listen to him. Some of the men heard that she was a daughter of old Pedro
-      who keeps that ranch, and that it was hoping to see her that he went
-      there.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I know. I remember hearing about it all then,&rdquo; said the paymaster. &ldquo;Did
-      you ever see anything of the man who was said to have killed him?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Sonora Bill? No, sir; and I don't know anyone who ever did. He was always
-      spoken of as the chief of a gang of cutthroats and stage robbers down
-      around Tucson. They used to masquerade as Apaches sometimes&mdash;that's
-      the way they were never caught. The time they robbed Colonel Wood and
-      killed his clerk 'I' troop was scouting not ten miles away, and blessed if
-      some of the very gang didn't gallop to Lieutenant Breese and swear the
-      Apaches had attacked their camp here in Canyon del Muerto, so that when
-      the lieutenant was wanted to chase the thieves his troop couldn't be found
-      anywhere&mdash;he was 'way up here hunting for Apaches in the Maricopa
-      range. The queer thing about that gang was that they always knew just when
-      a paymaster's outfit or a Government officer with funds would be along. It
-      was those fellows that robbed Major Rounds, the quartermaster, and jumped
-      the stage when Lieutenant Spaulding and his wife were aboard. She had
-      beautiful diamonds that they were after, but the lieutenant fooled them&mdash;he
-      had them sent by express two days afterward.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Mr. Staines came back toward the ambulance at this moment, took a field
-      glass from its case, and retraced his steps along the road some twenty
-      yards. Here he adjusted the glass and looked long toward the northeast.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;All ready to start, sir,&rdquo; said the driver.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The major swung himself up to his seat; the troopers quietly &ldquo;sinched&rdquo;
-       their saddles and mounted, and still the clerk stood there absorbed.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Come, Staines!&rdquo; shouted the paymaster, impatiently, &ldquo;we're waiting for
-      you.&rdquo; And still he did not move. The sergeant whirled his horse about and
-      clattered back to where he stood.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Come, sir, the major's waiting.&rdquo; Staines turned abruptly and, silent as
-      ever, hurried to the wagon.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What were you staring at so long?&rdquo; said the paymaster, pettishly, as his
-      assistant clambered in. &ldquo;I shouted two or three times.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Staines' face was pale, yet there were drops of sweat upon his brow.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I thought I saw a party of horsemen out there on the flats.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;The devil!&rdquo; said the paymaster, with sudden interest. &ldquo;Where? Let me
-      look.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You can't see now, sir. Even the dust cloud is gone. They are behind that
-      low ridge some eight or ten miles out there in the valley.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Go on, driver, it's only cattle from the ranch or something of that kind.
-      I didn't know, by the way you looked and spoke, but that it might be some
-      of Sonora Bill's gang.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Hardly, sir; they haven't been heard of for a year, and once away from
-      Pedro's we are safe enough anyhow.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Half an hour later the four-mule team was winding slowly up a rocky path.
-      On both sides the heights were steep, covered with a thick undergrowth of
-      scrub oak and juniper. Here and there rocky cliffs jutted out from the
-      hillside and stood like sentinels along the way. The sergeant, with one
-      trooper, rode some distance ahead, their carbines &ldquo;advanced&rdquo; and ready for
-      use, for Edwards was an old campaigner, and, though he thought it far from
-      probable that any outlaws would be fools enough to attempt to &ldquo;get away
-      with&rdquo; a paymaster's bank when he and his five men were the guardians and
-      Captain Rawlins with his whole troop was but a short distance away, he had
-      learned the lesson of precaution. Major Sherrick, with his iron safe under
-      his own seat, grasped a rifle in both hands. The driver was whistling
-      softly to himself and glancing attentively ahead, for there was a
-      continuous outcrop of boulders all along the road. The remaining troopers,
-      four in number, rode close behind or alongside the wagon.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Presently they reached a point where, after turning a precipitous ledge of
-      rock, glistening in the morning sunshine, they saw before them a somewhat
-      steep incline. Here, without a word, Staines swung lightly from the
-      vehicle and trudged for a moment alongside; then he stooped to adjust his
-      boot lace, and when Sherrick looked back the clerk was coming jauntily
-      after them, only a dozen paces in rear. In this order they pushed ahead
-      perhaps a hundred yards farther, moving slowly up the defile, and Staines
-      could easily have regained his distance, but for some reason failed to do
-      so. Suddenly, and for no apparent cause, Jenny and her mate shied
-      violently, swerved completely around and were tangled up with the wheel
-      team before the driver could use the lash. Even his ready blasphemy failed
-      to straighten things out.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Look out for those rocks up there on the right!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;Grab their
-      heads, Billy!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Even as he spoke the rocky walls of the Canyon resounded with the crash of
-      a score of firearms. The driver, with a convulsive gasp, toppled forward
-      out of his seat, his hand still clinching the reins. One of the troopers
-      clapped his hand to his forehead, his reins falling useless upon his
-      horse's neck, and reeled in the saddle as his charger whirled about and
-      rushed, snorting with fright, down the narrow road. At the instant of the
-      firing the sound of a dozen &ldquo;spats&rdquo; told where the leaden missiles had
-      torn through the stiff canvas cover of the ambulance; and Sherrick, with
-      blanched face, leaped from the riddled vehicle and plunged heavily forward
-      upon his hands and knees. Two of the troopers sprang from their saddles,
-      and, crouching behind a boulder across the road, opened fire up the
-      opposite hillside. The sergeant and his comrade, bending low over their
-      horses' necks, came thundering back down the Canyon, just in time to see
-      the mules whirl about so suddenly as to throw the ambulance on its side.
-      The iron safe was hurled into the shallow ditch; the wagon bed dragged
-      across the prostrate form of the paymaster, rolling him over and over half
-      a dozen times, and then, with a wreck of canvas, splinters, chains and
-      traces clattering at their heels, the four mules went rattling away down
-      the gorge.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0015" id="linkimage-0015"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0047.jpg" alt="0047 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0047.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Jump for shelter, men!&rdquo; shouted Sergeant Edwards, as he dragged the
-      senseless form of the major under the great ledge to the right. &ldquo;Stand
-      them off as long as you can! Come out of your holes, you cowardly hounds!&rdquo;
-       he roared, shaking his fist at the smoke-wreathed rocks up the heights.
-      &ldquo;Come out and fight fair! There's only five of us left!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Here in the road lay the major, bleeding from cuts and bruises, with every
-      breath knocked out of his battered body; yonder, his hands 'clinched in
-      the death agony, the stiffening form of the driver&mdash;plucky to the
-      last. Twenty yards away down the road, all in a heap, lay one poor soldier
-      shot through the head, and now past praying for. One of the others was
-      bleeding from a gash along the cheek where a bullet had zipped its way,
-      and Edwards shouted in vain for Staines to join them; the clerk had
-      disappeared. For full five minutes the desperate combat was maintained;
-      the sergeant and his little squad crouching behind the nearest rocks and
-      firing whenever head or sombrero showed itself along the heights. Then
-      came shots from the rear, and another poor fellow was laid low, and
-      Edwards realized, to his despair, that the bandits were on every side, and
-      the result only a question of time.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      And then&mdash;then, there came a thunder of hoof beats, a storm of
-      ringing cheers, a rush and whirl of panting, foaming steeds and a score of
-      sunburnt, stalwart troopers racing in the lead of a tall young soldier,
-      whose voice rang clear above the tumult: &ldquo;Dismount! Up the rocks, men!
-      Lively now!&rdquo; And, springing from his own steed, leaping catlike from rock
-      to rock, Phil Adriance went tearing up the heights, his soldiers at his
-      heels. Edwards and his unwounded men seized and held the trembling horses;
-      Sherrick feebly crawled to his precious safe and fell across it, his arms
-      clasping about his iron charge. For five minutes more there was a clamor
-      of shots and shouts, once in a while a wild Mexican shriek for mercy, all
-      the tumult gradually receding in the distance, and at last&mdash;silence.
-      Then two men came down the bluffs, half bearing between them the limp form
-      of their young leader. The lieutenant was shot through both thighs and was
-      faint from loss of blood.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Has no one a little whiskey?&rdquo; asked Corporal Watts.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Here you are&rdquo; was the answer. And Mr. Staines, with very white face,
-      stepped down from behind the ledge and held out his flask.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      A week later the lieutenant lay convalescing at Rawlins' camp. A vigorous
-      constitution and the healthful, bracing, open-air life he had led for
-      several years, either in the saddle or tramping over the mountains, had
-      enabled him to triumph speedily over such minor ills as flesh wounds, even
-      though the loss of blood had been very great. The young soldier was soon
-      able to give full particulars of his chase, and to one man alone, Rawlins,
-      the secret of its inspiration.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Most important had been the results. It was evident to everyone who
-      examined the ground&mdash;and Rawlins had scoured the range with one
-      platoon of his troop that very afternoon after the fight, while his
-      lieutenant, Mr. Lane, was chasing the fugitives with another&mdash;that a
-      band of at least twenty outlaws had been concealed among the rocks of
-      Canyon del Muerto for two or three days, evidently for the purpose of
-      waylaying the escort of the paymaster when he came along. Their horses had
-      been concealed half a mile away in a deep ravine, and it was in trying to
-      escape to them that they had sustained their losses. Five of their number
-      were shot down in full flight by Adri-ance's men, and, could they have
-      caught the others, no quarter would have been given, for the men were
-      infuriated by the sight of the havoc the robbers had wrought, and by the
-      shooting of their favorite officer.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0016" id="linkimage-0016"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0052.jpg" alt="0052 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0052.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      No papers had been found on the bodies; nothing, in fact, to identify them
-      with any band. All, with one exception, were Mexicans; he was a white man
-      whom none of the troopers could identify, though Corporal Watts, of Troop
-      B, declared he had seen him at &ldquo;Cutthroat Crossing&rdquo; the last time he went
-      through there on escort duty. The others, whoever they were, rode in a
-      body until they got around the range to the southward, then seemed to
-      scatter over the face of the earth. Some odd things had transpired, over
-      which Rawlins pondered not a little. It was Corporal Watts who brought to
-      his camp at 11 o'clock the news of the desperate attempt to murder and rob
-      the paymaster, and as they rode back together the corporal gave the
-      captain such information as lay in his power. Lieutenant Adriance had
-      &ldquo;routed out&rdquo; the detachment just at daybreak, when it was still dark, and
-      saddling with the utmost haste had led away across country for the canyon,
-      leaving the pack mules and a small guard at camp. &ldquo;We rode like the wind,&rdquo;
-       said Watts, &ldquo;after the first few miles, and every man seemed to know just
-      what to expect when at last we struck the road and saw the trail of the
-      ambulance and escort. We got there just in the nick of time.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      When Sherrick&mdash;who though severely battered and bruised had no bones
-      broken&mdash;was able to talk at all, he never could say enough in praise
-      of Adriance and his men; but what he wanted to know was how they came to
-      learn of the threatened danger. Captain Rawlins protested that it was
-      &ldquo;past finding out.&rdquo; The major questioned the men, but without success, and
-      as for Staines, it was remarked that his pertinacity in cross-examination
-      was simply wonderful. For some reason, however, the men of B troop did not
-      like the fellow and would have little to do with him. But up to the time
-      that Major Sherrick was able to push ahead for Tucson it is certain that
-      he had discovered nothing as to the source of the lieutenant's
-      information; neither had they heard of Leon Ruiz, the night messenger.
-      Staines opined that he must have been intercepted by the bandits, perhaps
-      killed by them, when it was found that he was the bearer of a message to
-      Captain Rawlins. After a brief chat with the lieutenant himself, one which
-      the doctor did not interdict, the old troop commander sent a trusty
-      sergeant with six men to scout the neighborhood of the rancho.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Lieutenant Lane was detached to take command of Adriance's troop, which
-      was sent on its way forthwith, leaving the gloomy rancho alone to sentinel
-      the Gila crossing. But the moment Sherrick and his silent clerk drove on
-      toward Tucson the old captain said a few words of farewell to the invalid,
-      left him in the doctor's charge and rode away northward on the trail of
-      his sergeant. That night he rapped for admission and ordered supper at
-      Rancho Ruiz, while his men, strolling about the premises, took careful
-      note of the three or four scowling &ldquo;greasers&rdquo; who infested the corral.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Adriance was sitting up and beginning to hobble around when Rawlins
-      returned to camp during the week that followed, and was all eagerness to
-      hear what tidings the captain had to tell. But Rawlins had little to say;
-      he had seen Pedro and had had one glimpse of Senora Dolores, but not so
-      much as a word with the senorita; she was kept carefully concealed. Within
-      the month Adriance was quite well enough to travel to his station, but
-      refused. He would remain here, he said, until able to relieve Lane of the
-      command of his troop and continue the scouting work. He did not wish to go
-      to the fort. Sherrick and his clerk had come back in the course of a
-      fortnight, and Mr. Staines asked to see Lieutenant Adriance, but that
-      gentleman refused&mdash;a matter which caused the clerk to &ldquo;bite his lips
-      and look queer,&rdquo; reported the soldier who took the message, but he said
-      nothing at all.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Ten days afterward a Prescott paper mentioned the fact that Mr. Albert G.
-      Staines, so long and favorably known in this Territory, had dropped in to
-      look over valuable mining properties in the Big Bug and Hassayampa
-      districts; and this Rawlins silently showed to Adriance.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Then you may be sure he'll come down to the rancho, and in less than no
-      time,&rdquo; said Adriance, &ldquo;and I must go.&rdquo; Rawlins made no reply at first,
-      then he rose and nervously paced the floor a moment and turned upon his
-      junior.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Philip, I say no!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The color mounted to the lieutenant's
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Ask yourself; ask your conscience, Adriance. You have told her that he,
-      Staines, was a liar. You have virtually told her that you were engaged to
-      no woman. You have inspired a sentiment, perhaps a passion, in that young
-      girl's heart, and you're going there to defend her&mdash;a thing that I
-      can do much better than you, now that you are a cripple. Then, think, my
-      boy, I have known you six years; I have never known you to say or do a
-      mean or unmanly thing. I'm an old fogy&mdash;an old fool perhaps&mdash;but
-      I like to think most women pure and some men honest. You are one of them,
-      Phil.&rdquo; There was a moment's silence.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;And yet you think I mean her harm.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Not yet, Philip, but would you marry that old scoundrel's daughter?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Adriance had no answer.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Philip, if you look into that girl's eyes again, unless it be to ask her
-      to be your wife, I shall lose my faith in manly honor.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Two days afterward Rawlins rode away on duty. A strange unrest had
-      possessed the lieutenant since that brief talk with this old Puritan of a
-      captain. Not another word had been said upon the subject, but every
-      syllable that Rawlins spoke had struck home. Adriance respected and
-      honored the grim, duty-loving troop commander whom some of the youngsters
-      openly laughed at and referred to as &ldquo;Praise the Lord Barebones&rdquo; and
-      &ldquo;Captain Roundhead,&rdquo; but the lieutenant well knew that no braver soldier,
-      no &ldquo;squar-er&rdquo; captain drew sabre in the whole regiment than this faithful
-      friend, who had long since singled him out for many an unusual kindness.
-      He knew more&mdash;that in his high standard of honor and rectitude old
-      Rawlins had said nothing which was not just and true.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Adriance knew well that he ought not to again seek that young girl's
-      presence, and the blood rushed hotly to his cheek as he recalled the kiss
-      his eager lips had stolen. Marry that old scoundrel's daughter? No, he
-      could not; and yet how his pulses bounded at the thought of her&mdash;the
-      sweet, shy gladness in her eyes, the soft, thrilling tones in her voice
-      when she spoke his name, the heroism of her conduct in daring to seek his
-      camp in the darkness of night and bring him warning of that diabolical
-      scheme of robbery and murder; the refinement of her manner, and then, too,
-      her knowledge of the English tongue. Where had she acquired these? What
-      would she not be justified in thinking of him if he never came to seek and
-      thank her?
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Hello! what's that?&rdquo; was the sudden cry among the men. Two or three
-      soldiers sat up in the shade and curiously inspected the coming object;
-      others shouted laughing challenge. Riding solemnly forward, a little
-      Mexican boy came straight to where Adriance was lying and handed him a
-      note which he eagerly opened and read:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <i>They suspect me, and they send me away tomorrow. To-night I go for the
-      last time to the summer house alone. Isabel.</i>
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Gone was every resolution at the instant; gone all hesitancy. Adriance had
-      not even time to wonder at the fact that she had written to him in
-      English. Leaving the note for Rawlins to read when he returned, in one
-      hour Phil was rolling from the camp in the ambulance. Soon after dark,
-      leaving Private Regan and another man half a mile back from the walls of
-      the corral, Mr. Adriance, all alone, slowly made his way afoot toward the
-      dim lights at the rancho. Making wide circuit so as not to alarm the dogs,
-      he never sought to draw near the little summer house until, from the east,
-      he could see the brighter lights that gleamed in the bar and card room.
-      Then he cautiously approached, his heart beating quickly and his knees
-      trembling a little, perhaps from weakness. Hark! Faint, soft and clear,
-      there rose upon the evening air the liquid notes of a guitar. It was she
-      then&mdash;it was Isabel awaiting his coming, aye, signaling softly to
-      call him to her. What could it mean but that she loved and longed to see
-      him? A moment more and he was at the doorway, the very spot where he had
-      surprised her that well-remembered night. The plaintive tinkle of the
-      guitar continued, and there in the dark corner was the dim, white-robed
-      form. He could almost distinguish the folds of the graceful <i>rebosa</i>.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Isabel!&rdquo; he whispered. Three more steps and he would be at her side.
-      Suddenly two stalwart arms were thrown about him, a broad hand was on his
-      mouth, stifling the utterance of a sound; the white-robed form in front
-      leaped toward him, the <i>rebosa</i> falling to the ground. It was a man's
-      voice&mdash;a Mexican's&mdash;that hissed the word's: &ldquo;Quick! the pistol.&rdquo;
-       Another hand was at his holster. He realized instantly that he was lured,
-      trapped; that his life was threatened. He was struggling violently, but,
-      weakened by his wound, even his superb physique was well nigh powerless in
-      the grasp of two or three men. Suddenly there came a whisper: &ldquo;The sponge,
-      the sponge!&rdquo; and then the subtle odor of chloroform on the night air. And
-      now he nerved himself for one supreme effort. A quick twist of his head
-      and the hand was dislodged, a finger slipping between his teeth. With all
-      his strength he crushed it to the very bone, and there was a yell of pain
-      and terror. Then his own brave young voice rang out in one startling,
-      rallying cry.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Help! Regan, help!&rdquo; Then crash and blows, the gleam of a knife, a
-      rolling, rough-and-tumble struggle on the ground; then a woman's scream, a
-      light, and Isabel had bounded into their midst, her mother at her back.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Leon, my brother! In God's name, what do you mean?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Even as she spoke her startled eyes fell on Adriance, staggering to his
-      feet, pale, bleeding, faint. Another instant and he went crashing back
-      against the guitar that, like siren's song, had lured him. One brave leap
-      and she was at his side, her arms about his neck, his pallid face pillowed
-      on her bosom.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Senora Dolores flew to her aid; then turning, holding her lantern on high,
-      her shrill voice rang out in fury:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Look at the monstrous work your son has wrought, Pedro Ruiz! Look! Tear
-      off that mantle, senor!&rdquo; she said, whirling upon another form now slowly
-      rising from the earth. &ldquo;Coward! murderer that you are! It is you who have
-      ruined this boy and made him what he is!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Hush! You fool! there lies your daughter's betrayer. Leon would have been
-      coward indeed if he had not punished him.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh, you lie! She never saw him alone in her life!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Ask your son,&rdquo; was the sneering answer. &ldquo;Ask José, too.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;She was with him&mdash;in his tent&mdash;the last night he was here; I
-      swear it!&rdquo; cried José.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Mother,&rdquo; cried the girl, &ldquo;listen, it was but to warn him&mdash;I heard
-      the plot&mdash;I heard all. I rushed to him only to tell him of the
-      danger. Mother, believe me. And I dare not tell it even to you, for fear&mdash;for
-      fear of him.&rdquo; And she pointed to the fierce, scowling face of the old
-      Mexican, now striding forward, knife in hand.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;No, Pedro&mdash;back! You shall not harm her! No!&rdquo; and the mother hurled
-      herself before her husband.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Out of the way!&rdquo; was the hissing answer, &ldquo;or you, too, feel my knife. Ah,
-      traitress!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;O my God! help! There will be murder here! Pedro, husband! O, villain,
-      she is not your child! You shall not kill!&rdquo; And then a piercing shriek
-      rang out upon the night. But at the same instant there came the rush of
-      hoofs without&mdash;a rush of panting men; a brawny trooper sprang into
-      the summer house and with one blow of his revolver butt sent Pedro
-      staggering into a corner, his knife falling from his nerveless hand. A
-      dark, agile figure leaped for the doorway, with muttered curse. And then
-      in came old Rawlins, somewhat &ldquo;blown,&rdquo; but preternaturally cool, and the
-      doctor close behind.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Bring another light here, one of you men!&rdquo; And a trooper ran to the card
-      room. &ldquo;Lie still there, Pedro! Blow his brains out if he moves! Doctor,
-      you look to the women and Adriance. Now, where's that man Staines?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Some fellow ran in through here, captain,&rdquo; said a trooper. &ldquo;Corporal
-      Watts is after him with Royce.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Who was it, you greaser? Speak, damn you! You were here with him!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Sonora Bill,&rdquo; said José, shaking from head to foot.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Then there came the sound of pistol shots out toward the corral, and then
-      the louder bang of a cavalry carbine.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo; asked Rawlins of a soldier who came running back.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0017" id="linkimage-0017"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0061.jpg" alt="0061 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0061.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Can we have the doctor, sir? It was Mr. Staines. He shot the corporal,
-      who was chasing him, but he got a carbine bullet through the heart.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Four days afterward, lying in a little white room, Mr. Adriance listened
-      to the story of Leon's confession. It was brief enough. Staines had
-      acquired an ascendency over him in Tucson, and it was not difficult to
-      induce him to become a confederate in every plot. It was Staines who sent
-      him to Manuel and Garcia to warn them that the paymaster's ambulance would
-      not reach Canyon del Muerto until morning. It was Staines who murdered
-      Sergeant Dinsmore after a quarrel and then had had his throat cut and the
-      body thrown into the Gila near the ranch. Staines had fallen in love with
-      Isabel when she first came from Sonora, but the girl shrank from him;
-      neither would she listen to Sergeant Dinsmore.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      After it was safe for Leon to return to the ranch, he found that his
-      mother and Isabel were practically prisoners. His father was furious at
-      the failure of the plan, and daily accused his wife of having, in some
-      way, given warning to Adriance, and swore that he would have the blood of
-      the man or woman who had betrayed the scheme; and then Staines himself
-      came back and wrung from José that he had seen Isabel scurrying from
-      Adri-ance's tent at daybreak, and so denounced her to Leon as the mistress
-      of an accursed Gringo. Staines wrote the note that was to lure Adriance to
-      the bower, where Leon was to take the guitar and <i>rebosa</i> and the
-      two, with José's help, were to overpower him. It was his life or theirs
-      said Staines. Pedro was not in the project, for he had prohibited
-      bloodshed about the place&mdash;&ldquo;It would ruin his business&rdquo; he said. But
-      both Pedro and Leon were now in irons, and Rawlins' troop was in camp
-      around gloomy old Rancho Ruiz.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0018" id="linkimage-0018"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0063.jpg" alt="0063 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0063.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      A day or two later he heard another story, this time from the lips of
-      Senora Dolores herself: Isabel was not the daughter of Pedro Ruiz.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      With sobs and tears the poor, broken woman told her tale. She had been
-      married when quite a young girl to Senor Moreno, an officer of distinction
-      in the Mexican army. Her brave husband made her life a happy one, and the
-      birth of the little daughter strengthened the ties that bound them. Alas!
-      Moreno, colonel of lancers, was killed before Queretaro; and in two years
-      more the widow, with her winsome little girl, had not where to lay her
-      head. It was in the city of Mexico that Senora Dolores then met Ruiz, a
-      widower with an only son, prosperous and apparently respected. He promised
-      to educate Isabel and provide for her as his own, and sought the widow as
-      his wife. For a time all went well; then she learned his true character.
-      He was compelled to leave the city and flee up the coast to Mazatlan,
-      while she remained with little Isabel, who was being educated at the
-      convent. At last they had to join him at Hermosillo, whence he was soon
-      after driven to Tucson. Their lives were wrecked by his scoundrelism. Her
-      papers clearly established the truth of her story.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      One soft, still evening, not a week after the tragic events of that rueful
-      night, Captain Rawlins sat by the lieutenant's side, reading aloud some
-      letters just received from department headquarters. Major Sherrick had
-      been in a state of dismay ever since the news of the death of Staines had
-      reached him, but his dismay changed to wonderment, even gratitude, as he
-      learned the true character of the man. It was Sonora Bill himself, beyond
-      doubt.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What a blessing you left that note for me to see!&rdquo; said Rawlins. &ldquo;How
-      came it you never saw it was a forgery, Phil? Had she never written to you
-      before?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Never a line, nor have I seen her to thank her. By Heaven, Rawlins! why
-      am I forbidden?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You are not&mdash;now, Phil,&rdquo; was the smiling answer.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Perhaps an hour later, Adriance limped slowly out of the room and down the
-      narrow passageway to the side door. Yonder stood the little summer house
-      &ldquo;in the gloaming,&rdquo; and he was right&mdash;he had heard women's voices
-      there&mdash;Dolores and her daughter. There were tears in the maiden's
-      words, and he could not withstand the longing of his heart. He would have
-      hobbled thither, but suddenly there came the sound of rustling skirt and a
-      tiny footfall. It was she&mdash;his dark-eyed, dark-haired sweetheart,
-      hastening toward him, her face hidden in her hands. One instant more and
-      he had torn the hands away and had clasped her to his breast.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Isabel! darling! I have found you at last! No, you shall not go&mdash;you
-      shall not until you promise&mdash;promise to be my wife!
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;O, senor, you cannot&mdash;you do not mean it,&rdquo; she sobbed, Struggling to
-      be free.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Do not mean it! Why, sweet one, you do not dream how I love you&mdash;how
-      I long for you! Not mean it? Isabel, look in my eyes. Look for yourself.&rdquo;
-       He laughed low and happily. He was brimming over with hope and gladness,
-      for now at last without a struggle she nestled on his heart.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Despite his grizzled beard old Rawlins was best man when that strange,
-      very quiet, yet very happy wedding came off in the Old Mission Church at
-      Tucson early in the spring. Pedro was not there to give the bride away.
-      With considerable escort and much reluctance he had traversed &ldquo;Cutthroat
-      Crossing&rdquo; some months before. He went to Yavapai, and Yavapai&mdash;we
-      have his own words for it&mdash;was &ldquo;too damn close to 'ell.&rdquo; The rancho
-      passed within the year to other hands. It, too, had taken on another name&mdash;a
-      grewsome one&mdash;<i>Rancho del Muerto</i>.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div style="height: 4em;">
-      <br /><br /><br /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h2>
-      A MIGHTY HUNTER BEFORE THE LORD, By Virginius Dabney.
-    </h2>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0019" id="linkimage-0019"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0066.jpg" alt="0066 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0066.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <h3>
-      FIRST PART
-    </h3>
-    <p class="pfirst">
-      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE man
-      unacquainted with the joys of the chase would be surprised if told, as he
-      sauntered through some city market, that there was far more pleasure in
-      hunting those plump little brown birds hanging in bunches around the
-      stalls than in pursuing that imposing beast whose antlers reach the
-      pavement. Yet it would be true.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Deer hunting under its usual conditions leaves something, often much, to
-      be desired. If a dozen men are placed on isolated &ldquo;stands&rdquo; the solitary
-      hours of waiting are long and weary. And should you happen to be a tyro
-      the knowing ones hide you away in some unlikely spot, where hardly by any
-      possibility will the chance come to you of seeing and, in the shivers of
-      &ldquo;buck ague,&rdquo; missing the game. &ldquo;Still hunting,&rdquo; another mode, is well
-      named. As a rule it may be depended upon to afford no end of stillness,
-      and little else. And to be rowed up by a hired guide on a lake to within a
-      few feet of a poor, helpless buck, swimming for dear life, and blow out
-      his brains is almost as bad as shooting pheasants in an English preserve
-      or poultry in a barnyard. Under all these methods deer hunting lacks what
-      is the conspicuous charm of partridge (quail) shooting&mdash;vivid and
-      continuous excitement.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      For, from the moment when you enter, on a sparkling autumn morning, a
-      brown stubble field, fresh of limb and eager for the fray, till you limp
-      back at sunset, wolfish for dinner, and broken with a delicious fatigue,
-      you have not had one dull moment. You may not have been firing steadily;
-      the birds may even have been a little scarce; but every instant of the
-      day, as you have watched your dogs sweeping to and fro, you have been
-      buoyed up by an ever lively hope that the next moment your heart will be
-      gladdened by seeing them halt&mdash;frozen as it were&mdash;in their
-      tracks. Ah, there they are! You hurry up, you and your friend, breathing
-      short. Up bursts the brown covey, with startling buzz! You bang away&mdash;innocuously
-      it may be, but no matter, you have made a prodigious noise, at any rate&mdash;that's
-      some comfort. And see now! The little brown balls have dropped into the
-      weeds, one here, one there, along the ditch, and a little bunch, all
-      together, in that clump of briars on the hillside. Better luck next time!
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Still, after all, &ldquo;Bob White,&rdquo; for all his bustle, is but a small chap. It
-      would take hundreds, nay, bushels of him, to outweigh one &ldquo;antlered
-      monarch.&rdquo; Toothsome though he be (on toast) he tips the scales at a
-      beggarly half pound. On the other hand, it often takes you a week or so to
-      get one chance at a deer.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Now, it so happens that it was once my fortune to take part in a deer
-      hunt, where the excitement was as continuous as that in a stubble field,
-      and, naturally, far more intense. This was years ago, and in Scott County,
-      Mississippi, two days' journey on horseback from our plantation.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Every November, as a child, I had eagerly hailed the return from the camp
-      hunt of the big four-mule wagon, laden with tents, cooking utensils and
-      provisions, and upon which were piled high the noble bucks and sleek does.
-      At last, when I had reached the age of sixteen, the longed-for permission
-      was granted me, and one crisp, frosty morning my father and I mounted our
-      horses and set out for Scott County, followed by Beverly and the great
-      covered wagon. Both Beverly and Ned, his whitish-gray saddle mule, had
-      their peculiarities, as will appear later.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      As we journeyed on we were joined at successive cross roads by others of
-      our hunting party, and when we reached the ground we numbered, with those
-      already arrived by other routes, about fifteen. The tents were soon
-      pitched and a roaring fire of logs six feet long was sending up its merry
-      sparks into the starry vault above us. Would supper never be ready?
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Meanwhile the tents flashed in the fire light, the ruddy glow of which
-      battled with the hosts of darkness that advanced upon us under cover of
-      the primeval, mysterious forest that surrounded us far and wide. And that
-      forest teeming with deer and wolves. Oh, how delightful! And my Latin
-      grammar miles and miles away! And dust accumulating on my arithmetic!
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Why, where is Billy?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Detained by business; he will join us in a day or two.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Good! A hunt without Billy Blount is no hunt at all.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      At the mere mention of his name every eye brightened. Mr. Blount had more
-      than one peculiarity, all of them pleasant. He was just one of those
-      mortals whom mothers in their fatuity christen William. If ever there was
-      a man born with an inalienable right to be called Billy it was he. A
-      stranger meeting him in the road would know by intuition that that was his
-      name. His twinkling eye suggested it. His ruddy brown dimpled cheek, his
-      breadth of smile proclaimed it, and when he laughed every well-lined rib
-      shouted aloud, &ldquo;Our name is Billy!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      But he was not with us; so the next best thing was to tell stories of his
-      exploits. To these I listened with wide-eyed delight. I will give one as a
-      sample. But that it may be understood, it will be necessary to show
-      beforehand the very unusual method of hunting that obtained in Scott
-      County.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      That portion of Mississippi was in those days almost uninhabited and was
-      covered by a forest&mdash;it would be almost correct to call it a grove&mdash;of
-      post oaks, beneath which grew waist high underbrush. The oaks which
-      covered the ground almost to the exclusion of other trees stood so far
-      apart that one had an outlook of perhaps a couple of hundred yards in
-      every direction, so that a good rider could gallop in comfort along the
-      open spaces. This tree bears a small but sweet nutritious acorn; hence the
-      great store of deer that frequented these forests.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Such being the nature of the ground the chase is conducted as follows: The
-      hunters throw themselves into a skirmish line at intervals of sixty or
-      eighty yards. In the centre rides the leader of the hunt with a compass
-      fixed upon the pommel of his saddle. The line advances through the woods
-      due north, let us say, for a few hours; then wheels at right angle and
-      moves east; then south, then west&mdash;back to camp, venison steaks and
-      wild turkey; for, in the interests of better fare, it was permitted to
-      knock over a gobbler if he were too hospitably saucy to get out of the
-      way. The deer were not equally abundant year after year. Occasionally it
-      was found that &ldquo;black tongue&rdquo; had worked havoc among them since the
-      preceding hunt. But they were always numerous enough to maintain a
-      continuous and intense glow of expectation in the breast of every hunter.
-      As a rule you rode straight ahead, swerving neither to the right nor the
-      left, every nerve on the alert, from sunrise till' sunset. But if you saw
-      a little out of your path an upturned tree you bent your course toward it,
-      your heart in your mouth. I have known as many as seven deer to bound
-      forth from the brown-leaved &ldquo;lap&rdquo; of one fallen oak. But at any moment
-      during the day you were liable to be startled by a buck springing up out
-      of the undergrowth, often from beneath the very feet of your horse.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Only an inexperienced hunter would ask: &ldquo;Why not shoot them where they
-      lie?&rdquo; You do not know they are there. The detective eye that can make out
-      the form of a deer crouched down on a bed of brown leaves and veiled with
-      a fringe of underbrush is given to few. Among these favored ones was our
-      friend Billy. It was generally believed in camp that he shot most of his
-      game in their beds. Billy himself was at no pains, of course, to spread
-      this view. In his highly-illustrated accounts of his achievements the
-      quarry was always going like the wind; he had not been sure, in fact, what
-      he fired at; he saw a brown flash, that was all; banged away, and down
-      came that thumping buck. Never was so surprised in his life; thought it
-      was a hawk or something. But this is the story of Mr. Jennings, brother of
-      the leader of the hunt: &ldquo;Blount rides on my right, and I don't know how I
-      shall get on without him, even for a day or two. However, I may live
-      longer if he is not there, for he sows his buckshot broadcast. Three years
-      ago&mdash;I never knew the deer so thick as they were that season&mdash;happening
-      to look in his direction, I saw him dismounting with an agility that was
-      surprising considering his 225 pounds. He halted me with an eager wave of
-      his hand and began advancing on tiptoe; every fibre of his vast form
-      tense, his eyes riveted upon some object in front, finger on trigger.
-      Barely had he crept forward ten yards when up sprang a buck hardly twenty
-      feet in front of him and darted to the rear, between Blount and me.
-      Instantly, without once removing his eyes from the game upon which he was
-      stealing, he whirled his gun to the right and pulled the trigger. The buck
-      passed on, while twigs and bark rained on me from the whizzing buckshot.
-      Would you believe it?&mdash;but you all know him&mdash;not a moment did he
-      halt or once remove his eyes from whatever it was that had fascinated his
-      gaze in front. He still danced forward, light as an Indian, with eyes
-      starting from their sockets. Presently up jumps a doe. She, too, bounded
-      to the rear, but on Blount's left this time. Again, with his staring eyes
-      still glued to the something in front&mdash;bang! 'What in the &mdash;&mdash;&mdash;
-      are you about?' roared Parrish from Blount's left; 'you will be shooting
-      somebody the first thing you know. Here is one of your crazy shot through
-      my hat.' To all which our wild man paid not the least attention.
-      'Jennings! Jennings! come here! come here! come here! quick! quick! quick!
-      For God's sake, man, hurry!'
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I dismounted and ran up to him. 'There! there! give it to him! Good Lord,
-      man, can't you see him? There, in that lap!' I strained my eyes in vain. I
-      could see nothing. 'Why, don't you see him turning his head? He is looking
-      at us! My Lord, Jennings, gimme the gun! gimme the gun! gimme the gun!'
-      Just as I did so a noble buck sprang from the lap and bounded off. Blount
-      drew down upon him. Bound after bound, and still Blount did not fire,
-      though he seemed to be pulling away for dear life at the triggers.
-      Presently the deer, passing behind a clump of trees, disappeared. I
-      carried my gun at half cock. This Blount did not know or remember. He bent
-      both my triggers. Any other man might very well have bagged all three deer
-      with such a chance. And what do you suppose he then said? 'At any rate, I
-      laid out two of the rascals. Come, Jennings, help me find 'em.'&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Dogs were not used on these hunts. Two or three trusty old hounds, it is
-      true, hung about the heels of our leader's horse, but they were employed
-      only in running down badly-wounded animals. For the first day or so these
-      dogs were hard to control, so rich was the scent that met their nostrils
-      at every turn; but after the third day they grew too <i>blasé</i> to take
-      any interest in any trail not sprinkled with blood. We had a number of
-      horn signals. If a gun was heard, followed by a long blast (every man wore
-      a horn), the line halted. A deer had been killed in its tracks. A second
-      blast indicated that the quarry had been strapped behind the saddle of the
-      lucky man; and once more the line moved forward. But if three or four
-      short, excited toots, mingled with shouts, rang out upon the frosty air, a
-      wounded deer was being pursued, and the leader of the hunt galloped up,
-      followed by his little pack, who soon pulled down the game.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      After all my boasting about the abundance of deer in these post-oak
-      forests the reader is, I dare say, prepared to learn that with a party of
-      fifteen the spoil of a ten-days hunt would be one thousand head at the
-      very least. Great will be his surprise therefore to learn that at the
-      close of our first day's hunt we returned to camp without one solitary
-      buck or doe to show to our disgusted cooks. Never had the game been so
-      scarce, and yet not a man of us all had the same loads in his gun with
-      which he had sallied gaily forth full of hope in the morning. One fine
-      buck alone had emptied just thirty barrels for us. Flushed on the extreme
-      right, he had bounded along in front of the whole line, a trifle out of
-      range, perhaps, and each one of us had given him a roaring double salute.
-      As the rolling thunder approached me I almost ceased to breathe. What were
-      conjugations and declensions and rules of three compared with this! It was
-      like a battle, as I have since discovered, with the notable difference
-      that our side made all the noise, and the deer did not shoot back. But
-      none of us had been able, in the language of Mr. Sam Weller's Dick Turpin
-      ditty, to &ldquo;prewail upon him for to stop.&rdquo; Other shots at other deer all of
-      us had, but we supped on bacon that evening.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0020" id="linkimage-0020"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0075.jpg" alt="0075 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0075.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <h3>
-      SECOND PART
-    </h3>
-    <p class="pfirst">
-      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">O</span>NE who has never
-      tried the experiment can have no idea how easy it is to miss when firing
-      from horseback at a buck who sends your heart up into your mouth by
-      springing up from beneath your horse's heels, and then speeds away,
-      twisting and turning among the boles of the trees. Men who could bring
-      down a partridge with each barrel have been known to shoot away half a bag
-      of shot before they began to get the hang of the thing.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The shades of evening were falling. Humiliating though it was, we had
-      fallen, too, with a will on our gameless supper.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;S-t! Listen! What's that?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      We pricked up our ears. Presently there came softly echoing from far away
-      in the forest a long-drawn cry, ringing, melodious, clear as a bugle call.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Billy!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The welkin rang with our joyous shouts. Half our party sprang to their
-      feet and red-hot coffee splashed from tin cups. &ldquo;Hurrah!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Marse Billy got the keenest holler I ever hear!&rdquo; chuckled Beverly. &ldquo;Bound
-      he fetch luck 'long wid him! No mo' bacon for supper arter dis.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      We craned our necks to catch the first glimpse of our mascot. Obviously,
-      from the direction of the joyous yells with which he answered our
-      welcoming shouts, he had abandoned the road and was riding straight
-      through the open woods. Presently we descried through the deepening
-      twilight his portly form looming up atop a tall gray. Then two vivid
-      flashes and two loud reports, followed by a mad rush of the gray, which
-      came tearing down on us in wild terror, and for a minute we were treated
-      to something like an amateur episode from one of Mr. Buffalo Bill's
-      entertainments. Amid roars of laughing welcome the ponderous knight was at
-      last helped down from his trembling steed, whose bridle Beverly had been
-      able luckily to snatch as he floundered among the tent ropes.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;And where the deuce did you pick up that wild beast? Surely you can't
-      expect to shoot from him!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh, I'll cool him down in a day or two; he'll soon get used to it.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      In point of fact a horse who dreads a gun gets more and more terror
-      stricken as the hunt goes on, the mere sight of a deer, the cocking of a
-      gun even, sufficing to set him off into plungings that grow day by day
-      more violent. This none should have known better than Blount; for never,
-      by any chance, did he ride to the hunt with an animal that would &ldquo;stand
-      fire.&rdquo; The discharge of his gun, the rise of a buck even, was always the
-      opening of a circus with him. But he managed invariably to let off both
-      barrels&mdash;one perhaps through the tree tops, the other into the
-      ground. In one particular alone was he provident. He brought always so
-      immense a supply of ammunition that toward the close of the hunt his tent
-      was a supply magazine to the less thoughtful.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What!&rdquo; exclaimed Blount, &ldquo;not a single one! Ah! boys, that was because I
-      was not with you.&rdquo; The jovial soul had not a trace of conceit; he was
-      merely sanguine&mdash;contagiously, gloriously, magnificently sanguine.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Ah, but won't we knock 'em over tomorrow!&rdquo; And straightway we lifted up
-      our hearts and had faith in this prophet of pleasant things.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Beverly, will that mule Ned stand fire?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I dunno, Marse Billy; nobody ain't nebber tried him. But I 'spec' you
-      wouldn't ax him no odds.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I'll go and have a look at him.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Shortly afterward we heard two tremendous explosions, followed by a
-      frenzied clatter of hoofs and the sound of breaking branches, and up there
-      came, running and laughing, a Monsieur Wynen, a Belgian violinist, a real
-      artist, who was one of our party (though never a trigger did he pull
-      during the entire hunt).
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What's the matter?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Wynen was first violin in an opera troupe.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;It is only Blount rehearsing Ned.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Any man in the world except Blount would have tested that demure wheel
-      mule's views as to firearms by firing off his gun in his neighborhood as
-      he stood tethered. Not so Billy. Mounting the guileless and unsuspecting
-      Ned, and casting the reins upon his bristly neck, he had let drive.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Shocked beyond expression by the dreadful roar and flash (it was now
-      night) Ned had made a mad rush through the woods. In vain; for Blount had
-      a good seat. Then had there come into Ned's wily brain the reminiscence of
-      a trick that he had never known to fail in thirty years. He stopped
-      suddenly, still as a gate post, at the same time bracing his vertebrae
-      into the similitude of a barrel hoop, and instantly Blount lay sprawling
-      upon his jolly back; and there was a second roar, followed by a rush of
-      buckshot among the leaves and around the legs of the audience that was
-      watching the rehearsal. &ldquo;Never mind, Jack,&rdquo; said he to me, shortly
-      afterward, &ldquo;I'll find something that will stand fire&rdquo; and throwing his arm
-      around my shoulder for a confidential talk of the slaughter he was to do
-      on the morrow, his sanguine soul bubbled into my sympathetic ear:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I say, Jack, don't tell the boys; but I have got two bags of shot. They
-      would laugh, of course. Now, how many ought a fellow to bring down with
-      two bags? I mean a cool-headed chap who does not lose his head. How does
-      one dozen to the bag strike you? Reasonable? H'm? Of course. Twenty-four,
-      then. Well, let us say twenty-five, just to round off things. Golly! Why,
-      nine is the highest score I ever made. Twenty-five! Why, that is a quarter
-      of a hundred. Did you notice that? Whee-ew! The boys will stop bedeviling
-      me after that, h'm? I should say so. Not a rascal of them all ever killed
-      so many. Cool and steady, that's the thing, my boy. Up he jumps! What of
-      that? Don't be flustered, I tell you. Count ten. Then lower your gun.
-      There is not the least hurry in the world. Drop the muzzle on his side,
-      just behind his shoulder. Steady! Let him think you are not after deer
-      this morning. If it is a doe let it appear that you are loaded for buck.
-      Bang! Over he tumbles in his tracks. You load up and are off again. Up
-      hops another&mdash;a beauty. Same tactics&mdash;boo-doo-ee! Got him!
-      What's the sense of throwing away your shot? Costs money&mdash;delays the
-      line. Cool&mdash;cool and steady&mdash;that's the word, my boy. Get any
-      shots to-day? Three? Hit anything?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      It was too dark for him to see how pale I went at this question. &ldquo;Mr.
-      Blount,&rdquo; said I, with a choking in my throat (nobody could help telling
-      the big-hearted fellow everything), &ldquo;you won't tell my father, will you?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Tell him what?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Well, you see, he cautioned me over and over again never, under any
-      circumstances, to fire at a deer that ran toward a neighboring huntsman.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Of course not&mdash;never!&rdquo; echoed Blount with conviction.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;And to-day&mdash;and to-day, when I was not thinking of such a thing, a
-      big buck jumped up from right under my horse's belly, and did you notice
-      that gray-headed old gentleman by the fire? Well, the buck rushed straight
-      toward him&mdash;and I forgot all about what my father had said and banged
-      away.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Did you pepper him?&rdquo; put in Billy eagerly.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Pepper him!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I mean the buck.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I don't know, he went on.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;They will do it, occasionally, somehow.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;When I saw the leaves raining down on the old gentleman, my heart stopped
-      beating. You will not tell my father?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Pshaw! There was no harm done. We must trust to Providence in these
-      matters. What did the old gentleman say?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Not a word; it was his first campaign, too. His eyes were nearly popping
-      out of his head. He let off both barrels. The shot whistled around me!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;The old fool! He ought to know better. To-morrow your father must put you
-      next to me.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Blount brought us hilarity and hope, but no luck, at any rate at first.
-      When we rode slowly into camp on the following day, just as the sun went
-      down, we had one solitary doe to show. Blount&mdash;Blount of all men&mdash;had
-      killed it. The servants hung it up on one of the poles that remained from
-      year to year stretched against the neighboring trees.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Owing to Blount's weight his game was always strapped behind some less
-      lucky huntsman; so we had had no opportunity of examining his riddled
-      quarry.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Why, how is this?&rdquo; exclaimed he. &ldquo;Oh, I remember; the other side was
-      toward me.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      We went around to the other side. Had the doe died of fright? After much
-      searching we found one bullet hole just behind the shoulder. Blount always
-      put four extra bullets into his load. So he had showered down forty
-      buckshot upon a doe lying in her bed at a distance of twenty feet and
-      struck her with one.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I say, Jack, for the Lord's sake don't tell the boys!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      After these two days our luck improved, and at the end of the hunt our
-      score reached seventy-eight; the smallest number, by the way, that the
-      club had ever killed. It would hardly be interesting to go into the
-      details of each day's sport, but our hero's adventures one night seem
-      worth recording. To this joyous and indefatigable spirit the day was all
-      too short. No sooner had he eaten his supper each day than he began to
-      importune the younger men of the party to join him in a &ldquo;fire hunt;&rdquo; but,
-      as they were not Blounts, they felt that a long day in the saddle was
-      enough. In his despair Blount turned to Beverly. That amiable creature,
-      not knowing how to refuse the request of a white gentmun, assented, but
-      with a quaking heart, for were not the surrounding forests swarming with
-      ravenous wolves? He had often lain awake and listened complacently enough
-      to their howling, but to trust, to thrust, himself wantonly among them at
-      dead of night!
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Wid nobody along but Marse Billy Blount, an' he couldn't hit nothin',
-      even by daylight, onless dey asleep. He hear 'em say wolf 'fraid o' fire.
-      Maybe he is. But lights draws dem wild varmints, an' 'sposin' arter a
-      whole congregation un 'em done come up starin' at de light; 'sposin'
-      somehow or nuther de torch got out&mdash;whar Beverly den? Marse Billy got
-      de gun; but whar Beverly? Ain't I hear people say wolf more ambitiouser
-      for nig-gar dan for sheep meat? Howsomever, ef my own mahster willin' to
-      resk losin' of me, I can stand it, I reckon. But Tom, ef you should wake
-      up, and hear something coming through de bresh like a drove o' steers, you
-      needn't ax what dat; it's me and de wolves a-makin' for camp; an' me in
-      the lead, wid de help o' de Laud.&rdquo; Sitting in front of the blazing logs
-      and chatting with his fellow cooks, Beverly could see the humor of his
-      quite real fears.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Behold, then, the burly knight and his dusky and not over-valiant squire
-      setting forth in quest of adventure&mdash;the one mounted on his tall
-      gray, the other astraddle of Ned. It appears incredible that any man in
-      his senses would take two such ani-malson such an expedition, but there
-      never was but one Blount. Beverly carried the gun, his chief the torch,
-      consisting of &ldquo;lightwood&rdquo; knots blazing in the bowl of a long-handled
-      frying pan. The handle, resting on the right shoulder, was held somewhat
-      depressed, so that the light should shine above the head of the huntsman,
-      illumining the woods in his front. The sportsman, slowly waving the handle
-      to and fro, peers intently into the darkness in quest of the gleaming eyes
-      of some staring buck.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Presently a dismal howl from far away to the right came stealing through
-      the silence. And presently an answering cry from the left, and much
-      nearer. And another, and another! <i>Ugh! what was that?</i> A rabbit had
-      darted under Ned, across the rattling leaves. Beverly, shivering, dug his
-      heels into Ned's ribs. Ned pressed forward till his nose touched the
-      ticklish flank of the gray. The gray let fly with whizzing hoof. Ned shut
-      his eyes, unwilling to witness the enormity of an aged mule being kicked
-      at by torchlight.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Beverly! Beverly!&rdquo; breathed the knight eagerly, &ldquo;gimme the gun! gimme the
-      gun! I see a pair of eyes as big as saucers!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;M&mdash;M&mdash;Marse B&mdash;B&mdash;Billy&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Quick! gimme the gun! What the devil is the matter with you?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;De wolves, Marse Billy! 'Sposin' arter de gun done empty dey splunge in
-      upon us? I bound a whole nation un 'em watchin' us dis minute!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Blount wrested the gun from the reluctant Beverly, whose knee now trembled
-      against his. Pressing down the pan handle so as to throw the light well in
-      front, he cocked the gun, adjusted it to his shoulder, took aim, and
-      pulled the trigger.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Blount, in reply to the warning of his friends, had urged that it might
-      very well be that a horse that shied by day at a gun would act differently
-      at night. And he was right. By daylight the gray was in the habit of
-      making one or two violent plunges when his rider fired. But tonight, when
-      that terrible roar broke the stillness and that fierce blaze flashed into
-      his eyes&mdash;&mdash;
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Immediately after the sound of the gun reached us we heard the anxious,
-      jolting bray of a trotting mule. The disjointed, semi-asinine song came
-      nearer, and presently Ned hurried past the fire to his place by his
-      tethered mate, with a low equine chuckle of satisfaction. In his wake
-      rushed Beverly, panting, wide eyed. It was a full minute before he could
-      speak.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Lord, mahsters, don't ax me nothin'; I don't know nothin' 'bout it. I
-      'most don't know whether I here or no arter de way dem revengious varmints
-      whoop me through dem woods, a-yelpin' an' a-gnash-in' o' deir teeth. B'fo'
-      Gaud, I thought every minute was gwine to be my next! When Marse Billy
-      shoot, though I beg him not to, seein' dat de whole woods was a-bilin' wid
-      wolves, dat fool of a horse o' hisn jess riz on his hind legs an' splunge
-      right over me an' Ned, jess like we warn't nothin't all. Dem lightwood
-      knots flew right up, same as one o' dem blaze o' glories I see when I got
-      religion. I lit on my head. Ned he went oneway; Marse Billy horse anudder.
-      But seein' as I done knowed Ned de longest, I followed him&mdash;an' he
-      fotch me home. Run? No, twarnt runnin', twas flyin'; an' every jump de
-      varmints was a-reachin' for me. I hear deir teeth, jess as plain, clashin'
-      like sheep shears. Umgh-umgh! Beverly hump heself he did. Jess look at my
-      clothes! I left de rest of 'em on de bushes. Whar Marse Billy? Lord
-      a-mussy, I dunno! I mighty 'fraid de wolves done got him, leastwise ef he
-      didn't set hard on dat dere fool gray.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Mahster, couldn't you gimme jess a leetle tetch o' dat whiskey? I'se
-      powerful downhearted. Thank you, mahster. But mahster, don't lemme go no
-      mo' a spotin' along o' Marse Billy; seem like I ain't dat kind. Lemme
-      drive my mules, lemme cook, don't lemme go projickin' about wid Marse
-      Billy Blount no mo'. You laughin', is you, Tom? Nemmind&mdash;you go next
-      time!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Presently there came to us from far away a doleful yell, with nothing of
-      the bugle blast in it. &ldquo;There he is!&rdquo; and we made response with
-      laughter-choked shouts.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      About fifteen minutes afterward the sound of hoofs was heard, and
-      presently our mighty hunter appeared, but <i>quantum mutatus ab illo!</i>
-      No hat, no gun, one skirt of his coat and half of the buttons gone; shirt
-      bosom torn out, trousers hanging in ribbons! But though his face was
-      scratched beyond recognition he remained the one, only true Blount in the
-      world; though his eyes were bloodshot they beamed with conscious victory.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Boys,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;which of you will go and help me bring him in?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Bring what in?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Why, the buck&mdash;I blew his infernal head off, sure!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Next morning Blount and Beverly rode to the scene of their exploit, and
-      Blount secured his gun and Beverly his frying pan. 'The buck had either
-      walked off without his head or been swallowed by one of the varmints.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div style="height: 4em;">
-      <br /><br /><br /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h2>
-      A CAHUTTA VALLEY SHOOTING MATCH, By Will N. Harben
-    </h2>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0021" id="linkimage-0021"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="figleft" style="width:20%;">
-      <img src="images/9087.jpg" alt="9087 " width="100%" /><br /><a
-      href="images/9087.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </div>
-    <p>
-      HERE was a sound of merriment on Farmer Bagley's place. It was &ldquo;corn
-      shucking&rdquo; night, and the young people from all sides had met to partake of
-      mirth and hospitality. After all had taken seats in the large sitting room
-      and parlor, the men were invited with a mysterious wink and grin from the
-      countenance of jovial Bagley to taste the contents of a large brown jug
-      which smiled on a shelf beside the water bucket out in the entry. Its
-      saturated corn-cob stopper, lying whiskey colored in the moonlight by the
-      side of the jug, gave a most tempting aroma to the crisp, invigorating
-      November air and rendered Bagley's signs and hints all the more
-      comprehensible.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      They were mostly young men who, with clattering boots, filed out to the
-      shelf and turned, with smacking lips wiped on their hands, back to the
-      clusters of shy, tittering maidens round the blazing log fires. They wore
-      new jean trousers neatly folded round muscular calves and stowed away,
-      without a visible wrinkle, into high, colored-topped boots with sharp,
-      brightly-polished heels, upon which were strapped clanking spurs. Their
-      sack coats, worn without vests over low-necked woolen shirts, fitted their
-      strong bodies admirably.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Dick Martin, a tall, well-built young man with marked timidity in his
-      voice, considerably augmented by the brightness of Melissa Bagley's eyes,
-      drew near that young lady and said:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yore pap has certainly got some o' the best corn licker in this county,
-      Melissa; it liter'ly sets a feller on fire.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Be ashamed, Dick Martin!&rdquo; she answered, with a cautious glance around her
-      as if she feared that someone would observe the flush that had risen into
-      her pretty face as he approached. &ldquo;Be ashamed o' yorese'f fur techin'
-      licker; last log-rollin' you 'lowed you'd tuk yore last dram. Paw ort to
-      be churched fur settin' temptation 'fore so many young men. Ef I had my
-      way the' wouldn't be a still, wild cat nur licensed, in the Co-hutta
-      Mountains nowhar.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Shucks, Melissa!&rdquo; exclaimed Dick. &ldquo;Don't git yore dander up 'bout
-      nothin'. I'm that anxious to git yore pap on my side I'd drink slop,
-      mighty high, ef he 'uz to ax me. He don't like me, an' blame me ef I know
-      why, nuther. I ain't been here in the last three Sunday nights 'thout him
-      a-callin' you to bed most 'fore dark. He didn't raise no objections to
-      Bill Miller a-stayin' tell 'leven o'clock last Tuesday night. Oh, I ain't
-      blind to hurt! Bill owns his own land and I havn't a shovelful; thar's the
-      difference. He's a-comin' now, but mind you I'm agwine to set by you at
-      shuckin'.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The bright flush which had added such beauty to the girl's face vanished
-      as Bill Miller swaggered up and said with a loud voice, as he roughly
-      shook her hand:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Meliss', kin I wait on you at shuckin'?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Dick's jest this minute axed me,&rdquo; she stammered, beginning to blush anew.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Well, he ain't axed to set on both sides uv you, I reckon. You'd be a
-      uncommon quar pusson ef the' wuz jest one side to you. What's to keep me
-      frum settin' on tother side frum Dick?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      To this the farmer's daughter made no reply, and as the guests were now
-      starting to the barnyard she was escorted between the two rivals to the
-      great coneshaped heap of unhusked corn gleaming in the pale moonlight.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;All keep yore feet an' form a ring round the pile!&rdquo; called out Bagley, so
-      as to be overheard above the sound of their voices. &ldquo;The' ain't no r'al
-      fun 'thout everything is conducted fa'r and squar'. Now&rdquo; (as all the
-      merrymakers stood hand in hand round the corn heap, Dick with one of
-      Melissa's hands in his tight clasp and his rival with the other)&mdash;&ldquo;now,
-      all march round an' somebody start 'King William Wuz King James' Son,' an'
-      when I tell you to halt set down right whar' you are. I'm a-doin' this
-      'kase at Wade's last week some fellers hid red yeers o' corn nigh the'r
-      places an' wuz etarnally a-kissin' o' the gals, which ain't fa'r nur
-      decent. The rule on this occasion shall be as common, in regard to the
-      fust feller that finds a red yeer o'corn bein' 'lowed to kiss any gal he
-      likes, but atter that one time&mdash;understand everybody&mdash;atter that
-      no bussin' kin take place, red yeer ur no red yeer. I advocate moderation
-      in all things, especially whar' a man an' woman's mouth is con-sarned.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      While the musical tones of the familiar song were rising, and the straw
-      beneath the feet of the human chain was rustling, Bagley called aloud the
-      word: &ldquo;Halt!&rdquo; and all sat down immediately and went to work with a will.
-      Song after song was sung. The hard, pearly silk-tipped ears of corn flew
-      through the air and rained into the crib near at hand, and billows of
-      husks rolled up behind the eager workers and were raked away by negroes
-      who were not permitted to take part in the sport.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Here's a red un, by hunky!&rdquo; yelled out a sunburnt, downy-faced youth,
-      standing up and holding aloft a small ear of blood-red corn.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Hold on thar!&rdquo; shouted Bagley in commanding tones. &ldquo;The rules must be
-      enforced to the letter. Jim Lash, ef yore yeer measures full six inches
-      ye're the lucky man, but ef it falls short o' that size its a nubbin an'
-      don't count.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      An eager group encircled the young man, but soon a loud laugh rose and
-      they all fell back into their places, for the ear had proved to be only
-      five inches in length.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Not yit, Jimmy Lash; not yit,&rdquo; grunted Dick Martin, as he raked an armful
-      of unhusked corn into his and Melissa's laps. Then to Melissa in an
-      undertone: &ldquo;Ef wishin' 'u'd do any good, I'd be the fust to run acrost
-      one, fur, by jingo! the' ain't a livin' man, Melissa, that could want it
-      as bad as I do with you a-settin' so handy. By glory! [aloud] here she is,
-      as red as sumac an' as long as a rollin' pin. The Lord be praised!&rdquo; He had
-      risen to his feet and stood holding up the trophy for Bagley's inspection,
-      fairly aglow with triumph and exercise.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The rustling in the corn husks ceased. All eyes were directed upon the
-      erect forms of Dick Martin and Farmer Bagley. The clear moonlight revealed
-      an unpleasant expression on the older man's face in vivid contrast to the
-      cast of the younger's. Bagley seemed rather slow to form a decision; all
-      present suspected the cause of his hesitation.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Fair's fair, Bagley!&rdquo; called out an old farmer outside of the circle.
-      &ldquo;Don't belittle yorese'f by 'lowin' anything o' a personal natur' to come
-      in an' influence you ag'in right. Dick Martin's the fust an' is entitled
-      to the prize.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yore right, Wilson,&rdquo; admitted Bagley, with his eyes downcast. &ldquo;Dick
-      Martin is the winner an' kin proceed; howsomever, thar's some things that&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      <br />
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      Salute yore bride an' kiss her sweet,
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      Now you may rise upon yore feet!
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br />
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      sang the leader of the singers, completely drowning the remainder of
-      Bagley's sentence. As quick as a flash of lightning Dick had thrown his
-      arm round struggling Melissa and imprinted a warm kiss on her lips. Then
-      the workers applauded vociferously, and Melissa sat, suffused with
-      crimson, between sullen Bill Miller and beaming Dick Martin. Bagley showed
-      plainly that Dick's action and the applause of all had roused his dislike
-      for Dick even deeper than ever.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I'm knowed to be a man o' my word,&rdquo; he fumed, white in the face and
-      glancing round the ring of upturned faces. &ldquo;I'm firm as firm kin be, I
-      mought say as the rock o' Bralty, when I take a notion. I've heerd a
-      leetle o' the talk in this settlement 'mongst some o' the meddlin' sort,
-      an' fur fear this leetle accident mought add to the'r tattle I'd jest like
-      to remark that ef thar's a man on the top side o' the earth that knows
-      what's to be done with his own flesh an' blood it ort to be me. What's
-      been the talk ain't so, not a speck of it. I've got somethin' to say to&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Paw!&rdquo; expostulated Melissa, almost crying.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Mr. Bagley&mdash;I say, Abrum Bagley, don't make a born fool o'
-      yorese'f,&rdquo; broke in Mrs. Bagley, as she waddled into the circle and laid
-      her hand heavily upon her husband's arm. &ldquo;Now, folks, it's about time you
-      wuz gittin' somethin' warm into you. You kin finish the pile atter you've
-      eat. Come on, all hands, to the house!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      A shadow of mortification fell athwart Dick's honest face as soon as
-      Bagley had spoken. His sensitive being was wounded to the core. As he and
-      Melissa walked back to the farm house together, Bill Miller having dropped
-      behind to gossip with someone over Bagley's remarks, he was silent, and
-      timid Melissa was too shy to break the silence, although it was very
-      painful to her.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Reaching the entrance to the farm house, Dick held back and refused to
-      enter with the others.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Ain't you gwine to come in an' have some supper?&rdquo; Melissa asked,
-      pleadingly.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I ain't a-goin' narry nuther step. Anything cooked in this house would
-      stick in my throat atter what's been said. He struck me a underhanded
-      lick. I won't force myse'f on 'im nur to his table.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I think you mought, bein' as I axed you,&rdquo; said she tremblingly, as she
-      shrank into the honeysuckle vines that clung to the latticework of the
-      entry.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;No, blame me ef I do!&rdquo; he answered firmly. &ldquo;I'm of as good stock as
-      anybody in this county; nobody cayn't run no bull yearlin' dry shod over
-      me.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      All Melissa could do could not induce him to join the others in the dining
-      room, and when he walked angrily away she ran into her own room, and
-      sitting down in the darkness alone she burst into a flood of tears. After
-      supper the guests repaired again to the corn heap, but Melissa was not
-      among them, and the spirits of all seemed somewhat dampened.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      After that night Dick Martin and Melissa Bagley did not meet each other
-      for several days. However, on the Sunday following the corn shucking, as
-      Melissa was returning from meeting through the woods alone, the very one
-      who was uppermost in her troubled mind joined her. He emerged from the
-      thick-growing bushes which skirted her path, with a very pale face and
-      unhappy mien.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I jest couldn't wait another minute, Melissa,&rdquo; he said, standing
-      awkwardly before her, &ldquo;not ef I had to be shot fur it.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Paw's mighty stubborn an' contrary when he takes a notion,&rdquo; she said,
-      with hanging head and an embarrassed kick of her foot at a tuft of grass.
-      &ldquo;I think he mought let me alone. You ain't the only one he hates. Thar's
-      ol' man Lawson; law, he hates him wuss'n canker! I heerd 'im say tother
-      day ef somebody 'u'd jest beat Lawson shootin' next match he'd be his
-      friend till death. He ain't never got over his lawsuit with Lawson over
-      the sheep our dog killed. Paw fit it in court through three terms, an'
-      then had to give in an' settle the claim an' all the costs besides. It
-      mighty nigh broke im. Fur the last five years Lawson has driv home the
-      prize beef from the fall match, an' every time paw jest fairly shakes with
-      madness over it.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      When Dick left Melissa at the bars in sight of her house and turned toward
-      his home a warm idea was tingling in his brain, and by the time he had
-      reached his father's cottage he was fairly afire with it. The shooting
-      match was to take place in a month&mdash;what was to prevent him from
-      taking part in it? He had an excellent rifle, and had done some good
-      shooting at squirrels. Perhaps if he would practice a good deal he might
-      win. Lawson was deemed the best marksman in all the Cohutta valleys, and
-      frequently it had been hard to get anyone to enter a match against him.
-      Dick at last decided to enter the forthcoming match at all events. He went
-      into his cottage and took down his rifle from its deer-horn rack over the
-      door. While he was eyeing the long, rusty barrel critically his old mother
-      entered.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Fixin' fur a hunt, Dick? Thar's a power o' pa'tridges in the sage field
-      down the hollar. A rifle ain't as good fur that sort o' game as a shotgun;
-      suppose you step over an' ax Hanson to loan you his'n?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I jest 'lowed I'd shine this un up a bit bein' as it's Sunday an' I hate
-      to be idle,&rdquo; he answered, evasively, as he seated himself at the wide
-      fireplace with a pan of grease and a piece of cloth and rubbed his gun
-      barrel until it fairly shone in the firelight. The next morning he threw
-      it over his shoulder and, taking an axe in his hand, he started toward the
-      woods.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Didn't know but I mought find a bee tree somers,&rdquo; he said sheepishly, as
-      he saw his mother looking wonderingly at the axe. &ldquo;Not likely, but I
-      mought, thar's no tellin', though the darn little varmints do keep
-      powerful close hid this time o' year.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      He went over the hills and through the tangled woods until he came to a
-      secluded old field. He singled out a walnut tree near its centre, and
-      going to it he cut a square white spot in the bark with his axe. It is
-      needless to detail all that took place there that day, or on other days
-      following it. For the first week the earnest fellow would return from this
-      spot each afternoon with a very despondent look upon him. As time passed,
-      however, and his visits to the riddled tree grew more frequent his face
-      began to grow brighter.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Once his mother came suddenly upon him as he stood in the cottage before
-      the open door with his rifle placed in position for firing. He lowered his
-      gun with a deep blush.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I 'us jest a tryin' to see how long I could keep the sight on that shiny
-      spot out thar in the field without flinchin'. Blame me, ef you hadn't come
-      in I believe I could a helt her thar tell it thundered.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Dick,&rdquo; said the old woman, with a deep breath, &ldquo;what on earth has got in
-      you here lately? Are you gwine plump stark crazy 'bout that old gun? You
-      never tuk on that way before.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I've jest found out I'm purty good on a shot, that's all,&rdquo; he replied,
-      evasively.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;as fur as that's concerned, in old times our stock was
-      reckoned to be the best marksmen in our section. You ort to be; yore
-      narrer 'twixt the eyes, an' that's a shore sign.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Dick caught a glimpse of Melissa now and then, and managed to exchange a
-      few words with her occasionally, the nature of which we will not disclose.
-      It may be said, however, that she was always in good spirits, which
-      puzzled her father considerably, for he was at a loss to see why she
-      should be so when Dick had not visited her since the night of the corn
-      shucking. Moreover, she continually roused her father's anger by speaking
-      frequently of the great honor that belonged to Farmer Lawson for so often
-      Winning the prizes in the shooting matches.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Dang it, Melissa, dry up!&rdquo; he exclaimed, boiling with anger, &ldquo;you know I
-      hate that daddrated man. I'd fling my hat as high as the moon ef some o'
-      these young bucks 'u'd beat him this fall; he's as full o' brag as a lazy
-      calf is with fleas.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;No use a hopin' fur anything o' that sort, paw; Lawson's too old a han'.
-      He ain't got his equal at shootin' ur lawin.' The whole country couldn't
-      rake up a better one.&rdquo; After speaking in this manner she would stifle a
-      giggle by holding her hand over her mouth until she was livid in the face,
-      and escape from her mystified parent, leaving him to vent his spleen on
-      the empty air.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The day of the annual shooting match drew near. It was not known who were
-      to be the participants aside from Lawson, for the others usually waited
-      till the time arrived to announce their intentions. No better day could
-      have been chosen. The sky was blue and sprinkled with frothy clouds, and
-      the weather was not unpleasantly cold. Women and men, boys, girls and
-      children from all directions were assembled to witness the sport and were
-      seated in chairs and wagons all over the wide, open space.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Melissa was there in a cluster of girls, and her father was near by in a
-      group of men, all of whom&mdash;like himself&mdash;disliked the
-      blustering, boasting Lawson and fondly hoped that someone would beat him
-      on this occasion. Lawson stood by himself, with a confident smile on his
-      face. His rifle butt rested on the grass and his hands were folded across
-      each other on the end of his gun barrel.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Wilks,&rdquo; said he to the clerk of the county court, who had been chosen as
-      referee for the occasion, &ldquo;git up yore list o' fellers that are bold
-      enough to shoot agin the champion. I reckon my nerves are 'bout as they
-      wuz six yeer ago when I fust took my stan' here to larn this settlement
-      how to shoot.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Just before the list of aspirants was read aloud Dick managed to reach
-      Melissa's side unobserved by her father.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Did you keep yore promise 'bout cut-tin' my patchin' fur me?&rdquo; he asked in
-      a whisper.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      With trembling fingers she drew from her pocket several little pieces of
-      white cotton cloth about the size of a silver quarter of a dollar and gave
-      them to him.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;They're jest right to a gnat's heel,&rdquo; he said, warmly. &ldquo;A ball packed in
-      one o' them'll go straight ur I'm no judge.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Dick,&rdquo; whispered she, looking him directly in the eyes, &ldquo;you ain't a bit
-      flustered. I believe you'll win.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      With a smile Dick turned away and joined the crowd round the referee's
-      chair, and when his name was called a moment later among the names of four
-      others he brought his rifle from a wagon and stood in view of the crowd.
-      The first applause given that day was accorded him, for in addition to its
-      being his first appearance in a shooting match he was universally popular.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Bully fur you, Dick; here's my han' wishing you luck!&rdquo; said a
-      cheery-voiced farmer, shaking Dick's hand.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;It's the way with all these young strips,&rdquo; said Lawson in a loud,
-      boastful tone. &ldquo;Gwine to conquer the whole round world. He'll grin on
-      tother side o' his mouth when Bettie, the lead queen, barks and spits in
-      the very centre o' that spot out yander.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      A feeble murmur of admiration greeted this vaunting remark, but it quickly
-      subsided as the crowd noted that Dick Martin did not reply even by so much
-      as to raise his eyes from the inspection of his gun. The referee called
-      for order.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Jim Baker,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;be so kind as to drive round yore stall-fed heifer.
-      Ladies an' gentlemen [as a man emerged from a group of wagons and drove a
-      fine-looking young cow into the open space], here's a heifer in fine
-      enough order to make any man's eyes sore to look. Fifteen round dollars
-      has been paid in, by the five men who are to burn powder to-day, $3
-      apiece, an' the man whose shootin' iron can fling lead the straightest on
-      this occasion is entitled to the beef and the championship o' this valley
-      till next fall. Now, Mr. Baker, lead out yore cow, an' the shooters will
-      please form in a line.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      When the aspirants stood in front of him the referee continued:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Here is five pieces o' straw, all different lengths. The man who gets the
-      shortest one shoots fust, the next longest next, an' so on till you've all
-      had yore crack.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Passing the straws to the riflemen, and af ter they had drawn one each
-      from his tightly closed hands, he ordered a man to set up the target&mdash;a
-      planed plank, about one foot in width and six in length, with a round
-      marked spot about three inches in diameter, near the top.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I'd willin'ly give my chance o' oats to have some o' them boys knock the
-      stuffin' clean out'n Lawson; he's that stuck up he cayn't hardly walk,&rdquo;
-       said Bagley, his anger intensified by observing the sneering smile on
-      Lawson's face.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I'm mighty afeard,&rdquo; said the man to whom Bagley was speaking, &ldquo;that Dick
-      Martin 'll lose his $3. I never heerd o' him bein' any han' with a gun.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      To this Bagley offered no reply. In his hatred for Lawson, and at such a
-      time he had no thought to give to Dick.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;All ready!&rdquo; rang out the voice of the referee. &ldquo;Bob Ransom gits the first
-      pull at trigger to-day.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Silence fell on the crowd as the tall, slender young man stepped forth and
-      stood with his left foot on a line cut in the grass exactly 100 yards from
-      the tree against which the yellow board with its single eye leaned in the
-      sunbeams. Not a whisper escaped the motionless assembly as the young man
-      slowly brought his weapon into position. &ldquo;Crack!&rdquo; sounded the rifle out of
-      a balloon-shaped cloud of blue smoke.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Missed centre, board, tree an' all!&rdquo; cried out Bagley, in a tone of deep
-      regret.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I seed yore lead plough up the dirt away out tother side; it's powerful
-      hard to hold a steady han' when you are fust called on.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Next is Taylor Banks!&rdquo; announced the referee; and as a middle-aged man
-      advanced and toed the mark, Lawson was heard to say, with a loud laugh;
-      &ldquo;Fust one missed the tree; you folks on the left out thar 'u'd better set
-      back fur-der; no tellin' who Banks 'll hit, fur he's a-tremblin' like so
-      much jelly.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Hit about three inches due north o' the spot,&rdquo; called out the referee, as
-      the smoke rose from the peering marksman. &ldquo;I'm afraid, Tayl', that
-      somebody 'll come nigher than that when the pinch comes. Joe Burk is the
-      next, an' I'll take occasion to say here that I know of no man in all this
-      mountain country that is more prompt to pay his taxes.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Crack!&rdquo; A universal bending of necks to get the target in better view and
-      a rolling billow of voices in the crowd.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;A inch an' a half below the spot!&rdquo; proclaimed the referee. &ldquo;Why, friends,
-      what ails you all? This ain't nigh such shootin' as we had last fall. Too
-      many women present, I reckon. Ladies, if you'll cover up yore faces maybe
-      the next two will do better. The straws say that Abraham Lawson has the
-      next whack. Lawson, make yore bow.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The champion of the settlement stepped into view with a haughty strut,
-      dragging his rifle butt on the ground and swinging his broad-brimmed hat
-      carelessly in his hand. Turning to a negro behind him as he took his
-      place, he said so that all could hear:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Tobe, git yore rope ready an' stan' over thar nigh the beef. When you git
-      'er home turn 'er in the pastur'. Ef this thing goes on year atter year
-      I'll start a cattle ranch an' quit farmin'.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Dang his hide!&rdquo; exclaimed Bagley to Melissa, who was very pale and quite
-      speechless. &ldquo;Dang it, I'd lay this here right arm on any man's meat block
-      an' give 'im leave to chop it off ef he'd jest git beat. He's that spiled
-      flies is on 'im.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Lawson's hat was now on the grass at his feet and he had deliberately
-      raised his brightly-polished weapon to his broad shoulder. The sun
-      glittered on the long steel tube. The silence for an instant was so
-      profound that the birds could be heard singing in the woods and the cawing
-      of the crows in the corn fields near by sounded harsh to the ear. For an
-      instant the sturdy champion stood as if molded in metal, his long hair
-      falling over his gun stock, against which his tanned cheek was closely
-      pressed. Not a sound passed the lips of the assembly, and when the rifle
-      report came it sent a twinge to many a heart.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Dang it!&rdquo; ejaculated Lawson, as he lowered his gun and peered through the
-      rising smoke toward the target. &ldquo;I felt a unsteady quiver tech me jest as
-      I pulled the trigger.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;About half an inch from the very centre o' the mark. Yore ahead. Nobody
-      is likely to come up to you, Lawson,&rdquo; said the referee. &ldquo;The' ain't but
-      one more.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I don't keer,&rdquo; replied Lawson. &ldquo;I know the cow's mine; but I did want to
-      come up to my record. I walked too fast over here an' it made me
-      unsteady.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;The next an' last candidate for glory,&rdquo; said the referee, &ldquo;is Dick
-      Martin. No cheerin', friends, it ain't been give to the others and you
-      oughtn't to show partiality. Besides, it might excite him, an' he needs
-      all the nerve he's got.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Bagley was still at Melissa's side. He had his eyes too intently fixed on
-      the stalwart form of Dick Martin and the young man's pale, determined
-      visage to note that his daughter had covered her pale face with her cold,
-      trembling hands and bowed her head.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;By Jinks! he's the coolest cucumber that's lifted shootin' iron to-day,&rdquo;
-       said Bagley under his breath. &ldquo;Ef he beats Lawson dagg me if I don't give
-      him a dance in my barn an' invite every man, woman an' child in the whole
-      valley.&rdquo; With his left foot on the mark and his right thrown back easily,
-      as if he were taking a step forward, and his well-formed body bent
-      slightly toward the target, Dick stood motionless, sighting along his gun
-      barrel at the target. Then, to the surprise of all, he raised his gun
-      until it pointed to the top of the tree against which the target leaned.
-      Here a gentle sigh, born from the union of half surprise and half
-      disappointment, swept over the crowd as low as the whisper of a breeze
-      through a dry foliaged tree. The sigh died away and intense silence
-      claimed the moment, for the gun's point was sweeping rapidly downward.
-      Hardly a second did it pause in a line with the target's centre before the
-      report came, putting every breast in sudden motion. The marker's eyes saw
-      a clean splinter fly from the very centre of the round.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;The beef is won by Dick Martin!&rdquo; loudly proclaimed the referee.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Whoopee! Glory! Glory!&rdquo; The shout was from the lips of Bagley, and in an
-      instant he had stridden across to Dick with outstretched hand. &ldquo;Glory,
-      Glory! Dick!&rdquo; he exclaimed; &ldquo;le'me have a hold o' yore fist. Tell judgment
-      day I'm yore friend. I've said some sneakin' underhand things about you
-      that's hurt yore feelin's an' I want to ax yore pardon. Dang it! I cayn't
-      harbor no ill will agin a feller that's beat Abrum Lawson a-shootin'.
-      Thank goodness you've fetched his kingdom to a end!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      When down-fallen Lawson had slunk away unnoticed from the enthusiastic
-      crowd who were eager to congratulate Dick, Bagley came up to him and said:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Dick, le'me have the honor o' drivin' the prize home fur you. Fur some
-      reason ur other you didn't stay to supper with us corn-shuckin' night;
-      Melissa's a waitin' fur you out thar in the bresh to ax you to come home
-      with us to-night. By glory, Tobe,&rdquo; turning to Lawson's negro, &ldquo;this yer's
-      the same identical beef Lawson ordered you to drive home an' put in his
-      pastur', ain't it? Well, you jest tell 'im his friend Bagley tuk the job
-      off'n yore han's.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0022" id="linkimage-0022"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0105.jpg" alt="0105 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0105.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div style="height: 4em;">
-      <br /><br /><br /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h2>
-      MOERAN'S MOOSE&mdash;A HUNTING STORY, By Ed. W. Sandys.
-    </h2>
-    <p class="pfirst">
-      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">O</span>NE of the best
-      fellows among the hardy lot who have ran the trails and paddled the lonely
-      tributaries of the tipper Ottawa was Moeran. No bolder sportsman ever went
-      into the woods, and few, or none of the guides or professional hunters
-      could rival his skill with rifle or paddle. The tough old
-      &ldquo;Leatherstockings&rdquo; fairly idolized him, for he got his game as they did,
-      by straight shooting, perfect woodcraft, and honest hard work; and most of
-      them, while they usually charged a heavy price for their services, would
-      have gladly thrown in their lots with him for an outing of a month or
-      more, and asked nothing save what he considered a fair division of the
-      spoils. He was also a keen observer and a close student of the ways of
-      bird and beast. The real pleasure of sport seemed to him to lie in the
-      fact that it brought him very near to nature, and permitted him to pore at
-      will over that marvelous open page which all might read if they chose, yet
-      which few pause to study. His genial disposition and long experience made
-      him ever a welcome and valuable companion afield or afloat, and the
-      comrades he shot with season after season would have as soon gone into the
-      woods without their rifles as without Moeran. Physically, he was an
-      excellent type of the genuine sportsman. Straight and tall, and strongly
-      made, his powerful arms could make a paddle spring, if need be, or his
-      broad shoulders bear a canoe or pack over a portage that taxed even the
-      rugged guides; and his long limbs could cover ground in a fashion that
-      made the miles seem many and long to whoever tramped a day with him.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      And this was the kind of man that planned a trip for a party of four after
-      the lordly moose. Moeran had, until that year, never seen a wild moose
-      free in his own forest domain, and needless to say he was keenly anxious
-      to pay his respects to the great king of the Canadian wilderness. He had
-      been in the moose country many times while fishing or shooting in the
-      provinces of New Brunswick, Quebec, Ontario and Manitoba; he had seen the
-      slots of the huge deer about pool and stream, on beaver meadow and brule;
-      he had spent more than one September night &ldquo;calling,&rdquo; with a crafty Indian
-      to simulate the plaintive appeals of a love-lorn cow; he had heard the
-      great bulls answer from the distant hills&mdash;had heard even the low,
-      grunting inquiry a bull moose generally makes ere emerging from the last
-      few yards of shadowy cover, and revealing himself in all his mighty
-      strength and pride in the moonlit open. More than once he had lain
-      quivering with excitement and hardly daring to breathe, close-hidden in a
-      little clump of scrub, about which stretched full forty yards of level
-      grass on every side&mdash;lain so for an hour with every nerve strained to
-      the ready, with ears striving to catch the faintest sound on the stillness
-      of the night, and with eyes sweeping warily over the expanse of moonlit
-      grass and striving vainly to pierce the black borders of forest, somewhere
-      behind which his royal quarry was hidden. Upon such occasions he had lain
-      and listened and watched until he fancied he could see the moose standing
-      silently alert among the saplings, with ears shifting to and fro and with
-      keen nose searching the air ceaselessly for trace of his mortal enemy. The
-      occasional distant rattle of broad antlers against the trees as the big
-      brute shook himself or plunged about in lusty strength had sounded on his
-      ears, followed by the faint sounds of cautiously advancing footsteps
-      seemingly bent straight toward the ambush. Then would follow a long
-      agonizing pause, and then a snap of a twig or a faint rustling told that
-      the crafty bull was stealing in a circle through the cover around the open
-      space before venturing upon such dangerous ground.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0023" id="linkimage-0023"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0108.jpg" alt="0108 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0108.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      At last a deathlike silence for many minutes, and then a faint, far snap
-      of twigs and &ldquo;wish&rdquo; of straightening branches as the great bull stole away
-      to his forested hills, having read in breeze or on ground a warning of the
-      foe concealed in the harmless scrub. All these were disappointments, but
-      not necessarily bitter ones. The long night-vigils were after all rarely
-      spent entirely in vain, for each brought to him some new ideas, or let him
-      a little further into the dark mysteries of the great wild world's nightly
-      moods and methods. The skilled craft of his Indian &ldquo;caller;&rdquo; the strange
-      voices of the night that came to his ears, telling of the movements of
-      creatures but seldom seen or heard by day, were full of interest to a
-      genuine woodsman. And then the fierce though subdued excitement of the
-      weird watch for the huge beast that never came, and yet might come at any
-      moment full into the silvery moonlight from out the black belt of silent
-      wood&mdash;these were each fascinating to such a nature as his. But still
-      he had never once seen his long-looked-for game, though several seasons
-      had slipped away and the month of July, 18&mdash;&mdash;, had come and
-      half passed by. Then Moeran got ready his fishing tackle and camping gear
-      and vowed to find a good district for the party to shoot over the coming
-      season, even if he had to remain in the woods an entire month. Right well
-      he knew some of the likeliest points in New Brunswick, Quebec and
-      Manitoba, the eastern portion of the latter province being the best moose
-      country now available, but none of them met the requirements of the party,
-      and so he decided to go into northern Ontario and prospect until he found
-      what he sought.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      In the region of the upper Ottawa River, and in the wild lands about the
-      Mattawa River and about the lakes forming its headwaters, is a country
-      beloved of moose. Thither went Moe-ran, satisfied that his quest would not
-      be in vain. Early in the third week of July he and his Peterboro canoe and
-      outfit reached the railway station of North Bay, on the shore of noble
-      Lake Nipissing. While awaiting the arrival of the guide and team for the
-      next stage of his journey, he put rod together and strolled out on the
-      long pier which extends for a considerable distance into the lake.
-      Reaching the farther end and looking down into the clear, green depths
-      below, he saw watchful black bass skulking in the shadows, and lazy
-      pickerel drifting hither and thither, in and out, among the great piles
-      which supported the pier. To tempt a few of these to their doom was an
-      easy task, and soon the lithe rod was arching over a game black gladiator
-      and a master hand was meeting every desperate struggle of a fighting fish,
-      or slowly raising a varlet pickerel to his inglorious death. In time a
-      hail announced the arrival of the team, and after presenting his captives
-      to the few loungers on the pier, he busied himself stowing canoe and
-      outfit upon the wagon.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Their objective point was on the shore of Trout Lake, a lovely sheet of
-      water distant from Nipissing about four miles. The road was in many places
-      extremely bad and the team made slow progress, but there was plenty of
-      time to spare and about noon they reached the lake. The guide, as guides
-      are given to do, lied cheerfully and insistently every yard of the way,
-      about the beauty of the lake, the countless deer and grouse upon its
-      shores, the gigantic fish within its ice-cold depths, the game he, and
-      parties he had guided, had killed, and the fish they had caught. He did
-      well with these minor subjects, but when he touched upon moose and bear he
-      rose to the sublime, and lied with a wild abandon which made Moeran
-      seriously consider the advantage of upsetting the canoe later on and
-      quietly drowning him. But he was not so far astray in his description of
-      the lake. It formed a superb picture, stretching its narrow length for a
-      dozen miles between huge, rolling, magnificently wooded hills, while here
-      and there lovely islands spangled its silver breast. After a hurried lunch
-      they launched the good canoe, the guide insisting upon taking his rifle,
-      as, according to his story, they were almost certain to see one or more
-      bear. The guide proved that he could paddle almost as well as he could
-      lie, and the two of them drove the light craft along like a scared thing,
-      the paddles rising and falling, flashing and disappearing, with that
-      beautiful, smooth, regular sweep that only experts can give. For mile
-      after mile they sped along, until at last they neared the farther end of
-      the lake, where the huge hills dwindled to mere scattered mounds, between
-      which spread broad beaver meadows, the nearest of them having a pond
-      covering many acres near its center. All about this pond was a dense
-      growth of tall water-grasses, and in many places these grasses extended
-      far into the water which was almost covered, save a few open leads, with
-      the round, crowding leaves of the water-lily. A channel, broad and deep
-      enough to float the canoe, connected this pond with the lake, and, as the
-      locality was an ideal summer haunt for moose, Moeran decided to
-      investigate it thoroughly and read such &ldquo;sign&rdquo; as might be found. Landing
-      noiselessly, he and the guide changed places, Moeran kneeling, forward,
-      with the rifle on the bottom of the canoe in front of him, where he alone
-      could reach it. &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; he whispered, &ldquo;you know the route and how to
-      paddle; work her up as if a sound would cost your life. I'll do the
-      watching.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0024" id="linkimage-0024"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0112.jpg" alt="0112 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0112.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      Slowly, silently, foot by foot, and sometimes inch by inch, the canoe
-      stole up the currentless channel, the guide never raising his paddle, but
-      pushing with it cautiously against the soft bottom and lily-roots. It was
-      a good piece of canoe work, worthy even of Moeran's noted skill, and he
-      thoroughly appreciated it. By motions of his hand he indicated when to
-      halt and advance, while his eyes scanned sharply every yard of marsh
-      revealed by the windings of the channel. Not the slightest sound marked
-      their progress until they had almost entered the open water in the center
-      of the pond, and were creeping past the last fringe of tall grass.
-      Suddenly Moeran's hand signaled a halt, and the canoe lost its slow,
-      forward motion. He looked and looked, staring fixedly at a point some
-      twenty yards distant, where the growth of grass was thin and short and the
-      lily-pads denser than usual, and as he gazed with a strange concentration,
-      a wild light flashed in his eyes until they fairly blazed with exultant
-      triumph. Straight before him among the faded greens and bewildering browns
-      of the lily-pads was a motionless, elongated brown object very like the
-      curved back of a beaver, and a foot or more from it, in the shadow of a
-      clump of grass, something shone with a peculiar liquid gleam. It was an
-      eye&mdash;a great, round, wild eye&mdash;staring full into his own&mdash;the
-      eye of a moose&mdash;and the curving object like the back of a beaver was
-      naught else than the enormous nose, or muffle, of a full-grown bull.
-      Something like a sigh came from it, and then it slowly rose higher and
-      higher until the head and neck were exposed. The big ears pointed stiffly
-      forward, and the nose twitched and trembled for an instant as it caught
-      the dreaded taint; then with a mighty floundering and splashing the great
-      brute struggled to his feet. It was a grewsome spectacle to see this
-      uncouth creature uprise from a place where it seemed a muskrat could
-      hardly have hidden. For a few seconds he stood still.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0025" id="linkimage-0025"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0116.jpg" alt="0116 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0116.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Shoot! Shoot!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Moeran simply picked up the rifle and brought it level.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Load! 'Tain't loaded&mdash;the lever&mdash;quick!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      He made no response, merely covered, first the point of the shoulder and
-      then the ear, and then, as the bull plunged for the shore, he covered the
-      shoulder twice more, then lowered the rifle, while a horribly excited
-      guide cursed and raved and implored by turns in vain. And just how great
-      was the temptation was never known, but it certainly would have proved
-      irresistible to most men who call themselves sportsmen. In speaking about
-      it afterward Moeran said: &ldquo;It would have been a crime to have murdered the
-      beast under such conditions, and out of season. I covered him fair four
-      times, and could have dropped him dead where he stood&mdash;but we'll
-      attend to them later on.&rdquo; For there were, in all, four moose in the pond,
-      and, shortly after the big bull commenced his noisy retreat, a tremendous
-      splashing and plunging from the other side of the pond attracted their
-      attention. They turned just in time to see a grand old cow and two younger
-      moose struggle through the last few yards of mud and water, and then crash
-      their way into the cover at the rapid, pounding trot peculiar to the
-      species.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Moeran's mission had been accomplished much easier than was expected, and
-      he certainly had discovered a most promising locality for the trip with
-      his friends. After a day spent fishing, he departed homeward, leaving his
-      canoe and camp outfit in charge of the guide, whom he also bound by most
-      solemn pledge neither to betray the secret of the beaver meadow, nor to
-      molest the moose himself, before Moeran and his friends returned in time
-      for the first lawful day.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The last day of the close season saw the party and the guide snugly
-      encamped at a point half-way down the lake. His three friends had
-      unanimously agreed that Moeran should have the honor of visiting the
-      beaver meadow first, and alone if he desired. He was the surest shot and
-      by far the best hand at this sort of business, and he had discovered the
-      moose, while all hands knew how keen he was to secure a head to his own
-      rifle. So at earliest dawn Moeran put lunch and rifle into his shapely
-      Peterboro and sped noiselessly away through the ghostly vapors curtaining
-      the sleeping lake, and they saw him no more for many hours. The guide had
-      questioned the others about their comrade's shooting (of his ability at
-      the paddle he had somewhat sorrowful remembrance), and then, strange to
-      say, had advised Moeran to go alone.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;So much more glory for you,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and I'll look after these other
-      gentlemen and give them a day's fishing.&rdquo; But his manner was shifty, and
-      Moeran mistrusted him.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      In due time he reached the little channel leading to the beaver meadow,
-      and, as the sun lifted clear of the distant hills, he began working his
-      way to the pond. He hardly expected to find the moose there then, but he
-      had made up his mind to steal into the high grass and hide and watch all
-      day, if necessary, and, at all events, study the thing out thoroughly. As
-      the sun rose higher a brisk breeze sprang up, but as it came from the
-      woods toward his station he did not mind, although it would have been
-      fatal to his chance, probably, had it come from any other point of the
-      compass. Presently his nose detected a strong, sickening odor of carrion,
-      which, in time, as the breeze gained force, became almost overpowering,
-      and he started to investigate. Paddling straight up-wind he came at last
-      to a small pool, and the trouble was explained. The half-decomposed body
-      of a full-grown cow moose lay in the pool and Moeran muttered savagely his
-      opinion of all such butchery when he saw that not even the feet had been
-      taken for trophies. Then he poled his canoe to the edge of the meadow and
-      scouted carefully entirely round the open, seeking for any possible sign
-      of the remainder of the quartet. To his utter disgust he found the remains
-      of another moose, one of the younger animals, lying just within the
-      borders of the cover, and, as in the other case, the butcher had not
-      troubled himself to take away any portion of his victim. Moeran
-      understood, of course, that the guide had played him false, and if that
-      worthy had been present he might have seriously regretted his wrong-doing,
-      for he it was who had guided a learned and honorable (?) American judge to
-      the sanctuary of the moose a month previously, and, for a consideration of
-      twenty-five dollars, enabled his patron to gratify his taste for the
-      shambles.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Moeran's careful search discovered no fresh sign, and he made up his mind
-      that the two survivors, the old bull and the yearling, had fled the scene
-      and had probably sought another expanse of beaver meadow and ponds the
-      guide had mentioned as being about ten miles from Trout Lake. Moeran knew
-      that some sort of a trail led thither, and he resolved to find it and
-      follow it to the end and endeavor to locate the moose.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Of the ensuing long, hard day's work it will be unnecessary to speak in
-      detail.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      At nine o'clock that night his three friends sat near their roaring
-      camp-fire on the lake shore, wondering at his protracted absence. The
-      guide had turned in an hour previous, but the three were anxious, so they
-      sat and smoked, and discussed the question, piling great drift-logs on
-      their fire till it roared and cracked in fierce exultation and leaped high
-      in air to guide the wanderer home. Its long, crimson reflection stretched
-      like a pathway of flame far over the black waters of the lake, and the
-      three sat and waited, now glancing along this glowing path, anon
-      conversing in subdued tones. The lake was as still and dark as a lake of
-      pitch, and some way the three felt ill at ease, as though some evil
-      impended. At last the veteran of the trio broke a longer silence than
-      usual:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Boys, I don't like this. It's ten o'clock and he should have been back
-      long ago. I hope to Heaven&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      A touch on his arm from the man at his right caused him to glance quickly
-      lakeward.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Forty feet from them, drifting noiselessly into the firelight, was the
-      Peterboro, with Moeran kneeling as usual and sending the light craft
-      forward in some mysterious manner which required no perceptible movement
-      of the arms nor lifting of the paddle. It was a fine exhibition of his
-      skill to thus approach unheard three anxious, listening men on such a
-      night, for he had heard their voices good two miles away. His appearance
-      was so sudden, so ghostlike, that for a few seconds the party stared in
-      mute surprise at the forms of man and craft standing out in sharp relief
-      against the blackness of the night; then a whoop of delight welcomed him.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      He came ashore, swiftly picked up the canoe and turned it bottom upward on
-      the sand for the night, carried his rifle into camp, then approached the
-      fire and looked sharply round.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;The guide's asleep.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh, he is; &mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash; him!&rdquo; Then he flung himself down
-      on the sand. Something in his tone and manner warned his friends not to
-      talk, and they eyed him curiously. His face was white as death and drawn
-      with an expression of utter exhaustion, and marked with grimy lines,
-      showing where rivulets of sweat had trickled downward. As they looked, his
-      eyes closed; he was going to sleep as he lay.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Quietly the veteran busied himself getting food ready, and presently
-      roused the slumberer.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Here, old chap, have a nip and eat a bite. Why, you're dead beat. Where
-      on earth have you been?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      A strangely hollow voice answered:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;To the back lakes.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      His listeners whistled a combined long-drawn &ldquo;whew&rdquo; of amazement, for
-      right well they knew the leagues of toilsome travel this statement
-      implied.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;See anything?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Wounded the old bull badly, and trailed him from the lakes to within five
-      miles of here. That cur sleeping yonder sold us; but you hear me!&rdquo; he
-      exclaimed with sudden fierce energy, &ldquo;<i>I'll get that moose if I have to
-      stay in the woods forever!</i>&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The three looked at him in admiring silence, for they guessed that, in
-      spite of his terrible day's work, he intended starting again at daylight.
-      In a few moments he finished his meal and staggered to the tent, and fell
-      asleep as soon as he touched his blanket.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      When the party turned out next morning the canoe was gone, though the sun
-      was not yet clear, of the hills. After breakfast they started in quest of
-      grouse, working through the woods in the direction of the beaver meadows,
-      and finding plenty of birds. About ten o'clock they heard the distant
-      report of a rifle, followed in a few minutes by a second, and the veteran
-      exclaimed, &ldquo;That's him, for an even hundred, and he's got his moose, or
-      something strange has happened.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      At noon they returned to camp laden with grouse. No sign of the canoe as
-      yet, so they had dinner, and lounged about and fished during the
-      afternoon, casting many expectant glances down the lake for the laggard
-      canoe. Night fell, with still no sound or sign of the wanderer, and again
-      the camp-fire roared and flamed and sent its glowing reflection streaming
-      far over the black waste of water. And again the three sat waiting. At ten
-      o'clock the veteran rose and said, &ldquo;Keep a sharp lookout, boys, and don't
-      let him fool you again, and I'll get up a royal feed. He'll have
-      moose-meat in the canoe this time, for he said <i>he'd get that moose if
-      he had to stay in the woods forever</i>. He'll be dead beat, sure, for
-      he's probably dragged the head out with him.&rdquo; So they waited, piling the
-      fire high, and staring out over the lake for the first glimpse of the
-      canoe. Eleven o'clock and midnight came and went, and still no sign. Then
-      they piled the fire high for the last time and sought the tent. At the
-      door the veteran halted, and laying a hand on the shoulder of his chum,
-      drew him aside.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Why, whatever's the matter with you?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The old man's face wore a piteous expression, and his voice trembled as he
-      whispered:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Hush! Don't let <i>him</i> hear you&mdash;but there's something wrong.
-      Something horrible has happened&mdash;I feel it in my heart.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Nonsense, man! You're sleepy and nervous. He's all right. Why, he's just
-      cut himself a moose steak, and had a feed and laid down&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The sentence was never completed. A sound that caused both men to start
-      convulsively tore through the black stillness of the night. A horrible,
-      gurgling, demoniacal laugh came over the lake, and died away in fading
-      echoes among the hills. &ldquo;Woll-oll-all-ollow-wall-all-ollow!&rdquo; as though
-      some hideous fiend was laughing with his lips touching the water. They
-      knew what it was, for the loon's weird cry was perfectly familiar to them,
-      and they laughed too, but there was no mirth in their voices. Then one
-      sought the tent, but the veteran paced up and down upon the cold beach,
-      halting sometimes to replenish the fire or to stare out over the water,
-      until a pale light spread through the eastern sky. Then he too turned in
-      for a couple of hours of troubled, unrefreshing slumber.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The bright sunshine of an Indian summer's day brought a reaction and their
-      spirits rose wonderfully; but still the canoe tarried, and as the hours
-      wore away, the veteran grew moody again and the midday meal was a
-      melancholy affair. Early in the afternoon he exclaimed:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Boys, I tell you what it is: I can stand this no longer&mdash;something's
-      wrong, and we're going to paddle those two skiffs down to the beaver
-      meadow and find out what we can do, and we're going to start right now.
-      God forgive us if we have been idling here while we should have been
-      yonder!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Two in a boat they went, and the paddles never halted until the channel to
-      the beaver meadow was gained. Dividing forces, they circled in opposite
-      directions round the open, but only the taint of the long-dead moose
-      marked the spot. Then they fired three rifles in rapid succession and
-      listened anxiously, but only the rolling, bursting echoes of the woods
-      answered them.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Guide, where would he probably have gone?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Wa'al, he told you he'd run the old bull this way from the back lakes&mdash;thar's
-      another leetle mash a mile north of us; it's an awful mud-hole, and the
-      bull might possibly hev lit out fur thar. Enyhow, we'd best hunt the
-      closest spots first.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The picture of that marsh will haunt the memories of those three men until
-      their deaths. A few acres of muskeg, with broad reaches of sullen, black,
-      slimy water, its borders bottomless mud, covered with a loathsome green
-      scum, and a few pale-green, sickly-looking larches dotting the open&mdash;the
-      whole forming a repulsive blemish, like an ulcer, on the face of the
-      earth. All round rose a silent wall of noble evergreens, rising in massive
-      tiers upon the hills, with here and there a flame of gorgeous color where
-      the frost had touched perishable foliage. Overhead a hazy dome of dreamy
-      blue, with the sun smiling down through the gauzy curtains of the Indian
-      summer. Swinging in easy circles, high in air, were two ravens,
-      challenging each other in hollow tones, their orbits crossing and
-      recrossing as they narrowed in slow-descending spirals. &ldquo;Look, look at
-      him!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0026" id="linkimage-0026"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0124.jpg" alt="0124 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0124.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      One bird had stooped like a falling plummet, and now hung about fifty
-      yards above the farther bounds of the muskeg, beating the air with heavy,
-      sable pinions and croaking loudly to his mate above. Closing her wings,
-      she stooped with a whizzing rush to his level, and there the two hung
-      flapping side by side, their broad wings sometimes striking sharply
-      against each other, their hoarse, guttural notes sounding at intervals. A
-      nameless horror seized the men as they looked. Their hunter's instinct
-      told them that death lay below those flapping birds, and with one impulse
-      they hurried round on the firmer ground to the ill-omened spot.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The veteran, white-faced but active as a lad, tore his way through the
-      bordering cover first, halted and stared for an instant, then dropped his
-      rifle in the mud, threw up his hands and exclaimed in an agonized voice:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh, my God, my God!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      One by one they crashed through the brush and joined him, and stood
-      staring. No need for questions. Ten square yards of deep-trodden, reeking
-      mud and crushed grass, a trampled cap, and here and there a rag of brown
-      duck; a silver-mounted flask shining in a little pool of bloody water; a
-      stockless rifle-barrel, bent and soiled, sticking upright; beyond all a
-      huge, hairy body, and below it a suggestion of another body and a
-      blood-stained face, that even through its terrible disfigurement seemed to
-      scowl with grim determination. Throwing off their coats, they dragged the
-      dead moose aside and strove to raise Moeran's body, but in vain. Something
-      held it; the right leg was broken and they found the foot fast fixed in a
-      forked root the treacherous slime had concealed. In the right hand was
-      firmly clutched the haft of his hunting knife, and in the moose's throat
-      was the broken blade. The veteran almost smiled through his tears as they
-      worked to loosen the prisoned foot, and muttered, &ldquo;Caught like a bear in a
-      trap; he'd have held his own with a fair chance.&rdquo; Carrying the poor,
-      stamped, crushed body to the shade, they laid it upon the moss and
-      returned to read the story of the fearful battle. To their hunter's eyes
-      it read as plainly as printed page. The great bull, sore from his previous
-      wound, had sought the swamp. Moeran had trailed him to the edge and
-      knocked him down the first shot, and after reloading had run forward to
-      bleed his prize. Just as he got within reach the bull had struggled up and
-      charged, and Moeran had shot him through the second time. Then he had
-      apparently dodged about in the sticky mud and struck the bull terrific
-      blows with the clubbed rifle, breaking the stock and bending the barrel,
-      and getting struck himself repeatedly by the terrible forefeet of the
-      enraged brute. To and fro, with ragged clothes and torn flesh, he had
-      dodged, the deadly muskeg behind and on either side, the furious bull
-      holding the only path to the saving woods. At last he had entrapped his
-      foot in the forked root, and the bull had rushed in and beaten him down,
-      and as he fell he struck with his knife ere the tremendous weight crushed
-      out his life. The veteran picked up the rifle-barrel, swept it through a
-      pool and examined the action, and found a shell jammed fast.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      In despairing voice he said, &ldquo;Oh, boys, boys, if that shell had but come
-      into place our friend had won the day, but he died like the noble fellow
-      he was!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      With rifles and coats they made a stretcher and carried him sadly out to
-      the lake.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;<i>He would get that moose, or stay in the woods forever!</i>&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div style="height: 4em;">
-      <br /><br /><br /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h2>
-      THE MYSTERY OF A CHRISTMAS HUNT, By Talbot Torrance
-    </h2>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0027" id="linkimage-0027"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="figleft" style="width:20%;">
-      <img src="images/9129.jpg" alt="9129 " width="100%" /><br /><a
-      href="images/9129.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </div>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Clug!&rdquo; The wad went home in the last shell, and as I removed it from the
-      loader and finished the fill of my belt I heaved a sigh of profound relief
-      at the completion of a troublesome job.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I hate making cartridges. Perhaps I am a novice, and have not a good kit,
-      and am lazy, and clumsy, and impatient, and&mdash;&mdash; But go on and
-      account for it yourself at greater length, if you will, my friends; only
-      accept my solemn statement that I detest the operation, which, I am
-      convinced, ought to be confined to able-bodied colored men with
-      perseverance and pachydermatous knuckles.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      An ordinary man is always in fluster and fever before he completes loading
-      up for a day's gunning. His patent plugger becomes inexplicably and
-      painfully fractious; his percussions are misfits; his No. 10 wads prove to
-      be No. 12s; his shot sack is sure to spill; his canister is certain to
-      sustain a dump into the water pail, and, when he begins to reflect on all
-      the unmentionable <i>lapsi linguæ</i> of which his numerous vexations are
-      the immediately exciting, though possibly not the responsible, cause, he
-      is apt to conclude that, say what you may in favor of the breechloader,
-      there are a certain few points which commend the old-time muzzle-loader,
-      especially when it comes around to charging a shell.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0028" id="linkimage-0028"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0130.jpg" alt="0130 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0130.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      At all events, that is the kind of man I now am; and if the reader is not
-      prepared to absolutely indorse me all through these crotchety cogitations,
-      may I not hope he will at least bear with me patiently and give me time to
-      outgrow it, if possible? But, as I was saying, I have charged up and am
-      ready to sally forth and join the hunting party of the Blankville Gun
-      Club, who had organized a match for Christmas Eve, a bright, nippy day of
-      &ldquo;an open winter&rdquo;&mdash;as experienced in Northeastern Ontario, at any
-      rate. I don my game bag, strap on my belt, pick up my newly-bought
-      hammerless and prepare to leave the house. My cocker Charlie, long since
-      cognizant of what my preparations meant, is at heel.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      There is a wild light in his eyes, but, self-contained animal that he is,
-      not a yelp, whine or even tail wag is manifested to detract from his
-      native dignity and self possession. &ldquo;Native&rdquo; dignity? Aye! My dog boasts
-      it naturally; and yet, at the same time, I fancy the switch and I have had
-      something to do in developing it and teaching the pup its apparently
-      unconscious display.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0029" id="linkimage-0029"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0136.jpg" alt="0136 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0136.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You're no fool dog, are you, Charlie? You're no funny, festive,
-      frolicsome dog, who cannot hold himself in when a run is on the programme&mdash;eh,
-      boy?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The silky-coated canine knows as well as I do that he is in for an
-      afternoon a-wood. He has the inclination to leap and roll and essay to
-      jump out of his hide. Yet the only answer he dare give to the inquiry is
-      an appealing glance from his hazel orbs up at his master's immovable face.
-      Yes, my dog Charlie is sober and sensible, and I am proud of these
-      characteristics and their usefulness to me before the gun.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0030" id="linkimage-0030"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0134.jpg" alt="0134 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0134.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Good-bye, little woman!&rdquo; I sing out cheerily to my wife as I pass down
-      the hall. She comes to the door to see me off. Sometimes, perhaps, a man
-      will find his adieu on an occasion of this kind responded to uncordially,
-      not to say frigidly, or perhaps not at all. But he must not grieve deeply
-      over it or let it act as an excitative of his mean moroseness or angry
-      passion. Think the thing all over. You are to be far away from home. Why
-      should not the thought of the vacant chair&mdash;next to that of the
-      demonstrative and exacting baby at meal time&mdash;rise up and sadden your
-      wife? Can you wonder at her distant bearing as she foresees how she will
-      sigh &ldquo;for the touch of a vanished hand&rdquo;&mdash;on the coal scuttle and
-      water pail? Of course, she will &ldquo;miss your welcome footsteps&rdquo;&mdash;carrying
-      in kindlings, and the &ldquo;dear, familiar voice&rdquo;&mdash;calling up the
-      chickens. And so you cannot in reason expect her invariably to answer your
-      kindly <i>adios</i> in a gladsome, gleesome, wholly satisfied sort of way.
-      But never you go away without the goodbye on your part&mdash;the honest,
-      manly, loving-toned good-bye that will ring in her ears in your absence
-      and cause her to fancy that perhaps you are not such a selfish old bear
-      after all.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      With some of us men&mdash;only a limited few, of course, and we are not
-      inclined to think over and enumerate them&mdash;it is unhappily the case
-      that
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br />
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      We have cheerful words for the stranger,
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      And smiles for the sometime guest;
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      But oft for our own the bitter tone,
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      Though we love our own the best.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br />
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;will miss your welcome footsteps.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0031" id="linkimage-0031"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0134.jpg" alt="0134 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0134.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      Now, if such men only thought
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      How many go forth in the morning,
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      Who never come back at night!
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      And hearts are broken for harsh words spoken,
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      Which time may never set right,
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br />
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      what a different atmosphere might permeate the domicile on &ldquo;first days,&rdquo;
-       to say nothing of the rest of the time!
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The real fact of the matter is, men and brothers, we do not accurately
-      appreciate the objections which the domestic partners may entertain
-      against our occasional outings. For my part I verily believe they are
-      largely, if not entirely, prompted by the feeling that
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br />
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      There's nae luck aboot the hoose,
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      There's nae luck at a'!
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      There's nae luck about the hoose,
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      Since oor guid mon's avva'.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br />
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      And here we go on thinking it is purely a matter of petty petulance and
-      small selfishness on their part! Come, gentlemen, let us once and for all
-      rightly appreciate the situation and resolve to do better in the future!
-      But let us return to our sheep. My hand is on the door knob, when,
-      pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat, is heard the tread of tiny feet. It is Ted, my
-      little two year old, coming to say good-bye to papa. I take him up and
-      sing gaily:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br />
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent20">
-      Bye, baby bunting,
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent20">
-      Papa goes a-hunting,
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent20">
-      To get a little rabbit skin
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent20">
-      To wrap the baby bunting in.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br />
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      How the little man crows and gurgles in glee! Then he grows demonstrative
-      and he wants to take off my cap. He makes a grab at my game bag. As I put
-      him down gently he tries to disarm me and possess himself of the gun.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I say, what an awful bother about the house of the sportsman is the
-      toddling tot of a baby! He is always getting hold of your gun swab for a
-      fish pole or to bang the dog about. Putting holes in your fish basket with
-      a big nail or a table knife is a supreme source of delight to him. He has
-      a mania for planting carpet tacks in your hunting boots. Making
-      smokestacks for mud houses with your brass shells is a passion with him.
-      If he can get hold of your ammunition to make paste of the powder, and
-      pulp of the wads, and a hopeless mixture of the shot, he is simply in his
-      element. Give him possession of your lines and access to your fly book and
-      he enjoys an hour of what is, to him, immense fun, but to you pronounced
-      and positive destruction.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      And yet&mdash;you wouldn't be without, that self-same baby if to keep him
-      cost you every shooting iron and foot of tackle you ever owned or hoped to
-      own, and at the same time destroyed the prospect of you ever again having
-      a &ldquo;day out&rdquo; on this rare old earth of ours.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      It is quite safe to say that the article for which you would exchange that
-      merry, mischievous toddler of yours, who clasps your brown neck with
-      little white, soft arms and presses a sweet baby kiss to your bristled
-      lips, as he sees you off on an outing, has not now an existence&mdash;and
-      you do not seem to exactly remember when it had. And you do not care
-      whether he destroys your possessions; they can be replaced.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Yes, indeed! Even you, most inveterate and selfish and calloused votary of
-      the chase&mdash;you have a tender spot in your hard old heart for the baby
-      boy. He may not be all that is orderly, obedient, non-combatable,
-      non-destructive, but still we all love him! Not one of us, at all events,
-      but will frankly admit that we respect him&mdash;for his father's sake.
-      Need anything more be said?
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      And do not we also respect those who depict him in tenderness and
-      affection?
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Don't we think all the more of Scanlon the actor for his inimitable
-      &ldquo;Peek-a-boo?&rdquo; and of Charles Mackay for his &ldquo;Baby Mine?&rdquo; and of Bret Harte
-      for his &ldquo;Luck of Roaring Camp?&rdquo; and of Dickens&mdash;wasn't it Dickens who
-      wrote:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br />
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      When the lessons and tasks all are ended,
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      And the school for the day is dismissed,
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      And the little ones gather around me
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      To bid me good-bye and be kissed.
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      Oh, the little, white arms that encircle
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      My neck in a tender embrace!
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      Oh, the smiles that are halos of Heaven
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      Shedding light in a desolate place!
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br />
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Has it ever occurred to you, my friend, that the baby is the same
-      unchanged, unimproved article since the world began? Men are making
-      smokeless powder, constructing pneumatic bicycle tires, inventing
-      long-distance guns, training horses down to two minutes, getting sprinters
-      to cover 100 yards close to nine seconds&mdash;revolutionizing everything,
-      but leaving the baby the old-time brand!
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      People seem satisfied with the original make, and far from any movement to
-      abolish it as out of date. The sentiment would appear to be pretty
-      universal:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br />
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      Drear were the world without a child,
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      Where happy infant never smiled.
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      We sooner could the flowerets spare,
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      The tender bud and blossom fair,
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      Or breath of spring time in the air.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br />
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I have said &ldquo;bye-bye&rdquo; to my tiny Ted half a dozen times and at last am
-      about to escape during his sudden flight to another part of the house,
-      when I am arrested by the eager cry, half in inquiry, half in jubilation,
-      &ldquo;Baby barlo! Papa, baby barlo! Dee!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      There he stands, holding up my little patent flask as though he had made a
-      wonderful discovery. To humor the child I took the little companion, said
-      &ldquo;Ta-ta,&rdquo; and was in the act of slipping it back to my wife, when I decided
-      to keep it. I am not partial to the cup that cheers and also inebriates,
-      and yet I have an appreciation of the pocket pistol that warms, sustains
-      and heartens in a long tramp on a zero afternoon with only a dog for
-      companionship and the chances of bagging anything much reduced to a
-      minimum. I stepped to the sideboard and filled the &ldquo;barlo&rdquo; <i>quantum suff</i>.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Ah, Scrib! You're early on deck&rdquo; was the grunting of the Doc. &ldquo;None of
-      the others are here yet. But I guess we'll not have long to wait. There is
-      surely no laggard or lunkhead in our jolly sextette. On such an occasion
-      as a Christmas Eve hunt, with an oyster supper at stake, the resources of
-      our whole happy hunting grounds on trial, and the pluck and prowess of six
-      rival sports in question there should certainly be no such word as
-      'funk!&rdquo;'
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Even as the Doc spoke Tinker dropped in. Hardly was he seated when Shy
-      puffed his way into the little smoking room. We waited five minutes for
-      the Judge, and had become impatient before Budge put in an appearance.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      What an assortment of unique nomenclature! Gun-club designations they
-      were, of course. In polite society &ldquo;Scrib&rdquo; was the village editor;
-      &ldquo;Tinker&rdquo; was our general store keeper; &ldquo;The Judge&rdquo; was young Lawyer B&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;;
-      &ldquo;Budge&rdquo; was mine host of the Queen's Arms, and the &ldquo;Doc&rdquo; was just the
-      doctor&mdash;our large-hearted, clever, hard-working local M. D., the life
-      and soul of the sport-loving community, as he was also the idol of the
-      village and district for his skill, his unselfishness and his unvarying <i>bonhomie</i>.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Budge!&rdquo; exclaims the Doc. &ldquo;As president of this club I fine you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I rise to a point of order!&rdquo; breaks in the Judge. &ldquo;This meeting is not
-      yet duly open, and, at all events, this is a special one, and business of
-      the regular order must be excluded. Referring to the constitution&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh, to thunder with the constitution! Let us get off on our hunt!&rdquo; And
-      Tinker looks annihilation at the order pointer.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Well, well, fellows,&rdquo; laughs the Doc, &ldquo;I shall rule partially in favor of
-      both. I shall rule that Budge do tell us his latest joke as a penalty.
-      Come now, prisoner, out with it and save your fine!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Say, boys,&rdquo; begins Budge, deprecatingly, &ldquo;don't insist. I'm sorry I was
-      late, but the fact is I was giving elaborate orders for the supper, which
-      I know it will be just my luck to get stuck for. One of my special orders
-      was to secure a magnificent roast and have it cooked in Ben Jonson style.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Ben Jonson style? How is that?&rdquo; queries the Doc.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;'O, rare Ben Jonson!' There, Mr. President,&rdquo; he adds, when the laugh
-      ceases, &ldquo;I believe that debt is squared.&rdquo; We have made out our list and
-      fixed points, ranging from chipmunk, 1, to bear, 1,000.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You leave out quail, I notice. Now that is an omission which&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      But the Judge is cut short on all sides.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Out in the wild and woolly West, from whence you have but recently
-      emigrated to civilization and refinement,&rdquo; remarks the Doc, &ldquo;quail are
-      about as plentiful as hedge sparrows are here. But a quail has not been
-      seen in this section for ten years, I'll venture to say. No, Judge, we
-      needn't point on quail this time!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;And yet,&rdquo; I observe in an encouraging tone, &ldquo;who knows but we may each
-      and all happen on a covey.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;That is extravagant. But if any man should be lucky enough to bag a
-      brace, that I may enjoy one more good square meal of quail on toast, I'll
-      stand the supper.&rdquo; And the Judge looked straight at Budge.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Now that is what I would call extravagant&mdash;supper for a whole party
-      in consideration of a dish of quail on toast. Suppose you yourself should
-      bag the brace. But this reminds me of the man who ordered quail on toast
-      in a Boston restaurant. He was brought in some toast. He waited a while.
-      Presently he called the waiter and repeated the order. 'There you are,
-      sir!' answered Thomas. 'That? That is toast, of course; but where's the
-      quail?' The waiter pointed to a small speck in the centre of each slice,
-      looking like a baked fly. 'Ah! so this dish is quail on toast, is it?'
-      'Yes, sir!' 'Then you just remove it and bring me turkey on toast!'&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      We draw lots for choice of directions, and fix 8 p. m. sharp for
-      reassembling to compare scores. My choice fell on a due north course,
-      along which, seven miles distant, lay cover where I had scarcely ever
-      failed to find at least fair sport and to take game, such as it was. And I
-      went it alone&mdash;barring my dog.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0032" id="linkimage-0032"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0142.jpg" alt="0142 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0142.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      Seven miles of hard footing it and I had only the brush of a couple of red
-      squirrels, the wing of a chicken hawk, and the lean carcass of a small
-      rabbit to show. I had sighted a fox far out of range, and had been taken
-      unawares by a brace of birds which Charlie had nobly flushed and I had
-      shockingly muffed.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The dog had followed the birds deeper into the wood, leaving me angry and
-      uncertain what to do. Suddenly I heard his yelp of rage and disappointment
-      give place to his business bark, and I knew my pup had a tree for me. It
-      was a sound not to be mistaken. My dog never now plays spoof with me by
-      tonguing a tree for hair. His business bark means partridge every time. I
-      hurried on as the dog gave tongue more sharp and peremptory, taking a
-      skirt to avoid a tangled piece of underbrush as I began-to approach the
-      critical spot.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The ruins of an old shanty lay fifty yards to my left, and between them
-      and me was a sort of <i>cache</i> or root cellar, the sides intact but the
-      roof half gone.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      All of a sudden there broke on my ear a sound I had not heard for many a
-      day.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I listened, almost dumfounded. There it is again! And no mistaking it. It
-      is the pipe of a quail!
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      It came from a patch of meadow not many rods off, and it set every nerve
-      in my body a-tingling. Charlie and his partridges were out of mind
-      instanter. I had no manner of use for them at that supreme moment.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;It's no stray bird!&rdquo; I mentally ejaculated. &ldquo;Perhaps it's a regular
-      Kansas covey!&rdquo; Heavens, what luck! The boys&mdash;the Judge&mdash;quail on
-      toast&mdash;the laugh&mdash;the amazement&mdash;the consternation&mdash;I
-      conjured all these things up in my excited brain in less time than it
-      takes to tell it.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I started forward with every fibre a-tension. I was wild to get even a
-      glimpse of the little strangers.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0033" id="linkimage-0033"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0144.jpg" alt="0144 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0144.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      Suddenly&mdash;enough almost to puzzle me&mdash;the pipe was answered from
-      the mouth of the old potato pit, and the next instant &ldquo;whir-r-r-r!&rdquo; rose
-      the birds, and &ldquo;bang! bang!&rdquo; I gave them right and left at a range and
-      with a calculation that left three only to join and tell the tale to the
-      whistler in the meadow. Seven was the drop, and the birds were as plump
-      and pretty as ever I had set eyes on. I fairly chuckled aloud in glee at
-      the surprise I had in store for my club mates. I sat down, took a
-      congratulatory nip, and actually toyed with the quail as a boy would with
-      the first fruits of his initial day's outing with his own boughten gun!
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      My faithful dog Charlie had during this time stuck to his birds. I could
-      hear his angry bark growing angrier, and I could detect, as I fancied, a
-      shade of impatience and disappointment therein. A crack at a partridge
-      will be a change, I thought, and so I hurried in Charlie's direction.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      There he sat on a rotten stump, with eyes fixed on the brushy top of a
-      dead pine.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I looked that top over, limb by limb, but not a sign of a feather could I
-      detect. I made a circuit, and skinned every twig aloft in a vain endeavor
-      to discover a roosting bird. I began to think the pup was daft, but I
-      dismissed the reflection promptly as ungenerous and unfair to my trusty
-      cocker. I make solemn affidavit that, though I could not note the
-      suggestion of a partridge up that pine, my spaniel could see it as plain
-      as a pike staff.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I'll climb the stump!&rdquo; said I. <i>Mirabile dictu!</i> There, on lower
-      limbs, one above the other and hugging the bark so close that they seemed
-      part of it, were my missed brace!
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Bang!&rdquo; and the topmost tumbles, nearly knocking his mate off as he falls.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Bang!&rdquo; and down comes No. 2.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0034" id="linkimage-0034"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="figright" style="width:20%;">
-      <img src="images/8146.jpg" alt="8146 " width="100%" /><br /><a
-      href="images/8146.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </div>
-    <p>
-      Charlie manifests a sense of relieved anxiety and satisfaction that of
-      itself rewards me for the perplexing search.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      But a drowsiness had been creeping over me till its influence had become
-      almost irresistible. I felt stupid and sleep-inclined.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Almost without knowing what I did I pulled out my flask, poured &ldquo;just a
-      nip&rdquo; a fair portion in the cup and drank it off. The twilight was coming
-      on and casting its sombre shadows, <i>avant coureurs</i> of the black
-      winter night that was soon to envelop the scene for a brief while, till
-      fair Luna lit up the heavens and chased Darkness to its gloomy lair.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I have an indistinct recollection of recalling lines I have read somewhere
-      or other:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br />
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      When Life's last sun is sinking slow and sad,
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent20">
-      How cold and dark its lengthened shadows
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent30">
-      fall.
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent20">
-      They lie extended on the straightened path
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent20">
-      Whose narrow close, the grave, must end it
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent30">
-      all.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br />
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      Oh, Life so grudging in your gifts, redeem
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent20">
-      By one great boon the losses of the Past!
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      Grant me a full imperishable Faith,
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent20">
-      And let the Light be with me till the last.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br />
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Then all became a blank!
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Full? I never knew him to more than taste liquor. No, no! You're
-      mistaken. He has either been knocked senseless by some accident or
-      mischance, or else he has fallen in a fit.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      It was the Doc who spoke. I suddenly grew seized of consciousness to the
-      extent of recognizing my old friend's voice. But to indicate the fact
-      physically was impossible. I lay in a sort of trance, with lips that would
-      not open and hands that would not obey.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh, all right, Doc! You ought to know!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      This time I caught the voice of the Judge.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;But he is in a pitiable plight. We must get to him and move him or he may
-      perhaps perish, if he's not gone now. Drat that dog! I don't want to shoot
-      him; and yet he'll tear us if we try to lay hand on his master. But lay
-      hand on him we must. Is it a go, Doc?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;It's the only alternative, Judge. I like canine fidelity; but hang me if
-      this brute doesn't suit too well! We'll have to get him out of the way and
-      succor the man. Give it to him, Judge!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Stop!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      By a superhuman effort, through some agency I never could account for, I
-      managed to utter that one word in a sort of half expostulatory, half
-      authoritative tone, or rather groan.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0035" id="linkimage-0035"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0148.jpg" alt="0148 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0148.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      It broke the spell.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      My eyes opened. My arms regained power. Instinctively I reached out a hand
-      and drew my canine guardian toward me, placing a cheek against his cold,
-      moist nose. That was enough for Charlie. The faithful brute grew wild with
-      joy. He barked, whined, jumped, capered, pirouetted after his own stump,
-      and, in a word, did the most tremendous despite to all my careful training
-      in the line of reserved and dignified demeanor.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I rose to a sitting posture and finally drew myself up on my feet, gazing
-      around me in a bewildered, uncertain sort of way.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Hello, boys, what's the matter?&rdquo; I managed to articulate.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Hello, and what's the matter yourself?&rdquo; replied the Doc.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yes, that's precisely what we came out here to know,&rdquo; put in the Judge.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I guess&mdash;I think&mdash;yes, let me see!&mdash;I believe I&mdash;I&mdash;must
-      have dropped off in a little doze, boys! Very kind of you to look me up.
-      Only&mdash;say, you never surely meant to shoot my dog? I'd have haunted
-      both of you to your respective dying days if you had, supposing I was a
-      cold corpse instead of a man taking a little nap.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Taking a little nap! Hear him! I should rather say you were. But, look
-      here, Scrib, do your little naps always mean two or three hours of the
-      soundest sleep a man ever slept who wasn't dead or drugged?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Dead or drugged, Doc? Pshaw, you're away off. You can see for yourself I
-      am not dead, and I can vow I wasn't drugged.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Then you've been intoxicated, by George; and as president of the
-      Blank-ville Gun Club I'll fine you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Quail, as I live!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;One&mdash;two&mdash;three; three brace and a half, Doc, and beauties,
-      too! It does my heart good to handle the darlings. Doc, if Scrib has been
-      full forty times to-day, he has more than atoned for the <i>lapsi</i> with
-      this glorious bag. Whoop! Ya, ha! There'll be quail on toast for the whole
-      party.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      By the time the Judge's jubilation had ceased I had about regained my
-      normal condition and we were ready to make tracks homeward.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The clock strikes the midnight hour as I re-enter my own home. My wife
-      sits rocking the cradle, in which lies our darling Ted. She turns a
-      weary-looking, tear-stained face to me.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Its all right, dear,&rdquo; I gently remark, &ldquo;I'm quite safe, as you see.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I haven't the slightest doubt of it, sir,&rdquo; she returns, icily. &ldquo;It's not
-      of you I've been thinking, but of baby.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Baby,&rdquo; I repeat inquiringly. &ldquo;What is the matter with him?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;There is nothing the matter with him, but there is no telling what might
-      have been. And all owing to your foolish indulgence of his fancy for
-      bottles.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What does it mean, dear?&rdquo; I venture. &ldquo;It means that you had not been gone
-      an hour when I found Ted with that little two-ounce phial you left half
-      filled with laudanum on the lower pantry shelf yesterday. He had evidently
-      climbed a chair and reached it down. The cork was out and the bottle was
-      empty. You can perhaps imagine my feelings. I didn't know whether he had
-      taken the stuff or not, but was in an agony of anxiety on the point, you
-      may be sure. The doctor was away hunting, you were away hunting, and here
-      was I fairly consumed with apprehension lest my baby had poisoned
-      himself.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Like a flash the whole mystery of my stupor sleep revealed itself to me.
-      &ldquo;Baby barlo&rdquo;&mdash;flask&mdash;laudanum phial&mdash;whiskey&mdash;it was
-      all as clear as day.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I said: &ldquo;But it transpires he hadn't taken any of the laudanum, eh?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yes, thank Heaven! But for all of you&mdash;&mdash;-&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Listen, please. All I want to say is that what Ted missed I got. Do you
-      understand?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Do <i>I</i> understand! Are <i>you</i> in your sane and sober senses,
-      William?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I have a shrewd suspicion that I am,&rdquo; I replied, with a slight laugh,
-      &ldquo;and being so, I will repeat it: Baby didn't down the poison; but I guess
-      I made up for that, because <i>I did!</i>&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Then I told her the story.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Of course I gained my point. It ended with&mdash;&mdash; but, no matter.
-      The Judge stood the supper in consideration of quail on toast being
-      incorporated in the menu, and we sat around the festive board in the
-      Queen's Arms a week later, and talked over our Xmas Eve hunting match. No
-      one was disposed to question the sentiment in a speech by the Doc, who
-      declared: &ldquo;Fellows, our prowess as a gun club is growing, and I verily
-      believe the old district is getting to be once more something like a
-      half-decent hunting ground. Let us keep together, be as men and brothers
-      always, and&mdash;I was nearly overlooking it&mdash;let us invariably wash
-      out our pocket pistols before filling 'em up afresh.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div style="height: 4em;">
-      <br /><br /><br /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h2>
-      HERNE THE HUNTER, By William Perry Brown
-    </h2>
-    <p class="pfirst">
-      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">H</span>erne the Hunter
-      was tall, brown and grizzled. The extreme roundness of his shoulders
-      indicated strength rather than infirmity, while the severing of his great
-      neck at a blow would have made a feudal executioner famous in his craft.
-      An imaginative man might have divined something comely beneath the complex
-      conjunction of lines and ridges that made up his features, but it would
-      have been more by suggestion, however, than by any actual resemblance to
-      beauty traceable thereon. The imprint of strength, severity and endurance
-      was intensified by an open contempt of appearance; only to a subtle
-      second-sight was revealed aught nobler, sweeter and sadder, like faint
-      stars twinkling behind filmy clouds.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Some town-bred Nimrod, with a misty Shakespearean memory, had added to his
-      former patronymic of &ldquo;Old Herne&rdquo; that of Windsor's ghostly visitor. The
-      mountaineers saw the fitness of the title, and &ldquo;Herne the Hunter&rdquo; became
-      widely current.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      His place of abode was as ambiguous as his history, being somewhere beyond
-      the &ldquo;Dismal,&rdquo; amid the upper caves and gorges of the Nantahalah. The
-      Dismal was a weird, wild region of brake and laurel, walled in by lonely
-      mountains, with a gruesome outlet between two great cliffs, that nearly
-      met in mid-air hundreds of feet over a sepulchral Canyon, boulder-strewn,
-      and thrashed by a sullen torrent, that led from a dolorous labyrinth,
-      gloomy at midday, and at night resonant with fierce voices and sad
-      sighings.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Far down in Whippoorwill Cove, the mountaineers told savage tales of
-      adventure about the outskirts of the Dismal, yet, beyond trapping round
-      the edges or driving for deer, it was to a great extent a <i>terra
-      incognita</i> to all, unless Herne the Hunter was excepted.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;The devil air in the man, 'nd hopes him out'n places no hones' soul keers
-      to pester hisse'f long of.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      This was common opinion, though a few averred that &ldquo;Old Herne 'nd the
-      devil wern't so master thick atter all.&rdquo; Said one: &ldquo;Why, the dinged old
-      fool totes his Bible eroun' ez riglar ez he do his huntin'-shirt. Onct
-      when the parson wuz holdin' the big August meetin' down ter Ebeneezer
-      Meetin'-house, he stepped in. The meetin' was a gittin' ez cold ez hen's
-      feet, 'nd everybody a lookin' at Herne the Hunter, when down he draps onto
-      his knees, 'nd holdin' on by his rifle he 'gun ter pray like a house
-      afire. Wal, he prayed 'nd he prayed, 'twel the people, arter thur skeer
-      wuz over, 'gun ter pray 'nd shout too, 'nd fust they all knowed, the front
-      bench wuz plum full of mou'ners. Wal, they hed a hog-killin' time fur a
-      while, 'nd all sot on by Herne the Hunter, but when they quieted down 'nd
-      begun ter luk fer him&mdash;by jing!&mdash;he wern't thar. Nobody hed seed
-      him get erway, 'nd that set 'em ter thinkin', 'nd the yupshot wuz they hed
-      the bes' meetin' old Ebeneezer hed seed in many a year.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Once a belated hunter discovered, when the fog came down, that he was lost
-      amid the upper gorges of the Nantahalahs. While searching for some cranny
-      wherein to pass the night, he heard a voice seemingly in mid-air before
-      him, far out over an abyss of seething vapor which he feared concealed a
-      portion of the dreaded Dismal. Memories of Herne the Hunter crowded upon
-      him, and he strove to retrace his steps, but fell into a trail that led
-      him to a cave which seemed to bar his further way. The voice came nearer;
-      his blood chilled as he distinguished imprecations, prayers and entreaties
-      chaotically mingled, and all the while approaching him. He fled into the
-      cave, and peering thence, beheld a shadowy form loom through the mist,
-      gesticulating as it came.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      A whiff blew aside shreds of the fog, and he saw Herne the Hunter on the
-      verge of a dizzy cliff, shaking his long rifle, his hair disheveled, his
-      eyes dry and fiery, and his huge frame convulsed by the emotions that
-      dominated him. The very fury and pathos of his passion were terrifying,
-      and the watcher shrank back as old Herne, suddenly dropping his rifle,
-      clutched at the empty air, then paused dejectedly.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Always thus!&rdquo; he said, in a tone of deep melancholy. &ldquo;Divine in form&mdash;transfigured&mdash;beautiful&mdash;oh,
-      so beautiful!&mdash;yet ever with the same accursed face. I have prayed
-      over these visitations. I, have sought in God's word that confirmation of
-      my hope which should yet save me from despair; but, when rising from my
-      supplications, the blest vision confronts me&mdash;the curse is ever there&mdash;thwarting
-      its loveliness&mdash;reminding me of what was, but will never be again.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      He drew a tattered Bible from his bosom and searched it intently. He was a
-      sight at once forbidding and piteous, as he stood with wind-fluttered
-      garments, his foot upon the edge of a frightful precipice, his head bent
-      over the book as though devouring with his eyes some sacred antidote
-      against the potency of his sorrow. Then he looked up, and the Bible fell
-      from his hands. His eyes became fixed; he again clutched at the air, then
-      fell back with a despairing gesture, averting his face the while.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Out of my sight!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Your eyes are lightning, and your smile is
-      death. I will have no more of you&mdash;no more! And yet&mdash;O God! O
-      God!&mdash;what dare I&mdash;what can I do without you?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      He staggered back and made directly for the cavern. The watcher shrank
-      back, while Herne the Hunter brushed blindly by, leaving Bible and rifle
-      on the rock without. Then the wanderer, slipping out, fled down the narrow
-      trail as though there were less peril from the dizzy cliffs around than in
-      the society of the strange man whose fancies peopled these solitudes with
-      such soul-harrowing phantoms.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Thus for years Herne the Hunter had been a mystery, a fear, and a
-      fascination to the mountaineers; recoiling from men, abhorring women,
-      rebuffing curiosity, yet' at times strangely tender, sad, and ever
-      morbidly religious. He clung to his Bible as his last earthly refuge from
-      his darker self, and to the aspirations it engendered as a bane to the
-      fatalistic stirrings within him.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      He was a mighty hunter and lived upon the proceeds of his skill. Once or
-      twice a year he would appear at some mountain store, fling down a package
-      of skins, and demand its worth in powder and lead. The jean-clad loungers
-      would regard him askance, few venturing to idly speak with him, and none
-      repeating the experiment. His mien daunted the boldest. If women were
-      there he would stand aloof until they left; on meeting them in the road he
-      would sternly avert his eyes as though from a distasteful presence. One
-      day the wife of a storekeeper, waiting on him in her husband's absence,
-      ventured to say, while wrapping up his purchases:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I've all'ays wonnered, Mr. Herne, what makes ye wanter git outen the
-      wimmen folks' way? Mos' men likes ter have 'em eroun'.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Herne the Hunter frowned heavily, but made no reply.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I'm shore, if ye had a good wife long with ye way up thar whur ye live,
-      she'd make ye a leetle more like a man 'nd less like a&mdash;a&mdash;&rdquo; she
-      hesitated over a term which might censure yet not give offense.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Like a beast you would say.&rdquo; He exclaimed then with vehemence: &ldquo;Were the
-      necks of all women in one, and had I my hands on it, I'd strangle them
-      all, though hell were their portion thereafter.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      He made a gesture as of throttling a giant, snatched his bundle from the
-      woman's hand and took himself off up the road with long strides.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      That night was a stormy one. Herne the Hunter was covering the last ten
-      miles between him and the Dismal in a pelting rain. The incident at the
-      store, trivial as it was, had set his blood aflame. He prayed and fought
-      against himself, oblivious of the elements and the darkness, sheltering
-      his powder beneath his shirt of skins where his Bible lay secure. In his
-      ears was the roar of wind and the groans of the tortured forest. Dark
-      ravines yawned beside him, out of which the wolf howled and the mountain
-      owl laughed; and once came a scream like a child, yet stronger and more
-      prolonged. He knew the panther's voice, yet he heeded nothing.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      At last another cry, unmistakably human, rose nearer by. Then he paused,
-      like a hound over a fresher scent, until it was repeated. He made his way
-      around a shoulder of the mountain, and aided by the gray light of a
-      cloud-hidden moon, approached the figures of a woman, a boy and a horse,
-      all three dripping and motionless.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Thank God! we will not die here, after all,&rdquo; exclaimed the female, as
-      Herne the Hunter grimly regarded them. &ldquo;Oh, sir, we have missed the way.
-      This boy was guiding me to the survey camp of Captain Renfro, my husband,
-      on the upper Swananoa. He has sprained his foot, and we have been lost for
-      hours. Can you take us to a place of shelter? I will pay you well&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I hear a voice from the pit,&rdquo; said Herne, fiercely. &ldquo;It is the way with
-      your sex. You think, though you sink the world, that with money you can
-      scale Heaven. Stay here&mdash;rot&mdash;starve&mdash;perish&mdash;what
-      care I!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      After this amazing outburst he turned away, but her terror of the night
-      overbore her fear of this strange repulse, and she grasped his arm. He
-      shook himself free, though the thrill accompanying her clasp staggered
-      him. For years no woman's hand had touched him; but at this rebuff she
-      sank down, crying brokenly:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What shall I do? I should not have started. They warned me below, but I
-      thought the boy knew the way. Oh, sir! if you have a heart, do not leave
-      us here.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;A heart!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;What's that? A piece of flesh that breeds endless
-      woes in bosoms such as yours. All men's should be of stone&mdash;as mine
-      is now!&rdquo; He paused, then said abruptly: &ldquo;Up with you and follow me. I
-      neither pity nor sympathize; but for the sake of her who bore me, I will
-      give you such shelter as I have.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      He picked up the boy, who, knowing him, had sat stupefied with fear, and
-      bade the woman follow him.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;But the horse?&rdquo; she said, hesitating.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Leave it,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;The brute is the best among you, but whither we
-      go no horse may follow.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      He turned, taking up the boy in his arms, and she dumbly followed him,
-      trembling, faint, yet nerved by her fears to unusual exertion. So rapid
-      was his gait, encumbered though he was, that she kept him in view with
-      difficulty. Through the gloom she could divine the perils that environed
-      their ever upward way. The grinding of stricken trees, the brawl of
-      swollen waters harrowed her nerves not less than the partial gleams of
-      unmeasured heights and depths revealed by the lightning. A sense of
-      helplessness exaggerated these terrors among the unknown possibilities
-      surrounding her.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      It seemed as though they would never stop again. Her limbs trembled, her
-      heart thumped suffocatingly, yet their guide gave no heed, but pressed on
-      as though no shivering woman pantingly dogged his steps. They traveled
-      thus for several miles. She felt herself giving way totally when, on
-      looking up once more, she saw that the hunter had vanished.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Where am I?&rdquo; she cried, and a voice, issuing seemingly out of the
-      mountain-side, bade her come on. Her hands struck a wall of rock; on her
-      right a precipice yawned; so, groping toward the left, she felt as she
-      advanced that she was leaving the outer air; the wind and rain no longer
-      beat upon her, yet the darkness was intense.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      She heard the voice of the boy calling upon her to keep near. Into the
-      bowels of the mountains she felt her way until a gleam of light shone
-      ahead. She hastened forward round a shoulder of rock into a roomy aperture
-      branching from the main cavern. The boy lay upon a pallet of skins, while
-      Herne the Hunter fixed the flaring pine-knot he had lighted into a crevice
-      of the rock. Then he started a fire, drew out of another crevice some cold
-      cooked meat and filled a gourd with water from a spring that trickled out
-      at one end of the cave.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Eat,&rdquo; he said, waving his hand. &ldquo;Eat&mdash;that ye may not die. The more
-      unfit to live, the less prepared for death. Eat!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      With that he turned away and busied himself in bathing and bandaging the
-      boy's foot, which, though not severely sprained, was for the time quite
-      painful. Mrs. Renfro now threw back the hood of her waterproof and laid
-      the cloak aside. Even old Herne&mdash;women hater that he was&mdash;could
-      not have found fault with the matronly beauty of her face, unless with its
-      expression of self-satisfied worldliness, as of one who judged others and
-      herself solely by conventional standards, shaped largely by flattery and
-      conceit.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      She was hungry&mdash;her fears were somewhat allayed, and though rather
-      disgusted at such coarse diet, ate and drank with some relish. Meanwhile,
-      Herne the Hunter turned from the boy for something, and beheld her face
-      for the first time. A water-gourd fell from his hands, his eyes dilated,
-      and he crouched as he gazed like a panther before its unsuspecting prey.
-      Every fibre of his frame quivered, and drops of cold sweat stood out upon
-      his forehead. The boy saw with renewed fear this new phase of old Herne's
-      dreaded idiosyncrasies. Mrs. Renfro at length raised her eyes and beheld
-      him thus. Instantly he placed his hands before his face, and abruptly left
-      the cavern. Alarmed at his appearance, she ran toward the boy, exclaiming:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What <i>can</i> be the matter with him? Do you know him?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I knows more of him 'n I wants ter,&rdquo; replied the lad. &ldquo;Oh, marm, that's
-      old Herne, 'nd we uns air the fust ones ez hev be'n in hyar whar he stays.
-      I ganny! I thort shore he'd hev yeaten ye up.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Well, but who is he?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Well, they do say ez the devil yowns him, not but what he air powerful
-      'ligyus. No one knows much 'bouten him, 'cep'n' he's all'ays a projeckin'
-      eround the Dismal whar no one yelse wants ter be.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Has he been here long?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yurs 'nd yurs, they say.&rdquo; Tommy shook his head as though unable to
-      measure the years during which Herne the Hunter had been acquiring his
-      present unsavory reputation, but solved the riddle by exclaiming: &ldquo;I
-      reckon he hev all'ays be'n that-a-way.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      An hour or more passed. Tommy fell asleep, while the lady sat musing by
-      his side. She did not feel like sleeping, though much fatigued. Finally
-      she heard a deep sigh behind her, and turning saw the object of her fears
-      regarding her sombrely. The sight of her face appeared to shock him, for
-      he turned half away as he said:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You have eaten the food that is the curse of life, in that it sustains
-      it. Yet such we are. Sleep, therefore, for you have weary miles to go, ere
-      you can reach the Swananoa.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      There was an indescribable sadness in his tone that touched her, and she
-      regarded him curiously.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Who are you,&rdquo; she asked, &ldquo;and why do you choose to live in such a place
-      as this?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Ask naught of me,&rdquo; he said, with an energy he seemed unable to repress.
-      &ldquo;Ask rather of yourself who am I and how came I&mdash;thus.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      He struck himself upon the breast, and without awaiting an answer again
-      abruptly left the cave. She sat there wondering, trying to-weave into
-      definite shape certain vague impressions suggested by his presence, until
-      weariness overcame her and she slept.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Hours after, Herne the Hunter reentered the cave, bearing a torch. His
-      garments were wet, the rain-drops clung to his hair, and his face was more
-      haggard than ever. He advanced towards the slumbering woman softly, and
-      stood over her, gazing mournfully upon her, while large tears rolled down
-      his cheeks. Then his expression changed to one that was stern and
-      vindictive. His hand nervously toyed with the knife in his belt. Milder
-      thoughts again seemed to sway him, and his features worked twitchingly.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I cannot, I cannot,&rdquo; he whispered to himself. &ldquo;The tears I thought
-      forever banished from these eyes return at this sight. There has never
-      been another who could so move me. Though thou hast been my curse, and art
-      yet my hell&mdash;I cannot do it. Come! protector of my soul; stand thou
-      between me and all murderous thoughts!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      He drew his Bible from his bosom, kissed it convulsively, then held it as
-      though to guard her from himself, and drawing backward slowly, he again
-      fled into the storm and darkness without.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The gray light of morning rose over the Dismal, though within the cave the
-      gloom still reigned supreme, when Herne the Hunter again stood at the
-      entrance holding a flaring light. Then he said aloud: &ldquo;Wake, you that
-      sleep under the shadow of death! Wake, eat, and&mdash;pass on!&rdquo; Mrs.
-      Renfro aroused herself. The boy, however, slept on. Herne fixed his torch
-      in the wall, and replenished the fire. Then he withdrew, apparently to
-      give the lady privacy in making her toilet.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      She was stiff in limb and depressed in mind. After washing at the spring,
-      she wandered listlessly about the cave, surveying old Herne's scanty store
-      of comforts. Suddenly she paused before a faded picture, framed in long,
-      withered moss, that clung to an abutment of the rock. It was that of a
-      girl, fair, slender and ethereal. There was a wealth of hair, large eyes,
-      and features so faultless that the witching sense of self-satisfaction
-      permeating them, added to rather than marred their loveliness.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The lady&mdash;glancing indifferently&mdash;suddenly felt a thrill and a
-      pain. A deadly sense of recognition nearly overcame her, as this memento&mdash;confronting
-      her like a resurrected chapter of the past&mdash;made clear the hitherto
-      inexplicable behavior of their host. She recovered, and looked upon it
-      tenderly, then shook her head gently and sighed.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You cannot recognize it!&rdquo; said a deep voice behind her. &ldquo;You dare not!
-      For the sake of your conscience&mdash;your hope in heaven&mdash;your fear
-      of hell&mdash;you dare not recognize and look upon me!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      She did not look round, though she knew that Herne the Hunter stood
-      frowning behind, but trembled in silence as he went on with increasing
-      energy:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What does that face remind you of? See you aught beneath that beauty but
-      treachery without pity, duplicity without shame? Lo! the pity and the
-      shame you should have felt have recoiled upon me&mdash;me, who alone have
-      suffered.&rdquo; He broke off abruptly, as though choked by emotion. She dared
-      not face him; she felt incapable of a reply. After a pause, he resumed,
-      passionately: &ldquo;Oh! Alice, Alice! The dead rest, yet the living dead can
-      only endure. Amid these crags, and throughout the solitude of years, I
-      have fought and refought the same old battle; but with each victory it
-      returns upon me, strengthened by defeat, while with me all grows weaker
-      but the remorselessness of memory and the capacity for pain.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      She still stood, with bowed head, shivering as though his words were
-      blows.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Have you nothing to say?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;Does that picture of your own youth
-      recall no vanished tenderness for one who&mdash;self-outcast of men&mdash;fell
-      to that pass through you?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I have a husband,&rdquo; she murmured, almost in a whisper.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Aye, and because of that husband I have no wife&mdash;no wife&mdash;no
-      wife!&rdquo; His wailing repetition seemed absolutely heartbroken; but sternly
-      he continued: &ldquo;You have told me where he is. I say to you&mdash;hide him&mdash;hide
-      him from me! Even this&rdquo;&mdash;he struck his bosom with his Bible
-      feverishly&mdash;&ldquo;may not save him. I have prayed and wrought, but it is
-      as nothing&mdash;nothing&mdash;when I think&mdash;when I remember.
-      Therefore, hide him from me&mdash;lest I slay him&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You would not&mdash;you dare not harm him!&rdquo; She faced him now, a splendid
-      picture of an aroused wife and mother. &ldquo;He is not to blame&mdash;he knew
-      you not&mdash;he has been good to me&mdash;and&mdash;and&mdash;I love
-      him.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      He shrank from the last words as though from a blow, and stood cowering.
-      Then he hissed out:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Let me not find him. Hide him&mdash;hide him!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Tommy here awoke with a yawn, and announced that his foot was about well.
-      Herne, closing his lips, busied himself about preparing breakfast, which
-      cheerless meal was eaten in silence. When they finally emerged from the
-      cave the sun was peeping into the Dismal below them; bright gleams chased
-      the dark shadows down the cliffs, and the morning mists were melting. The
-      storm was over; there was a twitter of birds, the tinkle of an overflowing
-      burn, and a squirrel's bark emphasizing the freshness of the morn. The
-      pure air entered the lips like wine, and Mrs. Renfro felt her depression
-      roll off as they retraced the devious trail of the night before.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      They found the lady's horse standing dejectedly near where he had been
-      left. The fog, in vast rolls, was climbing out of the Dismal, disclosing
-      dark masses of forest below. The flavor of pine and balsam slept beneath
-      the trees, every grass blade was diamond-strewn, and every sound vivified
-      by the sense of mighty walls and unsounded depths.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      After Mrs. Renfro had mounted, Herne the Hunter swept an arm around. The
-      scene was savage and sombre, despite the sunlight. The intensity of the
-      solitude about them dragged upon the mind like a weight.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Behold,&rdquo; he said sadly, &ldquo;this is my world. I can tolerate no other.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      She inwardly shuddered; then a wave of old associations swept over her
-      mind. Beneath the austerity of the man, beyond his selfish nurture of
-      affliction, she&mdash;for the moment&mdash;remembered him as he once was,
-      homely, kindly, enthusiastic and true. Had <i>she</i> indeed changed him
-      to this? Or was it not rather the imperativeness of a passion, unable to
-      endure or forget her preference of another? Whatever the cause, her heart
-      now ached for him, though she feared him.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Come with us,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You were not made to live thus.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I cannot&mdash;I dare not. It will take months to undo the misery of this
-      meeting.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;My husband&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Do not name him!&rdquo; he cried fiercely; then abruptly lowering his tone, he
-      said, with infinite sadness: &ldquo;Ask me no more. Yonder, by that white cliff,
-      lies the Swan-anoa trail you missed yesterday. The kindest thing you can
-      do is to forget that you have seen me. Farewell!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      He turned away and swung himself down the mountain-side into the Dismal.
-      She saw the rolling mists close over him, and remained motionless in a
-      reverie so deep that the boy spoke twice to her before she turned her
-      horse's head and followed him.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Above the surveyor's camp lay the Swananoa Gap, a gloomy, precipitous
-      gorge through which the river lashed itself into milder reaches below.
-      Mrs. Renfro found her husband absent. With a single assistant he had
-      started for the upper defiles, intending to be gone several days. They
-      told her that he would endeavor to secure the services of Herne the Hunter
-      as a guide, as one knowing more of that wilderness than any one else.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Here was fresh food for wifely alarm. Herne had never met her husband, yet
-      the latter's name would make known his relationship to herself. She
-      shuddered over the possibilities that might result from their sojourn
-      together&mdash;far from aid&mdash;in those wild mountains, and made
-      herself wretched for a week in consequence.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Meanwhile the transient fine weather passed; the rains once more
-      descended, and the peaks of Nantahalah were invisible for days amid a
-      whirl of vapor. The boom of the river, the grinding of forest limbs, the
-      shriek of the wind, made life unusually dreary at the camp. She lay awake
-      one night when the elements were apparently doing their worst. Her husband
-      was still absent&mdash;perhaps alone with a possible maniac, raving over
-      the memory of fancied wrongs.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Finally another sound mingled with and at last overmastered all others&mdash;something
-      between a crash and a roar, interblended with sullen jars and grindings.
-      Near and nearer it came. She sprang to the tent-floor and found her feet
-      in the water. The darkness was intense. What could be the matter? Fear
-      overcame her resolution and she shrieked aloud.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      A man bearing a lantern burst into the tent with a hoarse cry. Its gleams
-      showed her Herne the Hunter, drenched, draggled, a ghastly cut across his
-      face, with the blood streaming down, his long hair flying, and in his eyes
-      a fierce flame.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I feared I would not find you,&rdquo; he shouted, for the roar without was now
-      appalling. &ldquo;It is a cloud-burst above. In five minutes this hollow will be
-      fathoms deep. The tents lower down are already gone. Come!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      He had seized and was bearing her out.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Save&mdash;alarm the others!&rdquo; she cried.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You first&mdash;Alice.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      In that dread moment she detected the hopelessness with which he called
-      her thus, as though such recognition was wrung from his lips by the pain
-      he hugged, even while it rended him.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;My husband?&rdquo; she gasped, growing faint over the thought of his possible
-      peril&mdash;or death.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Safe,&rdquo; he hissed through his clenched teeth, for his exertions were
-      tremendous. With a fierce flap the tent was swept away as they left it.
-      About his knees the waters swirled, while limbs and other floating débris
-      swept furiously by.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      What seemed to her minutes&mdash;though really seconds&mdash;passed amid a
-      terrific jumble of sounds, while the rain fell in sheets. It seemed as
-      though the invisible mountains were dissolving. They were, however, slowly
-      rising above the floods. She heard Herne's hard breathing, and felt his
-      wild heart-throbs as he held her close. Something heavy struck them, or
-      rather him, for he shielded her. One of his arms fell limp, and he groaned
-      heavily. Then she swooned away, with a fleeting sensation of being grasped
-      by some one else.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Later, when she revived, there was a great hush in the air. Below, the
-      river gently brawled-; there was a misty darkness around, and the gleam of
-      a lantern held before a dear and familiar form.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Husband&mdash;is it you?&rdquo; she murmured.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yes, yes,&rdquo; said Captain Renfro, &ldquo;I thought I had lost you. You owe your
-      life to Herne the Hunter. In fact, but for him I would have been
-      overwhelmed myself.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Where is he?&rdquo; she asked feebly.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;The men are searching for him. Just as one of them got hold of you, he
-      fell back&mdash;something must have struck him, and the flood swept him
-      off. I tell you, Alice, that man&mdash;crazy or not&mdash;is a hero. We
-      were on our way down and had camped above the Gap, when the cloud-burst
-      came. We knew you all would be overwhelmed before we could get round here
-      by the trail; so what does Herne do but send us on horseback by land,
-      while he scoots down that Canyon in a canoe&mdash;little better than an
-      eggshell. Risked his life in that awful place to get here in time. I
-      insisted on going with him at first.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Just like you, George,&rdquo; said the wife fondly, though in her mind's eye
-      came a vision of Herne the Hunter battling with that Niagara to save and
-      unite the two, through whom his own life had been made a burden. She
-      sighed and clasped her husband's hand, while he resumed:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I was a fool, I expect, for the canoe would have swamped under both of
-      us. He knew this, and ordered me off with a look I did not like; there was
-      madness in it. Well, we hurried round by the trail with, one lantern;
-      Herne took the other. When we got here, you were apparently dead, Herne
-      and two of the men swept off&mdash;the camp gone from below, and so on.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      A cry was now heard. Several men hastened down, and soon lights were seen
-      returning. Four of them bore Herne the Hunter. One arm and a leg were
-      broken, and his skull crushed in; yet the wonderful vitality of the man
-      had kept him alive and sensible.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;We found him clinging to a sapling,&rdquo; said one. &ldquo;But he's about gone&mdash;poor
-      fellow!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Poor fellow, indeed! Mrs. Renfro felt the lumps rise in her throat as she
-      gazed upon that wreck, and thought. Presently Herne opened his eyes&mdash;already
-      filling with the death-mist&mdash;and his gaze fell upon her face.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Alice,&rdquo; he whispered, &ldquo;my troubles&mdash;are over. This&rdquo;&mdash;he tugged
-      at something in his bosom with his uninjured arm, when some one drew forth
-      his Bible, drenched and torn&mdash;&ldquo;this saved me. I could have killed him&mdash;&rdquo;
-       he glanced at Renfro, who amid his pity now wondered. &ldquo;I could&mdash;but&mdash;I
-      saved you. And&mdash;now&mdash;Jesus&mdash;have mercy&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      These were his last words, for in another minute Herne the Hunter was a
-      thing of the past, and a weeping woman bent over him. After that there was
-      silence for a while. Then the wife said to her husband, while the others
-      removed the dead man:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;It was his misfortune, not my fault, that he loved me. Has he not made
-      amends?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      And the husband, with his hands clasped in hers, could find no other heart
-      than to say:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Aye&mdash;most nobly!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div style="height: 4em;">
-      <br /><br /><br /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h2>
-      UNCLE DUKE'S &ldquo;B'AR&rdquo; STORY, By Lillian Gilfillan
-    </h2>
-    <p class="pfirst">
-      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> 'LOWED ez mebbe
-      you uns ud like ter hear thet thar b'ar story. I reckon it's ten year this
-      December since it all happened. I war a-livin' up in thet house on th'
-      edge uv th' corn fiel' 'long side th' branch, an' ef it 't'warn't fer thet
-      b'ar I'd be a-livin' thar yet, 'stead uv a-settin' in th' warm corner uv
-      Jim Ladd's fireplace.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I 'low ez yer knowed Jim didn't hev no great sight uv worldly efects when
-      he married Becky Crabtree; I don't reckon his daddy war able ter do much
-      fer him, 'ceptin' 'lowin' him the use uv thet yoke uv ole steers uv his'n.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Thet war afore they moved th' mill out'n th' holler yander, so it war
-      right handy fer Jim ter haul his logs ter, an' he jes' worked hisse'f
-      plumb nigh ter death a-gettin' up thet leetle log house uv his'n, an'
-      a-plantin' fruit trees an' sech, an' all summer Becky worked jes' ez hard
-      a-berry pickin', tendin' her truck patch an' a-peddlin' up ter th'
-      station.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      An' in th' winter time when Jim war a-makin' dish shelves an' a-puttin'
-      some new splits inter th' bottoms uv them ole chiers his daddy give him,
-      Becky war a-peecin' quilts an' a-spinnin' cloth fer dresses. Waal, in th'
-      spring they war married an' went ter live in ther house on th' side uv th'
-      mounting, out'n no neighbors, 'ceptin' me, fer a mile or more down th'
-      cove.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Thet war th' spring I war tuck so bad with this misery in my back an'
-      afore summer I war so cript up I warn't no 'count whatever.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      One mornin' jes' ez I war a gettin' up from afore the fire whar I hed been
-      a-eatin' a snack uv breakfast, Becky walked in, lookin' ez fresh ez a
-      fiel' uv early corn, and sez:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Uncle Duke, I 'lowed I'd come in an' see how you war an' rid up a leetle
-      fur yer.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      I h'ant never been used ter wimen folks, an' I could'nt git th' consent uv
-      my mind ter set by an' see every thin' pot out'n its nat'ral place, so I
-      reched my stick an' out'n sayin' nothin' I riz up an' went out under th'
-      big gum tree.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      It warn't long afore Becky kem out with her bucket on her arm, an' sez:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Good-bye, Uncle Duke. I reckon I'll be a-gittin' along ter th' berry
-      patch yan-der.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      I sed, &ldquo;Thank yer, Becky. Don't yer come no more ter tend ter me. I 'low
-      you's got a plenty ter do 'out'n a-doin' thet.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Yer see, I didn't want ter be pestered with her fixin', yit she was so
-      obleegin' ter everybody I didn't want ter 'fend her by axin' her ter stay
-      ter hum. Waal, when I went in an' seed how piert things looked, I jes'
-      wished I'd a-kep' my pipe in my mouth 'stead uv a-jawin' her. Spite uv my
-      sayin' time an' ag'in fer her ter rest when her own work war done, she
-      kep' a-comin'. I 'lowed she seed how much I enjoyed havin' things liken
-      white folks lived in the house.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I 'low she war jes' ez bright an' happy thet year ez enny woman in the
-      cove ez hed a plenty.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      An' summer an' winter she 'peared ter be always a-workin'.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Waal in th' middle uv March leetle Jim kem, and I reckon thar warn't no
-      two happier people in th' world. They war proud uv thet baby, an' no
-      mistake.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The fust time I seed Becky arter it war born, she pulled a leetle hand
-      out'n from under th' kiver an' sez:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Uncle Duke, some day thet leetle han'll chop wood fur his mammy.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Waal, it did'nt look much like handlin' an axe thin.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Thet summer she use ter roll th' baby up in her daddie's ole army blanket
-      an' take it with her berry pickin' an' peddlin' an' everywhars; it 'peared
-      like she didn't think its weight nothin', un' she'd go 'long th' road
-      talkin' ter it like ez ef a baby four months ole knowed ennythin'. With
-      th' money from her berries she bought th' winter clothes&mdash;mostely
-      things fur th' baby an' flannel shirts fur her man&mdash;'peared like she
-      thought th' cold wouldn't tech her.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      It war th' last uv th' next June thet th' twins war born. This time Becky
-      didn't seem ter git 'long so piert&mdash;jes' lay still an' pale like, an'
-      a lookin' at the baby gals sad an' pityin'. I reckon she war a wonderin'
-      whar th' warm winter clothes they'd need by' an' by' war ter be got from.
-      It warn't in reason ter 'spose a woman could tote two babies an' do much
-      at pickin' berries.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Jim worked ez hard ez enny man could, but his ole mare died jist at fodder
-      pickin' time, an' he couldn't do much out'n a critter, so a right smart uv
-      his crap war lost. Becky didn't seem ter get strong ez she did afore, an'
-      her sister up an' left her sooner 'en she oughter. She seemed tar be
-      kinder mad all th' time ter think Becky had gone an' hed twins, an' she
-      didn't keep her 'pinions hid. I reckon Becky warn't sorry when she went
-      back ter her man.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Ez I war a-sayin', it war ten year ago this December, an' a right smart uv
-      snow on th' ground, when Becky came by my house one mornin' ter ax me ef
-      I'd go down an' watch th' fire an' leetle Jim fer a spell. I seed she war
-      lookin' anxious like, an' I axed her what war th' matter. &ldquo;Jim went
-      a-rabbit huntin' yesterday evenin',&rdquo; she sed, &ldquo;an' he ain't kem hum yit; I
-      reckon somethin' hes happened ter him, an' I 'lowed I'd go an' see. The
-      babies ez both asleep an' I speck ter be home afore long.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      She went on up th' mounting path a-makin' fur the top, a-holpin' herse'f
-      over the sleek places with that hickory stick uv her'n.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I went on down ter th' house an' found leetle Jim a-noddin' afore th'
-      fire. It war about'n th' time he always tuck his nap. Pretty soon he war
-      ez sound asleep ez ef he war on th' biggest feather bed in th' cove,
-      'stead uv jes' his mammy's cook apron under his little yaller head.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I pot on a fresh log an' was mighty nigh asleep myse'f when one o' th'
-      babies waked up an' cried a leetle.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Somehow I got th' cradle in an awk'ard place acrost a plank ez war all
-      warped up an' th' churnin' back an' fore waked up th' t'other 'un. She
-      jes' lay thar a-look-in' fust at me an' then at her leetle sister, kinder
-      onsartin whether ter cry or not.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      By an' by I thought I'd holp her back ter sleep, so I tuck her leetle han'
-      an' tried ter pot her thumb in ter her mouth, but thar warn't nobody
-      knowed enny better thin thet thar baby thet she didn't want no thumb
-      feedin'. I got up an' went fur some milk, fust a-lookin' out'n th' door
-      ter see ef Becky war a-comin'.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Seein' ez thar warn't no sign uv her no-whar, I 'lowed I try ter feed th'
-      young uns, beein's th' both uv them war a-doin' ther best at cryin'.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      They didn't seem ter take much ter my feedin'; I reckon thet war 'cause I
-      didn't set th' milk afore th' fire fust, an' somehow it 'peared like' th'
-      milk most in general went down th' outside uv ther necks; an' Annie (that
-      war th' little un) kept a chokin' tell I had ter take her up. Jes' ez soon
-      ez thet leetle critter got whar she could look 'round an' sense things,
-      she 'peared quite satisfied.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I managed ter git t'other un (Fannie) out'n the cradle. They jumped an'
-      twisted tell I thought I'd die uv the misery in my back, but whin I pot
-      them down they yelled like hallelujer!
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      'Peard like they'd kept me a-dancin' a powerful long time, whin I heerd
-      voices an' I 'lowed Becky war come, but it turned out ter be Mitch
-      Pendergrass an' Sonk Levan, with some rabbits an' ther guns. They hed
-      stopped by ter git warm.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Whin they seed me a-settin' thar nussin' two babies ter onct they bust out
-      larfin'. Fannie hed holt uv my left year an' the leetle hair I hed on my
-      head. Annie war a-sittin' on my knee a gazin' at Sonk an' Mitch,
-      a-wonderin' why they war a-larfin'.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I 'low, Uncle Duke,&rdquo; sez Sonk, &ldquo;ez yer've tuck ter lamin' nussin' late in
-      life. It shows yer pluck ter commence on two ter onct. Whar's Becky?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;She air gone ter look fer Jim,&rdquo; sez I. &ldquo;He went out a-huntin' last night
-      an' he ain't never come hum this mornin'. She war oneasy 'bout him an'
-      went out ter look fur him. 'Lowed ez she'd be hum afore this.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Mitch went ter the door an' looked out an' thin cornin' back ter th' fire,
-      sez he:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;It's arter twelve o'clock, nigh ez I kin calkerlate. Thar seems ter be a
-      big black cloud a-hangin' over th' Top.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Becky ought'en ter be out in no sich. I reckon we'd better be a-movin'.
-      Mebbe Jim's happened ter an acci<i>tent</i> an' she's a-tryin' ter holp
-      him by herse'f.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;She's plucky, <i>she</i> is.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Waal,&rdquo; sez Sonk, &ldquo;Mitch, you give Uncle Duke a lesson in baby feedin'
-      (the father uv ten ought'n ter know somethin' bout'n thet business); I'll
-      tote in enough wood ter burn a spell, an' thin we'll light out'n hyar an'
-      hunt up Becky an' Jim.&rdquo; Arter Mitch's learnin' me ter hold th' spoon un'
-      ter warm th' milk an' ter pot in sweetenin' me an' th' babies got on fine.
-      Soon I hed them both sleepin', kivered up ter th' years, an' th' cradle
-      sot in a warm place. Then I began ter feel powerful hungry, an' leetle
-      Jim, though he ain't sed nothin', hed been a-watchin' thet thar spoon an'
-      milk cup while I fed th' babies, an' a openin' his mouth long side uf
-      them.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I skun one uv Sonk's rabbits, an' it warn't no time tel th' corn bread war
-      a-cookin' in th' bake pan an' th' rabbit a-jumpin' up in th' grease.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Arter dinner Jim set on my knee jes' ez quiet, never axin' fer his mammy
-      onct, an' thim babies slept on jes' like they knowed they war twins an'
-      ther mammy gone. Pretty soon it began ter get dark an' th' snow war
-      a-fallin' ag'in a leetle. Jim went ter sleep an' I pot him ter bed. The
-      time 'peared ter go powerful slow arter that, an' I began ter nod.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      It must have been eight o'clock whin voices in th' yard waked me. I opened
-      th' door an' Mitch called out:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Stir up the fire an' give us a leetle more light. Thar ain't no bones
-      broke, but Jim don't feel egsactly piert.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      They brung him in an' his face war jes' ez pale an' he looked powerful
-      weak.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Most of his coat war tore of'en him an' th' blood war a-droppin' from a
-      place in his arm. Becky looked plumb wore out, but th' fust thin' she did
-      soon ez Jim war on th' bed war ter lean over th' cradle an' sez:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Uncle Duke, war my babies good?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Jes' ez good ez two leetle angels,&rdquo; I sed, spitin' th' fact th' side uv
-      my head war pretty sore from ther pullin' an' scratchin'.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      She helped ter git Jim's arm wrapped up an' him warm in bed, an' thin
-      began ter get supper, like nothin' hed happened out'n th' common. Whin I
-      seed how pale she looked, I sed:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Jus' yer git out th' plates an' I'll tend the fire. I 'low arter cookin'
-      fer nigh thirty year, I kin git a snack yer can eat.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      It twarn't long until another rabbit war in th' pan an' th' coffee
-      a-boilin'. Jim looked up whin he smelt the cookin' an' sez:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I reckon we'll hev a little bigger meat fer to-morrow.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      I war jes' ez curious ez enny ole woman, but everybody was so tired an'
-      hungry I didn't ax anny questions.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Becky war a-sittin' in a low chier afore th' fire with leetle Jim on her
-      lap a-warm-in' his leetle feet in her han'. I could see th' tears war
-      a-chasin' each other down her face.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Mon! but they did eat. Jim, too, and I had' ter git th' cold meat left
-      from dinner ter hev enough.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      When they hed got up from th' table Sonk sed:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Mitch, your wife'll need you with all thim chil'n; I 'low you'd better be
-      a-goin'. I reckon I'll stop hyer; step by an' tell Sallie ter hev
-      breakfast early, an' tell leetle Lular pappy'll be home in th' mornin'.
-      You hev th' mules ready early; I am afeard uv th' varmints a-gittin'
-      Becky's game.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Arter Mitch war gone an' things picked up they told me ther story.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      'Pears like thar warn't no trouble in a trackin' Becky up ter th' top, an'
-      they found her a-tryin' ter work Jim out'n a hole in th' bluff.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Th' night afore, jes' ez Jim war a-makin' fur hum with his game, he hed
-      run agin' a big b'ar. He up an' fired, but missed, it bein' most dark. The
-      b'ar war on him afore he could load agin, an' makin' a pass at him with
-      its big paw, knocked th' musket out'n his han's an' bruck it plumb in two.
-      Jim hed jes' time ter make up a saplin' an' Mr. B'ar set down under him
-      ter bide his time.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      He sot thar a long spell, an' it war most midnight, nigh ez Jim could
-      tell, whin the b'ar made off an' lay down, seein' Jim warn't willin' ter
-      come down an' be et. Waal, Jim decided thin he would come down an' run fur
-      it, 'lowin' a hot chase war better'n freezin' up thar. So down he dumb an'
-      lit out, Mr. B'ar arter him. Jes' ez they struck the bluff path the b'ar
-      got so near thet it riz up an' grabbed him. Jim bein' quick got away,
-      leavin' Mr. B'ar most uv his coat ter 'member him by, but in backin' away
-      he wint too far an' fell inter a crack in th' bluff.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      It warn't very nice failin', but the crack warn't over four feet deep an'
-      full uv leaves at the bottom, so bein' out'n the wind they made a more
-      comfortable place ter spend th' night in then th' saplin'.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Pretty soon Jim hed occasion ter know he war hurt some.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The bar had tore his left arm right smart an' in fallin' his face hed got
-      skun up dreadful. Th' b'ar walked up an' down, a-smellin' down thet crack
-      sorter much like, but by-an'-by he went off a leetle an' lay down, I spect
-      arguin' with hisse'f thet Jim would come out'n th' hole liken he did out'n
-      th' saplin.'
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Jim wrapped up his arm the best he could with a piece uv his shirt sleeve.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      It war daylight when he waked an' th' fust thin' he seed war th' head uv
-      thet thar b'ar a-lookin' down at him.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      He knowed it war'n't no use ter holler, so he jes' lay thar thinkin' 'bout
-      Becky an' th' babies an' leetle Jim&mdash;wonderin' ef she'd think he'd
-      quit her.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The thought uv Becky's thinkin' enny bad uv him made him groan with a new
-      kind uv pain, an' whin he moved a leetle he fainted away. I reckon thet
-      war jes' 'bout'n th' time Becky got thar, fer she said she heerd a groan
-      down in thet hole an' thin all war still. She war jes' a-goin' ter call
-      whin she spied thet b'ar a-lookin' down inter th' crack.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      'Bout ten foot to th' left uv whar Jim war fust the mounting breaks away,
-      leavin' a pres'pus uv forty foot or more, but thar's a leetle ledge at th'
-      top whar you kin look inter thet crack in th' bluff.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      It war fur thet leetle ledge the b'ar made jes' ez Becky halted. When it
-      clumb down she made sure it would git ter Jim (she war sure he war in thet
-      crack), so she follered quiet ez she could, an th' snow bein' soft kept
-      th' b'ar from hearing her&mdash;until she war right behind it&mdash;whar
-      it war leanin' down over th' edge a-tryin' ter git inter th' crack. 'Fore
-      it could turn on her she gave it a powerful push with her hickory stick,
-      an' being so fur over an' so heavy the b'ar lost hisse'f, an' down he went
-      with a crash into th' underbrush.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Becky'd gone too, only her dress war caught in some bushes an' thet saved
-      her.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      She couldn't do nothin' but lay on th' ground an' rest a spell, thin she
-      crawled ter th' edge an' looked down ter make sure th' b'ar war dead.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Hearin' Jim groan agin she got up an' went ter him.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      He war clean gone in a faint agin before she could get down ter him. When
-      she got him to again she gave him th' flask uv milk she hed brought.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      She worked with him ter keep him warm, but she couldn't do much, th' place
-      war so norrow. It seemed an age before he got so he knowed anythin', an'
-      she had made up her mind ter leave him an' go fur help whin Sonk and Mitch
-      got thar. An' 'twixt 'm they soon got Jim out an' laid him on the ole army
-      blanket I hed sent, an' they axed Becky how come he thar. She told them
-      what she knowed, but they wouldn't believe about th' b'ar until she showed
-      them whar it lay. Whin Mitch looked over an' seed fur hisse'f he jis' sed
-      'By Gosh!' an' runnin' back to whar he could scramble down made down th'
-      side like a coon. Sonk war about ter follow, when he stopped an' turned
-      ter Becky, tellin' her ter see ter Jim till they could come up agin. He
-      give her a bottle uv applejack out'n his pocket, which he said he carried
-      fur snake bite. Becky never said nothin' 'bout'n snakes most in general
-      stayin' in th' ground in winter time, but gave a little of the liquor ter
-      Jim an' tuck a leetle dram herse'f.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I reckon ef it hadn't been fer Sonk's snake medicine, they both a-been
-      down sick from th' cold an' wet.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Ez soon ez th' men could git a good kiverin' uv snow over th' b'ar ter
-      keep wild cats from pesterin' it, they kem up an' took up th' ends uv
-      Jim's blanket ter fotch him hum. It war slow work, th' path bein' steep
-      an' norrow, an' Jim heavy, so it war eight o'clock afore they got down.
-      Waal, th' next day they got th' bar down, an' mon! he war a big 'un.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      They skun him an' put th' meat up fur sale at th' store. A young fellar
-      from th' North ez war a-stayin' at th' station give Becky $12 fur th'
-      hide, ter take home ter his gal, I reckon.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The meat sold well, an' altergether I reckon Becky never seed so much
-      money at one time afore in her life. She wanted ter divide with Sonk an'
-      Mitch, but they wouldn't hear to it, an' she couldn't make them took nary
-      cent. Afore th' week war out she went ter th' station an' bought shoes an'
-      warm clothes fur all an' enough ter last two winters, an' soon Becky's
-      fingers war busy. She made some red flannel shirts fur me, 'cause she sed
-      they be good fer th' misery in my back.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      An' whin I sed my fire hed been out a week an' I'd eat enough uv other
-      folks' corn bread an' coffee, Becky up and sed:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I 'low ez yer'd better stay, Uncle Duke; I've got a sight uv sewin' ter
-      do an' yer got ter be so handy with th' babies I can't hardly spare yer.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Arter thet we jined corn fiel's an' next year war a powerful good one fer
-      craps an' fruit.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I tended th' chil'n while Becky went fur berries and did her peddlin'.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      We ain't a-gettin' rich, but we has a plenty, an' I don't reckon we air
-      got anythin' in a worldly line to ax th' Lord fur he ain't already done
-      give us.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0036" id="linkimage-0036"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:15%;">
-      <img src="images/5184.jpg" alt="5184 " width="100%" /><br /><a
-      href="images/5184.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </div>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div style="height: 4em;">
-      <br /><br /><br /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h2>
-      A CIGARETTE FROM CARCINTO, By Edward French
-    </h2>
-    <h3>
-      <i>A Bit of Mexican Adventure</i>.
-    </h3>
-    <p class="pfirst">
-      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>E were sitting in
-      the hotel in San Antonio, and the conversation had taken that satisfactory
-      turn and confidential coloring which it will take amongst congenial
-      companions round an open wood fire.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0037" id="linkimage-0037"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="figleft" style="width:20%;">
-      <img src="images/9185.jpg" alt="9185 " width="100%" /><br /><a
-      href="images/9185.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </div>
-    <p>
-      We had been expressing our individual opinions about men and things,
-      especially men, and had derived a sleepy satisfaction from our general
-      criticisms. There were men among us who had seen a good deal of frontier
-      life, and, as one man said, &ldquo;he had seen so many men die with their boots
-      on, it seemed the natural end.&rdquo; My nearest neighbor in the circle was a
-      young artist from New Orleans, known throughout the city as &ldquo;Jim the
-      Painter,&rdquo; from the art he practiced to get his living. He turned and asked
-      me if I knew Jack Dunton; and when I denied the honor, he said: &ldquo;Well, you
-      ought to; he is a map of the whole Indian country.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      This awakened my interest. I found that Dunton was living in San Antonio,
-      that his life had been really wonderful in experiences and adventures,
-      that he was very intelligent as well as recklessly brave, and finally,
-      that his acquaintance was worth any man's time to cultivate. Later in the
-      evening we walked over to Dunton's office, a long, pleasant room in the
-      second story of a flat-roofed <i>adobe</i> building that covered nearly
-      half an acre. Both its stories were crammed full of the goods he sold&mdash;wagons,
-      harnesses, and all sorts of agricultural tools.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Dunton's own room was a mighty interesting place, principally in its
-      decorations. The walls and doorways were hung with bright-colored and
-      strange-figured Mojave and Navajoe blankets, skins and weapons were
-      scattered around or arranged as trophies, while clumsy and rude implements
-      of Aztec and Mexican fashioning, from Yucatan to Chihuahua, were suspended
-      against the sides, or heaped in the corners. A large open fire, with
-      blazing cedar logs, filled the room with the aromatic odor so pleasant and
-      characteristic of that wood, and lighted it with fitful glares. There were
-      many interesting stories connected with this collection, and every article
-      in the room seemed to remind Dunton of an experience or incident in his
-      varied career. After being introduced and comfortably seated in a chair,
-      he passed us cigars, and while we were lighting these preliminaries to
-      sociability he drew a square of corn husk from one side-pocket of his sack
-      coat and a pinch of tobacco from the other side-pocket, and quietly rolled
-      a cigarette, which gave out a pungent, penetrating odor. It was not
-      disagreeable, but it struck me as being peculiar, even for Texas. Upon
-      remarking that it seemed different from ordinary tobacco, Dunton replied,
-      &ldquo;It is, and I have good reason to like it, for once it saved my life.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      This aroused my curiosity, and with some little urging he told us the
-      story. &ldquo;This tobacco,&rdquo; said Dunton, &ldquo;comes from the town of Carcinto,
-      quite a mining settlement of <i>adobe</i> houses and stockades,
-      surrounding a Mexican convict station in the center of the state of
-      Chihuahua. It is made by the convicts, who treat the ordinary tobacco with
-      the juice of a native plant, which gives it the pungent flavor you notice
-      and, I suspect, a slight narcotic power; be that as it may, now that I am
-      used to it, other tobacco is flat and tasteless. I was down there some
-      years ago, trying to sell the mine-owners some carts, harness, and things
-      in my line, and I became well acquainted with the nature of these
-      convicts, and I tell you, I would rather take my chances in a den of
-      mountain lions than among those fellows when they revolt. At such times
-      they are madly insane, and nothing is too hellish for them.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I had made a good thing of my deal and was anxiously waiting for an
-      escort,&mdash;for I had four thousand Mexican dollars, and a man of my
-      shape takes no chances in toting money around in that country.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;The day that I remember particularly&mdash;and you will see I have reason
-      to&mdash;was the day before I was to go out from the mine with the mule
-      train. That afternoon I went in the levels with Senor Bustino, one of the
-      owners, a gentleman, every inch of him&mdash;and I tell you, no finer
-      gentleman walks the earth than a high-caste Mexican of Castilian blood.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I had sold them a few dozen American pickaxes, and one of the convict
-      gangs was to try them that day for the first time. It was the first lot of
-      pickaxes ever used in that mine, and, as the sequel proved, the last. The
-      men were doing with them twice the business they had formerly done with
-      their clumsy heavy hoes. Two soldiers with <i>escopetas</i> were on guard,
-      and two overseers with pistols and heavy canes were directing the work. To
-      get a better and nearer view, Sefior Bustino and I crowded through until
-      we came to the rotten ledge filled with the silver, upon which they
-      worked. The convicts stopped and gazed upon us curiously, some of them
-      pushing back their long black hair out of their eyes and staring with
-      undisguised wonder at me, for I was a <i>gringo</i>, a <i>heretico</i>,
-      and a strange object to them in those early days, with my paler skin and
-      peculiar dress. Near me was a large black fellow, bare to the waist.. He
-      was short-necked and broad-shouldered, and his cheeks were so high as to
-      partly close his little fierce eyes; his nose was low and flat, while his
-      chin was sharp and prominent, with a deep scowl; in fact, a bundle of
-      animal appetites and passions done up in a hideous form. As we passed he
-      drew from the folds of his drawers&mdash;the only clothing he wore&mdash;a
-      pinch of tobacco and a com husk, and making a cigarette he stepped to one
-      of the grease-wood torches and lighted it, blowing out a great cloud of
-      pungent, aromatic smoke from his broad nostrils, that filled the space
-      around us with the odor you noticed from my cigarette.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;That was my first experience with that tobacco, and, indeed, my first
-      smell of its peculiar odor, and I have never forgotten it. I dined that
-      evening with the old senor and was introduced to his family; his wife, a
-      Mexican lady prematurely aged&mdash;as they all are, two daughters,
-      handsome as angels, and was shown the picture of their son, a young man
-      who was then being educated in Paris. They were delightful people,
-      especially to one who had been trucking for weeks across the dusty plains
-      of Chihuahua, with only <i>peons</i> and mules for company, and we had a
-      fiery Mexican dinner, spiced with the jokes of the village priest, who was
-      an honored guest. At ten, with the hearty wishes of the whole family, and
-      after the elaborate Mexican custom of withdrawal, I left them. As I
-      sauntered out in the moonlight I could not shut out of my mind the brutish
-      face of the convict in the mine. Perhaps the round faces and handsome eyes
-      of the senor's pretty daughters may have emphasized the memory of the
-      convict's ugly head; otherwise I was in a happy mood.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I turned the corner of the street and entered a short dark lane that led
-      toward the prison stockade. There was an occasional <i>adobe</i> house,
-      but the street was mostly lined with the miserable mud <i>jacals</i> of
-      the poorer Mexicans. I had hardly gotten well into it when I sniffed the
-      same pungent odor that the convict's cigarette had given out. It startled
-      me a trifle, conjuring up, as it did, the hideous mental picture of the
-      man. I had but just realized this association when I heard the clanging of
-      the cathedral bells in that hurried, nervous manner which has alarm in its
-      every note&mdash;for the tone of a bell always partakes of the state that
-      its ringer is in. I heard the sound of approaching voices, loud and
-      fierce, mixed with the alarming notes of the bells, and I stepped into the
-      dark doorway of the nearest house. Next, there was the spatting of bare
-      feet on the hard street, and a yelling crowd hurriedly rushed by my
-      hiding-place, leaving a trailing smell of the same tobacco. I noticed the
-      gleam of white handles in the moon-lighted street that I had seen in the
-      yellow light of the mine, and then I knew that the convicts had revolted,
-      and that they were armed with the pick-axes I had sold the mining company.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;The bells continued to clang out their terror, and the distant shouting
-      became blended into the continuous murmur that you hear from a distant
-      crowd of excited people. Once in a while the roar of an <i>escopeta</i>
-      would be heard, and soon I saw a magenta glow in the sky, and I knew the
-      town had been fired. Then followed the rapid snapping of pistols, and soon
-      the bellow of the old brass <i>escopetas</i> denoted that the guards had
-      mustered, and that there was an organized resistance to the revolt. All
-      this occurred quicker than I can tell it. I concluded to get back into the
-      broad street I had just come out of, for if there is to be shooting, I
-      want a clear space and as much light as I can get.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Just as I turned the corner, on a run, with both of my colts on a
-      shooting level&mdash;for, by the way, it is always best to come upon your
-      enemy suddenly and surprise him before he knows you are there&mdash;I saw
-      several bodies in the street, and in the distance some dozen men
-      retreating. I stopped near by the first body I came to; and to my horror I
-      saw it was the still warm corpse of Senor Bustino. As I paused and stooped
-      to more closely examine, I thought I could detect the lingering smell of
-      that hellish convict's tobacco. Had the fiends attacked my host's home and
-      dragged him insensate through the streets, or had he been slain whilst
-      hurrying to the post of duty, at the sound of the alarm he knew well the
-      meaning of? If the former, good God! what had been the fate of his wife
-      and lovely daughters? The very thought momentarily unnerved me; and if the
-      convicts had not yet wreaked their vengeance, could I reach them in time
-      to be of effective service? Louder and louder roared the tumult, nearer
-      and nearer came the flashing, glinting lights of torch and pistol, and as
-      I swept round into the street in which Senor Bustino's house stood I could
-      see, pouring down the hill toward it, a demoniac gang led by the
-      bare-breasted convict whose baleful face had haunted me.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I found the senora and her daughters alone and, thank God! unharmed; but
-      not a moment too soon, for even as I hurried them through into the
-      darkness of the night the convicts, with curses on their tongues, lust in
-      their heart, and red ruin in their hands, swarmed into the house. A
-      momentary check came as their leader and another fell in the narrow door,
-      beneath the fire of my two revolvers, and the flames which leaped up from
-      that erewhile home lent their last protection in the shadow they cast,
-      which enabled us, by availing ourselves of it, to escape. By the time we
-      arrived at my hotel the convicts had flown to the mountains and we heard
-      the story of the revolt. If I had not smelled that tobacco I should not
-      have concealed myself in the doorway, my life would not have been worth a
-      picayune, and you may imagine what would have been the fate of my hostess
-      and her household. Senor Bustino, it appeared, had fallen a victim to the
-      high chivalry which prompted him, hearing the bell and knowing its
-      meaning, to hastily summon his servants, and with five or six armed <i>peons</i>
-      hasten out to overtake me and bid me return to his house until all danger
-      was over. He had met the convicts, who had attacked him and struck him
-      down, while most of his servants fled.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Dunton paused, made and lighted another cigarette, and continued: &ldquo;I could
-      not get away for a month, for it was not safe for a small party to leave
-      the town. I brought out some of that tobacco as a curiosity and learned to
-      like it. I send for more every year where it is still prepared, in the
-      prison-pens.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;It is sometimes said, 'Follow your nose and it will take you out of
-      danger,' and in my case the proverb proved true. Sometimes, when I sit
-      here alone, half sleepily watching the curling smoke wreaths, I can almost
-      see the place again, and the rings of smoke shape themselves into a horde
-      of convict demons killing the poor old noble senor, whose elder daughter I
-      have married. And now you know what I owe to the pungent aroma of a
-      cigarette from Carcinto.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div style="height: 4em;">
-      <br /><br /><br /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h2>
-      ANTAEUS, By Frank M. Bicknell
-    </h2>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0038" id="linkimage-0038"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0199.jpg" alt="0199 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0199.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0039" id="linkimage-0039"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="figleft" style="width:20%;">
-      <img src="images/9200.jpg" alt="9200 " width="100%" /><br /><a
-      href="images/9200.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </div>
-    <p>
-      ATE one night, after having been a week out of town, I was returning home
-      by a short cut across fields, when, on coming upon the street again, I
-      found my path barred by a huge, hulking fellow, whose unexpected
-      appearance startled me not a little. This was my introduction to Antaeus,
-      whose better acquaintance I was to make later under rather peculiar
-      circumstances. Antaeus was not a highway robber, but a highway roller, and
-      when he first confronted me he was drawn up beside the road, enjoying an
-      elephantine slumber after his hard day's labor&mdash;being, despite his
-      formidable aspect, quiescent and inoffensive.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I am not sure that it is usual to confer upon steam-rollers the dignity of
-      a name, but my friend had one, and I read it on the neat, black-lettered
-      brass plate affixed to the side of his boiler, near the smoke-stack. This,
-      I take it, was the nearest practicable approach to hanging a locket about
-      his neck that could be managed, and I have always felt grateful to his
-      unknown sponsors for their little act of consideration.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I cannot think of Antaeus otherwise than as a creature&mdash;not simply as
-      a creation&mdash;as a reasoning and responsible being, rather than as a
-      docile, slavish piece of mechanism; but to the unimaginative he seemed to
-      be under the domination of a tolerably clean specimen of humanity whom I
-      shall call the Driver.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      It was nearly a fortnight after our first meeting when I next saw Antaeus,
-      for he was occupied in parts of the town remote from that in which I
-      lived. I heard him occasionally, however, as he passed through the
-      neighborhood after dark, <i>en route</i> for another field of labor, or
-      propelling his weary weight toward the shed under which he was lodged for
-      his Sunday's rest. On such occasions, when I heard him lumbering by, I
-      used to fancy he was taking an after-supper promenade and puffing a
-      meditative cigar as he went along.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      At length, after he had come several times for pleasure, or his own
-      convenience, he made us a professional call and buckled down to work at
-      repairing a strip of street which had long stood in need! of his services.
-      Antaeus was with us for several weeks and during his stay I became, in a
-      measure, &ldquo;chummy&rdquo; with the Driver, from whom I learned various interesting
-      facts about my muscular friend.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Antaeus was a &ldquo;fifteen-tonner,&rdquo; and his market price was $4,000; he was
-      about sixteen feet long by seven wide at his widest part; he consumed from
-      three to four hundred pounds of coal per diem; his strength was equal to
-      that of more horses than I can recollect; he came down upon the dust at
-      the rate of two tons weight per foot in width; and, when put to his best,
-      he could settle into what was intended to be its final resting place about
-      two thousand square yards of new road material per day of ten hours. As
-      regarded wheels he was tricycular, that is, he rested upon one roller in
-      front and two behind, the former being also used for steering purposes. He
-      had two small coal-bunkers in the rear, a reasonably commodious space,
-      with a spring seat, for the Driver, and a good-sized awning overhead. He
-      worked under a low pressure of I forget just how many pounds of steam, and
-      when traveling for pleasure could do rather more miles a day than could a
-      crack trotter per hour when put to his best paces.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      These particulars I learned during the first week that Antaeus was busied
-      in our neighborhood. It was thus that I took the preliminary steps toward
-      making his acquaintance and came to be on pleasant speaking terms with
-      him, as it were. For the subsequent intimacy between Antaeus and myself,
-      neither he nor I were wholly responsible.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      A young lady had appeared at the house across the way. She was pretty, but
-      I noticed her more particularly on account of the seemingly boundless
-      capabilities of her wardrobe. She had a fresh gown for every new day, or
-      at least, in the course of the first fortnight she had displayed a series
-      of fourteen charming costumes, which I could no more hope to describe than
-      could a North Greenland Eskimo to write an intelligent treatise on the
-      flora of the torrid zone. I sat at my window, not too near, every morning
-      when she came out of doors, and admired her through a spy-glass. This may
-      appear like a piece of impertinence&mdash;perhaps it was&mdash;but I shall
-      urge in my defence the fact that the street between us was nearly a
-      hundred feet wide, and our two houses were set so far back that even by
-      using my comparatively short-sighted little telescope, I could not bring
-      her much nearer than we might actually have been without its aid in a more
-      crowded neighborhood.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      One afternoon I stood talking with the Driver, while Antaeus was awaiting
-      the deposit of more material by two tip-carts which were attached to his
-      service, when she passed on the sidewalk, and I imagined she glanced at me
-      with a certain degree of interest, as if she recalled having seen me
-      before&mdash;or was it Antaeus who was the more worthy object of' her
-      attention? Had I dared I should have smiled a little&mdash;merely a vague,
-      sketchy, tentative smile&mdash;but, hardly thinking it prudent, I resisted
-      the temptation and tried, as the photographers put it, to look natural;
-      with the probable result of looking only cross. After having been her
-      neighbor for more than two weeks it seemed as if I ought to have the right
-      to speak, but proper consideration for <i>les convenances</i> forbade. It
-      was vacation season, I was alone in the house, and, there being no
-      womankind to make the necessary advances, I knew not how long it might be
-      ere I could be formally introduced.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0040" id="linkimage-0040"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0204.jpg" alt="0204 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0204.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      While I was meditating upon this state of affairs&mdash;peculiarly
-      unfortunate for me&mdash;she walked on and disappeared around a corner. A
-      few minutes later the fire-alarm bell sounded the number of a box near by,
-      and presently our beautiful fire-engine, all glittering with gold and
-      silver plate, the just pride of the town, dashed rather noisily by. At
-      sight of this brilliant appearance Antaeus gave vent to a species of snort
-      and started up as if to follow, but naturally his lumbering pace was no
-      match for the swiftness of the other machine, and from the first he was
-      left hopelessly in the rear. I went off to see where the fire was&mdash;it
-      proved to be of small account&mdash;and forgot Antaeus entirely until that
-      night, when he recalled himself to my mind by figuring in an odd and
-      whimsical dream.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The scene I have just described was reproduced in part, the Driver,
-      however, being eliminated from it. I thought I was standing beside Antaeus
-      when the young lady appeared, only to disappear. As she went I sighed
-      regretfully, whereupon something happened which ought to have surprised
-      me, and would have done so anywhere else than in a dream. As if in
-      sympathy with me, Antaeus heaved a sigh also&mdash;a most ponderous one&mdash;and
-      thus addressed me:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I can understand your feelings,&rdquo; he said, in a low, hoarse voice. &ldquo;You
-      are longing for what seems the unattainable. Alas! so am I. We might
-      mingle our tears,&rdquo; he went on, beginning to exude moisture around the
-      gauges; &ldquo;or better still,&rdquo; he added, as if struck by an idea, &ldquo;perhaps we
-      can be of assistance to each other.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;In what way?&rdquo; I asked, dubiously.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I might help you to know <i>her</i> if you would help me to an
-      acquaintance with the charming Electra.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Intuitively I divined that Electra must be the steam fire-engine. Big,
-      brawny Antaeus was in love! The ludicrousness of the notion did not strike
-      me then as it did afterward. On the contrary, it seemed to be one of the
-      most natural things imaginable.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, in response to my thoughts, &ldquo;I am passionately enamored of
-      her. I desire unutterably to gain her friendship, her esteem, her love&mdash;even
-      though she may scorn me. I realize that her station in life is far above
-      mine. I am only a plodder, while she is&mdash;Did you see her pass me like
-      a flash of light this afternoon? Was she not entrancing, enthralling,
-      irresistible! Ah, me! when she bestows her love it will be upon one of
-      those fast, dashing railway fellows, I dare say. Yet I should like her to
-      know that I am her friend, that I would risk any danger, that I would go
-      through the torments of&mdash;of the repair shop, that I would give my
-      last puff to serve her. I may be ugly and slow-going, and awkward and
-      ungainly&mdash;Do you think I am so very ungainly, that is, for one in my
-      walk of life?&rdquo; he broke off, in rather piteous query.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Not at all,&rdquo; I hastened to assure him; &ldquo;when we consider your great
-      adaptability to your&mdash;your vocation, I am sure your form would be
-      considered remarkably symmetrical.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Thank you!&rdquo; he exclaimed, gratefully, &ldquo;and whether or not such be the
-      case, at least I am honest and straightforward and true-hearted, though I
-      do blow my own whistle in saying it.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You certainly are.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Then I trust I am not too aspiring in wishing to be numbered among
-      Electra's friends. I hope she would not be ashamed to acknowledge me if
-      she met me in the street.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I should hope not, indeed,&rdquo; I murmured, when he paused for an encouraging
-      word.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Shall we call it a bargain, then, that I aid you to an introduction to
-      the young lady, your neighbor, and in return you so contrive as to bring
-      about a meeting between Electra and me?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;A bargain it is, with all my heart,&rdquo; I assented, grasping and shaking the
-      handle of his throttle-lever, &ldquo;and the sooner the better for the carrying
-      out of it.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Very good; call on me to-morrow, and I will see what can be done for
-      you.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Shall&mdash;shall I come in business hours?&rdquo; I asked, hesitatingly,
-      thinking he might possibly prefer to attend to the matter between twelve
-      and one.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;in business hours, certainly. I mean business,
-      and I hope you do.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      I hastened to set his mind at rest on that point, and, after promising to
-      come on the following afternoon, I shook his handle again, which had the
-      effect of starting him off, and so our interview ended.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      When I awoke in the morning, my dream seemed so vividly real that I
-      resolved to risk making myself ridiculous in my own eyes and to keep my
-      appointment with Antaeus. Accordingly, after lunch, I strolled out toward
-      the section of highway where he was at work. Soon I caught sight of a
-      light-complexioned wagon standing on the opposite side of the street.
-      Attached to it were two plump, blonde ponies, garbed in russet harness,
-      and, on the front seat, reins in hand, talking with an acquaintance upon
-      the sidewalk, sat my young lady.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The natty vehicle had one other occupant, a sooty-faced pug, sitting up
-      very straight on the cushion beside his mistress, with quite the air of a
-      personage of distinction. In front of the ponies' noses was a horse of
-      another breed, a four-legged structure of wood, upholding a sign-board,
-      upon which was painted in glaring letters the word, &ldquo;Danger,&rdquo; and in
-      smaller ones, &ldquo;No Passing; Steam Roller Running.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Upon this scene presently entered an important actor&mdash;I might call
-      him the heavy villian&mdash;Antaeus, grumbling, groaning, puffing and
-      perspiring in his efforts to consolidate the various ingredients for a
-      durable roadbed that had been laid down in his path. As he drew nearer he
-      gave utterance to a significant &ldquo;ahem!&rdquo;&mdash;as I thought&mdash;by way of
-      calling my attention to what was about to happen. Apparently he was going
-      to keep his part of our agreement. A suspicion of what might be his idea
-      began to dawn upon me. He purposed frightening the ponies, an incipient
-      runaway would ensue, and I should be enabled to play the part of heroic
-      rescuer. There were no very original features in the scheme, but it struck
-      me as being quite practicable nevertheless; consequently I was somewhat
-      surprised and grieved when nothing of the nature of what I had anticipated
-      took place.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      But Antaeus was more subtle than I. He wished to avoid the appearance of
-      collusion between us, which might have been given by the execution of the
-      rudimentary strategem I have outlined. (Or perhaps the real explanation of
-      it is that he knew the fat little beasts of ponies were of too phlegmatic
-      a temperament to be disturbed by a bugaboo.) At any rate they only blinked
-      sleepily at Antaeus and then went off into a peaceful doze, entirely
-      unmoved by his nearness. With the black-vis-aged pug, however, it was
-      quite otherwise. He regarded the monster as an interloper, a trespasser,
-      and he began to bark at him angrily. Perceiving that his scoldings had no
-      effect, he lost his temper entirely, and, jumping down from the carriage
-      seat, ran forward toward the advancing engine and continued his barking
-      with redoubled force and fury. His mistress' attention was now aroused,
-      and, seeing how persistently he put himself in the track of the roller,
-      she became uneasy. She called to him persuasively, authoritatively,
-      beseechingly, but he paid her no heed. Apparently he had more faith in
-      himself than had King Canute when he gave his memorable lesson to his
-      courtiers by the seashore.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      From his position in the rear the Driver could not see the dog, and I
-      doubt if he clearly understood the situation, for he made no attempt to
-      avert the threatened catastrophe. The ridiculous animal stood his ground
-      and kept up his remonstrances against the invader; the alarmed young lady
-      threw an eloquently imploring look at me; and Antaeus came on, stolid,
-      grim and impassive. Meanwhile, strangely enough&mdash;as it seems to me
-      now&mdash;I remained inactive until my coadjutor, justly irritated,
-      suddenly growled out what I took to mean:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Come! come; stupid, now is your time; why don't you bestir yourself?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Then I awakened to a full sense of my responsibilities and opportunities,
-      and rushing to the fore, seized the rash and obstinate pug by the scruff
-      of the neck and restored him, rescued from the Juggernaut, to the arms of
-      his grateful mistress.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Thus did Antaeus fulfill his share of our agreement.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      This little incident broke the ice. In less than a week the young lady and
-      I knew each other almost intimately. It transpired that we were in fact
-      old acquaintances. That is to say, she remembered me when I was at home
-      during one college vacation, and she hoped I had not forgotten the small
-      miss who used to come over and play tea-party with my sister. I replied
-      that I should hope not, indeed, and mentally took myself to task for not
-      being surer about it. The boy of seventeen is less likely to be impressed
-      with the girl of eight than is the young man of twenty-eight with the
-      maiden of nineteen. I was positive that at the end of another eleven years
-      I should have had no trouble in recalling her to mind.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I am not a tennis enthusiast, but I will admit that my white flannel suit
-      had a chance to contrast itself with the velvety green of the lawn across
-      the way rather frequently after that. It was a convenient and plausible
-      excuse for being with her a good deal.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0041" id="linkimage-0041"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0212.jpg" alt="0212 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0212.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      The pleasure of her society was worth some physical discomfort, and I
-      couldn't complain if I did feel for a week or more as if I had been given
-      a sound drubbing. One day, after we had finished a series of games&mdash;in
-      which mine was second-best record&mdash;who should appear, laboriously
-      rumbling by, but my well-nigh forgotten friend Antaeus.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What an uncouth piece of mechanism that is!&rdquo; she exclaimed, turning to
-      look at him&mdash;&ldquo;a sort of caricature of a locomotive, one might say. A
-      veritable snail for traveling, too, isn't it?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yes; his&mdash;I mean it's&mdash;best speed does not exceed five miles an
-      hour, I am told. A man might walk as fast as that with a little exertion.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I wonder if it is a pleasant mode of riding&mdash;in a steam-roller?&rdquo; she
-      said, half musing, her gaze still resting on Antaeus. &ldquo;At least one would
-      have plenty of leisure for viewing the scenery along the way. I should
-      rather like to try a short ride on it.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Should you, really,&rdquo; I asked, doubting whether or not she was in earnest.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yes, indeed, I should.&rdquo; If she had been half in jest before she was
-      serious now. &ldquo;It would be a new experience.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Hardly an agreeable one for a lady, though,&rdquo; I commented.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh, that would be a secondary consideration,&rdquo; she returned with a shrug.
-      &ldquo;I should value the experience as an experience, and I should be glad to
-      have it to put on my list.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      I looked inquisitive and she proceeded to explain.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I keep a diary&mdash;not a regulation school girl's diary, in which one
-      feels bound to write something every single day of the year, whether there
-      is anything worth recording or not&mdash;but a collection of memoranda in
-      which I take a good deal of satisfaction. Mine is a classified diary and
-      is contained in about a dozen different books which began as mere covers
-      with nothing between. By putting in leaves when there was occasion the
-      volumes grew until now several of them have attained to a very respectable
-      thickness.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Might I ask, without indiscretion, for a hint as to the nature of their
-      contents, or would that be&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Certainly; there is no secret about them. In fact I have been known to
-      show their pages to certain of my friends, and, to be quite honest, I am
-      rather proud of them. As far as I can recollect now, they are labeled with
-      these titles: 'Books I have read, Places I have visited, Notable
-      personages I have seen, Odd or eccentric characters I have met, Strange
-      sights I have seen, Curious dishes of which I have eaten, Rides I have
-      taken&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Do you mean,&rdquo; I interposed, &ldquo;that every time you take a ride you enter an
-      account of it in your collection?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I mean that whenever I ride in or on any unusual sort of conveyance I
-      make a note of it. That particular book dates far back into my childhood.
-      The idea of starting it was suggested to me by a ride I took on a tame
-      ostrich in South Africa.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      My increased respect for a young lady who had ridden upon an ostrich near,
-      if not actually in his native desert, will be understood by the
-      untraveled.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You have seen something of the world,&rdquo; I remarked.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she admitted; &ldquo;I have been about with my father a great deal. An
-      uncle of mine, who abhors what he calls globe-trotting, tells people, with
-      a look of mock commiseration on his face, that I have been everywhere
-      except at the North Pole and in a Trappist monastery. A slight
-      exaggeration that, and yet not so very far from the truth either. I have
-      visited most of the inhabited countries of the globe, I think, and I have
-      had a chance to try riding in a good many peculiar conveyances. I have
-      ridden on an elephant in India, on a dromedary in Egypt, in a sort of
-      horse-litter in Persia, in a man-carriage in Japan, in a sledge on bare
-      ground at Funchal, on a log-raft down the Rhine, on an Indian's back in
-      Mexico, in the cab of a locomotive on the Southern Pacific, in a fast
-      newspaper train out of New York, on an open car moved by gravity&mdash;and
-      moved very fast, too&mdash;on that wonderful railroad in Peru, on a small
-      landslide among the White Mountains, in a dwelling-house being moved
-      through the streets of this town, in&mdash;&mdash; but I will spare you
-      further enumeration.''
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I hope, however, that you will let me read the catalogue for myself some
-      time. I no longer wonder that so successful a collector should be eager
-      for an additional specimen. I happen to have some little acquaintance with
-      the man who runs our steam-roller; perhaps I could arrange to have your
-      wish for a ride gratified.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh, if you <i>only</i> could!&rdquo; she exclaimed, looking so hopefully
-      expectant that I secretly vowed the thing should come to pass or I would
-      know the most unanswerable of reasons why.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I had learned that Antaeus was neither a native nor a naturalized citizen
-      of our town, but that he owed allegiance to a firm of contractors in a
-      distant city, whose delegate and sole representative here was the Driver;
-      consequently if I could prevail upon him to lend Antaeus I need apprehend
-      no interference from the town authorities.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I began upon the Driver the next forenoon. My persuasiveness took a
-      conventional form, for, not being gifted with an oily tongue, I was forced
-      to trust for success in a great measure upon my chance of stupefying the
-      Driver's conscience with the fumes of several superfine cigars. I spent
-      about two hours in company with Antaeus, taking many turns up and down the
-      street with him for the special purpose of observing his manners and
-      customs. With the advice and consent of his guardian I learned to start,
-      to stop, to reverse, and to steer to my own satisfaction. I had intended
-      to broach the important question that day, but, fearing I might not yet
-      have sufficiently blunted the Driver's moral sensibilities, my courage
-      failed at the critical moment and I permitted myself the expensive luxury
-      of procrastination.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The next day I found the task no easier, and so put it off again, but on
-      the day after I awakened to the fact that delays are dangerous and made
-      the fateful plunge. I frankly told the Driver the whole story, under the
-      belief that he would be less likely to refuse the petition of a lady than
-      one made in my own name.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      If he had suspected all the while, from my persistent attentions, that I
-      had an axe to grind he did not mortify me by showing it. He accepted my
-      fifth cigar as he had my first, with an air of supposing it to be offered
-      from motives of the most disinterested friendliness.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I did not meet with success in the outset. The Driver had grave doubts as
-      to the propriety of &ldquo;loaning&rdquo; a steam-roller. Had he been a Frenchman he
-      might reasonably have urged that, like a tooth-brush, <i>ça ne se prête
-      pas</i>. However, I overcame his scruples in the end, and, probably in the
-      belief that &ldquo;if it were done 'twere well it were done quickly,&rdquo; he agreed
-      to deliver Antaeus into my charge that evening.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Accordingly, not long after sunset, I went across the street and called
-      for the young lady. I realized fully that her father and mother would not
-      have approved of our escapade, but they were absent from home and I tried
-      to believe it was not my duty to stand toward her <i>in loco parentium</i>.
-      She was a bit wilful too, and I feared my remonstrances would do no good
-      unless I carried them to the extreme of refusing my assistance, which,
-      after my ready offer of it, would have been uncivil and unkind.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      At an unfrequented spot, on a broad highway, near the outskirts of the
-      town, Antaeus and the Driver&mdash;the former under head of steam, and
-      both smoking&mdash;were awaiting us. We met them there by appointment at
-      nine o'clock. After many instructions and cautions touching the fire, the
-      water, the steam, the use of the levers, the necessity of keeping a sharp
-      lookout ahead, etc., the Driver left me in sole command, as proud as a boy
-      with his first bicycle.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You find you have got into rather close quarters here, don't you?&rdquo; said
-      I, as I perched myself upon the high seat, from which the machine was most
-      conveniently directed.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;The passenger accommodations might be more spacious, but all things
-      considered I hardly think I shall complain,&rdquo; laughingly returned my
-      companion, who had seated herself on one of the coal-boxes behind me. &ldquo;I
-      took the precaution not to wear my best frock, so I can stow myself away
-      in small compass without fear of damage.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Having in mind the trouble I had taken, her delight in the novelty of her
-      situation was highly gratifying to me. She eagerly asked about the
-      functions of the various levers, try-cocks, and gauges, and insisted upon
-      being allowed to experiment with them, as well as with the steering gear,
-      herself. The knowledge, she said, might be useful to her in the future.
-      Antaeus proved to be entirely docile and allowed himself to be guided as
-      easily as a well-broken flesh and blood horse. The big fly-wheel revolved,
-      the fussy little piston pumped up and down with an ado that seemed absurd
-      considering the slow progress resulting, the steam fretted and hissed, the
-      three massive rollers bore with all their might upon the hard surface of
-      the macadam, and thus crunching, clanking, thumping and rattling, we
-      sluggishly made our way into the obscurity of the night.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      By and by, in the course of our journey, we came to a gentle rise, the
-      ascent of which made Antaeus puff rather laboriously. For a moment my
-      passenger looked slightly uneasy. &ldquo;Why does it do that?&rdquo; she asked.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;The exertion of going up hill makes him breathe a little hard,
-      naturally,&rdquo; I answered, reassuring her. &ldquo;He is feeling in fine condition,
-      though,&rdquo; I added, inspecting the steam-gauge by the light of my lantern;
-      &ldquo;the effect of a plentiful supply of oats, doubtless.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You speak of <i>it</i> as <i>he</i>,&rdquo; she said, questioningly.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Certainly; why not?&rdquo; I retorted. &ldquo;He seems to me unequivocally
-      masculine.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;True,&rdquo; she assented; &ldquo;still in personifying inanimate objects, are they
-      not more frequently made members of the other sex?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Undoubtedly they are, but it strikes me as a ridiculous custom&mdash;particularly
-      in the case of great machines. No engine, however big, black or ungainly,
-      but it must be spoken of by the feminine pronoun. It is hardly a
-      compliment to your sex, is it? Think of the incongruity of putting, for
-      instance, a huge steamboat, named for the president of the company, into
-      the feminine gender!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      She laughed at my fancy, but her merriment did not wound my sensibilities.
-      &ldquo;So it's&mdash;I beg pardon, <i>his</i>&mdash;name is Antaeus, is it?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yes, in honor of that old giant&mdash;do you recollect?&mdash;whom
-      Hercules overcame.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;By lifting him quite off the ground, because as often as he came in
-      contact with Mother Earth his strength was renewed? Yes, I recall the
-      story, and I can see a certain propriety in the name. I rather think this
-      fellow, if he were to be lifted off the ground, could scarcely use his
-      great strength to advantage. Imagine him turned upon his back like a huge
-      beetle, kicking about frantically into the air to no purpose!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Undoubtedly he gets his grip from his contact with the earth,&rdquo; said I.
-      &ldquo;As a flying-machine he would hardly be a success.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Doesn't it strike you that he is almost unnecessarily deliberate?&rdquo; she
-      queried, presently, with a slight show of impatience; evidently the
-      novelty of the adventure was beginning to wear off.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;More so than usual for the reason that we are ascending an incline; but
-      you must remember that Antaeus was not built for speed,&rdquo; returned I,
-      defending my friend.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Evidently not. He belongs to the plodders&mdash;the slow and sure sort.
-      He would be entered for a race in the tortoise class probably. Fancy an
-      absconding cashier trying to escape from justice in a steam-roller! It
-      would be funny, wouldn't it?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      I agreed with her that it would be very funny. &ldquo;Or imagine an eloping
-      couple fleeing before an irate father on such a conveyance!&rdquo; I suggested,
-      with a consciousness of blushing in the dark for the audacity of the
-      conceit.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Now, that is good!&rdquo; she exclaimed, seizing on my idea with an eagerness
-      that showed how far her thoughts were from taking the direction in which
-      mine had dared to stray. &ldquo;What a situation for a modern realistic,
-      sensational drama!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;It might be worked up into something rather impressive, I should think.
-      In these days of bringing steamboats, pile-drivers, fire-engines, real
-      water, and railway trains in upon the stage I don't know why a
-      steam-roller might not be given a chance.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; she cried, waxing enthusiastic. &ldquo;Picture the scene. Enter
-      lovers on 'steam-roller, followed by incensed father in&mdash;in&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;In an electric-car,&rdquo; I supplied experimentally.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Pshaw! don't be foolish!&rdquo; she exclaimed thanklessly. &ldquo;Followed by father
-      in a light gig, drawn by a spirited horse. Overtakes lovers&mdash;demands
-      his daughter&mdash;young man respectfully declines to give her up. Old
-      gentleman prepares to come and take her. Is about to descend from gig when
-      steamroller whistles, spirited horse begins to prance, he is obliged to
-      keep tight hold of reins&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Very good!&rdquo; I put in approvingly. &ldquo;Stern parent threatens direst
-      vengeance, horse cavorts alarmingly, parent rages unavailingly, resolute
-      lover pushes throttle wide open with one hand and retains firm grip upon
-      the helm with the other.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;While the devoted loveress, with her own dainty hands, shovels in coal
-      and encourages him to stand firm&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;By the way, that reminds me of something,&rdquo; I interrupted and, getting off
-      my elevated seat, I bent down and opened the furnace-door; &ldquo;I rather think
-      I should have given Antaeus his supper before now.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      In truth, I had neglected the fire altogether too long. I hastily threw in
-      more coal, but it was already too late to avert the consequences of my
-      forgetfulness. The pressure of steam was diminishing and continued to
-      diminish in spite of all my efforts to prevent it. Back fell the indicator
-      upon the dial, and more and more slowly worked the machinery as the power
-      behind it became less and less.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;We shall not reach the top of the hill at the present rate,&rdquo; remarked my
-      companion. &ldquo;The vital spark appears to be in danger of extinction, so to
-      speak.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;In very great danger,&rdquo; I sorrowfully assented as, with one last feeble
-      effort, Antaeus wearily gave up the struggle.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Nor is that the worst of it,&rdquo; I added, filled with a sudden apprehension.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo; she asked, disquieted by my manner, though not yet
-      divining the inevitable outcome of the existing state of affairs.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You had better descend to <i>terra firma</i> unless you want to go back
-      down hill faster than you came up,&rdquo; I replied significantly.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; she exclaimed, comprehending the danger.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yes; the attraction of gravitation is going to take us back a deal faster
-      than Antaeus ever traveled before. Shall I help you out?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Can't you put on the brakes?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;There are none; the builders of this machine did not foresee such a
-      contingency as this. It was not to be supposed that Antaeus ever would
-      fall into the unskillful hands of a bungling, blundering amateur,&rdquo; said I,
-      calling up hard names for myself from out of the depths of my humiliation.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Don't reproach yourself,&rdquo; she begged; &ldquo;it is I who am to be blamed.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Shall I not help you out before it is too late?&rdquo; I interposed, as Antaeus
-      began to gather way.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What are you going to do,&rdquo; she demanded.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh, I shall stick to the ship,&rdquo; I answered grimly.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;But you will get hurt if you do,&rdquo; she objected.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Antaeus will get hurt if I don't. Come!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;No; I shall stay on board, too,&rdquo; she declared heroically. &ldquo;Now don't try
-      and persuade me to desert, for I shall not do it. Can't I be of some use?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Seeing that she was firm in her resolve to stand by me, I gratefully
-      accepted her offer of assistance, which indeed, was of considerable value.
-      It was important that I should keep a firm hold upon the steering wheel,
-      to prevent the craft from yawing, and, unless I were to be continually
-      screwing my head about in a very painful position, I could not very well
-      see the road over which we were traveling. From a position between the
-      coal-boxes behind me&mdash;now the front of the conveyance&mdash;she could
-      keep a look-out and pass the word to me when it became necessary to
-      correct the deviations in our course. Without her help, it is more than
-      probable that I should have run Antaeus ignominiottsly, perhaps
-      disastrously, into a ditch before reaching the foot of the incline. Even
-      as it was, I had my hands full.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      During the ride, which certainly was one of the most disquieting, mentally
-      and physically, that I ever have taken, we said very little to each other.
-      I gripped the wheel, and she grasped the iron sides of the coal-bunkers,
-      between which she stood, opening her lips only to call, &ldquo;right! left!&rdquo; or
-      &ldquo;steady!&rdquo; as I had hastily instructed her to do for my guidance in
-      steering. So we rumbled and rattled and jolted on down the hill, at
-      continually increasing speed, until at length we reached the base, and I
-      drew a deep breath of relief at knowing that the worst was over.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Arrived upon a level, our momentum gradually expended itself. From an
-      estimated ten-mile rate&mdash;which had seemed terrific&mdash;we slowed to
-      a five, to a three, to a one, to a snail's pace, and then something
-      occurred which, although not threatening any danger to us personally,
-      filled our minds with the liveliest anxiety for the safety of others.
-      Antaeus came to a stand-still just across the railway track.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; said my passenger, inquiringly.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; I returned, blankly, as I pulled my watch from my pocket, &ldquo;this is&mdash;interesting,
-      to say the least.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Are there&mdash;how about trains?&rdquo; she queried anxiously.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      During the jolting of our forced&mdash;and forcible&mdash;descent our
-      lantern had gone out; but there was an electric lamp near, and by its
-      light I managed to read the hour upon my watch-dial.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;There is a train leaving the city at ten, due here at ten-seventeen; it
-      now lacks five minutes of that. I must go to the station and report that
-      the way is blocked. I am sorry to leave you&mdash;or would you prefer
-      going while I wait here?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I think it will be better for you to go.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Very well, then; I'll not be long.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0042" id="linkimage-0042"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0220.jpg" alt="0220 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0220.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      This promise of mine was ill-advised. I hurried up the track to the
-      station, only to find it locked and deserted. It was not the principal
-      station of the town, being one of the half-dozen smaller ones strung at
-      short intervals along the line. In all probability it would not be opened
-      until a few minutes before train-time. As I knew the outcoming train would
-      stop at that station, and thus give me a chance to warn the engineer of
-      the obstruction ahead, I did not feel particularly alarmed at not finding
-      the agent at once. Still I was conscious of some nervous uneasiness while
-      awaiting his arrival.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      At last he came leisurely across the street, jingling his keys as he
-      walked. As soon as he stepped foot upon the platform I went to 'him and
-      began to tell my story. I had not proceeded far with it ere he interrupted
-      me with a startled ejaculation.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Great Scott! The White Mountain express!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What? What do you mean?&rdquo; I gasped,
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;New train&mdash;put on yesterday&mdash;passes here on the way in at
-      ten-ten, and it's more than that now!&rdquo; he exclaimed in staccato, as he
-      hastily unlocked the station door, and, putting in his hand, seized a red
-      lantern that had been sitting ready lighted on the floor within.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      He did not waste any more time with me, but rushed along to the end of the
-      platform, and then began to run with all his might down the track. I
-      succeeded in following him at not too great a distance, although I was
-      turning sick and giddy with all sorts of horrible apprehensions. Visions
-      of a frightful wreck photographed themselves on my brain, the shrieks of
-      the dying sounded prophetically in my ears, and in the midst of it all I
-      was selfishly deploring the fact that I should be called on to pay the
-      damages&mdash;at least to Antaeus&mdash;and wondering if I could contrive
-      to get a hardware discount off the market price of steam-rollers.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The crossing was still hidden from us around a curve when a shrill
-      whistling broke upon my startled ears.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;T-o-o-t!&mdash;t-o-o-t! Toot! toot!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The agent uttered an explosive invocation to the Deity, and added in tones
-      of despair:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;We're too late; she's onto us!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Still we staggered mechanically forward, until suddenly, with a cry of
-      warning, the agent sprang aside, and the express went thundering by.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;See here, young man,&rdquo; my companion exclaimed angrily, &ldquo;if this is a
-      put-up job&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;But it is not!&rdquo; I interposed with indignant protest. &ldquo;I don't understand
-      it any better than you do. Certainly I left Ant&mdash;the roller sprawled
-      across both tracks.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Well, I guess it ain't there now,&rdquo; dryly remarked the agent, watching the
-      rear lights of the fast-receding train, until they were swallowed up in
-      the glare of the &ldquo;local's&rdquo; head-light. &ldquo;I must run back,&rdquo; he added,
-      recalled to a sense of his duties. &ldquo;You take this lantern and go and see
-      if the outward track is clear. Stand between the rails and swing the
-      lantern if it ain't. I'll tell the engineer to go slow and be on the
-      lookout.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      In another minute I was at the crossing. I looked up and down the street
-      for Antaeus, but neither he nor the young lady were to be seen. If that
-      Hercules of a locomotive actually had lifted him into the air and carried
-      him off his absence could not have been more conspicuous. But naturally
-      such a feat>could not have been accomplished, nor had it been attempted.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The real explanation of the mysterious disappearance was this. During my
-      absence the fire under the boiler had been getting up, until finally
-      enough steam had made to start the machinery and so the roller had been
-      enabled to roll itself away out of danger.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I was about to start toward town, under the supposition that Antaeus had
-      taken that direction, when I chanced to recollect that with the levers as
-      I had left them he naturally must go just the opposite way&mdash;that is,
-      retrace the course over which he had lately come. Accordingly I set out on
-      the run toward the hill. Near the foot of it I found him, diagonaled off
-      the road-side with his nose against a tree, loudly hissing in impotent
-      rage at the unwelcome bar to his progress.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I jumped into the engineer's place, reversed the machinery, and without
-      very much trouble succeeded in getting him back into the road and started
-      on the homeward way. I was putting to myself an uneasy question as to the
-      whereabouts of my passenger, when, to my relief, I heard her voice close
-      at hand.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Is it all right?&rdquo; she inquired anxiously; &ldquo;I feared it was going to blow
-      up or something, it made such a horribly distressing noise.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;That very noise was a guarantee that he was <i>not</i> going to blow up,&rdquo;
-       I replied, bringing Antaeus to a stop. &ldquo;He was merely getting rid of
-      superfluous steam through the safety-.valve. I am very glad to find you
-      again. Will you ride? I think we shall get on smoothly this time.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Rather hesitatingly she allowed me to help her in. Then, after taking the
-      precaution to add some fuel to the fire, and to inspect the steam and
-      water indicators by the light of my borrowed red lantern, I opened the
-      throttle and started on again.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Did the train frighten you?&rdquo; I bethought myself to ask, presently.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh, don't speak of it,&rdquo; she returned with a shudder; &ldquo;I heard it coming
-      from two or three miles away, and when it got nearer and nearer and you
-      did not return I was almost frantic. But I couldn't do anything. I don't
-      think it was more than a quarter of a mile distant, with the light
-      gleaming along the rails and making it seem even nearer, when the roller
-      began to move&mdash;but, oh, how slowly! I thought I should&mdash;well, if
-      my hair hasn't turned gray from that scare it never will do so until the
-      natural time for it comes, I am sure.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Well, the old fellow got off in time, evidently.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yes; but with hardly a second to spare. He hadn't cleared the rails of
-      the other track when the train passed. It was a frightfully narrow
-      margin.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You were not on board all this while, I hope.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh, no; that would have been too foolhardy. But when I saw it was making
-      off I didn't want it&mdash;I mean <i>him</i>&mdash;to go careering and
-      cavorting about the country alone, so I climbed up and tried to take
-      command. You showed me how to use the reversing-lever, and it all seemed
-      easy when you were here, but when I was alone I didn't dare touch it for
-      fear something disastrous would happen. All I ventured to do was to take
-      the wheel and keep, him in the road&mdash;or rather try to do so, for I
-      didn't succeed very well. My strength was not equal to it. He swerved a
-      little and then got to going more and more on the bias, until at last,
-      despite all I could do to the contrary, he ran off against a tree and was
-      obliged to stop. Soon afterward that hissing noise began, and, fearing an
-      explosion, I ran and got behind the wall on the other side of the street,
-      and then&mdash;then you came. I don't think I ever was more rejoiced to
-      see anybody in all my life.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      I resisted a temptation to make a speech, which, however much in earnest I
-      was, might have sounded silly, and contented myself with remarking that I
-      was glad to have arrived in such good time, and I turned my attention to
-      the taking of her&mdash;and Antaeus&mdash;safe home.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I could not get to sleep after going to bed that night. The evening's
-      experience of itself was hardly a soporific, but there was yet another
-      matter to occupy my thoughts and prevent my sleeping. Should I venture at
-      the next favorable opportunity to put a certain question to a certain
-      person? If I did so what answer should I receive? I hoped and I feared and
-      I doubted concerning the sentiments of the said certain person toward my
-      unworthy self. I revolved the thing in my mind until there seemed to be
-      little else there but revolution. Progress in any direction, certainly
-      there was none. My body was hardly less restless than my mind.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      At three o'clock it flashed across me like a revelation, that I was
-      hungry. I had eaten a light supper hours ago, and now my stomach was
-      eloquent with emptiness; while the blood which should be doing good
-      service there was pulsing madly about in my brain to no purpose. I went
-      down stairs and inspected the contents of the ice-chest. Roast pork and
-      brown bread make rather a hearty late supper, but breakfast time was so
-      near I thought I would risk them&mdash;and a good deal of them.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Returning to my room, I set a lamp upon a stand at the head of the bed
-      and, taking the first book that came to hand&mdash;it chanced to be an
-      Italian grammar&mdash;I began to read. I had gone as far in the
-      introduction as &ldquo;CC like t-ch in hatchet,&rdquo; when I grew drowsy. I laid down
-      the book, my eyelids drooped, and there is good circumstantial evidence
-      that a moment later I fell asleep, lying on my back with the upper half of
-      my body bent into the form of a bow.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      My slumbers were visited by a dream&mdash;a nightmare, composed, I
-      estimate, of cold roast pork and brown bread, uncomfortable bodily
-      position, the memory of certain occurrences in my past history, and an
-      event to be described later. In this dream Antaeus figured largely. He
-      seemed to come rolling across the bed, and me, until he had stopped upon
-      my chest and stomach.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0043" id="linkimage-0043"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0228.jpg" alt="0228 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0228.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What are you doing?&rdquo; I asked in alarm. &ldquo;Do you know you are crushing me?
-      Get away!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I dare say I am. I <i>weigh</i> fifteen tons,&rdquo; Antaeus replied, heavily
-      jocose. &ldquo;I say,&rdquo; he continued with a burst of anger, &ldquo;you are an
-      honorable, high-minded sort of person, you are. What do you mean by
-      treating me so? Have you forgotten our compact? I have given you every
-      chance man could ask for with <i>her</i>; what have you done for me in
-      return? Nothing. Even worse than nothing. To faithlessness you have added
-      treachery. Not content with deceiving me, you have sought to destroy me. I
-      suppose you hoped to see my <i>débris</i> strewn along the iron way.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      I was conscience-stricken by his accusations; but I could refute a part of
-      them. &ldquo;Oh, no! oh, no!&rdquo; I protested, &ldquo;it was an accident, I assure you. So
-      far from desiring such a thing, I declare that I cannot even imagine your
-      being reduced to <i>débris</i>. I&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Bah!&rdquo; roared Antaeus, and in his rage he began to belch forth smoke&mdash;smoke
-      so thick and black that I thought I should be stifled by it. In another
-      moment I awoke gasping.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      One feature of my dream was a reality&mdash;the smoke. The room was filled
-      with it, and there were flames beside. As nearly as I can guess, the
-      situation on which I opened my eyes had been thus brought about. While I
-      slept the wind had risen and, pushing inward the shade at the open window,
-      had pressed it against the small, unstable stand until the latter had been
-      tipped over, bringing the lighted lamp to the floor. The muslin curtains
-      had caught fire; from them the straw matting, kerosene-soaked, had flamed
-      up, so that now a pretty lively blaze was in progress.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I sprang off the bed, made a snatch at some of my clothes, and got out of
-      the room as soon as possible. After I had helped save everything portable,
-      that could be saved without risk to life, I went and stood before the
-      house in the cool air of the early dawn and watched the struggle between
-      flames and flood. In the midst of my perturbation I noticed something that
-      struck me as being worthy of remark. I had left Antaeus at the edge of the
-      roadway before our gate; now the fire-engine, Electra, had been drawn up
-      beside him. He was maintaining strict silence, but I hoped he was being
-      well entertained, for Electra kept up an incessant buzzing&mdash;woman
-      like, quite willing to do all of the talking. At any rate my share of our
-      compact was now fulfilled; Antaeus and I were quits.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      In the later morning I saw the young lady. My misfortunes called forth
-      from her expressions of sincerest pity; indeed, she bitterly reproached
-      herself for having been the direct cause of them. When I described my
-      narrow escape from death by suffocation, she grew so pale that I thought
-      she must feel considerable interest in me, although I immediately
-      reflected that it could not be very pleasant to have one's next-door
-      neighbor roasted alive.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      By-and-by I told her of my two dreams, and of the way in which I finally
-      kept faith with Antaeus.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;It is a shame that you had to burn up your house to do it,&rdquo; she
-      commented, &ldquo;when a brush-heap might have answered the purpose quite as
-      well.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      I thought&mdash;or I hoped&mdash;that the time had come for making a
-      decisive move with some chance of its being effective. I furtively
-      possessed myself of her hand.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I should not regret the house so much,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;if I might hope you
-      would deign to extend to me the favor with which Electra has made Antaeus
-      happy.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      This was bunglingly put, but she understood me well enough, although she
-      murmured in reply:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You have it already; we are&mdash;acquainted. Surely you don't want&mdash;anything&mdash;more.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      But she did not withdraw her hand.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I have just heard that the town fathers contemplate purchasing Antaeus and
-      giving him a permanent residence &ldquo;within our borders.&rdquo; If this report be
-      true, I shall use all my influence&mdash;from motives of gratitude&mdash;to
-      have him lodged beside the engine-house, so that he may be near his
-      bewitching Electra.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0044" id="linkimage-0044"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0238.jpg" alt="0238 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0238.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div style="height: 4em;">
-      <br /><br /><br /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h2>
-      WHICH MISS CHARTERIS? By C. G. Rogers
-    </h2>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0045" id="linkimage-0045"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0239.jpg" alt="0239 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0239.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0046" id="linkimage-0046"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="figleft" style="width:20%;">
-      <img src="images/9239.jpg" alt="9239 " width="100%" /><br /><a
-      href="images/9239.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </div>
-    <p>
-      AVING completed his breakfast, Mr. Percy Darley seated himself in a n
-      easy-chair, facing the cheerful grate-fire of ruddy anthracite, placed his
-      toes upon the fender, and relapsed into a thoughtful contemplation of
-      Leonard's letter.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You had best come, my dear boy,&rdquo; said the letter. &ldquo;It is a sleepy little
-      town&mdash;one of those idyllic Acadian places of which you used to rave
-      when you were tired of the city and fretful at her ways. We can smoke our
-      pipes and chat over the old days, before a fire in my big, old-fashioned
-      grate. There is a noble stretch of clear ice here now. Our little river is
-      frozen over, solid and safe, and the darkest prospects do not foreshadow
-      another fall of snow for a fortnight. The sleighing is superb; and, as
-      Madeline Bridges says, 'the nights are splendid.' Pack up your traps and
-      come.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The invitation was an alluring one, thought Darley. His head ached, and
-      his heart was sick of the everlasting round of parties and calls and
-      suppers. What a vision of beatific rest that idea of a chat over old
-      times! Ah, dear old times of childhood and youth, when our tears are as
-      ephemeral as our spendthrift dimes!
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      There seemed to be only one rational preclusion&mdash;to wit, Miss
-      Charteris. Not that he thought Miss Charteris would personally object to
-      his absence, but, rather, that <i>he</i> had an objection to leaving Miss
-      Charteris. Miss Charteris was an heiress, and a handsome woman; to be
-      brief, Miss Charteris being rich, and our friend Darley having the
-      millstone of debt about his neck, he had determined, if possible, to wed
-      her. If he went away, however, at this period of his acquaintance, when
-      the heiress and he were becoming fast friends, some one else would
-      doubtless step into the easy shoes of attention.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      So Darley went down into the city and telegraphed his friend Leonard that
-      he would be in Dutton on the evening train. He thought he should like to
-      see Miss Charteris, however, before going. He walked back slowly along a
-      particularly favorite drive of hers, and presently met this young lady
-      with her stylish little turn-out, looking very radiant and happy on this
-      bright winter morning.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      There was some one with her&mdash;a fact Darley noticed with no great
-      feeling of pleasure. It was not a strange thing; but, following the course
-      of things as they had been for the past few weeks, it should have been
-      Darley himself. This morning it was a sallow, dark young man whom Darley
-      did not remember having seen before.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Darley explained that he was about to leave town for a few weeks, as soon
-      as Miss Charteris had drawn up alongside the pavement to wish him
-      goodmorning. Then she introduced him to her companion. &ldquo;A very old friend&mdash;Mr.
-      Severance&mdash;just arrived from Australia.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Dear old Dutton!&rdquo; said Miss Charteris, looking reminiscent. &ldquo;You must not
-      break any trusting hearts down there, Mr. Darley; for the Dutton maids are
-      not only lovely, but proverbially trusting.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You know Dutton, then?&rdquo; Darley answered, surprised.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh, yes! I have a very dear aunt in Dutton&mdash;oh, but you will see! I
-      spent some of my happiest days there. So did you, I think, Lawrence.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mr. Severance reflectively, &ldquo;days almost as happy as the
-      present day. Don't you think, Mr. Darley, that a man's best years cluster
-      round the age of ten?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Darley could not help agreeing to this. All men, provided their youth has
-      been happy, think so. Darley said good-by, and walked on.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Who was this fellow Severance? <i>She</i> called him Lawrence&mdash;<i>Lawrence</i>,
-      by Jove! There was something in it&mdash;rather old schoolmates, too, they
-      had been, and what might they not be now? It was more pique than
-      disappointment which caused Darley to wish momentarily that he was not
-      scheduled for Dutton. However, he must stand the hazard of the die.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      His things were soon packed; he also supplied himself with a box of the
-      cigars Leonard and he used to love in &ldquo;the days that are no more,&rdquo; and a
-      copy of &ldquo;Outing.&rdquo; And ten hours later the train, with a jovial roar, ran
-      into the little town, where the lights gleamed cozily against the snowy
-      background, and the sleigh-bells seemed to bid him a merry, musical
-      welcome.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      A short, erect, trimly built man with a finely chiseled face and a brown
-      skin that seemed to breathe of pine woods and great wide, sunlit rivers
-      grasped Darley's hand as he stepped to the platform.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Well, old man!&rdquo; exclaimed the brown man, cheerily. &ldquo;Awfully glad you've
-      come! Come this way! Here we are, Joseph! Step in!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;By Jove! it <i>is</i> wintry here, isn't it?&rdquo; said Darley, as he slid
-      under the buffalo robes. &ldquo;What a peerless night!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      After supper the two men made themselves thoroughly comfortable in great
-      leather chairs before Leonard's promised fire, and smoked and chatted.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You look just the same, old boy,&rdquo; said Leonard, scanning Darley
-      carefully. &ldquo;But the hair is a little thin in front there, and I think I
-      see the growing spot of baldness, as Ike Marvel has it. Did you ever read
-      that great book of his, 'A Bachelor's Reveries?' No? Well, you should. I
-      find it sweetest company. Yes, you are the same old sobersides&mdash;a
-      great deal deeper than you look, as the little boy said when he fell into
-      the well. And not married yet, eh?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Who, the little boy?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;No; you, you rogue! I should have thought you would have gone off long
-      ago.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;A hard question to answer. Are we not always in a condition of mild
-      wonder that our friends have not gone over to the married ranks, when we
-      ourselves have not? However, from floating gossip&mdash;that tongue's
-      flotsam&mdash;I have heard that you meditate going over.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Eh?&rdquo; said Darley, pricking up his ears.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; answered Leonard, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, &ldquo;Beau Brummel
-      cannot pay court to a beauty without the world knowing it! I, even I, have
-      heard of Miss Bella Charteris. She is not the sort of girl, if I may make
-      so bold, that I would have imagined you pinning yourself to. I should have
-      thought some quiet, sober, angelic little woman like&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Like who?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Well, I was going to say like her sister,&rdquo; said Leonard softly, bending
-      his head over his pipe as he slowly refilled it. &ldquo;But you do not know her
-      sister, I think.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Why, I did not even know Miss Charteris had a sister!&rdquo; exclaimed Dar-ley
-      in amazement.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;No? Why, Miss Florence Charteris lives here&mdash;in Dutton!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Miss Charteris mentioned an aunt, and hinted at some one else whom she
-      said I would see, now that I think of it.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Irony, I suppose,&rdquo; said Leonard quietly, smiling a queer little smile.
-      &ldquo;Yes, Miss Charteris the second lives in Dutton: a quaint, gray little
-      life, good, patient, and God-like. She is the sweet angel of Dutton. But
-      tell me, Percy, are you in love with your Miss Charteris?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I am afraid she is not my Miss Charteris,&rdquo; said Darley, smiling. &ldquo;And to
-      be candid with you, Jack, I am not in love with her&mdash;for which,
-      perhaps, I should be thankful. However, if Miss Charteris <i>does</i>
-      accept me, which I think is highly improbable, I shall marry her for
-      money.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Leonard shook his head. &ldquo;I thought that was the way the wind lay,&rdquo; he said
-      sagaciously. &ldquo;Don't do it,&rdquo; he added tersely, after a pause. &ldquo;Take an old
-      fool's advice&mdash;don't do it. I think you would only live to regret
-      having sold yourself into bondage. That is what it would amount to in your
-      case. You are not built upon rough enough lines, I know, not to care at
-      having your poverty sneered at and constantly thrown in your face. It is a
-      puzzle to me how any man with any sense of independence and honor can sell
-      himself, as some men do; and it is beyond my understanding how <i>you</i>,
-      with your fine feelings and high ideal of manhood, ever thought of such a
-      thing.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      This was certainly rubbing it in, Dar-ley thought. But, then, Leonard was
-      such an exceptionally odd fellow, with his one-man-in-a-million code of
-      chivalry and his ethical eccentricities. Still, Darley shrunk at the
-      castigation, because he knew that the feelings that prompted it were
-      sincere.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;But I am terribly in debt, Jack,&rdquo; he said, almost deprecatingly. &ldquo;What is
-      there left for me to do?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What is there left? The opportunity to fight it out!&rdquo; retorted Leonard.
-      &ldquo;Retrench. In a year, or two at most, unless you are <i>hopelessly</i>
-      insolvent, if you live without the profitless pleasures that have brought
-      you to this pass, you can come out triumphantly independent.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Darley shook his head. &ldquo;I am afraid I could not stand the strain, Jack,&rdquo;
-       he answered, almost sadly. &ldquo;A fellow of your caliber might. How is it, by
-      the way, that you yourself are still in single harness?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Leonard was silent, gazing in the coals with almost a melancholy air.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Perhaps I should not say so,&rdquo; he said at last, &ldquo;yet you have been so
-      frank with me; but I do not like the subject when applied to myself.
-      However, there is but one answer, which is embodied in that one word that
-      hangs like a pall before the eyes of the young literary aspirant&mdash;<i>refused</i>.
-      I shall always be single, Darley. Always the same old solitary sixpence,
-      with my rods and guns and dogs and books. Not bad companions, all of them,
-      when used well&mdash;faithful, too. Eh, Rosy?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The beautiful hound addressed raised her head and looked pathetically at
-      her master, rubbing her nose in a sympathetic way against his leg.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Darley felt deeply interested. &ldquo;What was the trouble, old fellow?&rdquo; he
-      ventured.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;The whole story is contained in that one word&mdash;refused. I never
-      cared for but one woman; and <i>she</i> did not care for me&mdash;at
-      least, not enough to marry. Which was, after all, the most natural thing
-      in the world, I suppose. I could not blame her, could I, since I would
-      only marry for love myself? It is not much of a story, is it?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;On the contrary, I think there is a great deal in it!&rdquo; answered Darley,
-      warmly. &ldquo;I think I see that you loved this woman as only men with hearts
-      like yours can love&mdash;once and for all.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Loved her? My love has no past participle, Darley! I shall always love
-      her! I shall always think her the sweetest woman in the world, and the
-      best! There is no other like her&mdash;God bless her! But you are sleepy,
-      old fellow; and even Rosy is yawning and thinks it is time all decent
-      people went to bed. Let us have one of the old-time horns, one of those
-      old camp-fire nips&mdash;and then to bed. To-morrow you shall see our
-      little town. By the way, did you bring your skates?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Skates! I haven't seen one for five years.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Never mind. I have a dozen pairs, and I dare say we can fit you. Do you
-      curl? No? Well, you shall learn. We have the finest rink within a hundred
-      miles. Here's your room, old fellow! Good-night, and rosy dreams and
-      slumbers bright, as Sir Walter says.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The days passed happily for Darley. The ice was perfect; and though he had
-      not skated for years, his old power over the art came swiftly back. The
-      river was one glaring, narrow, indefinite sheet of incomparable ice. Then
-      there was the curling-rink, of which Leonard was an ardent devotee. It is
-      a quiet, satisfying sport, this &ldquo;roaring&rdquo; game, and has peculiar charms
-      for the man who has turned forty. The snow-bird shooting was good, too,
-      out in the broad white fields beyond the town. And one glittering night
-      the pair drove out into the country, and went on a hunt after some
-      depredatory foxes with some farmers. They did not get the foxes; but they
-      had a jolly supper at the farm-house, and an eight-hand reel in the
-      kitchen, which Darley thoroughly enjoyed&mdash;more, he affirmed to his
-      black-eyed partner, than any ball in the city he had ever attended.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      One morning, Leonard having some business to detain him, Darley went off
-      alone for the customary spin down the river. Skating out of the town and
-      away past the white fields and the farmhouses, he presently espied a small
-      feminine figure ahead of him, gliding quietly along. Suddenly the figure
-      tripped and fell. One skate had come off and flew out to the center of the
-      ice.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Darley sped to the rescue. The little figure in gray made a futile attempt
-      to rise.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0047" id="linkimage-0047"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0252.jpg" alt="0252 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0252.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Are you hurt?&rdquo; exclaimed the rescuer as he wheeled to a short stop.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The lady looked up, and Darley saw the likeness in an instant. It was the
-      other Miss Charteris&mdash;not at all like his acquaintance of the city. A
-      rather pale, patient little face, with quiet gray eyes set far apart; a
-      plain face, Darley said to himself. But on second thought he decided that
-      it was not.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I am afraid I have hurt my ankle,&rdquo; said this little woman in answer to
-      Darley's inquiry. &ldquo;I tried to stand up, but I got a twinge that told me
-      something was wrong.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Let me help you. Which foot is it?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;This one,&rdquo; indicating the foot minus the skate.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Darley lifted her up. &ldquo;Now you keep the injured member off the ice,&rdquo; he
-      said, &ldquo;and I will skate you to shore.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;It was all my fault,&rdquo; said the patient, as Darley knelt down and removed
-      the remaining skate. &ldquo;I would put on these old-fashioned things just
-      because the blades are splendid.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Darley secured the refractory skate and removed his own. Then he asked how
-      the ankle felt.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Miss Charteris attempted to stand upon both feet, but sat down upon the
-      bank instantly.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;It <i>does</i> hurt,&rdquo; she said, as if unwilling to admit the painful
-      fact. She looked at Darley almost appealingly, then about her. The nearest
-      house was a quarter of a mile away. Finally she looked back at Darley,
-      with an expression that seemed to say, What are we going to do now, I
-      wonder?
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Darley made up his mind quickly. He always did when a woman was in the
-      question. &ldquo;You can't walk,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;I shall have to carry you.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Miss Charteris' pale cheeks assumed a rapid flush. &ldquo;I can walk,&rdquo; she said,
-      hastily.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; said Darley, gently. &ldquo;Take my arm.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      A few painful steps proved to Miss Charteris that she <i>could</i> walk,
-      at the expense of excruciating agony. So, being a sensible little soul,
-      she stopped.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You see, it is impossible,&rdquo; said her knight. &ldquo;You will have to let me
-      carry you, Miss Charteris. I beg your pardon for not introducing myself. I
-      am Mr. Percy Darley, a guest at Mr. John Leonard's.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I knew you were Mr. Darley, but I don't see how you knew that I was Miss
-      Charteris,&rdquo; said that young lady, looking surprised, and quite forgetting
-      her ankle.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I have the pleasure of knowing your sister, and I recognized the
-      likeness,&rdquo; answered Darley, truthfully. &ldquo;Now, will you allow me? Or I am
-      afraid I shall have to take the law into my own hands.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I am not the law,&rdquo; retorted Miss Charteris, attempting to proceed.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;The very reason that I should become the law,&rdquo; answered Darley, laughing.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I think I can <i>hop</i>,&rdquo; said the girl, desperately. She did so for a
-      few yards, and then came to a last halt. Hopping through deep snow proved
-      rather heavy exercise.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I am afraid you will have to carry me,&rdquo; she said in a tone of surrender.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Darley picked her up. She was no weight, this little gray thing, and
-      Darley was an athletic young man. Despite the snow, it did not take him
-      long to reach the farm-house.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The farmer's wife was a kind soul, and knew Miss Charteris. She also knew
-      a sprain, she said, when she saw one; and Miss Charteris' ankle was
-      sprained. So, while the injured member was being attended to by the deft
-      hand of the farmer's wife, Darley posted off to the town for Miss
-      Charteris' aunt's sleigh, the farmer being absent with his own.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Darley secured the sleigh, drove back to the farm-house, and his charge,
-      her ankle warmly and carefully wrapped up, was placed in the cutter and
-      driven home. The family doctor had already arrived, and Darley took his
-      leave.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;May I call and see how you are get-ing on?&rdquo; he ventured as he said
-      good-by.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I shall be happy if you will,&rdquo; said Miss Charteris. But the gray eyes
-      seemed to say to Darley, Could you think of not doing so?
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I am afraid you are in love, or on the way,&rdquo; said this young man to
-      himself as he walked briskly to his friend's house. &ldquo;In love, young
-      fellow, and with a real woman, not a woman of the world, but a genuine
-      sweet woman, one worth the loving.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      He related the story as simply as he could to Leonard, and the latter
-      listened quietly. But Darley did not observe the odd look in his friend's
-      eyes during the narration, nor did he guess that Leonard was saying to
-      himself, Ah! my young friend, and have you, too, fallen at the first
-      shaft?
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Shall we go round to the rink?&rdquo; suggested Leonard the following evening,
-      after dinner, as they sat over their pipes.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I think I will stroll round and see how Miss Charteris is,&rdquo; said Darley,
-      smoking furiously. &ldquo;I will call in at the rink afterward, eh?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Very well, old fellow,&rdquo; was all Leonard said.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Darley found Miss Charteris' ankle improved. The doctor had pronounced it
-      a severe sprain, had prescribed some wonderful liniment, and had
-      alleviated the pain.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;But I shall not be able to be out again for three weeks,&rdquo; said the
-      invalid, plaintively, on the occasion of a second visit of anxious
-      inquiry. &ldquo;It is too bad; for I think open-air skating the most
-      exhilarating of all sport! It always seems to lift me up.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;It didn't seem to lift you up yesterday,&rdquo; suggested Darley.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;No, indeed. I have thought since that I should be very grateful to you,
-      because, if you had not happened along, I am sure I don't know what I
-      should have done.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Don't talk like that, please,&rdquo; said Darley, gravely. It is wonderful the
-      aversion a young man has to being thanked in a case of this sort&mdash;at
-      least, his profession of dislike. &ldquo;I cannot tell you how unfortunate I
-      regard the doctor's mandate,&rdquo; said Darley after one of those awkward
-      pauses between two young people who fancy, on a short acquaintance, that
-      they have a tender regard for each other. &ldquo;On your own account, of course,
-      because I can understand how you feel over losing such a chance as the
-      present ice affords; but chiefly, I am selfish enough to say, on my own
-      behalf, because by the time you are able to skate again, even if the ice
-      is still good, my visit will have come to an end; and I had been hoping,
-      presumptuously enough, I know, to see you often.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Will it be really imperative for you to return so soon?&rdquo; said Miss
-      Charteris, working rapidly at the woolen hood on which she was engaged.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I am afraid so,&rdquo; answered Darley, with something very like a sigh. &ldquo;I
-      could not infringe on too much of Leonard's time&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Ah! it is not the city which calls, then?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;No, it is not the city,&rdquo; answered Darley, laughing, and being angrily
-      conscious that he was flushing. &ldquo;But Jack is such a dear good fellow, that
-      I know he would not dream of sending me away.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Miss Charteris' eyes were on her work, and she plied her fingers rapidly.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Do you know Leonard very well, Miss Charteris?&rdquo; continued Darley, as the
-      girl did not venture a remark.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh, yes!&rdquo; The tone might have suggested that Miss Charteris was agitated;
-      but Darley went on, radiant and sublimely ignorant.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;He is a grand fellow&mdash;the one man in the world that I would fall
-      down and worship! I think Shakespeare must have had him in his vaticinal
-      eye when he put those perfect words, that immortal eulogy, in the mouth of
-      Antony: 'His life was gentle; and the elements so mixed in him that Nature
-      might stand up and say to all the world, '<i>this</i> was a man!'&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The maid came in and asked if she should light the lamps.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Not just yet. I prefer this twilight. Do you, Mr. Darley?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Very much&mdash;for itself. It is very satisfying and soothing, and
-      always seems to me like a benediction. But it is very bad for your eyes,
-      and very soon I shall be only able to half see your face.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Which will be very good for <i>your</i> eyes. Well, I have done work for
-      today.&rdquo; Miss Charteris laid the hood away, which Darley had been regarding
-      curiously, and folded her hands in her lap. The action and the moment made
-      Darley think of the &ldquo;Angelus;&rdquo; the &ldquo;Angelus&rdquo; made him think that it was
-      getting late, and that made him think that it was time to go. The lamps,
-      he said, had come round, and&mdash;&mdash;
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;No, sit down, unless you really want to go,&rdquo; said Miss Charteris. She was
-      remarkably frank, this young lady. &ldquo;The lamps have not come round; and, on
-      the contrary, I think that my disinclination for them should be taken as
-      proof that I do not think it is time for you to go. Besides, the days are
-      cruelly short now.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I find them so,&rdquo; answered Darley, softly. &ldquo;Leonard is making everything
-      so comfortable for me that I do not know what I shall feel like when the
-      curtain has rung down. It will seem like awaking suddenly from dreamland
-      to cold earth again. I am sure I shall feel like one of those mountains
-      falling into the sea of dullness that Poe describes: 'Mountains toppling
-      evermore into seas without a shore.'&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You seem a great admirer of Mr. Leonard,&rdquo; ventured Miss Charteris. There
-      was just the slightest suspicion of jealousy in her tone, which Darley did
-      not notice. Was it because he had inadvertently attributed his loneliness
-      at leaving to his friend's kindness, and not paid her that little tribute
-      of homage which women love? But who knoweth the heart of woman? Darley
-      longed to tell her why he should feel lonely when he came to say good-by;
-      but he did not wish to garnish such a declaration with quotations from
-      poets. Let a man speak from the inspiration of the moment when he tells
-      his love, or hints at it.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Admirer!&rdquo; he echoed, in reply to Miss Charteris' remark. &ldquo;It is more than
-      that. Just think! We were inseparable for years. I wish we had remained
-      so. No one who knows Jack Leonard as I have known him could help thinking
-      him a perfect man, noble and generous, as he is!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;We are one in that opinion,&rdquo; answered Miss Charteris, quietly. &ldquo;And, next
-      to esteeming a noble man, I can esteem his friend who can speak so
-      unselfishly and sincerely of him, as you have done.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Darley felt touched&mdash;not so much at the words, but at the way in
-      which they were spoken, gently, deeply, as if breathing of sincereness.
-      But he did not distinguish anything beyond that in the grave eulogy to
-      Leonard and himself.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      At length the lights <i>had</i> to be brought in, and Darley rose to go.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You said you felt it unfortunate that I should be unable to skate,
-      because you had been hoping to see me often,&rdquo; said Miss Charteris. She was
-      conscious of a slight flush, but she went bravely on. In certain
-      circumstances a woman <i>has</i> to be what prudes call bold. &ldquo;Did you
-      mean it?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;How could you doubt that I meant it? I certainly did mean it.&rdquo; Darley was
-      a little confused by this frankness. All true women must be coquettes in
-      some degree, was Darley's creed. But Miss Charteris was hardly a coquette
-      even in a slight degree, he thought. It was not frivolousness that
-      prompted her to speak in this way.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Because, if you meant it,&rdquo; continued this charming young person, &ldquo;I shall
-      be glad if you will come and see me as often as you like, if you will not
-      find it dull.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Miss Spooner, Miss Charteris' aunt, came in at this moment and spoiled the
-      eloquent look of reproach that Darley gave her niece.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Did you ever see such a girl!&rdquo; exclaimed Miss Spooner in her high but
-      pleasant voice. Miss Spooner's speech was emphatic, and endowed with
-      realism. Darley felt like saying that he never had, indeed. &ldquo;<i>I</i>
-      never did! Going into mourning, I believe, because she can't go out and
-      break another ankle! You wouldn't catch <i>me</i> on that ice! I saw it
-      to-day from the bridge&mdash;horrible, shiny, treacherous stuff! Not going
-      already, Mr. Darley? Better stop to tea.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Darley said he could not stop to tea <i>that evening</i>; which meant that
-      he could some other evening, of course, and would be unspeakably happy to
-      do so. All of which Miss Spooner understood; and so she extended her
-      hospitality to him for the next evening.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Do you know, Percy, I believe you are going to marry Miss Charteris,&rdquo;
-       said Leonard, quietly, one evening. &ldquo;<i>Our</i> Miss Charteris, I mean.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What makes you say so?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I believe you are in love with her; in fact, I know you are. And I hope
-      you will. Nothing could make me happier.&rdquo; Darley looked the satisfaction
-      he could not speak at this little speech.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I am in love with her. But I am not good enough for her,&rdquo; he said,
-      humbly. &ldquo;I have been a worthless beggar all these years&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You can prove your worth,&rdquo; said Leonard, warmly. &ldquo;And you <i>must</i>, if
-      you marry Florence Charteris. I know you are not worthless; but you must
-      let the good come to the surface.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I shall work,&rdquo; answered Darley, earnestly. &ldquo;I begin to feel now the
-      approving glow that comes to a man when he anticipates marrying a woman he
-      loves. But why should I anticipate? I have not the slightest reason to
-      believe that Miss Charteris cares a jot for me!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Is that true, Percy?&rdquo; questioned Leonard, sharply.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Darley did not know whether it was true or not. He did not like to be
-      sanguine, he said. No; he had no reason to think Miss Charteris cared
-      whether he went back to town to-morrow. Not an item of which Leonard
-      believed.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I hope earnestly you will win her,&rdquo; he said again. &ldquo;But you will have to
-      retrench. Florence Charteris is as poor as a church mouse.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I am heartily glad of it,&rdquo; said Darley, warmly. &ldquo;I shall be the man I
-      have never yet been if I win her.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Well, you will win her,&rdquo; said Leonard. &ldquo;I feel it in my bones.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      So the days went round; and each one found Darley at Miss Spooner's. Even
-      little Dutton had begun to watch with interest the outcome of this quiet
-      wooing of the little lady whom all the town loved. The evolutions of
-      acquaintance had merged rapidly into the sweeter plane of an almost
-      wordless courtship; but as yet Darley had not ventured to speak He felt
-      fearful lest his dream should be dispelled; and yet, though he was not a
-      vain man, he felt that this lovable little woman cared for him. He could
-      not go back to town and leave his love unspoken, however; because if he
-      had done so this little story would not have been written. And at length
-      came the day when he felt that his visit had been prolonged beyond the
-      limits that even close friendship allows.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I am going away to-morrow,&rdquo; he said on this eventful afternoon. It was
-      just such an afternoon as that first one which he had spent there. It was
-      growing dusk; and through the window they could see the red lights of
-      home, those terrestrial apostles of Hesperus, punctuating the white
-      landscape.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I am going away to-morrow,&rdquo; repeated Darley. Miss Charteris said nothing,
-      but gazed out of the window.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Why don't you say something?&rdquo; he burst out. &ldquo;Have you nothing to say?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What should I say? Do you want me to say good-by? Is it such a sweet
-      word, then, that you are anxious that I should say it now?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Darley knelt beside the little dusky figure in the rocker. How sweet it is
-      to have the woman you love speak to you like this, and to hear her voice
-      tremble, and to feel that she cares for you!
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;No, I don't want you to say good-by,&rdquo; he said, very gently. &ldquo;I want you
-      to tell me not to go. Can't you see that the thought of leaving you has
-      been like the thought of eternal darkness to me? I love you, and I want
-      you for my own, always, that I may never know the bitterness of good-by!&rdquo;
-       Miss Charteris turned her head, and Darley saw that the gray eyes he loved
-      so well were wet. She put out one little white hand till it rested on his.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Stay!&rdquo; she whispered.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      After a while, when the lamps&mdash;those horribly real and unromantic
-      things&mdash;were brought in, they talked of other matters. But both
-      seemed very happy, and ready to talk of anything. Even the mysterious
-      hood, which was now completed, came in for a share of attention, and the
-      inquisitive Darley learned that it was for a &ldquo;poor old soul,&rdquo; as Miss
-      Charteris expressed it, who lived in a wretched little shanty with a
-      worthless grandson, at the other end of the town. By-and-by Miss Charteris
-      said:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I have some news for you. Bella was married yesterday. Can you guess to
-      whom?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;No, I cannot,&rdquo; answered Darley, almost breathlessly. Bella was the Miss
-      Charteris of the city. He did not know whether to feel glad or
-      indifferent, but he was free of the gentlest touch of spleen. A woman will
-      be conscious of a twinge of pique when she hears that a man with whom she
-      has had some little love affair has married some one else. But Darley was
-      not conscious of any such sensation.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;It was very quiet,&rdquo; continued Miss Charteris. &ldquo;At least, I gather so from
-      the paper which tells me of it. Bella never writes me, and not even on
-      this occasion has she done so. However, she is now Mrs. Lawrence
-      Severance.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; exclaimed Darley in a superior tone, which testified that he knew
-      something about it. Then he mentioned having met Severance. He had not
-      said anything of the occurrence before, not caring for Miss Charteris of
-      the city as a subject of conversation with her sister, for reasons best
-      known to himself.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;There is quite a little story about it, you know,&rdquo; continued Miss
-      Florence. &ldquo;Lawrence, you know, and Bella have been lovers ever since they
-      were so high, and Bella was Aunt Mary Spooner's favorite. When Aunt Mary
-      died she left a great deal of money for Bella when she should come of age,
-      stipulating, however, that Bella should have only a certain allowance till
-      she was beyond a marriageable age.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;And, pray, what age is that?&rdquo; asked Darley, laughing.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I should not have cared to ask Aunt Mary that question. The reason was
-      that Lawrence was the son of an old sweetheart of Aunt Mary's, who had
-      jilted her without any mercy; and so the sins of the father were visited
-      upon the head of the son. 'Marry Lawrence, my dear,' says Aunt Mary, 'if
-      you like, but you don't have my money. Florence shall have it the day you
-      marry Lawrence Severance.'&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Darley started as if stung. &ldquo;Eh?&rdquo; he exclaimed, &ldquo;I don't understand!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Then listen. 'Oh, ho!' quoth Lawrence, when he grew up and understood the
-      story. 'So that is the way of love, is it? Well, there are more fortunes
-      than Aunt Mary's in the world.' And away went Lawrence, nothing daunted,
-      to win&mdash;what I hear he has won&mdash;double the fortune that Bella,
-      in marrying him, hands over to me.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Then you mean to say that this&mdash;money comes to you; that you are a
-      rich woman, in fact?&rdquo; Darley's tone was almost bitten.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yes!&rdquo; answered Miss Florence, gleefully, and clapping her little hands.
-      &ldquo;Aren't you glad?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Glad? I hate it!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Hate it?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yes, hate it! I was glorying in the fact that if I won you I would marry
-      a poor woman. Now&mdash;&rdquo; Darley did not finish his sentence.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You must not talk like that,&rdquo; said Miss Florence with some asperity. &ldquo;It
-      is very wrong, and it hurts me, although I know I should be pleased. But I
-      know you love me for all that. Money is a very good thing&mdash;God's gift
-      in the hands of those who use it well. There is a great deal of good that
-      we can do with Aunt Mary's money. She was very good herself to the poor,
-      despite her unnatural dislike for Lawrence Severance; and I should like
-      her to know that her mantle had fallen on worthy shoulders. You and I
-      shall use this money to a great purpose.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;But you don't know what a happy thing it has been to me, this thought of
-      winning you and proving my love by earnest work!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;And need that resolve be dissipated?&rdquo; said Miss Florence, gravely. &ldquo;You
-      shall do that. There is a great deal of work to be done.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Leonard met Darley on his return, and drew him into the light.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I have won her, Jack!&rdquo; said the younger man, grasping his friend's hand.
-      &ldquo;The sweetest and the noblest woman God ever made!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I see it in your face,&rdquo; said Leonard, huskily. Even Darley could not fail
-      to notice the change in his friend's voice. &ldquo;What is the matter, old man?&rdquo;
-       he exclaimed. &ldquo;You&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Nothing, nothing, my boy,&rdquo; Leonard answered quickly. &ldquo;But promise me one
-      thing: that you will make her a noble husband, always&mdash;always!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Then Darley understood.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Dear old Jack!&rdquo; he said tenderly. &ldquo;What a fool I have been! Can you
-      forgive me?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;There is nothing to forgive, my boy&mdash;nothing. But you must always be
-      good to her. But never get angry because another man besides yourself
-      worships your wife.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0048" id="linkimage-0048"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0265.jpg" alt="0265 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0265.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0049" id="linkimage-0049"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0266.jpg" alt="0266 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0266.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div style="height: 4em;">
-      <br /><br /><br /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h2>
-      THE BEAR 'S-HEAD BROOCH, By Ernest Ingersoll
-    </h2>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0050" id="linkimage-0050"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0267.jpg" alt="0267 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0267.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0051" id="linkimage-0051"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0268.jpg" alt="0268 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0268.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0052" id="linkimage-0052"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="figleft" style="width:20%;">
-      <img src="images/9268.jpg" alt="9268 " width="100%" /><br /><a
-      href="images/9268.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </div>
-    <p>
-      HE story I am about to narrate happened this way, Thomas Burke and I were
-      old schoolmates. But his course and mine had been widely divergent for a
-      score of years, so that by the time he had brought his family back to New
-      York, and our acquaintance could be renewed, many untold things had
-      happened to each.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I knew Tom had won his fortune by mining in the Rocky Mountains. It was
-      rumored that his accomplished wife also had wealth in her own right, but
-      Tom never had much to say in regard to his financial matters, and I did
-      not like to question him notwithstanding our intimacy. I had dined with
-      him two Christmases in succession, and now for the third time had eaten my
-      Christmas dinner at his table.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      On each of these occasions Mrs. Burke had worn at her throat a magificient
-      brooch which I had never seen at any other time, though I had met her
-      often when such an ornament would have been suitable enough. This brooch
-      was a bear's face, holding in its teeth a tiny steel key. It was a marvel
-      of delicacy in the goldsmith's art, and evidently very costly; for the
-      eyes were each a ruby, and the head was encircled with large diamonds,
-      half hidden by hairs of gold, as though they represented a collar round
-      bruin's hirsute neck.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Tom,&rdquo; I said, when Mrs. Burke had left us to ourselves after dinner, &ldquo;I
-      am very curious about that bear's head brooch your wife wears. Why do I
-      never see it except at Christmas? I am sure it has a history, and if there
-      is no secret about it I wish you would enlighten me.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said my old friend, &ldquo;that is rather a lengthy story. There is no
-      secret about it&mdash;at least none to keep from an old chum like you. As
-      for the brooch, that's only an ornament I had made some years ago; but the
-      design and the little key&mdash;which is a real key&mdash;remind Marion
-      and myself of what we call our Christmas story, because it culminated on
-      that day.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;When you and I left the old university in 1870, and you came here, and I
-      went West&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      But if I were to tell the story as he did, it would hardly be as plain to
-      you as it was to me. I must write it out.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      When Tom Burke left the university after his graduation he took the few
-      hundred dollars which were the measure of his capital and went to the
-      Rocky Mountains to seek his fortune. In the autumn of 1871 he became the
-      superintendent of the Crimson Canyon Mining Company in Southern Colorado,
-      where he found as assayer, and scientific assistant generally, a queer,
-      learned and proud old Scotchman named Corbitt. This man had been one of
-      the &ldquo;Forty-niners&rdquo; and had made a fortune which he had greatly enjoyed
-      while it lasted, and the loss of which, in some wrong-headed speculation,
-      he never ceased to deplore.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Now, a few weeks before Tom's arrival at the camp, Corbitt's home had been
-      brightened by the coming of his daughter Marion, on what he told his
-      envious acquaintances was a &ldquo;veesit,&rdquo; implying that she could not be
-      expected to make her home there.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      And truly this remote mountain settlement, inclement in climate, uncouth,
-      dusty, filled with rough men, and bountiful only in pure air and divine
-      pictures of crag and glen, icy-blue peaks and chromatic patches of stained
-      cliff above or flower meadow below&mdash;all this was anything but the
-      sort of place for a girl like her to spend her maiden days in.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Perhaps it was not quite a case of love at first sight between her and
-      Tom, but certainly the winter had not passed before each had confessed
-      that there was no one else in the world beside the other whose presence
-      much mattered in the way of happiness.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      But that seemed to be the end of it, for Corbitt gave young Burke to
-      understand most decisively that he could hope for nothing more&mdash;an
-      engagement to marry was out of the question.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Love, let us wait,&rdquo; was Marion's last word, when, on her first and last
-      tryst, she had stolen away to meet him, and he counted her kisses as a
-      miser counts his gold.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Let us wait. I care for nobody else, and nobody can marry me against my
-      will. We are young yet. Who knows what may happen? You may get money
-      enough to satisfy papa&mdash;I don't suppose he holds me at a very, very
-      high price, do you? Or I may be freer after a while to do as I wish.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      This was commonplace advice enough, but Tom saw both the good sense and
-      the pure love in it, and accepted the decree, steeling his heart against
-      the impulses of rage and revolt.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      And then, quite unexpectedly, Mr. Corbitt resigned his place and went to
-      Denver, taking his family with him. The same week the mine changed owners,
-      and Burke was superseded by a new superintendent; and so, almost at a
-      stroke, the lad lost both his sweetheart and the weapon by which he was to
-      fight for her in the business tournament of the world. However, the latter
-      evil was presently remedied, and he worked on, saving his money and
-      teasing his brain for suggestions how to make it increase faster.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      At that time the mighty range had never been very carefully prospected.
-      Men had, indeed, ascended Crimson Creek to its sources in search of the
-      deposits of quartz whence the auriferous gravels below had been enriched,
-      but they had brought back a discouraging report. Tom was not satisfied to
-      accept their conclusions. He was confident, from the geological and other
-      indications, that treasures of ore lay undiscovered among those azure
-      heights. At last, resolved to see for himself, he enlisted the help of a
-      young miner and mountaineer named Cooper, and one day late in August they
-      started.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      After passing the pillared gateways of the Canyon, and ascending for a few
-      miles the great gorge down which the creek cascaded over boulders and
-      ledges of granite and rounded fragments of trachyte and quartz, you come
-      to a noble cataract leaping into the Canyon from the left through a narrow
-      gash or depression in the wall. By climbing up the opposite slope a little
-      way, you see that this stream comes tumbling white and furious down a long
-      rugged stairway of rocky fragments before it reaches the brink, whence it
-      shoots out in the air and then falls in a thousand wreaths of dangling
-      vapor.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Cooper,&rdquo; Tom called out to his companion, who was more comrade than
-      servant, &ldquo;I guess we'll camp here. I want to examine this side gorge a
-      bit.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;It looks to me,&rdquo; remarked Tom, &ldquo;as if this had formerly been the main
-      stream, and had carried pretty much all the drainage of the valley until a
-      big landslide&mdash;and it didn't happen so very long ago either&mdash;dammed
-      the exit of the valley and changed the shape of things generally, eh?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;That's about the size of it, I guess. But, I say, ain't that smoke down
-      there by the lake?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0053" id="linkimage-0053"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0276.jpg" alt="0276 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0276.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I reckon we've got time enough to go and see. It ain't far down there,
-      and the moon'll show us the way back if we get late.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Noting their bearings, they began the descent toward the lake and
-      presently came out upon its border, where the walking was easier.
-      Advancing cautiously half a mile or thereabout, they again caught sight of
-      the smoke through the bushes&mdash;a feeble column rising from some embers
-      before a small shelter of boughs and bark that hardly deserved the name of
-      hut. A skillet, a light pick and shovel, and one or two other household
-      articles lay near by, but nothing alive appeared.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;No Injun 'bout that,&rdquo; said Cooper.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;No, Cooper; more likely a prospector.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Hallooing as they neared the hut, a lean and miserable dog rushed out and
-      greeted them with ferocious growls, whereupon they heard a weak voice
-      speaking to him, and saw a frowsy gray head and a bony hand, clutching a
-      revolver, stretched out of the opening that answered for a door.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0054" id="linkimage-0054"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0284.jpg" alt="0284 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0284.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Hello!&rdquo; Tom cried. &ldquo;Call off your dog; we're friends.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Then a tousled, ragged, gaunt-limbed figure, emaciated with hunger, wild
-      eyed with fever, dragged itself from the sheltering brush, gave one long
-      look at the stalwart strangers, and fell back on the stony ground in a
-      dead faint, while the dog, rushing forward with the courage of a starved
-      wolf, planted himself before the corpse-like form and defied them to touch
-      it.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      They fought off the animal, brought water from the lake and revived the
-      man. A dram from Tom's flask stimulated him, whereupon he sat up and began
-      to chatter incoherently, thanks to God and wild exclamations about some
-      hidden treasure mingling with such plaintive cries as &ldquo;She'll be all right
-      now!&rdquo; and &ldquo;Mebbe she'll forgive her old dad!&rdquo; making up the whole of his
-      ceaseless talk.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;He's clean crazy!&rdquo; was Cooper's opinion.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; Tom assented, &ldquo;but it is fever and famine. Couldn't you shoot a
-      rabbit or something? Then I could make him a stew. Try it.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      But all that Cooper could quickly find to kill were three mountain jays,
-      which were converted into a broth, thickened with the dust of flour that
-      remained. A little tea was also found in the sick man's pack, and this was
-      brewed for him. Then Cooper volunteered to go back to their own camp and
-      bring over more food and Tom's little medicine case.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The next day he fetched the rest of their luggage, and in the afternoon
-      shot a deer. So they encamped here beside the lake and nursed the old
-      fellow until his fever subsided and the delirium had ceased to a great
-      extent. Then by easy stages, partly carrying him on a stretcher, partly
-      assisting him to walk, they managed to take him back to Crimson Camp and
-      gave him a bed in Tom's cabin.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      But the strain of this effort had been too much for the aged and feeble
-      frame. No sooner was the excitement of the march at an end than a relapse
-      occurred, and for a fortnight the old man hovered on the edge of death;
-      skill and care seemed to conquer, however, and one morning peace came to
-      the tortured brain and the old prospector began to get better.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Now at last he was awake, with seeming intelligence in his eyes, asking
-      where he was and who were the people around him. Tom explained and then
-      questioned him in return.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      But the mystery was not to be so easily solved. The invalid could not tell
-      his name, nor where he had come from. He said he had been prospecting all
-      his life&mdash;where&mdash;how long&mdash;all particulars were a blank.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I can't remember anything but the cache&mdash;nothing else at all,&rdquo; he
-      declared, gazing piteously into one face after another.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Tell us about that, then.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      He felt in his bosom and drew out the little pouch. It was opened for him
-      and its contents&mdash;a fragment of quartz heavy with gold and a tiny
-      steel key&mdash;taken out.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Ah! What do you call that?&rdquo; he inquired eagerly, pointing to the yellow
-      metal.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Gold.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yes? Well, there is lots of that in my cache.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Where is your cache?&rdquo; inquired Tom.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The old fellow dropped his head and tried to think, but couldn't clutch
-      any of the motes of memory dodging like phantasmagoria before his eyes.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I can't tell,&rdquo; he confessed, with infinite sadness. &ldquo;I reckon I'd know
-      the place if I saw it. And I've forgotten everything before that, but it
-      seems to me that I fell a great ways, and lay for years and years with an
-      awful pain in my head. Then all at once my head got better and I opened my
-      eyes&mdash;mebbe it was a dream&mdash;and there I and the dog were in a
-      little camp 'way up a big gulch. I knew the place, but I felt kind o' weak
-      and dizzy-like and 'lowed I'd make a cache o' all my stuff, and go down to
-      Del Nort' and see a doctor. So I dug a hole beside a big rock that had a
-      peculiar mark on it, and put into it most o' my grub and some papers, and
-      a lot o' that yellow stuff&mdash;what d'ye call it?&mdash;and reckoned
-      they'd be safe till I come back in three or four weeks. I can remember all
-      about the cache and my camp there, and my leavin' it and climbin' down a
-      devilish steep place, and there I stop and can't remember nothin' since.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      This was absolutely all that was left of the man's memory, and, though he
-      was now quite sane, he had to be taught the names and uses of many of the
-      commonest objects. Moreover, he seemed to grow weaker instead of stronger,
-      and after a few days the physician announced that his patient's end was
-      near. When the old fellow was told this he called Tom to his bedside, and
-      said to him:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Pardner, you've done the square thing by me, and I want you to have half
-      the traps in that cache after I've passed in my checks, and give the other
-      half to&mdash;to&mdash;oh, God! Now I can't remember!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Then his face brightened again.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh, the letters'll tell! Read the letters and give her half of it. I'll
-      sign a paper if you'll write it.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      So a will was made, and the dying man made a mark before witness, in lieu
-      of the signature he had lost the power to make, and the next day he died.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The miners generally believed the stranger's story of this cache to be a
-      figment of his disordered imagination, and Tom himself might have yielded
-      to this theory had not the physician assured him that there was a fair
-      chance of its truth.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      So Tom preserved the will, the quartz and the key, hoping that chance
-      might sometime disclose the treasure trove if there were any; and a few
-      days later he and young Cooper started a second time on their prospecting
-      tour. This time they took a burro with them, and so were able to carry a
-      small tent and outfit for a fortnight's trip.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      By active marching they reached the lake that night, finding it slow work
-      to get their unwilling donkey up the steep rocks at the fall, by a
-      circuitous trail and aided by some actual lifting of the little beast.
-      They researched the hut, but found nothing new. The dog, now fat and
-      strong, and a devoted friend, accompanied them and betrayed most excitedly
-      his recognition of the bivouac. Next morning they made their way up to the
-      head of the lake, where the breadth of the gulch and the appearance of
-      things confirmed Tom's previous surmise that this was originally the main
-      channel of drainage.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      If this were true they ought to get evidence of drift gold; and several
-      days were spent in panning the gravels (nowhere, however, of great
-      extent), with most encouraging results. A few miles above the lake they
-      found the gulch forked into two ravines divided by a rocky spur. They
-      chose the right-hand one and lost three days in fruitless exploration of
-      its bed and walls. Shep (the dog was a collie and they had rechristened
-      him) did not display anything like the joy he had shown in the advance up
-      the main stream, and when they finally returned to the forks they could
-      not but notice his renewed spirits. The dog was again all eagerness, and
-      intensely delighted when on the following morning they started up the
-      left-hand gulch.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;It looks as though his master had come down that way, doesn't it?&rdquo; said
-      Tom. &ldquo;Maybe he could guide us right back to where he came from; but he'll
-      have to wait a while, for I like the look of that crag up there,&rdquo;
-       directing his companion's attention to the crest of the wall on the left,
-      &ldquo;and I want to examine it. You'd better stay here and try to get a
-      blacktail. Bacon three times a day is getting monotonous.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Don't you think you'd better take the Winchester?&rdquo; said Cooper. (They had
-      brought but one rifle.) &ldquo;You might hit up against a grizzly or a mountain
-      lion. I heard one of 'em screeching last night.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;No; I can't lug a gun. I've got my six shooter, and I'll risk it. Come
-      on, Shep! It's noon now, and we won't get back to supper if we don't
-      hurry.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The dog raced gleefully ahead as the young man strode up the gulch,
-      scanning its rugged slope in search of a convenient place to begin the
-      ascent, and presently, as though cognizant of the plan, the dog turned
-      aside and with loud barking and much tail wagging invited attention to a
-      dry watercourse that offered a sort of path.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I guess you're right, Shep,&rdquo; Tom assented, and set his face to the sturdy
-      climb.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Half way up a ledge, covered with cedars and Spanish bayonet, made the
-      ascent really arduous for a little way, and here the dog, which as usual
-      was some rods in advance, suddenly began barking furiously, and capering
-      around a small object.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Chipmunk, I reckon,&rdquo; said Tom to himself, as he scrambled on, short of
-      breath; but when Shep came sliding down, holding in his mouth a battered
-      old felt hat, curiosity changed to amazement. The dog growled at first,
-      and refused to give up his prize, but after a little coaxing yielded it
-      into Tom's hands.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The old prospector had had no hat when found. Could this be it? It did not
-      seem to have lain out of doors long, and the dog would hardly show so much
-      interest unless his sharp nose had recognized it as something belonging to
-      his former inaster. Closely scrutinizing, Tom found tucked into the lining
-      a slip of sweat-stained paper with a name upon it&mdash;
-    </p>
-    <h3>
-      ARTHUR F. PIERSON,
-    </h3>
-    <p>
-      Tucsony Arizona.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Stuffing the hat into his pocket Tom scrambled on, thinking out the
-      meaning of the incident; and now he began to notice in this steeper place
-      that some of the boulders had been misplaced, and here and there was a
-      broken branch, as, if someone had descended very hastily or clumsily.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;If that crazy old man came down here, and perhaps caught a second bad
-      fall, I don't wonder he was used up by the time he reached the lake&rdquo; was
-      Tom's mental ejaculation, as he toiled up the acclivity and at last,
-      panting and leg weary, gained a narrow grassy level at the foot of a crag
-      &ldquo;spiked with firs,&rdquo; which had been conspicuous from the valley not only by
-      its height and castellated battlements, but because a colossal X was
-      formed on its face by two broad veins of quartz crossing each other.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      With his eyes fixed upon the rocky wall he walked along in the face of a
-      stiff breeze, until he noticed a pinkish streak upon the dark cliff,
-      betokening the outcrop of another vein, and turned aside to climb a pile
-      of fallen fragments at the foot of the crag to reach it. These fragments
-      were overgrown with low, dense shrubbery. He ducked his head and was
-      pushing into them, when suddenly he saw a huge brown body rise almost into
-      his face, heard the tremendous growl of a grizzly, and amid a crash of
-      bushes and dislodged stones felt himself hurled backward.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Clutching instinctively at one of the shrubs as he fell, he whirled under
-      its hiding foliage, and the vicious stroke of the bear's paw came down
-      upon his leg instead of his head, while the released branches snapped
-      upward into the face of the brute, which, as much surprised as its victim,
-      paused in its onslaught to collect its wits. An instant later Shep dashed
-      up, and at the bear's hindquarters. Bruin spasmodically sank his claws
-      deeper into Tom's thigh, but turned his head and shoulders with a terrific
-      ursine oath at this new and most palpable enemy; and ten seconds afterward
-      Tom's revolver, its muzzle pressed close underneath the bear's ear, had
-      emptied half an ounce of lead into its brain. A blood-freezing death
-      squeal tore the air, and the ponderous carcass sank down, stone dead, upon
-      Tom's body and upon the dwarfed spruce which covered it. It pinned him to
-      the ground with an almost insupportable weight. Perhaps if the animal
-      alone had lain upon him he might have wriggled out; but the brute's
-      carcass also held down the tough and firmly-rooted tree, and the rocks on
-      each side formed a sort of trough. Turn and strain as he would Tom could
-      not free himself from the burden which threatened to smother him.
-      Moreover, the convulsive death throe had forcibly tightened the grip of
-      the claws in the side of his knee, which felt as if in some horrible
-      torturing machine of the Inquisition; and had he not been able at last to
-      reach that paw with his left hand and pull it away from the wound he would
-      have died under the agony.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Then, as he felt the blood running hot and copious down his leg, a new
-      fear chilled his heart. Might he not bleed to death? There seemed no end
-      to the hemorrhage, and what hope had he of succor? He thought of firing
-      signals of distress, but could not reach the pistol, which had been
-      knocked out of his hand. He spoke to the dog, which was barking and
-      worrying at the bear's hind leg, and Shep came and licked his face and
-      sniffed at his blood-soaked trousers. Then, as if even he realized how
-      hopeless was the situation, he sat on his haunches and howled until Tom,
-      hearing him less and less distinctly, imagined himself a boulder slowly
-      but musically crunching to powder under the resistless advance of a
-      glacier, and lost consciousness as the cold-blue dream-ice closed over his
-      dust.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      By and by he awoke. It was dark, and something cold and soft was blowing
-      against his face. He moved and felt the shaggy fur and the horrible pain
-      in his leg and in his right arm, which was confined in a twisted position.
-      Then he remembered, but forgot again.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      A second time he awoke. It was still dark, but a strange pallor permeated
-      the air, and all around him was a mist of white.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      It was snowing fast. He closed his left hand and grasped a whole fistful
-      of flakes. The body of the bear was a mound of white&mdash;like a new-made
-      grave over him, he dismally thought. The snow had drifted under and about
-      his shoulders. Its chill struck the wound in his thigh, which throbbed as
-      though hit with pointed hammers, keeping time to the pulsations of his
-      heart; but, thank God! he no longer felt that horrible warm trickling down
-      his leg. He had been preserved from bleeding to freeze to death. How long
-      before that would happen; or, if it were not cold enough for that, how
-      long before the snow would drift clear over him and cut off the little
-      breath which that ponderous, inert, dead-cold beast on his chest prevented
-      from entering his lungs? Where was the dog? He called feebly: &ldquo;Shep! Shep!
-      Hi-i-i, Sh-e-p!&rdquo; But no moist nose or rough tongue responded. He tried to
-      whistle, but his parched mouth refused. Heavens, how thirsty! He stretched
-      out his hand and gathered the snow within his reach. Then he closed his
-      eyes and dreamed that two giants were pulling him asunder, and that a
-      third was pouring molten lead down his throat.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      But it was only Bill Cooper trying to make him drink whiskey.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      He understood it after a little and realized that he ought to swallow.
-      Then life came back, and with the knowledge that he was no longer alone on
-      the cold, remote, relentless mountain top, but that Cooper was lifting
-      away the bear, and that Shep was wild with sympathy and gladness because
-      he had been able to bring help, came courage and forbearance of his
-      suffering. In the morning new strength came with the sunshine. The snow
-      rapidly melted. Cooper got breakfast and Tom rebandaged his knee.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;These gashes won't amount to much, unless the claws were poisoned. You'll
-      have to make me a crutch, and give me a couple of days to get rid of the
-      stiffness, but then I'll be all right.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;How did you and the bear get into this scrimmage, anyhow? You surely
-      didn't go hunting him with that there six shooter?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Not I. The wind was blowing hard toward me, so he didn't smell nor hear
-      me, and I ran right on to him. Shep was not there to warn me, but if he
-      hadn't come back just as he did, or if I hadn't been able to get at my
-      revolver, Old Ephraim would ha' used me up in about a minute.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I ain't a betting on one pistol shot against a grizzly, anyhow.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Of course, the chances were about one in a thousand, but I wasn't going
-      to die without a shot. I suppose the bullet struck the lower part of the
-      brain.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Bill, who had been probing its track. &ldquo;Tore it all to pieces.
-      But what was the bear after in that brush?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Give it up&mdash;ants, likely. You know&mdash;Great Scott! What's that
-      dog got now?&rdquo; Shep was coming out of the bushes, dragging a package
-      wrapped in buckskin which was almost too heavy for him to handle. Cooper
-      went and took it from him and brought it to the fire. It was a sort of
-      pouch firmly tied with a thong. Running a knife under this the bundle fell
-      apart, and a double handful of flakes and nuggets of gold and quartz
-      rolled out.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;The cache!&rdquo; Tom shouted, comprehending instantly the meaning of this.
-      &ldquo;The bear was tearing it to pieces!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      It was true. His strong feet had displaced the loosely-heaped stones, and
-      a half-devoured side of bacon lay close by where the animal had been
-      disturbed.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Evidently the marauder had just begun his work. There remained in the
-      cache two more pouches of gold&mdash;perhaps a quart of the metal pieces
-      in all, more or less pure, for all of it had been dug out of a vein with
-      hammer and knife point, none of the fragments showing the water-worn
-      roundness characteristic of placer gold. Then there were a small quantity
-      of provisions, some ammunition and a small rosewood box with an ornamental
-      brass lock having a remarkably small and irregular keyhole.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      From an inner pocket of his purse Tom drew the odd little key the dead
-      prospector had given him. It fitted into the hole and easily turned the
-      lock. The cover sprang open, revealing a package of letters. He lifted
-      them out, but did not pause to read them.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Then came an envelope containing a patent to ranch lands in Arizona,
-      certificates of stock in Mexican and other mines that Burke had never
-      heard of, and a commission as lieutenant of artillery in the Confederate
-      army. All these documents were made out to &ldquo;Arthur F. Pierson,&rdquo;
-       establishing the fact that the lost hat was really that worn by the old
-      man, as his dog had recognized.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      At the bottom of the box, however, Tom found what interested him most&mdash;a
-      formal &ldquo;claim&rdquo; and description of the lode whence the gold had been taken,
-      and how to reach it from this cache. It was written in pencil, in a very
-      shaky hand, on two or three soiled leaves torn from a memorandum book and
-      eked out with one of the covers.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Then Tom took up the letters. Most of them were recent and of business
-      importance, but several were old and worn with much handling. One of these
-      latter was from a lawyer in San Francisco, acknowledging funds &ldquo;sent for
-      the support of your infant daughter,&rdquo; describing her health and growth,
-      and the care taken of her &ldquo;at the convent&rdquo;&mdash;all in curt business
-      phrase, but precious to the father's heart. Then there were two or three
-      small letters, printed and scratched in a childish hand, to &ldquo;dear, dear
-      papa,&rdquo; and signed &ldquo;Your little Polly.&rdquo; One of these spoke of Sister Agatha
-      and Sister Theresa, showing that it was written while the child was still
-      in the convent; but the others, a little later, prattled about a new home
-      with &ldquo;my new papa and mamma,&rdquo; but gave no clew to name or place.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;This baby girl&mdash;she must be a young woman now, if she lives,&rdquo; Tom
-      mused&mdash;&ldquo;is evidently the person the poor old chap wanted me to divide
-      with. It ought not to be difficult to trace her from San Francisco, I
-      suppose the convent Sisters knew where she went to when they gave her up.
-      But, hello! here's a picture.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      It was an old-fashioned daguerrotype of a handsome woman of perhaps
-      four-and-twenty, in bridal finery, whose face seemed to him to have
-      something familiar in its expression. But no name or date was to be found,
-      and with the natural conclusion that this was probably Pierson's wife he
-      puzzled a moment more over the pretty face, and then put it away.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      After a few days, when Burke was able to travel, the prospector's
-      memorandum and their mountain craft together led them almost directly to
-      the coveted gold vein, which ran across a shoulder of the mountain at the
-      head of the gulch, like an obscure trail, finally disappearing under a
-      great talus at the foot of a line of snowcapped crags.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Tracing it along, they presently came upon the old man's claim marks. The
-      stakes were lettered pathetically with the name of the old man's choosing&mdash;&ldquo;Polly's
-      Hope.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Adjoining the &ldquo;Hope&rdquo; Tom staked out one claim for himself and another for
-      his sweetheart, intending to do the proper assessment work on it himself
-      if Corbitt couldn't or wouldn't; and Cooper used up most of what remained
-      of the visible outcrop in a claim for himself.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Returning to town their claims were registered in the Crimson Mineral
-      District, and their report sent a flight of gold hunters in hot haste to
-      the scene.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Tom Burke, after selling everything he could send to market to turn into
-      ready money, departed to Denver, carrying with him documents and specimens
-      of the gold quartz to support his assertions.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Keen men fêted and flattered him, buttonholing him at every corner with
-      whispered advice, and many proffered schemes. But he was indifferent to it
-      all, and anxious as yet only to hear what Marion should say.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Not a word had he heard from her directly during all the weeks of her
-      absence, but indirectly he knew she had been a star in the local society.
-      He had even to hunt out where she lived, finding it in a cottage near
-      where the stately court house now stands.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      He went there, after tea, with a fastbeating heart. Had she forgotten, or
-      withdrawn or been turned away by hardhearted parents and friends? He
-      suspected everything and everybody, yet could give no reasons. And how
-      absurd these fears looked to him&mdash;how <i>foolish!</i>&mdash;when,
-      sitting in the little parlor, hand in hand, they talked over the past, and
-      she confided that the same doubts had worried her now and then&mdash;&ldquo;most
-      of all, Tom, dear, when I hear of this wonderful success of yours.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Bless me! I had forgotten it. By your side all else&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Here the door opened&mdash;not too abruptly&mdash;and Mr. Corbitt came in,
-      grimly hospitable and glad, no doubt for his own sake, to see this young
-      fellow who was still true to his daughter; while Mrs. Corbitt was more
-      openly cordial, as became her.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;An' what's this we're hearin' aboot your new mines? They're sayin' down
-      town that you've struck a regular bonanza, an'll soon be worth your
-      meellions. But I told 'em 'Hoot! I'd heard the like o' that before!'&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      So Tom recounted briefly the story of the prospector's death and his will;
-      still more briefly his adventure with the grizzly, and how it led to the
-      curious disclosure of the cache. Then, with no little dramatic force,
-      seeing how interested was his audience, he described the hunt for the vein
-      and the finding it, produced his specimens and handed to Miss Marion a
-      mass of almost solid gold embedded in its matrix.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I can't promise you,&rdquo; he said, as she tried to thank him with her eyes
-      and a timid touch of her fingers, &ldquo;that the whole ledge will equal that,
-      but it is a genuine sample from near the surface.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Wonderful! Wonderful!&rdquo; the old Scotchman ejaculated, with gleaming eyes,
-      as Tom went on to show how regular and secure was the title to this
-      possession. &ldquo;But did ye no find out the name of the poor vagabone?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh, yes. Didn't I mention it? His name was Arthur Pierson.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Corbitt and his wife both started from their seats.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Man, did I hear ye aright?&mdash;<i>Arthur F. Pierson?</i>&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;That was the name exactly. I can show it to you on the letters.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;An' he charged ye to give the half of all ye found to his daughter
-      Polly?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yes, and I mean to try to find her.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;<i>There she sits!</i>&rdquo; cried Mother Corbitt excitedly, before her
-      cautious husband, could say &ldquo;Hush!&rdquo;&mdash;pointing at Marion, who gazed
-      from one to the other, too much amazed to feel grieved yet at this
-      stunning announcement. &ldquo;We took the lassie when she was a wee bairn, and
-      she would never ha' known she wasn't ours really till maybe we were dead
-      and gone. Her feyther was a cankert, fashious body, but her mother was
-      guid and bonnie (I knew her well in the auld country) and she died when
-      Mary&mdash;that's you, my dearie&mdash;was born.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Is this her picture?&rdquo; Tom asked, showing the daguerrotype.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Aye, that it is. Puir Jennie!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The rest is soon told. A company of capitalists was formed to work the
-      four consolidated claims on the new vein, under the name of the Hope
-      Mining Company.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0055" id="linkimage-0055"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0293.jpg" alt="0293 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0293.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      All the next season was spent by Tom Burke in developing the property and
-      erecting machinery. Corbitt was there too, much thawed by the sun of
-      prosperity, but his wife and daughter remained in Denver. In the autumn,
-      however, the ladies went East, and as the holidays approached Tom and
-      Corbitt followed them to New York, where, on Christmas eve, my hero and
-      heroine were married quietly in a little church up town; and his gift to
-      her was the brooch which had attracted my attention and whose significance
-      was now plain.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0056" id="linkimage-0056"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0293.jpg" alt="0293 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0293.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0057" id="linkimage-0057"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0294.jpg" alt="0294 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0294.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div style="height: 4em;">
-      <br /><br /><br /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h2>
-      MISS GWYNNE'S BURGLAR, By Violet Etynge Mitchell
-    </h2>
-    <p class="pfirst">
-      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>N the heart of
-      Wales, nestling between two dark frowning mountains, and lulled to drowsy
-      indifference of the big outside world by the murmurs of the not far
-      distant sea, stands the little village of Cod-y-glyn.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Just outside the village, on the main road stands&mdash;or did stand ten
-      years ago&mdash;an old stone house, in the middle of a large garden, which
-      was surrounded on all sides by a high wall, also of stone. It was the
-      pride of the owner, Miss Gwynne.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      One night, in the early spring of the year, there was to be a wedding at
-      Cod-y-Glyn&mdash;a wedding in humble life, but anticipated with great glee
-      by the invited guests, among whom were Miss Gwynne's servants, the
-      coachman and his wife (who was also cook) and Ylva, their daughter,
-      employed as a maid-of-all-work.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Knowing the disappointment it would be to them if they were denied the
-      pleasure of attending the wedding, she had declined the coachman's offer
-      to remain with her, allowing his wife and daughter to go, and laughingly
-      assured him that with her father's gun for company she feared nothing.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Miss Gwynne retired at an early hour, having locked up the house.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      She lay for some time gazing through the window at the twinkling stars,
-      lost in quiet retrospection.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I will let Miss Gwynne tell the rest of the story in her own way,
-      repeating as well as I can from memory the words as I heard them from her
-      lips ten years ago.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I cannot tell if I dozed or not, but I was conscious of the moon shining
-      dimly through the clouds, and I wondered how long I had lain there.
-      Reaching out for my watch, which lay on the table, I was horrified to feel
-      my wrist grasped and held by a firm hand.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      To say I was frightened would be less correct than to say I was astounded,
-      for I have always been a woman of steady nerve, and the present occasion
-      called for its use.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The moon had retired behind a heavy curtain of clouds, and the room was in
-      complete darkness, but from the drapery at my bedside issued a voice, and
-      at the same time the python-like grasp on my wrist relaxed.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I beg to apologize, madam,&rdquo; said this voice; &ldquo;I have chosen a bungling
-      manner of awakening you&mdash;foreign to my custom. Pardon me, and do not
-      be alarmed. I merely wish to relieve you of any superfluous silver,
-      jewelry or bank notes you do not absolutely need. But as the vandalism of
-      breaking locks is out of my line, I will request you to arise and show me
-      where such things are kept.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      By the time he had finished this speech I was myself again.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;I'll get up and show you; but, as it is embarrassing
-      to dress in your presence, will you step out into the hall and close the
-      door while I put on my clothing?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      There was a soft rustling of the curtains at the bedside, and the sound of
-      footsteps on the carpet, and immediately afterward the door closed.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Five minutes, madam, is all I can give you,&rdquo; remarked the burglar, as he
-      disappeared.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      It took me (after lighting the candle) two minutes to slip on a warm
-      skirt, and a blue flannel wrapper over it; then, sticking my feet into a
-      pair of down slippers, I had still time to snatch a roll of bills
-      amounting to one hundred pounds, and pin them deftly to the lining of the
-      canopy above my four-post bed.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Then throwing open the door I stood on the sill facing my visitor, and
-      threw the glare of the lighted candle full upon him, as he lolled in a
-      careless, easy attitude against the bannisters.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I had been prepared for a burglar&mdash;but I had looked for one attired
-      according to the traditions of my ancestors. But here was a gentlemanly,
-      mild-featured individual, such as I should have expected to find filling
-      the position of a professor of Latin&mdash;perhaps of theology&mdash;in
-      Oxford University.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      There was no appearance of a jimmy, or tools of any kind. Evidently here
-      was a type of criminal with which history was unacquainted.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Madam!&rdquo; he exclaimed, bowing with the grace of a French courtier, &ldquo;you
-      are punctuality itself. And how charming!&mdash;no hysterics&mdash;no
-      distressing scenes. Allow me.&rdquo; He took the candle from my hand, and
-      holding it aloft preceded me down the great oaken stairs, talking fluently
-      all the while, but pausing at every other step to glance over his shoulder
-      at me with coquettish politeness.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I wish to assure you,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;that I am no ordinary house-breaker.
-      Burglary is with me a <i>profession</i>, though not the one (I confess)
-      chosen for me by my parents. I saw, at an early age, that I must either
-      descend to the level of the burglar, or raise him to the level of an
-      artist. Behold, my dear lady, the result.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      He stood at the foot of the stairs and looked up at me.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Shall we proceed to the diningroom?&rdquo; he asked airily; &ldquo;and, as I wish to
-      give you no unnecessary trouble, let me say that I do not dabble in <i>plated</i>
-      spoons; nothing but solid silver.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      I opened the old mahogany sideboard, in which Griffiths had, for years,
-      placed the family heirlooms at night, and beheld my gentlemanly burglar
-      stow them, one after another, in a capacious felt sack, which he carried
-      in his hand.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Charming!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;I am a connoisseur, I assure you, and I know silver
-      from plate. These articles are really worth the risk of the enterprise.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      You ask me if I was not alarmed. No, I was <i>not</i>. Personal violence
-      was not in his professional line, unless opposed. I summoned all my
-      energies to outwit him. I thought much and said little, for I had no
-      intention of allowing him to carry off my mother's silver.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      After having rifled all the rooms of the most valuable articles, he
-      returned to the dining-room.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      On the table the remains of supper still stood, consisting of a fowl,
-      hardly touched, some delicately cut bread and butter, cake, and a glass
-      jar containing some fancy crackers.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I will make myself entirely at home,&rdquo; he remarked, sitting down to the
-      table, and helping himself to a wing of the chicken.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Really,&rdquo; he proceeded, &ldquo;I have thoroughly enjoyed this evening. Not only
-      have I met a most charming lady, but I have been able to prove to her that
-      the terms gentleman and burglar may be synonomous.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      He now began on the cake. I pushed the cracker jar toward him. &ldquo;Try them,&rdquo;
-       I observed.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Still smiling indulgently, and talking, he took out one of the crackers
-      and began to nibble on it. It was <i>very dry</i>.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I rose, and in an absent-minded manner placed on the table the remains of
-      a bottle of rare old Burgundy, which had been opened the day before.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Now, really,&rdquo; he prattled, &ldquo;I'm a very harmless man five months out of
-      six&mdash;I never steal unless other means fail, or a tailor's bill comes
-      due. I'm a respectable citizen and&mdash;a church member in good standing
-      when I'm not on one of my professional tours. I took up burglary more as a
-      resource than from necessity. Candidly speaking, now, <i>am</i> I a
-      ruffian?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0058" id="linkimage-0058"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0302.jpg" alt="0302 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0302.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;No!&rdquo; I replied, looking directly at him. &ldquo;On the contrary, you are a very
-      fine-looking man.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      A glow of vanity spread over his face. I poured out a glass of the
-      Burgundy and pushed it toward him.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;England to Wales!&rdquo; he cried with gallantry. &ldquo;I don't generally drink,&rdquo; he
-      added, &ldquo;but these crackers make me thirsty.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;If I could only find a wife suited to my tastes,&rdquo; he mused, &ldquo;such a woman
-      as <i>you</i> are, by George! I'd give up aesthetic burglary and settle
-      down to quiet domestic bliss.&rdquo; He looked questioningly at me. &ldquo;If&rdquo;&mdash;he
-      hesitated&mdash;&ldquo;you could be sure I would abandon my profession&mdash;would
-      you&mdash;do you think you could&mdash;condone my past and&mdash;marry
-      me?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;That is a matter for consideration,&rdquo; I replied.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      He helped himself to another cracker.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Your proposal is so startlingly unique,&rdquo; I continued, &ldquo;to marry one's
-      burglar! Really it is quite a joke.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Isn't it?&rdquo; he chuckled, evidently enjoying the idea of the oddity. &ldquo;We
-      are kindred spirits!&rdquo; he exclaimed, convivially, but was interrupted by a
-      violent fit of coughing.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Seizing the bottle of Burgundy, he drained the only drop or two left.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I think, maybe, there's another bottle down in the cellar,&rdquo; I cried,
-      artlessly. &ldquo;I'll go down and see&mdash;I feel thirsty myself.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;We will descend together,&rdquo; exclaimed my burglar, gallantly taking the
-      candle from my hand and following me to the door leading to the cellar
-      steps.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      We descended the steps chatting pleasantly&mdash;he discoursing on
-      matrimony, I answering rather vaguely, but measuring the distance to the
-      wine bins by my eye. They were at the far end of the cellar, and were five
-      in number, each large enough to hold a quarter of a ton of coal. Before
-      the furthest one I paused.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0059" id="linkimage-0059"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0300.jpg" alt="0300 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0300.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Here,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;is the brand we are looking for.&rdquo; I raised the heavy lid
-      and looked in. &ldquo;I will hold the candle,&rdquo; I observed; &ldquo;will you get the
-      bottle? I can hardly reach it.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      He handed me the candle and bent low over the bin. Ha! ha! Quicker than a
-      flash of lightning I tipped up his heels (he was easily overbalanced), and
-      into the bin he fell headlong. Down came the heavy lid. But there was no
-      padlock on it. I must hurry! Blowing out the candle, I ran, for I knew the
-      way, straight to the cellar steps and up them&mdash;like a cat. Then with
-      a locked door between myself and my burglar, I could breathe.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I heard the man kicking about down below, for of course he got out of the
-      bin at once. But our cellar is a labyrinth. Seizing father's old gun from
-      its resting-place in the hall, I sat down near the door at the head of the
-      stairs, waiting for the worst.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The door was fairly strong&mdash;that I knew; but he was a powerful man.
-      So I dragged a heavy table from the sitting-room and placed it against it.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Suddenly I became conscious that he had found his way to the stairs and
-      was rapidly approaching the door, which was all that lay between me and
-      his revengeful fury.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Bracing myself against the opposite wall, I raised the old gun, and,
-      deliberately aiming it, waited.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      He began by pounding with both fists on the door, but, not receiving any
-      answer, he tried threats. An instinct seemed to tell him I would remain on
-      guard.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      His language, I must confess, while threatening, was not abusive. It was,
-      in fact, incredibly elegant for a burglar, and strictly grammatical.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      All at once there came a crash, followed by the creaking of heavy timber,
-      and the door fell. Down he came on top of it, sprawling at my feet on the
-      floor. I raised my gun and fired.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Hit him?&rdquo; I interrupted.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied Miss Gwynne; &ldquo;here in the wall of the dining-room the bullet
-      lodged, and is still there.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The next thing I was conscious of was Mrs. Griffiths bending over me, and
-      her husband's voice exclaiming:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;He'd never have escaped if we had not left that door open when we came
-      in. You see we got home just in time to hear you fire the gun, and as we
-      ran in he ran out. Drat him!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      I raised myself on my elbow and looked eagerly about.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;He had no time to carry off a thing,&rdquo; said Mrs. Griffiths.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I would like to set my eyes on him,&rdquo; I remarked, when Miss Gwynne had
-      concluded her story. &ldquo;You are a distinguished woman and are&mdash;I
-      believe&mdash;the very first one who ever received an offer of marriage
-      from a burglar.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The lady smiled. &ldquo;Do you not remember reading about the capture of a
-      notorious bank robber, several years ago? The case created quite a
-      sensation, owing partly to the difficulty in tracing the thief, who was
-      clever enough to puzzle the most expert detectives and evade the police,
-      and also to the respectability of his position. No one could believe him
-      guilty.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Indeed I do remember it,&rdquo; I answered. &ldquo;Not only that, but I <i>saw</i>
-      the man after he was in prison. I happened to be going through Chester
-      Jail at the time and J&mdash;&mdash;&mdash; was pointed out to me. He was
-      quite distinguished looking. In fact, I did not believe him guilty.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Nor would I,&rdquo; said Miss Gwynne, &ldquo;if I had not known.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You mean,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;that he&mdash;&mdash;
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I mean that you saw <i>my burglar</i>.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0060" id="linkimage-0060"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:15%;">
-      <img src="images/5305.jpg" alt="5305 " width="100%" /><br /><a
-      href="images/5305.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </div>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0061" id="linkimage-0061"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0306.jpg" alt="0306 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0306.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0062" id="linkimage-0062"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0307.jpg" alt="0307 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0307.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0063" id="linkimage-0063"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0308.jpg" alt="0308 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0308.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div style="height: 4em;">
-      <br /><br /><br /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h2>
-      THE LADY IN ROUGE, By W. E. P. French
-    </h2>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0064" id="linkimage-0064"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="figleft" style="width:20%;">
-      <img src="images/9308.jpg" alt="9308 " width="100%" /><br /><a
-      href="images/9308.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </div>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Pretty woman! That's just like a man. Pretty chromo, you mean, Tom.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; in a hearty, pleasant voice, &ldquo;maybe you are the better judge; but
-      I don't believe she's 'made up,' and if I wasn't the most henpecked man on
-      earth I'd say she was the loveliest creature I ever saw. As for her hair,
-      it's&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Blondined! And so utterly impossible in color that it couldn't for a
-      moment fool anybody but a man,&rdquo; interrupted the first speaker, with
-      deliciously spiteful emphasis on the very common noun man.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Eyebrows stencilled, eyelashes darkened; lips, ears and finger tips
-      tinged with carmine&mdash;don't you know? Complexion enamel, vinegar rouge
-      and brunette powder&mdash;pshaw! The way the men go on about her makes me
-      positively ill. If you fall in love with her, Harry, you are no brother of
-      mine. I don't care to be sister-in-law to a lithograph in <i>fast</i>
-      colors.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You make me curious to see her, Nell, dear. By Jove, she must be either a
-      monster or a paragon! Have the spirit of a man, Tom, and tell me which.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Don't try to extract any more information from me, old man; my teeth are
-      positively chattering with terror. You can decide for yourself this
-      evening, if your ferocious sister will allow you to leave your room. By
-      the way,&rdquo; with an amused laugh, &ldquo;what do you suppose Nell and the rest of
-      her charitable sex up here have dubbed the poor girl? 'The lady in
-      rouge!'&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yes, and she ought to have a sign, 'Paint, don't touch.' I believe she is
-      a divorcée or a widow, and I know she's thirty in spite of her sickening
-      affectation of youth.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh, come, Nell, you are absolutely vicious. She is not a day over twenty,
-      and she has the prettiest name I ever heard, Violante Solander; accent on
-      the second syllable, Harry, not on the first, to rhyme with Hollander, as
-      the bride of my bosom insists on pronouncing it.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Sounds like a combination of Spanish and Scandinavian,&rdquo; the younger man
-      answers.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;It is,&rdquo; returns his brother-in-law. &ldquo;I have met her father several times
-      at the Cosmos Club in Washington. He is a Norwegian, a wonderfully
-      handsome man, of the purest blonde type, with charming old-time manners
-      and a voice as deep and sonorous as a fine bell. Jack Kendricks, who knows
-      him quite well, told me something of his history. As a young man he
-      traveled pretty much all over the world, and in South America met and
-      married Miss Viola's mother. She was an Ecuadorean of Spanish descent, and
-      so beautiful that she was called, in reference to her name, which was the
-      same as her daughter's, 'The Violet of Quito.' It is really a case of the
-      Arctic zone wedding the Equator.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Or of a walrus committing matrimony with a llama. No wonder she is
-      neither fish, flesh nor fowl,&rdquo; added madame, with a malicious emphasis
-      that made both men laugh.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      This conversation floated up to me as I sat smoking my cigar on the
-      forward edge of the hurricane deck of the little steamer that carried
-      passengers from the railroad station at the foot of a beautiful and
-      well-known lake in the Adirondacks to the village at the head of it,
-      whither we were all bound.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The party of three had crossed from the other side of the boat and Were
-      leaning against the guards immediately under me. Later on I came to know
-      them all well. The lady was a delightful little bundle of inconsistencies,
-      sharp of tongue, quick of temper and jealous of all that belonged to her,
-      but as generous as an Arab, very warm hearted, perfectly fearless and
-      honest and a loyal friend when won. She was born Miss Eleanor Van Zandt, a
-      family with a tree and traditions, pride, possessions and position; but
-      the fact that she belonged in the top layer of the Four Hundred did not
-      prevent her, some ten years before, refusing a scion of the English
-      nobility (a very wealthy one, too, if you'll believe me), to her mother's
-      Infinite disgust, and giving her dimpled little hand, where she had
-      already given her heart, to big, kindly, genial Thomas Northrup, who was
-      every inch a man and a gentleman, but who was third in direct descent (and
-      gloried in it, too) from old John Northrup, saddle and harness maker, of
-      whom I have heard it told by one that saw it that he died on his sixtieth
-      birthday in the battle of Gettysburg, from some twenty bullet wounds
-      received while carrying the colors of his regiment, and that his last
-      words were: &ldquo;Don't let the Johnnies get the flag!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      I feel it to be my painful duty to relate that Madame Nell, when
-      remonstrated with by her family upon the plebeian nature of the match she
-      was about to make, flew into a violent rage and said she would gladly
-      trade a baker's dozen of her eminently high and wellborn Knickerbocker
-      ancestors for &ldquo;that grand old saddler.&rdquo; The Van Zandt crest is a lion
-      rampant gardant, and shortly after the wedding an aunt, who had declined
-      to be present, received a spirited sketch of the family beast, leaning
-      upon a musket in the position of parade rest, carrying a flag in his mouth
-      and bearing upon his lordly back a monstrous saddle, the motto in the
-      surrounding heraldic belt being, &ldquo;Don't let the Johnnies get the flag!&rdquo;
-       This cheerful device was accompanied by a very deferential and
-      affectionate note from the bride, asking her aunt if she did not think it
-      a pretty way of combining the Northrup family (saddle) tree with the crest
-      of the Van Zandts, or if she thought the &ldquo;dear old lion&rdquo; would appear to
-      better advantage under a saddle that would conceal him entirely from the
-      gaze of the vulgar herd.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The old lady declined to receive Mrs. Northrup from that time until the
-      day of her death, about four years later, but when her will was opened it
-      was found that she had left $200,000 to her niece, Eleanor Van Zandt, &ldquo;as
-      a mark of respect for her truth, courage and <i>artistic ability</i>,&rdquo; and
-      $10,000 for a monument &ldquo;to that gallant soldier and true gentleman, John
-      Northrup, who died on the field of Gettysburg in the defense of his
-      country's flag.&rdquo; Nell designed the monument, and every Decoration Day she
-      puts a saddle made of flowers on the old lady's grave. But to my tale.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Harry Van Zandt, at the time of which I write, was about twenty-six, tall,
-      broad shouldered, athletic, brown as to eyes, hair, skin and pointed
-      beard, an engineer and architect by profession, an advanced and liberal
-      thinker for so young a man, full of high spirits, though with a depth and
-      earnestness of purpose very refreshing in these days when selfish
-      indifference is the rule, and altogether a manly, honorable, self reliant
-      and energetic young fellow. He had charming manners, reverenced all women,
-      rich or poor, proud or humble, and treated old people with an affectionate
-      deference that won him many friends.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The steamer had changed her course to the left rather sharply, heading for
-      her wharf, when a Long Lake boat, with a woman at the sculls and a young
-      man holding the tiller ropes, crossed our bow and floated by within
-      fifteen feet of us. I did not need the quick, &ldquo;There she is! Look, Harry!&rdquo;
-       from Mr. Northrup to know that it was Miss Solander. She had turned her
-      head slightly toward them to bow, and the setting sun shone squarely in
-      her face, making the wonderful amber hair seem a nimbus of golden light
-      against the dark background of her huge Gainsborough hat.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      A more perfectly, harmoniously, radiantly beautiful girl I have never
-      seen. Her coloring was simply marvelous, and I inclined to Mrs. Northrup's
-      opinion that it must be artificial. It is impossible to give an adequate
-      description of her&mdash;the wonderful child-woman. A face of rounded and
-      exquisite contours, the skin of that warmest, richest, brunette type that
-      is almost dusky; cheeks that had the soft, tender, velvety bloom of a
-      sun-kissed peach; a charming mouth, scarlet as a flower, ripe, luscious,
-      sensitive, ready to curve with sweet, swift laughter or to droop with
-      grief. Her eyes, in the glimpse I had of her, I took to be black or a very
-      dark brown, but later I found they were of that rare deep blue that
-      becomes violet by an artificial light, and, indeed, owing to the length
-      and thickness of the dark lashes, it was not easy at any time to determine
-      their exact color, much less shade. Well, she was more nearly perfect than
-      any other human thing I ever hope to see.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br />
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      From her gold-flax curls' most marvelous shine,
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent20">
-      Down to her lithe and delicate feet,
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent15">
-      There was not a curve nor a waving line
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent20">
-      But moved in a harmony firm and sweet.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br />
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      As she passed from view I looked down at the trio below me. Mrs. Northrup
-      was regarding her brother curiously, and I don't think either she or I was
-      at all surprised when he turned, his face aglow with enthusiasm, and said:
-      &ldquo;What a lovely girl!&rdquo; Then, with quick change of tone, &ldquo;Who is that man
-      with her?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Lovely as a Prang,&rdquo; remarked my lady, dryly. &ldquo;The man is your hated
-      rival, of whom you are already madly jealous. He is young, beautiful and
-      rich, dances divinely, speaks <i>real</i> English and has very nearly a
-      tablespoonful of brains&mdash;not that he needs such a preponderance of
-      brain, for he has enough money to make a social success of a jibbering
-      idiot. His name is Francis Floyd-Jones, but we speak of him affectionately
-      as 'Fluggeon,' and those that know him best sometimes lovingly refer to
-      him as 'Balaam's Ass'&mdash;but you'll like him, Harry.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Van Zandt's reply I did not hear, as I discreetly moved away; but I heard
-      both men laugh, and I joined them heartily when at a safe distance.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      When we landed I found we were all bound for the same hotel, a capital
-      one, named for and kept by one of a famous hotel-keeping family. The
-      Northrups' little girl, a madcap child of six, was on the lawn waiting the
-      return of her parents and the arrival of her uncle, of whom she was
-      evidently very fond, although she abandoned him speedily in order to hug
-      and kiss his superb Irish setter, Blarney, who licked the small imp's face
-      calmly and appeared in his grave dog's way genuinely glad to see her.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Ethel, as I found out in a day or two, had taken one of those intense
-      fancies that children do occasionally to almost entire strangers to &ldquo;the
-      lady in rouge,&rdquo; and would escape to her whenever chance permitted. Poor
-      Mrs. Northrup! Her ranks were deserters to the enemy. Her husband openly
-      admired the gorgeously-tinted girl, her child simply worshipped her, her
-      brother had palpably fallen in love at first sight, and, when we came out
-      from dinner, it was found that Blarney had dumbly sworn allegiance to the
-      violet of two zones and could with difficulty be induced to leave her. The
-      dog's infatuation was put to-practical service by his master during the
-      next few weeks, for that astute young gentleman, when unable to discover
-      the whereabouts of his idol by peering and prowling, would take one of
-      Blarney's silky ears in his hand and whisper, &ldquo;Go, find her, boy,&rdquo; which
-      the clever animal promptly proceeded to do, usually successfully, though
-      often the search would receive a check on the edge of the lake and be
-      resumed after a run of a mile on the island.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Madame Nell and I soon discovered that we had a host of common friends in
-      New York and Washington, and that an uncle on her mother's side (poor Dick
-      Whitney, who was lost on the <i>Ville de Havre</i>) had been a classmate
-      of mine at Harvard forty odd years before. These kindly young people were
-      as good and affectionate to me as though I had been a relative, and the
-      heart of a lonely old man went out to them gratefully and lovingly.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      By the way, I am tempted to repeat a compliment that I overheard toward
-      the end of the summer, because it was the pleasantest and heartiest I ever
-      had paid to me, or rather about me. Charge it to the garrulity of age or
-      simple conceit, but here it is:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I came up behind them one dark night on the piazza, just as Mrs. Northrop
-      turned to her husband and said: &ldquo;Do you know, Tom, dear, I think Dr. Zobel
-      is the very nicest old man I ever knew; he has the head of a sage and the
-      fresh, pure heart of a little child.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0065" id="linkimage-0065"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0316.jpg" alt="0316 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0316.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      There was a hop that first evening in the large drawing room of the hotel,
-      and a little while before the music began I wandered in to find three or
-      four small groups talking and laughing, among them Van Zandt and his
-      sister. She made room for me on the sofa, and said I should be her
-      attendant cavalier, as she did not intend to dance. We chatted a bit and
-      then madame began a running commentary on the people as they entered.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;The Robinsons&mdash;papa, mamma and daughter. Papa looketh upon the wine
-      when it is red. Mamma is a devout Catholic. Daughter openly defies both
-      parents and, I am convinced, hath a devil. I have ventured to rename them
-      'Rum, Romanism and Rebellion.'&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What De Quincy would call 'an overt act of alliteration,' Nell,&rdquo; said Van
-      Zandt, and added: &ldquo;Who is the imposing-looking old girl leading the small,
-      meek man?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Where? Oh! of course. The lion and the lamb. Mrs. Colter is literary,
-      writes things, reads Browning understanding (happy woman!), quotes Greek
-      to people that never harmed her, and herds the lamb, who never has any
-      capers in his sauce, and who is, I am told, her third matrimonial
-      venture.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;A fulfillness of prophecy,&rdquo; murmured Harry, &ldquo;'And the lion and the lamb
-      shall lie down together.'&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Harry, you are incorrigible. The young man of peculiarly unwholesome
-      appearance who has just sneaked in is, I am morally certain, Uriah Heep,
-      though he says his name is Penrose. That [as a handsome old lady of large
-      proportions came into the room] is Miss Eldridge. She is very nice, but is
-      omnipresent, so we call her 'The Almighty,' Her escort is Mr. Hinton; he
-      is the biggest, jolliest and&mdash;except my Tom&mdash;the bestnatured man
-      here. Everyone calls him 'Jumbo' or 'Billy' Look out for him, Buz; he is
-      another rival and determined to have the chromo at any price. There she is
-      with 'Buttons' in tow, and the disconsolate 'Wafer' vainly endeavoring to
-      console himself with his divinity's aunt.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The young gentlemen were aptly named. The first, a handsome young West
-      Pointer on furlough, in all the glory of cadet gray and a multitude of
-      bell buttons; the other, a pleasant-faced fellow, surprisingly tall and
-      thin. Nell had introduced Van Zandt and me to Miss Solander and her aunt
-      shortly after dinner, and I had had a very pleasant chat with the stately,
-      whitehaired old lady, who was so proud and fond of her exquisite niece.
-      She was Mr. Solander's sister and the widow of Captain Dupont of the
-      French Navy.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Several friends of Mrs. Northrup joined her, and Van Zandt excused himself
-      and went to make one of the little group of men around Miss Solander,
-      followed by a parting injunction from his sister to remember that benzine
-      would remove paint spots if applied while they were fresh.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Beautiful as this flower-faced girl was at all times, by lamp light and in
-      evening dress she was lovely beyond all power of words to express, and as
-      I came to know her I found that her beauty was not alone in her superb
-      coloring, in the perfect lines of her face and figure or in her exuberant
-      health, but was in her life; for she was&mdash;and is&mdash;that rare,
-      sweet thing, a womanly woman, brave, strong, gentle, generous, pure of
-      heart and clean of thought, a lover of truth, a hater of meanness, with a
-      mind broadened by travel and burnished by attrition; and she carried,
-      moreover, a cloak of charity of such wide and ample fold that it fell
-      lovingly over even the follies and frailties of those weaker ones of her
-      own sex and was proof against the arrows of envy.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      With old people and children she was a great favorite; the men were her
-      enthusiastic admirers, and a good half dozen of them were helplessly,
-      hopelessly, over head and ears in love with her; but a number of the young
-      married women and girls professed strong disapproval of her, on similar
-      grounds to those outlined by Mrs. Northrup on the steamer, though I had my
-      private suspicions that, in some cases at least, they were a trifle
-      jealous of the attention she received from the men, who, as is generally
-      the case at summer resorts, were not overabundant. Mrs. Northrup's dislike
-      was an honest one, for she firmly believed the girl was artificial, and
-      having carefully avoided an intimacy knew but little of the lovely nature
-      and bright mind that no one was better fitted to appreciated than she.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Besides, Madame Nell was a born matchmaker and wanted her adored brother
-      to marry her particular friend and crony, Miss Carrie Belmont, a
-      brighteyed, keen-witted, merry little soul, who took nothing seriously
-      except medicine and had about as much fixedness of purpose as a month-old
-      kitten. To a man like Van Zandt, who needed both the curb and spur of a
-      mentality as strong and earnest as his own, she would have been about as
-      valuable a helpmeet as was poor little Dora to David Copperfield. But Nell
-      was fond of the pretty, clever little creature, felt sure (as our mothers
-      and sisters, God bless 'em! always do) that her brother was thoroughly
-      incapable of picking out the right kind of a wife, and weeks before he
-      came had perceived in Miss Solander's marvelous loveliness a dangerous and
-      powerful factor in the personal equations she wished to make equal to each
-      other, so that by the transposition of matrimony they should become one.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Of course this knowledge came to me gradually; but even that first
-      evening, as Van Zandt and Miss Solander passed near us in the waltz, I
-      could see that he was wonderfully taken with his fair partner. For the
-      next few days he was more or less the victim of some little sisterly traps
-      that were set with great tact and amused Northrup and me immensely. Then
-      my young gentleman escaped and made great running, distancing &ldquo;Buttons,&rdquo;
-       &ldquo;The Wafer,&rdquo; &ldquo;Balaam's Ass,&rdquo; and the rest of what Nell called the &ldquo;fry,&rdquo;
-       and crowding Hinton closely for what each felt was his life's race for a
-      prize that might be for neither of them. They were a nice, manly, generous
-      pair of rivals, and I never saw either take an unfair advantage of the
-      other. I remember one day I was fishing, when they both rushed down to
-      their boats and started for the island at racing stroke. Just as they were
-      abreast of me Van Zandt, who was leading, broke a rowlock, and Hinton
-      forged ahead; but the moment he saw what had occurred he backed water,
-      tossed Harry an extra rowlock, waited until he had put it in, and then
-      away they went again.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Which was the favored one it was for some time difficult to decide, as the
-      girl was evidently used to a great deal of attention, and accepted it
-      gracefully and even gratefully; but yet somehow as though it was a matter
-      of course. She took many things as matters of course, by the way, among
-      others her beauty, of which she was as little vain as a flower is of its
-      color or perfume, and she labored under the pleasant delusion that men
-      liked her simply because she could dance and ride and row and shoot and
-      play tennis. There was another thing she played beside tennis, and that
-      was the banjo, and it seemed to me that her rich, flexible contralto, the
-      liquid tingle of the banjo and the Spanish words of the song she loved
-      best to sing, made a harmony as soft and sweet as the fragrant, moonlit
-      nights of her Southern home.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Until I read the generous and intelligent praise of the banjo by the
-      gifted pen of America's greatest writer of romance, I had been rather
-      diffident of expressing my liking for this charming instrument, partly
-      because it was rather impressed upon me by my parents, who were a little
-      tinged with Puritanism, that it was low, and partly because a musical
-      friend, whose opinion in matters harmonic I always deferred to, disliked
-      it; but, under the rose, I thought it delicious, and many years ago I used
-      to wander pretty often to a beer garden in New York, where an old darky
-      named Horace touched the strings with a master's hand and drew from them
-      the half sad, half merry, but wholly sweet melodies of his child-hearted
-      race, which always struck some responsive chord in me that no other music
-      ever did.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      There was a good deal of musical talent in the three hotels that summer.
-      Miss Solander, Miss Belmont, Hinton and Van Zandt were a capital quartet;
-      Mrs. Robinson was an accomplished pianist and accompanist; a young girl
-      from Troy sang Irish songs to a zither delightfully; &ldquo;Buttons&rdquo; gave us the
-      lays of West Point, and &ldquo;Balaam's Ass,&rdquo; as Mrs. Northrup expressed it,
-      &ldquo;really brayed very melodiously.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Van Zandt had one decided advantage over the other men in his wooing, for
-      he had brought his own saddle horse with him, and as Miss Solander had
-      hers, a beautiful and very fast bay mare, and was an enthusiastic
-      horsewoman, riding nearly every day, wet or dry, he frequently managed to
-      be her escort.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      They asked me to go with them one morning for a long ride through the
-      mountains, and as it was not impossible that we might see a deer or some
-      birds Miss Viola took her repeating shotgun, a pretty and close-shooting
-      little weapon with which she was very expert, and Van Zandt and I our
-      Stevens rifles.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      My mount was the best to be had in the village, and was a strong, slow
-      animal, intended by nature to grace a plow.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      It was a grand day, crisp and clear, and the first level stretch of road
-      we came to my young companions decided to have a race. Away they went,
-      Blarney and I at an increasing interval behind them. At a turn in the
-      road, about a quarter of a mile ahead, Harry's big gray was leading the
-      mare by a good length, and when they rejoined me Miss Solander
-      acknowledged her defeat handsomely, but put in a saving clause for her pet
-      by adding, &ldquo;She runs her best when frightened. I don't think even your
-      splendid gray could catch her if we saw a bear.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Harry laughed pleasantly, said he imagined his horse, too, might develop
-      unexpected speed under such circumstances, and we cantered on. A little
-      before noon we left the main road and struck into a bridle path that led
-      through a dense pine forest, utterly impassable by reason of fallen trees
-      and underbush, except on the narrow trail. We had not gone far when our
-      way seemed barred by a huge dead pine that had fallen slantingly across
-      the path and rested on a great boulder on the other side. It was too high
-      to jump near the roots without great danger and the triangular opening by
-      the rock did not look high enough for a horse to go through. However, we
-      dismounted and managed to get the animals through, though there was very
-      little room to spare.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      In about half a mile we came to the edge of the wood, and the trail
-      widened out to ten or twelve feet, bordered by a dense second growth of
-      ash. Perhaps a thousand yards farther on Blarney became excited over some
-      fresh tracks in the sandy soil, which we found were those of a deer that
-      had passed only a few minutes before, as was shown by a clump of fern that
-      was slowly straightening its crushed and bent fronds by the side of the
-      narrow road. Miss Solander and I halted, while Harry rode quietly on ahead
-      after Blarney, who was acting rather queerly, I thought, following the
-      deer track for a few feet, then pausing, with nose in the air and
-      bristling back, to snuff the air and growl. Van Zandt spoke to him, and
-      the dog went steadily and slowly forward. He was a clever beast and the
-      only setter I ever saw that could hunt all kinds of game well. Miss
-      Solander promptly emptied the magazine of her shotgun, and refilled it
-      with wire cartridges loaded with &ldquo;buck and ball.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      I was watching Van Zandt, who was a few hundred feet away, when there was
-      a crashing noise in the brush, and midway between him and us a good-sized
-      black bear stepped out on the trail. My horse made a buck jump that nearly
-      unseated me and backed half his length into the bush. Bang! Bang! went
-      Miss Viola's gun. The bear stumbled, gave a roar of pain and rage, and
-      started for us. The mare plunged wildly, wheeled about sharply and flew
-      back by the way we came. The brute I rode was paralyzed with terror and I
-      could not budge him, nor did I dare to shoot for fear of hitting Van
-      Zandt, and my position of course kept his rifle silent. But he took in the
-      situation at a glance, fired in the air, gave a yell that a panther might
-      have envied, and came toward us at a gallop.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0066" id="linkimage-0066"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0326.jpg" alt="0326 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0326.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      The bear turned to look at this new enemy, and rose promptly on his hind
-      legs to receive him. I saw the gray swerve slightly, heard a savage &ldquo;Jump,
-      &mdash;&mdash;&mdash; you!&rdquo; from Van Zandt, saw his spurs go home, and
-      then the great horse rise to the leap and skim over the bear in a splendid
-      arch. Blarney, who was just behind his master, was not so fortunate. He
-      lit fairly on the bear, and was sadly scratched and bitten before he got
-      away. Van Zandt shouted, &ldquo;I must catch her before she gets to the fallen
-      tree!&rdquo; and went by me like a whirlwind. It was not much over a mile, she
-      had a hundred yards and more the start of him, and the mare was going like
-      the wind. I fired a shot as soon as the gray passed me, and the report
-      seemed to rouse my horse, who, oblivious to spur and voice, had cowered
-      shivering in the brush, for he shook himself, snorted, took a last look at
-      the bear, which was preparing to join the procession, turned tail and
-      fled, developing speed of which I would not have believed him capable.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      It was a horrible ride, not on account of the bear, which might have been
-      a mouse for all the thought I gave it, but because there, ahead of me, in
-      that narrow road, a beautiful girl, just blossoming into splendid
-      womanhood, was rushing to an awful, ghastly death, and a few cruel yards
-      behind her the man that loved her and would so gladly have given his life
-      for hers. Oh, how my heart ached for him, and how I wished the old man
-      that was third in that terrible race might die instead of that sweet
-      child-woman! Could he overtake her? He was spurring fiercely and the gray
-      was doing his best; but though the gap between them was closing, it was
-      closing slowly&mdash;and we had entered the wood. Yes, he was surely
-      gaining now, sixty feet more and he would have her. But there was the
-      tree, and he couldn't reach her in time. I covered my eyes with my hands
-      and turned sick and faint. Then came back to me in a man's voice grown
-      shrill with agony, one word, and following it crash! crash! in rapid
-      succession, and again the sound of the hurrying hoof beats.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      I opened my eyes. Was I blinded by my tears? There were no dreadful
-      bundles under the tree. Then that word, with its fierce, imperious note of
-      command, which had conveyed no meaning to me in that first awful moment,
-      came through the porch of the outer ear, where it had lingered, into the
-      brain, and I understood&mdash;&ldquo;Jump!&rdquo; He had taken the one chance left to
-      them at the last moment, shrieked his order at her, and she had obeyed,
-      lifting her mare to a leap that looked impossible. He had followed her,
-      and they had cleared it safely, for I could see their heads over the
-      fallen trunk. I checked my horse, dismounted, led him through the opening
-      and galloped on again.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      In a few moments I had the pleasure of seeing the gray range up alongside
-      of the mare and Van Zandt seize her bridle. I joined them and found they
-      were sound in life and limb. Harry was standing by the mare's head,
-      quieting her, and somehow he had gotten possession of a little gauntleted
-      hand and was looking at the girl with a world of love in his fine eyes.
-      She was quite pale, but her face was steadfast and strong, and in it as
-      she met Van Zandt's look frankly was the dawning of something that she was
-      unaware of yet, something that, if she lived would crown her lover's life
-      with happiness &ldquo;sweet beyond compare&rdquo;&mdash;and my old heart was glad for
-      them both.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Neither Blarney nor the bear was in sight, and as I had hung on to my
-      rifle half unconsciously I proposed going back to look for the dog, but
-      they insisted on accompanying me, and Miss Solander showed her own gun in
-      its carbine holster with the flap buttoned. I tell you it took nerve for a
-      girl on a runaway horse to do that bit of work. Well, we went cautiously
-      back, Van Zandt holding a strap fastened to the mare's bridle, and I on
-      ahead. Nothing in sight until we got out of the wood and had made a slight
-      turn. Then we saw Blarney, very ragged and bloody, but with an air of
-      proud ownership, sniffing around the dead body of the bear. We had some
-      trouble in bringing up the horses, but managed it finally.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Everyone seemed to feel after that that Van Zandt would win and wear the
-      violet. Even Mrs. Northrup was preparing to bow gracefully to the
-      inevitable, when Ethel came on the scene in the rôle of &ldquo;enfante terrible&rdquo;
-       and spoke her little piece.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      It was a lovely summer afternoon. The next day, Monday, was Miss Viola's
-      twenty-first birthday; her father was to arrive by the evening boat, and
-      several of the young men had planned rowing and sailing races in her
-      honor. Mr. and Mrs. Northrup, Miss Belmont, Hinton and I were chatting in
-      a little summer house just by the edge of the lake, and a few feet away,
-      Viola, Harry and Ethel were skipping flat stones over the water. In a
-      pause in our talk, which had been of Byron, just after someone had quoted:
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br />
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent20">
-      She was his life,
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent20">
-      The ocean to the river of his thoughts,
-    </p>
-    <p class="indent20">
-      Which terminated all,
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br />
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      We were all looking at the trio outside and speculating probably upon the
-      future of two of them, when we saw Ethel seize Miss Solander's hand, look
-      up at her adoringly, and heard her say, in her childish pipes: &ldquo;You're so
-      pretty! Why does mamma called you 'the colored lady?' You're not a nigger,
-      are you?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The girl flushed painfully, but stooped, kissed the child and, looking
-      straight at Mrs. Northrup, said very gently: &ldquo;No, dear; and if mamma knew
-      me better she would not think I was colored.&rdquo; Then she turned, bowed
-      slightly and walked rapidly up the beach. Nell burst into tears, Van Zandt
-      muttered something that didn't sound like a prayer and tore after his lady
-      love. Northrup was so startled and angry that, instead of comforting his
-      wife, he gave her a little shake and exploded with: &ldquo;It's too &mdash;&mdash;-
-      &mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash; bad! A nice mess you and the brat have
-      made of things!&rdquo; Then, as the ludicrous side of the affair appealed to his
-      fun-loving nature: &ldquo;To save time, I'll spank Ethel while you roll out the
-      crust of a nice, re: &ldquo;To save time, I'll spank Ethel while you roll out
-      the crust of a nice, big humble pie.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Hinton and Miss Belmont slunk off, and I was preparing to follow them,
-      when the unhappy little woman sobbed out, &ldquo;Oh, Doctor, please, please
-      don't go! Stay and tell me what to do. Tom's so nasty&mdash;if you laugh,
-      Tom dear, I'll kill you.&rdquo; So I stayed, and while we were consulting what
-      was best to do Van Zandt came quietly into the summer house, his face and
-      tightly-closed lips ashen, and his eyes the eyes of a strong man in pain.
-      Nell rushed at him, exclaiming: &ldquo;My poor Harry, my darling brother! I am
-      so sorry; try to forgive me!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      He put her away from him with no show of anger, but very coldly, and then,
-      very evenly and in an emotionless, mechanical sort of way, he said: &ldquo;I
-      have asked Miss Solander to be my wife. She refused me. I hope you are
-      satisfied. I give you my word of honor that I will never forgive you, nor
-      speak to you, until she accepts your apology and my love&mdash;and that
-      will be never,&rdquo; he added, heavily, and half under his breath. There was no
-      doubt that he meant it and would stick to it, and his sister, who knew he
-      never broke his word, after one appealing look at him, threw herself in
-      her husband's arms and sobbed miserably. I followed the boy and took an
-      old man's privilege. He listened patiently and thanked me affectionately,
-      but it was of no use. Then I tried to find Miss Viola, and came across
-      Nell on the same quest; but no one saw her until the next afternoon.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Monday was cloudy and windy, a real gray day. The races were to begin at 3
-      o'clock, and the entire community was gathered on the shore of the lake.
-      Both Miss Solander and Van Zandt were entered, and I knew their pride
-      would make them show up. The first race was for ladies in Long Lake boats
-      over a half mile course and return, six entries, a handicap of one hundred
-      yards on Miss Solander and fifty on Mrs. Claggett. Viola beat it
-      handsomely and then rowed directly across to the island, where she would
-      have a good view of the sailing race, though I think her object was more
-      to escape the crowd.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0067" id="linkimage-0067"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0332.jpg" alt="0332 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0332.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      After an interval of a few minutes three canoes, manned by Hinton, Van
-      Zandt and another man, came up to the starter's boat.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The canoes got away together, Van Zandt to leeward. They had gone perhaps
-      a quarter of a mile when a squall from the opposite shore struck them, and
-      the canoe with the violet pennant (Harry's) went over like a flash, the
-      other two, with loose sheets, running before the wind. Mrs. Northrup
-      screamed, and so did several other women; but Van Zandt was a capital
-      swimmer, and I expected every moment to see him on the bottom of the
-      canoe.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Half a dozen men started in rowboats, but one shot out from the island and
-      fairly flew for the capsized craft. It was Viola, and we saw her, when she
-      reached her goal, stand up, shake off her outer skirts and dive. I had a
-      powerful glass, and when she came up I saw she had him and was trying to
-      reach her boat, which was drifting away. She gave that up and struggled
-      toward the canoe. They went down, and then the rescue boats hid them. It
-      seemed an eternity before two boats pulled swiftly toward us. In the first
-      was Van Zandt, a nasty cut on his head and unconscious, but breathing
-      faintly. In the next, held in the arms of poor &ldquo;Buttons,&rdquo; whose tears were
-      dropping on her lovely white face, was the sweet child-woman, all the
-      wonderful rose tints gone from lip and cheek and in its place the sad,
-      cold hue of death. There was no sign of vitality, and I was hopeless from
-      the first; but we were still working over her when the steamer came in,
-      and the next thing we knew there was a heart-broken cry and her father had
-      her in his arms.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Was it the bitter agony and yearning love in that strong man's cry that
-      called back the fleeing life, or was it the sudden jar of lifting her and
-      the fierce clasp of her father's arms that started the stilled lungs? I do
-      not know; but, physician though I am, I incline to the former solution.
-      Whatever may have been the cause there was a faint flutter in pulse and
-      breast, and we renewed our efforts. In half an hour she was breathing
-      softly and the color was coming back to her bonny face. Her father carried
-      her up to the hotel and her aunt and Mrs. Northrup got her to bed. She
-      recovered rapidly, but Van Zandt was pretty ill for about a week, and
-      positively refused to see his sister.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Well, I suppose it was officious and meddlesome in me, but one day when I
-      knew where Violante was I took Nell's hand in my arm and brought them
-      together. In a few minutes they were crying over each other in real
-      womanly fashion, and I prowled off. In about ten minutes little Nell, her
-      eyes shining with happiness, hunted me up and said, &ldquo;I want you to take me
-      to Harry.&rdquo; She showed me in her hand a beautiful and curious ring, which I
-      knew was the engagement ring of Miss Viola's mother. Harry was sitting in
-      an easy chair, with his back to the door, when we entered, and, without
-      turning his head, he asked, &ldquo;Is that you, Doctor?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      I answered him, and then Nell stole up behind him, dropped the great ruby
-      in his lap, and whispered, with a sob in her voice, &ldquo;With my dear sister
-      Violante's love.&rdquo; Harry looked at the ring stupidly for an instant, then
-      Nell came around in front of him, and he pulled her down into his arms
-      without a word. And I stole away with wet eyes and a glad heart, and told
-      the news to Tom and Carrie and that prince of good fellows, &ldquo;Jumbo&rdquo;
-       Hinton.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      That is about all. Mr. Solander gave his consent and something more
-      substantial, and two months later I went to the wedding of &ldquo;The Lady in
-      Rouge.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0068" id="linkimage-0068"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0335.jpg" alt="0335 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0335.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0069" id="linkimage-0069"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0336.jpg" alt="0336 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0336.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div style="height: 4em;">
-      <br /><br /><br /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h2>
-      THE BREAKING OF WINTER, By Patience Stapleton
-    </h2>
-    <p class="pfirst">
-      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>hat's the fust
-      funerel I've went to sence I was a gal, but that I drove to the
-      graveyard.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I dunno as that done the corp enny good.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;An' seems all to onc't I miss old Tige,&rdquo; muttered the first speaker half
-      to herself.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      It was snowing now, a fine mist sifting down on deep-drifted stone-walls
-      and hard, shining roads, and the tinkle of sleigh-bells, as a far-away
-      black line wound over the hill to the bleak graveyard, sounded musical and
-      sweet in the muffled air. Two black figures in the dazzling white
-      landscape left the traveled road and ploughed heavily along a lane leading
-      to a grove of maples, cold and naked in the winter scene.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;They say Ann Kirk left a good prop'ty,&rdquo; said the first speaker, a woman
-      of fifty, with sharp black eyes, red cheeks, few wrinkles and fewer gray
-      hairs in the black waves under her pumpkin hood. She pulled her worn fur
-      cape around her neck and took a new grasp on her shawl, pinning it tight.
-      &ldquo;Ann an' me used to take a sight of comfort driving old Tige.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The man, her companion, grunted and went sturdily ahead. He was enveloped
-      in a big overcoat, a scarf wound around his neck and a moth-eaten fur cap
-      pulled down over his ears. His blue eyes were watery from the cold, his
-      nose and chin peaked and purple, and frost clung to the short gray beard
-      about his mouth.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Who'll git the prop'ty?&rdquo; panted the woman. She held her gown up in front,
-      disclosing a pair of blue socks drawn over her shoes.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Relashuns, I s'pose.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;She was alius so savin', keepin' drip-pins for fryin', and sfellin'
-      nearly every mite of butter they made; an' I've heered the Boston
-      relashuns was extravagant. Her sister hed on a black silk to the funerel
-      to ride to the grave in; I guess they are well-to-do.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Dunno,&rdquo; gruffly.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Somehow then the woman remembered that glossy silk, and that she had never
-      had one. Then this sister's husband, how attentive he was leading his wife
-      out to the sleigh, and she had seen them walking arm-in-arm the past
-      summer, when no man in Corinth ever offered his arm to his wife unless it
-      were to a funeral and they were first mourners. &ldquo;Silas never give me his
-      arm but the fust Sunday we were merried,&rdquo; she thought; &ldquo;bein' kind to
-      wimmen wan't never the Loweirs way.&rdquo; A sharp pain in her side made her
-      catch her breath and stop a moment, but the man paid no heed to her
-      distress. At the end of a meadow on a little rise looking down a long,
-      shady lane, stood a gray old farm-house, to which age had given
-      picturesqueness and beauty, and here Maria Lowell had lived the thirty
-      years of her married life. She unlocked the door and went into the cold
-      kitchen where the fire had died down. A lean cat came purring from under
-      the table, and the old clock seemed to tick more cheerily now the mistress
-      had returned.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;A buryin' on Christmas Eve, the minister said, and how sad it were, and I
-      felt like tellin' him Ann an' me never knowed Christmas from enny other
-      day, even to vittles, for turkeys fetched better prices then, an' we sold
-      ourn.&rdquo; She went into a frozen bedroom, for Corinth folks would have
-      thought a man crazy to have a fire in a sleeping-room except in sickness;
-      she folded her shawl and cape and laid them carefully on the feather bed,
-      covered with its gay quilt, the fruit of her lonely hours. Mechanically
-      she set about getting supper, stirring the fire, putting a pan of soda
-      biscuits in to bake, and setting a dish of dried-apple sauce and a plate
-      of ginger cookies on the table. &ldquo;Berried on Chrismus Eve, but little she
-      ever thought of it, nor me, and little of it Jimmy hed here to home.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      She looked at her biscuits, slammed the oven door, glanced cautiously
-      around to see if Silas, who had gone to milk the cow, were coming; then
-      drawing her thin lips tighter, went back into the cold bedroom. With
-      ruthless hand tearing open an old wound, she unlocked a drawer in the old
-      mahogany bureau and took out something rolled in a handkerchief&mdash;only
-      a tiny vase, blue and gilt, woefully cheap, laughed at by the cultured,
-      scorned by the children of today. She held it tenderly in her cold hand
-      and brought back the memory that would never die. It was years and years
-      ago in that very room, and a little child came in holding one chubby hand
-      behind him, and he looked at her with her own bright eyes under his curly
-      hair. &ldquo;Muver, Jimmy's got a s'prise.&rdquo; She remembered she told him crossly
-      to go out of the cold room and not bother her. She remembered, too, that
-      his lip quivered, the lip that had yet the baby curve. &ldquo;It was a present,
-      muver, like the minister sed. I got candy on the tree, but you didn't git
-      nawthin', and I buyed you this with my berry money.&rdquo; The poor little vase
-      in that warm chubby hand&mdash;ay, she forgot nothing now; she told him he
-      was silly to spend good money on trash, and flung the vase aside, but that
-      grieved childish face came back always. Ah, it would never fade away, it
-      had returned for a quarter of a century. &ldquo;I never was used to young ones,&rdquo;
-       she said aloud, &ldquo;nor kindness,&rdquo; but that would not heal the wound; no
-      self-apology could. She went hurriedly to the kitchen, for Silas was
-      stamping the snow off his feet in the entry.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I got fifty dollars for old Tige,&rdquo; he said, as he poured his tea into his
-      saucer to cool; &ldquo;he was wuth it, the honest old creetur!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The little black-eyed woman did not answer; she only tightened her lips.
-      Over the mantel where the open fireplace had been bricked up, was a
-      picture in a narrow black frame, a colored print of Washington on a fine
-      white horse, and maidens strewing flowers in his pathway.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;When Tige was feelin' good,&rdquo; continued Silas, &ldquo;he'd a monstrous likeness
-      to thet hoss in the pictur, monstrous! held his hed high an' pranced; done
-      you good to see him in Bath when them hosses tried to parss him; you'd a
-      thort he was a four-year-old! chock full of pride. The hackman sed he was
-      a good 'un, but run down; I don't 'low to overfeed stock when they ain't
-      wurkin'.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Ourn has the name of bein' half starved,&rdquo; muttered the woman.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Silas looked at her in some surprise. &ldquo;I ginerelly gits good prices for
-      'em all the same.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;We ginerelly overreach every one!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Goin' to Ann's funerel hez sorter upset ye, M'ri. Lord, how old Tige
-      would cavort when Jim would ride him; throw out his heels like a colt. I
-      never told the hackman Tige was eighteen year old. I ain't over pertikler
-      in a hoss trade, like everybody else. He wun't last long I calc'late now,
-      for them hack horses is used hard, standin' out late nights in the cold
-      an'&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Was the Wilkins place sold out ter-day?&rdquo; said the woman hastily, with
-      agonizing impatience to divert his thoughts to something else.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Yes, it were,&rdquo; chuckled Silas, handing his cup for more tea, &ldquo;an' they'll
-      have ter move ter Bosting. You was ginning me for bein' mean, how'd you
-      like to be turned outer doors? Ef I do say it, there ain't no money due on
-      my prop'ty, nor never was.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Who air you savin' it fur?&rdquo; said Maria, quietly. She sat with downcast
-      eyes tapping her spoon idly on her saucer; she had eaten nothing.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Fur myself,&rdquo; he growled, pushing his chair back. He lit a pipe and began
-      to smoke, his feet at the oven door.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Outside it was quite dark, snow and night falling together in a dense
-      black pall. Over the lonely roads drifted the snow, and no footfall marred
-      it. Through drear, silent forests it sifted, sifted down, clung to cheery
-      evergreens, and clasped shining summer trees that had no thought for
-      winter woes; it was heaped high over the glazed brooks that sang, deep
-      down, songs of summer time and gladness, like happy, good old folks whose
-      hearts are ever young and joyous. Over the wide Kennebec, in the line of
-      blue the ferry-boat kept open, the flakes dropped, dropped and made no
-      blurr, like the cellar builders of temples and palaces, the rank and file,
-      the millions of good, unknown dead, unmentioned in history or the Bible.
-      The waves seething in the confined path crackled the false ice around the
-      edges, leaped upon it in miniature breakers, and swirled far underneath
-      with hoarse murmur. In the dark water something dark rose and fell with
-      the tide. Was there a human being drifting to death in the icy sea? The
-      speck made no outcry; it battled nobly with nature's mighty force. Surely
-      and slowly the high wharfs and the lights of Bath faded; nearer grew the
-      woods of Corinth, the ferry landing and the tavern-keeper's lamp.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I heered suthin' on the ferry slip,&rdquo; said a little old man in the tavern,
-      holding his hand behind his ear.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Nawthin', night's too black,&rdquo; said the tavern-keeper; &ldquo;you're alius a
-      hearin' what no one else do, Beaman.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      No star nor human eye had seen the black speck on the wild water, and no
-      hand lent it aid to land.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      In ugly silence Silas smoked his pipe, while equally still, Maria washed
-      the dishes. She stepped to throw the dish-water outside the door and then
-      she heard a sound. The night was so quiet a noise traveled miles. What was
-      it, that steady smothered thud up the lane where so seldom a stranger
-      came? Was it only the beating of her heart after all? She shut the door
-      behind her and hurried out, wrapping her wet cold hands in her apron.
-      Suddenly there came a long, joyful neigh!
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;How on airth did that critter git home?&rdquo; cried Silas, jumping to his
-      feet.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Nearer, nearer, in a grand gallop, with tense muscles and quivering limbs,
-      with upraised head and flying mane, with eager eyes, nearer, in great
-      leaps thrusting time and distance far behind, came that apparition of the
-      night.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Oh, my God!&rdquo; cried the woman wildly, &ldquo;old Tige has come home&mdash;come
-      home to this place, and there is one living thing that loves it!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The light flared out from the open door. &ldquo;How on airth did he git across
-      the river?&rdquo; said Silas, querulously. &ldquo;An' how am I goin' to git him back
-      in this weather?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      There he stood, the noble old horse that her boy had raised from a colt,
-      had ridden, had given to her when he went away. &ldquo;Mother,&rdquo; her boy had
-      said, &ldquo;be good to old Tige. If ever father wants to sell him, don't you
-      let him. I'd come back from my grave if the old horse was abused&mdash;the
-      only thing I loved, that loved me in this place I cannot call a home.
-      Remember he has been so faithful.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Ay, he had been faithful, in long, hot summer days, in wide, weary fields,
-      in breaking the stony soil for others' harvest, in bringing wood from the
-      far forest, in every way of burden and work.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      He stood quivering with cold, covered with ice, panting after his wild
-      gallop; but he was home, poor brute mind! That old farm was his home: he
-      had frolicked in its green fields as a colt, had carried a merryvoiced
-      young master, had worked and rested in that old place; he might be
-      ill-treated and starved, he did not grieve, he did not question, for it
-      was home! He could not understand why this time the old master had not
-      taken him away; never before had he been left in Bath. In his brute way he
-      reasoned he had been forgotten, and when his chance came, leaped from the
-      barn, running as horse never ran before, plunged off the wharf into the
-      black waves, swam across and galloped to his home.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;If there is a God in Heaven, that horse shall not go back!&rdquo; cried the
-      woman fiercely; &ldquo;if you take him from here again it shall be over my dead
-      body! Ay, you may well look feared; for thirty years I have frozen my
-      heart, even to my own son, and now the end's come. It needed that faithful
-      brute to teach me; it needed that one poor creature that loved me and this
-      place, to open the flood-gates. Let me pass, and I warn you to keep away
-      from me. Women go mad in this lonely, starved life. Ay, you are a man, but
-      I am stronger now than you ever were. I've been taught all my life to mind
-      men, to be driven by them, and to-night is a rising of the weak. Put me in
-      the asylum, as other wives are, but tonight my boy's horse shall be
-      treated as never before.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;But M'ri,&rdquo; he said, trembling, &ldquo;there, there now, let me git the lantern,
-      you're white as a sheet! We'll keep him if you say so; why hadn't you told
-      me afore?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      She flung him aside, lit the lantern and then ran up to an attic chamber
-      under the eaves. &ldquo;M'ri, you hain't goin' to kill yourself?&rdquo; he quavered,
-      waiting at the foot of the stairs. She was back in a moment, her arms full
-      of blankets.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What on airth!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Let me alone, Silas Lowell, these were my weddin' blankets. I've saved
-      'em thirty years in the cedar chist for this. They was too good for you
-      and me; they air too poor fur my boy's horse.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;But there's a good hoss blanket in the barn.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;The law don't give you these; it mebbe gives you me, but these is mine.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      She flung by him, and he heard the barn door rattle back. He put on his
-      coat and went miserably after her, &ldquo;M'ri, here's yer shawl, you'll git yer
-      death.&rdquo; The barn lit by the lantern revealed two astonished oxen, a
-      mild-eyed cow, a line of hens roosting on an old hayrack and Maria rubbing
-      the frozen sides of the white horse. &ldquo;Put yer shawl on, M'ri, you'll git
-      yer death.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;An' you'd lose my work, eh? Leave me, I say, I'm burning up; I never will
-      be cold till I'm dead. I can die! there is death 'lowed us poor critters,
-      an' coffins to pay fur, and grave lots.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Silas picked up a piece of flannel and began to rub the horse. In ghastly
-      quiet the two worked, the man patching the woman, and looking timorously
-      at the axe in the corner. One woman in the neighborhood, living on a
-      cross-road where no one ever came, had gone mad and jnur-dered her
-      husband, but &ldquo;M'ri&rdquo; had always been so clear-headed! Then the woman went
-      and began piling hay in the empty stall.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You ain't goin' to use thet good hay fur beddin,' be ye, M'ri?&rdquo; asked
-      Silas in pathetic anxiety.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I tell you let me be. Who has a better right to this? His labor cut it
-      and hauled it; this is a time when the laborer shall git his hire.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Silas went on rubbing, listening in painful silence to the click of the
-      lock on the grain bin, and the swish of oats being poured into a trough.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Don't give him too much, M'ri,&rdquo; he pleaded humbly, &ldquo;I don't mean ter be
-      savin', but he'll eat hisself to death.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;The first that ever did on this place,&rdquo; laughed the woman wildly.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Then standing on the milking-stool she piled the blankets on the grateful
-      horse, then led him to the stall where she stood and watched him eat. &ldquo;I
-      never see you so free 'round a hoss afore,&rdquo; said Silas; &ldquo;you used to be
-      skeered of 'em, he might kick ye.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;He wouldn't because he ain't a man,&rdquo; she answered shrilly; &ldquo;it's only men
-      that gives blows for kindness!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Land of the living!&rdquo; cried Silas, as a step sounded on the floor, and a
-      queer figure came slowly into the glare of light by the lantern, a figure
-      that had a Rembrandt effect in the shadow&mdash;an old man, lean and tall,
-      shrouded in a long coat and bearing on his back a heavy basket.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You can't be a human creetur, comin' here to-night,&rdquo; said Maria; &ldquo;mebbe
-      you're the Santy Claus Jim used to tell on as the boys told him; no man in
-      his senses would come to Sile Lowell's fur shelter.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;M'ri's upsot,&rdquo; said Silas meekly, taking the lantern with trembling hand;
-      &ldquo;I guess you've got off the road; the tavern's two mile down toward the
-      river.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You've followed the right road,&rdquo; said Maria; &ldquo;you've come at a day of
-      reck'nin'; everythin' in the house, the best, you shall have.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      She snatched the light from Silas and slammed the barn door, leaving Tige
-      contentedly champing his oats, wondering if he was still dreaming, and if
-      his wild swim had been a nightmare followed by a vision of plenty. In the
-      kitchen Maria filled the stove, lit two lamps and began making new tea.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Thet was a good strong drorin' we hed fur supper, M'ri,&rdquo; said Silas,
-      plaintively, keenly conscious of previous economies; &ldquo;'pears to me you
-      don't need no new.&rdquo; She paid no heed to him, but set the table with the
-      best dishes, the preserves&mdash;Silas noted with a groan&mdash;and then
-      with quick, skillful hand began cutting generous slices of ham.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I hope you're hungry, sir?&rdquo; she asked eagerly.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Wal, I be, marm,&rdquo; said the stranger; &ldquo;an' if it ain't no trouble, I'll
-      set this ere basket nigh the stove, there's things in it as will spile. I
-      be consederable hungry, ain't eat a bite sence yesterd'y.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Silas's face grew longer and longer; he looked at the hamper hopefully.
-      That might contain a peddler's outfit and &ldquo;M'ri&rdquo; could get paid that way.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;An' I hain't money nor nawthin' to pay fur my vittles 'less there was
-      wood-sawin' to be done.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Wood's all sawed,&rdquo; said Silas bitterly.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I wouldn't take a cent,&rdquo; went on Maria, with flushed cheeks and sparkling
-      eyes. &ldquo;Ann Kirk thet hed the name of bein' as mean as me, was berried to
-      day, and folks that keered nawthin' fur her is a goin' to hev her money
-      an' make it fly. They say 'round here no grass will ever grow on her
-      grave, fur ev'ry blade will be blarsted by the curses of the poor.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;M'ri, you a perfessed Christian!&rdquo; cried Silas.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;There's good folks unperfessed,&rdquo; interposed the stranger; &ldquo;but I dunno
-      but a near Christian is better nor a spendthrift one as fetches up at the
-      poorhouse.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Right you air!&rdquo; said Silas, almost affably feeling he had an advocate.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The stranger was tall and bony, with a thin, wrinkled face bronzed by wind
-      and weather, with a goatee and mustache of pale brown hair, and a sparse
-      growth of the same above a high bald forehead; his eyes were a faded
-      brown, too, and curiously wistful in expression. His clothing was worn and
-      poor, his hands work-hardened, and he stooped slightly. When the meal was
-      ready he drew up to the table, Maria plying him with food.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Would you rather have coffee?&rdquo; she asked.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Now you've got me, marm, but land! tea'll do.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I should think it would,&rdquo; snarled Silas; but his grumbling was silenced
-      in the grinding of the coffee mill. When the ap-appetizing odor floated
-      from the stove, Silas sniffed it, and his stomach began to yearn. &ldquo;You put
-      in a solid cup full,&rdquo; he muttered, trying to worry himself into refusing
-      it.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;We want a lot,&rdquo; laughed Maria.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Set up an' eat,&rdquo; called the stranger cheerily; &ldquo;let's make a banquet;
-      it's Chrismus Eve!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;That ham do smell powerful good,&rdquo; muttered Silas, unconsciously drawing
-      his chair up to the table, where the stranger handed him a plate and
-      passed the ham. Maria went on frying eggs, as if, thought her husband,
-      &ldquo;they warn't twenty-five cents a dozen,&rdquo; and then ran down into the
-      cellar, returning panting and good-humored with a pan of apples and a jug
-      of cider; then into the pantry, bringing a tin box out of which she took a
-      cake.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;That's pound cake, M'ri,&rdquo; cried Silas, aghast, holding his knife and fork
-      upraised in mute horror. She went on cutting thick slices, humming under
-      her breath.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Might I, marm,&rdquo; asked the stranger, pleasantly, &ldquo;put this slice of ham
-      and cake and this cup of milk aside, to eat bymeby?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;How many meals do you eat in a evening?&rdquo; growled Silas, awestruck at such
-      an appetite; &ldquo;an' I want you to know this ain't no tavern.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Do eat a bite yourself, marm,&rdquo; said the stranger, as Maria carried the
-      filled plate to the cupboard. The impudence of a tramp actually asking the
-      mistress of the house to eat her own food, thought Silas. &ldquo;We've eat our
-      supper,&rdquo; he hurled at the stranger.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I couldn't tech a mite,&rdquo; said Maria, beginning to clear up, and as he was
-      through eating, the stranger gallantly helped her while Silas smoked in
-      speechless rage.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I'm used to being handy,&rdquo; explained the tramp. &ldquo;I allus helped wife.
-      She's bin dead these twenty years, leaving me a baby girl that I brought
-      up.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;You was good to her?&rdquo; asked Maria wistfully; the stranger had such a kind
-      voice and gentle ways.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I done the best I could, marm.&rdquo; Doubting his senses, Silas saw Maria
-      bring out the haircloth rocking-chair with the bead tidy from the best
-      front room. &ldquo;Lemme carry it,&rdquo; said the tramp politely. &ldquo;Now set in't
-      yerself, marin, an' be comfurble.&rdquo; He took a wooden chair, tilted it back
-      and picked up the cat. Maria, before she sat down, unmindful of Silas's
-      bewildered stare, filled one of his pipes with his tobacco.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I know you smoke, mister,&rdquo; she smiled.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Wal, I do,&rdquo; answered the tramp, whiffing away in great comfort. &ldquo;'Pears
-      to me you're the biggest-hearted woman I ever see.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      She laughed bitterly. &ldquo;There wan't a cluser woman in Corinth than me, an'
-      folks'll tell you so. I turned my own son outer doors.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;It was part my fault, Mri, an' you hush now,&rdquo; pleaded Silas, forgiving
-      even her giving his tobacco away if she would not bring out that family
-      skeleton.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I've heered you was cluse,&rdquo; said the stranger, &ldquo;an' thet you sent Jim off
-      because he went to circuses in Bath, an' wore store clothes, an' wanted
-      wages to pay for 'em.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;All true,&rdquo; said Maria, &ldquo;an' he wanted to ride the horse, an' was mad at
-      workin' him so hard.&rdquo; She went on then, and told how the old animal had
-      come home.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;An' me thinkin' the critter was a speerit,&rdquo; said the stranger in a hushed
-      voice. &ldquo;Beat's all what a dumb brute knows!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I thought mebbe,&rdquo; went on Maria, twisting her thin fingers, &ldquo;as Jim might
-      be comin' home this time. They says things happens curious when folks is
-      goin' ter die&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Your good fur a good meny years, M'ri,&rdquo; said Silas, pitifully.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;There's folks in this wurld,&rdquo; said the stranger, his kindly face growing
-      sad and careworn since the mother's eager words, &ldquo;that ain't men enuff,
-      an' comes to charity to the end&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;That there be,&rdquo; assented Silas.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;And as can't bring up their folks comfurble, nor keep 'em well an' happy,
-      nor have a home as ain't berried under a mortgage they can't never clear
-      off.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Ay, there's lots of 'em,&rdquo; cried Silas, &ldquo;an' Mis Lowell was a twitting me
-      this very night of bein' mean.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;An' this good home, an' the fields I passed thro', an' the lane where the
-      old hoss come a gallopin' up behind me, is paid fur, no mortgage on a
-      acre?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;There never was on the Lowell prop'ty; they'll tell ye thet ennywhere,&rdquo;
-       said Silas.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;We uns in the South, where I come from,&rdquo; said the stranger, shading his
-      face with his bony hand, &ldquo;ain't never forehanded somehow. My name is
-      Dexter Brown, marm, an' I was alius misfortinat. I tell you, marm, one day
-      when my creditors come an' took the cotton off my field, thet I'd plarnted
-      and weeded and worked over in the brilin' sun, my wife says&mdash;an'
-      she'd been patient and long-sufferin'&mdash;'Dex, I'm tired out; jest you
-      bury me in a bit of ground that's paid fur, an' I'll lie in peace,' an'
-      she died thet night.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Mebbe she never knowed what it were to scrimp an' save, an' do without,
-      an never see nawthin', till all the good died in her,&rdquo; muttered Maria.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Part o' my debt was wines an' good vittles fur her, marm.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I'll warrant!&rdquo; said Maria quickly, &ldquo;an' she never wept over the graves of
-      her dead children, an' heered their father complainin' of how much their
-      sickness hed cost him. Oh, I tell you, there's them that reckons human
-      agony by dollars an' cents, an' they're wus'n murderers!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;M'ri!&rdquo; cried Silas.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Mebbe, marm, you are over-worrited ternight,&rdquo; said the stranger softly;
-      &ldquo;wimmen is all feelin', God bless 'em! an' how yer son loved ye, a tellin'
-      of yer bright eyes an' red cheeks&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      She turned to him with fierce eagerness. &ldquo;He couldn't keer fur me, I wan't
-      the kind. I don't mind me of hardly ever kissin' him. I worked him hard; I
-      was cross an' stingy. He sed to me, 'There's houses that is never homes,
-      mother.' I sneered an' blamed him for his little present.&rdquo; She ran and
-      brought the vase. &ldquo;I've kept that, Mr. Brown, over twenty years, but when
-      he give it to me, bought outer his poor little savin's, I scolded him. I
-      never let him hev the boys here to pop corn or make candy; it was waste
-      and litter. Oh, I know what he meant; this was never a home.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;But he only spoke kind of ye alius.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Did you know Jim? Been gone this ten year, an' never a word.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Silas, a queer shadow on his face, looked eagerly at Brown.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I did know him,&rdquo; slowly and cautiously&mdash;&ldquo;he was a cowboy in Texas,
-      as brave as the best.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;He could ride,&rdquo; cried Maria, &ldquo;as part of a horse, an' Tige was the dead
-      image of that Washington horse in the pictur, an' Jim used to say thet
-      girl there in the blue gown was his girl&mdash;the one with the bouquet;
-      an' I used to call him silly. I chilled all the fun he hed outer him, an'
-      broken-speerited an' white-faced he drifted away from us, as far away as
-      them in the graveyard, with the same weary look as they hed in goin'.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;An' he took keer of much as a hundred cattle,&rdquo; said Silas; &ldquo;they has thet
-      meny I've heerd, in Texas?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;They has thousands; they loses hundreds by drought&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Wanter know?&rdquo; cried Silas, his imagination refusing to grasp such awful
-      loss.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Wal, I knowed Jim, an' he got mer-ried&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Merried!&rdquo; from both the old parents. &ldquo;He did. He says, 'I wunt write the
-      home-folks till I'm well off, for mother will worrit an' blame me, an' I
-      hain't money, but Minnie an' I love each other, an' are satisfied with
-      little.'&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Minnie,&rdquo; the mother repeated. &ldquo;Was she pretty?&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Woman all over you be, to ask thet, an' she was,&rdquo; said Brown, sadly;
-      &ldquo;with dark eyes, sorter wistful, an' hair like crinkled sunshine, an' a
-      laugh like a merry child, fur trouble slipped off her shoulders like water
-      off a duck's back.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;An' they got prosperous?&rdquo; asked Silas uneasily.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;They was happy,&rdquo; said Brown with gentle dignity; &ldquo;they was alius happy,
-      but they lived under a mortgage, an' it was drift from pillar to post, an'
-      ups an' downs.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;An' they're poor now,&rdquo; muttered Silas, visions of Jim and his family to
-      support coming to him.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Hush!&rdquo; cried Maria. &ldquo;Tell me, sir, was there children? Oh, the heart
-      hunger I've had for the sound of a child's voice, the touch of baby hands.
-      You an' me grandpa and grandma, Sile! an', my God! you think of money
-      now.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Set calm,&rdquo; pleaded Brown, &ldquo;for I must hev courage to tell ye all.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;An' they sent ye to tell us they was comin'?&rdquo; asked Silas, judging of
-      their prosperity from the shabby herald.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;They asked me to come, an' I swore it. There's a queer blight as creeps
-      inter our country, which without thet might be like everlasting Paradise.
-      Ourn is a land of summer an' flowers, but up here in this ice-bound
-      region, the air is like water in runnin' brooks, it puts life an' health
-      in ye.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;There's the blight o' consumption here. We're foreordained to suffer all
-      over this airth,&rdquo; muttered the woman.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;But there it comes in waves of trouble&mdash;in awful haste&mdash;an'
-      takes all at once, an' them that's well flees away and the sick dies
-      alone. So the yellow fever come creepin' inter my home, fur Minnie was my
-      child&mdash;the daughter I'd keered fur; an' fust the baby went from her
-      arms, an' then little Silas (arter you, sir). Then Minnie sickened, an'
-      her laugh is only an echo in my heart, for she died and was berried, the
-      baby in her arms, and Jim was took next&mdash;an' he says&rdquo; (only the
-      ticking of the clock sounded now, never so loud before): &ldquo;'I want you,
-      dad,' (he called me dad) 'to go to my old home in Maine. I want you to
-      tell my father I named my dead boy for him, and I thought of his frugal,
-      saving life with pain, and yet I am proud that his name is respected as
-      that of an honest man, whose word is his bond. I'll never go up the old
-      lane again,' says Jim, 'nor see mother standing in the door with her
-      bright eyes and red cheeks that I used to think was like winter apples.
-      And the old horse, she said she'd care for, I won't see him again, nor
-      hear the bells. In this land of summer I only long for winter, and dad, if
-      I could hear those hoarse old jolly bells I'd die in peace. Queer, ain't
-      it? And I remember some rides I took mother; she wan't afraid of the colt,
-      and looked so pretty, a white hood over her dark hair. You go, dad, and
-      say I was sorry, and I'd planned to come some day prosperous and happy,
-      but it's never to be. Tell mother to think of me when she goes a Sunday
-      afternoon to the buryin'-ground, as she used to with me, and by those
-      little graves I fek her mother's heart beat for me, her living child, and
-      I knew, though she said nothing, she cared for me.' He died tell-in' me
-      this, marm, an' was berried by my girl, an' I think it was meant kind they
-      went together, for both would a pined apart. So I've come all the way from
-      Texas, trampin' for weary months, for I was poor, to give you Jim's
-      words.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Dead! Jim dead!&rdquo; cried Silas, in a queer, dazed way. &ldquo;M'ri,&rdquo; querulously,
-      &ldquo;you alius sed he was so helthy!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      She went to him and laid her hand on his bowed head.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;An' we've saved an' scrimped an' pinched fur strangers, M'ri, fur there
-      ain't no Lowell to have the prop'ty, an' I meant it all fur Jim. When he
-      was to come back he'd find he was prosperous, an' he'd think how I tried
-      to make him so.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;The Lord don't mean all dark clouds in this life,&rdquo; said the stranger.
-      &ldquo;Out of that pestilence, that never touched her with its foul breath, came
-      a child, with Minnie's face and laugh, but Jim's own eyes&mdash;a bit of
-      mother an' father.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The old people were looking at him with painful eagerness, dwelling on his
-      every word.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;It was little May; named Maria, but we called her May for she was borned
-      three year ago in that month; a tiny wee thing, an' I stood by their
-      graves an' I hardened my heart. 'They drove her father out; they sha'n't
-      crush her young life,' I said. 'I'll keep her.' But I knowed I couldn't.
-      Poverty was grinding me, and with Jim's words directin' me, I brought her
-      here.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Brought her here!&rdquo; cried the poor woman.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Ay! She's a brave little lass, an' I told her to lie quiet in the basket
-      till I told her to come out, fur mebbe you wan't kind an' would send us
-      both out, but I found your hearts ready fur her&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      With one spring Maria reached the basket and flung open the lid,
-      disclosing a tiny child wrapped in a ragged shawl, sleeping peacefully in
-      her cramped bed, but with tears on her long lashes, as if the waiting had
-      tried her brave little soul.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Jest as gritty,&rdquo; said Brown, &ldquo;an' so good to mind; poor lass!&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Maria lifted her out, and the child woke up, but did not cry at the
-      strange face that smiled on her with such pathetic eagerness. &ldquo;Oh, the
-      kitty!&rdquo; cried May. &ldquo;I had a kitty once!&rdquo; That familiar household object
-      reconciled her at once. She ate the cake eagerly and drank the milk,
-      insisting on feeding the ham to the cat.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Him looks hungry,&rdquo; she said.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;We've all been starved!&rdquo; cried Maria, clasping the child to her heart.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Such a beautiful child, with her merry eyes and laugh and her golden
-      curls, a strange blossom from a New England soil, yet part of her
-      birthright was the land of flowers and sunshine. Somehow that pathetic
-      picture of the past faded when the mother saw a blue and gilt vase in the
-      baby's hand&mdash;Jim's baby's.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;It's pitty; fank you!&rdquo; said the little creature. Then she got down to
-      show her new dress and her shoes, and made excursions into the pantry,
-      opening cupboard doors, but touching nothing, only exclaiming, &ldquo;Dear me,
-      how pitty!&rdquo; at everything. Then she came back, and at Brown's request,
-      with intense gravity, began a Spanish dance she had learned when they
-      stopped at San Antonio, from watching the Mexican senoritas. She held up
-      her little gown on one side and gravely made her steps while Dexter
-      whistled. The fire leaped up and crackled loudly, as if it would join her,
-      the cat purred, the tea-kettle sung from the back of the stove, and little
-      snowflakes, themselves hurrying, skurrying in a merry dance, clung to the
-      win dow-pane and called other little flakes to hasten and see such a
-      pretty sight. Maria watched in breathless eagerness, and Silas, carried
-      beyond himself, forgetting his scruples, cried out: &ldquo;Wal, ef that don't
-      beat all I ever see! Come here, you little chick!&rdquo; holding out his silver
-      watch.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      With a final pirouette she finished with a grave little courtesy, then ran
-      to Silas: &ldquo;Is there birdie in der?&rdquo; and he caught her up and kissed her.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      When the old lane is shady in summertime, and golden-rod and daisies crowd
-      the way, and raspberries climb the stonewall, and merry squirrels chatter
-      and mock the red-breasted robins, and bees go humming through the ordorous
-      air, there comes a big white horse that looks like Washington's in the
-      picture; and how carefully he walks and bears himself, for he brings a
-      little princess who has made the old house a home. Such a fairylike little
-      thing, who from her sunshine makes everybody bright and happy, and Silas'
-      grim old face is smiling as he leads the horse, and Maria, with her basket
-      of berries, is helped over the wall by Dexter Brown, who always says he
-      must go but never does, for they love him, and he and Silas work
-      harmoniously together. And grandma's eyes are brighter than ever and her
-      cheeks as red.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What comfortable folks they air gittin' to be,&rdquo; say the neighbors,
-      &ldquo;kinder livin', but I dunno but goin' a berryin' a hull arternoon is right
-      down shiftless.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Winter is over and forever gone from that household on the hill; the
-      coming of gracious, smiling spring in a sweet child's presence has made
-      eternal sunshine in those ice-bound hearts.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0070" id="linkimage-0070"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:15%;">
-      <img src="images/5359.jpg" alt="5359 " width="100%" /><br /><a
-      href="images/5359.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </div>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0071" id="linkimage-0071"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
-      <img src="images/0360.jpg" alt="0360 " width="100%" /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h5>
-      <a href="images/0360.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </h5>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br />
-    </p>
-    <hr />
-    <p>
-      <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div style="height: 4em;">
-      <br /><br /><br /><br />
-    </div>
-    <h2>
-      CYNTHY'S JOE, By Clara Sprague Ross
-    </h2>
-    <p class="pfirst">
-      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> DON'T think he'll
-      be sech a fool as to p'int fer home the fust thing he does.&rdquo; The speaker,
-      a young man with a dull, coarse face and slouching air, knocked the ashes
-      from a half-smoked cigar with his little finger, which was heavily
-      ornamented with a large seal ring, and adjusted himself to a more
-      comfortable position.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I dun'no which p'int o' the compass he'd more naterally turn to,&rdquo;
-       observed another; an elderly man with a stoop in his shoulders, and a
-      sharp, thin face that with all its petty shrewdness was not without its
-      compensating feature&mdash;a large and kindly mouth. The third man in the
-      little group was slowly walking back and forth on the platform that ran
-      across the station, rolling and unrolling a small red flag which he held
-      in his hands. He turned with a contemptuous &ldquo;umph&rdquo; to the young man,
-      remarking as he did so, &ldquo;'Tain't mostly fools as goes to prison. Joe
-      Atherton prob'ly has as many friends in this section o' the kentry as some
-      who hain't been away so much.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Joe was a good little boy,&rdquo; pursued the old station-master; &ldquo;he wuz
-      allers kind to his mother. I never heard a word ag'in him till that city
-      swell came down here fer the summer and raised blazes with the boy.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;If there ain't the Squire!&rdquo; exclaimed a hitherto silent member; &ldquo;he's the
-      last man as I should jedge would come to the deepo to welcome Joe
-      Atherton.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      A stout, florid, pompous individual slowdy mounted the platform steps,
-      wiping his forehead with a flaming red silk handkerchief, which he had
-      taken from his well-worn straw hat. &ldquo;Warm afternoon, friends,&rdquo; he
-      suggested, with an air of having vastly contributed to the information of
-      the men, whose only apparent concern in life was an anxiety to find a
-      shady corner within conversational distance of each other.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      The Squire seated himself in the only chair of which the forlorn station
-      boasted; he leaned back until his head was conveniently supported, and
-      furtively glanced at a large old-fashioned watch which he drew from his
-      vest pocket.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Train's late this a'ternoon, Squar',&rdquo; said the man with the red flag. &ldquo;I
-      reckon ye'll all hev to go home without seein' the show; 'tain't no ways
-      sartin Joe'll come to-day. Parson Mayhew sed his time was up the fust week
-      in September, but there's no tellin' the day as I knows on.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      A sustained, heavy rumble sounded in the distance. Each man straightened
-      himself and turned his head to catch the first glimpse of the approaching
-      engine, With a shriek and only a just perceptible lessening of its speed,
-      the mighty train rushed by them without stopping, and was out of sight
-      before the eager watchers regained the power of speech.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Five minutes later the red flag was in its place behind the door, its
-      keeper turned the key and hastened to overtake his neighbor, who had
-      reached the highway. Hearing the hurrying footsteps behind him, the man
-      turned, saying triumphantly, &ldquo;I'm right-down, glad he didn't come.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;So be I; there's an express late this evenin' that might bring him down.
-      I shall be here if Louisy's so as I kin leave her.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Wa'al,&rdquo; returned the other, &ldquo;I shan't be over ag'in to-night, but you
-      jest tell Joe, fer me, to come right ta my house; he's welcome. Whatever
-      he done as a boy, he's atoned fer in twenty years. I remember jest how
-      white and sot his face was the day they took him away; he was only a boy
-      then, he's a man now, gray-headed most likely; the Athertons turned gray
-      early, and sorrow and sin are terrible helps to white hair.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The old man's voice faltered a little; he drew the back of his hard, brown
-      hand across his eyes. Something that neither of the men could have defined
-      prompted them to shake hands at the &ldquo;Corners&rdquo;; they did so silently, and
-      without looking up.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Joe came that night. The moon and the stars were the silent and only
-      witnesses of the convict's return. It was just as Joe had hoped it might
-      be; yet there was in the man's soul an awful sense of his loneliness and
-      isolation The eager, wistful light faded out of his large blue eyes, the
-      lines about his firm, tightly-drawn mouth deepened, the whole man took on
-      an air of sullen defiance. Nobody cared for him, why should he care? He
-      wondered if &ldquo;Uncle Aaron,&rdquo; as the boys used to call him, still kept the
-      old station and signaled the trains. Alas! it was one of &ldquo;Louisy's&rdquo; bad
-      nights; her husband could not leave her, and so Joe missed forever the
-      cordial hand old Aaron would have offered him, and the kind message he was
-      to give him, for his neighbor.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Sadly, wearily, Joe turned and walked toward the road, lying white and
-      still in the moonlight. His head dropped lower and lower upon his breast;
-      without lifting it he put out his hand, at length, and raised the latch of
-      a dilapidated gate that opened into a deep, weed-entangled yard. His heart
-      was throbbing wildly, a fierce, hot pain shot through his eyes. Could he
-      ever look up? He knew the light of the home he was seeking had gone out in
-      darkness years before. The only love in the world that would have met him
-      without question or reproach was silent forever; but here was her home&mdash;his
-      home once&mdash;the little white house with its green blinds and shady
-      porch.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      He must look up or his heart would burst. With a cry that rang loud and
-      clear on the quiet night, he fell upon his face, his fingers clutching and
-      tearing the long, coarse grass. There was no house&mdash;no home&mdash;only
-      a mass of blackened timbers, a pile of ashes, the angle of a tumbling
-      wall. Hardly knowing what he did, Joe crept into the shelter of the old
-      stone wall. With his face buried in his hands he lived over again, in one
-      short half-hour, the life he hoped he had put away when the prison doors
-      closed behind him. All through the day there had struggled in his heart a
-      faint, unreasoning faith that life might yet hold something fair for him;
-      one ray of comfort, one word of kindness, and faith would have become a
-      reality. As the man, at last lifted his pale, agonized face to the
-      glittering sky above him he uttered no word of prayer or entreaty, but
-      with the studied self-control that years of repression had taught him, he
-      rose from the ground and walked slowly out of the yard and down the
-      cheerless road again to the station. Life hereafter could mean nothing to
-      him but a silent moving-on. Whenever or wherever he became known, men
-      would shrink and turn away from him. There was no abiding-place, no home,
-      no love for him in all God's mighty world. He accepted the facts; there
-      was only one relief&mdash;somewhere, some time, a narrow bed would open
-      for him and the green sod would shelter the man and his sin till eternity.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      He hastily plucked a bit of golden-rod that nodded by the roadside; then
-      taking a small, ragged book from a pocket just over his heart, he opened
-      it and put the yellow spray between the leaves. As he did so a bit of
-      paper fluttered to the ground. Joe stooped and picked it up. It was a
-      letter he had promised to deliver from a fellow-prisoner to his mother in
-      a distant town.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Not very far away an engine whistled at a crossing. A slowly moving
-      freight and accommodation train pulled up at the depot a few moments
-      later. Joe entered the dark, ill-smelling car at the rear and turned his
-      face once more to the world.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      It was in the early twilight of the next evening that Joe found himself in
-      the hurry and confusion of a large manufacturing town. As he passed from
-      the great depot into the brilliantly lighted street, he was bewildered for
-      a moment and stood irresolute, with his hand shading his eyes. At one
-      corner of the park that lay between the station and the next street, a man
-      with a Punch-and-Judy theatre had drawn around him a crowd of men, women,
-      and children. Joe mechanically directed his steps that way, and
-      unconsciously became a part of the swaying, laughing audience.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Hold me up once more, do Mariar, I can't see nothin',&rdquo; begged a piping,
-      childish voice at Joe's knee.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I can't, Cynthy; my arms is most broke now holdin' of ye; ef you don't
-      stop teasin' I'll never take ye nowheres again,&rdquo; replied a tall, handsome
-      girl, to whom the child was clinging.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Joe bent without a word, and picking up the small, ill-shaped morsel of
-      human longing and curiosity, swung her upon his broad shoulder, where she
-      sat watching the tiny puppets and listening to their shrill cries,
-      oblivious of all else in the world. Once she looked down into the man's
-      face with her great, dark, fiery eyes and said softly, &ldquo;Oh, how good you
-      are!&rdquo; A shiver ran through Joe's frame; these were the first words that
-      had been addressed to him since he said good-bye to the warden in that
-      dreary corridor, which for this one moment had been forgotten. The little
-      girl, without turning her eyes from the dancing figures before her, put
-      one arm about Joe's neck and nestled a little closer to him. Joe could
-      have stood forever. The tall, dark girl, however, had missed Cynthy's
-      tiresome pulling at her skirts and the whining voice. She looked anxiously
-      about and called &ldquo;Cynthy! Cynthy! where are you? I'll be thankful if ever
-      I gets you back to your grandmother.&rdquo; The fretful words aroused Joe from
-      his happy reverie; he hurriedly placed the child on the pavement, and in
-      an instant was lost in the crowd.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      He set out upon his quest the following morning and had no difficulty in
-      finding the old woman he was seeking. At one of a dozen doors marking as
-      many divisions of a long, low tenement building near the river, he had
-      knocked, and the door had opened into a small, clean kitchen, where a
-      bright fire burned in a tiny stove, and a row of scarlet geraniums in pots
-      ornamented the front window. The woman who admitted him he recognized at
-      once as the mother of the man in that far-away prison, whose last
-      hold-upon love and goodness was the remembrance of the aged, wrinkled face
-      so wonderfully like his own. In a corner behind the door there stood an
-      old-fashioned trundle-bed. As Joe stepped into the room a child, perhaps
-      ten years old, started up from it, exclaiming &ldquo;That's the man, Granny; the
-      man who put me on his shoulder, when Mariar was cross. Come in! come in,
-      man,&rdquo; she urged.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;Be still, Cynthy,&rdquo; retorted the grandmother, not unkindly, as she placed
-      a chair for Joe, who was walking over to the little bed from which the
-      child was evidently not able to rise alone. Two frail hands were
-      outstretched to him, two great black eyes were raised to his full of
-      unspoken gratitude. Joe took the soiled letter from its hiding-place and
-      gave it to the woman without a word. She glanced at the scarcely legible
-      characters, and went into an adjoining room, her impassive face working
-      convulsively.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;What's the matter with Granny, was she crying? I never seen her cry
-      before,&rdquo; said Cynthy. &ldquo;Granny's had heaps o' trouble. I'm all thet's left
-      of ten children and a half-dozen grandchildren. She says I'm the poorest
-      of the lot, too, with the big bone thet's grow'd out on my back; it aches
-      orful nights, and makes my feet so tired and shaky mornin's. Granny's kind
-      o' queer; some days she just sets and looks into the fire fer hours
-      without speakin', and it's so still I kin a'most hear my heart beat; and I
-      think, and think, and never speak, neither, till Granny comes back and
-      leans over me and kisses me; then it's all right ag'in, an' Granny makes a
-      cup o' tea an' a bite o' toast and the sun comes in the winder, and I
-      forget 'bout the pain, an' go out with Mariar, when she'll take me, like I
-      did last night.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      The child's white, pinched features flushed feverishly, her solemn, dusky
-      eyes burned like coals. She had been resting her chin in her hands, and
-      gazing up into Joe's face with a fascinated intensity. She fell back
-      wearily upon the pillows as the door opened, and her grandmother returned
-      and put her hand on Joe's shoulder, saying brokenly, &ldquo;You've been very
-      kind.&rdquo; The little clock on the shelf over the kitchen table ticked
-      merrily, and the tea-kettle hummed, as if it would drown the ticking,
-      while Joe and Cynthy's grandmother discussed and planned for the future.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      It was finally settled that Joe should look for work in Danvers, and if he
-      found it, his home should be with the old woman and Cynthy. He did not try
-      to express the joy that surged over and through his heart, that rushed up
-      into his brain, until his head was one mad whirl; but with a firm, quick
-      step and a brave, calm look on his strong face, he went out to take his
-      place in the busy, struggling world&mdash;a man among men.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Two months passed; months of toil, of anxiety, sometimes of fear; but Joe
-      was so gladdened and comforted by Cynthy's childish love and confidence,
-      that, little by little, he came out of the shadow that had threatened to
-      blacken his life, into the sunshine and peace of a homely,
-      self-sacrificing existence in &ldquo;Riverside Row.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      Cynthy's ideas of heaven were very vague, and not always satisfactory,
-      even to herself, but she often wondered, since Joe came, if heaven ever
-      began here and she was not tasting some of its minor delights. Of course,
-      she did not put it in just this way; but Cynthy's heaven was a place where
-      children walked and were never tired, where above all things they wore
-      pretty clothes and had everything that was denied them on earth. Joe had
-      realized so many of the child's wild dreams, had made possible so many
-      longed-for or unattainable pleasures, had so brightened and changed her
-      weary, painful life, that to Cynthy's eyes there was always about his head
-      a halo as in the pictures of Granny's saints; goodness, kindness,
-      generosity&mdash;love, were for her spelled with three letters, and read&mdash;Joe.
-      Out of the hard-earned wages the man put into Granny's hand every Saturday
-      night, there was always a little reserved for Cynthy. Her grandmother
-      sometimes fretted or occasionally remonstrated; but Joe was firm. Alas!
-      human life, like the never-resting earth, of which it is a part, swings
-      out of the sunlight into the shadow, out of the daytime into the darkness
-      through which the moon and the stars do not always shine.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      One night, a bitter, stormy night in November, he was a little late in
-      leaving his work. He had to pass, on his way out of the building, a knot
-      of men who were talking in suppressed voices. They did not ask him to join
-      them, but the words &ldquo;prison-scab,&rdquo; &ldquo;jail-bird&rdquo;, fell on his ever-alert
-      ear. With a shudder he hurried on.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Granny was stooping over the trundle-bed in a vain attempt to quiet the
-      child, who was tossing upon it, in pain and delirium. Cynthy had slipped
-      upon a piece of ice a few days before, and now she was never free from the
-      torturing, burning pain in her back. Sometimes it was in her head, too,
-      and then with shrill, harsh cries, she begged for Joe, until Granny
-      thanked God when the factory-whistle blew and she heard the man's quick,
-      short step on the pavement. Joe warmed himself at the fire for a moment,
-      then taking Cynthy in his tired arms, he walked slowly up and down the
-      room. Through the long, dreary night he patiently carried the moaning
-      child. If he attempted, never so carefully, to lay her down, she clung to
-      him so wildly or cried so wearily that Joe could only soothe her and take
-      lip the tiresome march again. Granny, thoroughly worn out, sat sleeping in
-      her large chair. Cynthy grew more restless. Once she nearly sprang from
-      Joe's arms, screaming, &ldquo;Go way, Mariar; you're a hateful thing! I won't
-      listen; 'tain't true; Joe is good,&rdquo; and dropping back heavily, she
-      whispered, &ldquo;I love you, Joe.&rdquo; She knew, then! Joe thought his heart would
-      never throb again.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      He listened for the early morning whistles. One by one they sounded on the
-      clear, keen air, but never the one for which he waited. As soon as it was
-      light, he peered through the ice-covered window at the tall chimneys just
-      beyond the &ldquo;Row.&rdquo; They rose grim and silent, but no smoke issued from
-      them. The end had come. Joe knew a strike was on.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      Sometime in the afternoon of that day Cynthy suffered herself to be placed
-      on the small, white bed; but she was not willing Joe should leave her, and
-      was quiet only when he held her feeble hand in his close grasp. No sound
-      escaped the man's white lips. Only God and the angels watched his struggle
-      with the powers of darkness. As night came on again, Cynthy sank into a
-      heavy sleep, and Joe, released, took his hat and went out very softly.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      He stopped after a long walk at the massive doors of a &ldquo;West End&rdquo; palace.
-      He followed with downcast eyes the servant who answered his ring into a
-      small but elegant reception-room, where he was told he might wait for the
-      master of the house, the owner of the large manufactory where he was
-      employed. Into the patient ear of this man, whom he had never seen before,
-      Joe poured the story of his life. The sin, the shame, the agony of
-      despair, his salvation through Cynthy.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      &ldquo;I will call my son,&rdquo; said the sympathizing old gentleman as Joe rose to
-      go; &ldquo;he is one of Danvers' best physicians. He will go with you and see
-      what can be done for the little girl.&rdquo;
-     </p>
-    <p>
-      An hour later the two men were bending over the sick child. &ldquo;She is very
-      ill,&rdquo; said the young doctor, in reply ta Joe's mute, appealing face. &ldquo;This
-      stupor may end in death, or it may result in a sleep which will bring
-      relief. You must be brave, my friend. A few hours to-night will decide.
-      You may hope.&rdquo; Joe's weary limbs faltered beneath him. He fell upon his
-      knees breathing a wordless prayer that the child might be spared to bless
-      and comfort hi&amp; lonely, aching heart; while all unseen the Angel of
-      Life hovered over the little bed.
-    </p>
-    <p>
-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0072" id="linkimage-0072"> </a>
-    </p>
-    <div class="fig" style="width:15%;">
-      <img src="images/5372.jpg" alt="5372 " width="100%" /><br /><a
-      href="images/5372.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
-    </div>
-    <div style="height: 6em;">
-      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
-    </div>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
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-</pre>
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@@ -1,8900 +0,0 @@
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rancho Del Muerto, by Charles King and Various
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-
-
-Title: Rancho Del Muerto
-       and Other Stories of Adventure from "Outing" by Various Authors
-
-Author: Charles King
-        Various
-
-Release Date: May 1, 2016 [EBook #51919]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ASCII
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RANCHO DEL MUERTO ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by David Widger from page images generously
-provided by the Internet Archive
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-RANCHO DEL MUERTO
-
-By Charles King, Capt. U. S. Army.
-
-And Other Stories of Adventure by Various Authors
-
-From "Outing" (Illustrated)
-
-The Outing Publishing Company,
-
-New York And London
-
-
-[Illustration: 0001]
-
-
-[Illustration: 0007]
-
-
-
-
-RANCHO DEL MUERTO, By Charles King, Capt. U. S. Army.
-
-
-FIRST PART
-
-[Illustration: 9013]
-
-O denying it--there was something uncanny about the place at the very
-first glance. The paymaster admitted that to himself as his ambulance
-slowly drove in, and his escort of half a dozen troopers came clattering
-after. It was his first visit to the spot, and he shrugged his broad
-shoulders and murmured a word of caution to the silent clerk who sat
-beside him:
-
-[Illustration: 0015]
-
-[Illustration: 0016]
-
-"I want you to keep eyes and ears open here, Staines. We've got to make
-a night of it. You remember that this is where Sergeant Dinsmore was
-murdered, and I've heard nothing but bad accounts of the people for the
-last six months."
-
-Mr. Staines was apparently a man who wasted no words. Acquiescence with
-him may have been expressed by silence. At all events he made no reply.
-
-"Were you ever at the ranch before, when you made the trips with Colonel
-Forte?" asked the paymaster.
-
-"No, sir, it's--all strange to me hereabouts."
-
-"How far are we from Canyon del Muerto now, sergeant?" asked the
-officer of the bearded trooper who rode close alongside.
-
-"Sixteen miles, sir, on a bee line, but at least twenty by the road.
-We're off the direct trail now. We could have got through the canyon and
-reached the camp before this if that mule hadn't gone lame."
-
-"Major," said Staines in a low tone, "I can get a saddle horse or mule
-here, no doubt. Had I not better ride right on? I can reach Captain
-Rawlins' camp by 9 or 10 o'clock. He will be mighty anxious at your
-non-arrival."
-
-"I was thinking of sending one man ahead; I don't like to let you go. It
-will wear you out for to-morrow's work."
-
-"Indeed it won't, sir; I'm feeling fresh enough, and the change from
-wagon to saddle will just suit me. I think I'd better go." And there was
-an eager look in Staines' clear-cut face.
-
-"I'll think about it" was the dubious answer. "These cavalry men are the
-proper ones to send, not a paymaster's clerk. If anything befell you on
-the route I would be crippled in making payments."
-
-"Nothing would be apt to befall me, sir; I know that road well."
-
-"I thought you said all was strange to you hereabouts" said the
-paymaster quickly. But the clerk showed no discomfiture.
-
-"I said here, around the ranch. The direct road lies off there nearly
-nine miles to the southwest, sir. That is the one we always took going
-to Tucson."
-
-The paymaster relapsed into silence. It is all very well to have
-subordinates who know far more than does the senior officer, yet the
-latter does not always find it agreeable. His own clerk having resigned
-some six months previous and returned to the East, when Major Sherrick
-was ordered from San Francisco to Arizona he had employed Mr. Staines at
-the urgent request of the officer whom he relieved. Staines had property
-interests in the Territory, he was told, and wanted to remain. He was a
-man profoundly versed in his duties; accurate, temperate, reliable and
-of unimpeachable character, said his recommenders. Sherrick was glad
-to get him, for he himself had no head for figures, and had been made a
-paymaster from civil life simply because his uncle the Senator found him
-a failure in every other capacity, and demanded the appointment of an
-Executive who could not deny him, though he felt like kicking himself
-when he looked at the long list of grizzled, war-tried captains who were
-wistful applicants for the longed-for promotion.
-
-A tall Mexican stepped forward with much urbanity and grace of manner to
-assist the paymaster to alight as the ambulance stopped in front of the
-ranch, and Major Sherrick looked with emotions of surprise upon Pedro
-Ruiz, the proprietor.
-
-"You don't mean to say that's the scoundrel we heard so much bad
-talk about at headquarters?" he whispered to Staines at the first
-opportunity.
-
-"The very same, sir; the most accomplished cutthroat in Arizona, if we
-can believe our senses and disregard evidence."
-
-"Where are his men? He seems alone here, all but that old greaser
-yonder."
-
-"Dios sabe," answered the clerk briefly, though his eyes glanced quickly
-away toward the purpling range to the south. "But we shall need our
-guards every moment we are here, sir, that's certain." An hour later
-night had settled down upon the broad valley, black and forbidding. All
-day long the wind had been sighing about the corral, whirling clouds of
-dust from the loose, sandy soil and sifting it in through many a chink
-and crevice over the floor of Pedro's ranch. The great ranges to the
-northwest, the Sierras to the south, were whitecapped at their lofty
-summits, but all over the arid miles of surrounding desert the sun had
-been hotly blazing from noon to the dewless eve, and not until it sank
-behind the western wave did the wind sweep down untempered. Through its
-shallow bed the Gila rolled, a lazy, turbid current, not a rifle shot
-away. Quicksands and muddy pools flanked its course for miles and barred
-all attempts at crossing except at the point where thrifty Pedro had
-"corduroyed" the flats with boards that had formerly done duty at the
-agency building, and, having originally cost the paternal Government
-something in the neighborhood of $1 apiece, had now come down to the
-base uses of daily trampling under foot. The stage to the Gripsack
-Mines, the huge ox teams and triple-hitched wagons, the nimble pack
-mules, even the buckboard with the United States mail, paid reluctant
-tribute into Pedro's dingy palm, though the owners mentally damned him
-for a thief.
-
-Everybody in that part of Arizona well knew that in the unprecedented
-rise of the Gila, a few years back, two of the agency storehouses had
-been floated away down the stream, accompanied by a dense flotilla of
-joists, scantling and clapboards, which had been piled up on the river
-bank after weeks of laborious transportation from Plummer's saw mill in
-the San Gabriel. So, too, had sundry casks of bacon, barrels of beans
-and bales of Indian goods; and while portions of this flood-swept
-assortment were found stranded and scattered along the winding shores
-as far down as Pedro's bailiwick, not so much as a solitary shingle had
-passed beyond, and the laws of flotsam and jetsam had received at the
-hands of this shrewd "greaser" their most liberal construction. More
-than once had the Federal authorities been compelled to proceed to
-stringent measures with Pedro and arraign him before a jury of his peers
-on charges of having robbed and defrauded the General Government,
-and more than once with prompt and cheering unanimity had the jury
-pronounced him not guilty, a service which he never failed to requite in
-kind when Garcia, Gomez or Sancho came up for his turn. And now the old
-Mexican was proprietor of a goodly ranch, built mainly of adobe, it is
-true, as were his roomy corrals and storehouses, yet roofed, floored,
-partitioned, doored and menu for either breakfast, dinner or supper, at
-a charge of $1 a head for any and all travelers who sought to appease
-their appetite at his table. He kept a bar, too, and dealt out
-villainous "tanglefoot" and windowed, too, by the unwilling
-contributions wrung from Uncle Sam.
-
-For three years he had furnished bacon, _frijoles_ and fried eggs, the
-unvarying fiery mescal to such stomachs as could stand the onslaught
-and the tax of two bits a thimbleful. He ran a "brace game" of monte
-whenever the packers were drunk or strangers fool enough to play. He was
-a thorough-paced rascal in the opinion of every "gringo" who passed that
-way, and a man of unimpeachable character according to all records
-in the case. He was a "greaser" of whom everything had been said and
-nothing proved; that is, to the satisfaction of an old-time Arizona
-jury. But Mr. Whitlock, the new United States District Attorney, was
-said to be "laying" for Pedro, and between those who knew them both and
-were aware of the possibilities of finding twelve better men and truer
-outside of Maricopa County, bets were even as to the result.
-
-[Illustration: 0021]
-
-"Just let me get that thieving greaser across the line into Yavapai,"
-said a local luminary, "and I'll find a jury that will hang him on
-sight or lynch him on general principles." But Pedro knew better than to
-venture northward along the tempting shores of the Hassayampa. Even the
-chance of collecting a bad debt from a fellow countryman, known to
-be lurking in Wickenburg, failed to lure Pedro thither. He smiled
-suggestively, showing his white teeth and waving aside the blue smoke of
-his cigarrito with sinewy brown hand. "A--Wickenburg is too damn close
-to Yavapai, and Yavapai to 'ell," he remarked. And it had more than once
-been said of Pedro that he spoke English like a native.
-
-"Rancho Ruiz" was the sonorous and pretentious title he had bestowed
-upon the establishment to which the winding Arizona roadway led.
-"Cutthroat Crossing" was what the soldiers and placer miners had called
-this half ferry, half ford of Pedro's ever since the body of young
-Sergeant Dinsmore had been found stranded on a sand bar of the Gila two
-miles below,' his neck and his money belt slashed by the same knife.
-Going into Yuma with well-lined pockets, Dinsmore had been warned to
-make no stay among the gang of monte players always hovering about
-Pedro's. But he had been a bold and successful gambler at Tucson. He
-had nothing but contempt for Mexican bravos and confidence in his own
-prowess as a shot. The card table had attractions he could not well
-resist, but the ranch had still another--Pedro's daughter.
-
-Now it was when he was sent thither with a squad of a dozen troopers,
-hunting up the missing sergeant, that Lieutenant Adriance caught
-sight of this siren of a senorita. She could not have been more than
-seventeen, and her mother would have denied her even that number of
-years. "She is a mere child," protested Senora Dolores, when the subject
-was mentioned. Pedro had moved up from Sonora only a few years before,
-and had lived a while at the old Mexico-Spanish town of Tucson, whither,
-ere long, there came unflattering tales as to the cause of his change
-of residence. He had money, and that in Arizona covered more sins than
-charity. The boundary line lay conveniently near. Extradition was an
-unpracticed art in the days whereof we write. Apaches of the mountains
-and assassins of the mines found equal refuge across the border, and in
-exchange we received such choice spirits as proved too tough for even
-a Mexican town to tolerate. Of such was Pedro; but no one to look at
-Pedro's daughter would have called her a felon's child.
-
-The night that Adriance reached the rancho on the search just mentioned
-he had purposely left his little escort some distance up the Gila, and
-advanced alone to reconnoitre. It was a perfectly still evening, soft
-and starry. The hoofs of his broncho made no sound upon the sandy waste
-of road, and not even the dogs about the corral seemed aware of his
-coming. Adriance had thrice visited the ranch before, when returning
-from scout or pursuit of Apaches, and never once had he been greeted by
-feminine voice about the premises. It was with no little surprise, then,
-that he heard the tinkle of a guitar and the sound of low, soft, girlish
-tones singing a plaintive melody. He had heard many a Mexican ditty,
-and had pronounced the singers twangy, shrill and nasal; but this was
-different. He had come to Rancho Ruiz with every expectation of finding
-evidence of the murder of one of his most valued troopers, and here, on
-the instant of his arrival, was disarmed by a song. East of the ranch
-there stood a little lattice-work structure, something after the manner
-of a summer house, and from thence the sounds proceeded. The lieutenant
-leaped from his horse and strode to the entrance, wondering what
-manner of woman he should find beyond. There was not light enough to
-distinguish either form or feature, but over in the farther corner was
-a shadowy something in white. The song continued but a moment before
-the singer became aware of the equally shadowy form at the entrance, and
-stopped abruptly.
-
-"Leon!" spoke a girlish voice in the Spanish tongue, "you frightened me.
-Is that you?"
-
-"I am Felipe, otherwise Phil. Adriance, of the American Cavalry,
-senorita, and far more surprised than you are at seeing me."
-
-The girl started to her feet as though flight was her first impulse,
-then hesitated. Did not the "Senor Teniente" bar the way in merely
-standing in the entrance?
-
-"Do not be alarmed, I beg of you," implored the young officer, "it is so
-long since I have heard a song in a woman's voice. It is such a surprise
-to hear one now. Do sing for me again. I will have to stand here where I
-can hold my horse."
-
-For a moment she was silent, then: "You have been to the rancho? You
-have seen my father?" she asked at length, her voice tremulous and
-almost inaudible.
-
-"I? No, I have just come; I am alone, and heard your song and forgot
-everything else."
-
-To his surprise she came hurriedly forward out of the dusk, and stood
-close to his side, looking fearfully over toward the night lights at the
-bar, whence the sounds of Mexican voices could be heard.
-
-"Alone? You came here alone? O senor, ride on or ride back. Stay not
-here! Not at the rancho! There are wicked men--not my father; not Pedro
-Ruiz, but--there are others."
-
-"Is this true? Are you Pedro's daughter?" queried the lieutenant,
-evidently far more impressed with this fact than with her tidings. "I
-never knew he had a child like you, and I have been here often and have
-never seen you."
-
-"But I--have seen you, senor, when you were last here, and I saw you,
-too, at the _cuartel_ at Tucson. Do you know--do you remember the day of
-the race?" And her dark eyes were for one instant lifted timidly to his.
-
-"Is this possible?" he exclaimed, seizing her hand as it fell listlessly
-by her side. "Let me see your face. Surely I have heard your voice
-before." But she shrank back, half timid, half capricious.
-
-"I must not; I must go, senor, and you--you must ride away."
-
-And now her eyes glanced half fearfully toward the house, then sought
-his face in genuine anxiety. He had been fumbling in the pocket of his
-hunting shirt, and suddenly drew forth a little silver case. The next
-instant, while he held her wrist firmly with one hand, the brilliant
-flame of an electric match flashed over her face and form.
-
-[Illustration: 0027]
-
-"Oh, senor," she cried, even when bowing her blushing face upon her
-bared arm, "this is madness! Put it out!" Then, like a frightened deer,
-she went bounding to the ranch, but not before he had recognized in her
-the pretty Mexican girl with whom he had thrice danced at the _festa_
-at Tucson and whose name he had vainly sought to learn. Nor did he again
-see her on this visit. Nor did he hear again her voice. Returning with
-his men at dawn, he began the day's investigations and had occasion
-to ask many questions of old Pedro, who promptly answered that he well
-remembered the sergeant and that the sergeant had drunk at his bar; had
-partaken of his cheer; had stabled his horse at the corral; but that,
-after gambling with "los otros," men of whom he, Pedro, knew naught, the
-sergeant had gone on his way. More he could not tell. He shrugged his
-shoulders and protested his ignorance even of the names of the men with
-whom Dinsmore had gambled.
-
-"You enter my house, Senor Teniente. You ask for food, for drink. You
-pay. You go. Ask I you your name--your home? No! Should I demand it of
-any caballero who so come and go?"
-
-And failing in extracting information from the master, Adriance sought
-the hirelings and found them equally reticent. Shrewd frontiersmen and
-campaigners in his little detachment were equally unsuccessful until
-nearly night, when a brace of prospectors rode in and said they saw what
-looked to be a human body over on a sand bar down the Gila. Then Pedro's
-face had turned ashen gray, and one of his henchmen trembled violently.
-
-Poor Dinsmore was given such soldier burial as his comrades could
-devise, and Pedro, of his own accord, and with much reverential gravity
-of mien, had graced the ceremony with his presence.
-
-Every man of the cavalry detachment felt morally certain that Pedro Ruiz
-knew far more than he would tell, but there was no way in which they
-could proceed farther, and civil process was ineffectual in those days
-except in the court of final jurisdiction of which Judge Lynch was sole
-presiding officer.
-
-Adriance rode away with a distinct sense of discomfiture at heart. What
-business had he to feel baffled and chagrined at his failure to see
-that girl again when the original object of his mission had been the
-discovery of Dinsmore's fate? What right had he to wish to speak with
-the daughter of the man whom he believed an accessory to the sergeant's
-murder? "Do not let them know you have seen me" she had whispered ere
-she scurried away to the ranch, and as neither mother nor daughter
-once appeared during the presence of his escort about the corral, there
-seemed no way in which he could open the subject.
-
-Six months passed, during which period he had been sent to Tucson
-on escort duty, and while there had sought and found some well-to-do
-Mexican residents whom he remembered as being friends of the graceful
-girl who had danced so delightfully with him at the _baile_ only the
-year before. From them he learned her name, Isabel, and something of her
-history. And the very next scout down the Gila found him in command and
-eager to go, and this very night, black and forbidding, that had settled
-down on Rancho Ruiz after the arrival of Paymaster Sherrick and his
-train, who should come riding noiselessly through the gloaming but
-Lieutenant Adriance himself, as before, all alone.
-
-Nearing the lights of the rancho and moving at slow and cautious walk,
-his ears alert for every sound, the lieutenant became aware of the fact
-that Roderick, his pet horse, was pricking up his own ears and showing
-vast interest in some mysterious and unseen presence which they were
-steadily approaching. Before he had got within two hundred yards of
-the dim light of the house he caught sight of a lantern or two flitting
-about the corral. Then Roderick quickened his nimble walk and began
-edging off to the right front, where presently, against the low western
-sky, Adriance could distinguish some object like a big covered wagon,
-and plainly heard the pawing and snorting of a horse. Roderick evidently
-wanted to answer, but the lieutenant reined him abruptly to the left,
-and veered away southward.
-
-Just now it was not the society of his fellow men he sought. A woman's
-voice, one woman's at least, would have called him eagerly forward from
-the darkness into the light of her waiting eyes. As it was, he made
-wide circuit, and not until well to the south did he again approach
-the silent walls of the corral. And now the wind, blowing toward him,
-brought with it the sound of voices, and Adriance was suddenly warned
-that someone was here, close at hand. Dismounting, the lieutenant slowly
-led his horse toward the dark barrier before him, but not until he had
-softly traversed the length of the southern wall did he become aware
-of other voices, low toned and eager. Around the corner, on the western
-side, the dark forms of a horseman and someone afoot were dimly defined,
-then a brief conversation became audible:
-
-[Illustration: 0031]
-
-[Illustration: 0019]
-
-"You have no time to lose, Leon. Go softly until you are a mile away,
-then ride like hell.
-
-"I understand, but the money?"
-
-"That shall be yours to-morrow--now skip."
-
-The jingle of a Mexican spur, the soft thud of mustang hoofs upon the
-yielding soil were heard a moment, and the horseman rode slowly away
-southwestward, the broad stiff brim of his sombrero revealed against the
-starry sky; then all was silence. The American, whoever he was, still
-stood there. Adriance felt sure he had heard the voice before. As for
-the horseman--Leon--that was the name he heard her speak the night he
-surprised her in the little summer house. Who was Leon?
-
-[Illustration: 0035]
-
-Presently the American turned and strolled slowly back toward the
-rancho. Slipping Roderick's rein over the post at the angle, the
-lieutenant followed. Keeping close to the wall, the stranger led the
-way, all unconscious of pursuit or observation, yet when he reached the
-next corner, whence could be seen the night lights of the rancho and
-the far-away gleam of the camp fire, out toward the Gila, he stopped and
-peered cautiously around.
-
-Mindful of the evil fame that hung about the premises, Adriance
-halted too and waited. The next moment his heart beat hard. A woman's
-voice--soft, silvery and young--had accosted the stranger. It was
-Isabel's.
-
-"You have sent my brother away again, when he had but just returned. Why
-is this, senor? Whither has he gone?"
-
-"Never mind about Leon, Belita," said the American, soothingly, "he's
-all right. He has simply ridden over to let Captain Rawlins know of our
-mishap."
-
-"It is not true, senor! I heard him speak to my father. It is to Sancho
-and to Manuel he rides, and for no good. To what new crime do you lead
-him? Why are they all gone? Why are we alone here this night? Why----"
-
-"Don't be a fool, girl," said the man curtly, as he took her by the
-wrist. "Come, Leon's gone. Come back to the house."
-
-"He has not gone. He promised me he would not go from me without a word
-to-night. The moment I saw you I knew that trouble would come, and I
-warned him when he returned. You have made him wicked--you Americanos.
-You are all----'
-
-"Oh, yes, all, even Teniente Adriance, Isabel. I heard all about you and
-your affair with him. Have a care!"
-
-"No. He is good. It is not in him to make a gambler and a rover of my
-brother."
-
-"He would make worse of your brother's sister, you fool," the man
-muttered, with brutal emphasis. "Come now, no nonsense with that fellow;
-he's as good as married already, I tell you; he is to be married in two
-months."
-
-"Oh, it is not true!" was the fiery answer. "You lie!" And then, with
-feminine inconsequence, "Who is she? Who does he marry?"
-
-"The Senorita Abert--a lovely girl, too, and rich--in San Francisco."
-
-"Yes, it is a lie, Staines, and you know it!" came in cool and measured
-tones, and Mr. Adriance suddenly stepped from the corner of the wall.
-
-Staines dropped the captive's hand and recoiled a pace or two with a
-stifled exclamation, half amaze, half dismay; then with sudden effort
-strove to recover himself. "Well," he exclaimed, with a nervous laugh;
-"talk of angels and you hear the rustle, etc. Indeed, lieutenant, I
-beg your pardon, though; I was merely joking with our little Mexican
-friend."
-
-"That will do, Mr. Staines; I know a joke when I hear one. Wait here
-a moment, if you please, for I want a word with you. Pardon me for
-startling you, senorita. Will you take my arm?"
-
-The girl was trembling violently. With bowed head and fluttering heart
-she leaned upon the trooper's arm and was slowly led away toward the
-rancho, never seeming to note that the little brown hand that had been
-so firmly taken and drawn within by his was still tightly clasped
-by that cavalry gauntlet. The moment they were out of the earshot of
-Staines the lieutenant bent down.
-
-"It was to see you I came here, Isabel; I had hoped to find you at the
-summer house. Come to me there in ten minutes, will you? I must see you
-before I go. First, though, I have to investigate that fellow Staines."
-
-"Oh, I cannot! I dare not! I slipped away from my room because of Leon.
-They will lead him into trouble again. Indeed, I must go back. I must
-go, Senor Felipe."
-
-"You remember my name, then, little one!" he laughed, delightedly. "I
-have been to Tucson since I saw you that blessed night, and I heard all
-about you."
-
-"Hush, senor! It is my mother who calls. List! Let me go, sefior!"
-for his arm had suddenly stolen about her waist. "Promise you will
-come--promise!"
-
-"I dare not! O Felipe, no!" she cried, for he had with quick impulse
-folded her tightly in his strong embrace and his lips were seeking hers.
-Struggling to avoid them she had hidden her face upon his breast.
-
-"Promise--quick!" he whispered.
-
-"Ah, if I can--yes. Now let me go." His firm hand turned her glowing
-face to his; his eager lips pressed one lingering kiss just at the
-corner of her pretty mouth. She hurled herself from him then and bounded
-into the darkness. An instant more and he heard the latch of the rear
-door click; a stream of light shot out toward the corral and she was
-gone. Then slowly he returned to the corner of the wall, fully expecting
-that Staines had left. To his surprise, there was the clerk composedly
-awaiting him.
-
-"Where have you sent Leon Ruiz?" was the stern question.
-
-"I do not recognize your right to speak to me in that tone, Mr.
-Adriance. If you have nothing else to ask me--good night!"
-
-"By God, sir! I heard your whispered talk with him and I know there is
-mischief afoot," said the lieutenant, as he strode after the retreating
-form. "This thing has got to be explained, and in the major's presence."
-
-Staines halted, and lifting his hat with Castilian grace of manner bowed
-profoundly to the angry officer. "Permit me, sir, to conduct you to
-him."
-
-An hour later, baffled, puzzled, balked in his precious hopes, Mr.
-Adriance returned to the bivouac of his little command. Major Sherrick
-had promptly and fully confirmed the statement of his clerk. It was he
-who told Mr. Staines to employ a ranchman to ride by night to Captain
-Rawlins, and the mysterious caution that surrounded the proceedings was
-explained by the fact that Pedro had refused his permission and that
-Leon had to be bribed to disobey the paternal order. Adriance was
-dissatisfied and suspicious, but what was there left for him to say?
-
-Then he had hastened to the summer house, and waited a whole hour, but
-there came no Isabel. It was nearly 10 o'clock when he turned his horse
-over to the care of the guard in a little clump of cottonwoods near the
-Gila.
-
-"We remain here to-morrow," he briefly told the sergeant. "No need
-to wake the men before 6." With that he went to the little wall tent,
-pitched for his use some yards away.
-
-How long he slumbered Adriance could not tell. Ill at ease as to the
-strange conduct of Staines, he had not slept well. Conscience, too, was
-smiting him. Something in the tones of that girlish voice thrilled and
-quivered through his memory. What right had he even to ask her to meet
-him? What wrong had he not wrought in that one kiss?
-
-Somebody was fumbling at the fastening of the tent flap.
-
-"What is wanted, sergeant?" he quickly hailed.
-
-"Open, quick!" was the low-toned answer. "Come to the door. No, no,
-bring no light," was the breathless caution, as he struck a match.
-
-"Who is this?" he demanded, with strange thrill at heart--something in
-those tones he well knew--yet it could not be. A dim figure in shrouding
-_serape_ was crouching at the front tent pole as he threw open the flap.
-
-"Good God! Isabel!"
-
-"Si---- Yes. Hush, senor, no one must hear, no one must know 'twas I.
-Quick! Wake your men! Saddle! Ride hard till you catch the paymaster!
-Never leave him till you are beyond Canyon del Muerto, and then never
-come to the rancho again--never!"
-
-[Illustration: 5039]
-
-
-SECOND CHAPTER
-
-[Illustration: 0040]
-
-[Illustration: 9040]
-
-HAT off mule of the paymaster's ambulance been a quadruped of wonderful
-recuperative powers. She had gone nearly dead lame all the previous day,
-and now at 5 o'clock on this breezy morning was trotting along as though
-she had never known a twinge in her life. Mr. Staines was apparently
-nonplussed. Acting on his advice, the paymaster had decided to break
-camp soon after 2 o'clock, make coffee, and then start for Rawlins' camp
-at once. He confidently expected to have to drag along at a slow walk,
-and his idea was to get well through the Canyon del Muerto before the
-heat of the day. The unexpected recovery of Jenny, however, enabled
-them to go bowling ahead over the level flat, and at sunrise they were
-already in sight of the northern entrance to the gorge. It was odd how
-early Mr. Staines began to develop lively interest in the condition of
-that mule. First he suggested to the driver that he was going too fast,
-and would bring on that lameness again; but the driver replied that it
-was Jenny herself who was doing most of the pulling. Then Staines became
-fearful lest the cavalry escort should get exhausted by such steady
-trotting, and ventured to say to Major Sherrick that they ought to rein
-up on their account. Sherrick was eager to push ahead, and, like most
-other men not to the manner born, never for a moment thought of such a
-thing as a horse's getting used up by simply carrying a man-at-arms six
-hours at ceaseless trot or lope. However, he knew that Staines was far
-more experienced in such matters than he, and so could not disregard his
-advice.
-
-[Illustration: 8041]
-
-"How is it, sergeant, are we going too fast for you?" he asked.
-
-"Not a bit of it, sir," was the cheery answer.
-
-"We're glad enough to go lively now and rest all day in the shade."
-
-"You see how it is, Staines; they don't want to slack up speed. We'll
-get to Rawlins' in time for breakfast at this rate," and again Staines
-was silent. Presently the team began the ascent of a rolling wave of
-foothill, around which the roadway twisted as only Arizona roadways can,
-and at the crest the driver reined in to give his mules a "breather."
-Staines leaped from the ambulance for a stretch. The troopers promptly
-dismounted and loosened saddle girths.
-
-"Yonder is the mouth of the Canyon, sir," said the sergeant, pointing
-to a rift in the range to the south, now gorgeously lighted up by the
-morning sunshine.
-
-"How long is the defile, sergeant?"
-
-"Not more than four miles, sir--that is, the Canyon itself--but it is
-crooked as a ram's horn, and the approach on the other side is a long,
-winding valley."
-
-"When were you there last?" asked Staines.
-
-"About six months ago, just after Dins-more was murdered."
-
-Staines turned quickly away and strolled back a few yards along the
-road.
-
-"You knew Dinsmore, then?" asked the paymaster.
-
-"I knew him well, sir. We had served together during the war. They said
-he fell in love with a pretty Mexican girl at Tucson, and she would
-not listen to him. Some of the men heard that she was a daughter of old
-Pedro who keeps that ranch, and that it was hoping to see her that he
-went there."
-
-"I know. I remember hearing about it all then," said the paymaster. "Did
-you ever see anything of the man who was said to have killed him?"
-
-"Sonora Bill? No, sir; and I don't know anyone who ever did. He was
-always spoken of as the chief of a gang of cutthroats and stage robbers
-down around Tucson. They used to masquerade as Apaches sometimes--that's
-the way they were never caught. The time they robbed Colonel Wood and
-killed his clerk 'I' troop was scouting not ten miles away, and blessed
-if some of the very gang didn't gallop to Lieutenant Breese and swear
-the Apaches had attacked their camp here in Canyon del Muerto, so that
-when the lieutenant was wanted to chase the thieves his troop couldn't
-be found anywhere--he was 'way up here hunting for Apaches in the
-Maricopa range. The queer thing about that gang was that they always
-knew just when a paymaster's outfit or a Government officer with funds
-would be along. It was those fellows that robbed Major Rounds, the
-quartermaster, and jumped the stage when Lieutenant Spaulding and his
-wife were aboard. She had beautiful diamonds that they were after,
-but the lieutenant fooled them--he had them sent by express two days
-afterward."
-
-Mr. Staines came back toward the ambulance at this moment, took a field
-glass from its case, and retraced his steps along the road some twenty
-yards. Here he adjusted the glass and looked long toward the northeast.
-
-"All ready to start, sir," said the driver.
-
-The major swung himself up to his seat; the troopers quietly "sinched"
-their saddles and mounted, and still the clerk stood there absorbed.
-
-"Come, Staines!" shouted the paymaster, impatiently, "we're waiting for
-you." And still he did not move. The sergeant whirled his horse about
-and clattered back to where he stood.
-
-"Come, sir, the major's waiting." Staines turned abruptly and, silent as
-ever, hurried to the wagon.
-
-"What were you staring at so long?" said the paymaster, pettishly, as
-his assistant clambered in. "I shouted two or three times."
-
-Staines' face was pale, yet there were drops of sweat upon his brow.
-
-"I thought I saw a party of horsemen out there on the flats."
-
-"The devil!" said the paymaster, with sudden interest. "Where? Let me
-look."
-
-"You can't see now, sir. Even the dust cloud is gone. They are behind
-that low ridge some eight or ten miles out there in the valley."
-
-"Go on, driver, it's only cattle from the ranch or something of that
-kind. I didn't know, by the way you looked and spoke, but that it might
-be some of Sonora Bill's gang."
-
-"Hardly, sir; they haven't been heard of for a year, and once away from
-Pedro's we are safe enough anyhow."
-
-Half an hour later the four-mule team was winding slowly up a rocky
-path. On both sides the heights were steep, covered with a thick
-undergrowth of scrub oak and juniper. Here and there rocky cliffs
-jutted out from the hillside and stood like sentinels along the way.
-The sergeant, with one trooper, rode some distance ahead, their carbines
-"advanced" and ready for use, for Edwards was an old campaigner, and,
-though he thought it far from probable that any outlaws would be fools
-enough to attempt to "get away with" a paymaster's bank when he and his
-five men were the guardians and Captain Rawlins with his whole troop
-was but a short distance away, he had learned the lesson of precaution.
-Major Sherrick, with his iron safe under his own seat, grasped a rifle
-in both hands. The driver was whistling softly to himself and glancing
-attentively ahead, for there was a continuous outcrop of boulders all
-along the road. The remaining troopers, four in number, rode close
-behind or alongside the wagon.
-
-Presently they reached a point where, after turning a precipitous ledge
-of rock, glistening in the morning sunshine, they saw before them a
-somewhat steep incline. Here, without a word, Staines swung lightly
-from the vehicle and trudged for a moment alongside; then he stooped to
-adjust his boot lace, and when Sherrick looked back the clerk was coming
-jauntily after them, only a dozen paces in rear. In this order they
-pushed ahead perhaps a hundred yards farther, moving slowly up the
-defile, and Staines could easily have regained his distance, but for
-some reason failed to do so. Suddenly, and for no apparent cause, Jenny
-and her mate shied violently, swerved completely around and were tangled
-up with the wheel team before the driver could use the lash. Even his
-ready blasphemy failed to straighten things out.
-
-"Look out for those rocks up there on the right!" he shouted. "Grab
-their heads, Billy!"
-
-Even as he spoke the rocky walls of the Canyon resounded with the crash
-of a score of firearms. The driver, with a convulsive gasp, toppled
-forward out of his seat, his hand still clinching the reins. One of the
-troopers clapped his hand to his forehead, his reins falling useless
-upon his horse's neck, and reeled in the saddle as his charger whirled
-about and rushed, snorting with fright, down the narrow road. At the
-instant of the firing the sound of a dozen "spats" told where
-the leaden missiles had torn through the stiff canvas cover of the
-ambulance; and Sherrick, with blanched face, leaped from the riddled
-vehicle and plunged heavily forward upon his hands and knees. Two of
-the troopers sprang from their saddles, and, crouching behind a boulder
-across the road, opened fire up the opposite hillside. The sergeant and
-his comrade, bending low over their horses' necks, came thundering back
-down the Canyon, just in time to see the mules whirl about so suddenly
-as to throw the ambulance on its side. The iron safe was hurled into the
-shallow ditch; the wagon bed dragged across the prostrate form of the
-paymaster, rolling him over and over half a dozen times, and then, with
-a wreck of canvas, splinters, chains and traces clattering at their
-heels, the four mules went rattling away down the gorge.
-
-[Illustration: 0047]
-
-"Jump for shelter, men!" shouted Sergeant Edwards, as he dragged the
-senseless form of the major under the great ledge to the right. "Stand
-them off as long as you can! Come out of your holes, you cowardly
-hounds!" he roared, shaking his fist at the smoke-wreathed rocks up the
-heights. "Come out and fight fair! There's only five of us left!"
-
-Here in the road lay the major, bleeding from cuts and bruises, with
-every breath knocked out of his battered body; yonder, his hands
-'clinched in the death agony, the stiffening form of the driver--plucky
-to the last. Twenty yards away down the road, all in a heap, lay one
-poor soldier shot through the head, and now past praying for. One of
-the others was bleeding from a gash along the cheek where a bullet had
-zipped its way, and Edwards shouted in vain for Staines to join them;
-the clerk had disappeared. For full five minutes the desperate combat
-was maintained; the sergeant and his little squad crouching behind the
-nearest rocks and firing whenever head or sombrero showed itself along
-the heights. Then came shots from the rear, and another poor fellow was
-laid low, and Edwards realized, to his despair, that the bandits were on
-every side, and the result only a question of time.
-
-And then--then, there came a thunder of hoof beats, a storm of ringing
-cheers, a rush and whirl of panting, foaming steeds and a score of
-sunburnt, stalwart troopers racing in the lead of a tall young soldier,
-whose voice rang clear above the tumult: "Dismount! Up the rocks, men!
-Lively now!" And, springing from his own steed, leaping catlike from
-rock to rock, Phil Adriance went tearing up the heights, his soldiers at
-his heels. Edwards and his unwounded men seized and held the trembling
-horses; Sherrick feebly crawled to his precious safe and fell across it,
-his arms clasping about his iron charge. For five minutes more there was
-a clamor of shots and shouts, once in a while a wild Mexican shriek
-for mercy, all the tumult gradually receding in the distance, and at
-last--silence. Then two men came down the bluffs, half bearing between
-them the limp form of their young leader. The lieutenant was shot
-through both thighs and was faint from loss of blood.
-
-"Has no one a little whiskey?" asked Corporal Watts.
-
-"Here you are" was the answer. And Mr. Staines, with very white face,
-stepped down from behind the ledge and held out his flask.
-
-A week later the lieutenant lay convalescing at Rawlins' camp. A
-vigorous constitution and the healthful, bracing, open-air life he
-had led for several years, either in the saddle or tramping over the
-mountains, had enabled him to triumph speedily over such minor ills as
-flesh wounds, even though the loss of blood had been very great. The
-young soldier was soon able to give full particulars of his chase, and
-to one man alone, Rawlins, the secret of its inspiration.
-
-Most important had been the results. It was evident to everyone who
-examined the ground--and Rawlins had scoured the range with one platoon
-of his troop that very afternoon after the fight, while his lieutenant,
-Mr. Lane, was chasing the fugitives with another--that a band of at
-least twenty outlaws had been concealed among the rocks of Canyon del
-Muerto for two or three days, evidently for the purpose of waylaying
-the escort of the paymaster when he came along. Their horses had been
-concealed half a mile away in a deep ravine, and it was in trying to
-escape to them that they had sustained their losses. Five of their
-number were shot down in full flight by Adri-ance's men, and, could they
-have caught the others, no quarter would have been given, for the men
-were infuriated by the sight of the havoc the robbers had wrought, and
-by the shooting of their favorite officer.
-
-[Illustration: 0052]
-
-No papers had been found on the bodies; nothing, in fact, to identify
-them with any band. All, with one exception, were Mexicans; he was a
-white man whom none of the troopers could identify, though Corporal
-Watts, of Troop B, declared he had seen him at "Cutthroat Crossing" the
-last time he went through there on escort duty. The others, whoever they
-were, rode in a body until they got around the range to the southward,
-then seemed to scatter over the face of the earth. Some odd things had
-transpired, over which Rawlins pondered not a little. It was Corporal
-Watts who brought to his camp at 11 o'clock the news of the desperate
-attempt to murder and rob the paymaster, and as they rode back together
-the corporal gave the captain such information as lay in his power.
-Lieutenant Adriance had "routed out" the detachment just at daybreak,
-when it was still dark, and saddling with the utmost haste had led away
-across country for the canyon, leaving the pack mules and a small guard
-at camp. "We rode like the wind," said Watts, "after the first few
-miles, and every man seemed to know just what to expect when at last we
-struck the road and saw the trail of the ambulance and escort. We got
-there just in the nick of time."
-
-When Sherrick--who though severely battered and bruised had no bones
-broken--was able to talk at all, he never could say enough in praise of
-Adriance and his men; but what he wanted to know was how they came to
-learn of the threatened danger. Captain Rawlins protested that it was
-"past finding out." The major questioned the men, but without
-success, and as for Staines, it was remarked that his pertinacity in
-cross-examination was simply wonderful. For some reason, however, the
-men of B troop did not like the fellow and would have little to do with
-him. But up to the time that Major Sherrick was able to push ahead for
-Tucson it is certain that he had discovered nothing as to the source of
-the lieutenant's information; neither had they heard of Leon Ruiz, the
-night messenger. Staines opined that he must have been intercepted by
-the bandits, perhaps killed by them, when it was found that he was the
-bearer of a message to Captain Rawlins. After a brief chat with the
-lieutenant himself, one which the doctor did not interdict, the old
-troop commander sent a trusty sergeant with six men to scout the
-neighborhood of the rancho.
-
-Lieutenant Lane was detached to take command of Adriance's troop,
-which was sent on its way forthwith, leaving the gloomy rancho alone to
-sentinel the Gila crossing. But the moment Sherrick and his silent clerk
-drove on toward Tucson the old captain said a few words of farewell to
-the invalid, left him in the doctor's charge and rode away northward
-on the trail of his sergeant. That night he rapped for admission and
-ordered supper at Rancho Ruiz, while his men, strolling about the
-premises, took careful note of the three or four scowling "greasers" who
-infested the corral.
-
-Adriance was sitting up and beginning to hobble around when Rawlins
-returned to camp during the week that followed, and was all eagerness
-to hear what tidings the captain had to tell. But Rawlins had little to
-say; he had seen Pedro and had had one glimpse of Senora Dolores,
-but not so much as a word with the senorita; she was kept carefully
-concealed. Within the month Adriance was quite well enough to travel to
-his station, but refused. He would remain here, he said, until able to
-relieve Lane of the command of his troop and continue the scouting work.
-He did not wish to go to the fort. Sherrick and his clerk had come back
-in the course of a fortnight, and Mr. Staines asked to see Lieutenant
-Adriance, but that gentleman refused--a matter which caused the clerk
-to "bite his lips and look queer," reported the soldier who took the
-message, but he said nothing at all.
-
-Ten days afterward a Prescott paper mentioned the fact that Mr. Albert
-G. Staines, so long and favorably known in this Territory, had dropped
-in to look over valuable mining properties in the Big Bug and Hassayampa
-districts; and this Rawlins silently showed to Adriance.
-
-"Then you may be sure he'll come down to the rancho, and in less than no
-time," said Adriance, "and I must go." Rawlins made no reply at first,
-then he rose and nervously paced the floor a moment and turned upon his
-junior.
-
-"Philip, I say no!"
-
-The color mounted to the lieutenant's
-
-"Why not?"
-
-"Ask yourself; ask your conscience, Adriance. You have told her that he,
-Staines, was a liar. You have virtually told her that you were engaged
-to no woman. You have inspired a sentiment, perhaps a passion, in that
-young girl's heart, and you're going there to defend her--a thing that I
-can do much better than you, now that you are a cripple. Then, think, my
-boy, I have known you six years; I have never known you to say or do a
-mean or unmanly thing. I'm an old fogy--an old fool perhaps--but I
-like to think most women pure and some men honest. You are one of them,
-Phil." There was a moment's silence.
-
-"And yet you think I mean her harm."
-
-"Not yet, Philip, but would you marry that old scoundrel's daughter?"
-
-Adriance had no answer.
-
-"Philip, if you look into that girl's eyes again, unless it be to ask
-her to be your wife, I shall lose my faith in manly honor."
-
-Two days afterward Rawlins rode away on duty. A strange unrest had
-possessed the lieutenant since that brief talk with this old Puritan of
-a captain. Not another word had been said upon the subject, but every
-syllable that Rawlins spoke had struck home. Adriance respected
-and honored the grim, duty-loving troop commander whom some of the
-youngsters openly laughed at and referred to as "Praise the Lord
-Barebones" and "Captain Roundhead," but the lieutenant well knew that no
-braver soldier, no "squar-er" captain drew sabre in the whole regiment
-than this faithful friend, who had long since singled him out for many
-an unusual kindness. He knew more--that in his high standard of honor
-and rectitude old Rawlins had said nothing which was not just and true.
-
-Adriance knew well that he ought not to again seek that young girl's
-presence, and the blood rushed hotly to his cheek as he recalled the
-kiss his eager lips had stolen. Marry that old scoundrel's daughter? No,
-he could not; and yet how his pulses bounded at the thought of her--the
-sweet, shy gladness in her eyes, the soft, thrilling tones in her voice
-when she spoke his name, the heroism of her conduct in daring to
-seek his camp in the darkness of night and bring him warning of that
-diabolical scheme of robbery and murder; the refinement of her manner,
-and then, too, her knowledge of the English tongue. Where had she
-acquired these? What would she not be justified in thinking of him if he
-never came to seek and thank her?
-
-"Hello! what's that?" was the sudden cry among the men. Two or three
-soldiers sat up in the shade and curiously inspected the coming object;
-others shouted laughing challenge. Riding solemnly forward, a little
-Mexican boy came straight to where Adriance was lying and handed him a
-note which he eagerly opened and read:
-
-_They suspect me, and they send me away tomorrow. To-night I go for the
-last time to the summer house alone. Isabel._
-
-Gone was every resolution at the instant; gone all hesitancy. Adriance
-had not even time to wonder at the fact that she had written to him in
-English. Leaving the note for Rawlins to read when he returned, in one
-hour Phil was rolling from the camp in the ambulance. Soon after dark,
-leaving Private Regan and another man half a mile back from the walls
-of the corral, Mr. Adriance, all alone, slowly made his way afoot toward
-the dim lights at the rancho. Making wide circuit so as not to alarm the
-dogs, he never sought to draw near the little summer house until, from
-the east, he could see the brighter lights that gleamed in the bar and
-card room. Then he cautiously approached, his heart beating quickly and
-his knees trembling a little, perhaps from weakness. Hark! Faint, soft
-and clear, there rose upon the evening air the liquid notes of a guitar.
-It was she then--it was Isabel awaiting his coming, aye, signaling
-softly to call him to her. What could it mean but that she loved and
-longed to see him? A moment more and he was at the doorway, the
-very spot where he had surprised her that well-remembered night. The
-plaintive tinkle of the guitar continued, and there in the dark corner
-was the dim, white-robed form. He could almost distinguish the folds of
-the graceful _rebosa_.
-
-"Isabel!" he whispered. Three more steps and he would be at her side.
-Suddenly two stalwart arms were thrown about him, a broad hand was on
-his mouth, stifling the utterance of a sound; the white-robed form in
-front leaped toward him, the _rebosa_ falling to the ground. It was a
-man's voice--a Mexican's--that hissed the word's: "Quick! the pistol."
-Another hand was at his holster. He realized instantly that he was
-lured, trapped; that his life was threatened. He was struggling
-violently, but, weakened by his wound, even his superb physique was well
-nigh powerless in the grasp of two or three men. Suddenly there came
-a whisper: "The sponge, the sponge!" and then the subtle odor of
-chloroform on the night air. And now he nerved himself for one supreme
-effort. A quick twist of his head and the hand was dislodged, a finger
-slipping between his teeth. With all his strength he crushed it to the
-very bone, and there was a yell of pain and terror. Then his own brave
-young voice rang out in one startling, rallying cry.
-
-"Help! Regan, help!" Then crash and blows, the gleam of a knife, a
-rolling, rough-and-tumble struggle on the ground; then a woman's scream,
-a light, and Isabel had bounded into their midst, her mother at her
-back.
-
-"Leon, my brother! In God's name, what do you mean?"
-
-Even as she spoke her startled eyes fell on Adriance, staggering to his
-feet, pale, bleeding, faint. Another instant and he went crashing back
-against the guitar that, like siren's song, had lured him. One brave
-leap and she was at his side, her arms about his neck, his pallid face
-pillowed on her bosom.
-
-Senora Dolores flew to her aid; then turning, holding her lantern on
-high, her shrill voice rang out in fury:
-
-"Look at the monstrous work your son has wrought, Pedro Ruiz! Look! Tear
-off that mantle, senor!" she said, whirling upon another form now slowly
-rising from the earth. "Coward! murderer that you are! It is you who
-have ruined this boy and made him what he is!"
-
-"Hush! You fool! there lies your daughter's betrayer. Leon would have
-been coward indeed if he had not punished him."
-
-"Oh, you lie! She never saw him alone in her life!"
-
-"Ask your son," was the sneering answer. "Ask Jose, too."
-
-"She was with him--in his tent--the last night he was here; I swear it!"
-cried Jose.
-
-"Mother," cried the girl, "listen, it was but to warn him--I heard the
-plot--I heard all. I rushed to him only to tell him of the danger.
-Mother, believe me. And I dare not tell it even to you, for fear--for
-fear of him." And she pointed to the fierce, scowling face of the old
-Mexican, now striding forward, knife in hand.
-
-"No, Pedro--back! You shall not harm her! No!" and the mother hurled
-herself before her husband.
-
-"Out of the way!" was the hissing answer, "or you, too, feel my knife.
-Ah, traitress!"
-
-"O my God! help! There will be murder here! Pedro, husband! O, villain,
-she is not your child! You shall not kill!" And then a piercing shriek
-rang out upon the night. But at the same instant there came the rush of
-hoofs without--a rush of panting men; a brawny trooper sprang into
-the summer house and with one blow of his revolver butt sent Pedro
-staggering into a corner, his knife falling from his nerveless hand. A
-dark, agile figure leaped for the doorway, with muttered curse. And then
-in came old Rawlins, somewhat "blown," but preternaturally cool, and the
-doctor close behind.
-
-"Bring another light here, one of you men!" And a trooper ran to the
-card room. "Lie still there, Pedro! Blow his brains out if he moves!
-Doctor, you look to the women and Adriance. Now, where's that man
-Staines?"
-
-"Some fellow ran in through here, captain," said a trooper. "Corporal
-Watts is after him with Royce."
-
-"Who was it, you greaser? Speak, damn you! You were here with him!"
-
-"Sonora Bill," said Jose, shaking from head to foot.
-
-Then there came the sound of pistol shots out toward the corral, and
-then the louder bang of a cavalry carbine.
-
-"What is it?" asked Rawlins of a soldier who came running back.
-
-[Illustration: 0061]
-
-"Can we have the doctor, sir? It was Mr. Staines. He shot the corporal,
-who was chasing him, but he got a carbine bullet through the heart."
-
-Four days afterward, lying in a little white room, Mr. Adriance listened
-to the story of Leon's confession. It was brief enough. Staines had
-acquired an ascendency over him in Tucson, and it was not difficult to
-induce him to become a confederate in every plot. It was Staines
-who sent him to Manuel and Garcia to warn them that the paymaster's
-ambulance would not reach Canyon del Muerto until morning. It was
-Staines who murdered Sergeant Dinsmore after a quarrel and then had had
-his throat cut and the body thrown into the Gila near the ranch. Staines
-had fallen in love with Isabel when she first came from Sonora, but the
-girl shrank from him; neither would she listen to Sergeant Dinsmore.
-
-After it was safe for Leon to return to the ranch, he found that his
-mother and Isabel were practically prisoners. His father was furious at
-the failure of the plan, and daily accused his wife of having, in some
-way, given warning to Adriance, and swore that he would have the blood
-of the man or woman who had betrayed the scheme; and then Staines
-himself came back and wrung from Jose that he had seen Isabel scurrying
-from Adri-ance's tent at daybreak, and so denounced her to Leon as the
-mistress of an accursed Gringo. Staines wrote the note that was to lure
-Adriance to the bower, where Leon was to take the guitar and _rebosa_
-and the two, with Jose's help, were to overpower him. It was his life or
-theirs said Staines. Pedro was not in the project, for he had prohibited
-bloodshed about the place--"It would ruin his business" he said. But
-both Pedro and Leon were now in irons, and Rawlins' troop was in camp
-around gloomy old Rancho Ruiz.
-
-[Illustration: 0063]
-
-A day or two later he heard another story, this time from the lips of
-Senora Dolores herself: Isabel was not the daughter of Pedro Ruiz.
-
-With sobs and tears the poor, broken woman told her tale. She had
-been married when quite a young girl to Senor Moreno, an officer of
-distinction in the Mexican army. Her brave husband made her life a happy
-one, and the birth of the little daughter strengthened the ties
-that bound them. Alas! Moreno, colonel of lancers, was killed before
-Queretaro; and in two years more the widow, with her winsome little
-girl, had not where to lay her head. It was in the city of Mexico that
-Senora Dolores then met Ruiz, a widower with an only son, prosperous and
-apparently respected. He promised to educate Isabel and provide for her
-as his own, and sought the widow as his wife. For a time all went well;
-then she learned his true character. He was compelled to leave the
-city and flee up the coast to Mazatlan, while she remained with little
-Isabel, who was being educated at the convent. At last they had to join
-him at Hermosillo, whence he was soon after driven to Tucson. Their
-lives were wrecked by his scoundrelism. Her papers clearly established
-the truth of her story.
-
-One soft, still evening, not a week after the tragic events of that
-rueful night, Captain Rawlins sat by the lieutenant's side, reading
-aloud some letters just received from department headquarters. Major
-Sherrick had been in a state of dismay ever since the news of the death
-of Staines had reached him, but his dismay changed to wonderment, even
-gratitude, as he learned the true character of the man. It was Sonora
-Bill himself, beyond doubt.
-
-"What a blessing you left that note for me to see!" said Rawlins. "How
-came it you never saw it was a forgery, Phil? Had she never written to
-you before?"
-
-"Never a line, nor have I seen her to thank her. By Heaven, Rawlins! why
-am I forbidden?"
-
-"You are not--now, Phil," was the smiling answer.
-
-Perhaps an hour later, Adriance limped slowly out of the room and down
-the narrow passageway to the side door. Yonder stood the little summer
-house "in the gloaming," and he was right--he had heard women's voices
-there--Dolores and her daughter. There were tears in the maiden's words,
-and he could not withstand the longing of his heart. He would have
-hobbled thither, but suddenly there came the sound of rustling skirt
-and a tiny footfall. It was she--his dark-eyed, dark-haired sweetheart,
-hastening toward him, her face hidden in her hands. One instant more and
-he had torn the hands away and had clasped her to his breast.
-
-"Isabel! darling! I have found you at last! No, you shall not go--you
-shall not until you promise--promise to be my wife!
-
-"O, senor, you cannot--you do not mean it," she sobbed, Struggling to be
-free.
-
-"Do not mean it! Why, sweet one, you do not dream how I love you--how I
-long for you! Not mean it? Isabel, look in my eyes. Look for yourself."
-He laughed low and happily. He was brimming over with hope and gladness,
-for now at last without a struggle she nestled on his heart.
-
-Despite his grizzled beard old Rawlins was best man when that strange,
-very quiet, yet very happy wedding came off in the Old Mission Church at
-Tucson early in the spring. Pedro was not there to give the bride away.
-With considerable escort and much reluctance he had traversed "Cutthroat
-Crossing" some months before. He went to Yavapai, and Yavapai--we have
-his own words for it--was "too damn close to 'ell." The rancho passed
-within the year to other hands. It, too, had taken on another name--a
-grewsome one--_Rancho del Muerto_.
-
-
-
-
-A MIGHTY HUNTER BEFORE THE LORD, By Virginius Dabney.
-
-
-[Illustration: 0066]
-
-
-FIRST PART
-
-
-|THE man unacquainted with the joys of the chase would be surprised if
-told, as he sauntered through some city market, that there was far more
-pleasure in hunting those plump little brown birds hanging in bunches
-around the stalls than in pursuing that imposing beast whose antlers
-reach the pavement. Yet it would be true.
-
-Deer hunting under its usual conditions leaves something, often much, to
-be desired. If a dozen men are placed on isolated "stands" the solitary
-hours of waiting are long and weary. And should you happen to be a tyro
-the knowing ones hide you away in some unlikely spot, where hardly
-by any possibility will the chance come to you of seeing and, in the
-shivers of "buck ague," missing the game. "Still hunting," another mode,
-is well named. As a rule it may be depended upon to afford no end of
-stillness, and little else. And to be rowed up by a hired guide on a
-lake to within a few feet of a poor, helpless buck, swimming for dear
-life, and blow out his brains is almost as bad as shooting pheasants in
-an English preserve or poultry in a barnyard. Under all these methods
-deer hunting lacks what is the conspicuous charm of partridge (quail)
-shooting--vivid and continuous excitement.
-
-For, from the moment when you enter, on a sparkling autumn morning, a
-brown stubble field, fresh of limb and eager for the fray, till you limp
-back at sunset, wolfish for dinner, and broken with a delicious fatigue,
-you have not had one dull moment. You may not have been firing steadily;
-the birds may even have been a little scarce; but every instant of the
-day, as you have watched your dogs sweeping to and fro, you have been
-buoyed up by an ever lively hope that the next moment your heart will be
-gladdened by seeing them halt--frozen as it were--in their tracks. Ah,
-there they are! You hurry up, you and your friend, breathing short. Up
-bursts the brown covey, with startling buzz! You bang away--innocuously
-it may be, but no matter, you have made a prodigious noise, at any
-rate--that's some comfort. And see now! The little brown balls have
-dropped into the weeds, one here, one there, along the ditch, and a
-little bunch, all together, in that clump of briars on the hillside.
-Better luck next time!
-
-Still, after all, "Bob White," for all his bustle, is but a small chap.
-It would take hundreds, nay, bushels of him, to outweigh one "antlered
-monarch." Toothsome though he be (on toast) he tips the scales at a
-beggarly half pound. On the other hand, it often takes you a week or so
-to get one chance at a deer.
-
-Now, it so happens that it was once my fortune to take part in a deer
-hunt, where the excitement was as continuous as that in a stubble field,
-and, naturally, far more intense. This was years ago, and in Scott
-County, Mississippi, two days' journey on horseback from our plantation.
-
-Every November, as a child, I had eagerly hailed the return from the
-camp hunt of the big four-mule wagon, laden with tents, cooking utensils
-and provisions, and upon which were piled high the noble bucks and sleek
-does. At last, when I had reached the age of sixteen, the longed-for
-permission was granted me, and one crisp, frosty morning my father and I
-mounted our horses and set out for Scott County, followed by Beverly and
-the great covered wagon. Both Beverly and Ned, his whitish-gray saddle
-mule, had their peculiarities, as will appear later.
-
-As we journeyed on we were joined at successive cross roads by others
-of our hunting party, and when we reached the ground we numbered, with
-those already arrived by other routes, about fifteen. The tents were
-soon pitched and a roaring fire of logs six feet long was sending up
-its merry sparks into the starry vault above us. Would supper never be
-ready?
-
-Meanwhile the tents flashed in the fire light, the ruddy glow of which
-battled with the hosts of darkness that advanced upon us under cover
-of the primeval, mysterious forest that surrounded us far and wide. And
-that forest teeming with deer and wolves. Oh, how delightful! And
-my Latin grammar miles and miles away! And dust accumulating on my
-arithmetic!
-
-"Why, where is Billy?"
-
-"Detained by business; he will join us in a day or two."
-
-"Good! A hunt without Billy Blount is no hunt at all."
-
-At the mere mention of his name every eye brightened. Mr. Blount had
-more than one peculiarity, all of them pleasant. He was just one of
-those mortals whom mothers in their fatuity christen William. If ever
-there was a man born with an inalienable right to be called Billy it was
-he. A stranger meeting him in the road would know by intuition that that
-was his name. His twinkling eye suggested it. His ruddy brown dimpled
-cheek, his breadth of smile proclaimed it, and when he laughed every
-well-lined rib shouted aloud, "Our name is Billy!"
-
-But he was not with us; so the next best thing was to tell stories of
-his exploits. To these I listened with wide-eyed delight. I will give
-one as a sample. But that it may be understood, it will be necessary
-to show beforehand the very unusual method of hunting that obtained in
-Scott County.
-
-That portion of Mississippi was in those days almost uninhabited and was
-covered by a forest--it would be almost correct to call it a grove--of
-post oaks, beneath which grew waist high underbrush. The oaks which
-covered the ground almost to the exclusion of other trees stood so far
-apart that one had an outlook of perhaps a couple of hundred yards in
-every direction, so that a good rider could gallop in comfort along the
-open spaces. This tree bears a small but sweet nutritious acorn; hence
-the great store of deer that frequented these forests.
-
-Such being the nature of the ground the chase is conducted as follows:
-The hunters throw themselves into a skirmish line at intervals of sixty
-or eighty yards. In the centre rides the leader of the hunt with a
-compass fixed upon the pommel of his saddle. The line advances through
-the woods due north, let us say, for a few hours; then wheels at right
-angle and moves east; then south, then west--back to camp, venison
-steaks and wild turkey; for, in the interests of better fare, it was
-permitted to knock over a gobbler if he were too hospitably saucy to
-get out of the way. The deer were not equally abundant year after year.
-Occasionally it was found that "black tongue" had worked havoc among
-them since the preceding hunt. But they were always numerous enough to
-maintain a continuous and intense glow of expectation in the breast of
-every hunter. As a rule you rode straight ahead, swerving neither to the
-right nor the left, every nerve on the alert, from sunrise till' sunset.
-But if you saw a little out of your path an upturned tree you bent your
-course toward it, your heart in your mouth. I have known as many as
-seven deer to bound forth from the brown-leaved "lap" of one fallen oak.
-But at any moment during the day you were liable to be startled by a
-buck springing up out of the undergrowth, often from beneath the very
-feet of your horse.
-
-Only an inexperienced hunter would ask: "Why not shoot them where they
-lie?" You do not know they are there. The detective eye that can make
-out the form of a deer crouched down on a bed of brown leaves and veiled
-with a fringe of underbrush is given to few. Among these favored ones
-was our friend Billy. It was generally believed in camp that he shot
-most of his game in their beds. Billy himself was at no pains, of
-course, to spread this view. In his highly-illustrated accounts of his
-achievements the quarry was always going like the wind; he had not been
-sure, in fact, what he fired at; he saw a brown flash, that was all;
-banged away, and down came that thumping buck. Never was so surprised in
-his life; thought it was a hawk or something. But this is the story of
-Mr. Jennings, brother of the leader of the hunt: "Blount rides on my
-right, and I don't know how I shall get on without him, even for a day
-or two. However, I may live longer if he is not there, for he sows his
-buckshot broadcast. Three years ago--I never knew the deer so thick as
-they were that season--happening to look in his direction, I saw him
-dismounting with an agility that was surprising considering his 225
-pounds. He halted me with an eager wave of his hand and began advancing
-on tiptoe; every fibre of his vast form tense, his eyes riveted upon
-some object in front, finger on trigger. Barely had he crept forward
-ten yards when up sprang a buck hardly twenty feet in front of him
-and darted to the rear, between Blount and me. Instantly, without once
-removing his eyes from the game upon which he was stealing, he whirled
-his gun to the right and pulled the trigger. The buck passed on, while
-twigs and bark rained on me from the whizzing buckshot. Would you
-believe it?--but you all know him--not a moment did he halt or once
-remove his eyes from whatever it was that had fascinated his gaze in
-front. He still danced forward, light as an Indian, with eyes starting
-from their sockets. Presently up jumps a doe. She, too, bounded to the
-rear, but on Blount's left this time. Again, with his staring eyes
-still glued to the something in front--bang! 'What in the ------ are
-you about?' roared Parrish from Blount's left; 'you will be shooting
-somebody the first thing you know. Here is one of your crazy shot
-through my hat.' To all which our wild man paid not the least attention.
-'Jennings! Jennings! come here! come here! come here! quick! quick!
-quick! For God's sake, man, hurry!'
-
-"I dismounted and ran up to him. 'There! there! give it to him! Good
-Lord, man, can't you see him? There, in that lap!' I strained my eyes
-in vain. I could see nothing. 'Why, don't you see him turning his head?
-He is looking at us! My Lord, Jennings, gimme the gun! gimme the gun!
-gimme the gun!' Just as I did so a noble buck sprang from the lap and
-bounded off. Blount drew down upon him. Bound after bound, and still
-Blount did not fire, though he seemed to be pulling away for dear life
-at the triggers. Presently the deer, passing behind a clump of trees,
-disappeared. I carried my gun at half cock. This Blount did not know or
-remember. He bent both my triggers. Any other man might very well have
-bagged all three deer with such a chance. And what do you suppose he
-then said? 'At any rate, I laid out two of the rascals. Come, Jennings,
-help me find 'em.'"
-
-Dogs were not used on these hunts. Two or three trusty old hounds, it is
-true, hung about the heels of our leader's horse, but they were employed
-only in running down badly-wounded animals. For the first day or so
-these dogs were hard to control, so rich was the scent that met their
-nostrils at every turn; but after the third day they grew too _blase_ to
-take any interest in any trail not sprinkled with blood. We had a number
-of horn signals. If a gun was heard, followed by a long blast (every man
-wore a horn), the line halted. A deer had been killed in its tracks.
-A second blast indicated that the quarry had been strapped behind the
-saddle of the lucky man; and once more the line moved forward. But if
-three or four short, excited toots, mingled with shouts, rang out upon
-the frosty air, a wounded deer was being pursued, and the leader of the
-hunt galloped up, followed by his little pack, who soon pulled down the
-game.
-
-After all my boasting about the abundance of deer in these post-oak
-forests the reader is, I dare say, prepared to learn that with a party
-of fifteen the spoil of a ten-days hunt would be one thousand head at
-the very least. Great will be his surprise therefore to learn that
-at the close of our first day's hunt we returned to camp without one
-solitary buck or doe to show to our disgusted cooks. Never had the game
-been so scarce, and yet not a man of us all had the same loads in his
-gun with which he had sallied gaily forth full of hope in the morning.
-One fine buck alone had emptied just thirty barrels for us. Flushed on
-the extreme right, he had bounded along in front of the whole line, a
-trifle out of range, perhaps, and each one of us had given him a roaring
-double salute. As the rolling thunder approached me I almost ceased
-to breathe. What were conjugations and declensions and rules of three
-compared with this! It was like a battle, as I have since discovered,
-with the notable difference that our side made all the noise, and the
-deer did not shoot back. But none of us had been able, in the language
-of Mr. Sam Weller's Dick Turpin ditty, to "prewail upon him for to
-stop." Other shots at other deer all of us had, but we supped on bacon
-that evening.
-
-[Illustration: 0075]
-
-
-SECOND PART
-
-
-|ONE who has never tried the experiment can have no idea how easy it
-is to miss when firing from horseback at a buck who sends your heart
-up into your mouth by springing up from beneath your horse's heels, and
-then speeds away, twisting and turning among the boles of the trees.
-Men who could bring down a partridge with each barrel have been known to
-shoot away half a bag of shot before they began to get the hang of the
-thing.
-
-The shades of evening were falling. Humiliating though it was, we had
-fallen, too, with a will on our gameless supper.
-
-"S-t! Listen! What's that?"
-
-We pricked up our ears. Presently there came softly echoing from far
-away in the forest a long-drawn cry, ringing, melodious, clear as a
-bugle call.
-
-"Billy!"
-
-The welkin rang with our joyous shouts. Half our party sprang to their
-feet and red-hot coffee splashed from tin cups. "Hurrah!"
-
-"Marse Billy got the keenest holler I ever hear!" chuckled Beverly.
-"Bound he fetch luck 'long wid him! No mo' bacon for supper arter dis."
-
-We craned our necks to catch the first glimpse of our mascot. Obviously,
-from the direction of the joyous yells with which he answered our
-welcoming shouts, he had abandoned the road and was riding straight
-through the open woods. Presently we descried through the deepening
-twilight his portly form looming up atop a tall gray. Then two vivid
-flashes and two loud reports, followed by a mad rush of the gray, which
-came tearing down on us in wild terror, and for a minute we were treated
-to something like an amateur episode from one of Mr. Buffalo Bill's
-entertainments. Amid roars of laughing welcome the ponderous knight was
-at last helped down from his trembling steed, whose bridle Beverly had
-been able luckily to snatch as he floundered among the tent ropes.
-
-"And where the deuce did you pick up that wild beast? Surely you can't
-expect to shoot from him!"
-
-"Oh, I'll cool him down in a day or two; he'll soon get used to it."
-
-In point of fact a horse who dreads a gun gets more and more terror
-stricken as the hunt goes on, the mere sight of a deer, the cocking of
-a gun even, sufficing to set him off into plungings that grow day by day
-more violent. This none should have known better than Blount; for never,
-by any chance, did he ride to the hunt with an animal that would "stand
-fire." The discharge of his gun, the rise of a buck even, was always the
-opening of a circus with him. But he managed invariably to let off both
-barrels--one perhaps through the tree tops, the other into the ground.
-In one particular alone was he provident. He brought always so immense
-a supply of ammunition that toward the close of the hunt his tent was a
-supply magazine to the less thoughtful.
-
-"What!" exclaimed Blount, "not a single one! Ah! boys, that was because
-I was not with you." The jovial soul had not a trace of conceit; he was
-merely sanguine--contagiously, gloriously, magnificently sanguine.
-
-"Ah, but won't we knock 'em over tomorrow!" And straightway we lifted up
-our hearts and had faith in this prophet of pleasant things.
-
-"Beverly, will that mule Ned stand fire?"
-
-"I dunno, Marse Billy; nobody ain't nebber tried him. But I 'spec' you
-wouldn't ax him no odds."
-
-"I'll go and have a look at him."
-
-Shortly afterward we heard two tremendous explosions, followed by a
-frenzied clatter of hoofs and the sound of breaking branches, and up
-there came, running and laughing, a Monsieur Wynen, a Belgian violinist,
-a real artist, who was one of our party (though never a trigger did he
-pull during the entire hunt).
-
-"What's the matter?"
-
-Wynen was first violin in an opera troupe.
-
-"It is only Blount rehearsing Ned."
-
-Any man in the world except Blount would have tested that demure wheel
-mule's views as to firearms by firing off his gun in his neighborhood as
-he stood tethered. Not so Billy. Mounting the guileless and unsuspecting
-Ned, and casting the reins upon his bristly neck, he had let drive.
-
-Shocked beyond expression by the dreadful roar and flash (it was now
-night) Ned had made a mad rush through the woods. In vain; for
-Blount had a good seat. Then had there come into Ned's wily brain the
-reminiscence of a trick that he had never known to fail in thirty years.
-He stopped suddenly, still as a gate post, at the same time bracing his
-vertebrae into the similitude of a barrel hoop, and instantly Blount lay
-sprawling upon his jolly back; and there was a second roar, followed by
-a rush of buckshot among the leaves and around the legs of the audience
-that was watching the rehearsal. "Never mind, Jack," said he to me,
-shortly afterward, "I'll find something that will stand fire" and
-throwing his arm around my shoulder for a confidential talk of the
-slaughter he was to do on the morrow, his sanguine soul bubbled into my
-sympathetic ear:
-
-"I say, Jack, don't tell the boys; but I have got two bags of shot. They
-would laugh, of course. Now, how many ought a fellow to bring down with
-two bags? I mean a cool-headed chap who does not lose his head. How
-does one dozen to the bag strike you? Reasonable? H'm? Of course.
-Twenty-four, then. Well, let us say twenty-five, just to round off
-things. Golly! Why, nine is the highest score I ever made. Twenty-five!
-Why, that is a quarter of a hundred. Did you notice that? Whee-ew! The
-boys will stop bedeviling me after that, h'm? I should say so. Not a
-rascal of them all ever killed so many. Cool and steady, that's the
-thing, my boy. Up he jumps! What of that? Don't be flustered, I tell
-you. Count ten. Then lower your gun. There is not the least hurry in the
-world. Drop the muzzle on his side, just behind his shoulder. Steady!
-Let him think you are not after deer this morning. If it is a doe let it
-appear that you are loaded for buck. Bang! Over he tumbles in his
-tracks. You load up and are off again. Up hops another--a beauty. Same
-tactics--boo-doo-ee! Got him! What's the sense of throwing away your
-shot? Costs money--delays the line. Cool--cool and steady--that's the
-word, my boy. Get any shots to-day? Three? Hit anything?"
-
-It was too dark for him to see how pale I went at this question. "Mr.
-Blount," said I, with a choking in my throat (nobody could help telling
-the big-hearted fellow everything), "you won't tell my father, will
-you?"
-
-"Tell him what?"
-
-"Well, you see, he cautioned me over and over again never, under
-any circumstances, to fire at a deer that ran toward a neighboring
-huntsman."
-
-"Of course not--never!" echoed Blount with conviction.
-
-"And to-day--and to-day, when I was not thinking of such a thing, a big
-buck jumped up from right under my horse's belly, and did you notice
-that gray-headed old gentleman by the fire? Well, the buck rushed
-straight toward him--and I forgot all about what my father had said and
-banged away."
-
-"Did you pepper him?" put in Billy eagerly.
-
-"Pepper him!"
-
-"I mean the buck."
-
-"I don't know, he went on."
-
-"They will do it, occasionally, somehow."
-
-"When I saw the leaves raining down on the old gentleman, my heart
-stopped beating. You will not tell my father?"
-
-"Pshaw! There was no harm done. We must trust to Providence in these
-matters. What did the old gentleman say?"
-
-"Not a word; it was his first campaign, too. His eyes were nearly
-popping out of his head. He let off both barrels. The shot whistled
-around me!"
-
-"The old fool! He ought to know better. To-morrow your father must put
-you next to me."
-
-Blount brought us hilarity and hope, but no luck, at any rate at first.
-When we rode slowly into camp on the following day, just as the sun went
-down, we had one solitary doe to show. Blount--Blount of all men--had
-killed it. The servants hung it up on one of the poles that remained
-from year to year stretched against the neighboring trees.
-
-Owing to Blount's weight his game was always strapped behind some less
-lucky huntsman; so we had had no opportunity of examining his riddled
-quarry.
-
-"Why, how is this?" exclaimed he. "Oh, I remember; the other side was
-toward me."
-
-We went around to the other side. Had the doe died of fright? After
-much searching we found one bullet hole just behind the shoulder. Blount
-always put four extra bullets into his load. So he had showered down
-forty buckshot upon a doe lying in her bed at a distance of twenty feet
-and struck her with one.
-
-"I say, Jack, for the Lord's sake don't tell the boys!"
-
-After these two days our luck improved, and at the end of the hunt our
-score reached seventy-eight; the smallest number, by the way, that the
-club had ever killed. It would hardly be interesting to go into the
-details of each day's sport, but our hero's adventures one night seem
-worth recording. To this joyous and indefatigable spirit the day was all
-too short. No sooner had he eaten his supper each day than he began to
-importune the younger men of the party to join him in a "fire hunt;"
-but, as they were not Blounts, they felt that a long day in the saddle
-was enough. In his despair Blount turned to Beverly. That amiable
-creature, not knowing how to refuse the request of a white gentmun,
-assented, but with a quaking heart, for were not the surrounding forests
-swarming with ravenous wolves? He had often lain awake and listened
-complacently enough to their howling, but to trust, to thrust, himself
-wantonly among them at dead of night!
-
-"Wid nobody along but Marse Billy Blount, an' he couldn't hit nothin',
-even by daylight, onless dey asleep. He hear 'em say wolf 'fraid o'
-fire. Maybe he is. But lights draws dem wild varmints, an' 'sposin'
-arter a whole congregation un 'em done come up starin' at de light;
-'sposin' somehow or nuther de torch got out--whar Beverly den? Marse
-Billy got de gun; but whar Beverly? Ain't I hear people say wolf more
-ambitiouser for nig-gar dan for sheep meat? Howsomever, ef my own
-mahster willin' to resk losin' of me, I can stand it, I reckon. But Tom,
-ef you should wake up, and hear something coming through de bresh like a
-drove o' steers, you needn't ax what dat; it's me and de wolves a-makin'
-for camp; an' me in the lead, wid de help o' de Laud." Sitting in front
-of the blazing logs and chatting with his fellow cooks, Beverly could
-see the humor of his quite real fears.
-
-Behold, then, the burly knight and his dusky and not over-valiant squire
-setting forth in quest of adventure--the one mounted on his tall gray,
-the other astraddle of Ned. It appears incredible that any man in his
-senses would take two such ani-malson such an expedition, but there
-never was but one Blount. Beverly carried the gun, his chief the torch,
-consisting of "lightwood" knots blazing in the bowl of a long-handled
-frying pan. The handle, resting on the right shoulder, was held
-somewhat depressed, so that the light should shine above the head of
-the huntsman, illumining the woods in his front. The sportsman, slowly
-waving the handle to and fro, peers intently into the darkness in quest
-of the gleaming eyes of some staring buck.
-
-Presently a dismal howl from far away to the right came stealing through
-the silence. And presently an answering cry from the left, and much
-nearer. And another, and another! _Ugh! what was that?_ A rabbit had
-darted under Ned, across the rattling leaves. Beverly, shivering, dug
-his heels into Ned's ribs. Ned pressed forward till his nose touched
-the ticklish flank of the gray. The gray let fly with whizzing hoof. Ned
-shut his eyes, unwilling to witness the enormity of an aged mule being
-kicked at by torchlight.
-
-"Beverly! Beverly!" breathed the knight eagerly, "gimme the gun! gimme
-the gun! I see a pair of eyes as big as saucers!"
-
-"M--M--Marse B--B--Billy------------"
-
-"Quick! gimme the gun! What the devil is the matter with you?"
-
-"De wolves, Marse Billy! 'Sposin' arter de gun done empty dey splunge in
-upon us? I bound a whole nation un 'em watchin' us dis minute!"
-
-Blount wrested the gun from the reluctant Beverly, whose knee now
-trembled against his. Pressing down the pan handle so as to throw the
-light well in front, he cocked the gun, adjusted it to his shoulder,
-took aim, and pulled the trigger.
-
-Blount, in reply to the warning of his friends, had urged that it
-might very well be that a horse that shied by day at a gun would act
-differently at night. And he was right. By daylight the gray was in the
-habit of making one or two violent plunges when his rider fired. But
-tonight, when that terrible roar broke the stillness and that fierce
-blaze flashed into his eyes----
-
-Immediately after the sound of the gun reached us we heard the anxious,
-jolting bray of a trotting mule. The disjointed, semi-asinine song came
-nearer, and presently Ned hurried past the fire to his place by his
-tethered mate, with a low equine chuckle of satisfaction. In his wake
-rushed Beverly, panting, wide eyed. It was a full minute before he could
-speak.
-
-"Lord, mahsters, don't ax me nothin'; I don't know nothin' 'bout it.
-I 'most don't know whether I here or no arter de way dem revengious
-varmints whoop me through dem woods, a-yelpin' an' a-gnash-in' o' deir
-teeth. B'fo' Gaud, I thought every minute was gwine to be my next! When
-Marse Billy shoot, though I beg him not to, seein' dat de whole woods
-was a-bilin' wid wolves, dat fool of a horse o' hisn jess riz on
-his hind legs an' splunge right over me an' Ned, jess like we warn't
-nothin''t all. Dem lightwood knots flew right up, same as one o' dem
-blaze o' glories I see when I got religion. I lit on my head. Ned he
-went oneway; Marse Billy horse anudder. But seein' as I done knowed
-Ned de longest, I followed him--an' he fotch me home. Run? No, twarnt
-runnin', twas flyin'; an' every jump de varmints was a-reachin' for me.
-I hear deir teeth, jess as plain, clashin' like sheep shears. Umgh-umgh!
-Beverly hump heself he did. Jess look at my clothes! I left de rest
-of 'em on de bushes. Whar Marse Billy? Lord a-mussy, I dunno! I mighty
-'fraid de wolves done got him, leastwise ef he didn't set hard on dat
-dere fool gray.
-
-"Mahster, couldn't you gimme jess a leetle tetch o' dat whiskey? I'se
-powerful downhearted. Thank you, mahster. But mahster, don't lemme go
-no mo' a spotin' along o' Marse Billy; seem like I ain't dat kind. Lemme
-drive my mules, lemme cook, don't lemme go projickin' about wid Marse
-Billy Blount no mo'. You laughin', is you, Tom? Nemmind--you go next
-time!"
-
-Presently there came to us from far away a doleful yell, with nothing
-of the bugle blast in it. "There he is!" and we made response with
-laughter-choked shouts.
-
-About fifteen minutes afterward the sound of hoofs was heard, and
-presently our mighty hunter appeared, but _quantum mutatus ab illo!_ No
-hat, no gun, one skirt of his coat and half of the buttons gone; shirt
-bosom torn out, trousers hanging in ribbons! But though his face was
-scratched beyond recognition he remained the one, only true Blount in
-the world; though his eyes were bloodshot they beamed with conscious
-victory.
-
-"Boys," said he, "which of you will go and help me bring him in?"
-
-"Bring what in?"
-
-"Why, the buck--I blew his infernal head off, sure!"
-
-Next morning Blount and Beverly rode to the scene of their exploit, and
-Blount secured his gun and Beverly his frying pan. 'The buck had either
-walked off without his head or been swallowed by one of the varmints.
-
-
-
-
-A CAHUTTA VALLEY SHOOTING MATCH, By Will N. Harben
-
-
-[Illustration: 9087]
-
-HERE was a sound of merriment on Farmer Bagley's place. It was "corn
-shucking" night, and the young people from all sides had met to partake
-of mirth and hospitality. After all had taken seats in the large sitting
-room and parlor, the men were invited with a mysterious wink and grin
-from the countenance of jovial Bagley to taste the contents of a large
-brown jug which smiled on a shelf beside the water bucket out in the
-entry. Its saturated corn-cob stopper, lying whiskey colored in the
-moonlight by the side of the jug, gave a most tempting aroma to the
-crisp, invigorating November air and rendered Bagley's signs and hints
-all the more comprehensible.
-
-They were mostly young men who, with clattering boots, filed out to the
-shelf and turned, with smacking lips wiped on their hands, back to the
-clusters of shy, tittering maidens round the blazing log fires. They
-wore new jean trousers neatly folded round muscular calves and stowed
-away, without a visible wrinkle, into high, colored-topped boots with
-sharp, brightly-polished heels, upon which were strapped clanking spurs.
-Their sack coats, worn without vests over low-necked woolen shirts,
-fitted their strong bodies admirably.
-
-Dick Martin, a tall, well-built young man with marked timidity in his
-voice, considerably augmented by the brightness of Melissa Bagley's
-eyes, drew near that young lady and said:
-
-"Yore pap has certainly got some o' the best corn licker in this county,
-Melissa; it liter'ly sets a feller on fire."
-
-"Be ashamed, Dick Martin!" she answered, with a cautious glance around
-her as if she feared that someone would observe the flush that had
-risen into her pretty face as he approached. "Be ashamed o' yorese'f fur
-techin' licker; last log-rollin' you 'lowed you'd tuk yore last dram.
-Paw ort to be churched fur settin' temptation 'fore so many young men.
-Ef I had my way the' wouldn't be a still, wild cat nur licensed, in the
-Co-hutta Mountains nowhar."
-
-"Shucks, Melissa!" exclaimed Dick. "Don't git yore dander up 'bout
-nothin'. I'm that anxious to git yore pap on my side I'd drink slop,
-mighty high, ef he 'uz to ax me. He don't like me, an' blame me ef I
-know why, nuther. I ain't been here in the last three Sunday nights
-'thout him a-callin' you to bed most 'fore dark. He didn't raise no
-objections to Bill Miller a-stayin' tell 'leven o'clock last Tuesday
-night. Oh, I ain't blind to hurt! Bill owns his own land and I havn't
-a shovelful; thar's the difference. He's a-comin' now, but mind you I'm
-agwine to set by you at shuckin'."
-
-The bright flush which had added such beauty to the girl's face vanished
-as Bill Miller swaggered up and said with a loud voice, as he roughly
-shook her hand:
-
-"Meliss', kin I wait on you at shuckin'?"
-
-"Dick's jest this minute axed me," she stammered, beginning to blush
-anew.
-
-"Well, he ain't axed to set on both sides uv you, I reckon. You'd be a
-uncommon quar pusson ef the' wuz jest one side to you. What's to keep me
-frum settin' on tother side frum Dick?"
-
-To this the farmer's daughter made no reply, and as the guests were now
-starting to the barnyard she was escorted between the two rivals to the
-great coneshaped heap of unhusked corn gleaming in the pale moonlight.
-
-"All keep yore feet an' form a ring round the pile!" called out Bagley,
-so as to be overheard above the sound of their voices. "The' ain't no
-r'al fun 'thout everything is conducted fa'r and squar'. Now" (as all
-the merrymakers stood hand in hand round the corn heap, Dick with one of
-Melissa's hands in his tight clasp and his rival with the other)--"now,
-all march round an' somebody start 'King William Wuz King James' Son,'
-an' when I tell you to halt set down right whar' you are. I'm a-doin'
-this 'kase at Wade's last week some fellers hid red yeers o' corn nigh
-the'r places an' wuz etarnally a-kissin' o' the gals, which ain't fa'r
-nur decent. The rule on this occasion shall be as common, in regard to
-the fust feller that finds a red yeer o'corn bein' 'lowed to kiss any
-gal he likes, but atter that one time--understand everybody--atter
-that no bussin' kin take place, red yeer ur no red yeer. I advocate
-moderation in all things, especially whar' a man an' woman's mouth is
-con-sarned."
-
-While the musical tones of the familiar song were rising, and the straw
-beneath the feet of the human chain was rustling, Bagley called aloud
-the word: "Halt!" and all sat down immediately and went to work with
-a will. Song after song was sung. The hard, pearly silk-tipped ears of
-corn flew through the air and rained into the crib near at hand, and
-billows of husks rolled up behind the eager workers and were raked away
-by negroes who were not permitted to take part in the sport.
-
-"Here's a red un, by hunky!" yelled out a sunburnt, downy-faced youth,
-standing up and holding aloft a small ear of blood-red corn.
-
-"Hold on thar!" shouted Bagley in commanding tones. "The rules must be
-enforced to the letter. Jim Lash, ef yore yeer measures full six inches
-ye're the lucky man, but ef it falls short o' that size its a nubbin an'
-don't count."
-
-An eager group encircled the young man, but soon a loud laugh rose and
-they all fell back into their places, for the ear had proved to be only
-five inches in length.
-
-"Not yit, Jimmy Lash; not yit," grunted Dick Martin, as he raked an
-armful of unhusked corn into his and Melissa's laps. Then to Melissa
-in an undertone: "Ef wishin' 'u'd do any good, I'd be the fust to run
-acrost one, fur, by jingo! the' ain't a livin' man, Melissa, that could
-want it as bad as I do with you a-settin' so handy. By glory! [aloud]
-here she is, as red as sumac an' as long as a rollin' pin. The Lord be
-praised!" He had risen to his feet and stood holding up the trophy for
-Bagley's inspection, fairly aglow with triumph and exercise.
-
-The rustling in the corn husks ceased. All eyes were directed upon
-the erect forms of Dick Martin and Farmer Bagley. The clear moonlight
-revealed an unpleasant expression on the older man's face in vivid
-contrast to the cast of the younger's. Bagley seemed rather slow to form
-a decision; all present suspected the cause of his hesitation.
-
-"Fair's fair, Bagley!" called out an old farmer outside of the circle.
-"Don't belittle yorese'f by 'lowin' anything o' a personal natur' to
-come in an' influence you ag'in right. Dick Martin's the fust an' is
-entitled to the prize."
-
-"Yore right, Wilson," admitted Bagley, with his eyes downcast. "Dick
-Martin is the winner an' kin proceed; howsomever, thar's some things
-that----"
-
-               Salute yore bride an' kiss her sweet,
-
-               Now you may rise upon yore feet!
-
-sang the leader of the singers, completely drowning the remainder of
-Bagley's sentence. As quick as a flash of lightning Dick had thrown his
-arm round struggling Melissa and imprinted a warm kiss on her lips. Then
-the workers applauded vociferously, and Melissa sat, suffused with
-crimson, between sullen Bill Miller and beaming Dick Martin. Bagley
-showed plainly that Dick's action and the applause of all had roused his
-dislike for Dick even deeper than ever.
-
-"I'm knowed to be a man o' my word," he fumed, white in the face and
-glancing round the ring of upturned faces. "I'm firm as firm kin be,
-I mought say as the rock o' Bralty, when I take a notion. I've heerd a
-leetle o' the talk in this settlement 'mongst some o' the meddlin' sort,
-an' fur fear this leetle accident mought add to the'r tattle I'd jest
-like to remark that ef thar's a man on the top side o' the earth that
-knows what's to be done with his own flesh an' blood it ort to be me.
-What's been the talk ain't so, not a speck of it. I've got somethin' to
-say to----"
-
-"Paw!" expostulated Melissa, almost crying.
-
-"Mr. Bagley--I say, Abrum Bagley, don't make a born fool o' yorese'f,"
-broke in Mrs. Bagley, as she waddled into the circle and laid her hand
-heavily upon her husband's arm. "Now, folks, it's about time you wuz
-gittin' somethin' warm into you. You kin finish the pile atter you've
-eat. Come on, all hands, to the house!"
-
-A shadow of mortification fell athwart Dick's honest face as soon as
-Bagley had spoken. His sensitive being was wounded to the core. As he
-and Melissa walked back to the farm house together, Bill Miller having
-dropped behind to gossip with someone over Bagley's remarks, he was
-silent, and timid Melissa was too shy to break the silence, although it
-was very painful to her.
-
-Reaching the entrance to the farm house, Dick held back and refused to
-enter with the others.
-
-"Ain't you gwine to come in an' have some supper?" Melissa asked,
-pleadingly.
-
-"I ain't a-goin' narry nuther step. Anything cooked in this house would
-stick in my throat atter what's been said. He struck me a underhanded
-lick. I won't force myse'f on 'im nur to his table."
-
-"I think you mought, bein' as I axed you," said she tremblingly, as she
-shrank into the honeysuckle vines that clung to the latticework of the
-entry.
-
-"No, blame me ef I do!" he answered firmly. "I'm of as good stock as
-anybody in this county; nobody cayn't run no bull yearlin' dry shod over
-me."
-
-All Melissa could do could not induce him to join the others in the
-dining room, and when he walked angrily away she ran into her own room,
-and sitting down in the darkness alone she burst into a flood of tears.
-After supper the guests repaired again to the corn heap, but Melissa was
-not among them, and the spirits of all seemed somewhat dampened.
-
-After that night Dick Martin and Melissa Bagley did not meet each other
-for several days. However, on the Sunday following the corn shucking, as
-Melissa was returning from meeting through the woods alone, the very one
-who was uppermost in her troubled mind joined her. He emerged from the
-thick-growing bushes which skirted her path, with a very pale face and
-unhappy mien.
-
-"I jest couldn't wait another minute, Melissa," he said, standing
-awkwardly before her, "not ef I had to be shot fur it."
-
-"Paw's mighty stubborn an' contrary when he takes a notion," she said,
-with hanging head and an embarrassed kick of her foot at a tuft of
-grass. "I think he mought let me alone. You ain't the only one he hates.
-Thar's ol' man Lawson; law, he hates him wuss'n canker! I heerd 'im say
-tother day ef somebody 'u'd jest beat Lawson shootin' next match he'd be
-his friend till death. He ain't never got over his lawsuit with Lawson
-over the sheep our dog killed. Paw fit it in court through three terms,
-an' then had to give in an' settle the claim an' all the costs besides.
-It mighty nigh broke im. Fur the last five years Lawson has driv home
-the prize beef from the fall match, an' every time paw jest fairly
-shakes with madness over it."
-
-When Dick left Melissa at the bars in sight of her house and turned
-toward his home a warm idea was tingling in his brain, and by the time
-he had reached his father's cottage he was fairly afire with it. The
-shooting match was to take place in a month--what was to prevent him
-from taking part in it? He had an excellent rifle, and had done some
-good shooting at squirrels. Perhaps if he would practice a good deal
-he might win. Lawson was deemed the best marksman in all the Cohutta
-valleys, and frequently it had been hard to get anyone to enter a match
-against him. Dick at last decided to enter the forthcoming match at
-all events. He went into his cottage and took down his rifle from its
-deer-horn rack over the door. While he was eyeing the long, rusty barrel
-critically his old mother entered.
-
-"Fixin' fur a hunt, Dick? Thar's a power o' pa'tridges in the sage
-field down the hollar. A rifle ain't as good fur that sort o' game as a
-shotgun; suppose you step over an' ax Hanson to loan you his'n?"
-
-"I jest 'lowed I'd shine this un up a bit bein' as it's Sunday an' I
-hate to be idle," he answered, evasively, as he seated himself at the
-wide fireplace with a pan of grease and a piece of cloth and rubbed his
-gun barrel until it fairly shone in the firelight. The next morning he
-threw it over his shoulder and, taking an axe in his hand, he started
-toward the woods.
-
-"Didn't know but I mought find a bee tree somers," he said sheepishly,
-as he saw his mother looking wonderingly at the axe. "Not likely, but
-I mought, thar's no tellin', though the darn little varmints do keep
-powerful close hid this time o' year."
-
-He went over the hills and through the tangled woods until he came to
-a secluded old field. He singled out a walnut tree near its centre, and
-going to it he cut a square white spot in the bark with his axe. It is
-needless to detail all that took place there that day, or on other days
-following it. For the first week the earnest fellow would return from
-this spot each afternoon with a very despondent look upon him. As time
-passed, however, and his visits to the riddled tree grew more frequent
-his face began to grow brighter.
-
-Once his mother came suddenly upon him as he stood in the cottage before
-the open door with his rifle placed in position for firing. He lowered
-his gun with a deep blush.
-
-"I 'us jest a tryin' to see how long I could keep the sight on that shiny
-spot out thar in the field without flinchin'. Blame me, ef you hadn't
-come in I believe I could a helt her thar tell it thundered."
-
-"Dick," said the old woman, with a deep breath, "what on earth has got
-in you here lately? Are you gwine plump stark crazy 'bout that old gun?
-You never tuk on that way before."
-
-"I've jest found out I'm purty good on a shot, that's all," he replied,
-evasively.
-
-"Well," said she, "as fur as that's concerned, in old times our stock
-was reckoned to be the best marksmen in our section. You ort to be; yore
-narrer 'twixt the eyes, an' that's a shore sign."
-
-Dick caught a glimpse of Melissa now and then, and managed to exchange
-a few words with her occasionally, the nature of which we will not
-disclose. It may be said, however, that she was always in good spirits,
-which puzzled her father considerably, for he was at a loss to see why
-she should be so when Dick had not visited her since the night of the
-corn shucking. Moreover, she continually roused her father's anger by
-speaking frequently of the great honor that belonged to Farmer Lawson
-for so often Winning the prizes in the shooting matches.
-
-"Dang it, Melissa, dry up!" he exclaimed, boiling with anger, "you know
-I hate that daddrated man. I'd fling my hat as high as the moon ef some
-o' these young bucks 'u'd beat him this fall; he's as full o' brag as a
-lazy calf is with fleas."
-
-"No use a hopin' fur anything o' that sort, paw; Lawson's too old a
-han'. He ain't got his equal at shootin' ur lawin.' The whole country
-couldn't rake up a better one." After speaking in this manner she would
-stifle a giggle by holding her hand over her mouth until she was livid
-in the face, and escape from her mystified parent, leaving him to vent
-his spleen on the empty air.
-
-The day of the annual shooting match drew near. It was not known who
-were to be the participants aside from Lawson, for the others usually
-waited till the time arrived to announce their intentions. No better
-day could have been chosen. The sky was blue and sprinkled with frothy
-clouds, and the weather was not unpleasantly cold. Women and men, boys,
-girls and children from all directions were assembled to witness the
-sport and were seated in chairs and wagons all over the wide, open
-space.
-
-Melissa was there in a cluster of girls, and her father was near by in
-a group of men, all of whom--like himself--disliked the blustering,
-boasting Lawson and fondly hoped that someone would beat him on this
-occasion. Lawson stood by himself, with a confident smile on his face.
-His rifle butt rested on the grass and his hands were folded across each
-other on the end of his gun barrel.
-
-"Wilks," said he to the clerk of the county court, who had been chosen
-as referee for the occasion, "git up yore list o' fellers that are bold
-enough to shoot agin the champion. I reckon my nerves are 'bout as they
-wuz six yeer ago when I fust took my stan' here to larn this settlement
-how to shoot."
-
-Just before the list of aspirants was read aloud Dick managed to reach
-Melissa's side unobserved by her father.
-
-"Did you keep yore promise 'bout cut-tin' my patchin' fur me?" he asked
-in a whisper.
-
-With trembling fingers she drew from her pocket several little pieces
-of white cotton cloth about the size of a silver quarter of a dollar and
-gave them to him.
-
-"They're jest right to a gnat's heel," he said, warmly. "A ball packed
-in one o' them'll go straight ur I'm no judge."
-
-"Dick," whispered she, looking him directly in the eyes, "you ain't a
-bit flustered. I believe you'll win."
-
-With a smile Dick turned away and joined the crowd round the referee's
-chair, and when his name was called a moment later among the names of
-four others he brought his rifle from a wagon and stood in view of
-the crowd. The first applause given that day was accorded him, for in
-addition to its being his first appearance in a shooting match he was
-universally popular.
-
-"Bully fur you, Dick; here's my han' wishing you luck!" said a
-cheery-voiced farmer, shaking Dick's hand.
-
-"It's the way with all these young strips," said Lawson in a loud,
-boastful tone. "Gwine to conquer the whole round world. He'll grin on
-tother side o' his mouth when Bettie, the lead queen, barks and spits in
-the very centre o' that spot out yander."
-
-A feeble murmur of admiration greeted this vaunting remark, but it
-quickly subsided as the crowd noted that Dick Martin did not reply even
-by so much as to raise his eyes from the inspection of his gun. The
-referee called for order.
-
-"Jim Baker," said he, "be so kind as to drive round yore stall-fed
-heifer. Ladies an' gentlemen [as a man emerged from a group of wagons
-and drove a fine-looking young cow into the open space], here's a heifer
-in fine enough order to make any man's eyes sore to look. Fifteen round
-dollars has been paid in, by the five men who are to burn powder
-to-day, $3 apiece, an' the man whose shootin' iron can fling lead
-the straightest on this occasion is entitled to the beef and the
-championship o' this valley till next fall. Now, Mr. Baker, lead out
-yore cow, an' the shooters will please form in a line."
-
-When the aspirants stood in front of him the referee continued:
-
-"Here is five pieces o' straw, all different lengths. The man who gets
-the shortest one shoots fust, the next longest next, an' so on till
-you've all had yore crack."
-
-Passing the straws to the riflemen, and af ter they had drawn one each
-from his tightly closed hands, he ordered a man to set up the target--a
-planed plank, about one foot in width and six in length, with a round
-marked spot about three inches in diameter, near the top.
-
-"I'd willin'ly give my chance o' oats to have some o' them boys knock
-the stuffin' clean out'n Lawson; he's that stuck up he cayn't hardly
-walk," said Bagley, his anger intensified by observing the sneering
-smile on Lawson's face.
-
-"I'm mighty afeard," said the man to whom Bagley was speaking, "that
-Dick Martin 'll lose his $3. I never heerd o' him bein' any han' with a
-gun."
-
-To this Bagley offered no reply. In his hatred for Lawson, and at such a
-time he had no thought to give to Dick.
-
-"All ready!" rang out the voice of the referee. "Bob Ransom gits the
-first pull at trigger to-day."
-
-Silence fell on the crowd as the tall, slender young man stepped forth
-and stood with his left foot on a line cut in the grass exactly 100
-yards from the tree against which the yellow board with its single eye
-leaned in the sunbeams. Not a whisper escaped the motionless assembly as
-the young man slowly brought his weapon into position. "Crack!" sounded
-the rifle out of a balloon-shaped cloud of blue smoke.
-
-"Missed centre, board, tree an' all!" cried out Bagley, in a tone of
-deep regret.
-
-"I seed yore lead plough up the dirt away out tother side; it's powerful
-hard to hold a steady han' when you are fust called on."
-
-"Next is Taylor Banks!" announced the referee; and as a middle-aged man
-advanced and toed the mark, Lawson was heard to say, with a loud laugh;
-"Fust one missed the tree; you folks on the left out thar 'u'd better
-set back fur-der; no tellin' who Banks 'll hit, fur he's a-tremblin'
-like so much jelly."
-
-"Hit about three inches due north o' the spot," called out the referee,
-as the smoke rose from the peering marksman. "I'm afraid, Tayl', that
-somebody 'll come nigher than that when the pinch comes. Joe Burk is the
-next, an' I'll take occasion to say here that I know of no man in all
-this mountain country that is more prompt to pay his taxes."
-
-"Crack!" A universal bending of necks to get the target in better view
-and a rolling billow of voices in the crowd.
-
-"A inch an' a half below the spot!" proclaimed the referee. "Why,
-friends, what ails you all? This ain't nigh such shootin' as we had last
-fall. Too many women present, I reckon. Ladies, if you'll cover up yore
-faces maybe the next two will do better. The straws say that Abraham
-Lawson has the next whack. Lawson, make yore bow."
-
-The champion of the settlement stepped into view with a haughty strut,
-dragging his rifle butt on the ground and swinging his broad-brimmed
-hat carelessly in his hand. Turning to a negro behind him as he took his
-place, he said so that all could hear:
-
-"Tobe, git yore rope ready an' stan' over thar nigh the beef. When you
-git 'er home turn 'er in the pastur'. Ef this thing goes on year atter
-year I'll start a cattle ranch an' quit farmin'."
-
-"Dang his hide!" exclaimed Bagley to Melissa, who was very pale and
-quite speechless. "Dang it, I'd lay this here right arm on any man's
-meat block an' give 'im leave to chop it off ef he'd jest git beat. He's
-that spiled flies is on 'im."
-
-Lawson's hat was now on the grass at his feet and he had deliberately
-raised his brightly-polished weapon to his broad shoulder. The sun
-glittered on the long steel tube. The silence for an instant was so
-profound that the birds could be heard singing in the woods and the
-cawing of the crows in the corn fields near by sounded harsh to the ear.
-For an instant the sturdy champion stood as if molded in metal, his
-long hair falling over his gun stock, against which his tanned cheek was
-closely pressed. Not a sound passed the lips of the assembly, and when
-the rifle report came it sent a twinge to many a heart.
-
-"Dang it!" ejaculated Lawson, as he lowered his gun and peered through
-the rising smoke toward the target. "I felt a unsteady quiver tech me
-jest as I pulled the trigger."
-
-"About half an inch from the very centre o' the mark. Yore ahead. Nobody
-is likely to come up to you, Lawson," said the referee. "The' ain't but
-one more."
-
-"I don't keer," replied Lawson. "I know the cow's mine; but I did want
-to come up to my record. I walked too fast over here an' it made me
-unsteady."
-
-"The next an' last candidate for glory," said the referee, "is Dick
-Martin. No cheerin', friends, it ain't been give to the others and you
-oughtn't to show partiality. Besides, it might excite him, an' he needs
-all the nerve he's got."
-
-Bagley was still at Melissa's side. He had his eyes too intently fixed
-on the stalwart form of Dick Martin and the young man's pale, determined
-visage to note that his daughter had covered her pale face with her
-cold, trembling hands and bowed her head.
-
-"By Jinks! he's the coolest cucumber that's lifted shootin' iron
-to-day," said Bagley under his breath. "Ef he beats Lawson dagg me if I
-don't give him a dance in my barn an' invite every man, woman an' child
-in the whole valley." With his left foot on the mark and his right
-thrown back easily, as if he were taking a step forward, and his
-well-formed body bent slightly toward the target, Dick stood motionless,
-sighting along his gun barrel at the target. Then, to the surprise of
-all, he raised his gun until it pointed to the top of the tree against
-which the target leaned. Here a gentle sigh, born from the union of half
-surprise and half disappointment, swept over the crowd as low as the
-whisper of a breeze through a dry foliaged tree. The sigh died away and
-intense silence claimed the moment, for the gun's point was sweeping
-rapidly downward. Hardly a second did it pause in a line with the
-target's centre before the report came, putting every breast in sudden
-motion. The marker's eyes saw a clean splinter fly from the very centre
-of the round.
-
-"The beef is won by Dick Martin!" loudly proclaimed the referee.
-
-"Whoopee! Glory! Glory!" The shout was from the lips of Bagley, and
-in an instant he had stridden across to Dick with outstretched hand.
-"Glory, Glory! Dick!" he exclaimed; "le'me have a hold o' yore fist.
-Tell judgment day I'm yore friend. I've said some sneakin' underhand
-things about you that's hurt yore feelin's an' I want to ax yore pardon.
-Dang it! I cayn't harbor no ill will agin a feller that's beat Abrum
-Lawson a-shootin'. Thank goodness you've fetched his kingdom to a end!"
-
-When down-fallen Lawson had slunk away unnoticed from the enthusiastic
-crowd who were eager to congratulate Dick, Bagley came up to him and
-said:
-
-"Dick, le'me have the honor o' drivin' the prize home fur you. Fur some
-reason ur other you didn't stay to supper with us corn-shuckin' night;
-Melissa's a waitin' fur you out thar in the bresh to ax you to come
-home with us to-night. By glory, Tobe," turning to Lawson's negro, "this
-yer's the same identical beef Lawson ordered you to drive home an' put
-in his pastur', ain't it? Well, you jest tell 'im his friend Bagley tuk
-the job off'n yore han's."
-
-[Illustration: 0105]
-
-
-
-
-MOERAN'S MOOSE--A HUNTING STORY, By Ed. W. Sandys.
-
-
-|ONE of the best fellows among the hardy lot who have ran the trails
-and paddled the lonely tributaries of the tipper Ottawa was Moeran.
-No bolder sportsman ever went into the woods, and few, or none of the
-guides or professional hunters could rival his skill with rifle or
-paddle. The tough old "Leatherstockings" fairly idolized him, for he
-got his game as they did, by straight shooting, perfect woodcraft, and
-honest hard work; and most of them, while they usually charged a heavy
-price for their services, would have gladly thrown in their lots with
-him for an outing of a month or more, and asked nothing save what he
-considered a fair division of the spoils. He was also a keen observer
-and a close student of the ways of bird and beast. The real pleasure of
-sport seemed to him to lie in the fact that it brought him very near to
-nature, and permitted him to pore at will over that marvelous open page
-which all might read if they chose, yet which few pause to study. His
-genial disposition and long experience made him ever a welcome and
-valuable companion afield or afloat, and the comrades he shot with
-season after season would have as soon gone into the woods without their
-rifles as without Moeran. Physically, he was an excellent type of the
-genuine sportsman. Straight and tall, and strongly made, his powerful
-arms could make a paddle spring, if need be, or his broad shoulders bear
-a canoe or pack over a portage that taxed even the rugged guides; and
-his long limbs could cover ground in a fashion that made the miles seem
-many and long to whoever tramped a day with him.
-
-And this was the kind of man that planned a trip for a party of four
-after the lordly moose. Moeran had, until that year, never seen a wild
-moose free in his own forest domain, and needless to say he was
-keenly anxious to pay his respects to the great king of the Canadian
-wilderness. He had been in the moose country many times while fishing
-or shooting in the provinces of New Brunswick, Quebec, Ontario and
-Manitoba; he had seen the slots of the huge deer about pool and stream,
-on beaver meadow and brule; he had spent more than one September night
-"calling," with a crafty Indian to simulate the plaintive appeals of
-a love-lorn cow; he had heard the great bulls answer from the distant
-hills--had heard even the low, grunting inquiry a bull moose generally
-makes ere emerging from the last few yards of shadowy cover, and
-revealing himself in all his mighty strength and pride in the moonlit
-open. More than once he had lain quivering with excitement and hardly
-daring to breathe, close-hidden in a little clump of scrub, about which
-stretched full forty yards of level grass on every side--lain so for an
-hour with every nerve strained to the ready, with ears striving to catch
-the faintest sound on the stillness of the night, and with eyes sweeping
-warily over the expanse of moonlit grass and striving vainly to pierce
-the black borders of forest, somewhere behind which his royal quarry was
-hidden. Upon such occasions he had lain and listened and watched until
-he fancied he could see the moose standing silently alert among the
-saplings, with ears shifting to and fro and with keen nose searching the
-air ceaselessly for trace of his mortal enemy. The occasional distant
-rattle of broad antlers against the trees as the big brute shook himself
-or plunged about in lusty strength had sounded on his ears, followed
-by the faint sounds of cautiously advancing footsteps seemingly bent
-straight toward the ambush. Then would follow a long agonizing pause,
-and then a snap of a twig or a faint rustling told that the crafty bull
-was stealing in a circle through the cover around the open space before
-venturing upon such dangerous ground.
-
-[Illustration: 0108]
-
-At last a deathlike silence for many minutes, and then a faint, far snap
-of twigs and "wish" of straightening branches as the great bull stole
-away to his forested hills, having read in breeze or on ground a
-warning of the foe concealed in the harmless scrub. All these were
-disappointments, but not necessarily bitter ones. The long night-vigils
-were after all rarely spent entirely in vain, for each brought to him
-some new ideas, or let him a little further into the dark mysteries of
-the great wild world's nightly moods and methods. The skilled craft of
-his Indian "caller;" the strange voices of the night that came to his
-ears, telling of the movements of creatures but seldom seen or heard by
-day, were full of interest to a genuine woodsman. And then the fierce
-though subdued excitement of the weird watch for the huge beast that
-never came, and yet might come at any moment full into the silvery
-moonlight from out the black belt of silent wood--these were each
-fascinating to such a nature as his. But still he had never once seen
-his long-looked-for game, though several seasons had slipped away and
-the month of July, 18----, had come and half passed by. Then Moeran
-got ready his fishing tackle and camping gear and vowed to find a good
-district for the party to shoot over the coming season, even if he had
-to remain in the woods an entire month. Right well he knew some of the
-likeliest points in New Brunswick, Quebec and Manitoba, the eastern
-portion of the latter province being the best moose country now
-available, but none of them met the requirements of the party, and so he
-decided to go into northern Ontario and prospect until he found what he
-sought.
-
-In the region of the upper Ottawa River, and in the wild lands about the
-Mattawa River and about the lakes forming its headwaters, is a country
-beloved of moose. Thither went Moe-ran, satisfied that his quest would
-not be in vain. Early in the third week of July he and his Peterboro
-canoe and outfit reached the railway station of North Bay, on the shore
-of noble Lake Nipissing. While awaiting the arrival of the guide and
-team for the next stage of his journey, he put rod together and strolled
-out on the long pier which extends for a considerable distance into the
-lake. Reaching the farther end and looking down into the clear, green
-depths below, he saw watchful black bass skulking in the shadows, and
-lazy pickerel drifting hither and thither, in and out, among the great
-piles which supported the pier. To tempt a few of these to their doom
-was an easy task, and soon the lithe rod was arching over a game black
-gladiator and a master hand was meeting every desperate struggle of a
-fighting fish, or slowly raising a varlet pickerel to his inglorious
-death. In time a hail announced the arrival of the team, and after
-presenting his captives to the few loungers on the pier, he busied
-himself stowing canoe and outfit upon the wagon.
-
-Their objective point was on the shore of Trout Lake, a lovely sheet
-of water distant from Nipissing about four miles. The road was in many
-places extremely bad and the team made slow progress, but there was
-plenty of time to spare and about noon they reached the lake. The guide,
-as guides are given to do, lied cheerfully and insistently every yard
-of the way, about the beauty of the lake, the countless deer and grouse
-upon its shores, the gigantic fish within its ice-cold depths, the game
-he, and parties he had guided, had killed, and the fish they had caught.
-He did well with these minor subjects, but when he touched upon moose
-and bear he rose to the sublime, and lied with a wild abandon which made
-Moeran seriously consider the advantage of upsetting the canoe later
-on and quietly drowning him. But he was not so far astray in his
-description of the lake. It formed a superb picture, stretching its
-narrow length for a dozen miles between huge, rolling, magnificently
-wooded hills, while here and there lovely islands spangled its silver
-breast. After a hurried lunch they launched the good canoe, the guide
-insisting upon taking his rifle, as, according to his story, they were
-almost certain to see one or more bear. The guide proved that he could
-paddle almost as well as he could lie, and the two of them drove the
-light craft along like a scared thing, the paddles rising and falling,
-flashing and disappearing, with that beautiful, smooth, regular sweep
-that only experts can give. For mile after mile they sped along, until
-at last they neared the farther end of the lake, where the huge hills
-dwindled to mere scattered mounds, between which spread broad beaver
-meadows, the nearest of them having a pond covering many acres near its
-center. All about this pond was a dense growth of tall water-grasses,
-and in many places these grasses extended far into the water which was
-almost covered, save a few open leads, with the round, crowding leaves
-of the water-lily. A channel, broad and deep enough to float the canoe,
-connected this pond with the lake, and, as the locality was an ideal
-summer haunt for moose, Moeran decided to investigate it thoroughly
-and read such "sign" as might be found. Landing noiselessly, he and the
-guide changed places, Moeran kneeling, forward, with the rifle on the
-bottom of the canoe in front of him, where he alone could reach it.
-"Now," he whispered, "you know the route and how to paddle; work her up
-as if a sound would cost your life. I'll do the watching."
-
-[Illustration: 0112]
-
-Slowly, silently, foot by foot, and sometimes inch by inch, the canoe
-stole up the currentless channel, the guide never raising his paddle,
-but pushing with it cautiously against the soft bottom and lily-roots.
-It was a good piece of canoe work, worthy even of Moeran's noted skill,
-and he thoroughly appreciated it. By motions of his hand he indicated
-when to halt and advance, while his eyes scanned sharply every yard of
-marsh revealed by the windings of the channel. Not the slightest sound
-marked their progress until they had almost entered the open water in
-the center of the pond, and were creeping past the last fringe of tall
-grass. Suddenly Moeran's hand signaled a halt, and the canoe lost its
-slow, forward motion. He looked and looked, staring fixedly at a point
-some twenty yards distant, where the growth of grass was thin and short
-and the lily-pads denser than usual, and as he gazed with a strange
-concentration, a wild light flashed in his eyes until they fairly blazed
-with exultant triumph. Straight before him among the faded greens and
-bewildering browns of the lily-pads was a motionless, elongated brown
-object very like the curved back of a beaver, and a foot or more from
-it, in the shadow of a clump of grass, something shone with a peculiar
-liquid gleam. It was an eye--a great, round, wild eye--staring full into
-his own--the eye of a moose--and the curving object like the back of
-a beaver was naught else than the enormous nose, or muffle, of a
-full-grown bull. Something like a sigh came from it, and then it slowly
-rose higher and higher until the head and neck were exposed. The big
-ears pointed stiffly forward, and the nose twitched and trembled for an
-instant as it caught the dreaded taint; then with a mighty floundering
-and splashing the great brute struggled to his feet. It was a grewsome
-spectacle to see this uncouth creature uprise from a place where it
-seemed a muskrat could hardly have hidden. For a few seconds he stood
-still.
-
-[Illustration: 0116]
-
-"Shoot! Shoot!"
-
-Moeran simply picked up the rifle and brought it level.
-
-"Load! 'Tain't loaded--the lever--quick!"
-
-He made no response, merely covered, first the point of the shoulder and
-then the ear, and then, as the bull plunged for the shore, he covered
-the shoulder twice more, then lowered the rifle, while a horribly
-excited guide cursed and raved and implored by turns in vain. And just
-how great was the temptation was never known, but it certainly would
-have proved irresistible to most men who call themselves sportsmen. In
-speaking about it afterward Moeran said: "It would have been a crime
-to have murdered the beast under such conditions, and out of season. I
-covered him fair four times, and could have dropped him dead where he
-stood--but we'll attend to them later on." For there were, in all, four
-moose in the pond, and, shortly after the big bull commenced his noisy
-retreat, a tremendous splashing and plunging from the other side of the
-pond attracted their attention. They turned just in time to see a grand
-old cow and two younger moose struggle through the last few yards of
-mud and water, and then crash their way into the cover at the rapid,
-pounding trot peculiar to the species.
-
-Moeran's mission had been accomplished much easier than was expected,
-and he certainly had discovered a most promising locality for the trip
-with his friends. After a day spent fishing, he departed homeward,
-leaving his canoe and camp outfit in charge of the guide, whom he also
-bound by most solemn pledge neither to betray the secret of the beaver
-meadow, nor to molest the moose himself, before Moeran and his friends
-returned in time for the first lawful day.
-
-The last day of the close season saw the party and the guide snugly
-encamped at a point half-way down the lake. His three friends had
-unanimously agreed that Moeran should have the honor of visiting the
-beaver meadow first, and alone if he desired. He was the surest shot and
-by far the best hand at this sort of business, and he had discovered the
-moose, while all hands knew how keen he was to secure a head to his own
-rifle. So at earliest dawn Moeran put lunch and rifle into his
-shapely Peterboro and sped noiselessly away through the ghostly vapors
-curtaining the sleeping lake, and they saw him no more for many hours.
-The guide had questioned the others about their comrade's shooting (of
-his ability at the paddle he had somewhat sorrowful remembrance), and
-then, strange to say, had advised Moeran to go alone.
-
-"So much more glory for you," he said, "and I'll look after these other
-gentlemen and give them a day's fishing." But his manner was shifty, and
-Moeran mistrusted him.
-
-In due time he reached the little channel leading to the beaver meadow,
-and, as the sun lifted clear of the distant hills, he began working his
-way to the pond. He hardly expected to find the moose there then, but he
-had made up his mind to steal into the high grass and hide and watch all
-day, if necessary, and, at all events, study the thing out thoroughly.
-As the sun rose higher a brisk breeze sprang up, but as it came from the
-woods toward his station he did not mind, although it would have been
-fatal to his chance, probably, had it come from any other point of
-the compass. Presently his nose detected a strong, sickening odor of
-carrion, which, in time, as the breeze gained force, became almost
-overpowering, and he started to investigate. Paddling straight up-wind
-he came at last to a small pool, and the trouble was explained. The
-half-decomposed body of a full-grown cow moose lay in the pool and
-Moeran muttered savagely his opinion of all such butchery when he saw
-that not even the feet had been taken for trophies. Then he poled his
-canoe to the edge of the meadow and scouted carefully entirely round the
-open, seeking for any possible sign of the remainder of the quartet.
-To his utter disgust he found the remains of another moose, one of the
-younger animals, lying just within the borders of the cover, and, as in
-the other case, the butcher had not troubled himself to take away any
-portion of his victim. Moeran understood, of course, that the guide
-had played him false, and if that worthy had been present he might have
-seriously regretted his wrong-doing, for he it was who had guided a
-learned and honorable (?) American judge to the sanctuary of the moose
-a month previously, and, for a consideration of twenty-five dollars,
-enabled his patron to gratify his taste for the shambles.
-
-Moeran's careful search discovered no fresh sign, and he made up his
-mind that the two survivors, the old bull and the yearling, had fled the
-scene and had probably sought another expanse of beaver meadow and ponds
-the guide had mentioned as being about ten miles from Trout Lake. Moeran
-knew that some sort of a trail led thither, and he resolved to find it
-and follow it to the end and endeavor to locate the moose.
-
-Of the ensuing long, hard day's work it will be unnecessary to speak in
-detail.
-
-At nine o'clock that night his three friends sat near their roaring
-camp-fire on the lake shore, wondering at his protracted absence. The
-guide had turned in an hour previous, but the three were anxious, so
-they sat and smoked, and discussed the question, piling great drift-logs
-on their fire till it roared and cracked in fierce exultation and leaped
-high in air to guide the wanderer home. Its long, crimson reflection
-stretched like a pathway of flame far over the black waters of the lake,
-and the three sat and waited, now glancing along this glowing path, anon
-conversing in subdued tones. The lake was as still and dark as a lake
-of pitch, and some way the three felt ill at ease, as though some evil
-impended. At last the veteran of the trio broke a longer silence than
-usual:
-
-"Boys, I don't like this. It's ten o'clock and he should have been back
-long ago. I hope to Heaven----"
-
-A touch on his arm from the man at his right caused him to glance
-quickly lakeward.
-
-Forty feet from them, drifting noiselessly into the firelight, was the
-Peterboro, with Moeran kneeling as usual and sending the light craft
-forward in some mysterious manner which required no perceptible movement
-of the arms nor lifting of the paddle. It was a fine exhibition of his
-skill to thus approach unheard three anxious, listening men on such a
-night, for he had heard their voices good two miles away. His appearance
-was so sudden, so ghostlike, that for a few seconds the party stared in
-mute surprise at the forms of man and craft standing out in sharp relief
-against the blackness of the night; then a whoop of delight welcomed
-him.
-
-He came ashore, swiftly picked up the canoe and turned it bottom upward
-on the sand for the night, carried his rifle into camp, then approached
-the fire and looked sharply round.
-
-"The guide's asleep."
-
-"Oh, he is; -------- him!" Then he flung himself down on the sand.
-Something in his tone and manner warned his friends not to talk, and
-they eyed him curiously. His face was white as death and drawn with an
-expression of utter exhaustion, and marked with grimy lines, showing
-where rivulets of sweat had trickled downward. As they looked, his eyes
-closed; he was going to sleep as he lay.
-
-Quietly the veteran busied himself getting food ready, and presently
-roused the slumberer.
-
-"Here, old chap, have a nip and eat a bite. Why, you're dead beat. Where
-on earth have you been?"
-
-A strangely hollow voice answered:
-
-"To the back lakes."
-
-His listeners whistled a combined long-drawn "whew" of amazement, for
-right well they knew the leagues of toilsome travel this statement
-implied.
-
-"See anything?"
-
-"Wounded the old bull badly, and trailed him from the lakes to within
-five miles of here. That cur sleeping yonder sold us; but you hear me!"
-he exclaimed with sudden fierce energy, "_I'll get that moose if I have
-to stay in the woods forever!_"
-
-The three looked at him in admiring silence, for they guessed that,
-in spite of his terrible day's work, he intended starting again at
-daylight. In a few moments he finished his meal and staggered to the
-tent, and fell asleep as soon as he touched his blanket.
-
-When the party turned out next morning the canoe was gone, though the
-sun was not yet clear, of the hills. After breakfast they started in
-quest of grouse, working through the woods in the direction of the
-beaver meadows, and finding plenty of birds. About ten o'clock they
-heard the distant report of a rifle, followed in a few minutes by a
-second, and the veteran exclaimed, "That's him, for an even hundred, and
-he's got his moose, or something strange has happened."
-
-At noon they returned to camp laden with grouse. No sign of the canoe
-as yet, so they had dinner, and lounged about and fished during the
-afternoon, casting many expectant glances down the lake for the laggard
-canoe. Night fell, with still no sound or sign of the wanderer, and
-again the camp-fire roared and flamed and sent its glowing reflection
-streaming far over the black waste of water. And again the three
-sat waiting. At ten o'clock the veteran rose and said, "Keep a sharp
-lookout, boys, and don't let him fool you again, and I'll get up a royal
-feed. He'll have moose-meat in the canoe this time, for he said _he'd
-get that moose if he had to stay in the woods forever_. He'll be dead
-beat, sure, for he's probably dragged the head out with him." So they
-waited, piling the fire high, and staring out over the lake for the
-first glimpse of the canoe. Eleven o'clock and midnight came and went,
-and still no sign. Then they piled the fire high for the last time and
-sought the tent. At the door the veteran halted, and laying a hand on
-the shoulder of his chum, drew him aside.
-
-"Why, whatever's the matter with you?"
-
-The old man's face wore a piteous expression, and his voice trembled as
-he whispered:
-
-"Hush! Don't let _him_ hear you--but there's something wrong. Something
-horrible has happened--I feel it in my heart."
-
-"Nonsense, man! You're sleepy and nervous. He's all right. Why, he's
-just cut himself a moose steak, and had a feed and laid down----"
-
-The sentence was never completed. A sound that caused both men to start
-convulsively tore through the black stillness of the night. A horrible,
-gurgling, demoniacal laugh came over the lake, and died away in fading
-echoes among the hills. "Woll-oll-all-ollow-wall-all-ollow!" as though
-some hideous fiend was laughing with his lips touching the water. They
-knew what it was, for the loon's weird cry was perfectly familiar to
-them, and they laughed too, but there was no mirth in their voices. Then
-one sought the tent, but the veteran paced up and down upon the cold
-beach, halting sometimes to replenish the fire or to stare out over the
-water, until a pale light spread through the eastern sky. Then he too
-turned in for a couple of hours of troubled, unrefreshing slumber.
-
-The bright sunshine of an Indian summer's day brought a reaction and
-their spirits rose wonderfully; but still the canoe tarried, and as the
-hours wore away, the veteran grew moody again and the midday meal was a
-melancholy affair. Early in the afternoon he exclaimed:
-
-"Boys, I tell you what it is: I can stand this no longer--something's
-wrong, and we're going to paddle those two skiffs down to the beaver
-meadow and find out what we can do, and we're going to start right now.
-God forgive us if we have been idling here while we should have been
-yonder!"
-
-Two in a boat they went, and the paddles never halted until the channel
-to the beaver meadow was gained. Dividing forces, they circled in
-opposite directions round the open, but only the taint of the long-dead
-moose marked the spot. Then they fired three rifles in rapid succession
-and listened anxiously, but only the rolling, bursting echoes of the
-woods answered them.
-
-"Guide, where would he probably have gone?"
-
-"Wa'al, he told you he'd run the old bull this way from the back
-lakes--thar's another leetle mash a mile north of us; it's an awful
-mud-hole, and the bull might possibly hev lit out fur thar. Enyhow, we'd
-best hunt the closest spots first."
-
-The picture of that marsh will haunt the memories of those three men
-until their deaths. A few acres of muskeg, with broad reaches of sullen,
-black, slimy water, its borders bottomless mud, covered with a loathsome
-green scum, and a few pale-green, sickly-looking larches dotting the
-open--the whole forming a repulsive blemish, like an ulcer, on the face
-of the earth. All round rose a silent wall of noble evergreens, rising
-in massive tiers upon the hills, with here and there a flame of gorgeous
-color where the frost had touched perishable foliage. Overhead a
-hazy dome of dreamy blue, with the sun smiling down through the gauzy
-curtains of the Indian summer. Swinging in easy circles, high in air,
-were two ravens, challenging each other in hollow tones, their orbits
-crossing and recrossing as they narrowed in slow-descending spirals.
-"Look, look at him!"
-
-[Illustration: 0124]
-
-One bird had stooped like a falling plummet, and now hung about fifty
-yards above the farther bounds of the muskeg, beating the air with
-heavy, sable pinions and croaking loudly to his mate above. Closing her
-wings, she stooped with a whizzing rush to his level, and there the two
-hung flapping side by side, their broad wings sometimes striking sharply
-against each other, their hoarse, guttural notes sounding at intervals.
-A nameless horror seized the men as they looked. Their hunter's instinct
-told them that death lay below those flapping birds, and with one
-impulse they hurried round on the firmer ground to the ill-omened spot.
-
-The veteran, white-faced but active as a lad, tore his way through the
-bordering cover first, halted and stared for an instant, then dropped
-his rifle in the mud, threw up his hands and exclaimed in an agonized
-voice:
-
-"Oh, my God, my God!"
-
-One by one they crashed through the brush and joined him, and stood
-staring. No need for questions. Ten square yards of deep-trodden,
-reeking mud and crushed grass, a trampled cap, and here and there a rag
-of brown duck; a silver-mounted flask shining in a little pool of bloody
-water; a stockless rifle-barrel, bent and soiled, sticking upright;
-beyond all a huge, hairy body, and below it a suggestion of another body
-and a blood-stained face, that even through its terrible disfigurement
-seemed to scowl with grim determination. Throwing off their coats, they
-dragged the dead moose aside and strove to raise Moeran's body, but in
-vain. Something held it; the right leg was broken and they found the
-foot fast fixed in a forked root the treacherous slime had concealed. In
-the right hand was firmly clutched the haft of his hunting knife, and
-in the moose's throat was the broken blade. The veteran almost smiled
-through his tears as they worked to loosen the prisoned foot, and
-muttered, "Caught like a bear in a trap; he'd have held his own with
-a fair chance." Carrying the poor, stamped, crushed body to the shade,
-they laid it upon the moss and returned to read the story of the fearful
-battle. To their hunter's eyes it read as plainly as printed page. The
-great bull, sore from his previous wound, had sought the swamp. Moeran
-had trailed him to the edge and knocked him down the first shot, and
-after reloading had run forward to bleed his prize. Just as he got
-within reach the bull had struggled up and charged, and Moeran had shot
-him through the second time. Then he had apparently dodged about in the
-sticky mud and struck the bull terrific blows with the clubbed rifle,
-breaking the stock and bending the barrel, and getting struck himself
-repeatedly by the terrible forefeet of the enraged brute. To and fro,
-with ragged clothes and torn flesh, he had dodged, the deadly muskeg
-behind and on either side, the furious bull holding the only path to the
-saving woods. At last he had entrapped his foot in the forked root, and
-the bull had rushed in and beaten him down, and as he fell he struck
-with his knife ere the tremendous weight crushed out his life. The
-veteran picked up the rifle-barrel, swept it through a pool and examined
-the action, and found a shell jammed fast.
-
-In despairing voice he said, "Oh, boys, boys, if that shell had but come
-into place our friend had won the day, but he died like the noble fellow
-he was!"
-
-With rifles and coats they made a stretcher and carried him sadly out to
-the lake.
-
-"_He would get that moose, or stay in the woods forever!_"
-
-
-
-
-THE MYSTERY OF A CHRISTMAS HUNT, By Talbot Torrance
-
-
-[Illustration: 9129]
-
-"Clug!" The wad went home in the last shell, and as I removed it from
-the loader and finished the fill of my belt I heaved a sigh of profound
-relief at the completion of a troublesome job.
-
-I hate making cartridges. Perhaps I am a novice, and have not a good
-kit, and am lazy, and clumsy, and impatient, and---- But go on and
-account for it yourself at greater length, if you will, my friends;
-only accept my solemn statement that I detest the operation, which, I
-am convinced, ought to be confined to able-bodied colored men with
-perseverance and pachydermatous knuckles.
-
-An ordinary man is always in fluster and fever before he completes
-loading up for a day's gunning. His patent plugger becomes inexplicably
-and painfully fractious; his percussions are misfits; his No. 10 wads
-prove to be No. 12s; his shot sack is sure to spill; his canister is
-certain to sustain a dump into the water pail, and, when he begins to
-reflect on all the unmentionable _lapsi linguae_ of which his numerous
-vexations are the immediately exciting, though possibly not the
-responsible, cause, he is apt to conclude that, say what you may in
-favor of the breechloader, there are a certain few points which commend
-the old-time muzzle-loader, especially when it comes around to charging
-a shell.
-
-[Illustration: 0130]
-
-At all events, that is the kind of man I now am; and if the reader
-is not prepared to absolutely indorse me all through these crotchety
-cogitations, may I not hope he will at least bear with me patiently and
-give me time to outgrow it, if possible? But, as I was saying, I have
-charged up and am ready to sally forth and join the hunting party of the
-Blankville Gun Club, who had organized a match for Christmas Eve, a
-bright, nippy day of "an open winter"--as experienced in Northeastern
-Ontario, at any rate. I don my game bag, strap on my belt, pick up my
-newly-bought hammerless and prepare to leave the house. My cocker
-Charlie, long since cognizant of what my preparations meant, is at heel.
-
-There is a wild light in his eyes, but, self-contained animal that he
-is, not a yelp, whine or even tail wag is manifested to detract from his
-native dignity and self possession. "Native" dignity? Aye! My dog boasts
-it naturally; and yet, at the same time, I fancy the switch and I have
-had something to do in developing it and teaching the pup its apparently
-unconscious display.
-
-[Illustration: 0136]
-
-"You're no fool dog, are you, Charlie? You're no funny, festive,
-frolicsome dog, who cannot hold himself in when a run is on the
-programme--eh, boy?"
-
-The silky-coated canine knows as well as I do that he is in for an
-afternoon a-wood. He has the inclination to leap and roll and essay to
-jump out of his hide. Yet the only answer he dare give to the inquiry
-is an appealing glance from his hazel orbs up at his master's immovable
-face. Yes, my dog Charlie is sober and sensible, and I am proud of these
-characteristics and their usefulness to me before the gun.
-
-[Illustration: 0134]
-
-"Good-bye, little woman!" I sing out cheerily to my wife as I pass down
-the hall. She comes to the door to see me off. Sometimes, perhaps, a
-man will find his adieu on an occasion of this kind responded to
-uncordially, not to say frigidly, or perhaps not at all. But he must
-not grieve deeply over it or let it act as an excitative of his mean
-moroseness or angry passion. Think the thing all over. You are to be far
-away from home. Why should not the thought of the vacant chair--next to
-that of the demonstrative and exacting baby at meal time--rise up and
-sadden your wife? Can you wonder at her distant bearing as she foresees
-how she will sigh "for the touch of a vanished hand"--on the coal
-scuttle and water pail? Of course, she will "miss your welcome
-footsteps"--carrying in kindlings, and the "dear, familiar
-voice"--calling up the chickens. And so you cannot in reason expect her
-invariably to answer your kindly _adios_ in a gladsome, gleesome, wholly
-satisfied sort of way. But never you go away without the goodbye on your
-part--the honest, manly, loving-toned good-bye that will ring in her
-ears in your absence and cause her to fancy that perhaps you are not
-such a selfish old bear after all.
-
-With some of us men--only a limited few, of course, and we are not
-inclined to think over and enumerate them--it is unhappily the case
-that
-
-               We have cheerful words for the stranger,
-
-               And smiles for the sometime guest;
-
-               But oft for our own the bitter tone,
-
-               Though we love our own the best.
-
-"will miss your welcome footsteps."
-
-[Illustration: 0134]
-
-               Now, if such men only thought
-
-               How many go forth in the morning,
-
-               Who never come back at night!
-
-               And hearts are broken for harsh words spoken,
-
-               Which time may never set right,
-
-what a different atmosphere might permeate the domicile on "first days,"
-to say nothing of the rest of the time!
-
-The real fact of the matter is, men and brothers, we do not accurately
-appreciate the objections which the domestic partners may entertain
-against our occasional outings. For my part I verily believe they are
-largely, if not entirely, prompted by the feeling that
-
-               There's nae luck aboot the hoose,
-
-               There's nae luck at a'!
-
-               There's nae luck about the hoose,
-
-               Since oor guid mon's avva'.
-
-And here we go on thinking it is purely a matter of petty petulance and
-small selfishness on their part! Come, gentlemen, let us once and for
-all rightly appreciate the situation and resolve to do better in the
-future! But let us return to our sheep. My hand is on the door knob,
-when, pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat, is heard the tread of tiny feet. It is Ted,
-my little two year old, coming to say good-bye to papa. I take him up
-and sing gaily:
-
-                   Bye, baby bunting,
-
-                   Papa goes a-hunting,
-
-                   To get a little rabbit skin
-
-                   To wrap the baby bunting in.
-
-How the little man crows and gurgles in glee! Then he grows
-demonstrative and he wants to take off my cap. He makes a grab at my
-game bag. As I put him down gently he tries to disarm me and possess
-himself of the gun.
-
-I say, what an awful bother about the house of the sportsman is the
-toddling tot of a baby! He is always getting hold of your gun swab for
-a fish pole or to bang the dog about. Putting holes in your fish basket
-with a big nail or a table knife is a supreme source of delight to him.
-He has a mania for planting carpet tacks in your hunting boots. Making
-smokestacks for mud houses with your brass shells is a passion with him.
-If he can get hold of your ammunition to make paste of the powder, and
-pulp of the wads, and a hopeless mixture of the shot, he is simply in
-his element. Give him possession of your lines and access to your fly
-book and he enjoys an hour of what is, to him, immense fun, but to you
-pronounced and positive destruction.
-
-And yet--you wouldn't be without, that self-same baby if to keep him
-cost you every shooting iron and foot of tackle you ever owned or hoped
-to own, and at the same time destroyed the prospect of you ever again
-having a "day out" on this rare old earth of ours.
-
-It is quite safe to say that the article for which you would exchange
-that merry, mischievous toddler of yours, who clasps your brown neck
-with little white, soft arms and presses a sweet baby kiss to your
-bristled lips, as he sees you off on an outing, has not now an
-existence--and you do not seem to exactly remember when it had. And you
-do not care whether he destroys your possessions; they can be replaced.
-
-Yes, indeed! Even you, most inveterate and selfish and calloused votary
-of the chase--you have a tender spot in your hard old heart for the
-baby boy. He may not be all that is orderly, obedient, non-combatable,
-non-destructive, but still we all love him! Not one of us, at all
-events, but will frankly admit that we respect him--for his father's
-sake. Need anything more be said?
-
-And do not we also respect those who depict him in tenderness and
-affection?
-
-Don't we think all the more of Scanlon the actor for his inimitable
-"Peek-a-boo?" and of Charles Mackay for his "Baby Mine?" and of Bret
-Harte for his "Luck of Roaring Camp?" and of Dickens--wasn't it Dickens
-who wrote:
-
-               When the lessons and tasks all are ended,
-
-               And the school for the day is dismissed,
-
-               And the little ones gather around me
-
-               To bid me good-bye and be kissed.
-
-               Oh, the little, white arms that encircle
-
-               My neck in a tender embrace!
-
-               Oh, the smiles that are halos of Heaven
-
-               Shedding light in a desolate place!
-
-Has it ever occurred to you, my friend, that the baby is the same
-unchanged, unimproved article since the world began? Men are making
-smokeless powder, constructing pneumatic bicycle tires, inventing
-long-distance guns, training horses down to two minutes, getting
-sprinters to cover 100 yards close to nine seconds--revolutionizing
-everything, but leaving the baby the old-time brand!
-
-People seem satisfied with the original make, and far from any movement
-to abolish it as out of date. The sentiment would appear to be pretty
-universal:
-
-               Drear were the world without a child,
-
-               Where happy infant never smiled.
-
-               We sooner could the flowerets spare,
-
-               The tender bud and blossom fair,
-
-               Or breath of spring time in the air.
-
-I have said "bye-bye" to my tiny Ted half a dozen times and at last am
-about to escape during his sudden flight to another part of the
-house, when I am arrested by the eager cry, half in inquiry, half in
-jubilation, "Baby barlo! Papa, baby barlo! Dee!"
-
-There he stands, holding up my little patent flask as though he had made
-a wonderful discovery. To humor the child I took the little companion,
-said "Ta-ta," and was in the act of slipping it back to my wife, when
-I decided to keep it. I am not partial to the cup that cheers and also
-inebriates, and yet I have an appreciation of the pocket pistol that
-warms, sustains and heartens in a long tramp on a zero afternoon with
-only a dog for companionship and the chances of bagging anything much
-reduced to a minimum. I stepped to the sideboard and filled the "barlo"
-_quantum suff_.
-
-"Ah, Scrib! You're early on deck" was the grunting of the Doc. "None of
-the others are here yet. But I guess we'll not have long to wait. There
-is surely no laggard or lunkhead in our jolly sextette. On such an
-occasion as a Christmas Eve hunt, with an oyster supper at stake, the
-resources of our whole happy hunting grounds on trial, and the pluck
-and prowess of six rival sports in question there should certainly be no
-such word as 'funk!"'
-
-Even as the Doc spoke Tinker dropped in. Hardly was he seated when Shy
-puffed his way into the little smoking room. We waited five minutes for
-the Judge, and had become impatient before Budge put in an appearance.
-
-What an assortment of unique nomenclature! Gun-club designations they
-were, of course. In polite society "Scrib" was the village editor;
-"Tinker" was our general store keeper; "The Judge" was young Lawyer
-B------; "Budge" was mine host of the Queen's Arms, and the "Doc" was just
-the doctor--our large-hearted, clever, hard-working local M. D., the
-life and soul of the sport-loving community, as he was also the idol of
-the village and district for his skill, his unselfishness and his
-unvarying _bonhomie_.
-
-"Budge!" exclaims the Doc. "As president of this club I fine you----"
-
-"I rise to a point of order!" breaks in the Judge. "This meeting is not
-yet duly open, and, at all events, this is a special one, and
-business of the regular order must be excluded. Referring to the
-constitution----"
-
-"Oh, to thunder with the constitution! Let us get off on our hunt!" And
-Tinker looks annihilation at the order pointer.
-
-"Well, well, fellows," laughs the Doc, "I shall rule partially in
-favor of both. I shall rule that Budge do tell us his latest joke as a
-penalty. Come now, prisoner, out with it and save your fine!"
-
-"Say, boys," begins Budge, deprecatingly, "don't insist. I'm sorry I
-was late, but the fact is I was giving elaborate orders for the supper,
-which I know it will be just my luck to get stuck for. One of my special
-orders was to secure a magnificent roast and have it cooked in Ben
-Jonson style."
-
-"Ben Jonson style? How is that?" queries the Doc.
-
-"'O, rare Ben Jonson!' There, Mr. President," he adds, when the laugh
-ceases, "I believe that debt is squared." We have made out our list and
-fixed points, ranging from chipmunk, 1, to bear, 1,000.
-
-"You leave out quail, I notice. Now that is an omission which----"
-
-But the Judge is cut short on all sides.
-
-"Out in the wild and woolly West, from whence you have but recently
-emigrated to civilization and refinement," remarks the Doc, "quail are
-about as plentiful as hedge sparrows are here. But a quail has not been
-seen in this section for ten years, I'll venture to say. No, Judge, we
-needn't point on quail this time!"
-
-"And yet," I observe in an encouraging tone, "who knows but we may each
-and all happen on a covey."
-
-"That is extravagant. But if any man should be lucky enough to bag a
-brace, that I may enjoy one more good square meal of quail on toast,
-I'll stand the supper." And the Judge looked straight at Budge.
-
-"Now that is what I would call extravagant--supper for a whole party in
-consideration of a dish of quail on toast. Suppose you yourself should
-bag the brace. But this reminds me of the man who ordered quail on toast
-in a Boston restaurant. He was brought in some toast. He waited a while.
-Presently he called the waiter and repeated the order. 'There you are,
-sir!' answered Thomas. 'That? That is toast, of course; but where's the
-quail?' The waiter pointed to a small speck in the centre of each slice,
-looking like a baked fly. 'Ah! so this dish is quail on toast, is it?'
-'Yes, sir!' 'Then you just remove it and bring me turkey on toast!'"
-
-We draw lots for choice of directions, and fix 8 p. m. sharp for
-reassembling to compare scores. My choice fell on a due north course,
-along which, seven miles distant, lay cover where I had scarcely ever
-failed to find at least fair sport and to take game, such as it was. And
-I went it alone--barring my dog.
-
-[Illustration: 0142]
-
-Seven miles of hard footing it and I had only the brush of a couple of
-red squirrels, the wing of a chicken hawk, and the lean carcass of a
-small rabbit to show. I had sighted a fox far out of range, and had been
-taken unawares by a brace of birds which Charlie had nobly flushed and I
-had shockingly muffed.
-
-The dog had followed the birds deeper into the wood, leaving me
-angry and uncertain what to do. Suddenly I heard his yelp of rage and
-disappointment give place to his business bark, and I knew my pup had a
-tree for me. It was a sound not to be mistaken. My dog never now plays
-spoof with me by tonguing a tree for hair. His business bark means
-partridge every time. I hurried on as the dog gave tongue more sharp and
-peremptory, taking a skirt to avoid a tangled piece of underbrush as I
-began-to approach the critical spot.
-
-The ruins of an old shanty lay fifty yards to my left, and between them
-and me was a sort of _cache_ or root cellar, the sides intact but the
-roof half gone.
-
-All of a sudden there broke on my ear a sound I had not heard for many a
-day.
-
-I listened, almost dumfounded. There it is again! And no mistaking it.
-It is the pipe of a quail!
-
-It came from a patch of meadow not many rods off, and it set every
-nerve in my body a-tingling. Charlie and his partridges were out of mind
-instanter. I had no manner of use for them at that supreme moment.
-
-"It's no stray bird!" I mentally ejaculated. "Perhaps it's a regular
-Kansas covey!" Heavens, what luck! The boys--the Judge--quail on
-toast--the laugh--the amazement--the consternation--I conjured all these
-things up in my excited brain in less time than it takes to tell it.
-
-I started forward with every fibre a-tension. I was wild to get even a
-glimpse of the little strangers.
-
-[Illustration: 0144]
-
-Suddenly--enough almost to puzzle me--the pipe was answered from the
-mouth of the old potato pit, and the next instant "whir-r-r-r!" rose the
-birds, and "bang! bang!" I gave them right and left at a range and with
-a calculation that left three only to join and tell the tale to the
-whistler in the meadow. Seven was the drop, and the birds were as plump
-and pretty as ever I had set eyes on. I fairly chuckled aloud in glee
-at the surprise I had in store for my club mates. I sat down, took a
-congratulatory nip, and actually toyed with the quail as a boy would
-with the first fruits of his initial day's outing with his own boughten
-gun!
-
-My faithful dog Charlie had during this time stuck to his birds. I could
-hear his angry bark growing angrier, and I could detect, as I fancied,
-a shade of impatience and disappointment therein. A crack at a partridge
-will be a change, I thought, and so I hurried in Charlie's direction.
-
-There he sat on a rotten stump, with eyes fixed on the brushy top of a
-dead pine.
-
-I looked that top over, limb by limb, but not a sign of a feather could
-I detect. I made a circuit, and skinned every twig aloft in a vain
-endeavor to discover a roosting bird. I began to think the pup was daft,
-but I dismissed the reflection promptly as ungenerous and unfair to my
-trusty cocker. I make solemn affidavit that, though I could not note the
-suggestion of a partridge up that pine, my spaniel could see it as plain
-as a pike staff.
-
-"I'll climb the stump!" said I. _Mirabile dictu!_ There, on lower limbs,
-one above the other and hugging the bark so close that they seemed part
-of it, were my missed brace!
-
-"Bang!" and the topmost tumbles, nearly knocking his mate off as he
-falls.
-
-"Bang!" and down comes No. 2.
-
-[Illustration: 8146]
-
-Charlie manifests a sense of relieved anxiety and satisfaction that of
-itself rewards me for the perplexing search.
-
-But a drowsiness had been creeping over me till its influence had
-become almost irresistible. I felt stupid and sleep-inclined.
-
-Almost without knowing what I did I pulled out my flask, poured "just a
-nip" a fair portion in the cup and drank it off. The twilight was
-coming on and casting its sombre shadows, _avant coureurs_ of the black
-winter night that was soon to envelop the scene for a brief while, till
-fair Luna lit up the heavens and chased Darkness to its gloomy lair.
-
-I have an indistinct recollection of recalling lines I have read
-somewhere or other:
-
-               When Life's last sun is sinking slow and sad,
-
-                   How cold and dark its lengthened shadows
-
-                        fall.
-
-                   They lie extended on the straightened path
-
-                   Whose narrow close, the grave, must end it
-
-                        all.
-
-               Oh, Life so grudging in your gifts, redeem
-
-                   By one great boon the losses of the Past!
-
-               Grant me a full imperishable Faith,
-
-                   And let the Light be with me till the last.
-
-Then all became a blank!
-
-* * * * *
-
-"Full? I never knew him to more than taste liquor. No, no! You're
-mistaken. He has either been knocked senseless by some accident or
-mischance, or else he has fallen in a fit."
-
-It was the Doc who spoke. I suddenly grew seized of consciousness to the
-extent of recognizing my old friend's voice. But to indicate the fact
-physically was impossible. I lay in a sort of trance, with lips that
-would not open and hands that would not obey.
-
-"Oh, all right, Doc! You ought to know!"
-
-This time I caught the voice of the Judge.
-
-"But he is in a pitiable plight. We must get to him and move him or he
-may perhaps perish, if he's not gone now. Drat that dog! I don't want
-to shoot him; and yet he'll tear us if we try to lay hand on his master.
-But lay hand on him we must. Is it a go, Doc?"
-
-"It's the only alternative, Judge. I like canine fidelity; but hang me
-if this brute doesn't suit too well! We'll have to get him out of the
-way and succor the man. Give it to him, Judge!"
-
-"Stop!"
-
-By a superhuman effort, through some agency I never could account for,
-I managed to utter that one word in a sort of half expostulatory, half
-authoritative tone, or rather groan.
-
-[Illustration: 0148]
-
-It broke the spell.
-
-My eyes opened. My arms regained power. Instinctively I reached out a
-hand and drew my canine guardian toward me, placing a cheek against his
-cold, moist nose. That was enough for Charlie. The faithful brute grew
-wild with joy. He barked, whined, jumped, capered, pirouetted after his
-own stump, and, in a word, did the most tremendous despite to all my
-careful training in the line of reserved and dignified demeanor.
-
-I rose to a sitting posture and finally drew myself up on my feet,
-gazing around me in a bewildered, uncertain sort of way.
-
-"Hello, boys, what's the matter?" I managed to articulate.
-
-"Hello, and what's the matter yourself?" replied the Doc.
-
-"Yes, that's precisely what we came out here to know," put in the Judge.
-
-"I guess--I think--yes, let me see!--I believe I--I--must have dropped
-off in a little doze, boys! Very kind of you to look me up. Only--say,
-you never surely meant to shoot my dog? I'd have haunted both of you
-to your respective dying days if you had, supposing I was a cold corpse
-instead of a man taking a little nap."
-
-"Taking a little nap! Hear him! I should rather say you were. But, look
-here, Scrib, do your little naps always mean two or three hours of the
-soundest sleep a man ever slept who wasn't dead or drugged?"
-
-"Dead or drugged, Doc? Pshaw, you're away off. You can see for yourself
-I am not dead, and I can vow I wasn't drugged."
-
-"Then you've been intoxicated, by George; and as president of the
-Blank-ville Gun Club I'll fine you----"
-
-"Quail, as I live!"
-
-"One--two--three; three brace and a half, Doc, and beauties, too! It
-does my heart good to handle the darlings. Doc, if Scrib has been full
-forty times to-day, he has more than atoned for the _lapsi_ with this
-glorious bag. Whoop! Ya, ha! There'll be quail on toast for the whole
-party."
-
-By the time the Judge's jubilation had ceased I had about regained my
-normal condition and we were ready to make tracks homeward.
-
-The clock strikes the midnight hour as I re-enter my own home. My wife
-sits rocking the cradle, in which lies our darling Ted. She turns a
-weary-looking, tear-stained face to me.
-
-"Its all right, dear," I gently remark, "I'm quite safe, as you see."
-
-"I haven't the slightest doubt of it, sir," she returns, icily. "It's
-not of you I've been thinking, but of baby."
-
-"Baby," I repeat inquiringly. "What is the matter with him?"
-
-"There is nothing the matter with him, but there is no telling what
-might have been. And all owing to your foolish indulgence of his fancy
-for bottles."
-
-"What does it mean, dear?" I venture. "It means that you had not been
-gone an hour when I found Ted with that little two-ounce phial you left
-half filled with laudanum on the lower pantry shelf yesterday. He had
-evidently climbed a chair and reached it down. The cork was out and the
-bottle was empty. You can perhaps imagine my feelings. I didn't know
-whether he had taken the stuff or not, but was in an agony of anxiety on
-the point, you may be sure. The doctor was away hunting, you were away
-hunting, and here was I fairly consumed with apprehension lest my baby
-had poisoned himself."
-
-Like a flash the whole mystery of my stupor sleep revealed itself to
-me. "Baby barlo"--flask--laudanum phial--whiskey--it was all as clear as
-day.
-
-I said: "But it transpires he hadn't taken any of the laudanum, eh?"
-
-"Yes, thank Heaven! But for all of you-----"
-
-"Listen, please. All I want to say is that what Ted missed I got. Do you
-understand?"
-
-"Do _I_ understand! Are _you_ in your sane and sober senses, William?"
-
-"I have a shrewd suspicion that I am," I replied, with a slight laugh,
-"and being so, I will repeat it: Baby didn't down the poison; but I
-guess I made up for that, because _I did!_"
-
-Then I told her the story.
-
-Of course I gained my point. It ended with---- but, no matter. The Judge
-stood the supper in consideration of quail on toast being incorporated
-in the menu, and we sat around the festive board in the Queen's Arms
-a week later, and talked over our Xmas Eve hunting match. No one was
-disposed to question the sentiment in a speech by the Doc, who declared:
-"Fellows, our prowess as a gun club is growing, and I verily believe
-the old district is getting to be once more something like a half-decent
-hunting ground. Let us keep together, be as men and brothers always,
-and--I was nearly overlooking it--let us invariably wash out our pocket
-pistols before filling 'em up afresh."
-
-
-
-
-HERNE THE HUNTER, By William Perry Brown
-
-
-|Herne the Hunter was tall, brown and grizzled. The extreme roundness
-of his shoulders indicated strength rather than infirmity, while
-the severing of his great neck at a blow would have made a feudal
-executioner famous in his craft. An imaginative man might have divined
-something comely beneath the complex conjunction of lines and ridges
-that made up his features, but it would have been more by suggestion,
-however, than by any actual resemblance to beauty traceable thereon. The
-imprint of strength, severity and endurance was intensified by an open
-contempt of appearance; only to a subtle second-sight was revealed aught
-nobler, sweeter and sadder, like faint stars twinkling behind filmy
-clouds.
-
-Some town-bred Nimrod, with a misty Shakespearean memory, had added to
-his former patronymic of "Old Herne" that of Windsor's ghostly visitor.
-The mountaineers saw the fitness of the title, and "Herne the Hunter"
-became widely current.
-
-His place of abode was as ambiguous as his history, being somewhere
-beyond the "Dismal," amid the upper caves and gorges of the Nantahalah.
-The Dismal was a weird, wild region of brake and laurel, walled in by
-lonely mountains, with a gruesome outlet between two great cliffs,
-that nearly met in mid-air hundreds of feet over a sepulchral Canyon,
-boulder-strewn, and thrashed by a sullen torrent, that led from a
-dolorous labyrinth, gloomy at midday, and at night resonant with fierce
-voices and sad sighings.
-
-Far down in Whippoorwill Cove, the mountaineers told savage tales of
-adventure about the outskirts of the Dismal, yet, beyond trapping
-round the edges or driving for deer, it was to a great extent a _terra
-incognita_ to all, unless Herne the Hunter was excepted.
-
-"The devil air in the man, 'nd hopes him out'n places no hones' soul
-keers to pester hisse'f long of."
-
-This was common opinion, though a few averred that "Old Herne 'nd the
-devil wern't so master thick atter all." Said one: "Why, the dinged old
-fool totes his Bible eroun' ez riglar ez he do his huntin'-shirt. Onct
-when the parson wuz holdin' the big August meetin' down ter Ebeneezer
-Meetin'-house, he stepped in. The meetin' was a gittin' ez cold ez hen's
-feet, 'nd everybody a lookin' at Herne the Hunter, when down he draps
-onto his knees, 'nd holdin' on by his rifle he 'gun ter pray like a
-house afire. Wal, he prayed 'nd he prayed, 'twel the people, arter thur
-skeer wuz over, 'gun ter pray 'nd shout too, 'nd fust they all knowed,
-the front bench wuz plum full of mou'ners. Wal, they hed a hog-killin'
-time fur a while, 'nd all sot on by Herne the Hunter, but when they
-quieted down 'nd begun ter luk fer him--by jing!--he wern't thar. Nobody
-hed seed him get erway, 'nd that set 'em ter thinkin', 'nd the yupshot
-wuz they hed the bes' meetin' old Ebeneezer hed seed in many a year."
-
-Once a belated hunter discovered, when the fog came down, that he was
-lost amid the upper gorges of the Nantahalahs. While searching for some
-cranny wherein to pass the night, he heard a voice seemingly in mid-air
-before him, far out over an abyss of seething vapor which he feared
-concealed a portion of the dreaded Dismal. Memories of Herne the Hunter
-crowded upon him, and he strove to retrace his steps, but fell into a
-trail that led him to a cave which seemed to bar his further way. The
-voice came nearer; his blood chilled as he distinguished imprecations,
-prayers and entreaties chaotically mingled, and all the while
-approaching him. He fled into the cave, and peering thence, beheld a
-shadowy form loom through the mist, gesticulating as it came.
-
-A whiff blew aside shreds of the fog, and he saw Herne the Hunter on the
-verge of a dizzy cliff, shaking his long rifle, his hair disheveled, his
-eyes dry and fiery, and his huge frame convulsed by the emotions that
-dominated him. The very fury and pathos of his passion were terrifying,
-and the watcher shrank back as old Herne, suddenly dropping his rifle,
-clutched at the empty air, then paused dejectedly.
-
-"Always thus!" he said, in a tone of deep melancholy. "Divine in
-form--transfigured--beautiful--oh, so beautiful!--yet ever with the same
-accursed face. I have prayed over these visitations. I, have sought in
-God's word that confirmation of my hope which should yet save me from
-despair; but, when rising from my supplications, the blest
-vision confronts me--the curse is ever there--thwarting its
-loveliness--reminding me of what was, but will never be again."
-
-He drew a tattered Bible from his bosom and searched it intently. He was
-a sight at once forbidding and piteous, as he stood with wind-fluttered
-garments, his foot upon the edge of a frightful precipice, his head bent
-over the book as though devouring with his eyes some sacred antidote
-against the potency of his sorrow. Then he looked up, and the Bible fell
-from his hands. His eyes became fixed; he again clutched at the air,
-then fell back with a despairing gesture, averting his face the while.
-
-"Out of my sight!" he cried. "Your eyes are lightning, and your smile is
-death. I will have no more of you--no more! And yet--O God! O God!--what
-dare I--what can I do without you?"
-
-He staggered back and made directly for the cavern. The watcher shrank
-back, while Herne the Hunter brushed blindly by, leaving Bible and rifle
-on the rock without. Then the wanderer, slipping out, fled down the
-narrow trail as though there were less peril from the dizzy cliffs
-around than in the society of the strange man whose fancies peopled
-these solitudes with such soul-harrowing phantoms.
-
-Thus for years Herne the Hunter had been a mystery, a fear, and a
-fascination to the mountaineers; recoiling from men, abhorring women,
-rebuffing curiosity, yet' at times strangely tender, sad, and ever
-morbidly religious. He clung to his Bible as his last earthly refuge
-from his darker self, and to the aspirations it engendered as a bane to
-the fatalistic stirrings within him.
-
-He was a mighty hunter and lived upon the proceeds of his skill. Once
-or twice a year he would appear at some mountain store, fling down a
-package of skins, and demand its worth in powder and lead. The jean-clad
-loungers would regard him askance, few venturing to idly speak with
-him, and none repeating the experiment. His mien daunted the boldest. If
-women were there he would stand aloof until they left; on meeting them
-in the road he would sternly avert his eyes as though from a distasteful
-presence. One day the wife of a storekeeper, waiting on him in her
-husband's absence, ventured to say, while wrapping up his purchases:
-
-"I've all'ays wonnered, Mr. Herne, what makes ye wanter git outen the
-wimmen folks' way? Mos' men likes ter have 'em eroun'."
-
-Herne the Hunter frowned heavily, but made no reply.
-
-"I'm shore, if ye had a good wife long with ye way up thar whur ye
-live, she'd make ye a leetle more like a man 'nd less like a--a--" she
-hesitated over a term which might censure yet not give offense.
-
-"Like a beast you would say." He exclaimed then with vehemence: "Were
-the necks of all women in one, and had I my hands on it, I'd strangle
-them all, though hell were their portion thereafter."
-
-He made a gesture as of throttling a giant, snatched his bundle from the
-woman's hand and took himself off up the road with long strides.
-
-*****
-
-That night was a stormy one. Herne the Hunter was covering the last ten
-miles between him and the Dismal in a pelting rain. The incident at the
-store, trivial as it was, had set his blood aflame. He prayed and fought
-against himself, oblivious of the elements and the darkness, sheltering
-his powder beneath his shirt of skins where his Bible lay secure. In his
-ears was the roar of wind and the groans of the tortured forest. Dark
-ravines yawned beside him, out of which the wolf howled and the mountain
-owl laughed; and once came a scream like a child, yet stronger and more
-prolonged. He knew the panther's voice, yet he heeded nothing.
-
-At last another cry, unmistakably human, rose nearer by. Then he paused,
-like a hound over a fresher scent, until it was repeated. He made his
-way around a shoulder of the mountain, and aided by the gray light of a
-cloud-hidden moon, approached the figures of a woman, a boy and a horse,
-all three dripping and motionless.
-
-"Thank God! we will not die here, after all," exclaimed the female, as
-Herne the Hunter grimly regarded them. "Oh, sir, we have missed the
-way. This boy was guiding me to the survey camp of Captain Renfro, my
-husband, on the upper Swananoa. He has sprained his foot, and we have
-been lost for hours. Can you take us to a place of shelter? I will pay
-you well--"
-
-"I hear a voice from the pit," said Herne, fiercely. "It is the way with
-your sex. You think, though you sink the world, that with money you can
-scale Heaven. Stay here--rot--starve--perish--what care I!"
-
-After this amazing outburst he turned away, but her terror of the night
-overbore her fear of this strange repulse, and she grasped his arm. He
-shook himself free, though the thrill accompanying her clasp staggered
-him. For years no woman's hand had touched him; but at this rebuff she
-sank down, crying brokenly:
-
-"What shall I do? I should not have started. They warned me below, but I
-thought the boy knew the way. Oh, sir! if you have a heart, do not leave
-us here."
-
-"A heart!" he cried. "What's that? A piece of flesh that breeds endless
-woes in bosoms such as yours. All men's should be of stone--as mine
-is now!" He paused, then said abruptly: "Up with you and follow me. I
-neither pity nor sympathize; but for the sake of her who bore me, I will
-give you such shelter as I have."
-
-He picked up the boy, who, knowing him, had sat stupefied with fear, and
-bade the woman follow him.
-
-"But the horse?" she said, hesitating.
-
-"Leave it," he replied. "The brute is the best among you, but whither we
-go no horse may follow."
-
-He turned, taking up the boy in his arms, and she dumbly followed him,
-trembling, faint, yet nerved by her fears to unusual exertion. So rapid
-was his gait, encumbered though he was, that she kept him in view with
-difficulty. Through the gloom she could divine the perils that environed
-their ever upward way. The grinding of stricken trees, the brawl of
-swollen waters harrowed her nerves not less than the partial gleams
-of unmeasured heights and depths revealed by the lightning. A sense of
-helplessness exaggerated these terrors among the unknown possibilities
-surrounding her.
-
-It seemed as though they would never stop again. Her limbs trembled, her
-heart thumped suffocatingly, yet their guide gave no heed, but pressed
-on as though no shivering woman pantingly dogged his steps. They
-traveled thus for several miles. She felt herself giving way totally
-when, on looking up once more, she saw that the hunter had vanished.
-
-"Where am I?" she cried, and a voice, issuing seemingly out of the
-mountain-side, bade her come on. Her hands struck a wall of rock; on her
-right a precipice yawned; so, groping toward the left, she felt as she
-advanced that she was leaving the outer air; the wind and rain no longer
-beat upon her, yet the darkness was intense.
-
-She heard the voice of the boy calling upon her to keep near. Into the
-bowels of the mountains she felt her way until a gleam of light shone
-ahead. She hastened forward round a shoulder of rock into a roomy
-aperture branching from the main cavern. The boy lay upon a pallet of
-skins, while Herne the Hunter fixed the flaring pine-knot he had lighted
-into a crevice of the rock. Then he started a fire, drew out of another
-crevice some cold cooked meat and filled a gourd with water from a
-spring that trickled out at one end of the cave.
-
-"Eat," he said, waving his hand. "Eat--that ye may not die. The more
-unfit to live, the less prepared for death. Eat!"
-
-With that he turned away and busied himself in bathing and bandaging the
-boy's foot, which, though not severely sprained, was for the time quite
-painful. Mrs. Renfro now threw back the hood of her waterproof and laid
-the cloak aside. Even old Herne--women hater that he was--could not
-have found fault with the matronly beauty of her face, unless with its
-expression of self-satisfied worldliness, as of one who judged others
-and herself solely by conventional standards, shaped largely by flattery
-and conceit.
-
-She was hungry--her fears were somewhat allayed, and though rather
-disgusted at such coarse diet, ate and drank with some relish.
-Meanwhile, Herne the Hunter turned from the boy for something, and
-beheld her face for the first time. A water-gourd fell from his hands,
-his eyes dilated, and he crouched as he gazed like a panther before its
-unsuspecting prey. Every fibre of his frame quivered, and drops of cold
-sweat stood out upon his forehead. The boy saw with renewed fear this
-new phase of old Herne's dreaded idiosyncrasies. Mrs. Renfro at length
-raised her eyes and beheld him thus. Instantly he placed his hands
-before his face, and abruptly left the cavern. Alarmed at his
-appearance, she ran toward the boy, exclaiming:
-
-"What _can_ be the matter with him? Do you know him?"
-
-"I knows more of him 'n I wants ter," replied the lad. "Oh, marm, that's
-old Herne, 'nd we uns air the fust ones ez hev be'n in hyar whar he
-stays. I ganny! I thort shore he'd hev yeaten ye up."
-
-"Well, but who is he?"
-
-"Well, they do say ez the devil yowns him, not but what he air
-powerful 'ligyus. No one knows much 'bouten him, 'cep'n' he's all'ays a
-projeckin' eround the Dismal whar no one yelse wants ter be."
-
-"Has he been here long?"
-
-"Yurs 'nd yurs, they say." Tommy shook his head as though unable to
-measure the years during which Herne the Hunter had been acquiring his
-present unsavory reputation, but solved the riddle by exclaiming: "I
-reckon he hev all'ays be'n that-a-way."
-
-An hour or more passed. Tommy fell asleep, while the lady sat musing by
-his side. She did not feel like sleeping, though much fatigued. Finally
-she heard a deep sigh behind her, and turning saw the object of her
-fears regarding her sombrely. The sight of her face appeared to shock
-him, for he turned half away as he said:
-
-"You have eaten the food that is the curse of life, in that it sustains
-it. Yet such we are. Sleep, therefore, for you have weary miles to go,
-ere you can reach the Swananoa."
-
-There was an indescribable sadness in his tone that touched her, and she
-regarded him curiously.
-
-"Who are you," she asked, "and why do you choose to live in such a place
-as this?"
-
-"Ask naught of me," he said, with an energy he seemed unable to repress.
-"Ask rather of yourself who am I and how came I--thus."
-
-He struck himself upon the breast, and without awaiting an answer again
-abruptly left the cave. She sat there wondering, trying to-weave into
-definite shape certain vague impressions suggested by his presence,
-until weariness overcame her and she slept.
-
-Hours after, Herne the Hunter reentered the cave, bearing a torch. His
-garments were wet, the rain-drops clung to his hair, and his face was
-more haggard than ever. He advanced towards the slumbering woman softly,
-and stood over her, gazing mournfully upon her, while large tears rolled
-down his cheeks. Then his expression changed to one that was stern and
-vindictive. His hand nervously toyed with the knife in his belt. Milder
-thoughts again seemed to sway him, and his features worked twitchingly.
-
-"I cannot, I cannot," he whispered to himself. "The tears I thought
-forever banished from these eyes return at this sight. There has never
-been another who could so move me. Though thou hast been my curse, and
-art yet my hell--I cannot do it. Come! protector of my soul; stand thou
-between me and all murderous thoughts!"
-
-He drew his Bible from his bosom, kissed it convulsively, then held it
-as though to guard her from himself, and drawing backward slowly, he
-again fled into the storm and darkness without.
-
-*****
-
-The gray light of morning rose over the Dismal, though within the cave
-the gloom still reigned supreme, when Herne the Hunter again stood at
-the entrance holding a flaring light. Then he said aloud: "Wake, you
-that sleep under the shadow of death! Wake, eat, and--pass on!" Mrs.
-Renfro aroused herself. The boy, however, slept on. Herne fixed
-his torch in the wall, and replenished the fire. Then he withdrew,
-apparently to give the lady privacy in making her toilet.
-
-She was stiff in limb and depressed in mind. After washing at the
-spring, she wandered listlessly about the cave, surveying old Herne's
-scanty store of comforts. Suddenly she paused before a faded picture,
-framed in long, withered moss, that clung to an abutment of the rock.
-It was that of a girl, fair, slender and ethereal. There was a wealth of
-hair, large eyes, and features so faultless that the witching sense of
-self-satisfaction permeating them, added to rather than marred their
-loveliness.
-
-The lady--glancing indifferently--suddenly felt a thrill and a pain.
-A deadly sense of recognition nearly overcame her, as this
-memento--confronting her like a resurrected chapter of the past--made
-clear the hitherto inexplicable behavior of their host. She recovered,
-and looked upon it tenderly, then shook her head gently and sighed.
-
-"You cannot recognize it!" said a deep voice behind her. "You dare
-not! For the sake of your conscience--your hope in heaven--your fear of
-hell--you dare not recognize and look upon me!"
-
-She did not look round, though she knew that Herne the Hunter stood
-frowning behind, but trembled in silence as he went on with increasing
-energy:
-
-"What does that face remind you of? See you aught beneath that beauty
-but treachery without pity, duplicity without shame? Lo! the pity and
-the shame you should have felt have recoiled upon me--me, who alone have
-suffered." He broke off abruptly, as though choked by emotion. She dared
-not face him; she felt incapable of a reply. After a pause, he resumed,
-passionately: "Oh! Alice, Alice! The dead rest, yet the living dead can
-only endure. Amid these crags, and throughout the solitude of years, I
-have fought and refought the same old battle; but with each victory it
-returns upon me, strengthened by defeat, while with me all grows weaker
-but the remorselessness of memory and the capacity for pain."
-
-She still stood, with bowed head, shivering as though his words were
-blows.
-
-"Have you nothing to say?" he asked. "Does that picture of your own
-youth recall no vanished tenderness for one who--self-outcast of
-men--fell to that pass through you?"
-
-"I have a husband," she murmured, almost in a whisper.
-
-"Aye, and because of that husband I have no wife--no wife--no wife!"
-His wailing repetition seemed absolutely heartbroken; but sternly he
-continued: "You have told me where he is. I say to you--hide
-him--hide him from me! Even this"--he struck his bosom with his Bible
-feverishly--"may not save him. I have prayed and wrought, but it is as
-nothing--nothing--when I think--when I remember. Therefore, hide him
-from me--lest I slay him--"
-
-"You would not--you dare not harm him!" She faced him now, a splendid
-picture of an aroused wife and mother. "He is not to blame--he knew you
-not--he has been good to me--and--and--I love him."
-
-He shrank from the last words as though from a blow, and stood cowering.
-Then he hissed out:
-
-"Let me not find him. Hide him--hide him!"
-
-Tommy here awoke with a yawn, and announced that his foot was about
-well. Herne, closing his lips, busied himself about preparing breakfast,
-which cheerless meal was eaten in silence. When they finally emerged
-from the cave the sun was peeping into the Dismal below them; bright
-gleams chased the dark shadows down the cliffs, and the morning mists
-were melting. The storm was over; there was a twitter of birds, the
-tinkle of an overflowing burn, and a squirrel's bark emphasizing the
-freshness of the morn. The pure air entered the lips like wine, and Mrs.
-Renfro felt her depression roll off as they retraced the devious trail
-of the night before.
-
-They found the lady's horse standing dejectedly near where he had been
-left. The fog, in vast rolls, was climbing out of the Dismal, disclosing
-dark masses of forest below. The flavor of pine and balsam slept
-beneath the trees, every grass blade was diamond-strewn, and every sound
-vivified by the sense of mighty walls and unsounded depths.
-
-After Mrs. Renfro had mounted, Herne the Hunter swept an arm around. The
-scene was savage and sombre, despite the sunlight. The intensity of the
-solitude about them dragged upon the mind like a weight.
-
-"Behold," he said sadly, "this is my world. I can tolerate no other."
-
-She inwardly shuddered; then a wave of old associations swept over her
-mind. Beneath the austerity of the man, beyond his selfish nurture of
-affliction, she--for the moment--remembered him as he once was, homely,
-kindly, enthusiastic and true. Had _she_ indeed changed him to this? Or
-was it not rather the imperativeness of a passion, unable to endure
-or forget her preference of another? Whatever the cause, her heart now
-ached for him, though she feared him.
-
-"Come with us," she said. "You were not made to live thus."
-
-"I cannot--I dare not. It will take months to undo the misery of this
-meeting."
-
-"My husband--"
-
-"Do not name him!" he cried fiercely; then abruptly lowering his tone,
-he said, with infinite sadness: "Ask me no more. Yonder, by that white
-cliff, lies the Swan-anoa trail you missed yesterday. The kindest thing
-you can do is to forget that you have seen me. Farewell!"
-
-He turned away and swung himself down the mountain-side into the Dismal.
-She saw the rolling mists close over him, and remained motionless in a
-reverie so deep that the boy spoke twice to her before she turned her
-horse's head and followed him.
-
-* * * * *
-
-Above the surveyor's camp lay the Swananoa Gap, a gloomy, precipitous
-gorge through which the river lashed itself into milder reaches below.
-Mrs. Renfro found her husband absent. With a single assistant he had
-started for the upper defiles, intending to be gone several days. They
-told her that he would endeavor to secure the services of Herne the
-Hunter as a guide, as one knowing more of that wilderness than any one
-else.
-
-Here was fresh food for wifely alarm. Herne had never met her husband,
-yet the latter's name would make known his relationship to herself. She
-shuddered over the possibilities that might result from their sojourn
-together--far from aid--in those wild mountains, and made herself
-wretched for a week in consequence.
-
-Meanwhile the transient fine weather passed; the rains once more
-descended, and the peaks of Nantahalah were invisible for days amid a
-whirl of vapor. The boom of the river, the grinding of forest limbs,
-the shriek of the wind, made life unusually dreary at the camp. She lay
-awake one night when the elements were apparently doing their worst. Her
-husband was still absent--perhaps alone with a possible maniac, raving
-over the memory of fancied wrongs.
-
-Finally another sound mingled with and at last overmastered all
-others--something between a crash and a roar, interblended with
-sullen jars and grindings. Near and nearer it came. She sprang to the
-tent-floor and found her feet in the water. The darkness was intense.
-What could be the matter? Fear overcame her resolution and she shrieked
-aloud.
-
-A man bearing a lantern burst into the tent with a hoarse cry. Its
-gleams showed her Herne the Hunter, drenched, draggled, a ghastly cut
-across his face, with the blood streaming down, his long hair flying,
-and in his eyes a fierce flame.
-
-"I feared I would not find you," he shouted, for the roar without was
-now appalling. "It is a cloud-burst above. In five minutes this hollow
-will be fathoms deep. The tents lower down are already gone. Come!"
-
-He had seized and was bearing her out.
-
-"Save--alarm the others!" she cried.
-
-"You first--Alice."
-
-In that dread moment she detected the hopelessness with which he called
-her thus, as though such recognition was wrung from his lips by the pain
-he hugged, even while it rended him.
-
-"My husband?" she gasped, growing faint over the thought of his possible
-peril--or death.
-
-"Safe," he hissed through his clenched teeth, for his exertions were
-tremendous. With a fierce flap the tent was swept away as they left
-it. About his knees the waters swirled, while limbs and other floating
-debris swept furiously by.
-
-What seemed to her minutes--though really seconds--passed amid a
-terrific jumble of sounds, while the rain fell in sheets. It seemed
-as though the invisible mountains were dissolving. They were, however,
-slowly rising above the floods. She heard Herne's hard breathing, and
-felt his wild heart-throbs as he held her close. Something heavy struck
-them, or rather him, for he shielded her. One of his arms fell limp, and
-he groaned heavily. Then she swooned away, with a fleeting sensation of
-being grasped by some one else.
-
-Later, when she revived, there was a great hush in the air. Below, the
-river gently brawled-; there was a misty darkness around, and the gleam
-of a lantern held before a dear and familiar form.
-
-"Husband--is it you?" she murmured.
-
-"Yes, yes," said Captain Renfro, "I thought I had lost you. You owe
-your life to Herne the Hunter. In fact, but for him I would have been
-overwhelmed myself."
-
-"Where is he?" she asked feebly.
-
-"The men are searching for him. Just as one of them got hold of you, he
-fell back--something must have struck him, and the flood swept him off.
-I tell you, Alice, that man--crazy or not--is a hero. We were on our way
-down and had camped above the Gap, when the cloud-burst came. We knew
-you all would be overwhelmed before we could get round here by the
-trail; so what does Herne do but send us on horseback by land, while
-he scoots down that Canyon in a canoe--little better than an eggshell.
-Risked his life in that awful place to get here in time. I insisted on
-going with him at first."
-
-"Just like you, George," said the wife fondly, though in her mind's eye
-came a vision of Herne the Hunter battling with that Niagara to save
-and unite the two, through whom his own life had been made a burden. She
-sighed and clasped her husband's hand, while he resumed:
-
-"I was a fool, I expect, for the canoe would have swamped under both of
-us. He knew this, and ordered me off with a look I did not like;
-there was madness in it. Well, we hurried round by the trail with, one
-lantern; Herne took the other. When we got here, you were apparently
-dead, Herne and two of the men swept off--the camp gone from below, and
-so on."
-
-A cry was now heard. Several men hastened down, and soon lights were
-seen returning. Four of them bore Herne the Hunter. One arm and a leg
-were broken, and his skull crushed in; yet the wonderful vitality of the
-man had kept him alive and sensible.
-
-"We found him clinging to a sapling," said one. "But he's about
-gone--poor fellow!"
-
-Poor fellow, indeed! Mrs. Renfro felt the lumps rise in her throat as
-she gazed upon that wreck, and thought. Presently Herne opened his
-eyes--already filling with the death-mist--and his gaze fell upon her
-face.
-
-"Alice," he whispered, "my troubles--are over. This"--he tugged at
-something in his bosom with his uninjured arm, when some one drew forth
-his Bible, drenched and torn--"this saved me. I could have killed him--"
-he glanced at Renfro, who amid his pity now wondered. "I could--but--I
-saved you. And--now--Jesus--have mercy--"
-
-These were his last words, for in another minute Herne the Hunter was a
-thing of the past, and a weeping woman bent over him. After that there
-was silence for a while. Then the wife said to her husband, while the
-others removed the dead man:
-
-"It was his misfortune, not my fault, that he loved me. Has he not made
-amends?"
-
-And the husband, with his hands clasped in hers, could find no other
-heart than to say:
-
-"Aye--most nobly!"
-
-
-
-
-UNCLE DUKE'S "B'AR" STORY, By Lillian Gilfillan
-
-
-|I 'LOWED ez mebbe you uns ud like ter hear thet thar b'ar story. I
-reckon it's ten year this December since it all happened. I war a-livin'
-up in thet house on th' edge uv th' corn fiel' 'long side th' branch,
-an' ef it 't'warn't fer thet b'ar I'd be a-livin' thar yet, 'stead uv
-a-settin' in th' warm corner uv Jim Ladd's fireplace.
-
-I 'low ez yer knowed Jim didn't hev no great sight uv worldly efects
-when he married Becky Crabtree; I don't reckon his daddy war able ter do
-much fer him, 'ceptin' 'lowin' him the use uv thet yoke uv ole steers uv
-his'n.
-
-Thet war afore they moved th' mill out'n th' holler yander, so it war
-right handy fer Jim ter haul his logs ter, an' he jes' worked hisse'f
-plumb nigh ter death a-gettin' up thet leetle log house uv his'n, an'
-a-plantin' fruit trees an' sech, an' all summer Becky worked jes' ez
-hard a-berry pickin', tendin' her truck patch an' a-peddlin' up ter th'
-station.
-
-An' in th' winter time when Jim war a-makin' dish shelves an' a-puttin'
-some new splits inter th' bottoms uv them ole chiers his daddy give him,
-Becky war a-peecin' quilts an' a-spinnin' cloth fer dresses. Waal, in
-th' spring they war married an' went ter live in ther house on th' side
-uv th' mounting, out'n no neighbors, 'ceptin' me, fer a mile or more
-down th' cove.
-
-Thet war th' spring I war tuck so bad with this misery in my back an'
-afore summer I war so cript up I warn't no 'count whatever.
-
-One mornin' jes' ez I war a gettin' up from afore the fire whar I hed
-been a-eatin' a snack uv breakfast, Becky walked in, lookin' ez fresh ez
-a fiel' uv early corn, and sez:
-
-"Uncle Duke, I 'lowed I'd come in an' see how you war an' rid up a
-leetle fur yer."
-
-I h'ant never been used ter wimen folks, an' I could'nt git th' consent
-uv my mind ter set by an' see every thin' pot out'n its nat'ral place,
-so I reched my stick an' out'n sayin' nothin' I riz up an' went out
-under th' big gum tree.
-
-It warn't long afore Becky kem out with her bucket on her arm, an' sez:
-
-"Good-bye, Uncle Duke. I reckon I'll be a-gittin' along ter th' berry
-patch yan-der."
-
-I sed, "Thank yer, Becky. Don't yer come no more ter tend ter me. I 'low
-you's got a plenty ter do 'out'n a-doin' thet."
-
-Yer see, I didn't want ter be pestered with her fixin', yit she was so
-obleegin' ter everybody I didn't want ter 'fend her by axin' her ter
-stay ter hum. Waal, when I went in an' seed how piert things looked, I
-jes' wished I'd a-kep' my pipe in my mouth 'stead uv a-jawin' her. Spite
-uv my sayin' time an' ag'in fer her ter rest when her own work war done,
-she kep' a-comin'. I 'lowed she seed how much I enjoyed havin' things
-liken white folks lived in the house.
-
-I 'low she war jes' ez bright an' happy thet year ez enny woman in the
-cove ez hed a plenty.
-
-An' summer an' winter she 'peared ter be always a-workin'.
-
-Waal in th' middle uv March leetle Jim kem, and I reckon thar warn't
-no two happier people in th' world. They war proud uv thet baby, an' no
-mistake.
-
-The fust time I seed Becky arter it war born, she pulled a leetle hand
-out'n from under th' kiver an' sez:
-
-"Uncle Duke, some day thet leetle han'll chop wood fur his mammy."
-
-Waal, it did'nt look much like handlin' an axe thin.
-
-Thet summer she use ter roll th' baby up in her daddie's ole army
-blanket an' take it with her berry pickin' an' peddlin' an' everywhars;
-it 'peared like she didn't think its weight nothin', un' she'd go
-'long th' road talkin' ter it like ez ef a baby four months ole knowed
-ennythin'. With th' money from her berries she bought th' winter
-clothes--mostely things fur th' baby an' flannel shirts fur her
-man--'peared like she thought th' cold wouldn't tech her.
-
-It war th' last uv th' next June thet th' twins war born. This time
-Becky didn't seem ter git 'long so piert--jes' lay still an' pale like,
-an' a lookin' at the baby gals sad an' pityin'. I reckon she war a
-wonderin' whar th' warm winter clothes they'd need by' an' by' war
-ter be got from. It warn't in reason ter 'spose a woman could tote two
-babies an' do much at pickin' berries.
-
-Jim worked ez hard ez enny man could, but his ole mare died jist at
-fodder pickin' time, an' he couldn't do much out'n a critter, so a right
-smart uv his crap war lost. Becky didn't seem ter get strong ez she did
-afore, an' her sister up an' left her sooner 'en she oughter. She seemed
-tar be kinder mad all th' time ter think Becky had gone an' hed twins,
-an' she didn't keep her 'pinions hid. I reckon Becky warn't sorry when
-she went back ter her man.
-
-Ez I war a-sayin', it war ten year ago this December, an' a right smart
-uv snow on th' ground, when Becky came by my house one mornin' ter ax me
-ef I'd go down an' watch th' fire an' leetle Jim fer a spell. I seed she
-war lookin' anxious like, an' I axed her what war th' matter.
-"Jim went a-rabbit huntin' yesterday evenin'," she sed, "an' he ain't
-kem hum yit; I reckon somethin' hes happened ter him, an' I 'lowed I'd
-go an' see. The babies ez both asleep an' I speck ter be home afore
-long."
-
-She went on up th' mounting path a-makin' fur the top, a-holpin' herse'f
-over the sleek places with that hickory stick uv her'n.
-
-I went on down ter th' house an' found leetle Jim a-noddin' afore th'
-fire. It war about'n th' time he always tuck his nap. Pretty soon he
-war ez sound asleep ez ef he war on th' biggest feather bed in th' cove,
-'stead uv jes' his mammy's cook apron under his little yaller head.
-
-I pot on a fresh log an' was mighty nigh asleep myse'f when one o' th'
-babies waked up an' cried a leetle.
-
-Somehow I got th' cradle in an awk'ard place acrost a plank ez war all
-warped up an' th' churnin' back an' fore waked up th' t'other 'un.
-She jes' lay thar a-look-in' fust at me an' then at her leetle sister,
-kinder onsartin whether ter cry or not.
-
-By an' by I thought I'd holp her back ter sleep, so I tuck her leetle
-han' an' tried ter pot her thumb in ter her mouth, but thar warn't
-nobody knowed enny better thin thet thar baby thet she didn't want no
-thumb feedin'. I got up an' went fur some milk, fust a-lookin' out'n th'
-door ter see ef Becky war a-comin'.
-
-Seein' ez thar warn't no sign uv her no-whar, I 'lowed I try ter feed
-th' young uns, beein's th' both uv them war a-doin' ther best at cryin'.
-
-They didn't seem ter take much ter my feedin'; I reckon thet war 'cause
-I didn't set th' milk afore th' fire fust, an' somehow it 'peared like'
-th' milk most in general went down th' outside uv ther necks; an' Annie
-(that war th' little un) kept a chokin' tell I had ter take her up. Jes'
-ez soon ez thet leetle critter got whar she could look 'round an' sense
-things, she 'peared quite satisfied.
-
-I managed ter git t'other un (Fannie) out'n the cradle. They jumped an'
-twisted tell I thought I'd die uv the misery in my back, but whin I pot
-them down they yelled like hallelujer!
-
-'Peard like they'd kept me a-dancin' a powerful long time, whin I heerd
-voices an' I 'lowed Becky war come, but it turned out ter be Mitch
-Pendergrass an' Sonk Levan, with some rabbits an' ther guns. They hed
-stopped by ter git warm.
-
-Whin they seed me a-settin' thar nussin' two babies ter onct they bust
-out larfin'. Fannie hed holt uv my left year an' the leetle hair I hed
-on my head. Annie war a-sittin' on my knee a gazin' at Sonk an' Mitch,
-a-wonderin' why they war a-larfin'.
-
-"I 'low, Uncle Duke," sez Sonk, "ez yer've tuck ter lamin' nussin' late
-in life. It shows yer pluck ter commence on two ter onct. Whar's Becky?"
-
-"She air gone ter look fer Jim," sez I. "He went out a-huntin' last
-night an' he ain't never come hum this mornin'. She war oneasy 'bout him
-an' went out ter look fur him. 'Lowed ez she'd be hum afore this."
-
-Mitch went ter the door an' looked out an' thin cornin' back ter th'
-fire, sez he:
-
-"It's arter twelve o'clock, nigh ez I kin calkerlate. Thar seems ter be
-a big black cloud a-hangin' over th' Top.
-
-"Becky ought'en ter be out in no sich. I reckon we'd better be a-movin'.
-Mebbe Jim's happened ter an acci_tent_ an' she's a-tryin' ter holp him
-by herse'f.
-
-"She's plucky, _she_ is."
-
-"Waal," sez Sonk, "Mitch, you give Uncle Duke a lesson in baby feedin'
-(the father uv ten ought'n ter know somethin' bout'n thet business);
-I'll tote in enough wood ter burn a spell, an' thin we'll light out'n
-hyar an' hunt up Becky an' Jim." Arter Mitch's learnin' me ter hold th'
-spoon un' ter warm th' milk an' ter pot in sweetenin' me an' th' babies
-got on fine. Soon I hed them both sleepin', kivered up ter th' years,
-an' th' cradle sot in a warm place. Then I began ter feel powerful
-hungry, an' leetle Jim, though he ain't sed nothin', hed been a-watchin'
-thet thar spoon an' milk cup while I fed th' babies, an' a openin' his
-mouth long side uf them.
-
-I skun one uv Sonk's rabbits, an' it warn't no time tel th' corn bread
-war a-cookin' in th' bake pan an' th' rabbit a-jumpin' up in th' grease.
-
-Arter dinner Jim set on my knee jes' ez quiet, never axin' fer his mammy
-onct, an' thim babies slept on jes' like they knowed they war twins
-an' ther mammy gone. Pretty soon it began ter get dark an' th' snow war
-a-fallin' ag'in a leetle. Jim went ter sleep an' I pot him ter bed. The
-time 'peared ter go powerful slow arter that, an' I began ter nod.
-
-It must have been eight o'clock whin voices in th' yard waked me. I
-opened th' door an' Mitch called out:
-
-"Stir up the fire an' give us a leetle more light. Thar ain't no bones
-broke, but Jim don't feel egsactly piert."
-
-They brung him in an' his face war jes' ez pale an' he looked powerful
-weak.
-
-Most of his coat war tore of'en him an' th' blood war a-droppin' from
-a place in his arm. Becky looked plumb wore out, but th' fust thin' she
-did soon ez Jim war on th' bed war ter lean over th' cradle an' sez:
-
-"Uncle Duke, war my babies good?"
-
-"Jes' ez good ez two leetle angels," I sed, spitin' th' fact th' side uv
-my head war pretty sore from ther pullin' an' scratchin'.
-
-She helped ter git Jim's arm wrapped up an' him warm in bed, an' thin
-began ter get supper, like nothin' hed happened out'n th' common. Whin I
-seed how pale she looked, I sed:
-
-"Jus' yer git out th' plates an' I'll tend the fire. I 'low arter
-cookin' fer nigh thirty year, I kin git a snack yer can eat."
-
-It twarn't long until another rabbit war in th' pan an' th' coffee
-a-boilin'. Jim looked up whin he smelt the cookin' an' sez:
-
-"I reckon we'll hev a little bigger meat fer to-morrow."
-
-I war jes' ez curious ez enny ole woman, but everybody was so tired an'
-hungry I didn't ax anny questions.
-
-Becky war a-sittin' in a low chier afore th' fire with leetle Jim on her
-lap a-warm-in' his leetle feet in her han'. I could see th' tears war
-a-chasin' each other down her face.
-
-Mon! but they did eat. Jim, too, and I had' ter git th' cold meat left
-from dinner ter hev enough.
-
-When they hed got up from th' table Sonk sed:
-
-"Mitch, your wife'll need you with all thim chil'n; I 'low you'd better
-be a-goin'. I reckon I'll stop hyer; step by an' tell Sallie ter hev
-breakfast early, an' tell leetle Lular pappy'll be home in th' mornin'.
-You hev th' mules ready early; I am afeard uv th' varmints a-gittin'
-Becky's game."
-
-Arter Mitch war gone an' things picked up they told me ther story.
-
-'Pears like thar warn't no trouble in a trackin' Becky up ter th' top,
-an' they found her a-tryin' ter work Jim out'n a hole in th' bluff.
-
-Th' night afore, jes' ez Jim war a-makin' fur hum with his game, he hed
-run agin' a big b'ar. He up an' fired, but missed, it bein' most dark.
-The b'ar war on him afore he could load agin, an' makin' a pass at him
-with its big paw, knocked th' musket out'n his han's an' bruck it plumb
-in two. Jim hed jes' time ter make up a saplin' an' Mr. B'ar set down
-under him ter bide his time.
-
-He sot thar a long spell, an' it war most midnight, nigh ez Jim could
-tell, whin the b'ar made off an' lay down, seein' Jim warn't willin' ter
-come down an' be et. Waal, Jim decided thin he would come down an' run
-fur it, 'lowin' a hot chase war better'n freezin' up thar. So down he
-dumb an' lit out, Mr. B'ar arter him. Jes' ez they struck the bluff path
-the b'ar got so near thet it riz up an' grabbed him. Jim bein' quick
-got away, leavin' Mr. B'ar most uv his coat ter 'member him by, but in
-backin' away he wint too far an' fell inter a crack in th' bluff.
-
-It warn't very nice failin', but the crack warn't over four feet deep
-an' full uv leaves at the bottom, so bein' out'n the wind they made a
-more comfortable place ter spend th' night in then th' saplin'.
-
-Pretty soon Jim hed occasion ter know he war hurt some.
-
-The bar had tore his left arm right smart an' in fallin' his face hed
-got skun up dreadful. Th' b'ar walked up an' down, a-smellin' down thet
-crack sorter much like, but by-an'-by he went off a leetle an' lay down,
-I spect arguin' with hisse'f thet Jim would come out'n th' hole liken he
-did out'n th' saplin.'
-
-Jim wrapped up his arm the best he could with a piece uv his shirt
-sleeve.
-
-It war daylight when he waked an' th' fust thin' he seed war th' head uv
-thet thar b'ar a-lookin' down at him.
-
-He knowed it war'n't no use ter holler, so he jes' lay thar thinkin'
-'bout Becky an' th' babies an' leetle Jim--wonderin' ef she'd think he'd
-quit her.
-
-The thought uv Becky's thinkin' enny bad uv him made him groan with a
-new kind uv pain, an' whin he moved a leetle he fainted away. I reckon
-thet war jes' 'bout'n th' time Becky got thar, fer she said she heerd a
-groan down in thet hole an' thin all war still. She war jes' a-goin' ter
-call whin she spied thet b'ar a-lookin' down inter th' crack.
-
-'Bout ten foot to th' left uv whar Jim war fust the mounting breaks
-away, leavin' a pres'pus uv forty foot or more, but thar's a leetle
-ledge at th' top whar you kin look inter thet crack in th' bluff.
-
-It war fur thet leetle ledge the b'ar made jes' ez Becky halted. When
-it clumb down she made sure it would git ter Jim (she war sure he war in
-thet crack), so she follered quiet ez she could, an th' snow bein' soft
-kept th' b'ar from hearing her--until she war right behind it--whar it
-war leanin' down over th' edge a-tryin' ter git inter th' crack. 'Fore
-it could turn on her she gave it a powerful push with her hickory stick,
-an' being so fur over an' so heavy the b'ar lost hisse'f, an' down he
-went with a crash into th' underbrush.
-
-Becky'd gone too, only her dress war caught in some bushes an' thet
-saved her.
-
-She couldn't do nothin' but lay on th' ground an' rest a spell, thin she
-crawled ter th' edge an' looked down ter make sure th' b'ar war dead.
-
-Hearin' Jim groan agin she got up an' went ter him.
-
-He war clean gone in a faint agin before she could get down ter him.
-When she got him to again she gave him th' flask uv milk she hed
-brought.
-
-She worked with him ter keep him warm, but she couldn't do much,
-th' place war so norrow. It seemed an age before he got so he knowed
-anythin', an' she had made up her mind ter leave him an' go fur help
-whin Sonk and Mitch got thar. An' 'twixt 'm they soon got Jim out an'
-laid him on the ole army blanket I hed sent, an' they axed Becky how
-come he thar. She told them what she knowed, but they wouldn't believe
-about th' b'ar until she showed them whar it lay. Whin Mitch looked over
-an' seed fur hisse'f he jis' sed 'By Gosh!' an' runnin' back to whar he
-could scramble down made down th' side like a coon. Sonk war about ter
-follow, when he stopped an' turned ter Becky, tellin' her ter see ter
-Jim till they could come up agin. He give her a bottle uv applejack
-out'n his pocket, which he said he carried fur snake bite. Becky never
-said nothin' 'bout'n snakes most in general stayin' in th' ground in
-winter time, but gave a little of the liquor ter Jim an' tuck a leetle
-dram herse'f.
-
-I reckon ef it hadn't been fer Sonk's snake medicine, they both a-been
-down sick from th' cold an' wet.
-
-Ez soon ez th' men could git a good kiverin' uv snow over th' b'ar ter
-keep wild cats from pesterin' it, they kem up an' took up th' ends uv
-Jim's blanket ter fotch him hum. It war slow work, th' path bein' steep
-an' norrow, an' Jim heavy, so it war eight o'clock afore they got down.
-Waal, th' next day they got th' bar down, an' mon! he war a big 'un.
-
-They skun him an' put th' meat up fur sale at th' store. A young fellar
-from th' North ez war a-stayin' at th' station give Becky $12 fur th'
-hide, ter take home ter his gal, I reckon.
-
-The meat sold well, an' altergether I reckon Becky never seed so much
-money at one time afore in her life. She wanted ter divide with Sonk
-an' Mitch, but they wouldn't hear to it, an' she couldn't make them took
-nary cent. Afore th' week war out she went ter th' station an' bought
-shoes an' warm clothes fur all an' enough ter last two winters, an' soon
-Becky's fingers war busy. She made some red flannel shirts fur me,
-'cause she sed they be good fer th' misery in my back.
-
-An' whin I sed my fire hed been out a week an' I'd eat enough uv other
-folks' corn bread an' coffee, Becky up and sed:
-
-"I 'low ez yer'd better stay, Uncle Duke; I've got a sight uv sewin'
-ter do an' yer got ter be so handy with th' babies I can't hardly spare
-yer."
-
-Arter thet we jined corn fiel's an' next year war a powerful good one
-fer craps an' fruit.
-
-I tended th' chil'n while Becky went fur berries and did her peddlin'.
-
-We ain't a-gettin' rich, but we has a plenty, an' I don't reckon we air
-got anythin' in a worldly line to ax th' Lord fur he ain't already done
-give us.
-
-[Illustration: 5184]
-
-
-
-
-A CIGARETTE FROM CARCINTO, By Edward French
-
-_A Bit of Mexican Adventure_.
-
-
-|WE were sitting in the hotel in San Antonio, and the conversation had
-taken that satisfactory turn and confidential coloring which it will
-take amongst congenial companions round an open wood fire.
-
-[Illustration: 9185]
-
-We had been expressing our individual opinions about men and things,
-especially men, and had derived a sleepy satisfaction from our general
-criticisms. There were men among us who had seen a good deal of frontier
-life, and, as one man said, "he had seen so many men die with their
-boots on, it seemed the natural end." My nearest neighbor in the circle
-was a young artist from New Orleans, known throughout the city as "Jim
-the Painter," from the art he practiced to get his living. He turned and
-asked me if I knew Jack Dunton; and when I denied the honor, he said:
-"Well, you ought to; he is a map of the whole Indian country."
-
-This awakened my interest. I found that Dunton was living in San
-Antonio, that his life had been really wonderful in experiences and
-adventures, that he was very intelligent as well as recklessly
-brave, and finally, that his acquaintance was worth any man's time to
-cultivate. Later in the evening we walked over to Dunton's office,
-a long, pleasant room in the second story of a flat-roofed _adobe_
-building that covered nearly half an acre. Both its stories were
-crammed full of the goods he sold--wagons, harnesses, and all sorts of
-agricultural tools.
-
-Dunton's own room was a mighty interesting place, principally in its
-decorations. The walls and doorways were hung with bright-colored and
-strange-figured Mojave and Navajoe blankets, skins and weapons were
-scattered around or arranged as trophies, while clumsy and rude
-implements of Aztec and Mexican fashioning, from Yucatan to Chihuahua,
-were suspended against the sides, or heaped in the corners. A large open
-fire, with blazing cedar logs, filled the room with the aromatic odor
-so pleasant and characteristic of that wood, and lighted it with
-fitful glares. There were many interesting stories connected with this
-collection, and every article in the room seemed to remind Dunton of an
-experience or incident in his varied career. After being introduced and
-comfortably seated in a chair, he passed us cigars, and while we were
-lighting these preliminaries to sociability he drew a square of corn
-husk from one side-pocket of his sack coat and a pinch of tobacco from
-the other side-pocket, and quietly rolled a cigarette, which gave out a
-pungent, penetrating odor. It was not disagreeable, but it struck me as
-being peculiar, even for Texas. Upon remarking that it seemed different
-from ordinary tobacco, Dunton replied, "It is, and I have good reason to
-like it, for once it saved my life."
-
-This aroused my curiosity, and with some little urging he told us the
-story. "This tobacco," said Dunton, "comes from the town of Carcinto,
-quite a mining settlement of _adobe_ houses and stockades, surrounding
-a Mexican convict station in the center of the state of Chihuahua. It is
-made by the convicts, who treat the ordinary tobacco with the juice of
-a native plant, which gives it the pungent flavor you notice and, I
-suspect, a slight narcotic power; be that as it may, now that I am used
-to it, other tobacco is flat and tasteless. I was down there some years
-ago, trying to sell the mine-owners some carts, harness, and things in
-my line, and I became well acquainted with the nature of these convicts,
-and I tell you, I would rather take my chances in a den of mountain
-lions than among those fellows when they revolt. At such times they are
-madly insane, and nothing is too hellish for them.
-
-"I had made a good thing of my deal and was anxiously waiting for an
-escort,--for I had four thousand Mexican dollars, and a man of my shape
-takes no chances in toting money around in that country.
-
-"The day that I remember particularly--and you will see I have reason
-to--was the day before I was to go out from the mine with the mule
-train. That afternoon I went in the levels with Senor Bustino, one of
-the owners, a gentleman, every inch of him--and I tell you, no finer
-gentleman walks the earth than a high-caste Mexican of Castilian blood.
-
-"I had sold them a few dozen American pickaxes, and one of the convict
-gangs was to try them that day for the first time. It was the first lot
-of pickaxes ever used in that mine, and, as the sequel proved, the last.
-The men were doing with them twice the business they had formerly done
-with their clumsy heavy hoes. Two soldiers with _escopetas_ were on
-guard, and two overseers with pistols and heavy canes were directing
-the work. To get a better and nearer view, Sefior Bustino and I crowded
-through until we came to the rotten ledge filled with the silver, upon
-which they worked. The convicts stopped and gazed upon us curiously,
-some of them pushing back their long black hair out of their eyes
-and staring with undisguised wonder at me, for I was a _gringo_, a
-_heretico_, and a strange object to them in those early days, with my
-paler skin and peculiar dress. Near me was a large black fellow, bare
-to the waist.. He was short-necked and broad-shouldered, and his cheeks
-were so high as to partly close his little fierce eyes; his nose was low
-and flat, while his chin was sharp and prominent, with a deep scowl;
-in fact, a bundle of animal appetites and passions done up in a hideous
-form. As we passed he drew from the folds of his drawers--the only
-clothing he wore--a pinch of tobacco and a com husk, and making a
-cigarette he stepped to one of the grease-wood torches and lighted it,
-blowing out a great cloud of pungent, aromatic smoke from his broad
-nostrils, that filled the space around us with the odor you noticed from
-my cigarette.
-
-"That was my first experience with that tobacco, and, indeed, my first
-smell of its peculiar odor, and I have never forgotten it. I dined that
-evening with the old senor and was introduced to his family; his wife, a
-Mexican lady prematurely aged--as they all are, two daughters, handsome
-as angels, and was shown the picture of their son, a young man who was
-then being educated in Paris. They were delightful people, especially
-to one who had been trucking for weeks across the dusty plains of
-Chihuahua, with only _peons_ and mules for company, and we had a fiery
-Mexican dinner, spiced with the jokes of the village priest, who was an
-honored guest. At ten, with the hearty wishes of the whole family, and
-after the elaborate Mexican custom of withdrawal, I left them. As I
-sauntered out in the moonlight I could not shut out of my mind the
-brutish face of the convict in the mine. Perhaps the round faces and
-handsome eyes of the senor's pretty daughters may have emphasized the
-memory of the convict's ugly head; otherwise I was in a happy mood.
-
-"I turned the corner of the street and entered a short dark lane that
-led toward the prison stockade. There was an occasional _adobe_ house,
-but the street was mostly lined with the miserable mud _jacals_ of the
-poorer Mexicans. I had hardly gotten well into it when I sniffed
-the same pungent odor that the convict's cigarette had given out.
-It startled me a trifle, conjuring up, as it did, the hideous mental
-picture of the man. I had but just realized this association when I
-heard the clanging of the cathedral bells in that hurried, nervous
-manner which has alarm in its every note--for the tone of a bell always
-partakes of the state that its ringer is in. I heard the sound of
-approaching voices, loud and fierce, mixed with the alarming notes of
-the bells, and I stepped into the dark doorway of the nearest house.
-Next, there was the spatting of bare feet on the hard street, and a
-yelling crowd hurriedly rushed by my hiding-place, leaving a trailing
-smell of the same tobacco. I noticed the gleam of white handles in the
-moon-lighted street that I had seen in the yellow light of the mine,
-and then I knew that the convicts had revolted, and that they were armed
-with the pick-axes I had sold the mining company.
-
-"The bells continued to clang out their terror, and the distant shouting
-became blended into the continuous murmur that you hear from a distant
-crowd of excited people. Once in a while the roar of an _escopeta_ would
-be heard, and soon I saw a magenta glow in the sky, and I knew the town
-had been fired. Then followed the rapid snapping of pistols, and soon
-the bellow of the old brass _escopetas_ denoted that the guards had
-mustered, and that there was an organized resistance to the revolt. All
-this occurred quicker than I can tell it. I concluded to get back into
-the broad street I had just come out of, for if there is to be shooting,
-I want a clear space and as much light as I can get.
-
-"Just as I turned the corner, on a run, with both of my colts on a
-shooting level--for, by the way, it is always best to come upon your
-enemy suddenly and surprise him before he knows you are there--I
-saw several bodies in the street, and in the distance some dozen men
-retreating. I stopped near by the first body I came to; and to my horror
-I saw it was the still warm corpse of Senor Bustino. As I paused and
-stooped to more closely examine, I thought I could detect the lingering
-smell of that hellish convict's tobacco. Had the fiends attacked my
-host's home and dragged him insensate through the streets, or had he
-been slain whilst hurrying to the post of duty, at the sound of the
-alarm he knew well the meaning of? If the former, good God! what had
-been the fate of his wife and lovely daughters? The very thought
-momentarily unnerved me; and if the convicts had not yet wreaked their
-vengeance, could I reach them in time to be of effective service? Louder
-and louder roared the tumult, nearer and nearer came the flashing,
-glinting lights of torch and pistol, and as I swept round into the
-street in which Senor Bustino's house stood I could see, pouring down
-the hill toward it, a demoniac gang led by the bare-breasted convict
-whose baleful face had haunted me.
-
-"I found the senora and her daughters alone and, thank God! unharmed;
-but not a moment too soon, for even as I hurried them through into the
-darkness of the night the convicts, with curses on their tongues, lust
-in their heart, and red ruin in their hands, swarmed into the house.
-A momentary check came as their leader and another fell in the narrow
-door, beneath the fire of my two revolvers, and the flames which leaped
-up from that erewhile home lent their last protection in the shadow they
-cast, which enabled us, by availing ourselves of it, to escape. By the
-time we arrived at my hotel the convicts had flown to the mountains and
-we heard the story of the revolt. If I had not smelled that tobacco I
-should not have concealed myself in the doorway, my life would not have
-been worth a picayune, and you may imagine what would have been the fate
-of my hostess and her household. Senor Bustino, it appeared, had fallen
-a victim to the high chivalry which prompted him, hearing the bell and
-knowing its meaning, to hastily summon his servants, and with five or
-six armed _peons_ hasten out to overtake me and bid me return to his
-house until all danger was over. He had met the convicts, who had
-attacked him and struck him down, while most of his servants fled."
-
-Dunton paused, made and lighted another cigarette, and continued: "I
-could not get away for a month, for it was not safe for a small party
-to leave the town. I brought out some of that tobacco as a curiosity
-and learned to like it. I send for more every year where it is still
-prepared, in the prison-pens."
-
-"It is sometimes said, 'Follow your nose and it will take you out of
-danger,' and in my case the proverb proved true. Sometimes, when I sit
-here alone, half sleepily watching the curling smoke wreaths, I can
-almost see the place again, and the rings of smoke shape themselves into
-a horde of convict demons killing the poor old noble senor, whose elder
-daughter I have married. And now you know what I owe to the pungent
-aroma of a cigarette from Carcinto."
-
-
-
-
-ANTAEUS, By Frank M. Bicknell
-
-
-[Illustration: 0199]
-
-[Illustration: 9200]
-
-ATE one night, after having been a week out of town, I was returning
-home by a short cut across fields, when, on coming upon the street
-again, I found my path barred by a huge, hulking fellow, whose
-unexpected appearance startled me not a little. This was my introduction
-to Antaeus, whose better acquaintance I was to make later under rather
-peculiar circumstances. Antaeus was not a highway robber, but a highway
-roller, and when he first confronted me he was drawn up beside the
-road, enjoying an elephantine slumber after his hard day's labor--being,
-despite his formidable aspect, quiescent and inoffensive.
-
-I am not sure that it is usual to confer upon steam-rollers the
-dignity of a name, but my friend had one, and I read it on the neat,
-black-lettered brass plate affixed to the side of his boiler, near the
-smoke-stack. This, I take it, was the nearest practicable approach to
-hanging a locket about his neck that could be managed, and I have
-always felt grateful to his unknown sponsors for their little act of
-consideration.
-
-I cannot think of Antaeus otherwise than as a creature--not simply as a
-creation--as a reasoning and responsible being, rather than as a docile,
-slavish piece of mechanism; but to the unimaginative he seemed to be
-under the domination of a tolerably clean specimen of humanity whom I
-shall call the Driver.
-
-It was nearly a fortnight after our first meeting when I next saw
-Antaeus, for he was occupied in parts of the town remote from that in
-which I lived. I heard him occasionally, however, as he passed through
-the neighborhood after dark, _en route_ for another field of labor, or
-propelling his weary weight toward the shed under which he was lodged
-for his Sunday's rest. On such occasions, when I heard him lumbering by,
-I used to fancy he was taking an after-supper promenade and puffing a
-meditative cigar as he went along.
-
-At length, after he had come several times for pleasure, or his own
-convenience, he made us a professional call and buckled down to work
-at repairing a strip of street which had long stood in need! of his
-services. Antaeus was with us for several weeks and during his stay
-I became, in a measure, "chummy" with the Driver, from whom I learned
-various interesting facts about my muscular friend.
-
-Antaeus was a "fifteen-tonner," and his market price was $4,000; he was
-about sixteen feet long by seven wide at his widest part; he consumed
-from three to four hundred pounds of coal per diem; his strength was
-equal to that of more horses than I can recollect; he came down upon the
-dust at the rate of two tons weight per foot in width; and, when put to
-his best, he could settle into what was intended to be its final resting
-place about two thousand square yards of new road material per day of
-ten hours. As regarded wheels he was tricycular, that is, he rested
-upon one roller in front and two behind, the former being also used
-for steering purposes. He had two small coal-bunkers in the rear, a
-reasonably commodious space, with a spring seat, for the Driver, and a
-good-sized awning overhead. He worked under a low pressure of I forget
-just how many pounds of steam, and when traveling for pleasure could do
-rather more miles a day than could a crack trotter per hour when put to
-his best paces.
-
-These particulars I learned during the first week that Antaeus was
-busied in our neighborhood. It was thus that I took the preliminary
-steps toward making his acquaintance and came to be on pleasant speaking
-terms with him, as it were. For the subsequent intimacy between Antaeus
-and myself, neither he nor I were wholly responsible.
-
-A young lady had appeared at the house across the way. She was pretty,
-but I noticed her more particularly on account of the seemingly
-boundless capabilities of her wardrobe. She had a fresh gown for every
-new day, or at least, in the course of the first fortnight she had
-displayed a series of fourteen charming costumes, which I could no
-more hope to describe than could a North Greenland Eskimo to write
-an intelligent treatise on the flora of the torrid zone. I sat at my
-window, not too near, every morning when she came out of doors, and
-admired her through a spy-glass. This may appear like a piece of
-impertinence--perhaps it was--but I shall urge in my defence the fact
-that the street between us was nearly a hundred feet wide, and our
-two houses were set so far back that even by using my comparatively
-short-sighted little telescope, I could not bring her much nearer
-than we might actually have been without its aid in a more crowded
-neighborhood.
-
-One afternoon I stood talking with the Driver, while Antaeus was
-awaiting the deposit of more material by two tip-carts which were
-attached to his service, when she passed on the sidewalk, and I imagined
-she glanced at me with a certain degree of interest, as if she recalled
-having seen me before--or was it Antaeus who was the more worthy object
-of' her attention? Had I dared I should have smiled a little--merely
-a vague, sketchy, tentative smile--but, hardly thinking it prudent, I
-resisted the temptation and tried, as the photographers put it, to look
-natural; with the probable result of looking only cross. After having
-been her neighbor for more than two weeks it seemed as if I ought to
-have the right to speak, but proper consideration for _les convenances_
-forbade. It was vacation season, I was alone in the house, and, there
-being no womankind to make the necessary advances, I knew not how long
-it might be ere I could be formally introduced.
-
-[Illustration: 0204]
-
-While I was meditating upon this state of affairs--peculiarly
-unfortunate for me--she walked on and disappeared around a corner. A few
-minutes later the fire-alarm bell sounded the number of a box near by,
-and presently our beautiful fire-engine, all glittering with gold and
-silver plate, the just pride of the town, dashed rather noisily by. At
-sight of this brilliant appearance Antaeus gave vent to a species of
-snort and started up as if to follow, but naturally his lumbering pace
-was no match for the swiftness of the other machine, and from the first
-he was left hopelessly in the rear. I went off to see where the fire
-was--it proved to be of small account--and forgot Antaeus entirely until
-that night, when he recalled himself to my mind by figuring in an odd
-and whimsical dream.
-
-The scene I have just described was reproduced in part, the Driver,
-however, being eliminated from it. I thought I was standing beside
-Antaeus when the young lady appeared, only to disappear. As she went
-I sighed regretfully, whereupon something happened which ought to have
-surprised me, and would have done so anywhere else than in a dream. As
-if in sympathy with me, Antaeus heaved a sigh also--a most ponderous
-one--and thus addressed me:
-
-"I can understand your feelings," he said, in a low, hoarse voice. "You
-are longing for what seems the unattainable. Alas! so am I. We might
-mingle our tears," he went on, beginning to exude moisture around the
-gauges; "or better still," he added, as if struck by an idea, "perhaps
-we can be of assistance to each other."
-
-"In what way?" I asked, dubiously.
-
-"I might help you to know _her_ if you would help me to an acquaintance
-with the charming Electra."
-
-Intuitively I divined that Electra must be the steam fire-engine. Big,
-brawny Antaeus was in love! The ludicrousness of the notion did not
-strike me then as it did afterward. On the contrary, it seemed to be one
-of the most natural things imaginable.
-
-"Yes," he said, in response to my thoughts, "I am passionately enamored
-of her. I desire unutterably to gain her friendship, her esteem, her
-love--even though she may scorn me. I realize that her station in life
-is far above mine. I am only a plodder, while she is--Did you see her
-pass me like a flash of light this afternoon? Was she not entrancing,
-enthralling, irresistible! Ah, me! when she bestows her love it will
-be upon one of those fast, dashing railway fellows, I dare say. Yet
-I should like her to know that I am her friend, that I would risk any
-danger, that I would go through the torments of--of the repair
-shop, that I would give my last puff to serve her. I may be ugly
-and slow-going, and awkward and ungainly--Do you think I am so very
-ungainly, that is, for one in my walk of life?" he broke off, in rather
-piteous query.
-
-"Not at all," I hastened to assure him; "when we consider your great
-adaptability to your--your vocation, I am sure your form would be
-considered remarkably symmetrical."
-
-"Thank you!" he exclaimed, gratefully, "and whether or not such be the
-case, at least I am honest and straightforward and true-hearted, though
-I do blow my own whistle in saying it."
-
-"You certainly are."
-
-"Then I trust I am not too aspiring in wishing to be numbered among
-Electra's friends. I hope she would not be ashamed to acknowledge me if
-she met me in the street."
-
-"I should hope not, indeed," I murmured, when he paused for an
-encouraging word.
-
-"Shall we call it a bargain, then, that I aid you to an introduction to
-the young lady, your neighbor, and in return you so contrive as to bring
-about a meeting between Electra and me?"
-
-"A bargain it is, with all my heart," I assented, grasping and shaking
-the handle of his throttle-lever, "and the sooner the better for the
-carrying out of it."
-
-"Very good; call on me to-morrow, and I will see what can be done for
-you."
-
-"Shall--shall I come in business hours?" I asked, hesitatingly, thinking
-he might possibly prefer to attend to the matter between twelve and one.
-
-"Of course," he answered, "in business hours, certainly. I mean
-business, and I hope you do."
-
-I hastened to set his mind at rest on that point, and, after promising
-to come on the following afternoon, I shook his handle again, which had
-the effect of starting him off, and so our interview ended.
-
-When I awoke in the morning, my dream seemed so vividly real that I
-resolved to risk making myself ridiculous in my own eyes and to keep
-my appointment with Antaeus. Accordingly, after lunch, I strolled out
-toward the section of highway where he was at work. Soon I caught sight
-of a light-complexioned wagon standing on the opposite side of the
-street. Attached to it were two plump, blonde ponies, garbed in
-russet harness, and, on the front seat, reins in hand, talking with an
-acquaintance upon the sidewalk, sat my young lady.
-
-The natty vehicle had one other occupant, a sooty-faced pug, sitting up
-very straight on the cushion beside his mistress, with quite the air of
-a personage of distinction. In front of the ponies' noses was a horse of
-another breed, a four-legged structure of wood, upholding a sign-board,
-upon which was painted in glaring letters the word, "Danger," and in
-smaller ones, "No Passing; Steam Roller Running."
-
-Upon this scene presently entered an important actor--I might call him
-the heavy villian--Antaeus, grumbling, groaning, puffing and perspiring
-in his efforts to consolidate the various ingredients for a durable
-roadbed that had been laid down in his path. As he drew nearer he gave
-utterance to a significant "ahem!"--as I thought--by way of calling my
-attention to what was about to happen. Apparently he was going to keep
-his part of our agreement. A suspicion of what might be his idea began
-to dawn upon me. He purposed frightening the ponies, an incipient
-runaway would ensue, and I should be enabled to play the part of heroic
-rescuer. There were no very original features in the scheme, but it
-struck me as being quite practicable nevertheless; consequently I was
-somewhat surprised and grieved when nothing of the nature of what I had
-anticipated took place.
-
-But Antaeus was more subtle than I. He wished to avoid the appearance
-of collusion between us, which might have been given by the execution
-of the rudimentary strategem I have outlined. (Or perhaps the real
-explanation of it is that he knew the fat little beasts of ponies were
-of too phlegmatic a temperament to be disturbed by a bugaboo.) At any
-rate they only blinked sleepily at Antaeus and then went off into a
-peaceful doze, entirely unmoved by his nearness. With the black-vis-aged
-pug, however, it was quite otherwise. He regarded the monster as
-an interloper, a trespasser, and he began to bark at him angrily.
-Perceiving that his scoldings had no effect, he lost his temper
-entirely, and, jumping down from the carriage seat, ran forward toward
-the advancing engine and continued his barking with redoubled force
-and fury. His mistress' attention was now aroused, and, seeing how
-persistently he put himself in the track of the roller, she became
-uneasy. She called to him persuasively, authoritatively, beseechingly,
-but he paid her no heed. Apparently he had more faith in himself than
-had King Canute when he gave his memorable lesson to his courtiers by
-the seashore.
-
-From his position in the rear the Driver could not see the dog, and I
-doubt if he clearly understood the situation, for he made no attempt to
-avert the threatened catastrophe. The ridiculous animal stood his ground
-and kept up his remonstrances against the invader; the alarmed young
-lady threw an eloquently imploring look at me; and Antaeus came on,
-stolid, grim and impassive. Meanwhile, strangely enough--as it seems
-to me now--I remained inactive until my coadjutor, justly irritated,
-suddenly growled out what I took to mean:
-
-"Come! come; stupid, now is your time; why don't you bestir yourself?"
-
-Then I awakened to a full sense of my responsibilities and
-opportunities, and rushing to the fore, seized the rash and obstinate
-pug by the scruff of the neck and restored him, rescued from the
-Juggernaut, to the arms of his grateful mistress.
-
-Thus did Antaeus fulfill his share of our agreement.
-
-This little incident broke the ice. In less than a week the young lady
-and I knew each other almost intimately. It transpired that we were in
-fact old acquaintances. That is to say, she remembered me when I was at
-home during one college vacation, and she hoped I had not forgotten the
-small miss who used to come over and play tea-party with my sister. I
-replied that I should hope not, indeed, and mentally took myself to task
-for not being surer about it. The boy of seventeen is less likely to be
-impressed with the girl of eight than is the young man of twenty-eight
-with the maiden of nineteen. I was positive that at the end of another
-eleven years I should have had no trouble in recalling her to mind.
-
-I am not a tennis enthusiast, but I will admit that my white flannel
-suit had a chance to contrast itself with the velvety green of the lawn
-across the way rather frequently after that. It was a convenient and
-plausible excuse for being with her a good deal.
-
-[Illustration: 0212]
-
-The pleasure of her society was worth some physical discomfort, and
-I couldn't complain if I did feel for a week or more as if I had been
-given a sound drubbing. One day, after we had finished a series
-of games--in which mine was second-best record--who should appear,
-laboriously rumbling by, but my well-nigh forgotten friend Antaeus.
-
-"What an uncouth piece of mechanism that is!" she exclaimed, turning
-to look at him--"a sort of caricature of a locomotive, one might say. A
-veritable snail for traveling, too, isn't it?"
-
-"Yes; his--I mean it's--best speed does not exceed five miles an hour, I
-am told. A man might walk as fast as that with a little exertion."
-
-"I wonder if it is a pleasant mode of riding--in a steam-roller?" she
-said, half musing, her gaze still resting on Antaeus. "At least one
-would have plenty of leisure for viewing the scenery along the way. I
-should rather like to try a short ride on it."
-
-"Should you, really," I asked, doubting whether or not she was in
-earnest.
-
-"Yes, indeed, I should." If she had been half in jest before she was
-serious now. "It would be a new experience."
-
-"Hardly an agreeable one for a lady, though," I commented.
-
-"Oh, that would be a secondary consideration," she returned with a
-shrug. "I should value the experience as an experience, and I should be
-glad to have it to put on my list."
-
-I looked inquisitive and she proceeded to explain.
-
-"I keep a diary--not a regulation school girl's diary, in which one
-feels bound to write something every single day of the year, whether
-there is anything worth recording or not--but a collection of memoranda
-in which I take a good deal of satisfaction. Mine is a classified diary
-and is contained in about a dozen different books which began as
-mere covers with nothing between. By putting in leaves when there was
-occasion the volumes grew until now several of them have attained to a
-very respectable thickness."
-
-"Might I ask, without indiscretion, for a hint as to the nature of their
-contents, or would that be----"
-
-"Certainly; there is no secret about them. In fact I have been known to
-show their pages to certain of my friends, and, to be quite honest, I
-am rather proud of them. As far as I can recollect now, they are labeled
-with these titles: 'Books I have read, Places I have visited, Notable
-personages I have seen, Odd or eccentric characters I have met, Strange
-sights I have seen, Curious dishes of which I have eaten, Rides I have
-taken----"
-
-"Do you mean," I interposed, "that every time you take a ride you enter
-an account of it in your collection?"
-
-"I mean that whenever I ride in or on any unusual sort of conveyance
-I make a note of it. That particular book dates far back into my
-childhood. The idea of starting it was suggested to me by a ride I took
-on a tame ostrich in South Africa."
-
-My increased respect for a young lady who had ridden upon an ostrich
-near, if not actually in his native desert, will be understood by the
-untraveled.
-
-"You have seen something of the world," I remarked.
-
-"Yes," she admitted; "I have been about with my father a great deal. An
-uncle of mine, who abhors what he calls globe-trotting, tells people,
-with a look of mock commiseration on his face, that I have been
-everywhere except at the North Pole and in a Trappist monastery. A
-slight exaggeration that, and yet not so very far from the truth either.
-I have visited most of the inhabited countries of the globe, I
-think, and I have had a chance to try riding in a good many peculiar
-conveyances. I have ridden on an elephant in India, on a dromedary in
-Egypt, in a sort of horse-litter in Persia, in a man-carriage in Japan,
-in a sledge on bare ground at Funchal, on a log-raft down the Rhine, on
-an Indian's back in Mexico, in the cab of a locomotive on the Southern
-Pacific, in a fast newspaper train out of New York, on an open car moved
-by gravity--and moved very fast, too--on that wonderful railroad
-in Peru, on a small landslide among the White Mountains, in a
-dwelling-house being moved through the streets of this town, in---- but
-I will spare you further enumeration.''
-
-"I hope, however, that you will let me read the catalogue for myself
-some time. I no longer wonder that so successful a collector should
-be eager for an additional specimen. I happen to have some little
-acquaintance with the man who runs our steam-roller; perhaps I could
-arrange to have your wish for a ride gratified."
-
-"Oh, if you _only_ could!" she exclaimed, looking so hopefully expectant
-that I secretly vowed the thing should come to pass or I would know the
-most unanswerable of reasons why.
-
-I had learned that Antaeus was neither a native nor a naturalized
-citizen of our town, but that he owed allegiance to a firm of
-contractors in a distant city, whose delegate and sole representative
-here was the Driver; consequently if I could prevail upon him to lend
-Antaeus I need apprehend no interference from the town authorities.
-
-I began upon the Driver the next forenoon. My persuasiveness took a
-conventional form, for, not being gifted with an oily tongue, I was
-forced to trust for success in a great measure upon my chance of
-stupefying the Driver's conscience with the fumes of several superfine
-cigars. I spent about two hours in company with Antaeus, taking many
-turns up and down the street with him for the special purpose of
-observing his manners and customs. With the advice and consent of his
-guardian I learned to start, to stop, to reverse, and to steer to my own
-satisfaction. I had intended to broach the important question that day,
-but, fearing I might not yet have sufficiently blunted the Driver's
-moral sensibilities, my courage failed at the critical moment and I
-permitted myself the expensive luxury of procrastination.
-
-The next day I found the task no easier, and so put it off again, but on
-the day after I awakened to the fact that delays are dangerous and made
-the fateful plunge. I frankly told the Driver the whole story, under
-the belief that he would be less likely to refuse the petition of a lady
-than one made in my own name.
-
-If he had suspected all the while, from my persistent attentions, that I
-had an axe to grind he did not mortify me by showing it. He accepted
-my fifth cigar as he had my first, with an air of supposing it to be
-offered from motives of the most disinterested friendliness.
-
-I did not meet with success in the outset. The Driver had grave doubts
-as to the propriety of "loaning" a steam-roller. Had he been a Frenchman
-he might reasonably have urged that, like a tooth-brush, _ca ne se prete
-pas_. However, I overcame his scruples in the end, and, probably in
-the belief that "if it were done 'twere well it were done quickly," he
-agreed to deliver Antaeus into my charge that evening.
-
-Accordingly, not long after sunset, I went across the street and called
-for the young lady. I realized fully that her father and mother would
-not have approved of our escapade, but they were absent from home and
-I tried to believe it was not my duty to stand toward her _in loco
-parentium_. She was a bit wilful too, and I feared my remonstrances
-would do no good unless I carried them to the extreme of refusing my
-assistance, which, after my ready offer of it, would have been uncivil
-and unkind.
-
-At an unfrequented spot, on a broad highway, near the outskirts of the
-town, Antaeus and the Driver--the former under head of steam, and both
-smoking--were awaiting us. We met them there by appointment at nine
-o'clock. After many instructions and cautions touching the fire, the
-water, the steam, the use of the levers, the necessity of keeping a
-sharp lookout ahead, etc., the Driver left me in sole command, as proud
-as a boy with his first bicycle.
-
-"You find you have got into rather close quarters here, don't you?" said
-I, as I perched myself upon the high seat, from which the machine was
-most conveniently directed.
-
-"The passenger accommodations might be more spacious, but all things
-considered I hardly think I shall complain," laughingly returned my
-companion, who had seated herself on one of the coal-boxes behind me. "I
-took the precaution not to wear my best frock, so I can stow myself away
-in small compass without fear of damage."
-
-Having in mind the trouble I had taken, her delight in the novelty of
-her situation was highly gratifying to me. She eagerly asked about the
-functions of the various levers, try-cocks, and gauges, and insisted
-upon being allowed to experiment with them, as well as with the steering
-gear, herself. The knowledge, she said, might be useful to her in the
-future. Antaeus proved to be entirely docile and allowed himself to
-be guided as easily as a well-broken flesh and blood horse. The big
-fly-wheel revolved, the fussy little piston pumped up and down with
-an ado that seemed absurd considering the slow progress resulting, the
-steam fretted and hissed, the three massive rollers bore with all
-their might upon the hard surface of the macadam, and thus crunching,
-clanking, thumping and rattling, we sluggishly made our way into the
-obscurity of the night.
-
-By and by, in the course of our journey, we came to a gentle rise, the
-ascent of which made Antaeus puff rather laboriously. For a moment my
-passenger looked slightly uneasy. "Why does it do that?" she asked.
-
-"The exertion of going up hill makes him breathe a little hard,
-naturally," I answered, reassuring her. "He is feeling in fine
-condition, though," I added, inspecting the steam-gauge by the light of
-my lantern; "the effect of a plentiful supply of oats, doubtless."
-
-"You speak of _it_ as _he_," she said, questioningly.
-
-"Certainly; why not?" I retorted. "He seems to me unequivocally
-masculine."
-
-"True," she assented; "still in personifying inanimate objects, are they
-not more frequently made members of the other sex?"
-
-"Undoubtedly they are, but it strikes me as a ridiculous
-custom--particularly in the case of great machines. No engine, however
-big, black or ungainly, but it must be spoken of by the feminine
-pronoun. It is hardly a compliment to your sex, is it? Think of the
-incongruity of putting, for instance, a huge steamboat, named for the
-president of the company, into the feminine gender!"
-
-She laughed at my fancy, but her merriment did not wound my
-sensibilities. "So it's--I beg pardon, _his_--name is Antaeus, is it?"
-
-"Yes, in honor of that old giant--do you recollect?--whom Hercules
-overcame."
-
-"By lifting him quite off the ground, because as often as he came in
-contact with Mother Earth his strength was renewed? Yes, I recall the
-story, and I can see a certain propriety in the name. I rather think
-this fellow, if he were to be lifted off the ground, could scarcely use
-his great strength to advantage. Imagine him turned upon his back like a
-huge beetle, kicking about frantically into the air to no purpose!"
-
-"Undoubtedly he gets his grip from his contact with the earth," said I.
-"As a flying-machine he would hardly be a success."
-
-"Doesn't it strike you that he is almost unnecessarily deliberate?"
-she queried, presently, with a slight show of impatience; evidently the
-novelty of the adventure was beginning to wear off.
-
-"More so than usual for the reason that we are ascending an incline;
-but you must remember that Antaeus was not built for speed," returned I,
-defending my friend.
-
-"Evidently not. He belongs to the plodders--the slow and sure sort. He
-would be entered for a race in the tortoise class probably. Fancy an
-absconding cashier trying to escape from justice in a steam-roller! It
-would be funny, wouldn't it?"
-
-I agreed with her that it would be very funny. "Or imagine an eloping
-couple fleeing before an irate father on such a conveyance!" I
-suggested, with a consciousness of blushing in the dark for the audacity
-of the conceit.
-
-"Now, that is good!" she exclaimed, seizing on my idea with an eagerness
-that showed how far her thoughts were from taking the direction in
-which mine had dared to stray. "What a situation for a modern realistic,
-sensational drama!"
-
-"It might be worked up into something rather impressive, I should think.
-In these days of bringing steamboats, pile-drivers, fire-engines,
-real water, and railway trains in upon the stage I don't know why a
-steam-roller might not be given a chance."
-
-"Why not?" she cried, waxing enthusiastic. "Picture the scene. Enter
-lovers on 'steam-roller, followed by incensed father in--in----"
-
-"In an electric-car," I supplied experimentally.
-
-"Pshaw! don't be foolish!" she exclaimed thanklessly. "Followed
-by father in a light gig, drawn by a spirited horse. Overtakes
-lovers--demands his daughter--young man respectfully declines to give
-her up. Old gentleman prepares to come and take her. Is about to descend
-from gig when steamroller whistles, spirited horse begins to prance, he
-is obliged to keep tight hold of reins----"
-
-"Very good!" I put in approvingly. "Stern parent threatens direst
-vengeance, horse cavorts alarmingly, parent rages unavailingly,
-resolute lover pushes throttle wide open with one hand and retains firm
-grip upon the helm with the other."
-
-"While the devoted loveress, with her own dainty hands, shovels in coal
-and encourages him to stand firm----"
-
-"By the way, that reminds me of something," I interrupted and, getting
-off my elevated seat, I bent down and opened the furnace-door; "I rather
-think I should have given Antaeus his supper before now."
-
-In truth, I had neglected the fire altogether too long. I hastily threw
-in more coal, but it was already too late to avert the consequences of
-my forgetfulness. The pressure of steam was diminishing and continued
-to diminish in spite of all my efforts to prevent it. Back fell the
-indicator upon the dial, and more and more slowly worked the machinery
-as the power behind it became less and less.
-
-"We shall not reach the top of the hill at the present rate," remarked
-my companion. "The vital spark appears to be in danger of extinction, so
-to speak."
-
-"In very great danger," I sorrowfully assented as, with one last feeble
-effort, Antaeus wearily gave up the struggle.
-
-"Nor is that the worst of it," I added, filled with a sudden
-apprehension.
-
-"What do you mean?" she asked, disquieted by my manner, though not yet
-divining the inevitable outcome of the existing state of affairs.
-
-"You had better descend to _terra firma_ unless you want to go back down
-hill faster than you came up," I replied significantly.
-
-"Oh!" she exclaimed, comprehending the danger.
-
-"Yes; the attraction of gravitation is going to take us back a deal
-faster than Antaeus ever traveled before. Shall I help you out?"
-
-"Can't you put on the brakes?"
-
-"There are none; the builders of this machine did not foresee such a
-contingency as this. It was not to be supposed that Antaeus ever would
-fall into the unskillful hands of a bungling, blundering amateur," said
-I, calling up hard names for myself from out of the depths of my
-humiliation.
-
-"Don't reproach yourself," she begged; "it is I who am to be blamed."
-
-"Shall I not help you out before it is too late?" I interposed, as
-Antaeus began to gather way.
-
-"What are you going to do," she demanded.
-
-"Oh, I shall stick to the ship," I answered grimly.
-
-"But you will get hurt if you do," she objected.
-
-"Antaeus will get hurt if I don't. Come!"
-
-"No; I shall stay on board, too," she declared heroically. "Now don't
-try and persuade me to desert, for I shall not do it. Can't I be of some
-use?"
-
-Seeing that she was firm in her resolve to stand by me, I gratefully
-accepted her offer of assistance, which indeed, was of considerable
-value. It was important that I should keep a firm hold upon the steering
-wheel, to prevent the craft from yawing, and, unless I were to be
-continually screwing my head about in a very painful position, I could
-not very well see the road over which we were traveling. From a position
-between the coal-boxes behind me--now the front of the conveyance--she
-could keep a look-out and pass the word to me when it became necessary
-to correct the deviations in our course. Without her help, it is more
-than probable that I should have run Antaeus ignominiottsly, perhaps
-disastrously, into a ditch before reaching the foot of the incline. Even
-as it was, I had my hands full.
-
-During the ride, which certainly was one of the most disquieting,
-mentally and physically, that I ever have taken, we said very little to
-each other. I gripped the wheel, and she grasped the iron sides of the
-coal-bunkers, between which she stood, opening her lips only to call,
-"right! left!" or "steady!" as I had hastily instructed her to do for my
-guidance in steering. So we rumbled and rattled and jolted on down the
-hill, at continually increasing speed, until at length we reached the
-base, and I drew a deep breath of relief at knowing that the worst was
-over.
-
-Arrived upon a level, our momentum gradually expended itself. From an
-estimated ten-mile rate--which had seemed terrific--we slowed to a five,
-to a three, to a one, to a snail's pace, and then something occurred
-which, although not threatening any danger to us personally, filled our
-minds with the liveliest anxiety for the safety of others. Antaeus came
-to a stand-still just across the railway track.
-
-"Well?" said my passenger, inquiringly.
-
-"Well," I returned, blankly, as I pulled my watch from my pocket, "this
-is--interesting, to say the least."
-
-"Are there--how about trains?" she queried anxiously.
-
-During the jolting of our forced--and forcible--descent our lantern
-had gone out; but there was an electric lamp near, and by its light I
-managed to read the hour upon my watch-dial.
-
-"There is a train leaving the city at ten, due here at ten-seventeen; it
-now lacks five minutes of that. I must go to the station and report that
-the way is blocked. I am sorry to leave you--or would you prefer going
-while I wait here?"
-
-"I think it will be better for you to go."
-
-"Very well, then; I'll not be long."
-
-[Illustration: 0220]
-
-This promise of mine was ill-advised. I hurried up the track to the
-station, only to find it locked and deserted. It was not the principal
-station of the town, being one of the half-dozen smaller ones strung
-at short intervals along the line. In all probability it would not be
-opened until a few minutes before train-time. As I knew the outcoming
-train would stop at that station, and thus give me a chance to warn the
-engineer of the obstruction ahead, I did not feel particularly alarmed
-at not finding the agent at once. Still I was conscious of some nervous
-uneasiness while awaiting his arrival.
-
-At last he came leisurely across the street, jingling his keys as he
-walked. As soon as he stepped foot upon the platform I went to 'him
-and began to tell my story. I had not proceeded far with it ere he
-interrupted me with a startled ejaculation.
-
-"Great Scott! The White Mountain express!"
-
-"What? What do you mean?" I gasped,
-
-"New train--put on yesterday--passes here on the way in at ten-ten,
-and it's more than that now!" he exclaimed in staccato, as he hastily
-unlocked the station door, and, putting in his hand, seized a red
-lantern that had been sitting ready lighted on the floor within.
-
-He did not waste any more time with me, but rushed along to the end of
-the platform, and then began to run with all his might down the track.
-I succeeded in following him at not too great a distance, although I was
-turning sick and giddy with all sorts of horrible apprehensions. Visions
-of a frightful wreck photographed themselves on my brain, the shrieks of
-the dying sounded prophetically in my ears, and in the midst of it all
-I was selfishly deploring the fact that I should be called on to pay the
-damages--at least to Antaeus--and wondering if I could contrive to get a
-hardware discount off the market price of steam-rollers.
-
-The crossing was still hidden from us around a curve when a shrill
-whistling broke upon my startled ears.
-
-"T-o-o-t!--t-o-o-t! Toot! toot!"
-
-The agent uttered an explosive invocation to the Deity, and added in
-tones of despair:
-
-"We're too late; she's onto us!"
-
-Still we staggered mechanically forward, until suddenly, with a cry of
-warning, the agent sprang aside, and the express went thundering by.
-
-"See here, young man," my companion exclaimed angrily, "if this is a
-put-up job----"
-
-"But it is not!" I interposed with indignant protest. "I don't
-understand it any better than you do. Certainly I left Ant--the roller
-sprawled across both tracks."
-
-"Well, I guess it ain't there now," dryly remarked the agent, watching
-the rear lights of the fast-receding train, until they were swallowed up
-in the glare of the "local's" head-light. "I must run back," he added,
-recalled to a sense of his duties. "You take this lantern and go and
-see if the outward track is clear. Stand between the rails and swing
-the lantern if it ain't. I'll tell the engineer to go slow and be on the
-lookout."
-
-In another minute I was at the crossing. I looked up and down the street
-for Antaeus, but neither he nor the young lady were to be seen. If
-that Hercules of a locomotive actually had lifted him into the air and
-carried him off his absence could not have been more conspicuous. But
-naturally such a feat>could not have been accomplished, nor had it been
-attempted.
-
-The real explanation of the mysterious disappearance was this. During
-my absence the fire under the boiler had been getting up, until finally
-enough steam had made to start the machinery and so the roller had been
-enabled to roll itself away out of danger.
-
-I was about to start toward town, under the supposition that Antaeus had
-taken that direction, when I chanced to recollect that with the levers
-as I had left them he naturally must go just the opposite way--that is,
-retrace the course over which he had lately come. Accordingly I set out
-on the run toward the hill. Near the foot of it I found him, diagonaled
-off the road-side with his nose against a tree, loudly hissing in
-impotent rage at the unwelcome bar to his progress.
-
-I jumped into the engineer's place, reversed the machinery, and without
-very much trouble succeeded in getting him back into the road and
-started on the homeward way. I was putting to myself an uneasy question
-as to the whereabouts of my passenger, when, to my relief, I heard her
-voice close at hand.
-
-"Is it all right?" she inquired anxiously; "I feared it was going to
-blow up or something, it made such a horribly distressing noise."
-
-"That very noise was a guarantee that he was _not_ going to blow up,"
-I replied, bringing Antaeus to a stop. "He was merely getting rid of
-superfluous steam through the safety-.valve. I am very glad to find you
-again. Will you ride? I think we shall get on smoothly this time."
-
-Rather hesitatingly she allowed me to help her in. Then, after taking
-the precaution to add some fuel to the fire, and to inspect the steam
-and water indicators by the light of my borrowed red lantern, I opened
-the throttle and started on again.
-
-"Did the train frighten you?" I bethought myself to ask, presently.
-
-"Oh, don't speak of it," she returned with a shudder; "I heard it coming
-from two or three miles away, and when it got nearer and nearer and you
-did not return I was almost frantic. But I couldn't do anything. I
-don't think it was more than a quarter of a mile distant, with the light
-gleaming along the rails and making it seem even nearer, when the roller
-began to move--but, oh, how slowly! I thought I should--well, if my hair
-hasn't turned gray from that scare it never will do so until the natural
-time for it comes, I am sure."
-
-"Well, the old fellow got off in time, evidently."
-
-"Yes; but with hardly a second to spare. He hadn't cleared the rails
-of the other track when the train passed. It was a frightfully narrow
-margin."
-
-"You were not on board all this while, I hope."
-
-"Oh, no; that would have been too foolhardy. But when I saw it was
-making off I didn't want it--I mean _him_--to go careering and cavorting
-about the country alone, so I climbed up and tried to take command. You
-showed me how to use the reversing-lever, and it all seemed easy when
-you were here, but when I was alone I didn't dare touch it for fear
-something disastrous would happen. All I ventured to do was to take the
-wheel and keep, him in the road--or rather try to do so, for I didn't
-succeed very well. My strength was not equal to it. He swerved a little
-and then got to going more and more on the bias, until at last, despite
-all I could do to the contrary, he ran off against a tree and was
-obliged to stop. Soon afterward that hissing noise began, and, fearing
-an explosion, I ran and got behind the wall on the other side of the
-street, and then--then you came. I don't think I ever was more rejoiced
-to see anybody in all my life."
-
-I resisted a temptation to make a speech, which, however much in earnest
-I was, might have sounded silly, and contented myself with remarking
-that I was glad to have arrived in such good time, and I turned my
-attention to the taking of her--and Antaeus--safe home.
-
-I could not get to sleep after going to bed that night. The evening's
-experience of itself was hardly a soporific, but there was yet another
-matter to occupy my thoughts and prevent my sleeping. Should I venture
-at the next favorable opportunity to put a certain question to a certain
-person? If I did so what answer should I receive? I hoped and I feared
-and I doubted concerning the sentiments of the said certain person
-toward my unworthy self. I revolved the thing in my mind until
-there seemed to be little else there but revolution. Progress in any
-direction, certainly there was none. My body was hardly less restless
-than my mind.
-
-At three o'clock it flashed across me like a revelation, that I was
-hungry. I had eaten a light supper hours ago, and now my stomach was
-eloquent with emptiness; while the blood which should be doing good
-service there was pulsing madly about in my brain to no purpose. I went
-down stairs and inspected the contents of the ice-chest. Roast pork and
-brown bread make rather a hearty late supper, but breakfast time was so
-near I thought I would risk them--and a good deal of them.
-
-Returning to my room, I set a lamp upon a stand at the head of the
-bed and, taking the first book that came to hand--it chanced to be an
-Italian grammar--I began to read. I had gone as far in the introduction
-as "CC like t-ch in hatchet," when I grew drowsy. I laid down the book,
-my eyelids drooped, and there is good circumstantial evidence that a
-moment later I fell asleep, lying on my back with the upper half of my
-body bent into the form of a bow.
-
-My slumbers were visited by a dream--a nightmare, composed, I estimate,
-of cold roast pork and brown bread, uncomfortable bodily position, the
-memory of certain occurrences in my past history, and an event to be
-described later. In this dream Antaeus figured largely. He seemed to
-come rolling across the bed, and me, until he had stopped upon my chest
-and stomach.
-
-[Illustration: 0228]
-
-"What are you doing?" I asked in alarm. "Do you know you are crushing
-me? Get away!"
-
-"I dare say I am. I _weigh_ fifteen tons," Antaeus replied, heavily
-jocose. "I say," he continued with a burst of anger, "you are an
-honorable, high-minded sort of person, you are. What do you mean by
-treating me so? Have you forgotten our compact? I have given you every
-chance man could ask for with _her_; what have you done for me in
-return? Nothing. Even worse than nothing. To faithlessness you have
-added treachery. Not content with deceiving me, you have sought to
-destroy me. I suppose you hoped to see my _debris_ strewn along the iron
-way."
-
-I was conscience-stricken by his accusations; but I could refute a part
-of them. "Oh, no! oh, no!" I protested, "it was an accident, I assure
-you. So far from desiring such a thing, I declare that I cannot even
-imagine your being reduced to _debris_. I----"
-
-"Bah!" roared Antaeus, and in his rage he began to belch forth
-smoke--smoke so thick and black that I thought I should be stifled by
-it. In another moment I awoke gasping.
-
-One feature of my dream was a reality--the smoke. The room was filled
-with it, and there were flames beside. As nearly as I can guess, the
-situation on which I opened my eyes had been thus brought about. While
-I slept the wind had risen and, pushing inward the shade at the open
-window, had pressed it against the small, unstable stand until the
-latter had been tipped over, bringing the lighted lamp to the floor.
-The muslin curtains had caught fire; from them the straw matting,
-kerosene-soaked, had flamed up, so that now a pretty lively blaze was
-in progress.
-
-I sprang off the bed, made a snatch at some of my clothes, and got out
-of the room as soon as possible. After I had helped save everything
-portable, that could be saved without risk to life, I went and stood
-before the house in the cool air of the early dawn and watched the
-struggle between flames and flood. In the midst of my perturbation I
-noticed something that struck me as being worthy of remark. I had left
-Antaeus at the edge of the roadway before our gate; now the fire-engine,
-Electra, had been drawn up beside him. He was maintaining strict
-silence, but I hoped he was being well entertained, for Electra kept
-up an incessant buzzing--woman like, quite willing to do all of the
-talking. At any rate my share of our compact was now fulfilled; Antaeus
-and I were quits.
-
-In the later morning I saw the young lady. My misfortunes called forth
-from her expressions of sincerest pity; indeed, she bitterly reproached
-herself for having been the direct cause of them. When I described my
-narrow escape from death by suffocation, she grew so pale that I thought
-she must feel considerable interest in me, although I immediately
-reflected that it could not be very pleasant to have one's next-door
-neighbor roasted alive.
-
-By-and-by I told her of my two dreams, and of the way in which I finally
-kept faith with Antaeus.
-
-"It is a shame that you had to burn up your house to do it," she
-commented, "when a brush-heap might have answered the purpose quite as
-well."
-
-I thought--or I hoped--that the time had come for making a decisive move
-with some chance of its being effective. I furtively possessed myself of
-her hand.
-
-"I should not regret the house so much," said I, "if I might hope
-you would deign to extend to me the favor with which Electra has made
-Antaeus happy."
-
-This was bunglingly put, but she understood me well enough, although she
-murmured in reply:
-
-"You have it already; we are--acquainted. Surely you don't
-want--anything--more."
-
-But she did not withdraw her hand.
-
-I have just heard that the town fathers contemplate purchasing Antaeus
-and giving him a permanent residence "within our borders." If
-this report be true, I shall use all my influence--from motives of
-gratitude--to have him lodged beside the engine-house, so that he may be
-near his bewitching Electra.
-
-[Illustration: 0238]
-
-
-
-
-WHICH MISS CHARTERIS? By C. G. Rogers
-
-
-[Illustration: 0239]
-
-[Illustration: 9239]
-
-AVING completed his breakfast, Mr. Percy Darley seated himself in a n
-easy-chair, facing the cheerful grate-fire of ruddy anthracite, placed
-his toes upon the fender, and relapsed into a thoughtful contemplation
-of Leonard's letter.
-
-"You had best come, my dear boy," said the letter. "It is a sleepy
-little town--one of those idyllic Acadian places of which you used to
-rave when you were tired of the city and fretful at her ways. We can
-smoke our pipes and chat over the old days, before a fire in my big,
-old-fashioned grate. There is a noble stretch of clear ice here now. Our
-little river is frozen over, solid and safe, and the darkest prospects
-do not foreshadow another fall of snow for a fortnight. The sleighing is
-superb; and, as Madeline Bridges says, 'the nights are splendid.' Pack
-up your traps and come."
-
-The invitation was an alluring one, thought Darley. His head ached, and
-his heart was sick of the everlasting round of parties and calls and
-suppers. What a vision of beatific rest that idea of a chat over old
-times! Ah, dear old times of childhood and youth, when our tears are as
-ephemeral as our spendthrift dimes!
-
-There seemed to be only one rational preclusion--to wit, Miss Charteris.
-Not that he thought Miss Charteris would personally object to his
-absence, but, rather, that _he_ had an objection to leaving Miss
-Charteris. Miss Charteris was an heiress, and a handsome woman; to
-be brief, Miss Charteris being rich, and our friend Darley having the
-millstone of debt about his neck, he had determined, if possible, to wed
-her. If he went away, however, at this period of his acquaintance,
-when the heiress and he were becoming fast friends, some one else would
-doubtless step into the easy shoes of attention.
-
-So Darley went down into the city and telegraphed his friend Leonard
-that he would be in Dutton on the evening train. He thought he should
-like to see Miss Charteris, however, before going. He walked back slowly
-along a particularly favorite drive of hers, and presently met this
-young lady with her stylish little turn-out, looking very radiant and
-happy on this bright winter morning.
-
-There was some one with her--a fact Darley noticed with no great feeling
-of pleasure. It was not a strange thing; but, following the course of
-things as they had been for the past few weeks, it should have been
-Darley himself. This morning it was a sallow, dark young man whom Darley
-did not remember having seen before.
-
-Darley explained that he was about to leave town for a few weeks, as
-soon as Miss Charteris had drawn up alongside the pavement to wish
-him goodmorning. Then she introduced him to her companion. "A very old
-friend--Mr. Severance--just arrived from Australia."
-
-"Dear old Dutton!" said Miss Charteris, looking reminiscent. "You must
-not break any trusting hearts down there, Mr. Darley; for the Dutton
-maids are not only lovely, but proverbially trusting."
-
-"You know Dutton, then?" Darley answered, surprised.
-
-"Oh, yes! I have a very dear aunt in Dutton--oh, but you will see! I
-spent some of my happiest days there. So did you, I think, Lawrence."
-
-"Yes," said Mr. Severance reflectively, "days almost as happy as the
-present day. Don't you think, Mr. Darley, that a man's best years
-cluster round the age of ten?"
-
-Darley could not help agreeing to this. All men, provided their youth
-has been happy, think so. Darley said good-by, and walked on.
-
-Who was this fellow Severance? _She_ called him Lawrence--_Lawrence_, by
-Jove! There was something in it--rather old schoolmates, too, they
-had been, and what might they not be now? It was more pique than
-disappointment which caused Darley to wish momentarily that he was not
-scheduled for Dutton. However, he must stand the hazard of the die.
-
-His things were soon packed; he also supplied himself with a box of the
-cigars Leonard and he used to love in "the days that are no more," and a
-copy of "Outing." And ten hours later the train, with a jovial roar, ran
-into the little town, where the lights gleamed cozily against the snowy
-background, and the sleigh-bells seemed to bid him a merry, musical
-welcome.
-
-A short, erect, trimly built man with a finely chiseled face and a brown
-skin that seemed to breathe of pine woods and great wide, sunlit rivers
-grasped Darley's hand as he stepped to the platform.
-
-"Well, old man!" exclaimed the brown man, cheerily. "Awfully glad you've
-come! Come this way! Here we are, Joseph! Step in!"
-
-"By Jove! it _is_ wintry here, isn't it?" said Darley, as he slid under
-the buffalo robes. "What a peerless night!"
-
-After supper the two men made themselves thoroughly comfortable in great
-leather chairs before Leonard's promised fire, and smoked and chatted.
-
-"You look just the same, old boy," said Leonard, scanning Darley
-carefully. "But the hair is a little thin in front there, and I think
-I see the growing spot of baldness, as Ike Marvel has it. Did you ever
-read that great book of his, 'A Bachelor's Reveries?' No? Well,
-you should. I find it sweetest company. Yes, you are the same old
-sobersides--a great deal deeper than you look, as the little boy said
-when he fell into the well. And not married yet, eh?"
-
-"Who, the little boy?"
-
-"No; you, you rogue! I should have thought you would have gone off long
-ago."
-
-"Why?"
-
-"A hard question to answer. Are we not always in a condition of mild
-wonder that our friends have not gone over to the married ranks, when
-we ourselves have not? However, from floating gossip--that tongue's
-flotsam--I have heard that you meditate going over."
-
-"Eh?" said Darley, pricking up his ears.
-
-"Why," answered Leonard, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, "Beau
-Brummel cannot pay court to a beauty without the world knowing it! I,
-even I, have heard of Miss Bella Charteris. She is not the sort of girl,
-if I may make so bold, that I would have imagined you pinning yourself
-to. I should have thought some quiet, sober, angelic little woman
-like----"
-
-"Like who?"
-
-"Well, I was going to say like her sister," said Leonard softly, bending
-his head over his pipe as he slowly refilled it. "But you do not know
-her sister, I think."
-
-"Why, I did not even know Miss Charteris had a sister!" exclaimed
-Dar-ley in amazement.
-
-"No? Why, Miss Florence Charteris lives here--in Dutton!"
-
-"Miss Charteris mentioned an aunt, and hinted at some one else whom she
-said I would see, now that I think of it."
-
-"Irony, I suppose," said Leonard quietly, smiling a queer little smile.
-"Yes, Miss Charteris the second lives in Dutton: a quaint, gray little
-life, good, patient, and God-like. She is the sweet angel of Dutton. But
-tell me, Percy, are you in love with your Miss Charteris?"
-
-"I am afraid she is not my Miss Charteris," said Darley, smiling. "And
-to be candid with you, Jack, I am not in love with her--for which,
-perhaps, I should be thankful. However, if Miss Charteris _does_ accept
-me, which I think is highly improbable, I shall marry her for money."
-
-Leonard shook his head. "I thought that was the way the wind lay," he
-said sagaciously. "Don't do it," he added tersely, after a pause. "Take
-an old fool's advice--don't do it. I think you would only live to regret
-having sold yourself into bondage. That is what it would amount to in
-your case. You are not built upon rough enough lines, I know, not to
-care at having your poverty sneered at and constantly thrown in your
-face. It is a puzzle to me how any man with any sense of independence
-and honor can sell himself, as some men do; and it is beyond my
-understanding how _you_, with your fine feelings and high ideal of
-manhood, ever thought of such a thing."
-
-This was certainly rubbing it in, Dar-ley thought. But, then, Leonard
-was such an exceptionally odd fellow, with his one-man-in-a-million code
-of chivalry and his ethical eccentricities. Still, Darley shrunk at the
-castigation, because he knew that the feelings that prompted it were
-sincere.
-
-"But I am terribly in debt, Jack," he said, almost deprecatingly. "What
-is there left for me to do?"
-
-"What is there left? The opportunity to fight it out!" retorted Leonard.
-"Retrench. In a year, or two at most, unless you are _hopelessly_
-insolvent, if you live without the profitless pleasures that have
-brought you to this pass, you can come out triumphantly independent."
-
-Darley shook his head. "I am afraid I could not stand the strain, Jack,"
-he answered, almost sadly. "A fellow of your caliber might. How is it,
-by the way, that you yourself are still in single harness?"
-
-Leonard was silent, gazing in the coals with almost a melancholy air.
-
-"Perhaps I should not say so," he said at last, "yet you have been so
-frank with me; but I do not like the subject when applied to myself.
-However, there is but one answer, which is embodied in that one
-word that hangs like a pall before the eyes of the young literary
-aspirant--_refused_. I shall always be single, Darley. Always the same
-old solitary sixpence, with my rods and guns and dogs and books. Not bad
-companions, all of them, when used well--faithful, too. Eh, Rosy?"
-
-The beautiful hound addressed raised her head and looked pathetically at
-her master, rubbing her nose in a sympathetic way against his leg.
-
-Darley felt deeply interested. "What was the trouble, old fellow?" he
-ventured.
-
-"The whole story is contained in that one word--refused. I never cared
-for but one woman; and _she_ did not care for me--at least, not enough
-to marry. Which was, after all, the most natural thing in the world, I
-suppose. I could not blame her, could I, since I would only marry for
-love myself? It is not much of a story, is it?"
-
-"On the contrary, I think there is a great deal in it!" answered Darley,
-warmly. "I think I see that you loved this woman as only men with hearts
-like yours can love--once and for all."
-
-"Loved her? My love has no past participle, Darley! I shall always love
-her! I shall always think her the sweetest woman in the world, and the
-best! There is no other like her--God bless her! But you are sleepy, old
-fellow; and even Rosy is yawning and thinks it is time all decent people
-went to bed. Let us have one of the old-time horns, one of those old
-camp-fire nips--and then to bed. To-morrow you shall see our little
-town. By the way, did you bring your skates?"
-
-"Skates! I haven't seen one for five years."
-
-"Never mind. I have a dozen pairs, and I dare say we can fit you. Do
-you curl? No? Well, you shall learn. We have the finest rink within a
-hundred miles. Here's your room, old fellow! Good-night, and rosy dreams
-and slumbers bright, as Sir Walter says."
-
-The days passed happily for Darley. The ice was perfect; and though he
-had not skated for years, his old power over the art came swiftly back.
-The river was one glaring, narrow, indefinite sheet of incomparable ice.
-Then there was the curling-rink, of which Leonard was an ardent devotee.
-It is a quiet, satisfying sport, this "roaring" game, and has peculiar
-charms for the man who has turned forty. The snow-bird shooting was
-good, too, out in the broad white fields beyond the town. And one
-glittering night the pair drove out into the country, and went on a hunt
-after some depredatory foxes with some farmers. They did not get the
-foxes; but they had a jolly supper at the farm-house, and an eight-hand
-reel in the kitchen, which Darley thoroughly enjoyed--more, he affirmed
-to his black-eyed partner, than any ball in the city he had ever
-attended.
-
-One morning, Leonard having some business to detain him, Darley went off
-alone for the customary spin down the river. Skating out of the town
-and away past the white fields and the farmhouses, he presently espied a
-small feminine figure ahead of him, gliding quietly along. Suddenly
-the figure tripped and fell. One skate had come off and flew out to the
-center of the ice.
-
-Darley sped to the rescue. The little figure in gray made a futile
-attempt to rise.
-
-[Illustration: 0252]
-
-"Are you hurt?" exclaimed the rescuer as he wheeled to a short stop.
-
-The lady looked up, and Darley saw the likeness in an instant. It was
-the other Miss Charteris--not at all like his acquaintance of the city.
-A rather pale, patient little face, with quiet gray eyes set far apart;
-a plain face, Darley said to himself. But on second thought he decided
-that it was not.
-
-"I am afraid I have hurt my ankle," said this little woman in answer to
-Darley's inquiry. "I tried to stand up, but I got a twinge that told me
-something was wrong."
-
-"Let me help you. Which foot is it?"
-
-"This one," indicating the foot minus the skate.
-
-Darley lifted her up. "Now you keep the injured member off the ice," he
-said, "and I will skate you to shore."
-
-"It was all my fault," said the patient, as Darley knelt down and
-removed the remaining skate. "I would put on these old-fashioned things
-just because the blades are splendid."
-
-Darley secured the refractory skate and removed his own. Then he asked
-how the ankle felt.
-
-Miss Charteris attempted to stand upon both feet, but sat down upon the
-bank instantly.
-
-"It _does_ hurt," she said, as if unwilling to admit the painful fact.
-She looked at Darley almost appealingly, then about her. The nearest
-house was a quarter of a mile away. Finally she looked back at Darley,
-with an expression that seemed to say, What are we going to do now, I
-wonder?
-
-Darley made up his mind quickly. He always did when a woman was in the
-question. "You can't walk," he said; "I shall have to carry you."
-
-Miss Charteris' pale cheeks assumed a rapid flush. "I can walk," she
-said, hastily.
-
-"Very well," said Darley, gently. "Take my arm."
-
-A few painful steps proved to Miss Charteris that she _could_ walk, at
-the expense of excruciating agony. So, being a sensible little soul, she
-stopped.
-
-"You see, it is impossible," said her knight. "You will have to let me
-carry you, Miss Charteris. I beg your pardon for not introducing myself.
-I am Mr. Percy Darley, a guest at Mr. John Leonard's."
-
-"I knew you were Mr. Darley, but I don't see how you knew that I was
-Miss Charteris," said that young lady, looking surprised, and quite
-forgetting her ankle.
-
-"I have the pleasure of knowing your sister, and I recognized the
-likeness," answered Darley, truthfully. "Now, will you allow me? Or I am
-afraid I shall have to take the law into my own hands."
-
-"I am not the law," retorted Miss Charteris, attempting to proceed.
-
-"The very reason that I should become the law," answered Darley,
-laughing.
-
-"I think I can _hop_," said the girl, desperately. She did so for a few
-yards, and then came to a last halt. Hopping through deep snow proved
-rather heavy exercise.
-
-"I am afraid you will have to carry me," she said in a tone of
-surrender.
-
-Darley picked her up. She was no weight, this little gray thing, and
-Darley was an athletic young man. Despite the snow, it did not take him
-long to reach the farm-house.
-
-The farmer's wife was a kind soul, and knew Miss Charteris. She also
-knew a sprain, she said, when she saw one; and Miss Charteris' ankle was
-sprained. So, while the injured member was being attended to by the
-deft hand of the farmer's wife, Darley posted off to the town for Miss
-Charteris' aunt's sleigh, the farmer being absent with his own.
-
-Darley secured the sleigh, drove back to the farm-house, and his charge,
-her ankle warmly and carefully wrapped up, was placed in the cutter and
-driven home. The family doctor had already arrived, and Darley took his
-leave.
-
-"May I call and see how you are get-ing on?" he ventured as he said
-good-by.
-
-"I shall be happy if you will," said Miss Charteris. But the gray eyes
-seemed to say to Darley, Could you think of not doing so?
-
-"I am afraid you are in love, or on the way," said this young man to
-himself as he walked briskly to his friend's house. "In love, young
-fellow, and with a real woman, not a woman of the world, but a genuine
-sweet woman, one worth the loving."
-
-He related the story as simply as he could to Leonard, and the latter
-listened quietly. But Darley did not observe the odd look in his
-friend's eyes during the narration, nor did he guess that Leonard was
-saying to himself, Ah! my young friend, and have you, too, fallen at the
-first shaft?
-
-"Shall we go round to the rink?" suggested Leonard the following
-evening, after dinner, as they sat over their pipes.
-
-"I think I will stroll round and see how Miss Charteris is," said
-Darley, smoking furiously. "I will call in at the rink afterward, eh?"
-
-"Very well, old fellow," was all Leonard said.
-
-Darley found Miss Charteris' ankle improved. The doctor had pronounced
-it a severe sprain, had prescribed some wonderful liniment, and had
-alleviated the pain.
-
-"But I shall not be able to be out again for three weeks," said the
-invalid, plaintively, on the occasion of a second visit of anxious
-inquiry. "It is too bad; for I think open-air skating the most
-exhilarating of all sport! It always seems to lift me up."
-
-"It didn't seem to lift you up yesterday," suggested Darley.
-
-"No, indeed. I have thought since that I should be very grateful to you,
-because, if you had not happened along, I am sure I don't know what I
-should have done."
-
-"Don't talk like that, please," said Darley, gravely. It is wonderful
-the aversion a young man has to being thanked in a case of this sort--at
-least, his profession of dislike. "I cannot tell you how unfortunate
-I regard the doctor's mandate," said Darley after one of those awkward
-pauses between two young people who fancy, on a short acquaintance,
-that they have a tender regard for each other. "On your own account, of
-course, because I can understand how you feel over losing such a chance
-as the present ice affords; but chiefly, I am selfish enough to say, on
-my own behalf, because by the time you are able to skate again, even if
-the ice is still good, my visit will have come to an end; and I had been
-hoping, presumptuously enough, I know, to see you often."
-
-"Will it be really imperative for you to return so soon?" said Miss
-Charteris, working rapidly at the woolen hood on which she was engaged.
-
-"I am afraid so," answered Darley, with something very like a sigh. "I
-could not infringe on too much of Leonard's time----"
-
-"Ah! it is not the city which calls, then?"
-
-"No, it is not the city," answered Darley, laughing, and being angrily
-conscious that he was flushing. "But Jack is such a dear good fellow,
-that I know he would not dream of sending me away."
-
-Miss Charteris' eyes were on her work, and she plied her fingers
-rapidly.
-
-"Do you know Leonard very well, Miss Charteris?" continued Darley, as
-the girl did not venture a remark.
-
-"Oh, yes!" The tone might have suggested that Miss Charteris was
-agitated; but Darley went on, radiant and sublimely ignorant.
-
-"He is a grand fellow--the one man in the world that I would fall down
-and worship! I think Shakespeare must have had him in his vaticinal eye
-when he put those perfect words, that immortal eulogy, in the mouth
-of Antony: 'His life was gentle; and the elements so mixed in him that
-Nature might stand up and say to all the world, '_this_ was a man!'"
-
-The maid came in and asked if she should light the lamps.
-
-"Not just yet. I prefer this twilight. Do you, Mr. Darley?"
-
-"Very much--for itself. It is very satisfying and soothing, and always
-seems to me like a benediction. But it is very bad for your eyes, and
-very soon I shall be only able to half see your face."
-
-"Which will be very good for _your_ eyes. Well, I have done work
-for today." Miss Charteris laid the hood away, which Darley had been
-regarding curiously, and folded her hands in her lap. The action and the
-moment made Darley think of the "Angelus;" the "Angelus" made him think
-that it was getting late, and that made him think that it was time to
-go. The lamps, he said, had come round, and----
-
-"No, sit down, unless you really want to go," said Miss Charteris. She
-was remarkably frank, this young lady. "The lamps have not come round;
-and, on the contrary, I think that my disinclination for them should be
-taken as proof that I do not think it is time for you to go. Besides,
-the days are cruelly short now."
-
-"I find them so," answered Darley, softly. "Leonard is making everything
-so comfortable for me that I do not know what I shall feel like when the
-curtain has rung down. It will seem like awaking suddenly from dreamland
-to cold earth again. I am sure I shall feel like one of those mountains
-falling into the sea of dullness that Poe describes: 'Mountains toppling
-evermore into seas without a shore.'"
-
-"You seem a great admirer of Mr. Leonard," ventured Miss Charteris.
-There was just the slightest suspicion of jealousy in her tone, which
-Darley did not notice. Was it because he had inadvertently attributed
-his loneliness at leaving to his friend's kindness, and not paid her
-that little tribute of homage which women love? But who knoweth the
-heart of woman? Darley longed to tell her why he should feel lonely
-when he came to say good-by; but he did not wish to garnish such
-a declaration with quotations from poets. Let a man speak from the
-inspiration of the moment when he tells his love, or hints at it.
-
-"Admirer!" he echoed, in reply to Miss Charteris' remark. "It is more
-than that. Just think! We were inseparable for years. I wish we had
-remained so. No one who knows Jack Leonard as I have known him could
-help thinking him a perfect man, noble and generous, as he is!"
-
-"We are one in that opinion," answered Miss Charteris, quietly. "And,
-next to esteeming a noble man, I can esteem his friend who can speak so
-unselfishly and sincerely of him, as you have done."
-
-Darley felt touched--not so much at the words, but at the way in which
-they were spoken, gently, deeply, as if breathing of sincereness. But he
-did not distinguish anything beyond that in the grave eulogy to Leonard
-and himself.
-
-At length the lights _had_ to be brought in, and Darley rose to go.
-
-"You said you felt it unfortunate that I should be unable to skate,
-because you had been hoping to see me often," said Miss Charteris. She
-was conscious of a slight flush, but she went bravely on. In certain
-circumstances a woman _has_ to be what prudes call bold. "Did you mean
-it?"
-
-"How could you doubt that I meant it? I certainly did mean it."
-Darley was a little confused by this frankness. All true women must be
-coquettes in some degree, was Darley's creed. But Miss Charteris was
-hardly a coquette even in a slight degree, he thought. It was not
-frivolousness that prompted her to speak in this way.
-
-"Because, if you meant it," continued this charming young person, "I
-shall be glad if you will come and see me as often as you like, if you
-will not find it dull."
-
-Miss Spooner, Miss Charteris' aunt, came in at this moment and spoiled
-the eloquent look of reproach that Darley gave her niece.
-
-"Did you ever see such a girl!" exclaimed Miss Spooner in her high but
-pleasant voice. Miss Spooner's speech was emphatic, and endowed with
-realism. Darley felt like saying that he never had, indeed. "_I_ never
-did! Going into mourning, I believe, because she can't go out and break
-another ankle! You wouldn't catch _me_ on that ice! I saw it to-day from
-the bridge--horrible, shiny, treacherous stuff! Not going already, Mr.
-Darley? Better stop to tea."
-
-Darley said he could not stop to tea _that evening_; which meant that he
-could some other evening, of course, and would be unspeakably happy to
-do so. All of which Miss Spooner understood; and so she extended her
-hospitality to him for the next evening.
-
-*****
-
-"Do you know, Percy, I believe you are going to marry Miss Charteris,"
-said Leonard, quietly, one evening. "_Our_ Miss Charteris, I mean."
-
-"What makes you say so?"
-
-"I believe you are in love with her; in fact, I know you are. And I hope
-you will. Nothing could make me happier." Darley looked the satisfaction
-he could not speak at this little speech.
-
-"I am in love with her. But I am not good enough for her," he said,
-humbly. "I have been a worthless beggar all these years----"
-
-"You can prove your worth," said Leonard, warmly. "And you _must_, if
-you marry Florence Charteris. I know you are not worthless; but you must
-let the good come to the surface."
-
-"I shall work," answered Darley, earnestly. "I begin to feel now the
-approving glow that comes to a man when he anticipates marrying a woman
-he loves. But why should I anticipate? I have not the slightest reason
-to believe that Miss Charteris cares a jot for me!"
-
-"Is that true, Percy?" questioned Leonard, sharply.
-
-Darley did not know whether it was true or not. He did not like to be
-sanguine, he said. No; he had no reason to think Miss Charteris cared
-whether he went back to town to-morrow. Not an item of which Leonard
-believed.
-
-"I hope earnestly you will win her," he said again. "But you will have
-to retrench. Florence Charteris is as poor as a church mouse."
-
-"I am heartily glad of it," said Darley, warmly. "I shall be the man I
-have never yet been if I win her."
-
-"Well, you will win her," said Leonard. "I feel it in my bones."
-
-So the days went round; and each one found Darley at Miss Spooner's.
-Even little Dutton had begun to watch with interest the outcome of this
-quiet wooing of the little lady whom all the town loved. The evolutions
-of acquaintance had merged rapidly into the sweeter plane of an almost
-wordless courtship; but as yet Darley had not ventured to speak He felt
-fearful lest his dream should be dispelled; and yet, though he was not a
-vain man, he felt that this lovable little woman cared for him. He could
-not go back to town and leave his love unspoken, however; because if he
-had done so this little story would not have been written. And at length
-came the day when he felt that his visit had been prolonged beyond the
-limits that even close friendship allows.
-
-"I am going away to-morrow," he said on this eventful afternoon. It was
-just such an afternoon as that first one which he had spent there. It
-was growing dusk; and through the window they could see the red lights
-of home, those terrestrial apostles of Hesperus, punctuating the white
-landscape.
-
-"I am going away to-morrow," repeated Darley. Miss Charteris said
-nothing, but gazed out of the window.
-
-"Why don't you say something?" he burst out. "Have you nothing to say?"
-
-"What should I say? Do you want me to say good-by? Is it such a sweet
-word, then, that you are anxious that I should say it now?"
-
-Darley knelt beside the little dusky figure in the rocker. How sweet it
-is to have the woman you love speak to you like this, and to hear her
-voice tremble, and to feel that she cares for you!
-
-"No, I don't want you to say good-by," he said, very gently. "I want you
-to tell me not to go. Can't you see that the thought of leaving you has
-been like the thought of eternal darkness to me? I love you, and I
-want you for my own, always, that I may never know the bitterness of
-good-by!" Miss Charteris turned her head, and Darley saw that the gray
-eyes he loved so well were wet. She put out one little white hand till
-it rested on his.
-
-"Stay!" she whispered.
-
-After a while, when the lamps--those horribly real and unromantic
-things--were brought in, they talked of other matters. But both seemed
-very happy, and ready to talk of anything. Even the mysterious hood,
-which was now completed, came in for a share of attention, and the
-inquisitive Darley learned that it was for a "poor old soul," as Miss
-Charteris expressed it, who lived in a wretched little shanty with
-a worthless grandson, at the other end of the town. By-and-by Miss
-Charteris said:
-
-"I have some news for you. Bella was married yesterday. Can you guess to
-whom?"
-
-"No, I cannot," answered Darley, almost breathlessly. Bella was the
-Miss Charteris of the city. He did not know whether to feel glad or
-indifferent, but he was free of the gentlest touch of spleen. A woman
-will be conscious of a twinge of pique when she hears that a man with
-whom she has had some little love affair has married some one else. But
-Darley was not conscious of any such sensation.
-
-"It was very quiet," continued Miss Charteris. "At least, I gather so
-from the paper which tells me of it. Bella never writes me, and not
-even on this occasion has she done so. However, she is now Mrs. Lawrence
-Severance."
-
-"Oh!" exclaimed Darley in a superior tone, which testified that he knew
-something about it. Then he mentioned having met Severance. He had not
-said anything of the occurrence before, not caring for Miss Charteris of
-the city as a subject of conversation with her sister, for reasons best
-known to himself.
-
-"There is quite a little story about it, you know," continued Miss
-Florence. "Lawrence, you know, and Bella have been lovers ever since
-they were so high, and Bella was Aunt Mary Spooner's favorite. When Aunt
-Mary died she left a great deal of money for Bella when she should come
-of age, stipulating, however, that Bella should have only a certain
-allowance till she was beyond a marriageable age."
-
-"And, pray, what age is that?" asked Darley, laughing.
-
-"I should not have cared to ask Aunt Mary that question. The reason was
-that Lawrence was the son of an old sweetheart of Aunt Mary's, who had
-jilted her without any mercy; and so the sins of the father were visited
-upon the head of the son. 'Marry Lawrence, my dear,' says Aunt Mary, 'if
-you like, but you don't have my money. Florence shall have it the day
-you marry Lawrence Severance.'"
-
-Darley started as if stung. "Eh?" he exclaimed, "I don't understand!"
-
-"Then listen. 'Oh, ho!' quoth Lawrence, when he grew up and understood
-the story. 'So that is the way of love, is it? Well, there are more
-fortunes than Aunt Mary's in the world.' And away went Lawrence, nothing
-daunted, to win--what I hear he has won--double the fortune that Bella,
-in marrying him, hands over to me."
-
-"Then you mean to say that this--money comes to you; that you are a rich
-woman, in fact?" Darley's tone was almost bitten.
-
-"Yes!" answered Miss Florence, gleefully, and clapping her little hands.
-"Aren't you glad?"
-
-"Glad? I hate it!"
-
-"Hate it?"
-
-"Yes, hate it! I was glorying in the fact that if I won you I would
-marry a poor woman. Now--" Darley did not finish his sentence.
-
-"You must not talk like that," said Miss Florence with some asperity.
-"It is very wrong, and it hurts me, although I know I should be pleased.
-But I know you love me for all that. Money is a very good thing--God's
-gift in the hands of those who use it well. There is a great deal of
-good that we can do with Aunt Mary's money. She was very good herself
-to the poor, despite her unnatural dislike for Lawrence Severance; and I
-should like her to know that her mantle had fallen on worthy shoulders.
-You and I shall use this money to a great purpose."
-
-"But you don't know what a happy thing it has been to me, this thought
-of winning you and proving my love by earnest work!"
-
-"And need that resolve be dissipated?" said Miss Florence, gravely. "You
-shall do that. There is a great deal of work to be done."
-
-*****
-
-Leonard met Darley on his return, and drew him into the light.
-
-"I have won her, Jack!" said the younger man, grasping his friend's
-hand. "The sweetest and the noblest woman God ever made!"
-
-"I see it in your face," said Leonard, huskily. Even Darley could not
-fail to notice the change in his friend's voice. "What is the matter,
-old man?" he exclaimed. "You----"
-
-"Nothing, nothing, my boy," Leonard answered quickly. "But promise me
-one thing: that you will make her a noble husband, always--always!"
-
-Then Darley understood.
-
-"Dear old Jack!" he said tenderly. "What a fool I have been! Can you
-forgive me?"
-
-"There is nothing to forgive, my boy--nothing. But you must always be
-good to her. But never get angry because another man besides yourself
-worships your wife."
-
-[Illustration: 0265]
-
-[Illustration: 0266]
-
-
-
-
-THE BEAR 'S-HEAD BROOCH, By Ernest Ingersoll
-
-
-[Illustration: 0267]
-
-[Illustration: 0268]
-
-[Illustration: 9268]
-
-HE story I am about to narrate happened this way, Thomas Burke and I
-were old schoolmates. But his course and mine had been widely divergent
-for a score of years, so that by the time he had brought his family back
-to New York, and our acquaintance could be renewed, many untold things
-had happened to each.
-
-I knew Tom had won his fortune by mining in the Rocky Mountains. It was
-rumored that his accomplished wife also had wealth in her own right, but
-Tom never had much to say in regard to his financial matters, and I did
-not like to question him notwithstanding our intimacy. I had dined with
-him two Christmases in succession, and now for the third time had eaten
-my Christmas dinner at his table.
-
-On each of these occasions Mrs. Burke had worn at her throat a
-magificient brooch which I had never seen at any other time, though I
-had met her often when such an ornament would have been suitable enough.
-This brooch was a bear's face, holding in its teeth a tiny steel key.
-It was a marvel of delicacy in the goldsmith's art, and evidently very
-costly; for the eyes were each a ruby, and the head was encircled with
-large diamonds, half hidden by hairs of gold, as though they represented
-a collar round bruin's hirsute neck.
-
-"Tom," I said, when Mrs. Burke had left us to ourselves after dinner, "I
-am very curious about that bear's head brooch your wife wears. Why do
-I never see it except at Christmas? I am sure it has a history, and if
-there is no secret about it I wish you would enlighten me."
-
-"Well," said my old friend, "that is rather a lengthy story. There is no
-secret about it--at least none to keep from an old chum like you. As for
-the brooch, that's only an ornament I had made some years ago; but the
-design and the little key--which is a real key--remind Marion and myself
-of what we call our Christmas story, because it culminated on that day.
-
-"When you and I left the old university in 1870, and you came here, and
-I went West----"
-
-But if I were to tell the story as he did, it would hardly be as plain
-to you as it was to me. I must write it out.
-
-When Tom Burke left the university after his graduation he took the few
-hundred dollars which were the measure of his capital and went to the
-Rocky Mountains to seek his fortune. In the autumn of 1871 he became
-the superintendent of the Crimson Canyon Mining Company in Southern
-Colorado, where he found as assayer, and scientific assistant generally,
-a queer, learned and proud old Scotchman named Corbitt. This man had
-been one of the "Forty-niners" and had made a fortune which he had
-greatly enjoyed while it lasted, and the loss of which, in some
-wrong-headed speculation, he never ceased to deplore.
-
-Now, a few weeks before Tom's arrival at the camp, Corbitt's home had
-been brightened by the coming of his daughter Marion, on what he told
-his envious acquaintances was a "veesit," implying that she could not be
-expected to make her home there.
-
-And truly this remote mountain settlement, inclement in climate,
-uncouth, dusty, filled with rough men, and bountiful only in pure air
-and divine pictures of crag and glen, icy-blue peaks and chromatic
-patches of stained cliff above or flower meadow below--all this was
-anything but the sort of place for a girl like her to spend her maiden
-days in.
-
-Perhaps it was not quite a case of love at first sight between her and
-Tom, but certainly the winter had not passed before each had confessed
-that there was no one else in the world beside the other whose presence
-much mattered in the way of happiness.
-
-But that seemed to be the end of it, for Corbitt gave young Burke to
-understand most decisively that he could hope for nothing more--an
-engagement to marry was out of the question.
-
-"Love, let us wait," was Marion's last word, when, on her first and last
-tryst, she had stolen away to meet him, and he counted her kisses as a
-miser counts his gold.
-
-"Let us wait. I care for nobody else, and nobody can marry me against
-my will. We are young yet. Who knows what may happen? You may get money
-enough to satisfy papa--I don't suppose he holds me at a very, very high
-price, do you? Or I may be freer after a while to do as I wish."
-
-This was commonplace advice enough, but Tom saw both the good sense and
-the pure love in it, and accepted the decree, steeling his heart against
-the impulses of rage and revolt.
-
-And then, quite unexpectedly, Mr. Corbitt resigned his place and went
-to Denver, taking his family with him. The same week the mine changed
-owners, and Burke was superseded by a new superintendent; and so, almost
-at a stroke, the lad lost both his sweetheart and the weapon by which he
-was to fight for her in the business tournament of the world. However,
-the latter evil was presently remedied, and he worked on, saving his
-money and teasing his brain for suggestions how to make it increase
-faster.
-
-At that time the mighty range had never been very carefully prospected.
-Men had, indeed, ascended Crimson Creek to its sources in search of
-the deposits of quartz whence the auriferous gravels below had been
-enriched, but they had brought back a discouraging report. Tom was
-not satisfied to accept their conclusions. He was confident, from the
-geological and other indications, that treasures of ore lay undiscovered
-among those azure heights. At last, resolved to see for himself, he
-enlisted the help of a young miner and mountaineer named Cooper, and one
-day late in August they started.
-
-After passing the pillared gateways of the Canyon, and ascending for a
-few miles the great gorge down which the creek cascaded over boulders
-and ledges of granite and rounded fragments of trachyte and quartz, you
-come to a noble cataract leaping into the Canyon from the left through a
-narrow gash or depression in the wall. By climbing up the opposite slope
-a little way, you see that this stream comes tumbling white and furious
-down a long rugged stairway of rocky fragments before it reaches the
-brink, whence it shoots out in the air and then falls in a thousand
-wreaths of dangling vapor.
-
-"Cooper," Tom called out to his companion, who was more comrade than
-servant, "I guess we'll camp here. I want to examine this side gorge a
-bit."
-
-"It looks to me," remarked Tom, "as if this had formerly been the main
-stream, and had carried pretty much all the drainage of the valley until
-a big landslide--and it didn't happen so very long ago either--dammed
-the exit of the valley and changed the shape of things generally, eh?"
-
-"That's about the size of it, I guess. But, I say, ain't that smoke down
-there by the lake?"
-
-[Illustration: 0276]
-
-"I reckon we've got time enough to go and see. It ain't far down there,
-and the moon'll show us the way back if we get late."
-
-Noting their bearings, they began the descent toward the lake and
-presently came out upon its border, where the walking was easier.
-Advancing cautiously half a mile or thereabout, they again caught sight
-of the smoke through the bushes--a feeble column rising from some embers
-before a small shelter of boughs and bark that hardly deserved the
-name of hut. A skillet, a light pick and shovel, and one or two other
-household articles lay near by, but nothing alive appeared.
-
-"No Injun 'bout that," said Cooper.
-
-"No, Cooper; more likely a prospector."
-
-Hallooing as they neared the hut, a lean and miserable dog rushed out
-and greeted them with ferocious growls, whereupon they heard a weak
-voice speaking to him, and saw a frowsy gray head and a bony hand,
-clutching a revolver, stretched out of the opening that answered for a
-door.
-
-[Illustration: 0284]
-
-"Hello!" Tom cried. "Call off your dog; we're friends."
-
-Then a tousled, ragged, gaunt-limbed figure, emaciated with hunger, wild
-eyed with fever, dragged itself from the sheltering brush, gave one long
-look at the stalwart strangers, and fell back on the stony ground in a
-dead faint, while the dog, rushing forward with the courage of a starved
-wolf, planted himself before the corpse-like form and defied them to
-touch it.
-
-They fought off the animal, brought water from the lake and revived the
-man. A dram from Tom's flask stimulated him, whereupon he sat up and
-began to chatter incoherently, thanks to God and wild exclamations about
-some hidden treasure mingling with such plaintive cries as "She'll be
-all right now!" and "Mebbe she'll forgive her old dad!" making up the
-whole of his ceaseless talk.
-
-"He's clean crazy!" was Cooper's opinion.
-
-"Yes," Tom assented, "but it is fever and famine. Couldn't you shoot a
-rabbit or something? Then I could make him a stew. Try it."
-
-But all that Cooper could quickly find to kill were three mountain jays,
-which were converted into a broth, thickened with the dust of flour that
-remained. A little tea was also found in the sick man's pack, and this
-was brewed for him. Then Cooper volunteered to go back to their own camp
-and bring over more food and Tom's little medicine case.
-
-The next day he fetched the rest of their luggage, and in the afternoon
-shot a deer. So they encamped here beside the lake and nursed the old
-fellow until his fever subsided and the delirium had ceased to a great
-extent. Then by easy stages, partly carrying him on a stretcher, partly
-assisting him to walk, they managed to take him back to Crimson Camp and
-gave him a bed in Tom's cabin.
-
-But the strain of this effort had been too much for the aged and feeble
-frame. No sooner was the excitement of the march at an end than a
-relapse occurred, and for a fortnight the old man hovered on the edge of
-death; skill and care seemed to conquer, however, and one morning peace
-came to the tortured brain and the old prospector began to get better.
-
-Now at last he was awake, with seeming intelligence in his eyes, asking
-where he was and who were the people around him. Tom explained and then
-questioned him in return.
-
-But the mystery was not to be so easily solved. The invalid could
-not tell his name, nor where he had come from. He said he had been
-prospecting all his life--where--how long--all particulars were a blank.
-
-"I can't remember anything but the cache--nothing else at all," he
-declared, gazing piteously into one face after another.
-
-"Tell us about that, then."
-
-He felt in his bosom and drew out the little pouch. It was opened for
-him and its contents--a fragment of quartz heavy with gold and a tiny
-steel key--taken out.
-
-"Ah! What do you call that?" he inquired eagerly, pointing to the yellow
-metal.
-
-"Gold."
-
-"Yes? Well, there is lots of that in my cache."
-
-"Where is your cache?" inquired Tom.
-
-The old fellow dropped his head and tried to think, but couldn't clutch
-any of the motes of memory dodging like phantasmagoria before his eyes.
-
-"I can't tell," he confessed, with infinite sadness. "I reckon I'd know
-the place if I saw it. And I've forgotten everything before that, but it
-seems to me that I fell a great ways, and lay for years and years with
-an awful pain in my head. Then all at once my head got better and I
-opened my eyes--mebbe it was a dream--and there I and the dog were in
-a little camp 'way up a big gulch. I knew the place, but I felt kind o'
-weak and dizzy-like and 'lowed I'd make a cache o' all my stuff, and go
-down to Del Nort' and see a doctor. So I dug a hole beside a big rock
-that had a peculiar mark on it, and put into it most o' my grub and some
-papers, and a lot o' that yellow stuff--what d'ye call it?--and reckoned
-they'd be safe till I come back in three or four weeks. I can remember
-all about the cache and my camp there, and my leavin' it and climbin'
-down a devilish steep place, and there I stop and can't remember nothin'
-since."
-
-This was absolutely all that was left of the man's memory, and, though
-he was now quite sane, he had to be taught the names and uses of many
-of the commonest objects. Moreover, he seemed to grow weaker instead
-of stronger, and after a few days the physician announced that his
-patient's end was near. When the old fellow was told this he called Tom
-to his bedside, and said to him:
-
-"Pardner, you've done the square thing by me, and I want you to have
-half the traps in that cache after I've passed in my checks, and give
-the other half to--to--oh, God! Now I can't remember!"
-
-Then his face brightened again.
-
-"Oh, the letters'll tell! Read the letters and give her half of it. I'll
-sign a paper if you'll write it."
-
-So a will was made, and the dying man made a mark before witness, in
-lieu of the signature he had lost the power to make, and the next day he
-died.
-
-The miners generally believed the stranger's story of this cache to be
-a figment of his disordered imagination, and Tom himself might have
-yielded to this theory had not the physician assured him that there was
-a fair chance of its truth.
-
-So Tom preserved the will, the quartz and the key, hoping that chance
-might sometime disclose the treasure trove if there were any; and a
-few days later he and young Cooper started a second time on their
-prospecting tour. This time they took a burro with them, and so were
-able to carry a small tent and outfit for a fortnight's trip.
-
-By active marching they reached the lake that night, finding it slow
-work to get their unwilling donkey up the steep rocks at the fall, by a
-circuitous trail and aided by some actual lifting of the little beast.
-They researched the hut, but found nothing new. The dog, now fat
-and strong, and a devoted friend, accompanied them and betrayed most
-excitedly his recognition of the bivouac. Next morning they made their
-way up to the head of the lake, where the breadth of the gulch and the
-appearance of things confirmed Tom's previous surmise that this was
-originally the main channel of drainage.
-
-If this were true they ought to get evidence of drift gold; and several
-days were spent in panning the gravels (nowhere, however, of great
-extent), with most encouraging results. A few miles above the lake they
-found the gulch forked into two ravines divided by a rocky spur. They
-chose the right-hand one and lost three days in fruitless exploration of
-its bed and walls. Shep (the dog was a collie and they had rechristened
-him) did not display anything like the joy he had shown in the advance
-up the main stream, and when they finally returned to the forks
-they could not but notice his renewed spirits. The dog was again all
-eagerness, and intensely delighted when on the following morning they
-started up the left-hand gulch.
-
-"It looks as though his master had come down that way, doesn't it?"
-said Tom. "Maybe he could guide us right back to where he came from; but
-he'll have to wait a while, for I like the look of that crag up there,"
-directing his companion's attention to the crest of the wall on the
-left, "and I want to examine it. You'd better stay here and try to get a
-blacktail. Bacon three times a day is getting monotonous."
-
-"Don't you think you'd better take the Winchester?" said Cooper. (They
-had brought but one rifle.) "You might hit up against a grizzly or a
-mountain lion. I heard one of 'em screeching last night."
-
-"No; I can't lug a gun. I've got my six shooter, and I'll risk it. Come
-on, Shep! It's noon now, and we won't get back to supper if we don't
-hurry."
-
-The dog raced gleefully ahead as the young man strode up the gulch,
-scanning its rugged slope in search of a convenient place to begin the
-ascent, and presently, as though cognizant of the plan, the dog turned
-aside and with loud barking and much tail wagging invited attention to a
-dry watercourse that offered a sort of path.
-
-"I guess you're right, Shep," Tom assented, and set his face to the
-sturdy climb.
-
-Half way up a ledge, covered with cedars and Spanish bayonet, made the
-ascent really arduous for a little way, and here the dog, which as usual
-was some rods in advance, suddenly began barking furiously, and capering
-around a small object.
-
-"Chipmunk, I reckon," said Tom to himself, as he scrambled on, short of
-breath; but when Shep came sliding down, holding in his mouth a battered
-old felt hat, curiosity changed to amazement. The dog growled at first,
-and refused to give up his prize, but after a little coaxing yielded it
-into Tom's hands.
-
-The old prospector had had no hat when found. Could this be it? It did
-not seem to have lain out of doors long, and the dog would hardly show
-so much interest unless his sharp nose had recognized it as something
-belonging to his former inaster. Closely scrutinizing, Tom found tucked
-into the lining a slip of sweat-stained paper with a name upon it--
-
-ARTHUR F. PIERSON,
-
-Tucsony Arizona.
-
-Stuffing the hat into his pocket Tom scrambled on, thinking out the
-meaning of the incident; and now he began to notice in this steeper
-place that some of the boulders had been misplaced, and here and there
-was a broken branch, as, if someone had descended very hastily or
-clumsily.
-
-"If that crazy old man came down here, and perhaps caught a second bad
-fall, I don't wonder he was used up by the time he reached the lake"
-was Tom's mental ejaculation, as he toiled up the acclivity and at last,
-panting and leg weary, gained a narrow grassy level at the foot of a
-crag "spiked with firs," which had been conspicuous from the valley not
-only by its height and castellated battlements, but because a colossal X
-was formed on its face by two broad veins of quartz crossing each other.
-
-With his eyes fixed upon the rocky wall he walked along in the face of
-a stiff breeze, until he noticed a pinkish streak upon the dark cliff,
-betokening the outcrop of another vein, and turned aside to climb a pile
-of fallen fragments at the foot of the crag to reach it. These fragments
-were overgrown with low, dense shrubbery. He ducked his head and was
-pushing into them, when suddenly he saw a huge brown body rise almost
-into his face, heard the tremendous growl of a grizzly, and amid a crash
-of bushes and dislodged stones felt himself hurled backward.
-
-Clutching instinctively at one of the shrubs as he fell, he whirled
-under its hiding foliage, and the vicious stroke of the bear's paw
-came down upon his leg instead of his head, while the released branches
-snapped upward into the face of the brute, which, as much surprised
-as its victim, paused in its onslaught to collect its wits. An
-instant later Shep dashed up, and at the bear's hindquarters. Bruin
-spasmodically sank his claws deeper into Tom's thigh, but turned his
-head and shoulders with a terrific ursine oath at this new and most
-palpable enemy; and ten seconds afterward Tom's revolver, its muzzle
-pressed close underneath the bear's ear, had emptied half an ounce of
-lead into its brain. A blood-freezing death squeal tore the air, and the
-ponderous carcass sank down, stone dead, upon Tom's body and upon the
-dwarfed spruce which covered it. It pinned him to the ground with an
-almost insupportable weight. Perhaps if the animal alone had lain upon
-him he might have wriggled out; but the brute's carcass also held down
-the tough and firmly-rooted tree, and the rocks on each side formed a
-sort of trough. Turn and strain as he would Tom could not free
-himself from the burden which threatened to smother him. Moreover, the
-convulsive death throe had forcibly tightened the grip of the claws
-in the side of his knee, which felt as if in some horrible torturing
-machine of the Inquisition; and had he not been able at last to reach
-that paw with his left hand and pull it away from the wound he would
-have died under the agony.
-
-Then, as he felt the blood running hot and copious down his leg, a new
-fear chilled his heart. Might he not bleed to death? There seemed no end
-to the hemorrhage, and what hope had he of succor? He thought of firing
-signals of distress, but could not reach the pistol, which had been
-knocked out of his hand. He spoke to the dog, which was barking and
-worrying at the bear's hind leg, and Shep came and licked his face and
-sniffed at his blood-soaked trousers. Then, as if even he realized how
-hopeless was the situation, he sat on his haunches and howled until Tom,
-hearing him less and less distinctly, imagined himself a boulder slowly
-but musically crunching to powder under the resistless advance of a
-glacier, and lost consciousness as the cold-blue dream-ice closed over
-his dust.
-
-By and by he awoke. It was dark, and something cold and soft was blowing
-against his face. He moved and felt the shaggy fur and the horrible
-pain in his leg and in his right arm, which was confined in a twisted
-position. Then he remembered, but forgot again.
-
-A second time he awoke. It was still dark, but a strange pallor
-permeated the air, and all around him was a mist of white.
-
-It was snowing fast. He closed his left hand and grasped a whole fistful
-of flakes. The body of the bear was a mound of white--like a new-made
-grave over him, he dismally thought. The snow had drifted under and
-about his shoulders. Its chill struck the wound in his thigh, which
-throbbed as though hit with pointed hammers, keeping time to the
-pulsations of his heart; but, thank God! he no longer felt that horrible
-warm trickling down his leg. He had been preserved from bleeding to
-freeze to death. How long before that would happen; or, if it were not
-cold enough for that, how long before the snow would drift clear over
-him and cut off the little breath which that ponderous, inert, dead-cold
-beast on his chest prevented from entering his lungs? Where was the
-dog? He called feebly: "Shep! Shep! Hi-i-i, Sh-e-p!" But no moist nose
-or rough tongue responded. He tried to whistle, but his parched mouth
-refused. Heavens, how thirsty! He stretched out his hand and gathered
-the snow within his reach. Then he closed his eyes and dreamed that two
-giants were pulling him asunder, and that a third was pouring molten
-lead down his throat.
-
-But it was only Bill Cooper trying to make him drink whiskey.
-
-He understood it after a little and realized that he ought to swallow.
-Then life came back, and with the knowledge that he was no longer
-alone on the cold, remote, relentless mountain top, but that Cooper was
-lifting away the bear, and that Shep was wild with sympathy and gladness
-because he had been able to bring help, came courage and forbearance of
-his suffering. In the morning new strength came with the sunshine. The
-snow rapidly melted. Cooper got breakfast and Tom rebandaged his knee.
-
-"These gashes won't amount to much, unless the claws were poisoned.
-You'll have to make me a crutch, and give me a couple of days to get rid
-of the stiffness, but then I'll be all right."
-
-"How did you and the bear get into this scrimmage, anyhow? You surely
-didn't go hunting him with that there six shooter?"
-
-"Not I. The wind was blowing hard toward me, so he didn't smell nor hear
-me, and I ran right on to him. Shep was not there to warn me, but if he
-hadn't come back just as he did, or if I hadn't been able to get at my
-revolver, Old Ephraim would ha' used me up in about a minute."
-
-"I ain't a betting on one pistol shot against a grizzly, anyhow."
-
-"Of course, the chances were about one in a thousand, but I wasn't going
-to die without a shot. I suppose the bullet struck the lower part of the
-brain."
-
-"Yes," said Bill, who had been probing its track. "Tore it all to
-pieces. But what was the bear after in that brush?"
-
-"Give it up--ants, likely. You know--Great Scott! What's that dog got
-now?" Shep was coming out of the bushes, dragging a package wrapped in
-buckskin which was almost too heavy for him to handle. Cooper went and
-took it from him and brought it to the fire. It was a sort of pouch
-firmly tied with a thong. Running a knife under this the bundle fell
-apart, and a double handful of flakes and nuggets of gold and quartz
-rolled out.
-
-"The cache!" Tom shouted, comprehending instantly the meaning of this.
-"The bear was tearing it to pieces!"
-
-It was true. His strong feet had displaced the loosely-heaped stones,
-and a half-devoured side of bacon lay close by where the animal had been
-disturbed.
-
-Evidently the marauder had just begun his work. There remained in the
-cache two more pouches of gold--perhaps a quart of the metal pieces in
-all, more or less pure, for all of it had been dug out of a vein with
-hammer and knife point, none of the fragments showing the water-worn
-roundness characteristic of placer gold. Then there were a small
-quantity of provisions, some ammunition and a small rosewood box with an
-ornamental brass lock having a remarkably small and irregular keyhole.
-
-From an inner pocket of his purse Tom drew the odd little key the dead
-prospector had given him. It fitted into the hole and easily turned the
-lock. The cover sprang open, revealing a package of letters. He lifted
-them out, but did not pause to read them.
-
-Then came an envelope containing a patent to ranch lands in Arizona,
-certificates of stock in Mexican and other mines that Burke had never
-heard of, and a commission as lieutenant of artillery in the Confederate
-army. All these documents were made out to "Arthur F. Pierson,"
-establishing the fact that the lost hat was really that worn by the old
-man, as his dog had recognized.
-
-At the bottom of the box, however, Tom found what interested him most--a
-formal "claim" and description of the lode whence the gold had been
-taken, and how to reach it from this cache. It was written in pencil, in
-a very shaky hand, on two or three soiled leaves torn from a memorandum
-book and eked out with one of the covers.
-
-Then Tom took up the letters. Most of them were recent and of business
-importance, but several were old and worn with much handling. One of
-these latter was from a lawyer in San Francisco, acknowledging funds
-"sent for the support of your infant daughter," describing her health
-and growth, and the care taken of her "at the convent"--all in curt
-business phrase, but precious to the father's heart. Then there were
-two or three small letters, printed and scratched in a childish hand, to
-"dear, dear papa," and signed "Your little Polly." One of these spoke of
-Sister Agatha and Sister Theresa, showing that it was written while
-the child was still in the convent; but the others, a little later,
-prattled about a new home with "my new papa and mamma," but gave no clew
-to name or place.
-
-"This baby girl--she must be a young woman now, if she lives," Tom
-mused--"is evidently the person the poor old chap wanted me to divide
-with. It ought not to be difficult to trace her from San Francisco, I
-suppose the convent Sisters knew where she went to when they gave her
-up. But, hello! here's a picture."
-
-It was an old-fashioned daguerrotype of a handsome woman of perhaps
-four-and-twenty, in bridal finery, whose face seemed to him to have
-something familiar in its expression. But no name or date was to be
-found, and with the natural conclusion that this was probably Pierson's
-wife he puzzled a moment more over the pretty face, and then put it
-away.
-
-After a few days, when Burke was able to travel, the prospector's
-memorandum and their mountain craft together led them almost directly
-to the coveted gold vein, which ran across a shoulder of the mountain at
-the head of the gulch, like an obscure trail, finally disappearing under
-a great talus at the foot of a line of snowcapped crags.
-
-Tracing it along, they presently came upon the old man's claim marks.
-The stakes were lettered pathetically with the name of the old man's
-choosing--"Polly's Hope."
-
-Adjoining the "Hope" Tom staked out one claim for himself and another
-for his sweetheart, intending to do the proper assessment work on it
-himself if Corbitt couldn't or wouldn't; and Cooper used up most of
-what remained of the visible outcrop in a claim for himself.
-
-Returning to town their claims were registered in the Crimson Mineral
-District, and their report sent a flight of gold hunters in hot haste to
-the scene.
-
-Tom Burke, after selling everything he could send to market to turn
-into ready money, departed to Denver, carrying with him documents and
-specimens of the gold quartz to support his assertions.
-
-Keen men feted and flattered him, buttonholing him at every corner with
-whispered advice, and many proffered schemes. But he was indifferent to
-it all, and anxious as yet only to hear what Marion should say.
-
-Not a word had he heard from her directly during all the weeks of
-her absence, but indirectly he knew she had been a star in the local
-society. He had even to hunt out where she lived, finding it in a
-cottage near where the stately court house now stands.
-
-He went there, after tea, with a fastbeating heart. Had she forgotten,
-or withdrawn or been turned away by hardhearted parents and friends? He
-suspected everything and everybody, yet could give no reasons. And how
-absurd these fears looked to him--how _foolish!_--when, sitting in the
-little parlor, hand in hand, they talked over the past, and she confided
-that the same doubts had worried her now and then--"most of all, Tom,
-dear, when I hear of this wonderful success of yours."
-
-"Bless me! I had forgotten it. By your side all else----"
-
-Here the door opened--not too abruptly--and Mr. Corbitt came in, grimly
-hospitable and glad, no doubt for his own sake, to see this young fellow
-who was still true to his daughter; while Mrs. Corbitt was more openly
-cordial, as became her.
-
-"An' what's this we're hearin' aboot your new mines? They're sayin'
-down town that you've struck a regular bonanza, an'll soon be worth your
-meellions. But I told 'em 'Hoot! I'd heard the like o' that before!'"
-
-So Tom recounted briefly the story of the prospector's death and his
-will; still more briefly his adventure with the grizzly, and how it led
-to the curious disclosure of the cache. Then, with no little dramatic
-force, seeing how interested was his audience, he described the hunt for
-the vein and the finding it, produced his specimens and handed to Miss
-Marion a mass of almost solid gold embedded in its matrix.
-
-"I can't promise you," he said, as she tried to thank him with her eyes
-and a timid touch of her fingers, "that the whole ledge will equal that,
-but it is a genuine sample from near the surface."
-
-"Wonderful! Wonderful!" the old Scotchman ejaculated, with gleaming
-eyes, as Tom went on to show how regular and secure was the title to
-this possession. "But did ye no find out the name of the poor vagabone?"
-
-"Oh, yes. Didn't I mention it? His name was Arthur Pierson."
-
-Corbitt and his wife both started from their seats.
-
-"Man, did I hear ye aright?--_Arthur F. Pierson?_"
-
-"That was the name exactly. I can show it to you on the letters."
-
-"An' he charged ye to give the half of all ye found to his daughter
-Polly?"
-
-"Yes, and I mean to try to find her."
-
-"_There she sits!_" cried Mother Corbitt excitedly, before her cautious
-husband, could say "Hush!"--pointing at Marion, who gazed from one
-to the other, too much amazed to feel grieved yet at this stunning
-announcement. "We took the lassie when she was a wee bairn, and she
-would never ha' known she wasn't ours really till maybe we were dead and
-gone. Her feyther was a cankert, fashious body, but her mother was
-guid and bonnie (I knew her well in the auld country) and she died when
-Mary--that's you, my dearie--was born."
-
-"Is this her picture?" Tom asked, showing the daguerrotype.
-
-"Aye, that it is. Puir Jennie!"
-
-The rest is soon told. A company of capitalists was formed to work the
-four consolidated claims on the new vein, under the name of the Hope
-Mining Company.
-
-[Illustration: 0293]
-
-All the next season was spent by Tom Burke in developing the property
-and erecting machinery. Corbitt was there too, much thawed by the sun of
-prosperity, but his wife and daughter remained in Denver. In the autumn,
-however, the ladies went East, and as the holidays approached Tom and
-Corbitt followed them to New York, where, on Christmas eve, my hero and
-heroine were married quietly in a little church up town; and his gift
-to her was the brooch which had attracted my attention and whose
-significance was now plain.
-
-[Illustration: 0293]
-
-[Illustration: 0294]
-
-
-
-
-MISS GWYNNE'S BURGLAR, By Violet Etynge Mitchell
-
-|IN the heart of Wales, nestling between two dark frowning mountains,
-and lulled to drowsy indifference of the big outside world by the
-murmurs of the not far distant sea, stands the little village of
-Cod-y-glyn.
-
-Just outside the village, on the main road stands--or did stand ten
-years ago--an old stone house, in the middle of a large garden, which
-was surrounded on all sides by a high wall, also of stone. It was the
-pride of the owner, Miss Gwynne.
-
-One night, in the early spring of the year, there was to be a wedding at
-Cod-y-Glyn--a wedding in humble life, but anticipated with great glee by
-the invited guests, among whom were Miss Gwynne's servants, the coachman
-and his wife (who was also cook) and Ylva, their daughter, employed as a
-maid-of-all-work.
-
-Knowing the disappointment it would be to them if they were denied the
-pleasure of attending the wedding, she had declined the coachman's offer
-to remain with her, allowing his wife and daughter to go, and laughingly
-assured him that with her father's gun for company she feared nothing.
-
-Miss Gwynne retired at an early hour, having locked up the house.
-
-She lay for some time gazing through the window at the twinkling stars,
-lost in quiet retrospection.
-
-I will let Miss Gwynne tell the rest of the story in her own way,
-repeating as well as I can from memory the words as I heard them from
-her lips ten years ago.
-
-*****
-
-I cannot tell if I dozed or not, but I was conscious of the moon shining
-dimly through the clouds, and I wondered how long I had lain there.
-Reaching out for my watch, which lay on the table, I was horrified to
-feel my wrist grasped and held by a firm hand.
-
-To say I was frightened would be less correct than to say I was
-astounded, for I have always been a woman of steady nerve, and the
-present occasion called for its use.
-
-The moon had retired behind a heavy curtain of clouds, and the room was
-in complete darkness, but from the drapery at my bedside issued a voice,
-and at the same time the python-like grasp on my wrist relaxed.
-
-"I beg to apologize, madam," said this voice; "I have chosen a bungling
-manner of awakening you--foreign to my custom. Pardon me, and do not be
-alarmed. I merely wish to relieve you of any superfluous silver, jewelry
-or bank notes you do not absolutely need. But as the vandalism of
-breaking locks is out of my line, I will request you to arise and show
-me where such things are kept."
-
-By the time he had finished this speech I was myself again.
-
-"Very well," I said, "I'll get up and show you; but, as it is
-embarrassing to dress in your presence, will you step out into the hall
-and close the door while I put on my clothing?"
-
-There was a soft rustling of the curtains at the bedside, and the sound
-of footsteps on the carpet, and immediately afterward the door closed.
-
-"Five minutes, madam, is all I can give you," remarked the burglar, as
-he disappeared.
-
-It took me (after lighting the candle) two minutes to slip on a warm
-skirt, and a blue flannel wrapper over it; then, sticking my feet into
-a pair of down slippers, I had still time to snatch a roll of bills
-amounting to one hundred pounds, and pin them deftly to the lining of
-the canopy above my four-post bed.
-
-Then throwing open the door I stood on the sill facing my visitor, and
-threw the glare of the lighted candle full upon him, as he lolled in a
-careless, easy attitude against the bannisters.
-
-I had been prepared for a burglar--but I had looked for one attired
-according to the traditions of my ancestors. But here was a gentlemanly,
-mild-featured individual, such as I should have expected to find filling
-the position of a professor of Latin--perhaps of theology--in Oxford
-University.
-
-There was no appearance of a jimmy, or tools of any kind. Evidently here
-was a type of criminal with which history was unacquainted.
-
-"Madam!" he exclaimed, bowing with the grace of a French courtier, "you
-are punctuality itself. And how charming!--no hysterics--no distressing
-scenes. Allow me." He took the candle from my hand, and holding it aloft
-preceded me down the great oaken stairs, talking fluently all the while,
-but pausing at every other step to glance over his shoulder at me with
-coquettish politeness.
-
-"I wish to assure you," he remarked, "that I am no ordinary
-house-breaker. Burglary is with me a _profession_, though not the one
-(I confess) chosen for me by my parents. I saw, at an early age, that
-I must either descend to the level of the burglar, or raise him to the
-level of an artist. Behold, my dear lady, the result."
-
-He stood at the foot of the stairs and looked up at me.
-
-"Shall we proceed to the diningroom?" he asked airily; "and, as I wish
-to give you no unnecessary trouble, let me say that I do not dabble in
-_plated_ spoons; nothing but solid silver."
-
-I opened the old mahogany sideboard, in which Griffiths had, for years,
-placed the family heirlooms at night, and beheld my gentlemanly burglar
-stow them, one after another, in a capacious felt sack, which he carried
-in his hand.
-
-"Charming!" he cried. "I am a connoisseur, I assure you, and I know
-silver from plate. These articles are really worth the risk of the
-enterprise."
-
-You ask me if I was not alarmed. No, I was _not_. Personal violence was
-not in his professional line, unless opposed. I summoned all my energies
-to outwit him. I thought much and said little, for I had no intention of
-allowing him to carry off my mother's silver.
-
-After having rifled all the rooms of the most valuable articles, he
-returned to the dining-room.
-
-On the table the remains of supper still stood, consisting of a fowl,
-hardly touched, some delicately cut bread and butter, cake, and a glass
-jar containing some fancy crackers.
-
-"I will make myself entirely at home," he remarked, sitting down to the
-table, and helping himself to a wing of the chicken.
-
-"Really," he proceeded, "I have thoroughly enjoyed this evening. Not
-only have I met a most charming lady, but I have been able to prove to
-her that the terms gentleman and burglar may be synonomous."
-
-He now began on the cake. I pushed the cracker jar toward him. "Try
-them," I observed.
-
-Still smiling indulgently, and talking, he took out one of the crackers
-and began to nibble on it. It was _very dry_.
-
-I rose, and in an absent-minded manner placed on the table the remains
-of a bottle of rare old Burgundy, which had been opened the day before.
-
-"Now, really," he prattled, "I'm a very harmless man five months out
-of six--I never steal unless other means fail, or a tailor's bill comes
-due. I'm a respectable citizen and--a church member in good standing
-when I'm not on one of my professional tours. I took up burglary more
-as a resource than from necessity. Candidly speaking, now, _am_ I a
-ruffian?"
-
-[Illustration: 0302]
-
-"No!" I replied, looking directly at him. "On the contrary, you are a
-very fine-looking man."
-
-A glow of vanity spread over his face. I poured out a glass of the
-Burgundy and pushed it toward him.
-
-"England to Wales!" he cried with gallantry. "I don't generally drink,"
-he added, "but these crackers make me thirsty."
-
-"If I could only find a wife suited to my tastes," he mused, "such a
-woman as _you_ are, by George! I'd give up aesthetic burglary and settle
-down to quiet domestic bliss." He looked questioningly at me. "If"--he
-hesitated--"you could be sure I would abandon my profession--would
-you--do you think you could--condone my past and--marry me?"
-
-"That is a matter for consideration," I replied.
-
-He helped himself to another cracker.
-
-"Your proposal is so startlingly unique," I continued, "to marry one's
-burglar! Really it is quite a joke."
-
-"Isn't it?" he chuckled, evidently enjoying the idea of the oddity. "We
-are kindred spirits!" he exclaimed, convivially, but was interrupted by
-a violent fit of coughing.
-
-Seizing the bottle of Burgundy, he drained the only drop or two left.
-
-"I think, maybe, there's another bottle down in the cellar," I cried,
-artlessly. "I'll go down and see--I feel thirsty myself."
-
-"We will descend together," exclaimed my burglar, gallantly taking the
-candle from my hand and following me to the door leading to the cellar
-steps.
-
-We descended the steps chatting pleasantly--he discoursing on matrimony,
-I answering rather vaguely, but measuring the distance to the wine bins
-by my eye. They were at the far end of the cellar, and were five in
-number, each large enough to hold a quarter of a ton of coal. Before the
-furthest one I paused.
-
-[Illustration: 0300]
-
-"Here," I said, "is the brand we are looking for." I raised the heavy
-lid and looked in. "I will hold the candle," I observed; "will you get
-the bottle? I can hardly reach it."
-
-He handed me the candle and bent low over the bin. Ha! ha! Quicker than
-a flash of lightning I tipped up his heels (he was easily overbalanced),
-and into the bin he fell headlong. Down came the heavy lid. But there
-was no padlock on it. I must hurry! Blowing out the candle, I ran, for I
-knew the way, straight to the cellar steps and up them--like a cat. Then
-with a locked door between myself and my burglar, I could breathe.
-
-I heard the man kicking about down below, for of course he got out of
-the bin at once. But our cellar is a labyrinth. Seizing father's old gun
-from its resting-place in the hall, I sat down near the door at the head
-of the stairs, waiting for the worst.
-
-The door was fairly strong--that I knew; but he was a powerful man. So I
-dragged a heavy table from the sitting-room and placed it against it.
-
-Suddenly I became conscious that he had found his way to the stairs and
-was rapidly approaching the door, which was all that lay between me and
-his revengeful fury.
-
-Bracing myself against the opposite wall, I raised the old gun, and,
-deliberately aiming it, waited.
-
-He began by pounding with both fists on the door, but, not receiving any
-answer, he tried threats. An instinct seemed to tell him I would remain
-on guard.
-
-His language, I must confess, while threatening, was not abusive.
-It was, in fact, incredibly elegant for a burglar, and strictly
-grammatical.
-
-All at once there came a crash, followed by the creaking of heavy
-timber, and the door fell. Down he came on top of it, sprawling at my
-feet on the floor. I raised my gun and fired.
-
-"Hit him?" I interrupted.
-
-"No," replied Miss Gwynne; "here in the wall of the dining-room the
-bullet lodged, and is still there."
-
-The next thing I was conscious of was Mrs. Griffiths bending over me,
-and her husband's voice exclaiming:
-
-"He'd never have escaped if we had not left that door open when we came
-in. You see we got home just in time to hear you fire the gun, and as we
-ran in he ran out. Drat him!"
-
-I raised myself on my elbow and looked eagerly about.
-
-"He had no time to carry off a thing," said Mrs. Griffiths.
-
-* * * * *
-
-"I would like to set my eyes on him," I remarked, when Miss Gwynne
-had concluded her story. "You are a distinguished woman and are--I
-believe--the very first one who ever received an offer of marriage from
-a burglar."
-
-The lady smiled. "Do you not remember reading about the capture of
-a notorious bank robber, several years ago? The case created quite a
-sensation, owing partly to the difficulty in tracing the thief, who was
-clever enough to puzzle the most expert detectives and evade the police,
-and also to the respectability of his position. No one could believe him
-guilty."
-
-"Indeed I do remember it," I answered. "Not only that, but I _saw_ the
-man after he was in prison. I happened to be going through Chester Jail
-at the time and J------ was pointed out to me. He was quite
-distinguished looking. In fact, I did not believe him guilty."
-
-"Nor would I," said Miss Gwynne, "if I had not known."
-
-"You mean," I said, "that he----
-
-"I mean that you saw _my burglar_."
-
-[Illustration: 5305]
-
-[Illustration: 0306]
-
-[Illustration: 0307]
-
-[Illustration: 0308]
-
-
-
-
-THE LADY IN ROUGE, By W. E. P. French
-
-[Illustration: 9308]
-
-"Pretty woman! That's just like a man. Pretty chromo, you mean, Tom."
-
-"Well," in a hearty, pleasant voice, "maybe you are the better judge;
-but I don't believe she's 'made up,' and if I wasn't the most henpecked
-man on earth I'd say she was the loveliest creature I ever saw. As for
-her hair, it's----"
-
-"Blondined! And so utterly impossible in color that it couldn't for
-a moment fool anybody but a man," interrupted the first speaker, with
-deliciously spiteful emphasis on the very common noun man.
-
-"Eyebrows stencilled, eyelashes darkened; lips, ears and finger tips
-tinged with carmine--don't you know? Complexion enamel, vinegar rouge
-and brunette powder--pshaw! The way the men go on about her makes me
-positively ill. If you fall in love with her, Harry, you are no brother
-of mine. I don't care to be sister-in-law to a lithograph in _fast_
-colors."
-
-"You make me curious to see her, Nell, dear. By Jove, she must be either
-a monster or a paragon! Have the spirit of a man, Tom, and tell me
-which."
-
-"Don't try to extract any more information from me, old man; my teeth
-are positively chattering with terror. You can decide for yourself this
-evening, if your ferocious sister will allow you to leave your room. By
-the way," with an amused laugh, "what do you suppose Nell and the rest
-of her charitable sex up here have dubbed the poor girl? 'The lady in
-rouge!'"
-
-"Yes, and she ought to have a sign, 'Paint, don't touch.' I believe
-she is a divorcee or a widow, and I know she's thirty in spite of her
-sickening affectation of youth."
-
-"Oh, come, Nell, you are absolutely vicious. She is not a day over
-twenty, and she has the prettiest name I ever heard, Violante Solander;
-accent on the second syllable, Harry, not on the first, to rhyme with
-Hollander, as the bride of my bosom insists on pronouncing it."
-
-"Sounds like a combination of Spanish and Scandinavian," the younger man
-answers.
-
-"It is," returns his brother-in-law. "I have met her father several
-times at the Cosmos Club in Washington. He is a Norwegian, a wonderfully
-handsome man, of the purest blonde type, with charming old-time manners
-and a voice as deep and sonorous as a fine bell. Jack Kendricks, who
-knows him quite well, told me something of his history. As a young man
-he traveled pretty much all over the world, and in South America met and
-married Miss Viola's mother. She was an Ecuadorean of Spanish descent,
-and so beautiful that she was called, in reference to her name, which
-was the same as her daughter's, 'The Violet of Quito.' It is really a
-case of the Arctic zone wedding the Equator."
-
-"Or of a walrus committing matrimony with a llama. No wonder she is
-neither fish, flesh nor fowl," added madame, with a malicious emphasis
-that made both men laugh.
-
-This conversation floated up to me as I sat smoking my cigar on the
-forward edge of the hurricane deck of the little steamer that carried
-passengers from the railroad station at the foot of a beautiful and
-well-known lake in the Adirondacks to the village at the head of it,
-whither we were all bound.
-
-The party of three had crossed from the other side of the boat and Were
-leaning against the guards immediately under me. Later on I came to
-know them all well. The lady was a delightful little bundle of
-inconsistencies, sharp of tongue, quick of temper and jealous of all
-that belonged to her, but as generous as an Arab, very warm hearted,
-perfectly fearless and honest and a loyal friend when won. She was born
-Miss Eleanor Van Zandt, a family with a tree and traditions, pride,
-possessions and position; but the fact that she belonged in the top
-layer of the Four Hundred did not prevent her, some ten years before,
-refusing a scion of the English nobility (a very wealthy one, too, if
-you'll believe me), to her mother's Infinite disgust, and giving her
-dimpled little hand, where she had already given her heart, to
-big, kindly, genial Thomas Northrup, who was every inch a man and a
-gentleman, but who was third in direct descent (and gloried in it, too)
-from old John Northrup, saddle and harness maker, of whom I have heard
-it told by one that saw it that he died on his sixtieth birthday in
-the battle of Gettysburg, from some twenty bullet wounds received while
-carrying the colors of his regiment, and that his last words were:
-"Don't let the Johnnies get the flag!"
-
-I feel it to be my painful duty to relate that Madame Nell, when
-remonstrated with by her family upon the plebeian nature of the match
-she was about to make, flew into a violent rage and said she would
-gladly trade a baker's dozen of her eminently high and wellborn
-Knickerbocker ancestors for "that grand old saddler." The Van Zandt
-crest is a lion rampant gardant, and shortly after the wedding an aunt,
-who had declined to be present, received a spirited sketch of the family
-beast, leaning upon a musket in the position of parade rest, carrying a
-flag in his mouth and bearing upon his lordly back a monstrous saddle,
-the motto in the surrounding heraldic belt being, "Don't let the
-Johnnies get the flag!" This cheerful device was accompanied by a very
-deferential and affectionate note from the bride, asking her aunt if she
-did not think it a pretty way of combining the Northrup family (saddle)
-tree with the crest of the Van Zandts, or if she thought the "dear old
-lion" would appear to better advantage under a saddle that would conceal
-him entirely from the gaze of the vulgar herd.
-
-The old lady declined to receive Mrs. Northrup from that time until the
-day of her death, about four years later, but when her will was opened
-it was found that she had left $200,000 to her niece, Eleanor Van Zandt,
-"as a mark of respect for her truth, courage and _artistic ability_,"
-and $10,000 for a monument "to that gallant soldier and true gentleman,
-John Northrup, who died on the field of Gettysburg in the defense of his
-country's flag." Nell designed the monument, and every Decoration Day
-she puts a saddle made of flowers on the old lady's grave. But to my
-tale.
-
-Harry Van Zandt, at the time of which I write, was about twenty-six,
-tall, broad shouldered, athletic, brown as to eyes, hair, skin and
-pointed beard, an engineer and architect by profession, an advanced and
-liberal thinker for so young a man, full of high spirits, though with
-a depth and earnestness of purpose very refreshing in these days when
-selfish indifference is the rule, and altogether a manly, honorable,
-self reliant and energetic young fellow. He had charming manners,
-reverenced all women, rich or poor, proud or humble, and treated old
-people with an affectionate deference that won him many friends.
-
-The steamer had changed her course to the left rather sharply, heading
-for her wharf, when a Long Lake boat, with a woman at the sculls and
-a young man holding the tiller ropes, crossed our bow and floated by
-within fifteen feet of us. I did not need the quick, "There she is!
-Look, Harry!" from Mr. Northrup to know that it was Miss Solander. She
-had turned her head slightly toward them to bow, and the setting sun
-shone squarely in her face, making the wonderful amber hair seem
-a nimbus of golden light against the dark background of her huge
-Gainsborough hat.
-
-A more perfectly, harmoniously, radiantly beautiful girl I have
-never seen. Her coloring was simply marvelous, and I inclined to Mrs.
-Northrup's opinion that it must be artificial. It is impossible to give
-an adequate description of her--the wonderful child-woman. A face of
-rounded and exquisite contours, the skin of that warmest, richest,
-brunette type that is almost dusky; cheeks that had the soft, tender,
-velvety bloom of a sun-kissed peach; a charming mouth, scarlet as a
-flower, ripe, luscious, sensitive, ready to curve with sweet, swift
-laughter or to droop with grief. Her eyes, in the glimpse I had of her,
-I took to be black or a very dark brown, but later I found they were
-of that rare deep blue that becomes violet by an artificial light, and,
-indeed, owing to the length and thickness of the dark lashes, it was not
-easy at any time to determine their exact color, much less shade. Well,
-she was more nearly perfect than any other human thing I ever hope to
-see.
-
-               From her gold-flax curls' most marvelous shine,
-
-                   Down to her lithe and delicate feet,
-
-               There was not a curve nor a waving line
-
-                   But moved in a harmony firm and sweet.
-
-As she passed from view I looked down at the trio below me. Mrs.
-Northrup was regarding her brother curiously, and I don't think either
-she or I was at all surprised when he turned, his face aglow with
-enthusiasm, and said: "What a lovely girl!" Then, with quick change of
-tone, "Who is that man with her?"
-
-"Lovely as a Prang," remarked my lady, dryly. "The man is your hated
-rival, of whom you are already madly jealous. He is young, beautiful
-and rich, dances divinely, speaks _real_ English and has very nearly
-a tablespoonful of brains--not that he needs such a preponderance of
-brain, for he has enough money to make a social success of a
-jibbering idiot. His name is Francis Floyd-Jones, but we speak of him
-affectionately as 'Fluggeon,' and those that know him best sometimes
-lovingly refer to him as 'Balaam's Ass'--but you'll like him, Harry."
-
-Van Zandt's reply I did not hear, as I discreetly moved away; but
-I heard both men laugh, and I joined them heartily when at a safe
-distance.
-
-When we landed I found we were all bound for the same hotel, a capital
-one, named for and kept by one of a famous hotel-keeping family. The
-Northrups' little girl, a madcap child of six, was on the lawn waiting
-the return of her parents and the arrival of her uncle, of whom she was
-evidently very fond, although she abandoned him speedily in order to hug
-and kiss his superb Irish setter, Blarney, who licked the small imp's
-face calmly and appeared in his grave dog's way genuinely glad to see
-her.
-
-Ethel, as I found out in a day or two, had taken one of those intense
-fancies that children do occasionally to almost entire strangers to "the
-lady in rouge," and would escape to her whenever chance permitted. Poor
-Mrs. Northrup! Her ranks were deserters to the enemy. Her husband openly
-admired the gorgeously-tinted girl, her child simply worshipped her, her
-brother had palpably fallen in love at first sight, and, when we came
-out from dinner, it was found that Blarney had dumbly sworn allegiance
-to the violet of two zones and could with difficulty be induced to leave
-her. The dog's infatuation was put to-practical service by his master
-during the next few weeks, for that astute young gentleman, when unable
-to discover the whereabouts of his idol by peering and prowling, would
-take one of Blarney's silky ears in his hand and whisper, "Go, find
-her, boy," which the clever animal promptly proceeded to do, usually
-successfully, though often the search would receive a check on the edge
-of the lake and be resumed after a run of a mile on the island.
-
-Madame Nell and I soon discovered that we had a host of common friends
-in New York and Washington, and that an uncle on her mother's side (poor
-Dick Whitney, who was lost on the _Ville de Havre_) had been a classmate
-of mine at Harvard forty odd years before. These kindly young people
-were as good and affectionate to me as though I had been a relative, and
-the heart of a lonely old man went out to them gratefully and lovingly.
-
-By the way, I am tempted to repeat a compliment that I overheard toward
-the end of the summer, because it was the pleasantest and heartiest I
-ever had paid to me, or rather about me. Charge it to the garrulity of
-age or simple conceit, but here it is:
-
-I came up behind them one dark night on the piazza, just as Mrs.
-Northrop turned to her husband and said: "Do you know, Tom, dear, I
-think Dr. Zobel is the very nicest old man I ever knew; he has the head
-of a sage and the fresh, pure heart of a little child."
-
-[Illustration: 0316]
-
-There was a hop that first evening in the large drawing room of the
-hotel, and a little while before the music began I wandered in to find
-three or four small groups talking and laughing, among them Van Zandt
-and his sister. She made room for me on the sofa, and said I should be
-her attendant cavalier, as she did not intend to dance. We chatted a
-bit and then madame began a running commentary on the people as they
-entered.
-
-"The Robinsons--papa, mamma and daughter. Papa looketh upon the wine
-when it is red. Mamma is a devout Catholic. Daughter openly defies both
-parents and, I am convinced, hath a devil. I have ventured to rename
-them 'Rum, Romanism and Rebellion.'"
-
-"What De Quincy would call 'an overt act of alliteration,' Nell," said
-Van Zandt, and added: "Who is the imposing-looking old girl leading the
-small, meek man?"
-
-"Where? Oh! of course. The lion and the lamb. Mrs. Colter is literary,
-writes things, reads Browning understanding (happy woman!), quotes Greek
-to people that never harmed her, and herds the lamb, who never has
-any capers in his sauce, and who is, I am told, her third matrimonial
-venture."
-
-"A fulfillness of prophecy," murmured Harry, "'And the lion and the lamb
-shall lie down together.'"
-
-"Harry, you are incorrigible. The young man of peculiarly unwholesome
-appearance who has just sneaked in is, I am morally certain, Uriah Heep,
-though he says his name is Penrose. That [as a handsome old lady of
-large proportions came into the room] is Miss Eldridge. She is very
-nice, but is omnipresent, so we call her 'The Almighty,' Her escort
-is Mr. Hinton; he is the biggest, jolliest and--except my Tom--the
-bestnatured man here. Everyone calls him 'Jumbo' or 'Billy' Look out for
-him, Buz; he is another rival and determined to have the chromo at any
-price. There she is with 'Buttons' in tow, and the disconsolate 'Wafer'
-vainly endeavoring to console himself with his divinity's aunt."
-
-The young gentlemen were aptly named. The first, a handsome young West
-Pointer on furlough, in all the glory of cadet gray and a multitude of
-bell buttons; the other, a pleasant-faced fellow, surprisingly tall and
-thin. Nell had introduced Van Zandt and me to Miss Solander and her
-aunt shortly after dinner, and I had had a very pleasant chat with
-the stately, whitehaired old lady, who was so proud and fond of her
-exquisite niece. She was Mr. Solander's sister and the widow of Captain
-Dupont of the French Navy.
-
-Several friends of Mrs. Northrup joined her, and Van Zandt excused
-himself and went to make one of the little group of men around Miss
-Solander, followed by a parting injunction from his sister to remember
-that benzine would remove paint spots if applied while they were fresh.
-
-Beautiful as this flower-faced girl was at all times, by lamp light and
-in evening dress she was lovely beyond all power of words to express,
-and as I came to know her I found that her beauty was not alone in her
-superb coloring, in the perfect lines of her face and figure or in her
-exuberant health, but was in her life; for she was--and is--that rare,
-sweet thing, a womanly woman, brave, strong, gentle, generous, pure of
-heart and clean of thought, a lover of truth, a hater of meanness, with
-a mind broadened by travel and burnished by attrition; and she carried,
-moreover, a cloak of charity of such wide and ample fold that it fell
-lovingly over even the follies and frailties of those weaker ones of her
-own sex and was proof against the arrows of envy.
-
-With old people and children she was a great favorite; the men were her
-enthusiastic admirers, and a good half dozen of them were helplessly,
-hopelessly, over head and ears in love with her; but a number of the
-young married women and girls professed strong disapproval of her,
-on similar grounds to those outlined by Mrs. Northrup on the steamer,
-though I had my private suspicions that, in some cases at least, they
-were a trifle jealous of the attention she received from the men, who,
-as is generally the case at summer resorts, were not overabundant. Mrs.
-Northrup's dislike was an honest one, for she firmly believed the girl
-was artificial, and having carefully avoided an intimacy knew but little
-of the lovely nature and bright mind that no one was better fitted to
-appreciated than she.
-
-Besides, Madame Nell was a born matchmaker and wanted her adored
-brother to marry her particular friend and crony, Miss Carrie Belmont,
-a brighteyed, keen-witted, merry little soul, who took nothing seriously
-except medicine and had about as much fixedness of purpose as a
-month-old kitten. To a man like Van Zandt, who needed both the curb and
-spur of a mentality as strong and earnest as his own, she would have
-been about as valuable a helpmeet as was poor little Dora to David
-Copperfield. But Nell was fond of the pretty, clever little creature,
-felt sure (as our mothers and sisters, God bless 'em! always do) that
-her brother was thoroughly incapable of picking out the right kind of
-a wife, and weeks before he came had perceived in Miss Solander's
-marvelous loveliness a dangerous and powerful factor in the personal
-equations she wished to make equal to each other, so that by the
-transposition of matrimony they should become one.
-
-Of course this knowledge came to me gradually; but even that first
-evening, as Van Zandt and Miss Solander passed near us in the waltz, I
-could see that he was wonderfully taken with his fair partner. For the
-next few days he was more or less the victim of some little sisterly
-traps that were set with great tact and amused Northrup and me
-immensely. Then my young gentleman escaped and made great running,
-distancing "Buttons," "The Wafer," "Balaam's Ass," and the rest of what
-Nell called the "fry," and crowding Hinton closely for what each felt
-was his life's race for a prize that might be for neither of them. They
-were a nice, manly, generous pair of rivals, and I never saw either take
-an unfair advantage of the other. I remember one day I was fishing,
-when they both rushed down to their boats and started for the island
-at racing stroke. Just as they were abreast of me Van Zandt, who was
-leading, broke a rowlock, and Hinton forged ahead; but the moment he saw
-what had occurred he backed water, tossed Harry an extra rowlock, waited
-until he had put it in, and then away they went again.
-
-Which was the favored one it was for some time difficult to decide, as
-the girl was evidently used to a great deal of attention, and accepted
-it gracefully and even gratefully; but yet somehow as though it was a
-matter of course. She took many things as matters of course, by the way,
-among others her beauty, of which she was as little vain as a flower
-is of its color or perfume, and she labored under the pleasant delusion
-that men liked her simply because she could dance and ride and row and
-shoot and play tennis. There was another thing she played beside tennis,
-and that was the banjo, and it seemed to me that her rich, flexible
-contralto, the liquid tingle of the banjo and the Spanish words of the
-song she loved best to sing, made a harmony as soft and sweet as the
-fragrant, moonlit nights of her Southern home.
-
-Until I read the generous and intelligent praise of the banjo by the
-gifted pen of America's greatest writer of romance, I had been rather
-diffident of expressing my liking for this charming instrument, partly
-because it was rather impressed upon me by my parents, who were a little
-tinged with Puritanism, that it was low, and partly because a musical
-friend, whose opinion in matters harmonic I always deferred to, disliked
-it; but, under the rose, I thought it delicious, and many years ago I
-used to wander pretty often to a beer garden in New York, where an old
-darky named Horace touched the strings with a master's hand and drew
-from them the half sad, half merry, but wholly sweet melodies of his
-child-hearted race, which always struck some responsive chord in me that
-no other music ever did.
-
-There was a good deal of musical talent in the three hotels that
-summer. Miss Solander, Miss Belmont, Hinton and Van Zandt were a capital
-quartet; Mrs. Robinson was an accomplished pianist and accompanist;
-a young girl from Troy sang Irish songs to a zither delightfully;
-"Buttons" gave us the lays of West Point, and "Balaam's Ass," as Mrs.
-Northrup expressed it, "really brayed very melodiously."
-
-Van Zandt had one decided advantage over the other men in his wooing,
-for he had brought his own saddle horse with him, and as Miss Solander
-had hers, a beautiful and very fast bay mare, and was an enthusiastic
-horsewoman, riding nearly every day, wet or dry, he frequently managed
-to be her escort.
-
-They asked me to go with them one morning for a long ride through the
-mountains, and as it was not impossible that we might see a deer or some
-birds Miss Viola took her repeating shotgun, a pretty and close-shooting
-little weapon with which she was very expert, and Van Zandt and I our
-Stevens rifles.
-
-My mount was the best to be had in the village, and was a strong, slow
-animal, intended by nature to grace a plow.
-
-It was a grand day, crisp and clear, and the first level stretch of road
-we came to my young companions decided to have a race. Away they went,
-Blarney and I at an increasing interval behind them. At a turn in the
-road, about a quarter of a mile ahead, Harry's big gray was leading
-the mare by a good length, and when they rejoined me Miss Solander
-acknowledged her defeat handsomely, but put in a saving clause for her
-pet by adding, "She runs her best when frightened. I don't think even
-your splendid gray could catch her if we saw a bear."
-
-Harry laughed pleasantly, said he imagined his horse, too, might develop
-unexpected speed under such circumstances, and we cantered on. A little
-before noon we left the main road and struck into a bridle path that
-led through a dense pine forest, utterly impassable by reason of fallen
-trees and underbush, except on the narrow trail. We had not gone
-far when our way seemed barred by a huge dead pine that had fallen
-slantingly across the path and rested on a great boulder on the other
-side. It was too high to jump near the roots without great danger and
-the triangular opening by the rock did not look high enough for a horse
-to go through. However, we dismounted and managed to get the animals
-through, though there was very little room to spare.
-
-In about half a mile we came to the edge of the wood, and the trail
-widened out to ten or twelve feet, bordered by a dense second growth
-of ash. Perhaps a thousand yards farther on Blarney became excited over
-some fresh tracks in the sandy soil, which we found were those of a deer
-that had passed only a few minutes before, as was shown by a clump of
-fern that was slowly straightening its crushed and bent fronds by the
-side of the narrow road. Miss Solander and I halted, while Harry
-rode quietly on ahead after Blarney, who was acting rather queerly, I
-thought, following the deer track for a few feet, then pausing, with
-nose in the air and bristling back, to snuff the air and growl. Van
-Zandt spoke to him, and the dog went steadily and slowly forward. He was
-a clever beast and the only setter I ever saw that could hunt all
-kinds of game well. Miss Solander promptly emptied the magazine of her
-shotgun, and refilled it with wire cartridges loaded with "buck and
-ball."
-
-I was watching Van Zandt, who was a few hundred feet away, when there
-was a crashing noise in the brush, and midway between him and us a
-good-sized black bear stepped out on the trail. My horse made a buck
-jump that nearly unseated me and backed half his length into the bush.
-Bang! Bang! went Miss Viola's gun. The bear stumbled, gave a roar of
-pain and rage, and started for us. The mare plunged wildly, wheeled
-about sharply and flew back by the way we came. The brute I rode was
-paralyzed with terror and I could not budge him, nor did I dare to shoot
-for fear of hitting Van Zandt, and my position of course kept his rifle
-silent. But he took in the situation at a glance, fired in the air, gave
-a yell that a panther might have envied, and came toward us at a gallop.
-
-[Illustration: 0326]
-
-The bear turned to look at this new enemy, and rose promptly on his
-hind legs to receive him. I saw the gray swerve slightly, heard a savage
-"Jump, ------ you!" from Van Zandt, saw his spurs go home, and then the
-great horse rise to the leap and skim over the bear in a splendid arch.
-Blarney, who was just behind his master, was not so fortunate. He lit
-fairly on the bear, and was sadly scratched and bitten before he got
-away. Van Zandt shouted, "I must catch her before she gets to the fallen
-tree!" and went by me like a whirlwind. It was not much over a mile, she
-had a hundred yards and more the start of him, and the mare was going
-like the wind. I fired a shot as soon as the gray passed me, and the
-report seemed to rouse my horse, who, oblivious to spur and voice, had
-cowered shivering in the brush, for he shook himself, snorted, took
-a last look at the bear, which was preparing to join the procession,
-turned tail and fled, developing speed of which I would not have
-believed him capable.
-
-It was a horrible ride, not on account of the bear, which might have
-been a mouse for all the thought I gave it, but because there, ahead of
-me, in that narrow road, a beautiful girl, just blossoming into splendid
-womanhood, was rushing to an awful, ghastly death, and a few cruel yards
-behind her the man that loved her and would so gladly have given his
-life for hers. Oh, how my heart ached for him, and how I wished the old
-man that was third in that terrible race might die instead of that sweet
-child-woman! Could he overtake her? He was spurring fiercely and the
-gray was doing his best; but though the gap between them was closing,
-it was closing slowly--and we had entered the wood. Yes, he was surely
-gaining now, sixty feet more and he would have her. But there was the
-tree, and he couldn't reach her in time. I covered my eyes with my hands
-and turned sick and faint. Then came back to me in a man's voice grown
-shrill with agony, one word, and following it crash! crash! in rapid
-succession, and again the sound of the hurrying hoof beats.
-
-I opened my eyes. Was I blinded by my tears? There were no dreadful
-bundles under the tree. Then that word, with its fierce, imperious note
-of command, which had conveyed no meaning to me in that first awful
-moment, came through the porch of the outer ear, where it had lingered,
-into the brain, and I understood--"Jump!" He had taken the one chance
-left to them at the last moment, shrieked his order at her, and she
-had obeyed, lifting her mare to a leap that looked impossible. He had
-followed her, and they had cleared it safely, for I could see their
-heads over the fallen trunk. I checked my horse, dismounted, led him
-through the opening and galloped on again.
-
-In a few moments I had the pleasure of seeing the gray range up
-alongside of the mare and Van Zandt seize her bridle. I joined them and
-found they were sound in life and limb. Harry was standing by the mare's
-head, quieting her, and somehow he had gotten possession of a little
-gauntleted hand and was looking at the girl with a world of love in his
-fine eyes. She was quite pale, but her face was steadfast and strong,
-and in it as she met Van Zandt's look frankly was the dawning of
-something that she was unaware of yet, something that, if she lived
-would crown her lover's life with happiness "sweet beyond compare"--and
-my old heart was glad for them both.
-
-Neither Blarney nor the bear was in sight, and as I had hung on to my
-rifle half unconsciously I proposed going back to look for the dog, but
-they insisted on accompanying me, and Miss Solander showed her own gun
-in its carbine holster with the flap buttoned. I tell you it took nerve
-for a girl on a runaway horse to do that bit of work. Well, we went
-cautiously back, Van Zandt holding a strap fastened to the mare's
-bridle, and I on ahead. Nothing in sight until we got out of the wood
-and had made a slight turn. Then we saw Blarney, very ragged and bloody,
-but with an air of proud ownership, sniffing around the dead body of
-the bear. We had some trouble in bringing up the horses, but managed it
-finally.
-
-Everyone seemed to feel after that that Van Zandt would win and wear
-the violet. Even Mrs. Northrup was preparing to bow gracefully to
-the inevitable, when Ethel came on the scene in the role of "enfante
-terrible" and spoke her little piece.
-
-It was a lovely summer afternoon. The next day, Monday, was Miss Viola's
-twenty-first birthday; her father was to arrive by the evening boat,
-and several of the young men had planned rowing and sailing races in her
-honor. Mr. and Mrs. Northrup, Miss Belmont, Hinton and I were chatting
-in a little summer house just by the edge of the lake, and a few feet
-away, Viola, Harry and Ethel were skipping flat stones over the water.
-In a pause in our talk, which had been of Byron, just after someone had
-quoted:
-
-                   She was his life,
-
-                   The ocean to the river of his thoughts,
-
-                   Which terminated all,
-
-We were all looking at the trio outside and speculating probably upon
-the future of two of them, when we saw Ethel seize Miss Solander's hand,
-look up at her adoringly, and heard her say, in her childish pipes:
-"You're so pretty! Why does mamma called you 'the colored lady?' You're
-not a nigger, are you?"
-
-The girl flushed painfully, but stooped, kissed the child and, looking
-straight at Mrs. Northrup, said very gently: "No, dear; and if mamma
-knew me better she would not think I was colored." Then she turned,
-bowed slightly and walked rapidly up the beach. Nell burst into tears,
-Van Zandt muttered something that didn't sound like a prayer and tore
-after his lady love. Northrup was so startled and angry that, instead of
-comforting his wife, he gave her a little shake and exploded with: "It's
-too ----- ---------- bad! A nice mess you and the brat have made of
-things!" Then, as the ludicrous side of the affair appealed to his
-fun-loving nature: "To save time, I'll spank Ethel while you roll out the
-crust of a nice, re: "To save time, I'll spank Ethel while you roll out
-the crust of a nice, big humble pie."
-
-Hinton and Miss Belmont slunk off, and I was preparing to follow them,
-when the unhappy little woman sobbed out, "Oh, Doctor, please, please
-don't go! Stay and tell me what to do. Tom's so nasty--if you laugh, Tom
-dear, I'll kill you." So I stayed, and while we were consulting what was
-best to do Van Zandt came quietly into the summer house, his face and
-tightly-closed lips ashen, and his eyes the eyes of a strong man
-in pain. Nell rushed at him, exclaiming: "My poor Harry, my darling
-brother! I am so sorry; try to forgive me!"
-
-He put her away from him with no show of anger, but very coldly, and
-then, very evenly and in an emotionless, mechanical sort of way, he
-said: "I have asked Miss Solander to be my wife. She refused me. I hope
-you are satisfied. I give you my word of honor that I will never forgive
-you, nor speak to you, until she accepts your apology and my love--and
-that will be never," he added, heavily, and half under his breath. There
-was no doubt that he meant it and would stick to it, and his sister,
-who knew he never broke his word, after one appealing look at him, threw
-herself in her husband's arms and sobbed miserably. I followed the boy
-and took an old man's privilege. He listened patiently and thanked me
-affectionately, but it was of no use. Then I tried to find Miss Viola,
-and came across Nell on the same quest; but no one saw her until the
-next afternoon.
-
-Monday was cloudy and windy, a real gray day. The races were to begin
-at 3 o'clock, and the entire community was gathered on the shore of the
-lake. Both Miss Solander and Van Zandt were entered, and I knew their
-pride would make them show up. The first race was for ladies in Long
-Lake boats over a half mile course and return, six entries, a handicap
-of one hundred yards on Miss Solander and fifty on Mrs. Claggett. Viola
-beat it handsomely and then rowed directly across to the island, where
-she would have a good view of the sailing race, though I think her
-object was more to escape the crowd.
-
-[Illustration: 0332]
-
-After an interval of a few minutes three canoes, manned by Hinton, Van
-Zandt and another man, came up to the starter's boat.
-
-The canoes got away together, Van Zandt to leeward. They had gone
-perhaps a quarter of a mile when a squall from the opposite shore struck
-them, and the canoe with the violet pennant (Harry's) went over like a
-flash, the other two, with loose sheets, running before the wind. Mrs.
-Northrup screamed, and so did several other women; but Van Zandt was a
-capital swimmer, and I expected every moment to see him on the bottom of
-the canoe.
-
-Half a dozen men started in rowboats, but one shot out from the island
-and fairly flew for the capsized craft. It was Viola, and we saw her,
-when she reached her goal, stand up, shake off her outer skirts and
-dive. I had a powerful glass, and when she came up I saw she had him and
-was trying to reach her boat, which was drifting away. She gave that
-up and struggled toward the canoe. They went down, and then the rescue
-boats hid them. It seemed an eternity before two boats pulled swiftly
-toward us. In the first was Van Zandt, a nasty cut on his head and
-unconscious, but breathing faintly. In the next, held in the arms of
-poor "Buttons," whose tears were dropping on her lovely white face, was
-the sweet child-woman, all the wonderful rose tints gone from lip and
-cheek and in its place the sad, cold hue of death. There was no sign of
-vitality, and I was hopeless from the first; but we were still working
-over her when the steamer came in, and the next thing we knew there was
-a heart-broken cry and her father had her in his arms.
-
-Was it the bitter agony and yearning love in that strong man's cry that
-called back the fleeing life, or was it the sudden jar of lifting her
-and the fierce clasp of her father's arms that started the stilled
-lungs? I do not know; but, physician though I am, I incline to the
-former solution. Whatever may have been the cause there was a faint
-flutter in pulse and breast, and we renewed our efforts. In half an
-hour she was breathing softly and the color was coming back to her
-bonny face. Her father carried her up to the hotel and her aunt and Mrs.
-Northrup got her to bed. She recovered rapidly, but Van Zandt was pretty
-ill for about a week, and positively refused to see his sister.
-
-Well, I suppose it was officious and meddlesome in me, but one day when
-I knew where Violante was I took Nell's hand in my arm and brought them
-together. In a few minutes they were crying over each other in real
-womanly fashion, and I prowled off. In about ten minutes little Nell,
-her eyes shining with happiness, hunted me up and said, "I want you to
-take me to Harry." She showed me in her hand a beautiful and curious
-ring, which I knew was the engagement ring of Miss Viola's mother.
-Harry was sitting in an easy chair, with his back to the door, when we
-entered, and, without turning his head, he asked, "Is that you, Doctor?"
-
-I answered him, and then Nell stole up behind him, dropped the great
-ruby in his lap, and whispered, with a sob in her voice, "With my
-dear sister Violante's love." Harry looked at the ring stupidly for an
-instant, then Nell came around in front of him, and he pulled her down
-into his arms without a word. And I stole away with wet eyes and a
-glad heart, and told the news to Tom and Carrie and that prince of good
-fellows, "Jumbo" Hinton.
-
-That is about all. Mr. Solander gave his consent and something more
-substantial, and two months later I went to the wedding of "The Lady in
-Rouge."
-
-[Illustration: 0335]
-
-[Illustration: 0336]
-
-
-
-
-THE BREAKING OF WINTER, By Patience Stapleton
-
-
-|That's the fust funerel I've went to sence I was a gal, but that I
-drove to the graveyard."
-
-"I dunno as that done the corp enny good."
-
-"An' seems all to onc't I miss old Tige," muttered the first speaker
-half to herself.
-
-It was snowing now, a fine mist sifting down on deep-drifted stone-walls
-and hard, shining roads, and the tinkle of sleigh-bells, as a far-away
-black line wound over the hill to the bleak graveyard, sounded musical
-and sweet in the muffled air. Two black figures in the dazzling white
-landscape left the traveled road and ploughed heavily along a lane
-leading to a grove of maples, cold and naked in the winter scene.
-
-"They say Ann Kirk left a good prop'ty," said the first speaker, a woman
-of fifty, with sharp black eyes, red cheeks, few wrinkles and fewer gray
-hairs in the black waves under her pumpkin hood. She pulled her worn
-fur cape around her neck and took a new grasp on her shawl, pinning it
-tight. "Ann an' me used to take a sight of comfort driving old Tige."
-
-The man, her companion, grunted and went sturdily ahead. He was
-enveloped in a big overcoat, a scarf wound around his neck and a
-moth-eaten fur cap pulled down over his ears. His blue eyes were watery
-from the cold, his nose and chin peaked and purple, and frost clung to
-the short gray beard about his mouth.
-
-"Who'll git the prop'ty?" panted the woman. She held her gown up in
-front, disclosing a pair of blue socks drawn over her shoes.
-
-"Relashuns, I s'pose."
-
-"She was alius so savin', keepin' drip-pins for fryin', and sfellin'
-nearly every mite of butter they made; an' I've heered the Boston
-relashuns was extravagant. Her sister hed on a black silk to the funerel
-to ride to the grave in; I guess they are well-to-do."
-
-"Dunno," gruffly.
-
-Somehow then the woman remembered that glossy silk, and that she had
-never had one. Then this sister's husband, how attentive he was leading
-his wife out to the sleigh, and she had seen them walking arm-in-arm
-the past summer, when no man in Corinth ever offered his arm to his wife
-unless it were to a funeral and they were first mourners. "Silas never
-give me his arm but the fust Sunday we were merried," she thought;
-"bein' kind to wimmen wan't never the Loweirs way." A sharp pain in her
-side made her catch her breath and stop a moment, but the man paid no
-heed to her distress. At the end of a meadow on a little rise looking
-down a long, shady lane, stood a gray old farm-house, to which age had
-given picturesqueness and beauty, and here Maria Lowell had lived the
-thirty years of her married life. She unlocked the door and went into
-the cold kitchen where the fire had died down. A lean cat came purring
-from under the table, and the old clock seemed to tick more cheerily now
-the mistress had returned.
-
-"A buryin' on Christmas Eve, the minister said, and how sad it were,
-and I felt like tellin' him Ann an' me never knowed Christmas from enny
-other day, even to vittles, for turkeys fetched better prices then, an'
-we sold ourn." She went into a frozen bedroom, for Corinth folks would
-have thought a man crazy to have a fire in a sleeping-room except in
-sickness; she folded her shawl and cape and laid them carefully on the
-feather bed, covered with its gay quilt, the fruit of her lonely hours.
-Mechanically she set about getting supper, stirring the fire, putting a
-pan of soda biscuits in to bake, and setting a dish of dried-apple sauce
-and a plate of ginger cookies on the table. "Berried on Chrismus Eve,
-but little she ever thought of it, nor me, and little of it Jimmy hed
-here to home."
-
-She looked at her biscuits, slammed the oven door, glanced cautiously
-around to see if Silas, who had gone to milk the cow, were coming; then
-drawing her thin lips tighter, went back into the cold bedroom. With
-ruthless hand tearing open an old wound, she unlocked a drawer in
-the old mahogany bureau and took out something rolled in a
-handkerchief--only a tiny vase, blue and gilt, woefully cheap, laughed
-at by the cultured, scorned by the children of today. She held it
-tenderly in her cold hand and brought back the memory that would never
-die. It was years and years ago in that very room, and a little child
-came in holding one chubby hand behind him, and he looked at her
-with her own bright eyes under his curly hair. "Muver, Jimmy's got a
-s'prise." She remembered she told him crossly to go out of the cold room
-and not bother her. She remembered, too, that his lip quivered, the lip
-that had yet the baby curve. "It was a present, muver, like the minister
-sed. I got candy on the tree, but you didn't git nawthin', and I buyed
-you this with my berry money." The poor little vase in that warm chubby
-hand--ay, she forgot nothing now; she told him he was silly to spend
-good money on trash, and flung the vase aside, but that grieved childish
-face came back always. Ah, it would never fade away, it had returned
-for a quarter of a century. "I never was used to young ones," she
-said aloud, "nor kindness," but that would not heal the wound; no
-self-apology could. She went hurriedly to the kitchen, for Silas was
-stamping the snow off his feet in the entry.
-
-"I got fifty dollars for old Tige," he said, as he poured his tea into
-his saucer to cool; "he was wuth it, the honest old creetur!"
-
-The little black-eyed woman did not answer; she only tightened her lips.
-Over the mantel where the open fireplace had been bricked up, was a
-picture in a narrow black frame, a colored print of Washington on a fine
-white horse, and maidens strewing flowers in his pathway.
-
-"When Tige was feelin' good," continued Silas, "he'd a monstrous likeness
-to thet hoss in the pictur, monstrous! held his hed high an' pranced;
-done you good to see him in Bath when them hosses tried to parss him;
-you'd a thort he was a four-year-old! chock full of pride. The hackman
-sed he was a good 'un, but run down; I don't 'low to overfeed stock when
-they ain't wurkin'."
-
-"Ourn has the name of bein' half starved," muttered the woman.
-
-Silas looked at her in some surprise. "I ginerelly gits good prices for
-'em all the same."
-
-"We ginerelly overreach every one!"
-
-"Goin' to Ann's funerel hez sorter upset ye, M'ri. Lord, how old Tige
-would cavort when Jim would ride him; throw out his heels like a colt.
-I never told the hackman Tige was eighteen year old. I ain't over
-pertikler in a hoss trade, like everybody else. He wun't last long I
-calc'late now, for them hack horses is used hard, standin' out late
-nights in the cold an'----"
-
-"Was the Wilkins place sold out ter-day?" said the woman hastily, with
-agonizing impatience to divert his thoughts to something else.
-
-"Yes, it were," chuckled Silas, handing his cup for more tea, "an'
-they'll have ter move ter Bosting. You was ginning me for bein' mean,
-how'd you like to be turned outer doors? Ef I do say it, there ain't no
-money due on my prop'ty, nor never was."
-
-"Who air you savin' it fur?" said Maria, quietly. She sat with downcast
-eyes tapping her spoon idly on her saucer; she had eaten nothing.
-
-"Fur myself," he growled, pushing his chair back. He lit a pipe and
-began to smoke, his feet at the oven door.
-
-Outside it was quite dark, snow and night falling together in a dense
-black pall. Over the lonely roads drifted the snow, and no footfall
-marred it. Through drear, silent forests it sifted, sifted down, clung
-to cheery evergreens, and clasped shining summer trees that had no
-thought for winter woes; it was heaped high over the glazed brooks that
-sang, deep down, songs of summer time and gladness, like happy, good old
-folks whose hearts are ever young and joyous. Over the wide Kennebec, in
-the line of blue the ferry-boat kept open, the flakes dropped, dropped
-and made no blurr, like the cellar builders of temples and palaces,
-the rank and file, the millions of good, unknown dead, unmentioned in
-history or the Bible. The waves seething in the confined path crackled
-the false ice around the edges, leaped upon it in miniature breakers,
-and swirled far underneath with hoarse murmur. In the dark water
-something dark rose and fell with the tide. Was there a human being
-drifting to death in the icy sea? The speck made no outcry; it battled
-nobly with nature's mighty force. Surely and slowly the high wharfs and
-the lights of Bath faded; nearer grew the woods of Corinth, the ferry
-landing and the tavern-keeper's lamp.
-
-"I heered suthin' on the ferry slip," said a little old man in the
-tavern, holding his hand behind his ear.
-
-"Nawthin', night's too black," said the tavern-keeper; "you're alius a
-hearin' what no one else do, Beaman."
-
-No star nor human eye had seen the black speck on the wild water, and no
-hand lent it aid to land.
-
-In ugly silence Silas smoked his pipe, while equally still, Maria washed
-the dishes. She stepped to throw the dish-water outside the door and
-then she heard a sound. The night was so quiet a noise traveled miles.
-What was it, that steady smothered thud up the lane where so seldom a
-stranger came? Was it only the beating of her heart after all? She shut
-the door behind her and hurried out, wrapping her wet cold hands in her
-apron. Suddenly there came a long, joyful neigh!
-
-"How on airth did that critter git home?" cried Silas, jumping to his
-feet.
-
-Nearer, nearer, in a grand gallop, with tense muscles and quivering
-limbs, with upraised head and flying mane, with eager eyes, nearer, in
-great leaps thrusting time and distance far behind, came that apparition
-of the night.
-
-"Oh, my God!" cried the woman wildly, "old Tige has come home--come home
-to this place, and there is one living thing that loves it!"
-
-The light flared out from the open door. "How on airth did he git across
-the river?" said Silas, querulously. "An' how am I goin' to git him back
-in this weather?"
-
-There he stood, the noble old horse that her boy had raised from a colt,
-had ridden, had given to her when he went away. "Mother," her boy had
-said, "be good to old Tige. If ever father wants to sell him, don't you
-let him. I'd come back from my grave if the old horse was abused--the
-only thing I loved, that loved me in this place I cannot call a home.
-Remember he has been so faithful."
-
-Ay, he had been faithful, in long, hot summer days, in wide, weary
-fields, in breaking the stony soil for others' harvest, in bringing wood
-from the far forest, in every way of burden and work.
-
-He stood quivering with cold, covered with ice, panting after his wild
-gallop; but he was home, poor brute mind! That old farm was his home: he
-had frolicked in its green fields as a colt, had carried a merryvoiced
-young master, had worked and rested in that old place; he might be
-ill-treated and starved, he did not grieve, he did not question, for it
-was home! He could not understand why this time the old master had not
-taken him away; never before had he been left in Bath. In his brute way
-he reasoned he had been forgotten, and when his chance came, leaped from
-the barn, running as horse never ran before, plunged off the wharf into
-the black waves, swam across and galloped to his home.
-
-"If there is a God in Heaven, that horse shall not go back!" cried the
-woman fiercely; "if you take him from here again it shall be over my
-dead body! Ay, you may well look feared; for thirty years I have frozen
-my heart, even to my own son, and now the end's come. It needed that
-faithful brute to teach me; it needed that one poor creature that loved
-me and this place, to open the flood-gates. Let me pass, and I warn you
-to keep away from me. Women go mad in this lonely, starved life. Ay, you
-are a man, but I am stronger now than you ever were. I've been taught
-all my life to mind men, to be driven by them, and to-night is a rising
-of the weak. Put me in the asylum, as other wives are, but tonight my
-boy's horse shall be treated as never before."
-
-"But M'ri," he said, trembling, "there, there now, let me git the
-lantern, you're white as a sheet! We'll keep him if you say so; why
-hadn't you told me afore?"
-
-She flung him aside, lit the lantern and then ran up to an attic chamber
-under the eaves. "M'ri, you hain't goin' to kill yourself?" he quavered,
-waiting at the foot of the stairs. She was back in a moment, her arms
-full of blankets.
-
-"What on airth!"
-
-"Let me alone, Silas Lowell, these were my weddin' blankets. I've saved
-'em thirty years in the cedar chist for this. They was too good for you
-and me; they air too poor fur my boy's horse."
-
-"But there's a good hoss blanket in the barn."
-
-"The law don't give you these; it mebbe gives you me, but these is
-mine."
-
-She flung by him, and he heard the barn door rattle back. He put on his
-coat and went miserably after her, "M'ri, here's yer shawl, you'll git
-yer death." The barn lit by the lantern revealed two astonished oxen,
-a mild-eyed cow, a line of hens roosting on an old hayrack and Maria
-rubbing the frozen sides of the white horse. "Put yer shawl on, M'ri,
-you'll git yer death."
-
-"An' you'd lose my work, eh? Leave me, I say, I'm burning up; I never
-will be cold till I'm dead. I can die! there is death 'lowed us poor
-critters, an' coffins to pay fur, and grave lots."
-
-Silas picked up a piece of flannel and began to rub the horse. In
-ghastly quiet the two worked, the man patching the woman, and looking
-timorously at the axe in the corner. One woman in the neighborhood,
-living on a cross-road where no one ever came, had gone mad and
-jnur-dered her husband, but "M'ri" had always been so clear-headed! Then
-the woman went and began piling hay in the empty stall.
-
-"You ain't goin' to use thet good hay fur beddin,' be ye, M'ri?" asked
-Silas in pathetic anxiety.
-
-"I tell you let me be. Who has a better right to this? His labor cut it
-and hauled it; this is a time when the laborer shall git his hire."
-
-Silas went on rubbing, listening in painful silence to the click of the
-lock on the grain bin, and the swish of oats being poured into a trough.
-
-"Don't give him too much, M'ri," he pleaded humbly, "I don't mean ter be
-savin', but he'll eat hisself to death."
-
-"The first that ever did on this place," laughed the woman wildly.
-
-Then standing on the milking-stool she piled the blankets on the
-grateful horse, then led him to the stall where she stood and watched
-him eat. "I never see you so free 'round a hoss afore," said Silas; "you
-used to be skeered of 'em, he might kick ye."
-
-"He wouldn't because he ain't a man," she answered shrilly; "it's only
-men that gives blows for kindness!"
-
-"Land of the living!" cried Silas, as a step sounded on the floor, and
-a queer figure came slowly into the glare of light by the lantern, a
-figure that had a Rembrandt effect in the shadow--an old man, lean and
-tall, shrouded in a long coat and bearing on his back a heavy basket.
-
-"You can't be a human creetur, comin' here to-night," said Maria; "mebbe
-you're the Santy Claus Jim used to tell on as the boys told him; no man
-in his senses would come to Sile Lowell's fur shelter."
-
-"M'ri's upsot," said Silas meekly, taking the lantern with trembling
-hand; "I guess you've got off the road; the tavern's two mile down
-toward the river."
-
-"You've followed the right road," said Maria; "you've come at a day of
-reck'nin'; everythin' in the house, the best, you shall have."
-
-She snatched the light from Silas and slammed the barn door, leaving
-Tige contentedly champing his oats, wondering if he was still
-dreaming, and if his wild swim had been a nightmare followed by a vision
-of plenty. In the kitchen Maria filled the stove, lit two lamps and
-began making new tea.
-
-"Thet was a good strong drorin' we hed fur supper, M'ri," said Silas,
-plaintively, keenly conscious of previous economies; "'pears to me you
-don't need no new." She paid no heed to him, but set the table with
-the best dishes, the preserves--Silas noted with a groan--and then with
-quick, skillful hand began cutting generous slices of ham.
-
-"I hope you're hungry, sir?" she asked eagerly.
-
-"Wal, I be, marm," said the stranger; "an' if it ain't no trouble, I'll
-set this ere basket nigh the stove, there's things in it as will spile.
-I be consederable hungry, ain't eat a bite sence yesterd'y."
-
-Silas's face grew longer and longer; he looked at the hamper hopefully.
-That might contain a peddler's outfit and "M'ri" could get paid that
-way.
-
-"An' I hain't money nor nawthin' to pay fur my vittles 'less there was
-wood-sawin' to be done."
-
-"Wood's all sawed," said Silas bitterly.
-
-"I wouldn't take a cent," went on Maria, with flushed cheeks and
-sparkling eyes. "Ann Kirk thet hed the name of bein' as mean as me, was
-berried to day, and folks that keered nawthin' fur her is a goin' to hev
-her money an' make it fly. They say 'round here no grass will ever grow
-on her grave, fur ev'ry blade will be blarsted by the curses of the
-poor."
-
-"M'ri, you a perfessed Christian!" cried Silas.
-
-"There's good folks unperfessed," interposed the stranger; "but I dunno
-but a near Christian is better nor a spendthrift one as fetches up at
-the poorhouse."
-
-"Right you air!" said Silas, almost affably feeling he had an advocate.
-
-The stranger was tall and bony, with a thin, wrinkled face bronzed by
-wind and weather, with a goatee and mustache of pale brown hair, and a
-sparse growth of the same above a high bald forehead; his eyes were a
-faded brown, too, and curiously wistful in expression. His clothing was
-worn and poor, his hands work-hardened, and he stooped slightly. When
-the meal was ready he drew up to the table, Maria plying him with food.
-
-"Would you rather have coffee?" she asked.
-
-"Now you've got me, marm, but land! tea'll do."
-
-"I should think it would," snarled Silas; but his grumbling was silenced
-in the grinding of the coffee mill. When the ap-appetizing odor floated
-from the stove, Silas sniffed it, and his stomach began to yearn. "You
-put in a solid cup full," he muttered, trying to worry himself into
-refusing it.
-
-"We want a lot," laughed Maria.
-
-"Set up an' eat," called the stranger cheerily; "let's make a banquet;
-it's Chrismus Eve!"
-
-"That ham do smell powerful good," muttered Silas, unconsciously drawing
-his chair up to the table, where the stranger handed him a plate and
-passed the ham. Maria went on frying eggs, as if, thought her husband,
-"they warn't twenty-five cents a dozen," and then ran down into the
-cellar, returning panting and good-humored with a pan of apples and a
-jug of cider; then into the pantry, bringing a tin box out of which she
-took a cake.
-
-"That's pound cake, M'ri," cried Silas, aghast, holding his knife and
-fork upraised in mute horror. She went on cutting thick slices, humming
-under her breath.
-
-"Might I, marm," asked the stranger, pleasantly, "put this slice of ham
-and cake and this cup of milk aside, to eat bymeby?"
-
-"How many meals do you eat in a evening?" growled Silas, awestruck at
-such an appetite; "an' I want you to know this ain't no tavern."
-
-"Do eat a bite yourself, marm," said the stranger, as Maria carried the
-filled plate to the cupboard. The impudence of a tramp actually asking
-the mistress of the house to eat her own food, thought Silas. "We've eat
-our supper," he hurled at the stranger.
-
-"I couldn't tech a mite," said Maria, beginning to clear up, and as he
-was through eating, the stranger gallantly helped her while Silas smoked
-in speechless rage.
-
-"I'm used to being handy," explained the tramp. "I allus helped wife.
-She's bin dead these twenty years, leaving me a baby girl that I brought
-up."
-
-"You was good to her?" asked Maria wistfully; the stranger had such a
-kind voice and gentle ways.
-
-"I done the best I could, marm." Doubting his senses, Silas saw Maria
-bring out the haircloth rocking-chair with the bead tidy from the best
-front room. "Lemme carry it," said the tramp politely. "Now set in't
-yerself, marin, an' be comfurble." He took a wooden chair, tilted it
-back and picked up the cat. Maria, before she sat down, unmindful of
-Silas's bewildered stare, filled one of his pipes with his tobacco.
-
-"I know you smoke, mister," she smiled.
-
-"Wal, I do," answered the tramp, whiffing away in great comfort. "'Pears
-to me you're the biggest-hearted woman I ever see."
-
-She laughed bitterly. "There wan't a cluser woman in Corinth than me,
-an' folks'll tell you so. I turned my own son outer doors."
-
-"It was part my fault, Mri, an' you hush now," pleaded Silas, forgiving
-even her giving his tobacco away if she would not bring out that family
-skeleton.
-
-"I've heered you was cluse," said the stranger, "an' thet you sent Jim
-off because he went to circuses in Bath, an' wore store clothes, an'
-wanted wages to pay for 'em."
-
-"All true," said Maria, "an' he wanted to ride the horse, an' was mad at
-workin' him so hard." She went on then, and told how the old animal had
-come home.
-
-"An' me thinkin' the critter was a speerit," said the stranger in a
-hushed voice. "Beat's all what a dumb brute knows!"
-
-"I thought mebbe," went on Maria, twisting her thin fingers, "as Jim
-might be comin' home this time. They says things happens curious when
-folks is goin' ter die----"
-
-"Your good fur a good meny years, M'ri," said Silas, pitifully.
-
-"There's folks in this wurld," said the stranger, his kindly face
-growing sad and careworn since the mother's eager words, "that ain't
-men enuff, an' comes to charity to the end----"
-
-"That there be," assented Silas.
-
-"And as can't bring up their folks comfurble, nor keep 'em well an'
-happy, nor have a home as ain't berried under a mortgage they can't
-never clear off."
-
-"Ay, there's lots of 'em," cried Silas, "an' Mis Lowell was a twitting
-me this very night of bein' mean."
-
-"An' this good home, an' the fields I passed thro', an' the lane where
-the old hoss come a gallopin' up behind me, is paid fur, no mortgage on
-a acre?"
-
-"There never was on the Lowell prop'ty; they'll tell ye thet ennywhere,"
-said Silas.
-
-"We uns in the South, where I come from," said the stranger, shading
-his face with his bony hand, "ain't never forehanded somehow. My name is
-Dexter Brown, marm, an' I was alius misfortinat. I tell you, marm, one
-day when my creditors come an' took the cotton off my field, thet
-I'd plarnted and weeded and worked over in the brilin' sun, my wife
-says--an' she'd been patient and long-sufferin'--'Dex, I'm tired out;
-jest you bury me in a bit of ground that's paid fur, an' I'll lie in
-peace,' an' she died thet night."
-
-"Mebbe she never knowed what it were to scrimp an' save, an' do without,
-an never see nawthin', till all the good died in her," muttered Maria.
-
-"Part o' my debt was wines an' good vittles fur her, marm."
-
-"I'll warrant!" said Maria quickly, "an' she never wept over the graves
-of her dead children, an' heered their father complainin' of how much
-their sickness hed cost him. Oh, I tell you, there's them that reckons
-human agony by dollars an' cents, an' they're wus'n murderers!"
-
-"M'ri!" cried Silas.
-
-"Mebbe, marm, you are over-worrited ternight," said the stranger softly;
-"wimmen is all feelin', God bless 'em! an' how yer son loved ye, a
-tellin' of yer bright eyes an' red cheeks----"
-
-She turned to him with fierce eagerness. "He couldn't keer fur me, I
-wan't the kind. I don't mind me of hardly ever kissin' him. I worked
-him hard; I was cross an' stingy. He sed to me, 'There's houses that is
-never homes, mother.' I sneered an' blamed him for his little present."
-She ran and brought the vase. "I've kept that, Mr. Brown, over twenty
-years, but when he give it to me, bought outer his poor little savin's,
-I scolded him. I never let him hev the boys here to pop corn or make
-candy; it was waste and litter. Oh, I know what he meant; this was never
-a home."
-
-"But he only spoke kind of ye alius."
-
-"Did you know Jim? Been gone this ten year, an' never a word."
-
-Silas, a queer shadow on his face, looked eagerly at Brown.
-
-"I did know him," slowly and cautiously--"he was a cowboy in Texas, as
-brave as the best."
-
-"He could ride," cried Maria, "as part of a horse, an' Tige was the dead
-image of that Washington horse in the pictur, an' Jim used to say thet
-girl there in the blue gown was his girl--the one with the bouquet; an'
-I used to call him silly. I chilled all the fun he hed outer him, an'
-broken-speerited an' white-faced he drifted away from us, as far away as
-them in the graveyard, with the same weary look as they hed in goin'."
-
-"An' he took keer of much as a hundred cattle," said Silas; "they has
-thet meny I've heerd, in Texas?"
-
-"They has thousands; they loses hundreds by drought----"
-
-"Wanter know?" cried Silas, his imagination refusing to grasp such awful
-loss.
-
-"Wal, I knowed Jim, an' he got mer-ried----"
-
-"Merried!" from both the old parents. "He did. He says, 'I wunt write
-the home-folks till I'm well off, for mother will worrit an' blame me,
-an' I hain't money, but Minnie an' I love each other, an' are satisfied
-with little.'"
-
-"Minnie," the mother repeated. "Was she pretty?"
-
-"Woman all over you be, to ask thet, an' she was," said Brown, sadly;
-"with dark eyes, sorter wistful, an' hair like crinkled sunshine, an'
-a laugh like a merry child, fur trouble slipped off her shoulders like
-water off a duck's back."
-
-"An' they got prosperous?" asked Silas uneasily.
-
-"They was happy," said Brown with gentle dignity; "they was alius happy,
-but they lived under a mortgage, an' it was drift from pillar to post,
-an' ups an' downs.
-
-"An' they're poor now," muttered Silas, visions of Jim and his family to
-support coming to him.
-
-"Hush!" cried Maria. "Tell me, sir, was there children? Oh, the heart
-hunger I've had for the sound of a child's voice, the touch of baby
-hands. You an' me grandpa and grandma, Sile! an', my God! you think of
-money now."
-
-"Set calm," pleaded Brown, "for I must hev courage to tell ye all."
-
-"An' they sent ye to tell us they was comin'?" asked Silas, judging of
-their prosperity from the shabby herald.
-
-"They asked me to come, an' I swore it. There's a queer blight as
-creeps inter our country, which without thet might be like everlasting
-Paradise. Ourn is a land of summer an' flowers, but up here in this
-ice-bound region, the air is like water in runnin' brooks, it puts life
-an' health in ye."
-
-"There's the blight o' consumption here. We're foreordained to suffer
-all over this airth," muttered the woman.
-
-"But there it comes in waves of trouble--in awful haste--an' takes all
-at once, an' them that's well flees away and the sick dies alone. So the
-yellow fever come creepin' inter my home, fur Minnie was my child--the
-daughter I'd keered fur; an' fust the baby went from her arms, an' then
-little Silas (arter you, sir). Then Minnie sickened, an' her laugh is
-only an echo in my heart, for she died and was berried, the baby in her
-arms, and Jim was took next--an' he says" (only the ticking of the clock
-sounded now, never so loud before): "'I want you, dad,' (he called me
-dad) 'to go to my old home in Maine. I want you to tell my father I
-named my dead boy for him, and I thought of his frugal, saving life with
-pain, and yet I am proud that his name is respected as that of an honest
-man, whose word is his bond. I'll never go up the old lane again,' says
-Jim, 'nor see mother standing in the door with her bright eyes and red
-cheeks that I used to think was like winter apples. And the old horse,
-she said she'd care for, I won't see him again, nor hear the bells. In
-this land of summer I only long for winter, and dad, if I could hear
-those hoarse old jolly bells I'd die in peace. Queer, ain't it? And I
-remember some rides I took mother; she wan't afraid of the colt, and
-looked so pretty, a white hood over her dark hair. You go, dad, and say
-I was sorry, and I'd planned to come some day prosperous and happy,
-but it's never to be. Tell mother to think of me when she goes a Sunday
-afternoon to the buryin'-ground, as she used to with me, and by those
-little graves I fek her mother's heart beat for me, her living child,
-and I knew, though she said nothing, she cared for me.' He died tell-in'
-me this, marm, an' was berried by my girl, an' I think it was meant kind
-they went together, for both would a pined apart. So I've come all the
-way from Texas, trampin' for weary months, for I was poor, to give you
-Jim's words."
-
-"Dead! Jim dead!" cried Silas, in a queer, dazed way. "M'ri,"
-querulously, "you alius sed he was so helthy!"
-
-She went to him and laid her hand on his bowed head.
-
-"An' we've saved an' scrimped an' pinched fur strangers, M'ri, fur there
-ain't no Lowell to have the prop'ty, an' I meant it all fur Jim. When he
-was to come back he'd find he was prosperous, an' he'd think how I tried
-to make him so."
-
-"The Lord don't mean all dark clouds in this life," said the stranger.
-"Out of that pestilence, that never touched her with its foul breath,
-came a child, with Minnie's face and laugh, but Jim's own eyes--a bit of
-mother an' father."
-
-The old people were looking at him with painful eagerness, dwelling on
-his every word.
-
-"It was little May; named Maria, but we called her May for she was
-borned three year ago in that month; a tiny wee thing, an' I stood by
-their graves an' I hardened my heart. 'They drove her father out; they
-sha'n't crush her young life,' I said. 'I'll keep her.' But I knowed I
-couldn't. Poverty was grinding me, and with Jim's words directin' me, I
-brought her here."
-
-"Brought her here!" cried the poor woman.
-
-"Ay! She's a brave little lass, an' I told her to lie quiet in the
-basket till I told her to come out, fur mebbe you wan't kind an' would
-send us both out, but I found your hearts ready fur her----"
-
-With one spring Maria reached the basket and flung open the lid,
-disclosing a tiny child wrapped in a ragged shawl, sleeping peacefully
-in her cramped bed, but with tears on her long lashes, as if the waiting
-had tried her brave little soul.
-
-"Jest as gritty," said Brown, "an' so good to mind; poor lass!"
-
-Maria lifted her out, and the child woke up, but did not cry at the
-strange face that smiled on her with such pathetic eagerness. "Oh, the
-kitty!" cried May. "I had a kitty once!" That familiar household object
-reconciled her at once. She ate the cake eagerly and drank the milk,
-insisting on feeding the ham to the cat.
-
-"Him looks hungry," she said.
-
-"We've all been starved!" cried Maria, clasping the child to her heart.
-
-Such a beautiful child, with her merry eyes and laugh and her golden
-curls, a strange blossom from a New England soil, yet part of her
-birthright was the land of flowers and sunshine. Somehow that pathetic
-picture of the past faded when the mother saw a blue and gilt vase in
-the baby's hand--Jim's baby's.
-
-"It's pitty; fank you!" said the little creature. Then she got down to
-show her new dress and her shoes, and made excursions into the pantry,
-opening cupboard doors, but touching nothing, only exclaiming, "Dear me,
-how pitty!" at everything. Then she came back, and at Brown's request,
-with intense gravity, began a Spanish dance she had learned when they
-stopped at San Antonio, from watching the Mexican senoritas. She held
-up her little gown on one side and gravely made her steps while Dexter
-whistled. The fire leaped up and crackled loudly, as if it would join
-her, the cat purred, the tea-kettle sung from the back of the stove,
-and little snowflakes, themselves hurrying, skurrying in a merry dance,
-clung to the win dow-pane and called other little flakes to hasten and
-see such a pretty sight. Maria watched in breathless eagerness, and
-Silas, carried beyond himself, forgetting his scruples, cried out:
-"Wal, ef that don't beat all I ever see! Come here, you little chick!"
-holding out his silver watch.
-
-With a final pirouette she finished with a grave little courtesy, then
-ran to Silas: "Is there birdie in der?" and he caught her up and kissed
-her.
-
-When the old lane is shady in summertime, and golden-rod and daisies
-crowd the way, and raspberries climb the stonewall, and merry squirrels
-chatter and mock the red-breasted robins, and bees go humming through
-the ordorous air, there comes a big white horse that looks like
-Washington's in the picture; and how carefully he walks and bears
-himself, for he brings a little princess who has made the old house
-a home. Such a fairylike little thing, who from her sunshine makes
-everybody bright and happy, and Silas' grim old face is smiling as he
-leads the horse, and Maria, with her basket of berries, is helped over
-the wall by Dexter Brown, who always says he must go but never does,
-for they love him, and he and Silas work harmoniously together. And
-grandma's eyes are brighter than ever and her cheeks as red.
-
-"What comfortable folks they air gittin' to be," say the neighbors,
-"kinder livin', but I dunno but goin' a berryin' a hull arternoon is
-right down shiftless."
-
-Winter is over and forever gone from that household on the hill; the
-coming of gracious, smiling spring in a sweet child's presence has made
-eternal sunshine in those ice-bound hearts.
-
-[Illustration: 5359]
-
-[Illustration: 0360]
-
-
-
-
-CYNTHY'S JOE, By Clara Sprague Ross
-
-
-|I DON'T think he'll be sech a fool as to p'int fer home the fust
-thing he does." The speaker, a young man with a dull, coarse face and
-slouching air, knocked the ashes from a half-smoked cigar with his
-little finger, which was heavily ornamented with a large seal ring, and
-adjusted himself to a more comfortable position.
-
-"I dun'no which p'int o' the compass he'd more naterally turn to,"
-observed another; an elderly man with a stoop in his shoulders, and a
-sharp, thin face that with all its petty shrewdness was not without its
-compensating feature--a large and kindly mouth. The third man in the
-little group was slowly walking back and forth on the platform that ran
-across the station, rolling and unrolling a small red flag which he held
-in his hands. He turned with a contemptuous "umph" to the young man,
-remarking as he did so, "'Tain't mostly fools as goes to prison. Joe
-Atherton prob'ly has as many friends in this section o' the kentry as
-some who hain't been away so much."
-
-"Joe was a good little boy," pursued the old station-master; "he wuz
-allers kind to his mother. I never heard a word ag'in him till that city
-swell came down here fer the summer and raised blazes with the boy."
-
-"If there ain't the Squire!" exclaimed a hitherto silent member; "he's
-the last man as I should jedge would come to the deepo to welcome Joe
-Atherton."
-
-A stout, florid, pompous individual slowdy mounted the platform steps,
-wiping his forehead with a flaming red silk handkerchief, which he
-had taken from his well-worn straw hat. "Warm afternoon, friends," he
-suggested, with an air of having vastly contributed to the information
-of the men, whose only apparent concern in life was an anxiety to find a
-shady corner within conversational distance of each other.
-
-The Squire seated himself in the only chair of which the forlorn station
-boasted; he leaned back until his head was conveniently supported, and
-furtively glanced at a large old-fashioned watch which he drew from his
-vest pocket.
-
-"Train's late this a'ternoon, Squar'," said the man with the red flag. "I
-reckon ye'll all hev to go home without seein' the show; 'tain't no ways
-sartin Joe'll come to-day. Parson Mayhew sed his time was up the fust
-week in September, but there's no tellin' the day as I knows on."
-
-A sustained, heavy rumble sounded in the distance. Each man straightened
-himself and turned his head to catch the first glimpse of the
-approaching engine, With a shriek and only a just perceptible lessening
-of its speed, the mighty train rushed by them without stopping, and was
-out of sight before the eager watchers regained the power of speech.
-
-Five minutes later the red flag was in its place behind the door, its
-keeper turned the key and hastened to overtake his neighbor, who had
-reached the highway. Hearing the hurrying footsteps behind him, the man
-turned, saying triumphantly, "I'm right-down, glad he didn't come."
-
-"So be I; there's an express late this evenin' that might bring him
-down. I shall be here if Louisy's so as I kin leave her."
-
-"Wa'al," returned the other, "I shan't be over ag'in to-night, but you
-jest tell Joe, fer me, to come right ta my house; he's welcome. Whatever
-he done as a boy, he's atoned fer in twenty years. I remember jest how
-white and sot his face was the day they took him away; he was only a boy
-then, he's a man now, gray-headed most likely; the Athertons turned gray
-early, and sorrow and sin are terrible helps to white hair."
-
-The old man's voice faltered a little; he drew the back of his hard,
-brown hand across his eyes. Something that neither of the men could
-have defined prompted them to shake hands at the "Corners"; they did so
-silently, and without looking up.
-
-Joe came that night. The moon and the stars were the silent and only
-witnesses of the convict's return. It was just as Joe had hoped it might
-be; yet there was in the man's soul an awful sense of his loneliness and
-isolation The eager, wistful light faded out of his large blue eyes, the
-lines about his firm, tightly-drawn mouth deepened, the whole man took
-on an air of sullen defiance. Nobody cared for him, why should he care?
-He wondered if "Uncle Aaron," as the boys used to call him, still kept
-the old station and signaled the trains. Alas! it was one of "Louisy's"
-bad nights; her husband could not leave her, and so Joe missed forever
-the cordial hand old Aaron would have offered him, and the kind message
-he was to give him, for his neighbor.
-
-Sadly, wearily, Joe turned and walked toward the road, lying white
-and still in the moonlight. His head dropped lower and lower upon his
-breast; without lifting it he put out his hand, at length, and raised
-the latch of a dilapidated gate that opened into a deep, weed-entangled
-yard. His heart was throbbing wildly, a fierce, hot pain shot through
-his eyes. Could he ever look up? He knew the light of the home he was
-seeking had gone out in darkness years before. The only love in the
-world that would have met him without question or reproach was silent
-forever; but here was her home--his home once--the little white house
-with its green blinds and shady porch.
-
-He must look up or his heart would burst. With a cry that rang loud and
-clear on the quiet night, he fell upon his face, his fingers clutching
-and tearing the long, coarse grass. There was no house--no home--only
-a mass of blackened timbers, a pile of ashes, the angle of a tumbling
-wall. Hardly knowing what he did, Joe crept into the shelter of the old
-stone wall. With his face buried in his hands he lived over again, in
-one short half-hour, the life he hoped he had put away when the prison
-doors closed behind him. All through the day there had struggled in his
-heart a faint, unreasoning faith that life might yet hold something fair
-for him; one ray of comfort, one word of kindness, and faith would have
-become a reality. As the man, at last lifted his pale, agonized face to
-the glittering sky above him he uttered no word of prayer or entreaty,
-but with the studied self-control that years of repression had taught
-him, he rose from the ground and walked slowly out of the yard and
-down the cheerless road again to the station. Life hereafter could mean
-nothing to him but a silent moving-on. Whenever or wherever he
-became known, men would shrink and turn away from him. There was no
-abiding-place, no home, no love for him in all God's mighty world. He
-accepted the facts; there was only one relief--somewhere, some time, a
-narrow bed would open for him and the green sod would shelter the man
-and his sin till eternity.
-
-He hastily plucked a bit of golden-rod that nodded by the roadside; then
-taking a small, ragged book from a pocket just over his heart, he opened
-it and put the yellow spray between the leaves. As he did so a bit of
-paper fluttered to the ground. Joe stooped and picked it up. It was a
-letter he had promised to deliver from a fellow-prisoner to his mother
-in a distant town.
-
-Not very far away an engine whistled at a crossing. A slowly moving
-freight and accommodation train pulled up at the depot a few moments
-later. Joe entered the dark, ill-smelling car at the rear and turned his
-face once more to the world.
-
-It was in the early twilight of the next evening that Joe found himself
-in the hurry and confusion of a large manufacturing town. As he passed
-from the great depot into the brilliantly lighted street, he was
-bewildered for a moment and stood irresolute, with his hand shading his
-eyes. At one corner of the park that lay between the station and the
-next street, a man with a Punch-and-Judy theatre had drawn around him a
-crowd of men, women, and children. Joe mechanically directed his steps
-that way, and unconsciously became a part of the swaying, laughing
-audience.
-
-"Hold me up once more, do Mariar, I can't see nothin'," begged a piping,
-childish voice at Joe's knee.
-
-"I can't, Cynthy; my arms is most broke now holdin' of ye; ef you
-don't stop teasin' I'll never take ye nowheres again," replied a tall,
-handsome girl, to whom the child was clinging.
-
-Joe bent without a word, and picking up the small, ill-shaped morsel of
-human longing and curiosity, swung her upon his broad shoulder, where
-she sat watching the tiny puppets and listening to their shrill cries,
-oblivious of all else in the world. Once she looked down into the man's
-face with her great, dark, fiery eyes and said softly, "Oh, how good you
-are!" A shiver ran through Joe's frame; these were the first words that
-had been addressed to him since he said good-bye to the warden in that
-dreary corridor, which for this one moment had been forgotten. The
-little girl, without turning her eyes from the dancing figures before
-her, put one arm about Joe's neck and nestled a little closer to him.
-Joe could have stood forever. The tall, dark girl, however, had missed
-Cynthy's tiresome pulling at her skirts and the whining voice. She
-looked anxiously about and called "Cynthy! Cynthy! where are you? I'll
-be thankful if ever I gets you back to your grandmother." The fretful
-words aroused Joe from his happy reverie; he hurriedly placed the child
-on the pavement, and in an instant was lost in the crowd.
-
-He set out upon his quest the following morning and had no difficulty in
-finding the old woman he was seeking. At one of a dozen doors marking as
-many divisions of a long, low tenement building near the river, he had
-knocked, and the door had opened into a small, clean kitchen, where a
-bright fire burned in a tiny stove, and a row of scarlet geraniums
-in pots ornamented the front window. The woman who admitted him he
-recognized at once as the mother of the man in that far-away prison,
-whose last hold-upon love and goodness was the remembrance of the aged,
-wrinkled face so wonderfully like his own. In a corner behind the door
-there stood an old-fashioned trundle-bed. As Joe stepped into the room a
-child, perhaps ten years old, started up from it, exclaiming "That's the
-man, Granny; the man who put me on his shoulder, when Mariar was cross.
-Come in! come in, man," she urged.
-
-"Be still, Cynthy," retorted the grandmother, not unkindly, as she
-placed a chair for Joe, who was walking over to the little bed from
-which the child was evidently not able to rise alone. Two frail hands
-were outstretched to him, two great black eyes were raised to his full
-of unspoken gratitude. Joe took the soiled letter from its hiding-place
-and gave it to the woman without a word. She glanced at the scarcely
-legible characters, and went into an adjoining room, her impassive face
-working convulsively.
-
-"What's the matter with Granny, was she crying? I never seen her cry
-before," said Cynthy. "Granny's had heaps o' trouble. I'm all thet's
-left of ten children and a half-dozen grandchildren. She says I'm the
-poorest of the lot, too, with the big bone thet's grow'd out on my back;
-it aches orful nights, and makes my feet so tired and shaky mornin's.
-Granny's kind o' queer; some days she just sets and looks into the fire
-fer hours without speakin', and it's so still I kin a'most hear my heart
-beat; and I think, and think, and never speak, neither, till Granny
-comes back and leans over me and kisses me; then it's all right ag'in,
-an' Granny makes a cup o' tea an' a bite o' toast and the sun comes in
-the winder, and I forget 'bout the pain, an' go out with Mariar, when
-she'll take me, like I did last night."
-
-The child's white, pinched features flushed feverishly, her solemn,
-dusky eyes burned like coals. She had been resting her chin in her
-hands, and gazing up into Joe's face with a fascinated intensity.
-She fell back wearily upon the pillows as the door opened, and her
-grandmother returned and put her hand on Joe's shoulder, saying
-brokenly, "You've been very kind." The little clock on the shelf over
-the kitchen table ticked merrily, and the tea-kettle hummed, as if it
-would drown the ticking, while Joe and Cynthy's grandmother discussed
-and planned for the future.
-
-It was finally settled that Joe should look for work in Danvers, and if
-he found it, his home should be with the old woman and Cynthy. He did
-not try to express the joy that surged over and through his heart, that
-rushed up into his brain, until his head was one mad whirl; but with a
-firm, quick step and a brave, calm look on his strong face, he went out
-to take his place in the busy, struggling world--a man among men.
-
-Two months passed; months of toil, of anxiety, sometimes of fear;
-but Joe was so gladdened and comforted by Cynthy's childish love and
-confidence, that, little by little, he came out of the shadow that had
-threatened to blacken his life, into the sunshine and peace of a homely,
-self-sacrificing existence in "Riverside Row."
-
-Cynthy's ideas of heaven were very vague, and not always satisfactory,
-even to herself, but she often wondered, since Joe came, if heaven
-ever began here and she was not tasting some of its minor delights. Of
-course, she did not put it in just this way; but Cynthy's heaven was a
-place where children walked and were never tired, where above all things
-they wore pretty clothes and had everything that was denied them on
-earth. Joe had realized so many of the child's wild dreams, had made
-possible so many longed-for or unattainable pleasures, had so brightened
-and changed her weary, painful life, that to Cynthy's eyes there was
-always about his head a halo as in the pictures of Granny's saints;
-goodness, kindness, generosity--love, were for her spelled with three
-letters, and read--Joe. Out of the hard-earned wages the man put into
-Granny's hand every Saturday night, there was always a little
-reserved for Cynthy. Her grandmother sometimes fretted or occasionally
-remonstrated; but Joe was firm. Alas! human life, like the never-resting
-earth, of which it is a part, swings out of the sunlight into the
-shadow, out of the daytime into the darkness through which the moon and
-the stars do not always shine.
-
-One night, a bitter, stormy night in November, he was a little late in
-leaving his work. He had to pass, on his way out of the building, a knot
-of men who were talking in suppressed voices. They did not ask him
-to join them, but the words "prison-scab," "jail-bird", fell on his
-ever-alert ear. With a shudder he hurried on.
-
-Granny was stooping over the trundle-bed in a vain attempt to quiet the
-child, who was tossing upon it, in pain and delirium. Cynthy had slipped
-upon a piece of ice a few days before, and now she was never free from
-the torturing, burning pain in her back. Sometimes it was in her head,
-too, and then with shrill, harsh cries, she begged for Joe, until Granny
-thanked God when the factory-whistle blew and she heard the man's quick,
-short step on the pavement. Joe warmed himself at the fire for a moment,
-then taking Cynthy in his tired arms, he walked slowly up and down the
-room. Through the long, dreary night he patiently carried the moaning
-child. If he attempted, never so carefully, to lay her down, she clung
-to him so wildly or cried so wearily that Joe could only soothe her
-and take lip the tiresome march again. Granny, thoroughly worn out, sat
-sleeping in her large chair. Cynthy grew more restless. Once she nearly
-sprang from Joe's arms, screaming, "Go way, Mariar; you're a hateful
-thing! I won't listen; 'tain't true; Joe is good," and dropping back
-heavily, she whispered, "I love you, Joe." She knew, then! Joe thought
-his heart would never throb again.
-
-He listened for the early morning whistles. One by one they sounded on
-the clear, keen air, but never the one for which he waited. As soon
-as it was light, he peered through the ice-covered window at the tall
-chimneys just beyond the "Row." They rose grim and silent, but no smoke
-issued from them. The end had come. Joe knew a strike was on.
-
-Sometime in the afternoon of that day Cynthy suffered herself to be
-placed on the small, white bed; but she was not willing Joe should leave
-her, and was quiet only when he held her feeble hand in his close grasp.
-No sound escaped the man's white lips. Only God and the angels watched
-his struggle with the powers of darkness. As night came on again, Cynthy
-sank into a heavy sleep, and Joe, released, took his hat and went out
-very softly.
-
-He stopped after a long walk at the massive doors of a "West End"
-palace. He followed with downcast eyes the servant who answered his ring
-into a small but elegant reception-room, where he was told he might wait
-for the master of the house, the owner of the large manufactory where he
-was employed. Into the patient ear of this man, whom he had never seen
-before, Joe poured the story of his life. The sin, the shame, the agony
-of despair, his salvation through Cynthy.
-
-"I will call my son," said the sympathizing old gentleman as Joe rose to
-go; "he is one of Danvers' best physicians. He will go with you and see
-what can be done for the little girl."
-
-An hour later the two men were bending over the sick child. "She is very
-ill," said the young doctor, in reply ta Joe's mute, appealing face.
-"This stupor may end in death, or it may result in a sleep which will
-bring relief. You must be brave, my friend. A few hours to-night will
-decide. You may hope." Joe's weary limbs faltered beneath him. He fell
-upon his knees breathing a wordless prayer that the child might be
-spared to bless and comfort hi& lonely, aching heart; while all unseen
-the Angel of Life hovered over the little bed.
-
-[Illustration: 5372]
-
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-
-
-
-
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-
-
-End of Project Gutenberg's Rancho Del Muerto, by Charles King and Various
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-  <head>

-    <title>

-      Rancho Del Muerto, by Charles King

-    </title>

-    <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" />

-    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">

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-

-<pre>

-

-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rancho Del Muerto, by Charles King and Various

-

-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most

-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions

-whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of

-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at

-www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have

-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.

-

-

-

-Title: Rancho Del Muerto

-       and Other Stories of Adventure from "Outing" by Various Authors

-

-Author: Charles King

-        Various

-

-Release Date: May 1, 2016 [EBook #51919]

-Last Updated: March 15, 2018

-

-Language: English

-

-Character set encoding: UTF-8

-

-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RANCHO DEL MUERTO ***

-

-

-

-

-Produced by David Widger from page images generously

-provided by the Internet Archive

-

-

-

-

-

-

-</pre>

-

-    <div style="height: 8em;">

-      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h1>

-      RANCHO DEL MUERTO

-    </h1>

-    <h2>

-      By Charles King, Capt. U. S. Army.

-    </h2>

-    <h3>

-      And Other Stories of Adventure by Various Authors

-    </h3>

-    <h4>

-      From &ldquo;Outing&rdquo; (Illustrated)

-    </h4>

-    <h4>

-      The Outing Publishing Company,

-    </h4>

-    <h5>

-      New York And London

-    </h5>

-    <h5>

-      1895

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0001.jpg" alt="0001 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0001.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0007.jpg" alt="0007 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0007.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <b>CONTENTS</b>

-    </p>

-    <p class="toc">

-      <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> RANCHO DEL MUERTO, By Charles King, Capt. U. S.

-      Army. </a>

-    </p>

-    <p class="toc">

-      <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> A MIGHTY HUNTER BEFORE THE LORD, By Virginius

-      Dabney. </a>

-    </p>

-    <p class="toc">

-      <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> A CAHUTTA VALLEY SHOOTING MATCH, By Will N.

-      Harben </a>

-    </p>

-    <p class="toc">

-      <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> MOERAN'S MOOSE&mdash;A HUNTING STORY, By Ed. W.

-      Sandys. </a>

-    </p>

-    <p class="toc">

-      <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> THE MYSTERY OF A CHRISTMAS HUNT, By Talbot

-      Torrance </a>

-    </p>

-    <p class="toc">

-      <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> HERNE THE HUNTER, By William Perry Brown </a>

-    </p>

-    <p class="toc">

-      <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> UNCLE DUKE'S &ldquo;B'AR&rdquo; STORY, By Lillian Gilfillan

-      </a>

-    </p>

-    <p class="toc">

-      <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> A CIGARETTE FROM CARCINTO, By Edward French </a>

-    </p>

-    <p class="toc">

-      <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> ANTAEUS, By Frank M. Bicknell </a>

-    </p>

-    <p class="toc">

-      <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> WHICH MISS CHARTERIS, By C. G. Rogers </a>

-    </p>

-    <p class="toc">

-      <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> THE BEAR'S-HEAD BROOCH, By Ernest Ingersoll

-      </a>

-    </p>

-    <p class="toc">

-      <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> MISS GWYNNE'S BURGLAR, By Violet Etynge Mitchell

-      </a>

-    </p>

-    <p class="toc">

-      <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> THE LADY IN ROUGE, By W. E. P. French </a>

-    </p>

-    <p class="toc">

-      <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> THE BREAKING OF WINTER, By Patience Stapleton

-      </a>

-    </p>

-    <p class="toc">

-      <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> CYNTHY'S JOE, By Clara Sprague Ross </a>

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /> <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /> <br /> <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div style="height: 4em;">

-      <br /><br /><br /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h2>

-      RANCHO DEL MUERTO, By Charles King, Capt. U. S. Army.

-    </h2>

-    <h3>

-      FIRST PART

-    </h3>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="figleft" style="width:20%;">

-      <img src="images/9013.jpg" alt="9013 " width="100%" /><br /><a

-      href="images/9013.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </div>

-    <p>

-      O denying it&mdash;there was something uncanny about the place at the very

-      first glance. The paymaster admitted that to himself as his ambulance

-      slowly drove in, and his escort of half a dozen troopers came clattering

-      after. It was his first visit to the spot, and he shrugged his broad

-      shoulders and murmured a word of caution to the silent clerk who sat

-      beside him:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0015.jpg" alt="0015 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0015.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0016.jpg" alt="0016 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0016.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I want you to keep eyes and ears open here, Staines. We've got to make a

-      night of it. You remember that this is where Sergeant Dinsmore was

-      murdered, and I've heard nothing but bad accounts of the people for the

-      last six months.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Mr. Staines was apparently a man who wasted no words. Acquiescence with

-      him may have been expressed by silence. At all events he made no reply.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Were you ever at the ranch before, when you made the trips with Colonel

-      Forte?&rdquo; asked the paymaster.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;No, sir, it's&mdash;all strange to me hereabouts.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;How far are we from Canyon del Muerto now, sergeant?&rdquo; asked the officer

-      of the bearded trooper who rode close alongside.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Sixteen miles, sir, on a bee line, but at least twenty by the road. We're

-      off the direct trail now. We could have got through the canyon and reached

-      the camp before this if that mule hadn't gone lame.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Major,&rdquo; said Staines in a low tone, &ldquo;I can get a saddle horse or mule

-      here, no doubt. Had I not better ride right on? I can reach Captain

-      Rawlins' camp by 9 or 10 o'clock. He will be mighty anxious at your

-      non-arrival.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I was thinking of sending one man ahead; I don't like to let you go. It

-      will wear you out for to-morrow's work.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Indeed it won't, sir; I'm feeling fresh enough, and the change from wagon

-      to saddle will just suit me. I think I'd better go.&rdquo; And there was an

-      eager look in Staines' clear-cut face.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I'll think about it&rdquo; was the dubious answer. &ldquo;These cavalry men are the

-      proper ones to send, not a paymaster's clerk. If anything befell you on

-      the route I would be crippled in making payments.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Nothing would be apt to befall me, sir; I know that road well.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I thought you said all was strange to you hereabouts&rdquo; said the paymaster

-      quickly. But the clerk showed no discomfiture.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I said here, around the ranch. The direct road lies off there nearly nine

-      miles to the southwest, sir. That is the one we always took going to

-      Tucson.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The paymaster relapsed into silence. It is all very well to have

-      subordinates who know far more than does the senior officer, yet the

-      latter does not always find it agreeable. His own clerk having resigned

-      some six months previous and returned to the East, when Major Sherrick was

-      ordered from San Francisco to Arizona he had employed Mr. Staines at the

-      urgent request of the officer whom he relieved. Staines had property

-      interests in the Territory, he was told, and wanted to remain. He was a

-      man profoundly versed in his duties; accurate, temperate, reliable and of

-      unimpeachable character, said his recommenders. Sherrick was glad to get

-      him, for he himself had no head for figures, and had been made a paymaster

-      from civil life simply because his uncle the Senator found him a failure

-      in every other capacity, and demanded the appointment of an Executive who

-      could not deny him, though he felt like kicking himself when he looked at

-      the long list of grizzled, war-tried captains who were wistful applicants

-      for the longed-for promotion.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      A tall Mexican stepped forward with much urbanity and grace of manner to

-      assist the paymaster to alight as the ambulance stopped in front of the

-      ranch, and Major Sherrick looked with emotions of surprise upon Pedro

-      Ruiz, the proprietor.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You don't mean to say that's the scoundrel we heard so much bad talk

-      about at headquarters?&rdquo; he whispered to Staines at the first opportunity.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;The very same, sir; the most accomplished cutthroat in Arizona, if we can

-      believe our senses and disregard evidence.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Where are his men? He seems alone here, all but that old greaser yonder.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Dios sabe,&rdquo; answered the clerk briefly, though his eyes glanced quickly

-      away toward the purpling range to the south. &ldquo;But we shall need our guards

-      every moment we are here, sir, that's certain.&rdquo; An hour later night had

-      settled down upon the broad valley, black and forbidding. All day long the

-      wind had been sighing about the corral, whirling clouds of dust from the

-      loose, sandy soil and sifting it in through many a chink and crevice over

-      the floor of Pedro's ranch. The great ranges to the northwest, the Sierras

-      to the south, were whitecapped at their lofty summits, but all over the

-      arid miles of surrounding desert the sun had been hotly blazing from noon

-      to the dewless eve, and not until it sank behind the western wave did the

-      wind sweep down untempered. Through its shallow bed the Gila rolled, a

-      lazy, turbid current, not a rifle shot away. Quicksands and muddy pools

-      flanked its course for miles and barred all attempts at crossing except at

-      the point where thrifty Pedro had &ldquo;corduroyed&rdquo; the flats with boards that

-      had formerly done duty at the agency building, and, having originally cost

-      the paternal Government something in the neighborhood of $1 apiece, had

-      now come down to the base uses of daily trampling under foot. The stage to

-      the Gripsack Mines, the huge ox teams and triple-hitched wagons, the

-      nimble pack mules, even the buckboard with the United States mail, paid

-      reluctant tribute into Pedro's dingy palm, though the owners mentally

-      damned him for a thief.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Everybody in that part of Arizona well knew that in the unprecedented rise

-      of the Gila, a few years back, two of the agency storehouses had been

-      floated away down the stream, accompanied by a dense flotilla of joists,

-      scantling and clapboards, which had been piled up on the river bank after

-      weeks of laborious transportation from Plummer's saw mill in the San

-      Gabriel. So, too, had sundry casks of bacon, barrels of beans and bales of

-      Indian goods; and while portions of this flood-swept assortment were found

-      stranded and scattered along the winding shores as far down as Pedro's

-      bailiwick, not so much as a solitary shingle had passed beyond, and the

-      laws of flotsam and jetsam had received at the hands of this shrewd

-      &ldquo;greaser&rdquo; their most liberal construction. More than once had the Federal

-      authorities been compelled to proceed to stringent measures with Pedro and

-      arraign him before a jury of his peers on charges of having robbed and

-      defrauded the General Government, and more than once with prompt and

-      cheering unanimity had the jury pronounced him not guilty, a service which

-      he never failed to requite in kind when Garcia, Gomez or Sancho came up

-      for his turn. And now the old Mexican was proprietor of a goodly ranch,

-      built mainly of adobe, it is true, as were his roomy corrals and

-      storehouses, yet roofed, floored, partitioned, doored and menu for either

-      breakfast, dinner or supper, at a charge of $1 a head for any and all

-      travelers who sought to appease their appetite at his table. He kept a

-      bar, too, and dealt out villainous &ldquo;tanglefoot&rdquo; and windowed, too, by the

-      unwilling contributions wrung from Uncle Sam.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      For three years he had furnished bacon, <i>frijoles</i> and fried eggs,

-      the unvarying fiery mescal to such stomachs as could stand the onslaught

-      and the tax of two bits a thimbleful. He ran a &ldquo;brace game&rdquo; of monte

-      whenever the packers were drunk or strangers fool enough to play. He was a

-      thorough-paced rascal in the opinion of every &ldquo;gringo&rdquo; who passed that

-      way, and a man of unimpeachable character according to all records in the

-      case. He was a &ldquo;greaser&rdquo; of whom everything had been said and nothing

-      proved; that is, to the satisfaction of an old-time Arizona jury. But Mr.

-      Whitlock, the new United States District Attorney, was said to be &ldquo;laying&rdquo;

-       for Pedro, and between those who knew them both and were aware of the

-      possibilities of finding twelve better men and truer outside of Maricopa

-      County, bets were even as to the result.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0021.jpg" alt="0021 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0021.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Just let me get that thieving greaser across the line into Yavapai,&rdquo; said

-      a local luminary, &ldquo;and I'll find a jury that will hang him on sight or

-      lynch him on general principles.&rdquo; But Pedro knew better than to venture

-      northward along the tempting shores of the Hassayampa. Even the chance of

-      collecting a bad debt from a fellow countryman, known to be lurking in

-      Wickenburg, failed to lure Pedro thither. He smiled suggestively, showing

-      his white teeth and waving aside the blue smoke of his cigarrito with

-      sinewy brown hand. &ldquo;A&mdash;Wickenburg is too damn close to Yavapai, and

-      Yavapai to 'ell,&rdquo; he remarked. And it had more than once been said of

-      Pedro that he spoke English like a native.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Rancho Ruiz&rdquo; was the sonorous and pretentious title he had bestowed upon

-      the establishment to which the winding Arizona roadway led. &ldquo;Cutthroat

-      Crossing&rdquo; was what the soldiers and placer miners had called this half

-      ferry, half ford of Pedro's ever since the body of young Sergeant Dinsmore

-      had been found stranded on a sand bar of the Gila two miles below,' his

-      neck and his money belt slashed by the same knife. Going into Yuma with

-      well-lined pockets, Dinsmore had been warned to make no stay among the

-      gang of monte players always hovering about Pedro's. But he had been a

-      bold and successful gambler at Tucson. He had nothing but contempt for

-      Mexican bravos and confidence in his own prowess as a shot. The card table

-      had attractions he could not well resist, but the ranch had still another&mdash;Pedro's

-      daughter.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Now it was when he was sent thither with a squad of a dozen troopers,

-      hunting up the missing sergeant, that Lieutenant Adriance caught sight of

-      this siren of a senorita. She could not have been more than seventeen, and

-      her mother would have denied her even that number of years. &ldquo;She is a mere

-      child,&rdquo; protested Senora Dolores, when the subject was mentioned. Pedro

-      had moved up from Sonora only a few years before, and had lived a while at

-      the old Mexico-Spanish town of Tucson, whither, ere long, there came

-      unflattering tales as to the cause of his change of residence. He had

-      money, and that in Arizona covered more sins than charity. The boundary

-      line lay conveniently near. Extradition was an unpracticed art in the days

-      whereof we write. Apaches of the mountains and assassins of the mines

-      found equal refuge across the border, and in exchange we received such

-      choice spirits as proved too tough for even a Mexican town to tolerate. Of

-      such was Pedro; but no one to look at Pedro's daughter would have called

-      her a felon's child.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The night that Adriance reached the rancho on the search just mentioned he

-      had purposely left his little escort some distance up the Gila, and

-      advanced alone to reconnoitre. It was a perfectly still evening, soft and

-      starry. The hoofs of his broncho made no sound upon the sandy waste of

-      road, and not even the dogs about the corral seemed aware of his coming.

-      Adriance had thrice visited the ranch before, when returning from scout or

-      pursuit of Apaches, and never once had he been greeted by feminine voice

-      about the premises. It was with no little surprise, then, that he heard

-      the tinkle of a guitar and the sound of low, soft, girlish tones singing a

-      plaintive melody. He had heard many a Mexican ditty, and had pronounced

-      the singers twangy, shrill and nasal; but this was different. He had come

-      to Rancho Ruiz with every expectation of finding evidence of the murder of

-      one of his most valued troopers, and here, on the instant of his arrival,

-      was disarmed by a song. East of the ranch there stood a little

-      lattice-work structure, something after the manner of a summer house, and

-      from thence the sounds proceeded. The lieutenant leaped from his horse and

-      strode to the entrance, wondering what manner of woman he should find

-      beyond. There was not light enough to distinguish either form or feature,

-      but over in the farther corner was a shadowy something in white. The song

-      continued but a moment before the singer became aware of the equally

-      shadowy form at the entrance, and stopped abruptly.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Leon!&rdquo; spoke a girlish voice in the Spanish tongue, &ldquo;you frightened me.

-      Is that you?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I am Felipe, otherwise Phil. Adriance, of the American Cavalry, senorita,

-      and far more surprised than you are at seeing me.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The girl started to her feet as though flight was her first impulse, then

-      hesitated. Did not the &ldquo;Senor Teniente&rdquo; bar the way in merely standing in

-      the entrance?

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Do not be alarmed, I beg of you,&rdquo; implored the young officer, &ldquo;it is so

-      long since I have heard a song in a woman's voice. It is such a surprise

-      to hear one now. Do sing for me again. I will have to stand here where I

-      can hold my horse.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      For a moment she was silent, then: &ldquo;You have been to the rancho? You have

-      seen my father?&rdquo; she asked at length, her voice tremulous and almost

-      inaudible.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I? No, I have just come; I am alone, and heard your song and forgot

-      everything else.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      To his surprise she came hurriedly forward out of the dusk, and stood

-      close to his side, looking fearfully over toward the night lights at the

-      bar, whence the sounds of Mexican voices could be heard.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Alone? You came here alone? O senor, ride on or ride back. Stay not here!

-      Not at the rancho! There are wicked men&mdash;not my father; not Pedro

-      Ruiz, but&mdash;there are others.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Is this true? Are you Pedro's daughter?&rdquo; queried the lieutenant,

-      evidently far more impressed with this fact than with her tidings. &ldquo;I

-      never knew he had a child like you, and I have been here often and have

-      never seen you.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;But I&mdash;have seen you, senor, when you were last here, and I saw you,

-      too, at the <i>cuartel</i> at Tucson. Do you know&mdash;do you remember

-      the day of the race?&rdquo; And her dark eyes were for one instant lifted

-      timidly to his.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Is this possible?&rdquo; he exclaimed, seizing her hand as it fell listlessly

-      by her side. &ldquo;Let me see your face. Surely I have heard your voice

-      before.&rdquo; But she shrank back, half timid, half capricious.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I must not; I must go, senor, and you&mdash;you must ride away.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      And now her eyes glanced half fearfully toward the house, then sought his

-      face in genuine anxiety. He had been fumbling in the pocket of his hunting

-      shirt, and suddenly drew forth a little silver case. The next instant,

-      while he held her wrist firmly with one hand, the brilliant flame of an

-      electric match flashed over her face and form.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0027.jpg" alt="0027 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0027.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh, senor,&rdquo; she cried, even when bowing her blushing face upon her bared

-      arm, &ldquo;this is madness! Put it out!&rdquo; Then, like a frightened deer, she went

-      bounding to the ranch, but not before he had recognized in her the pretty

-      Mexican girl with whom he had thrice danced at the <i>festa</i> at Tucson

-      and whose name he had vainly sought to learn. Nor did he again see her on

-      this visit. Nor did he hear again her voice. Returning with his men at

-      dawn, he began the day's investigations and had occasion to ask many

-      questions of old Pedro, who promptly answered that he well remembered the

-      sergeant and that the sergeant had drunk at his bar; had partaken of his

-      cheer; had stabled his horse at the corral; but that, after gambling with

-      &ldquo;los otros,&rdquo; men of whom he, Pedro, knew naught, the sergeant had gone on

-      his way. More he could not tell. He shrugged his shoulders and protested

-      his ignorance even of the names of the men with whom Dinsmore had gambled.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You enter my house, Senor Teniente. You ask for food, for drink. You pay.

-      You go. Ask I you your name&mdash;your home? No! Should I demand it of any

-      caballero who so come and go?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      And failing in extracting information from the master, Adriance sought the

-      hirelings and found them equally reticent. Shrewd frontiersmen and

-      campaigners in his little detachment were equally unsuccessful until

-      nearly night, when a brace of prospectors rode in and said they saw what

-      looked to be a human body over on a sand bar down the Gila. Then Pedro's

-      face had turned ashen gray, and one of his henchmen trembled violently.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Poor Dinsmore was given such soldier burial as his comrades could devise,

-      and Pedro, of his own accord, and with much reverential gravity of mien,

-      had graced the ceremony with his presence.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Every man of the cavalry detachment felt morally certain that Pedro Ruiz

-      knew far more than he would tell, but there was no way in which they could

-      proceed farther, and civil process was ineffectual in those days except in

-      the court of final jurisdiction of which Judge Lynch was sole presiding

-      officer.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Adriance rode away with a distinct sense of discomfiture at heart. What

-      business had he to feel baffled and chagrined at his failure to see that

-      girl again when the original object of his mission had been the discovery

-      of Dinsmore's fate? What right had he to wish to speak with the daughter

-      of the man whom he believed an accessory to the sergeant's murder? &ldquo;Do not

-      let them know you have seen me&rdquo; she had whispered ere she scurried away to

-      the ranch, and as neither mother nor daughter once appeared during the

-      presence of his escort about the corral, there seemed no way in which he

-      could open the subject.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Six months passed, during which period he had been sent to Tucson on

-      escort duty, and while there had sought and found some well-to-do Mexican

-      residents whom he remembered as being friends of the graceful girl who had

-      danced so delightfully with him at the <i>baile</i> only the year before.

-      From them he learned her name, Isabel, and something of her history. And

-      the very next scout down the Gila found him in command and eager to go,

-      and this very night, black and forbidding, that had settled down on Rancho

-      Ruiz after the arrival of Paymaster Sherrick and his train, who should

-      come riding noiselessly through the gloaming but Lieutenant Adriance

-      himself, as before, all alone.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Nearing the lights of the rancho and moving at slow and cautious walk, his

-      ears alert for every sound, the lieutenant became aware of the fact that

-      Roderick, his pet horse, was pricking up his own ears and showing vast

-      interest in some mysterious and unseen presence which they were steadily

-      approaching. Before he had got within two hundred yards of the dim light

-      of the house he caught sight of a lantern or two flitting about the

-      corral. Then Roderick quickened his nimble walk and began edging off to

-      the right front, where presently, against the low western sky, Adriance

-      could distinguish some object like a big covered wagon, and plainly heard

-      the pawing and snorting of a horse. Roderick evidently wanted to answer,

-      but the lieutenant reined him abruptly to the left, and veered away

-      southward.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Just now it was not the society of his fellow men he sought. A woman's

-      voice, one woman's at least, would have called him eagerly forward from

-      the darkness into the light of her waiting eyes. As it was, he made wide

-      circuit, and not until well to the south did he again approach the silent

-      walls of the corral. And now the wind, blowing toward him, brought with it

-      the sound of voices, and Adriance was suddenly warned that someone was

-      here, close at hand. Dismounting, the lieutenant slowly led his horse

-      toward the dark barrier before him, but not until he had softly traversed

-      the length of the southern wall did he become aware of other voices, low

-      toned and eager. Around the corner, on the western side, the dark forms of

-      a horseman and someone afoot were dimly defined, then a brief conversation

-      became audible:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0008" id="linkimage-0008"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0031.jpg" alt="0031 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0031.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0009" id="linkimage-0009"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0019.jpg" alt="0019 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0019.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You have no time to lose, Leon. Go softly until you are a mile away, then

-      ride like hell.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I understand, but the money?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;That shall be yours to-morrow&mdash;now skip.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The jingle of a Mexican spur, the soft thud of mustang hoofs upon the

-      yielding soil were heard a moment, and the horseman rode slowly away

-      southwestward, the broad stiff brim of his sombrero revealed against the

-      starry sky; then all was silence. The American, whoever he was, still

-      stood there. Adriance felt sure he had heard the voice before. As for the

-      horseman&mdash;Leon&mdash;that was the name he heard her speak the night

-      he surprised her in the little summer house. Who was Leon?

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0010" id="linkimage-0010"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0035.jpg" alt="0035 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0035.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      Presently the American turned and strolled slowly back toward the rancho.

-      Slipping Roderick's rein over the post at the angle, the lieutenant

-      followed. Keeping close to the wall, the stranger led the way, all

-      unconscious of pursuit or observation, yet when he reached the next

-      corner, whence could be seen the night lights of the rancho and the

-      far-away gleam of the camp fire, out toward the Gila, he stopped and

-      peered cautiously around.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Mindful of the evil fame that hung about the premises, Adriance halted too

-      and waited. The next moment his heart beat hard. A woman's voice&mdash;soft,

-      silvery and young&mdash;had accosted the stranger. It was Isabel's.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You have sent my brother away again, when he had but just returned. Why

-      is this, senor? Whither has he gone?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Never mind about Leon, Belita,&rdquo; said the American, soothingly, &ldquo;he's all

-      right. He has simply ridden over to let Captain Rawlins know of our

-      mishap.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;It is not true, senor! I heard him speak to my father. It is to Sancho

-      and to Manuel he rides, and for no good. To what new crime do you lead

-      him? Why are they all gone? Why are we alone here this night? Why&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Don't be a fool, girl,&rdquo; said the man curtly, as he took her by the wrist.

-      &ldquo;Come, Leon's gone. Come back to the house.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;He has not gone. He promised me he would not go from me without a word

-      to-night. The moment I saw you I knew that trouble would come, and I

-      warned him when he returned. You have made him wicked&mdash;you

-      Americanos. You are all&mdash;&mdash;'

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh, yes, all, even Teniente Adriance, Isabel. I heard all about you and

-      your affair with him. Have a care!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;No. He is good. It is not in him to make a gambler and a rover of my

-      brother.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;He would make worse of your brother's sister, you fool,&rdquo; the man

-      muttered, with brutal emphasis. &ldquo;Come now, no nonsense with that fellow;

-      he's as good as married already, I tell you; he is to be married in two

-      months.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh, it is not true!&rdquo; was the fiery answer. &ldquo;You lie!&rdquo; And then, with

-      feminine inconsequence, &ldquo;Who is she? Who does he marry?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;The Senorita Abert&mdash;a lovely girl, too, and rich&mdash;in San

-      Francisco.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yes, it is a lie, Staines, and you know it!&rdquo; came in cool and measured

-      tones, and Mr. Adriance suddenly stepped from the corner of the wall.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Staines dropped the captive's hand and recoiled a pace or two with a

-      stifled exclamation, half amaze, half dismay; then with sudden effort

-      strove to recover himself. &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he exclaimed, with a nervous laugh;

-      &ldquo;talk of angels and you hear the rustle, etc. Indeed, lieutenant, I beg

-      your pardon, though; I was merely joking with our little Mexican friend.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;That will do, Mr. Staines; I know a joke when I hear one. Wait here a

-      moment, if you please, for I want a word with you. Pardon me for startling

-      you, senorita. Will you take my arm?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The girl was trembling violently. With bowed head and fluttering heart she

-      leaned upon the trooper's arm and was slowly led away toward the rancho,

-      never seeming to note that the little brown hand that had been so firmly

-      taken and drawn within by his was still tightly clasped by that cavalry

-      gauntlet. The moment they were out of the earshot of Staines the

-      lieutenant bent down.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;It was to see you I came here, Isabel; I had hoped to find you at the

-      summer house. Come to me there in ten minutes, will you? I must see you

-      before I go. First, though, I have to investigate that fellow Staines.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh, I cannot! I dare not! I slipped away from my room because of Leon.

-      They will lead him into trouble again. Indeed, I must go back. I must go,

-      Senor Felipe.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You remember my name, then, little one!&rdquo; he laughed, delightedly. &ldquo;I have

-      been to Tucson since I saw you that blessed night, and I heard all about

-      you.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Hush, senor! It is my mother who calls. List! Let me go, sefior!&rdquo; for his

-      arm had suddenly stolen about her waist. &ldquo;Promise you will come&mdash;promise!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I dare not! O Felipe, no!&rdquo; she cried, for he had with quick impulse

-      folded her tightly in his strong embrace and his lips were seeking hers.

-      Struggling to avoid them she had hidden her face upon his breast.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Promise&mdash;quick!&rdquo; he whispered.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Ah, if I can&mdash;yes. Now let me go.&rdquo; His firm hand turned her glowing

-      face to his; his eager lips pressed one lingering kiss just at the corner

-      of her pretty mouth. She hurled herself from him then and bounded into the

-      darkness. An instant more and he heard the latch of the rear door click; a

-      stream of light shot out toward the corral and she was gone. Then slowly

-      he returned to the corner of the wall, fully expecting that Staines had

-      left. To his surprise, there was the clerk composedly awaiting him.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Where have you sent Leon Ruiz?&rdquo; was the stern question.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I do not recognize your right to speak to me in that tone, Mr. Adriance.

-      If you have nothing else to ask me&mdash;good night!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;By God, sir! I heard your whispered talk with him and I know there is

-      mischief afoot,&rdquo; said the lieutenant, as he strode after the retreating

-      form. &ldquo;This thing has got to be explained, and in the major's presence.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Staines halted, and lifting his hat with Castilian grace of manner bowed

-      profoundly to the angry officer. &ldquo;Permit me, sir, to conduct you to him.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      An hour later, baffled, puzzled, balked in his precious hopes, Mr.

-      Adriance returned to the bivouac of his little command. Major Sherrick had

-      promptly and fully confirmed the statement of his clerk. It was he who

-      told Mr. Staines to employ a ranchman to ride by night to Captain Rawlins,

-      and the mysterious caution that surrounded the proceedings was explained

-      by the fact that Pedro had refused his permission and that Leon had to be

-      bribed to disobey the paternal order. Adriance was dissatisfied and

-      suspicious, but what was there left for him to say?

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Then he had hastened to the summer house, and waited a whole hour, but

-      there came no Isabel. It was nearly 10 o'clock when he turned his horse

-      over to the care of the guard in a little clump of cottonwoods near the

-      Gila.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;We remain here to-morrow,&rdquo; he briefly told the sergeant. &ldquo;No need to wake

-      the men before 6.&rdquo; With that he went to the little wall tent, pitched for

-      his use some yards away.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      How long he slumbered Adriance could not tell. Ill at ease as to the

-      strange conduct of Staines, he had not slept well. Conscience, too, was

-      smiting him. Something in the tones of that girlish voice thrilled and

-      quivered through his memory. What right had he even to ask her to meet

-      him? What wrong had he not wrought in that one kiss?

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Somebody was fumbling at the fastening of the tent flap.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What is wanted, sergeant?&rdquo; he quickly hailed.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Open, quick!&rdquo; was the low-toned answer. &ldquo;Come to the door. No, no, bring

-      no light,&rdquo; was the breathless caution, as he struck a match.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Who is this?&rdquo; he demanded, with strange thrill at heart&mdash;something

-      in those tones he well knew&mdash;yet it could not be. A dim figure in

-      shrouding <i>serape</i> was crouching at the front tent pole as he threw

-      open the flap.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Good God! Isabel!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Si&mdash;&mdash; Yes. Hush, senor, no one must hear, no one must know

-      'twas I. Quick! Wake your men! Saddle! Ride hard till you catch the

-      paymaster! Never leave him till you are beyond Canyon del Muerto, and then

-      never come to the rancho again&mdash;never!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0011" id="linkimage-0011"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:15%;">

-      <img src="images/5039.jpg" alt="5039 " width="100%" /><br /><a

-      href="images/5039.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </div>

-    <h3>

-      SECOND CHAPTER

-    </h3>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0012" id="linkimage-0012"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0040.jpg" alt="0040 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0040.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0013" id="linkimage-0013"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="figleft" style="width:20%;">

-      <img src="images/9040.jpg" alt="9040 " width="100%" /><br /><a

-      href="images/9040.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </div>

-    <p>

-      HAT off mule of the paymaster's ambulance been a quadruped of wonderful

-      recuperative powers. She had gone nearly dead lame all the previous day,

-      and now at 5 o'clock on this breezy morning was trotting along as though

-      she had never known a twinge in her life. Mr. Staines was apparently

-      nonplussed. Acting on his advice, the paymaster had decided to break camp

-      soon after 2 o'clock, make coffee, and then start for Rawlins' camp at

-      once. He confidently expected to have to drag along at a slow walk, and

-      his idea was to get well through the Canyon del Muerto before the heat of

-      the day. The unexpected recovery of Jenny, however, enabled them to go

-      bowling ahead over the level flat, and at sunrise they were already in

-      sight of the northern entrance to the gorge. It was odd how early Mr.

-      Staines began to develop lively interest in the condition of that mule.

-      First he suggested to the driver that he was going too fast, and would

-      bring on that lameness again; but the driver replied that it was Jenny

-      herself who was doing most of the pulling. Then Staines became fearful

-      lest the cavalry escort should get exhausted by such steady trotting, and

-      ventured to say to Major Sherrick that they ought to rein up on their

-      account. Sherrick was eager to push ahead, and, like most other men not to

-      the manner born, never for a moment thought of such a thing as a horse's

-      getting used up by simply carrying a man-at-arms six hours at ceaseless

-      trot or lope. However, he knew that Staines was far more experienced in

-      such matters than he, and so could not disregard his advice.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0014" id="linkimage-0014"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="figright" style="width:20%;">

-      <img src="images/8041.jpg" alt="8041 " width="100%" /><br /><a

-      href="images/8041.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </div>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;How is it, sergeant, are we going too fast for you?&rdquo; he asked.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Not a bit of it, sir,&rdquo; was the cheery answer.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;We're glad enough to go lively now and rest all day in the shade.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You see how it is, Staines; they don't want to slack up speed. We'll get

-      to Rawlins' in time for breakfast at this rate,&rdquo; and again Staines was

-      silent. Presently the team began the ascent of a rolling wave of foothill,

-      around which the roadway twisted as only Arizona roadways can, and at the

-      crest the driver reined in to give his mules a &ldquo;breather.&rdquo; Staines leaped

-      from the ambulance for a stretch. The troopers promptly dismounted and

-      loosened saddle girths.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yonder is the mouth of the Canyon, sir,&rdquo; said the sergeant, pointing to a

-      rift in the range to the south, now gorgeously lighted up by the morning

-      sunshine.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;How long is the defile, sergeant?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Not more than four miles, sir&mdash;that is, the Canyon itself&mdash;but

-      it is crooked as a ram's horn, and the approach on the other side is a

-      long, winding valley.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;When were you there last?&rdquo; asked Staines.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;About six months ago, just after Dins-more was murdered.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Staines turned quickly away and strolled back a few yards along the road.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You knew Dinsmore, then?&rdquo; asked the paymaster.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I knew him well, sir. We had served together during the war. They said he

-      fell in love with a pretty Mexican girl at Tucson, and she would not

-      listen to him. Some of the men heard that she was a daughter of old Pedro

-      who keeps that ranch, and that it was hoping to see her that he went

-      there.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I know. I remember hearing about it all then,&rdquo; said the paymaster. &ldquo;Did

-      you ever see anything of the man who was said to have killed him?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Sonora Bill? No, sir; and I don't know anyone who ever did. He was always

-      spoken of as the chief of a gang of cutthroats and stage robbers down

-      around Tucson. They used to masquerade as Apaches sometimes&mdash;that's

-      the way they were never caught. The time they robbed Colonel Wood and

-      killed his clerk 'I' troop was scouting not ten miles away, and blessed if

-      some of the very gang didn't gallop to Lieutenant Breese and swear the

-      Apaches had attacked their camp here in Canyon del Muerto, so that when

-      the lieutenant was wanted to chase the thieves his troop couldn't be found

-      anywhere&mdash;he was 'way up here hunting for Apaches in the Maricopa

-      range. The queer thing about that gang was that they always knew just when

-      a paymaster's outfit or a Government officer with funds would be along. It

-      was those fellows that robbed Major Rounds, the quartermaster, and jumped

-      the stage when Lieutenant Spaulding and his wife were aboard. She had

-      beautiful diamonds that they were after, but the lieutenant fooled them&mdash;he

-      had them sent by express two days afterward.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Mr. Staines came back toward the ambulance at this moment, took a field

-      glass from its case, and retraced his steps along the road some twenty

-      yards. Here he adjusted the glass and looked long toward the northeast.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;All ready to start, sir,&rdquo; said the driver.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The major swung himself up to his seat; the troopers quietly &ldquo;sinched&rdquo;

-       their saddles and mounted, and still the clerk stood there absorbed.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Come, Staines!&rdquo; shouted the paymaster, impatiently, &ldquo;we're waiting for

-      you.&rdquo; And still he did not move. The sergeant whirled his horse about and

-      clattered back to where he stood.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Come, sir, the major's waiting.&rdquo; Staines turned abruptly and, silent as

-      ever, hurried to the wagon.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What were you staring at so long?&rdquo; said the paymaster, pettishly, as his

-      assistant clambered in. &ldquo;I shouted two or three times.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Staines' face was pale, yet there were drops of sweat upon his brow.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I thought I saw a party of horsemen out there on the flats.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;The devil!&rdquo; said the paymaster, with sudden interest. &ldquo;Where? Let me

-      look.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You can't see now, sir. Even the dust cloud is gone. They are behind that

-      low ridge some eight or ten miles out there in the valley.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Go on, driver, it's only cattle from the ranch or something of that kind.

-      I didn't know, by the way you looked and spoke, but that it might be some

-      of Sonora Bill's gang.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Hardly, sir; they haven't been heard of for a year, and once away from

-      Pedro's we are safe enough anyhow.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Half an hour later the four-mule team was winding slowly up a rocky path.

-      On both sides the heights were steep, covered with a thick undergrowth of

-      scrub oak and juniper. Here and there rocky cliffs jutted out from the

-      hillside and stood like sentinels along the way. The sergeant, with one

-      trooper, rode some distance ahead, their carbines &ldquo;advanced&rdquo; and ready for

-      use, for Edwards was an old campaigner, and, though he thought it far from

-      probable that any outlaws would be fools enough to attempt to &ldquo;get away

-      with&rdquo; a paymaster's bank when he and his five men were the guardians and

-      Captain Rawlins with his whole troop was but a short distance away, he had

-      learned the lesson of precaution. Major Sherrick, with his iron safe under

-      his own seat, grasped a rifle in both hands. The driver was whistling

-      softly to himself and glancing attentively ahead, for there was a

-      continuous outcrop of boulders all along the road. The remaining troopers,

-      four in number, rode close behind or alongside the wagon.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Presently they reached a point where, after turning a precipitous ledge of

-      rock, glistening in the morning sunshine, they saw before them a somewhat

-      steep incline. Here, without a word, Staines swung lightly from the

-      vehicle and trudged for a moment alongside; then he stooped to adjust his

-      boot lace, and when Sherrick looked back the clerk was coming jauntily

-      after them, only a dozen paces in rear. In this order they pushed ahead

-      perhaps a hundred yards farther, moving slowly up the defile, and Staines

-      could easily have regained his distance, but for some reason failed to do

-      so. Suddenly, and for no apparent cause, Jenny and her mate shied

-      violently, swerved completely around and were tangled up with the wheel

-      team before the driver could use the lash. Even his ready blasphemy failed

-      to straighten things out.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Look out for those rocks up there on the right!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;Grab their

-      heads, Billy!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Even as he spoke the rocky walls of the Canyon resounded with the crash of

-      a score of firearms. The driver, with a convulsive gasp, toppled forward

-      out of his seat, his hand still clinching the reins. One of the troopers

-      clapped his hand to his forehead, his reins falling useless upon his

-      horse's neck, and reeled in the saddle as his charger whirled about and

-      rushed, snorting with fright, down the narrow road. At the instant of the

-      firing the sound of a dozen &ldquo;spats&rdquo; told where the leaden missiles had

-      torn through the stiff canvas cover of the ambulance; and Sherrick, with

-      blanched face, leaped from the riddled vehicle and plunged heavily forward

-      upon his hands and knees. Two of the troopers sprang from their saddles,

-      and, crouching behind a boulder across the road, opened fire up the

-      opposite hillside. The sergeant and his comrade, bending low over their

-      horses' necks, came thundering back down the Canyon, just in time to see

-      the mules whirl about so suddenly as to throw the ambulance on its side.

-      The iron safe was hurled into the shallow ditch; the wagon bed dragged

-      across the prostrate form of the paymaster, rolling him over and over half

-      a dozen times, and then, with a wreck of canvas, splinters, chains and

-      traces clattering at their heels, the four mules went rattling away down

-      the gorge.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0015" id="linkimage-0015"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0047.jpg" alt="0047 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0047.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Jump for shelter, men!&rdquo; shouted Sergeant Edwards, as he dragged the

-      senseless form of the major under the great ledge to the right. &ldquo;Stand

-      them off as long as you can! Come out of your holes, you cowardly hounds!&rdquo;

-       he roared, shaking his fist at the smoke-wreathed rocks up the heights.

-      &ldquo;Come out and fight fair! There's only five of us left!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Here in the road lay the major, bleeding from cuts and bruises, with every

-      breath knocked out of his battered body; yonder, his hands 'clinched in

-      the death agony, the stiffening form of the driver&mdash;plucky to the

-      last. Twenty yards away down the road, all in a heap, lay one poor soldier

-      shot through the head, and now past praying for. One of the others was

-      bleeding from a gash along the cheek where a bullet had zipped its way,

-      and Edwards shouted in vain for Staines to join them; the clerk had

-      disappeared. For full five minutes the desperate combat was maintained;

-      the sergeant and his little squad crouching behind the nearest rocks and

-      firing whenever head or sombrero showed itself along the heights. Then

-      came shots from the rear, and another poor fellow was laid low, and

-      Edwards realized, to his despair, that the bandits were on every side, and

-      the result only a question of time.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      And then&mdash;then, there came a thunder of hoof beats, a storm of

-      ringing cheers, a rush and whirl of panting, foaming steeds and a score of

-      sunburnt, stalwart troopers racing in the lead of a tall young soldier,

-      whose voice rang clear above the tumult: &ldquo;Dismount! Up the rocks, men!

-      Lively now!&rdquo; And, springing from his own steed, leaping catlike from rock

-      to rock, Phil Adriance went tearing up the heights, his soldiers at his

-      heels. Edwards and his unwounded men seized and held the trembling horses;

-      Sherrick feebly crawled to his precious safe and fell across it, his arms

-      clasping about his iron charge. For five minutes more there was a clamor

-      of shots and shouts, once in a while a wild Mexican shriek for mercy, all

-      the tumult gradually receding in the distance, and at last&mdash;silence.

-      Then two men came down the bluffs, half bearing between them the limp form

-      of their young leader. The lieutenant was shot through both thighs and was

-      faint from loss of blood.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Has no one a little whiskey?&rdquo; asked Corporal Watts.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Here you are&rdquo; was the answer. And Mr. Staines, with very white face,

-      stepped down from behind the ledge and held out his flask.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      A week later the lieutenant lay convalescing at Rawlins' camp. A vigorous

-      constitution and the healthful, bracing, open-air life he had led for

-      several years, either in the saddle or tramping over the mountains, had

-      enabled him to triumph speedily over such minor ills as flesh wounds, even

-      though the loss of blood had been very great. The young soldier was soon

-      able to give full particulars of his chase, and to one man alone, Rawlins,

-      the secret of its inspiration.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Most important had been the results. It was evident to everyone who

-      examined the ground&mdash;and Rawlins had scoured the range with one

-      platoon of his troop that very afternoon after the fight, while his

-      lieutenant, Mr. Lane, was chasing the fugitives with another&mdash;that a

-      band of at least twenty outlaws had been concealed among the rocks of

-      Canyon del Muerto for two or three days, evidently for the purpose of

-      waylaying the escort of the paymaster when he came along. Their horses had

-      been concealed half a mile away in a deep ravine, and it was in trying to

-      escape to them that they had sustained their losses. Five of their number

-      were shot down in full flight by Adri-ance's men, and, could they have

-      caught the others, no quarter would have been given, for the men were

-      infuriated by the sight of the havoc the robbers had wrought, and by the

-      shooting of their favorite officer.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0016" id="linkimage-0016"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0052.jpg" alt="0052 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0052.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      No papers had been found on the bodies; nothing, in fact, to identify them

-      with any band. All, with one exception, were Mexicans; he was a white man

-      whom none of the troopers could identify, though Corporal Watts, of Troop

-      B, declared he had seen him at &ldquo;Cutthroat Crossing&rdquo; the last time he went

-      through there on escort duty. The others, whoever they were, rode in a

-      body until they got around the range to the southward, then seemed to

-      scatter over the face of the earth. Some odd things had transpired, over

-      which Rawlins pondered not a little. It was Corporal Watts who brought to

-      his camp at 11 o'clock the news of the desperate attempt to murder and rob

-      the paymaster, and as they rode back together the corporal gave the

-      captain such information as lay in his power. Lieutenant Adriance had

-      &ldquo;routed out&rdquo; the detachment just at daybreak, when it was still dark, and

-      saddling with the utmost haste had led away across country for the canyon,

-      leaving the pack mules and a small guard at camp. &ldquo;We rode like the wind,&rdquo;

-       said Watts, &ldquo;after the first few miles, and every man seemed to know just

-      what to expect when at last we struck the road and saw the trail of the

-      ambulance and escort. We got there just in the nick of time.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      When Sherrick&mdash;who though severely battered and bruised had no bones

-      broken&mdash;was able to talk at all, he never could say enough in praise

-      of Adriance and his men; but what he wanted to know was how they came to

-      learn of the threatened danger. Captain Rawlins protested that it was

-      &ldquo;past finding out.&rdquo; The major questioned the men, but without success, and

-      as for Staines, it was remarked that his pertinacity in cross-examination

-      was simply wonderful. For some reason, however, the men of B troop did not

-      like the fellow and would have little to do with him. But up to the time

-      that Major Sherrick was able to push ahead for Tucson it is certain that

-      he had discovered nothing as to the source of the lieutenant's

-      information; neither had they heard of Leon Ruiz, the night messenger.

-      Staines opined that he must have been intercepted by the bandits, perhaps

-      killed by them, when it was found that he was the bearer of a message to

-      Captain Rawlins. After a brief chat with the lieutenant himself, one which

-      the doctor did not interdict, the old troop commander sent a trusty

-      sergeant with six men to scout the neighborhood of the rancho.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Lieutenant Lane was detached to take command of Adriance's troop, which

-      was sent on its way forthwith, leaving the gloomy rancho alone to sentinel

-      the Gila crossing. But the moment Sherrick and his silent clerk drove on

-      toward Tucson the old captain said a few words of farewell to the invalid,

-      left him in the doctor's charge and rode away northward on the trail of

-      his sergeant. That night he rapped for admission and ordered supper at

-      Rancho Ruiz, while his men, strolling about the premises, took careful

-      note of the three or four scowling &ldquo;greasers&rdquo; who infested the corral.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Adriance was sitting up and beginning to hobble around when Rawlins

-      returned to camp during the week that followed, and was all eagerness to

-      hear what tidings the captain had to tell. But Rawlins had little to say;

-      he had seen Pedro and had had one glimpse of Senora Dolores, but not so

-      much as a word with the senorita; she was kept carefully concealed. Within

-      the month Adriance was quite well enough to travel to his station, but

-      refused. He would remain here, he said, until able to relieve Lane of the

-      command of his troop and continue the scouting work. He did not wish to go

-      to the fort. Sherrick and his clerk had come back in the course of a

-      fortnight, and Mr. Staines asked to see Lieutenant Adriance, but that

-      gentleman refused&mdash;a matter which caused the clerk to &ldquo;bite his lips

-      and look queer,&rdquo; reported the soldier who took the message, but he said

-      nothing at all.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Ten days afterward a Prescott paper mentioned the fact that Mr. Albert G.

-      Staines, so long and favorably known in this Territory, had dropped in to

-      look over valuable mining properties in the Big Bug and Hassayampa

-      districts; and this Rawlins silently showed to Adriance.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Then you may be sure he'll come down to the rancho, and in less than no

-      time,&rdquo; said Adriance, &ldquo;and I must go.&rdquo; Rawlins made no reply at first,

-      then he rose and nervously paced the floor a moment and turned upon his

-      junior.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Philip, I say no!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The color mounted to the lieutenant's

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Ask yourself; ask your conscience, Adriance. You have told her that he,

-      Staines, was a liar. You have virtually told her that you were engaged to

-      no woman. You have inspired a sentiment, perhaps a passion, in that young

-      girl's heart, and you're going there to defend her&mdash;a thing that I

-      can do much better than you, now that you are a cripple. Then, think, my

-      boy, I have known you six years; I have never known you to say or do a

-      mean or unmanly thing. I'm an old fogy&mdash;an old fool perhaps&mdash;but

-      I like to think most women pure and some men honest. You are one of them,

-      Phil.&rdquo; There was a moment's silence.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;And yet you think I mean her harm.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Not yet, Philip, but would you marry that old scoundrel's daughter?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Adriance had no answer.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Philip, if you look into that girl's eyes again, unless it be to ask her

-      to be your wife, I shall lose my faith in manly honor.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Two days afterward Rawlins rode away on duty. A strange unrest had

-      possessed the lieutenant since that brief talk with this old Puritan of a

-      captain. Not another word had been said upon the subject, but every

-      syllable that Rawlins spoke had struck home. Adriance respected and

-      honored the grim, duty-loving troop commander whom some of the youngsters

-      openly laughed at and referred to as &ldquo;Praise the Lord Barebones&rdquo; and

-      &ldquo;Captain Roundhead,&rdquo; but the lieutenant well knew that no braver soldier,

-      no &ldquo;squar-er&rdquo; captain drew sabre in the whole regiment than this faithful

-      friend, who had long since singled him out for many an unusual kindness.

-      He knew more&mdash;that in his high standard of honor and rectitude old

-      Rawlins had said nothing which was not just and true.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Adriance knew well that he ought not to again seek that young girl's

-      presence, and the blood rushed hotly to his cheek as he recalled the kiss

-      his eager lips had stolen. Marry that old scoundrel's daughter? No, he

-      could not; and yet how his pulses bounded at the thought of her&mdash;the

-      sweet, shy gladness in her eyes, the soft, thrilling tones in her voice

-      when she spoke his name, the heroism of her conduct in daring to seek his

-      camp in the darkness of night and bring him warning of that diabolical

-      scheme of robbery and murder; the refinement of her manner, and then, too,

-      her knowledge of the English tongue. Where had she acquired these? What

-      would she not be justified in thinking of him if he never came to seek and

-      thank her?

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Hello! what's that?&rdquo; was the sudden cry among the men. Two or three

-      soldiers sat up in the shade and curiously inspected the coming object;

-      others shouted laughing challenge. Riding solemnly forward, a little

-      Mexican boy came straight to where Adriance was lying and handed him a

-      note which he eagerly opened and read:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <i>They suspect me, and they send me away tomorrow. To-night I go for the

-      last time to the summer house alone. Isabel.</i>

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Gone was every resolution at the instant; gone all hesitancy. Adriance had

-      not even time to wonder at the fact that she had written to him in

-      English. Leaving the note for Rawlins to read when he returned, in one

-      hour Phil was rolling from the camp in the ambulance. Soon after dark,

-      leaving Private Regan and another man half a mile back from the walls of

-      the corral, Mr. Adriance, all alone, slowly made his way afoot toward the

-      dim lights at the rancho. Making wide circuit so as not to alarm the dogs,

-      he never sought to draw near the little summer house until, from the east,

-      he could see the brighter lights that gleamed in the bar and card room.

-      Then he cautiously approached, his heart beating quickly and his knees

-      trembling a little, perhaps from weakness. Hark! Faint, soft and clear,

-      there rose upon the evening air the liquid notes of a guitar. It was she

-      then&mdash;it was Isabel awaiting his coming, aye, signaling softly to

-      call him to her. What could it mean but that she loved and longed to see

-      him? A moment more and he was at the doorway, the very spot where he had

-      surprised her that well-remembered night. The plaintive tinkle of the

-      guitar continued, and there in the dark corner was the dim, white-robed

-      form. He could almost distinguish the folds of the graceful <i>rebosa</i>.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Isabel!&rdquo; he whispered. Three more steps and he would be at her side.

-      Suddenly two stalwart arms were thrown about him, a broad hand was on his

-      mouth, stifling the utterance of a sound; the white-robed form in front

-      leaped toward him, the <i>rebosa</i> falling to the ground. It was a man's

-      voice&mdash;a Mexican's&mdash;that hissed the word's: &ldquo;Quick! the pistol.&rdquo;

-       Another hand was at his holster. He realized instantly that he was lured,

-      trapped; that his life was threatened. He was struggling violently, but,

-      weakened by his wound, even his superb physique was well nigh powerless in

-      the grasp of two or three men. Suddenly there came a whisper: &ldquo;The sponge,

-      the sponge!&rdquo; and then the subtle odor of chloroform on the night air. And

-      now he nerved himself for one supreme effort. A quick twist of his head

-      and the hand was dislodged, a finger slipping between his teeth. With all

-      his strength he crushed it to the very bone, and there was a yell of pain

-      and terror. Then his own brave young voice rang out in one startling,

-      rallying cry.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Help! Regan, help!&rdquo; Then crash and blows, the gleam of a knife, a

-      rolling, rough-and-tumble struggle on the ground; then a woman's scream, a

-      light, and Isabel had bounded into their midst, her mother at her back.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Leon, my brother! In God's name, what do you mean?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Even as she spoke her startled eyes fell on Adriance, staggering to his

-      feet, pale, bleeding, faint. Another instant and he went crashing back

-      against the guitar that, like siren's song, had lured him. One brave leap

-      and she was at his side, her arms about his neck, his pallid face pillowed

-      on her bosom.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Senora Dolores flew to her aid; then turning, holding her lantern on high,

-      her shrill voice rang out in fury:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Look at the monstrous work your son has wrought, Pedro Ruiz! Look! Tear

-      off that mantle, senor!&rdquo; she said, whirling upon another form now slowly

-      rising from the earth. &ldquo;Coward! murderer that you are! It is you who have

-      ruined this boy and made him what he is!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Hush! You fool! there lies your daughter's betrayer. Leon would have been

-      coward indeed if he had not punished him.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh, you lie! She never saw him alone in her life!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Ask your son,&rdquo; was the sneering answer. &ldquo;Ask José, too.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;She was with him&mdash;in his tent&mdash;the last night he was here; I

-      swear it!&rdquo; cried José.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Mother,&rdquo; cried the girl, &ldquo;listen, it was but to warn him&mdash;I heard

-      the plot&mdash;I heard all. I rushed to him only to tell him of the

-      danger. Mother, believe me. And I dare not tell it even to you, for fear&mdash;for

-      fear of him.&rdquo; And she pointed to the fierce, scowling face of the old

-      Mexican, now striding forward, knife in hand.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;No, Pedro&mdash;back! You shall not harm her! No!&rdquo; and the mother hurled

-      herself before her husband.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Out of the way!&rdquo; was the hissing answer, &ldquo;or you, too, feel my knife. Ah,

-      traitress!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;O my God! help! There will be murder here! Pedro, husband! O, villain,

-      she is not your child! You shall not kill!&rdquo; And then a piercing shriek

-      rang out upon the night. But at the same instant there came the rush of

-      hoofs without&mdash;a rush of panting men; a brawny trooper sprang into

-      the summer house and with one blow of his revolver butt sent Pedro

-      staggering into a corner, his knife falling from his nerveless hand. A

-      dark, agile figure leaped for the doorway, with muttered curse. And then

-      in came old Rawlins, somewhat &ldquo;blown,&rdquo; but preternaturally cool, and the

-      doctor close behind.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Bring another light here, one of you men!&rdquo; And a trooper ran to the card

-      room. &ldquo;Lie still there, Pedro! Blow his brains out if he moves! Doctor,

-      you look to the women and Adriance. Now, where's that man Staines?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Some fellow ran in through here, captain,&rdquo; said a trooper. &ldquo;Corporal

-      Watts is after him with Royce.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Who was it, you greaser? Speak, damn you! You were here with him!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Sonora Bill,&rdquo; said José, shaking from head to foot.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Then there came the sound of pistol shots out toward the corral, and then

-      the louder bang of a cavalry carbine.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo; asked Rawlins of a soldier who came running back.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0017" id="linkimage-0017"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0061.jpg" alt="0061 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0061.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Can we have the doctor, sir? It was Mr. Staines. He shot the corporal,

-      who was chasing him, but he got a carbine bullet through the heart.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Four days afterward, lying in a little white room, Mr. Adriance listened

-      to the story of Leon's confession. It was brief enough. Staines had

-      acquired an ascendency over him in Tucson, and it was not difficult to

-      induce him to become a confederate in every plot. It was Staines who sent

-      him to Manuel and Garcia to warn them that the paymaster's ambulance would

-      not reach Canyon del Muerto until morning. It was Staines who murdered

-      Sergeant Dinsmore after a quarrel and then had had his throat cut and the

-      body thrown into the Gila near the ranch. Staines had fallen in love with

-      Isabel when she first came from Sonora, but the girl shrank from him;

-      neither would she listen to Sergeant Dinsmore.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      After it was safe for Leon to return to the ranch, he found that his

-      mother and Isabel were practically prisoners. His father was furious at

-      the failure of the plan, and daily accused his wife of having, in some

-      way, given warning to Adriance, and swore that he would have the blood of

-      the man or woman who had betrayed the scheme; and then Staines himself

-      came back and wrung from José that he had seen Isabel scurrying from

-      Adri-ance's tent at daybreak, and so denounced her to Leon as the mistress

-      of an accursed Gringo. Staines wrote the note that was to lure Adriance to

-      the bower, where Leon was to take the guitar and <i>rebosa</i> and the

-      two, with José's help, were to overpower him. It was his life or theirs

-      said Staines. Pedro was not in the project, for he had prohibited

-      bloodshed about the place&mdash;&ldquo;It would ruin his business&rdquo; he said. But

-      both Pedro and Leon were now in irons, and Rawlins' troop was in camp

-      around gloomy old Rancho Ruiz.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0018" id="linkimage-0018"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0063.jpg" alt="0063 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0063.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      A day or two later he heard another story, this time from the lips of

-      Senora Dolores herself: Isabel was not the daughter of Pedro Ruiz.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      With sobs and tears the poor, broken woman told her tale. She had been

-      married when quite a young girl to Senor Moreno, an officer of distinction

-      in the Mexican army. Her brave husband made her life a happy one, and the

-      birth of the little daughter strengthened the ties that bound them. Alas!

-      Moreno, colonel of lancers, was killed before Queretaro; and in two years

-      more the widow, with her winsome little girl, had not where to lay her

-      head. It was in the city of Mexico that Senora Dolores then met Ruiz, a

-      widower with an only son, prosperous and apparently respected. He promised

-      to educate Isabel and provide for her as his own, and sought the widow as

-      his wife. For a time all went well; then she learned his true character.

-      He was compelled to leave the city and flee up the coast to Mazatlan,

-      while she remained with little Isabel, who was being educated at the

-      convent. At last they had to join him at Hermosillo, whence he was soon

-      after driven to Tucson. Their lives were wrecked by his scoundrelism. Her

-      papers clearly established the truth of her story.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      One soft, still evening, not a week after the tragic events of that rueful

-      night, Captain Rawlins sat by the lieutenant's side, reading aloud some

-      letters just received from department headquarters. Major Sherrick had

-      been in a state of dismay ever since the news of the death of Staines had

-      reached him, but his dismay changed to wonderment, even gratitude, as he

-      learned the true character of the man. It was Sonora Bill himself, beyond

-      doubt.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What a blessing you left that note for me to see!&rdquo; said Rawlins. &ldquo;How

-      came it you never saw it was a forgery, Phil? Had she never written to you

-      before?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Never a line, nor have I seen her to thank her. By Heaven, Rawlins! why

-      am I forbidden?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You are not&mdash;now, Phil,&rdquo; was the smiling answer.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Perhaps an hour later, Adriance limped slowly out of the room and down the

-      narrow passageway to the side door. Yonder stood the little summer house

-      &ldquo;in the gloaming,&rdquo; and he was right&mdash;he had heard women's voices

-      there&mdash;Dolores and her daughter. There were tears in the maiden's

-      words, and he could not withstand the longing of his heart. He would have

-      hobbled thither, but suddenly there came the sound of rustling skirt and a

-      tiny footfall. It was she&mdash;his dark-eyed, dark-haired sweetheart,

-      hastening toward him, her face hidden in her hands. One instant more and

-      he had torn the hands away and had clasped her to his breast.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Isabel! darling! I have found you at last! No, you shall not go&mdash;you

-      shall not until you promise&mdash;promise to be my wife!

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;O, senor, you cannot&mdash;you do not mean it,&rdquo; she sobbed, Struggling to

-      be free.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Do not mean it! Why, sweet one, you do not dream how I love you&mdash;how

-      I long for you! Not mean it? Isabel, look in my eyes. Look for yourself.&rdquo;

-       He laughed low and happily. He was brimming over with hope and gladness,

-      for now at last without a struggle she nestled on his heart.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Despite his grizzled beard old Rawlins was best man when that strange,

-      very quiet, yet very happy wedding came off in the Old Mission Church at

-      Tucson early in the spring. Pedro was not there to give the bride away.

-      With considerable escort and much reluctance he had traversed &ldquo;Cutthroat

-      Crossing&rdquo; some months before. He went to Yavapai, and Yavapai&mdash;we

-      have his own words for it&mdash;was &ldquo;too damn close to 'ell.&rdquo; The rancho

-      passed within the year to other hands. It, too, had taken on another name&mdash;a

-      grewsome one&mdash;<i>Rancho del Muerto</i>.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div style="height: 4em;">

-      <br /><br /><br /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h2>

-      A MIGHTY HUNTER BEFORE THE LORD, By Virginius Dabney.

-    </h2>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0019" id="linkimage-0019"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0066.jpg" alt="0066 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0066.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <h3>

-      FIRST PART

-    </h3>

-    <p class="pfirst">

-      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE man

-      unacquainted with the joys of the chase would be surprised if told, as he

-      sauntered through some city market, that there was far more pleasure in

-      hunting those plump little brown birds hanging in bunches around the

-      stalls than in pursuing that imposing beast whose antlers reach the

-      pavement. Yet it would be true.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Deer hunting under its usual conditions leaves something, often much, to

-      be desired. If a dozen men are placed on isolated &ldquo;stands&rdquo; the solitary

-      hours of waiting are long and weary. And should you happen to be a tyro

-      the knowing ones hide you away in some unlikely spot, where hardly by any

-      possibility will the chance come to you of seeing and, in the shivers of

-      &ldquo;buck ague,&rdquo; missing the game. &ldquo;Still hunting,&rdquo; another mode, is well

-      named. As a rule it may be depended upon to afford no end of stillness,

-      and little else. And to be rowed up by a hired guide on a lake to within a

-      few feet of a poor, helpless buck, swimming for dear life, and blow out

-      his brains is almost as bad as shooting pheasants in an English preserve

-      or poultry in a barnyard. Under all these methods deer hunting lacks what

-      is the conspicuous charm of partridge (quail) shooting&mdash;vivid and

-      continuous excitement.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      For, from the moment when you enter, on a sparkling autumn morning, a

-      brown stubble field, fresh of limb and eager for the fray, till you limp

-      back at sunset, wolfish for dinner, and broken with a delicious fatigue,

-      you have not had one dull moment. You may not have been firing steadily;

-      the birds may even have been a little scarce; but every instant of the

-      day, as you have watched your dogs sweeping to and fro, you have been

-      buoyed up by an ever lively hope that the next moment your heart will be

-      gladdened by seeing them halt&mdash;frozen as it were&mdash;in their

-      tracks. Ah, there they are! You hurry up, you and your friend, breathing

-      short. Up bursts the brown covey, with startling buzz! You bang away&mdash;innocuously

-      it may be, but no matter, you have made a prodigious noise, at any rate&mdash;that's

-      some comfort. And see now! The little brown balls have dropped into the

-      weeds, one here, one there, along the ditch, and a little bunch, all

-      together, in that clump of briars on the hillside. Better luck next time!

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Still, after all, &ldquo;Bob White,&rdquo; for all his bustle, is but a small chap. It

-      would take hundreds, nay, bushels of him, to outweigh one &ldquo;antlered

-      monarch.&rdquo; Toothsome though he be (on toast) he tips the scales at a

-      beggarly half pound. On the other hand, it often takes you a week or so to

-      get one chance at a deer.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Now, it so happens that it was once my fortune to take part in a deer

-      hunt, where the excitement was as continuous as that in a stubble field,

-      and, naturally, far more intense. This was years ago, and in Scott County,

-      Mississippi, two days' journey on horseback from our plantation.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Every November, as a child, I had eagerly hailed the return from the camp

-      hunt of the big four-mule wagon, laden with tents, cooking utensils and

-      provisions, and upon which were piled high the noble bucks and sleek does.

-      At last, when I had reached the age of sixteen, the longed-for permission

-      was granted me, and one crisp, frosty morning my father and I mounted our

-      horses and set out for Scott County, followed by Beverly and the great

-      covered wagon. Both Beverly and Ned, his whitish-gray saddle mule, had

-      their peculiarities, as will appear later.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      As we journeyed on we were joined at successive cross roads by others of

-      our hunting party, and when we reached the ground we numbered, with those

-      already arrived by other routes, about fifteen. The tents were soon

-      pitched and a roaring fire of logs six feet long was sending up its merry

-      sparks into the starry vault above us. Would supper never be ready?

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Meanwhile the tents flashed in the fire light, the ruddy glow of which

-      battled with the hosts of darkness that advanced upon us under cover of

-      the primeval, mysterious forest that surrounded us far and wide. And that

-      forest teeming with deer and wolves. Oh, how delightful! And my Latin

-      grammar miles and miles away! And dust accumulating on my arithmetic!

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Why, where is Billy?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Detained by business; he will join us in a day or two.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Good! A hunt without Billy Blount is no hunt at all.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      At the mere mention of his name every eye brightened. Mr. Blount had more

-      than one peculiarity, all of them pleasant. He was just one of those

-      mortals whom mothers in their fatuity christen William. If ever there was

-      a man born with an inalienable right to be called Billy it was he. A

-      stranger meeting him in the road would know by intuition that that was his

-      name. His twinkling eye suggested it. His ruddy brown dimpled cheek, his

-      breadth of smile proclaimed it, and when he laughed every well-lined rib

-      shouted aloud, &ldquo;Our name is Billy!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      But he was not with us; so the next best thing was to tell stories of his

-      exploits. To these I listened with wide-eyed delight. I will give one as a

-      sample. But that it may be understood, it will be necessary to show

-      beforehand the very unusual method of hunting that obtained in Scott

-      County.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      That portion of Mississippi was in those days almost uninhabited and was

-      covered by a forest&mdash;it would be almost correct to call it a grove&mdash;of

-      post oaks, beneath which grew waist high underbrush. The oaks which

-      covered the ground almost to the exclusion of other trees stood so far

-      apart that one had an outlook of perhaps a couple of hundred yards in

-      every direction, so that a good rider could gallop in comfort along the

-      open spaces. This tree bears a small but sweet nutritious acorn; hence the

-      great store of deer that frequented these forests.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Such being the nature of the ground the chase is conducted as follows: The

-      hunters throw themselves into a skirmish line at intervals of sixty or

-      eighty yards. In the centre rides the leader of the hunt with a compass

-      fixed upon the pommel of his saddle. The line advances through the woods

-      due north, let us say, for a few hours; then wheels at right angle and

-      moves east; then south, then west&mdash;back to camp, venison steaks and

-      wild turkey; for, in the interests of better fare, it was permitted to

-      knock over a gobbler if he were too hospitably saucy to get out of the

-      way. The deer were not equally abundant year after year. Occasionally it

-      was found that &ldquo;black tongue&rdquo; had worked havoc among them since the

-      preceding hunt. But they were always numerous enough to maintain a

-      continuous and intense glow of expectation in the breast of every hunter.

-      As a rule you rode straight ahead, swerving neither to the right nor the

-      left, every nerve on the alert, from sunrise till' sunset. But if you saw

-      a little out of your path an upturned tree you bent your course toward it,

-      your heart in your mouth. I have known as many as seven deer to bound

-      forth from the brown-leaved &ldquo;lap&rdquo; of one fallen oak. But at any moment

-      during the day you were liable to be startled by a buck springing up out

-      of the undergrowth, often from beneath the very feet of your horse.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Only an inexperienced hunter would ask: &ldquo;Why not shoot them where they

-      lie?&rdquo; You do not know they are there. The detective eye that can make out

-      the form of a deer crouched down on a bed of brown leaves and veiled with

-      a fringe of underbrush is given to few. Among these favored ones was our

-      friend Billy. It was generally believed in camp that he shot most of his

-      game in their beds. Billy himself was at no pains, of course, to spread

-      this view. In his highly-illustrated accounts of his achievements the

-      quarry was always going like the wind; he had not been sure, in fact, what

-      he fired at; he saw a brown flash, that was all; banged away, and down

-      came that thumping buck. Never was so surprised in his life; thought it

-      was a hawk or something. But this is the story of Mr. Jennings, brother of

-      the leader of the hunt: &ldquo;Blount rides on my right, and I don't know how I

-      shall get on without him, even for a day or two. However, I may live

-      longer if he is not there, for he sows his buckshot broadcast. Three years

-      ago&mdash;I never knew the deer so thick as they were that season&mdash;happening

-      to look in his direction, I saw him dismounting with an agility that was

-      surprising considering his 225 pounds. He halted me with an eager wave of

-      his hand and began advancing on tiptoe; every fibre of his vast form

-      tense, his eyes riveted upon some object in front, finger on trigger.

-      Barely had he crept forward ten yards when up sprang a buck hardly twenty

-      feet in front of him and darted to the rear, between Blount and me.

-      Instantly, without once removing his eyes from the game upon which he was

-      stealing, he whirled his gun to the right and pulled the trigger. The buck

-      passed on, while twigs and bark rained on me from the whizzing buckshot.

-      Would you believe it?&mdash;but you all know him&mdash;not a moment did he

-      halt or once remove his eyes from whatever it was that had fascinated his

-      gaze in front. He still danced forward, light as an Indian, with eyes

-      starting from their sockets. Presently up jumps a doe. She, too, bounded

-      to the rear, but on Blount's left this time. Again, with his staring eyes

-      still glued to the something in front&mdash;bang! 'What in the &mdash;&mdash;&mdash;

-      are you about?' roared Parrish from Blount's left; 'you will be shooting

-      somebody the first thing you know. Here is one of your crazy shot through

-      my hat.' To all which our wild man paid not the least attention.

-      'Jennings! Jennings! come here! come here! come here! quick! quick! quick!

-      For God's sake, man, hurry!'

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I dismounted and ran up to him. 'There! there! give it to him! Good Lord,

-      man, can't you see him? There, in that lap!' I strained my eyes in vain. I

-      could see nothing. 'Why, don't you see him turning his head? He is looking

-      at us! My Lord, Jennings, gimme the gun! gimme the gun! gimme the gun!'

-      Just as I did so a noble buck sprang from the lap and bounded off. Blount

-      drew down upon him. Bound after bound, and still Blount did not fire,

-      though he seemed to be pulling away for dear life at the triggers.

-      Presently the deer, passing behind a clump of trees, disappeared. I

-      carried my gun at half cock. This Blount did not know or remember. He bent

-      both my triggers. Any other man might very well have bagged all three deer

-      with such a chance. And what do you suppose he then said? 'At any rate, I

-      laid out two of the rascals. Come, Jennings, help me find 'em.'&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Dogs were not used on these hunts. Two or three trusty old hounds, it is

-      true, hung about the heels of our leader's horse, but they were employed

-      only in running down badly-wounded animals. For the first day or so these

-      dogs were hard to control, so rich was the scent that met their nostrils

-      at every turn; but after the third day they grew too <i>blasé</i> to take

-      any interest in any trail not sprinkled with blood. We had a number of

-      horn signals. If a gun was heard, followed by a long blast (every man wore

-      a horn), the line halted. A deer had been killed in its tracks. A second

-      blast indicated that the quarry had been strapped behind the saddle of the

-      lucky man; and once more the line moved forward. But if three or four

-      short, excited toots, mingled with shouts, rang out upon the frosty air, a

-      wounded deer was being pursued, and the leader of the hunt galloped up,

-      followed by his little pack, who soon pulled down the game.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      After all my boasting about the abundance of deer in these post-oak

-      forests the reader is, I dare say, prepared to learn that with a party of

-      fifteen the spoil of a ten-days hunt would be one thousand head at the

-      very least. Great will be his surprise therefore to learn that at the

-      close of our first day's hunt we returned to camp without one solitary

-      buck or doe to show to our disgusted cooks. Never had the game been so

-      scarce, and yet not a man of us all had the same loads in his gun with

-      which he had sallied gaily forth full of hope in the morning. One fine

-      buck alone had emptied just thirty barrels for us. Flushed on the extreme

-      right, he had bounded along in front of the whole line, a trifle out of

-      range, perhaps, and each one of us had given him a roaring double salute.

-      As the rolling thunder approached me I almost ceased to breathe. What were

-      conjugations and declensions and rules of three compared with this! It was

-      like a battle, as I have since discovered, with the notable difference

-      that our side made all the noise, and the deer did not shoot back. But

-      none of us had been able, in the language of Mr. Sam Weller's Dick Turpin

-      ditty, to &ldquo;prewail upon him for to stop.&rdquo; Other shots at other deer all of

-      us had, but we supped on bacon that evening.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0020" id="linkimage-0020"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0075.jpg" alt="0075 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0075.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <h3>

-      SECOND PART

-    </h3>

-    <p class="pfirst">

-      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">O</span>NE who has never

-      tried the experiment can have no idea how easy it is to miss when firing

-      from horseback at a buck who sends your heart up into your mouth by

-      springing up from beneath your horse's heels, and then speeds away,

-      twisting and turning among the boles of the trees. Men who could bring

-      down a partridge with each barrel have been known to shoot away half a bag

-      of shot before they began to get the hang of the thing.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The shades of evening were falling. Humiliating though it was, we had

-      fallen, too, with a will on our gameless supper.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;S-t! Listen! What's that?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      We pricked up our ears. Presently there came softly echoing from far away

-      in the forest a long-drawn cry, ringing, melodious, clear as a bugle call.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Billy!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The welkin rang with our joyous shouts. Half our party sprang to their

-      feet and red-hot coffee splashed from tin cups. &ldquo;Hurrah!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Marse Billy got the keenest holler I ever hear!&rdquo; chuckled Beverly. &ldquo;Bound

-      he fetch luck 'long wid him! No mo' bacon for supper arter dis.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      We craned our necks to catch the first glimpse of our mascot. Obviously,

-      from the direction of the joyous yells with which he answered our

-      welcoming shouts, he had abandoned the road and was riding straight

-      through the open woods. Presently we descried through the deepening

-      twilight his portly form looming up atop a tall gray. Then two vivid

-      flashes and two loud reports, followed by a mad rush of the gray, which

-      came tearing down on us in wild terror, and for a minute we were treated

-      to something like an amateur episode from one of Mr. Buffalo Bill's

-      entertainments. Amid roars of laughing welcome the ponderous knight was at

-      last helped down from his trembling steed, whose bridle Beverly had been

-      able luckily to snatch as he floundered among the tent ropes.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;And where the deuce did you pick up that wild beast? Surely you can't

-      expect to shoot from him!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh, I'll cool him down in a day or two; he'll soon get used to it.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      In point of fact a horse who dreads a gun gets more and more terror

-      stricken as the hunt goes on, the mere sight of a deer, the cocking of a

-      gun even, sufficing to set him off into plungings that grow day by day

-      more violent. This none should have known better than Blount; for never,

-      by any chance, did he ride to the hunt with an animal that would &ldquo;stand

-      fire.&rdquo; The discharge of his gun, the rise of a buck even, was always the

-      opening of a circus with him. But he managed invariably to let off both

-      barrels&mdash;one perhaps through the tree tops, the other into the

-      ground. In one particular alone was he provident. He brought always so

-      immense a supply of ammunition that toward the close of the hunt his tent

-      was a supply magazine to the less thoughtful.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What!&rdquo; exclaimed Blount, &ldquo;not a single one! Ah! boys, that was because I

-      was not with you.&rdquo; The jovial soul had not a trace of conceit; he was

-      merely sanguine&mdash;contagiously, gloriously, magnificently sanguine.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Ah, but won't we knock 'em over tomorrow!&rdquo; And straightway we lifted up

-      our hearts and had faith in this prophet of pleasant things.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Beverly, will that mule Ned stand fire?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I dunno, Marse Billy; nobody ain't nebber tried him. But I 'spec' you

-      wouldn't ax him no odds.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I'll go and have a look at him.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Shortly afterward we heard two tremendous explosions, followed by a

-      frenzied clatter of hoofs and the sound of breaking branches, and up there

-      came, running and laughing, a Monsieur Wynen, a Belgian violinist, a real

-      artist, who was one of our party (though never a trigger did he pull

-      during the entire hunt).

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What's the matter?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Wynen was first violin in an opera troupe.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;It is only Blount rehearsing Ned.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Any man in the world except Blount would have tested that demure wheel

-      mule's views as to firearms by firing off his gun in his neighborhood as

-      he stood tethered. Not so Billy. Mounting the guileless and unsuspecting

-      Ned, and casting the reins upon his bristly neck, he had let drive.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Shocked beyond expression by the dreadful roar and flash (it was now

-      night) Ned had made a mad rush through the woods. In vain; for Blount had

-      a good seat. Then had there come into Ned's wily brain the reminiscence of

-      a trick that he had never known to fail in thirty years. He stopped

-      suddenly, still as a gate post, at the same time bracing his vertebrae

-      into the similitude of a barrel hoop, and instantly Blount lay sprawling

-      upon his jolly back; and there was a second roar, followed by a rush of

-      buckshot among the leaves and around the legs of the audience that was

-      watching the rehearsal. &ldquo;Never mind, Jack,&rdquo; said he to me, shortly

-      afterward, &ldquo;I'll find something that will stand fire&rdquo; and throwing his arm

-      around my shoulder for a confidential talk of the slaughter he was to do

-      on the morrow, his sanguine soul bubbled into my sympathetic ear:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I say, Jack, don't tell the boys; but I have got two bags of shot. They

-      would laugh, of course. Now, how many ought a fellow to bring down with

-      two bags? I mean a cool-headed chap who does not lose his head. How does

-      one dozen to the bag strike you? Reasonable? H'm? Of course. Twenty-four,

-      then. Well, let us say twenty-five, just to round off things. Golly! Why,

-      nine is the highest score I ever made. Twenty-five! Why, that is a quarter

-      of a hundred. Did you notice that? Whee-ew! The boys will stop bedeviling

-      me after that, h'm? I should say so. Not a rascal of them all ever killed

-      so many. Cool and steady, that's the thing, my boy. Up he jumps! What of

-      that? Don't be flustered, I tell you. Count ten. Then lower your gun.

-      There is not the least hurry in the world. Drop the muzzle on his side,

-      just behind his shoulder. Steady! Let him think you are not after deer

-      this morning. If it is a doe let it appear that you are loaded for buck.

-      Bang! Over he tumbles in his tracks. You load up and are off again. Up

-      hops another&mdash;a beauty. Same tactics&mdash;boo-doo-ee! Got him!

-      What's the sense of throwing away your shot? Costs money&mdash;delays the

-      line. Cool&mdash;cool and steady&mdash;that's the word, my boy. Get any

-      shots to-day? Three? Hit anything?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      It was too dark for him to see how pale I went at this question. &ldquo;Mr.

-      Blount,&rdquo; said I, with a choking in my throat (nobody could help telling

-      the big-hearted fellow everything), &ldquo;you won't tell my father, will you?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Tell him what?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Well, you see, he cautioned me over and over again never, under any

-      circumstances, to fire at a deer that ran toward a neighboring huntsman.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Of course not&mdash;never!&rdquo; echoed Blount with conviction.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;And to-day&mdash;and to-day, when I was not thinking of such a thing, a

-      big buck jumped up from right under my horse's belly, and did you notice

-      that gray-headed old gentleman by the fire? Well, the buck rushed straight

-      toward him&mdash;and I forgot all about what my father had said and banged

-      away.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Did you pepper him?&rdquo; put in Billy eagerly.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Pepper him!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I mean the buck.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I don't know, he went on.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;They will do it, occasionally, somehow.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;When I saw the leaves raining down on the old gentleman, my heart stopped

-      beating. You will not tell my father?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Pshaw! There was no harm done. We must trust to Providence in these

-      matters. What did the old gentleman say?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Not a word; it was his first campaign, too. His eyes were nearly popping

-      out of his head. He let off both barrels. The shot whistled around me!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;The old fool! He ought to know better. To-morrow your father must put you

-      next to me.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Blount brought us hilarity and hope, but no luck, at any rate at first.

-      When we rode slowly into camp on the following day, just as the sun went

-      down, we had one solitary doe to show. Blount&mdash;Blount of all men&mdash;had

-      killed it. The servants hung it up on one of the poles that remained from

-      year to year stretched against the neighboring trees.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Owing to Blount's weight his game was always strapped behind some less

-      lucky huntsman; so we had had no opportunity of examining his riddled

-      quarry.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Why, how is this?&rdquo; exclaimed he. &ldquo;Oh, I remember; the other side was

-      toward me.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      We went around to the other side. Had the doe died of fright? After much

-      searching we found one bullet hole just behind the shoulder. Blount always

-      put four extra bullets into his load. So he had showered down forty

-      buckshot upon a doe lying in her bed at a distance of twenty feet and

-      struck her with one.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I say, Jack, for the Lord's sake don't tell the boys!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      After these two days our luck improved, and at the end of the hunt our

-      score reached seventy-eight; the smallest number, by the way, that the

-      club had ever killed. It would hardly be interesting to go into the

-      details of each day's sport, but our hero's adventures one night seem

-      worth recording. To this joyous and indefatigable spirit the day was all

-      too short. No sooner had he eaten his supper each day than he began to

-      importune the younger men of the party to join him in a &ldquo;fire hunt;&rdquo; but,

-      as they were not Blounts, they felt that a long day in the saddle was

-      enough. In his despair Blount turned to Beverly. That amiable creature,

-      not knowing how to refuse the request of a white gentmun, assented, but

-      with a quaking heart, for were not the surrounding forests swarming with

-      ravenous wolves? He had often lain awake and listened complacently enough

-      to their howling, but to trust, to thrust, himself wantonly among them at

-      dead of night!

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Wid nobody along but Marse Billy Blount, an' he couldn't hit nothin',

-      even by daylight, onless dey asleep. He hear 'em say wolf 'fraid o' fire.

-      Maybe he is. But lights draws dem wild varmints, an' 'sposin' arter a

-      whole congregation un 'em done come up starin' at de light; 'sposin'

-      somehow or nuther de torch got out&mdash;whar Beverly den? Marse Billy got

-      de gun; but whar Beverly? Ain't I hear people say wolf more ambitiouser

-      for nig-gar dan for sheep meat? Howsomever, ef my own mahster willin' to

-      resk losin' of me, I can stand it, I reckon. But Tom, ef you should wake

-      up, and hear something coming through de bresh like a drove o' steers, you

-      needn't ax what dat; it's me and de wolves a-makin' for camp; an' me in

-      the lead, wid de help o' de Laud.&rdquo; Sitting in front of the blazing logs

-      and chatting with his fellow cooks, Beverly could see the humor of his

-      quite real fears.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Behold, then, the burly knight and his dusky and not over-valiant squire

-      setting forth in quest of adventure&mdash;the one mounted on his tall

-      gray, the other astraddle of Ned. It appears incredible that any man in

-      his senses would take two such ani-malson such an expedition, but there

-      never was but one Blount. Beverly carried the gun, his chief the torch,

-      consisting of &ldquo;lightwood&rdquo; knots blazing in the bowl of a long-handled

-      frying pan. The handle, resting on the right shoulder, was held somewhat

-      depressed, so that the light should shine above the head of the huntsman,

-      illumining the woods in his front. The sportsman, slowly waving the handle

-      to and fro, peers intently into the darkness in quest of the gleaming eyes

-      of some staring buck.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Presently a dismal howl from far away to the right came stealing through

-      the silence. And presently an answering cry from the left, and much

-      nearer. And another, and another! <i>Ugh! what was that?</i> A rabbit had

-      darted under Ned, across the rattling leaves. Beverly, shivering, dug his

-      heels into Ned's ribs. Ned pressed forward till his nose touched the

-      ticklish flank of the gray. The gray let fly with whizzing hoof. Ned shut

-      his eyes, unwilling to witness the enormity of an aged mule being kicked

-      at by torchlight.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Beverly! Beverly!&rdquo; breathed the knight eagerly, &ldquo;gimme the gun! gimme the

-      gun! I see a pair of eyes as big as saucers!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;M&mdash;M&mdash;Marse B&mdash;B&mdash;Billy&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Quick! gimme the gun! What the devil is the matter with you?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;De wolves, Marse Billy! 'Sposin' arter de gun done empty dey splunge in

-      upon us? I bound a whole nation un 'em watchin' us dis minute!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Blount wrested the gun from the reluctant Beverly, whose knee now trembled

-      against his. Pressing down the pan handle so as to throw the light well in

-      front, he cocked the gun, adjusted it to his shoulder, took aim, and

-      pulled the trigger.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Blount, in reply to the warning of his friends, had urged that it might

-      very well be that a horse that shied by day at a gun would act differently

-      at night. And he was right. By daylight the gray was in the habit of

-      making one or two violent plunges when his rider fired. But tonight, when

-      that terrible roar broke the stillness and that fierce blaze flashed into

-      his eyes&mdash;&mdash;

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Immediately after the sound of the gun reached us we heard the anxious,

-      jolting bray of a trotting mule. The disjointed, semi-asinine song came

-      nearer, and presently Ned hurried past the fire to his place by his

-      tethered mate, with a low equine chuckle of satisfaction. In his wake

-      rushed Beverly, panting, wide eyed. It was a full minute before he could

-      speak.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Lord, mahsters, don't ax me nothin'; I don't know nothin' 'bout it. I

-      'most don't know whether I here or no arter de way dem revengious varmints

-      whoop me through dem woods, a-yelpin' an' a-gnash-in' o' deir teeth. B'fo'

-      Gaud, I thought every minute was gwine to be my next! When Marse Billy

-      shoot, though I beg him not to, seein' dat de whole woods was a-bilin' wid

-      wolves, dat fool of a horse o' hisn jess riz on his hind legs an' splunge

-      right over me an' Ned, jess like we warn't nothin't all. Dem lightwood

-      knots flew right up, same as one o' dem blaze o' glories I see when I got

-      religion. I lit on my head. Ned he went oneway; Marse Billy horse anudder.

-      But seein' as I done knowed Ned de longest, I followed him&mdash;an' he

-      fotch me home. Run? No, twarnt runnin', twas flyin'; an' every jump de

-      varmints was a-reachin' for me. I hear deir teeth, jess as plain, clashin'

-      like sheep shears. Umgh-umgh! Beverly hump heself he did. Jess look at my

-      clothes! I left de rest of 'em on de bushes. Whar Marse Billy? Lord

-      a-mussy, I dunno! I mighty 'fraid de wolves done got him, leastwise ef he

-      didn't set hard on dat dere fool gray.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Mahster, couldn't you gimme jess a leetle tetch o' dat whiskey? I'se

-      powerful downhearted. Thank you, mahster. But mahster, don't lemme go no

-      mo' a spotin' along o' Marse Billy; seem like I ain't dat kind. Lemme

-      drive my mules, lemme cook, don't lemme go projickin' about wid Marse

-      Billy Blount no mo'. You laughin', is you, Tom? Nemmind&mdash;you go next

-      time!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Presently there came to us from far away a doleful yell, with nothing of

-      the bugle blast in it. &ldquo;There he is!&rdquo; and we made response with

-      laughter-choked shouts.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      About fifteen minutes afterward the sound of hoofs was heard, and

-      presently our mighty hunter appeared, but <i>quantum mutatus ab illo!</i>

-      No hat, no gun, one skirt of his coat and half of the buttons gone; shirt

-      bosom torn out, trousers hanging in ribbons! But though his face was

-      scratched beyond recognition he remained the one, only true Blount in the

-      world; though his eyes were bloodshot they beamed with conscious victory.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Boys,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;which of you will go and help me bring him in?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Bring what in?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Why, the buck&mdash;I blew his infernal head off, sure!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Next morning Blount and Beverly rode to the scene of their exploit, and

-      Blount secured his gun and Beverly his frying pan. 'The buck had either

-      walked off without his head or been swallowed by one of the varmints.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div style="height: 4em;">

-      <br /><br /><br /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h2>

-      A CAHUTTA VALLEY SHOOTING MATCH, By Will N. Harben

-    </h2>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0021" id="linkimage-0021"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="figleft" style="width:20%;">

-      <img src="images/9087.jpg" alt="9087 " width="100%" /><br /><a

-      href="images/9087.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </div>

-    <p>

-      HERE was a sound of merriment on Farmer Bagley's place. It was &ldquo;corn

-      shucking&rdquo; night, and the young people from all sides had met to partake of

-      mirth and hospitality. After all had taken seats in the large sitting room

-      and parlor, the men were invited with a mysterious wink and grin from the

-      countenance of jovial Bagley to taste the contents of a large brown jug

-      which smiled on a shelf beside the water bucket out in the entry. Its

-      saturated corn-cob stopper, lying whiskey colored in the moonlight by the

-      side of the jug, gave a most tempting aroma to the crisp, invigorating

-      November air and rendered Bagley's signs and hints all the more

-      comprehensible.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      They were mostly young men who, with clattering boots, filed out to the

-      shelf and turned, with smacking lips wiped on their hands, back to the

-      clusters of shy, tittering maidens round the blazing log fires. They wore

-      new jean trousers neatly folded round muscular calves and stowed away,

-      without a visible wrinkle, into high, colored-topped boots with sharp,

-      brightly-polished heels, upon which were strapped clanking spurs. Their

-      sack coats, worn without vests over low-necked woolen shirts, fitted their

-      strong bodies admirably.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Dick Martin, a tall, well-built young man with marked timidity in his

-      voice, considerably augmented by the brightness of Melissa Bagley's eyes,

-      drew near that young lady and said:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yore pap has certainly got some o' the best corn licker in this county,

-      Melissa; it liter'ly sets a feller on fire.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Be ashamed, Dick Martin!&rdquo; she answered, with a cautious glance around her

-      as if she feared that someone would observe the flush that had risen into

-      her pretty face as he approached. &ldquo;Be ashamed o' yorese'f fur techin'

-      licker; last log-rollin' you 'lowed you'd tuk yore last dram. Paw ort to

-      be churched fur settin' temptation 'fore so many young men. Ef I had my

-      way the' wouldn't be a still, wild cat nur licensed, in the Co-hutta

-      Mountains nowhar.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Shucks, Melissa!&rdquo; exclaimed Dick. &ldquo;Don't git yore dander up 'bout

-      nothin'. I'm that anxious to git yore pap on my side I'd drink slop,

-      mighty high, ef he 'uz to ax me. He don't like me, an' blame me ef I know

-      why, nuther. I ain't been here in the last three Sunday nights 'thout him

-      a-callin' you to bed most 'fore dark. He didn't raise no objections to

-      Bill Miller a-stayin' tell 'leven o'clock last Tuesday night. Oh, I ain't

-      blind to hurt! Bill owns his own land and I havn't a shovelful; thar's the

-      difference. He's a-comin' now, but mind you I'm agwine to set by you at

-      shuckin'.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The bright flush which had added such beauty to the girl's face vanished

-      as Bill Miller swaggered up and said with a loud voice, as he roughly

-      shook her hand:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Meliss', kin I wait on you at shuckin'?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Dick's jest this minute axed me,&rdquo; she stammered, beginning to blush anew.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Well, he ain't axed to set on both sides uv you, I reckon. You'd be a

-      uncommon quar pusson ef the' wuz jest one side to you. What's to keep me

-      frum settin' on tother side frum Dick?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      To this the farmer's daughter made no reply, and as the guests were now

-      starting to the barnyard she was escorted between the two rivals to the

-      great coneshaped heap of unhusked corn gleaming in the pale moonlight.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;All keep yore feet an' form a ring round the pile!&rdquo; called out Bagley, so

-      as to be overheard above the sound of their voices. &ldquo;The' ain't no r'al

-      fun 'thout everything is conducted fa'r and squar'. Now&rdquo; (as all the

-      merrymakers stood hand in hand round the corn heap, Dick with one of

-      Melissa's hands in his tight clasp and his rival with the other)&mdash;&ldquo;now,

-      all march round an' somebody start 'King William Wuz King James' Son,' an'

-      when I tell you to halt set down right whar' you are. I'm a-doin' this

-      'kase at Wade's last week some fellers hid red yeers o' corn nigh the'r

-      places an' wuz etarnally a-kissin' o' the gals, which ain't fa'r nur

-      decent. The rule on this occasion shall be as common, in regard to the

-      fust feller that finds a red yeer o'corn bein' 'lowed to kiss any gal he

-      likes, but atter that one time&mdash;understand everybody&mdash;atter that

-      no bussin' kin take place, red yeer ur no red yeer. I advocate moderation

-      in all things, especially whar' a man an' woman's mouth is con-sarned.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      While the musical tones of the familiar song were rising, and the straw

-      beneath the feet of the human chain was rustling, Bagley called aloud the

-      word: &ldquo;Halt!&rdquo; and all sat down immediately and went to work with a will.

-      Song after song was sung. The hard, pearly silk-tipped ears of corn flew

-      through the air and rained into the crib near at hand, and billows of

-      husks rolled up behind the eager workers and were raked away by negroes

-      who were not permitted to take part in the sport.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Here's a red un, by hunky!&rdquo; yelled out a sunburnt, downy-faced youth,

-      standing up and holding aloft a small ear of blood-red corn.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Hold on thar!&rdquo; shouted Bagley in commanding tones. &ldquo;The rules must be

-      enforced to the letter. Jim Lash, ef yore yeer measures full six inches

-      ye're the lucky man, but ef it falls short o' that size its a nubbin an'

-      don't count.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      An eager group encircled the young man, but soon a loud laugh rose and

-      they all fell back into their places, for the ear had proved to be only

-      five inches in length.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Not yit, Jimmy Lash; not yit,&rdquo; grunted Dick Martin, as he raked an armful

-      of unhusked corn into his and Melissa's laps. Then to Melissa in an

-      undertone: &ldquo;Ef wishin' 'u'd do any good, I'd be the fust to run acrost

-      one, fur, by jingo! the' ain't a livin' man, Melissa, that could want it

-      as bad as I do with you a-settin' so handy. By glory! [aloud] here she is,

-      as red as sumac an' as long as a rollin' pin. The Lord be praised!&rdquo; He had

-      risen to his feet and stood holding up the trophy for Bagley's inspection,

-      fairly aglow with triumph and exercise.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The rustling in the corn husks ceased. All eyes were directed upon the

-      erect forms of Dick Martin and Farmer Bagley. The clear moonlight revealed

-      an unpleasant expression on the older man's face in vivid contrast to the

-      cast of the younger's. Bagley seemed rather slow to form a decision; all

-      present suspected the cause of his hesitation.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Fair's fair, Bagley!&rdquo; called out an old farmer outside of the circle.

-      &ldquo;Don't belittle yorese'f by 'lowin' anything o' a personal natur' to come

-      in an' influence you ag'in right. Dick Martin's the fust an' is entitled

-      to the prize.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yore right, Wilson,&rdquo; admitted Bagley, with his eyes downcast. &ldquo;Dick

-      Martin is the winner an' kin proceed; howsomever, thar's some things that&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      <br />

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      Salute yore bride an' kiss her sweet,

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      Now you may rise upon yore feet!

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br />

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      sang the leader of the singers, completely drowning the remainder of

-      Bagley's sentence. As quick as a flash of lightning Dick had thrown his

-      arm round struggling Melissa and imprinted a warm kiss on her lips. Then

-      the workers applauded vociferously, and Melissa sat, suffused with

-      crimson, between sullen Bill Miller and beaming Dick Martin. Bagley showed

-      plainly that Dick's action and the applause of all had roused his dislike

-      for Dick even deeper than ever.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I'm knowed to be a man o' my word,&rdquo; he fumed, white in the face and

-      glancing round the ring of upturned faces. &ldquo;I'm firm as firm kin be, I

-      mought say as the rock o' Bralty, when I take a notion. I've heerd a

-      leetle o' the talk in this settlement 'mongst some o' the meddlin' sort,

-      an' fur fear this leetle accident mought add to the'r tattle I'd jest like

-      to remark that ef thar's a man on the top side o' the earth that knows

-      what's to be done with his own flesh an' blood it ort to be me. What's

-      been the talk ain't so, not a speck of it. I've got somethin' to say to&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Paw!&rdquo; expostulated Melissa, almost crying.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Mr. Bagley&mdash;I say, Abrum Bagley, don't make a born fool o'

-      yorese'f,&rdquo; broke in Mrs. Bagley, as she waddled into the circle and laid

-      her hand heavily upon her husband's arm. &ldquo;Now, folks, it's about time you

-      wuz gittin' somethin' warm into you. You kin finish the pile atter you've

-      eat. Come on, all hands, to the house!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      A shadow of mortification fell athwart Dick's honest face as soon as

-      Bagley had spoken. His sensitive being was wounded to the core. As he and

-      Melissa walked back to the farm house together, Bill Miller having dropped

-      behind to gossip with someone over Bagley's remarks, he was silent, and

-      timid Melissa was too shy to break the silence, although it was very

-      painful to her.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Reaching the entrance to the farm house, Dick held back and refused to

-      enter with the others.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Ain't you gwine to come in an' have some supper?&rdquo; Melissa asked,

-      pleadingly.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I ain't a-goin' narry nuther step. Anything cooked in this house would

-      stick in my throat atter what's been said. He struck me a underhanded

-      lick. I won't force myse'f on 'im nur to his table.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I think you mought, bein' as I axed you,&rdquo; said she tremblingly, as she

-      shrank into the honeysuckle vines that clung to the latticework of the

-      entry.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;No, blame me ef I do!&rdquo; he answered firmly. &ldquo;I'm of as good stock as

-      anybody in this county; nobody cayn't run no bull yearlin' dry shod over

-      me.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      All Melissa could do could not induce him to join the others in the dining

-      room, and when he walked angrily away she ran into her own room, and

-      sitting down in the darkness alone she burst into a flood of tears. After

-      supper the guests repaired again to the corn heap, but Melissa was not

-      among them, and the spirits of all seemed somewhat dampened.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      After that night Dick Martin and Melissa Bagley did not meet each other

-      for several days. However, on the Sunday following the corn shucking, as

-      Melissa was returning from meeting through the woods alone, the very one

-      who was uppermost in her troubled mind joined her. He emerged from the

-      thick-growing bushes which skirted her path, with a very pale face and

-      unhappy mien.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I jest couldn't wait another minute, Melissa,&rdquo; he said, standing

-      awkwardly before her, &ldquo;not ef I had to be shot fur it.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Paw's mighty stubborn an' contrary when he takes a notion,&rdquo; she said,

-      with hanging head and an embarrassed kick of her foot at a tuft of grass.

-      &ldquo;I think he mought let me alone. You ain't the only one he hates. Thar's

-      ol' man Lawson; law, he hates him wuss'n canker! I heerd 'im say tother

-      day ef somebody 'u'd jest beat Lawson shootin' next match he'd be his

-      friend till death. He ain't never got over his lawsuit with Lawson over

-      the sheep our dog killed. Paw fit it in court through three terms, an'

-      then had to give in an' settle the claim an' all the costs besides. It

-      mighty nigh broke im. Fur the last five years Lawson has driv home the

-      prize beef from the fall match, an' every time paw jest fairly shakes with

-      madness over it.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      When Dick left Melissa at the bars in sight of her house and turned toward

-      his home a warm idea was tingling in his brain, and by the time he had

-      reached his father's cottage he was fairly afire with it. The shooting

-      match was to take place in a month&mdash;what was to prevent him from

-      taking part in it? He had an excellent rifle, and had done some good

-      shooting at squirrels. Perhaps if he would practice a good deal he might

-      win. Lawson was deemed the best marksman in all the Cohutta valleys, and

-      frequently it had been hard to get anyone to enter a match against him.

-      Dick at last decided to enter the forthcoming match at all events. He went

-      into his cottage and took down his rifle from its deer-horn rack over the

-      door. While he was eyeing the long, rusty barrel critically his old mother

-      entered.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Fixin' fur a hunt, Dick? Thar's a power o' pa'tridges in the sage field

-      down the hollar. A rifle ain't as good fur that sort o' game as a shotgun;

-      suppose you step over an' ax Hanson to loan you his'n?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I jest 'lowed I'd shine this un up a bit bein' as it's Sunday an' I hate

-      to be idle,&rdquo; he answered, evasively, as he seated himself at the wide

-      fireplace with a pan of grease and a piece of cloth and rubbed his gun

-      barrel until it fairly shone in the firelight. The next morning he threw

-      it over his shoulder and, taking an axe in his hand, he started toward the

-      woods.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Didn't know but I mought find a bee tree somers,&rdquo; he said sheepishly, as

-      he saw his mother looking wonderingly at the axe. &ldquo;Not likely, but I

-      mought, thar's no tellin', though the darn little varmints do keep

-      powerful close hid this time o' year.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      He went over the hills and through the tangled woods until he came to a

-      secluded old field. He singled out a walnut tree near its centre, and

-      going to it he cut a square white spot in the bark with his axe. It is

-      needless to detail all that took place there that day, or on other days

-      following it. For the first week the earnest fellow would return from this

-      spot each afternoon with a very despondent look upon him. As time passed,

-      however, and his visits to the riddled tree grew more frequent his face

-      began to grow brighter.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Once his mother came suddenly upon him as he stood in the cottage before

-      the open door with his rifle placed in position for firing. He lowered his

-      gun with a deep blush.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I 'us jest a tryin' to see how long I could keep the sight on that shiny

-      spot out thar in the field without flinchin'. Blame me, ef you hadn't come

-      in I believe I could a helt her thar tell it thundered.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Dick,&rdquo; said the old woman, with a deep breath, &ldquo;what on earth has got in

-      you here lately? Are you gwine plump stark crazy 'bout that old gun? You

-      never tuk on that way before.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I've jest found out I'm purty good on a shot, that's all,&rdquo; he replied,

-      evasively.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;as fur as that's concerned, in old times our stock was

-      reckoned to be the best marksmen in our section. You ort to be; yore

-      narrer 'twixt the eyes, an' that's a shore sign.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Dick caught a glimpse of Melissa now and then, and managed to exchange a

-      few words with her occasionally, the nature of which we will not disclose.

-      It may be said, however, that she was always in good spirits, which

-      puzzled her father considerably, for he was at a loss to see why she

-      should be so when Dick had not visited her since the night of the corn

-      shucking. Moreover, she continually roused her father's anger by speaking

-      frequently of the great honor that belonged to Farmer Lawson for so often

-      Winning the prizes in the shooting matches.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Dang it, Melissa, dry up!&rdquo; he exclaimed, boiling with anger, &ldquo;you know I

-      hate that daddrated man. I'd fling my hat as high as the moon ef some o'

-      these young bucks 'u'd beat him this fall; he's as full o' brag as a lazy

-      calf is with fleas.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;No use a hopin' fur anything o' that sort, paw; Lawson's too old a han'.

-      He ain't got his equal at shootin' ur lawin.' The whole country couldn't

-      rake up a better one.&rdquo; After speaking in this manner she would stifle a

-      giggle by holding her hand over her mouth until she was livid in the face,

-      and escape from her mystified parent, leaving him to vent his spleen on

-      the empty air.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The day of the annual shooting match drew near. It was not known who were

-      to be the participants aside from Lawson, for the others usually waited

-      till the time arrived to announce their intentions. No better day could

-      have been chosen. The sky was blue and sprinkled with frothy clouds, and

-      the weather was not unpleasantly cold. Women and men, boys, girls and

-      children from all directions were assembled to witness the sport and were

-      seated in chairs and wagons all over the wide, open space.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Melissa was there in a cluster of girls, and her father was near by in a

-      group of men, all of whom&mdash;like himself&mdash;disliked the

-      blustering, boasting Lawson and fondly hoped that someone would beat him

-      on this occasion. Lawson stood by himself, with a confident smile on his

-      face. His rifle butt rested on the grass and his hands were folded across

-      each other on the end of his gun barrel.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Wilks,&rdquo; said he to the clerk of the county court, who had been chosen as

-      referee for the occasion, &ldquo;git up yore list o' fellers that are bold

-      enough to shoot agin the champion. I reckon my nerves are 'bout as they

-      wuz six yeer ago when I fust took my stan' here to larn this settlement

-      how to shoot.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Just before the list of aspirants was read aloud Dick managed to reach

-      Melissa's side unobserved by her father.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Did you keep yore promise 'bout cut-tin' my patchin' fur me?&rdquo; he asked in

-      a whisper.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      With trembling fingers she drew from her pocket several little pieces of

-      white cotton cloth about the size of a silver quarter of a dollar and gave

-      them to him.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;They're jest right to a gnat's heel,&rdquo; he said, warmly. &ldquo;A ball packed in

-      one o' them'll go straight ur I'm no judge.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Dick,&rdquo; whispered she, looking him directly in the eyes, &ldquo;you ain't a bit

-      flustered. I believe you'll win.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      With a smile Dick turned away and joined the crowd round the referee's

-      chair, and when his name was called a moment later among the names of four

-      others he brought his rifle from a wagon and stood in view of the crowd.

-      The first applause given that day was accorded him, for in addition to its

-      being his first appearance in a shooting match he was universally popular.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Bully fur you, Dick; here's my han' wishing you luck!&rdquo; said a

-      cheery-voiced farmer, shaking Dick's hand.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;It's the way with all these young strips,&rdquo; said Lawson in a loud,

-      boastful tone. &ldquo;Gwine to conquer the whole round world. He'll grin on

-      tother side o' his mouth when Bettie, the lead queen, barks and spits in

-      the very centre o' that spot out yander.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      A feeble murmur of admiration greeted this vaunting remark, but it quickly

-      subsided as the crowd noted that Dick Martin did not reply even by so much

-      as to raise his eyes from the inspection of his gun. The referee called

-      for order.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Jim Baker,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;be so kind as to drive round yore stall-fed heifer.

-      Ladies an' gentlemen [as a man emerged from a group of wagons and drove a

-      fine-looking young cow into the open space], here's a heifer in fine

-      enough order to make any man's eyes sore to look. Fifteen round dollars

-      has been paid in, by the five men who are to burn powder to-day, $3

-      apiece, an' the man whose shootin' iron can fling lead the straightest on

-      this occasion is entitled to the beef and the championship o' this valley

-      till next fall. Now, Mr. Baker, lead out yore cow, an' the shooters will

-      please form in a line.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      When the aspirants stood in front of him the referee continued:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Here is five pieces o' straw, all different lengths. The man who gets the

-      shortest one shoots fust, the next longest next, an' so on till you've all

-      had yore crack.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Passing the straws to the riflemen, and af ter they had drawn one each

-      from his tightly closed hands, he ordered a man to set up the target&mdash;a

-      planed plank, about one foot in width and six in length, with a round

-      marked spot about three inches in diameter, near the top.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I'd willin'ly give my chance o' oats to have some o' them boys knock the

-      stuffin' clean out'n Lawson; he's that stuck up he cayn't hardly walk,&rdquo;

-       said Bagley, his anger intensified by observing the sneering smile on

-      Lawson's face.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I'm mighty afeard,&rdquo; said the man to whom Bagley was speaking, &ldquo;that Dick

-      Martin 'll lose his $3. I never heerd o' him bein' any han' with a gun.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      To this Bagley offered no reply. In his hatred for Lawson, and at such a

-      time he had no thought to give to Dick.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;All ready!&rdquo; rang out the voice of the referee. &ldquo;Bob Ransom gits the first

-      pull at trigger to-day.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Silence fell on the crowd as the tall, slender young man stepped forth and

-      stood with his left foot on a line cut in the grass exactly 100 yards from

-      the tree against which the yellow board with its single eye leaned in the

-      sunbeams. Not a whisper escaped the motionless assembly as the young man

-      slowly brought his weapon into position. &ldquo;Crack!&rdquo; sounded the rifle out of

-      a balloon-shaped cloud of blue smoke.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Missed centre, board, tree an' all!&rdquo; cried out Bagley, in a tone of deep

-      regret.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I seed yore lead plough up the dirt away out tother side; it's powerful

-      hard to hold a steady han' when you are fust called on.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Next is Taylor Banks!&rdquo; announced the referee; and as a middle-aged man

-      advanced and toed the mark, Lawson was heard to say, with a loud laugh;

-      &ldquo;Fust one missed the tree; you folks on the left out thar 'u'd better set

-      back fur-der; no tellin' who Banks 'll hit, fur he's a-tremblin' like so

-      much jelly.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Hit about three inches due north o' the spot,&rdquo; called out the referee, as

-      the smoke rose from the peering marksman. &ldquo;I'm afraid, Tayl', that

-      somebody 'll come nigher than that when the pinch comes. Joe Burk is the

-      next, an' I'll take occasion to say here that I know of no man in all this

-      mountain country that is more prompt to pay his taxes.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Crack!&rdquo; A universal bending of necks to get the target in better view and

-      a rolling billow of voices in the crowd.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;A inch an' a half below the spot!&rdquo; proclaimed the referee. &ldquo;Why, friends,

-      what ails you all? This ain't nigh such shootin' as we had last fall. Too

-      many women present, I reckon. Ladies, if you'll cover up yore faces maybe

-      the next two will do better. The straws say that Abraham Lawson has the

-      next whack. Lawson, make yore bow.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The champion of the settlement stepped into view with a haughty strut,

-      dragging his rifle butt on the ground and swinging his broad-brimmed hat

-      carelessly in his hand. Turning to a negro behind him as he took his

-      place, he said so that all could hear:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Tobe, git yore rope ready an' stan' over thar nigh the beef. When you git

-      'er home turn 'er in the pastur'. Ef this thing goes on year atter year

-      I'll start a cattle ranch an' quit farmin'.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Dang his hide!&rdquo; exclaimed Bagley to Melissa, who was very pale and quite

-      speechless. &ldquo;Dang it, I'd lay this here right arm on any man's meat block

-      an' give 'im leave to chop it off ef he'd jest git beat. He's that spiled

-      flies is on 'im.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Lawson's hat was now on the grass at his feet and he had deliberately

-      raised his brightly-polished weapon to his broad shoulder. The sun

-      glittered on the long steel tube. The silence for an instant was so

-      profound that the birds could be heard singing in the woods and the cawing

-      of the crows in the corn fields near by sounded harsh to the ear. For an

-      instant the sturdy champion stood as if molded in metal, his long hair

-      falling over his gun stock, against which his tanned cheek was closely

-      pressed. Not a sound passed the lips of the assembly, and when the rifle

-      report came it sent a twinge to many a heart.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Dang it!&rdquo; ejaculated Lawson, as he lowered his gun and peered through the

-      rising smoke toward the target. &ldquo;I felt a unsteady quiver tech me jest as

-      I pulled the trigger.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;About half an inch from the very centre o' the mark. Yore ahead. Nobody

-      is likely to come up to you, Lawson,&rdquo; said the referee. &ldquo;The' ain't but

-      one more.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I don't keer,&rdquo; replied Lawson. &ldquo;I know the cow's mine; but I did want to

-      come up to my record. I walked too fast over here an' it made me

-      unsteady.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;The next an' last candidate for glory,&rdquo; said the referee, &ldquo;is Dick

-      Martin. No cheerin', friends, it ain't been give to the others and you

-      oughtn't to show partiality. Besides, it might excite him, an' he needs

-      all the nerve he's got.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Bagley was still at Melissa's side. He had his eyes too intently fixed on

-      the stalwart form of Dick Martin and the young man's pale, determined

-      visage to note that his daughter had covered her pale face with her cold,

-      trembling hands and bowed her head.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;By Jinks! he's the coolest cucumber that's lifted shootin' iron to-day,&rdquo;

-       said Bagley under his breath. &ldquo;Ef he beats Lawson dagg me if I don't give

-      him a dance in my barn an' invite every man, woman an' child in the whole

-      valley.&rdquo; With his left foot on the mark and his right thrown back easily,

-      as if he were taking a step forward, and his well-formed body bent

-      slightly toward the target, Dick stood motionless, sighting along his gun

-      barrel at the target. Then, to the surprise of all, he raised his gun

-      until it pointed to the top of the tree against which the target leaned.

-      Here a gentle sigh, born from the union of half surprise and half

-      disappointment, swept over the crowd as low as the whisper of a breeze

-      through a dry foliaged tree. The sigh died away and intense silence

-      claimed the moment, for the gun's point was sweeping rapidly downward.

-      Hardly a second did it pause in a line with the target's centre before the

-      report came, putting every breast in sudden motion. The marker's eyes saw

-      a clean splinter fly from the very centre of the round.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;The beef is won by Dick Martin!&rdquo; loudly proclaimed the referee.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Whoopee! Glory! Glory!&rdquo; The shout was from the lips of Bagley, and in an

-      instant he had stridden across to Dick with outstretched hand. &ldquo;Glory,

-      Glory! Dick!&rdquo; he exclaimed; &ldquo;le'me have a hold o' yore fist. Tell judgment

-      day I'm yore friend. I've said some sneakin' underhand things about you

-      that's hurt yore feelin's an' I want to ax yore pardon. Dang it! I cayn't

-      harbor no ill will agin a feller that's beat Abrum Lawson a-shootin'.

-      Thank goodness you've fetched his kingdom to a end!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      When down-fallen Lawson had slunk away unnoticed from the enthusiastic

-      crowd who were eager to congratulate Dick, Bagley came up to him and said:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Dick, le'me have the honor o' drivin' the prize home fur you. Fur some

-      reason ur other you didn't stay to supper with us corn-shuckin' night;

-      Melissa's a waitin' fur you out thar in the bresh to ax you to come home

-      with us to-night. By glory, Tobe,&rdquo; turning to Lawson's negro, &ldquo;this yer's

-      the same identical beef Lawson ordered you to drive home an' put in his

-      pastur', ain't it? Well, you jest tell 'im his friend Bagley tuk the job

-      off'n yore han's.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0022" id="linkimage-0022"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0105.jpg" alt="0105 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0105.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div style="height: 4em;">

-      <br /><br /><br /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h2>

-      MOERAN'S MOOSE&mdash;A HUNTING STORY, By Ed. W. Sandys.

-    </h2>

-    <p class="pfirst">

-      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">O</span>NE of the best

-      fellows among the hardy lot who have ran the trails and paddled the lonely

-      tributaries of the tipper Ottawa was Moeran. No bolder sportsman ever went

-      into the woods, and few, or none of the guides or professional hunters

-      could rival his skill with rifle or paddle. The tough old

-      &ldquo;Leatherstockings&rdquo; fairly idolized him, for he got his game as they did,

-      by straight shooting, perfect woodcraft, and honest hard work; and most of

-      them, while they usually charged a heavy price for their services, would

-      have gladly thrown in their lots with him for an outing of a month or

-      more, and asked nothing save what he considered a fair division of the

-      spoils. He was also a keen observer and a close student of the ways of

-      bird and beast. The real pleasure of sport seemed to him to lie in the

-      fact that it brought him very near to nature, and permitted him to pore at

-      will over that marvelous open page which all might read if they chose, yet

-      which few pause to study. His genial disposition and long experience made

-      him ever a welcome and valuable companion afield or afloat, and the

-      comrades he shot with season after season would have as soon gone into the

-      woods without their rifles as without Moeran. Physically, he was an

-      excellent type of the genuine sportsman. Straight and tall, and strongly

-      made, his powerful arms could make a paddle spring, if need be, or his

-      broad shoulders bear a canoe or pack over a portage that taxed even the

-      rugged guides; and his long limbs could cover ground in a fashion that

-      made the miles seem many and long to whoever tramped a day with him.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      And this was the kind of man that planned a trip for a party of four after

-      the lordly moose. Moeran had, until that year, never seen a wild moose

-      free in his own forest domain, and needless to say he was keenly anxious

-      to pay his respects to the great king of the Canadian wilderness. He had

-      been in the moose country many times while fishing or shooting in the

-      provinces of New Brunswick, Quebec, Ontario and Manitoba; he had seen the

-      slots of the huge deer about pool and stream, on beaver meadow and brule;

-      he had spent more than one September night &ldquo;calling,&rdquo; with a crafty Indian

-      to simulate the plaintive appeals of a love-lorn cow; he had heard the

-      great bulls answer from the distant hills&mdash;had heard even the low,

-      grunting inquiry a bull moose generally makes ere emerging from the last

-      few yards of shadowy cover, and revealing himself in all his mighty

-      strength and pride in the moonlit open. More than once he had lain

-      quivering with excitement and hardly daring to breathe, close-hidden in a

-      little clump of scrub, about which stretched full forty yards of level

-      grass on every side&mdash;lain so for an hour with every nerve strained to

-      the ready, with ears striving to catch the faintest sound on the stillness

-      of the night, and with eyes sweeping warily over the expanse of moonlit

-      grass and striving vainly to pierce the black borders of forest, somewhere

-      behind which his royal quarry was hidden. Upon such occasions he had lain

-      and listened and watched until he fancied he could see the moose standing

-      silently alert among the saplings, with ears shifting to and fro and with

-      keen nose searching the air ceaselessly for trace of his mortal enemy. The

-      occasional distant rattle of broad antlers against the trees as the big

-      brute shook himself or plunged about in lusty strength had sounded on his

-      ears, followed by the faint sounds of cautiously advancing footsteps

-      seemingly bent straight toward the ambush. Then would follow a long

-      agonizing pause, and then a snap of a twig or a faint rustling told that

-      the crafty bull was stealing in a circle through the cover around the open

-      space before venturing upon such dangerous ground.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0023" id="linkimage-0023"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0108.jpg" alt="0108 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0108.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      At last a deathlike silence for many minutes, and then a faint, far snap

-      of twigs and &ldquo;wish&rdquo; of straightening branches as the great bull stole away

-      to his forested hills, having read in breeze or on ground a warning of the

-      foe concealed in the harmless scrub. All these were disappointments, but

-      not necessarily bitter ones. The long night-vigils were after all rarely

-      spent entirely in vain, for each brought to him some new ideas, or let him

-      a little further into the dark mysteries of the great wild world's nightly

-      moods and methods. The skilled craft of his Indian &ldquo;caller;&rdquo; the strange

-      voices of the night that came to his ears, telling of the movements of

-      creatures but seldom seen or heard by day, were full of interest to a

-      genuine woodsman. And then the fierce though subdued excitement of the

-      weird watch for the huge beast that never came, and yet might come at any

-      moment full into the silvery moonlight from out the black belt of silent

-      wood&mdash;these were each fascinating to such a nature as his. But still

-      he had never once seen his long-looked-for game, though several seasons

-      had slipped away and the month of July, 18&mdash;&mdash;, had come and

-      half passed by. Then Moeran got ready his fishing tackle and camping gear

-      and vowed to find a good district for the party to shoot over the coming

-      season, even if he had to remain in the woods an entire month. Right well

-      he knew some of the likeliest points in New Brunswick, Quebec and

-      Manitoba, the eastern portion of the latter province being the best moose

-      country now available, but none of them met the requirements of the party,

-      and so he decided to go into northern Ontario and prospect until he found

-      what he sought.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      In the region of the upper Ottawa River, and in the wild lands about the

-      Mattawa River and about the lakes forming its headwaters, is a country

-      beloved of moose. Thither went Moe-ran, satisfied that his quest would not

-      be in vain. Early in the third week of July he and his Peterboro canoe and

-      outfit reached the railway station of North Bay, on the shore of noble

-      Lake Nipissing. While awaiting the arrival of the guide and team for the

-      next stage of his journey, he put rod together and strolled out on the

-      long pier which extends for a considerable distance into the lake.

-      Reaching the farther end and looking down into the clear, green depths

-      below, he saw watchful black bass skulking in the shadows, and lazy

-      pickerel drifting hither and thither, in and out, among the great piles

-      which supported the pier. To tempt a few of these to their doom was an

-      easy task, and soon the lithe rod was arching over a game black gladiator

-      and a master hand was meeting every desperate struggle of a fighting fish,

-      or slowly raising a varlet pickerel to his inglorious death. In time a

-      hail announced the arrival of the team, and after presenting his captives

-      to the few loungers on the pier, he busied himself stowing canoe and

-      outfit upon the wagon.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Their objective point was on the shore of Trout Lake, a lovely sheet of

-      water distant from Nipissing about four miles. The road was in many places

-      extremely bad and the team made slow progress, but there was plenty of

-      time to spare and about noon they reached the lake. The guide, as guides

-      are given to do, lied cheerfully and insistently every yard of the way,

-      about the beauty of the lake, the countless deer and grouse upon its

-      shores, the gigantic fish within its ice-cold depths, the game he, and

-      parties he had guided, had killed, and the fish they had caught. He did

-      well with these minor subjects, but when he touched upon moose and bear he

-      rose to the sublime, and lied with a wild abandon which made Moeran

-      seriously consider the advantage of upsetting the canoe later on and

-      quietly drowning him. But he was not so far astray in his description of

-      the lake. It formed a superb picture, stretching its narrow length for a

-      dozen miles between huge, rolling, magnificently wooded hills, while here

-      and there lovely islands spangled its silver breast. After a hurried lunch

-      they launched the good canoe, the guide insisting upon taking his rifle,

-      as, according to his story, they were almost certain to see one or more

-      bear. The guide proved that he could paddle almost as well as he could

-      lie, and the two of them drove the light craft along like a scared thing,

-      the paddles rising and falling, flashing and disappearing, with that

-      beautiful, smooth, regular sweep that only experts can give. For mile

-      after mile they sped along, until at last they neared the farther end of

-      the lake, where the huge hills dwindled to mere scattered mounds, between

-      which spread broad beaver meadows, the nearest of them having a pond

-      covering many acres near its center. All about this pond was a dense

-      growth of tall water-grasses, and in many places these grasses extended

-      far into the water which was almost covered, save a few open leads, with

-      the round, crowding leaves of the water-lily. A channel, broad and deep

-      enough to float the canoe, connected this pond with the lake, and, as the

-      locality was an ideal summer haunt for moose, Moeran decided to

-      investigate it thoroughly and read such &ldquo;sign&rdquo; as might be found. Landing

-      noiselessly, he and the guide changed places, Moeran kneeling, forward,

-      with the rifle on the bottom of the canoe in front of him, where he alone

-      could reach it. &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; he whispered, &ldquo;you know the route and how to

-      paddle; work her up as if a sound would cost your life. I'll do the

-      watching.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0024" id="linkimage-0024"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0112.jpg" alt="0112 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0112.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      Slowly, silently, foot by foot, and sometimes inch by inch, the canoe

-      stole up the currentless channel, the guide never raising his paddle, but

-      pushing with it cautiously against the soft bottom and lily-roots. It was

-      a good piece of canoe work, worthy even of Moeran's noted skill, and he

-      thoroughly appreciated it. By motions of his hand he indicated when to

-      halt and advance, while his eyes scanned sharply every yard of marsh

-      revealed by the windings of the channel. Not the slightest sound marked

-      their progress until they had almost entered the open water in the center

-      of the pond, and were creeping past the last fringe of tall grass.

-      Suddenly Moeran's hand signaled a halt, and the canoe lost its slow,

-      forward motion. He looked and looked, staring fixedly at a point some

-      twenty yards distant, where the growth of grass was thin and short and the

-      lily-pads denser than usual, and as he gazed with a strange concentration,

-      a wild light flashed in his eyes until they fairly blazed with exultant

-      triumph. Straight before him among the faded greens and bewildering browns

-      of the lily-pads was a motionless, elongated brown object very like the

-      curved back of a beaver, and a foot or more from it, in the shadow of a

-      clump of grass, something shone with a peculiar liquid gleam. It was an

-      eye&mdash;a great, round, wild eye&mdash;staring full into his own&mdash;the

-      eye of a moose&mdash;and the curving object like the back of a beaver was

-      naught else than the enormous nose, or muffle, of a full-grown bull.

-      Something like a sigh came from it, and then it slowly rose higher and

-      higher until the head and neck were exposed. The big ears pointed stiffly

-      forward, and the nose twitched and trembled for an instant as it caught

-      the dreaded taint; then with a mighty floundering and splashing the great

-      brute struggled to his feet. It was a grewsome spectacle to see this

-      uncouth creature uprise from a place where it seemed a muskrat could

-      hardly have hidden. For a few seconds he stood still.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0025" id="linkimage-0025"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0116.jpg" alt="0116 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0116.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Shoot! Shoot!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Moeran simply picked up the rifle and brought it level.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Load! 'Tain't loaded&mdash;the lever&mdash;quick!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      He made no response, merely covered, first the point of the shoulder and

-      then the ear, and then, as the bull plunged for the shore, he covered the

-      shoulder twice more, then lowered the rifle, while a horribly excited

-      guide cursed and raved and implored by turns in vain. And just how great

-      was the temptation was never known, but it certainly would have proved

-      irresistible to most men who call themselves sportsmen. In speaking about

-      it afterward Moeran said: &ldquo;It would have been a crime to have murdered the

-      beast under such conditions, and out of season. I covered him fair four

-      times, and could have dropped him dead where he stood&mdash;but we'll

-      attend to them later on.&rdquo; For there were, in all, four moose in the pond,

-      and, shortly after the big bull commenced his noisy retreat, a tremendous

-      splashing and plunging from the other side of the pond attracted their

-      attention. They turned just in time to see a grand old cow and two younger

-      moose struggle through the last few yards of mud and water, and then crash

-      their way into the cover at the rapid, pounding trot peculiar to the

-      species.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Moeran's mission had been accomplished much easier than was expected, and

-      he certainly had discovered a most promising locality for the trip with

-      his friends. After a day spent fishing, he departed homeward, leaving his

-      canoe and camp outfit in charge of the guide, whom he also bound by most

-      solemn pledge neither to betray the secret of the beaver meadow, nor to

-      molest the moose himself, before Moeran and his friends returned in time

-      for the first lawful day.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The last day of the close season saw the party and the guide snugly

-      encamped at a point half-way down the lake. His three friends had

-      unanimously agreed that Moeran should have the honor of visiting the

-      beaver meadow first, and alone if he desired. He was the surest shot and

-      by far the best hand at this sort of business, and he had discovered the

-      moose, while all hands knew how keen he was to secure a head to his own

-      rifle. So at earliest dawn Moeran put lunch and rifle into his shapely

-      Peterboro and sped noiselessly away through the ghostly vapors curtaining

-      the sleeping lake, and they saw him no more for many hours. The guide had

-      questioned the others about their comrade's shooting (of his ability at

-      the paddle he had somewhat sorrowful remembrance), and then, strange to

-      say, had advised Moeran to go alone.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;So much more glory for you,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and I'll look after these other

-      gentlemen and give them a day's fishing.&rdquo; But his manner was shifty, and

-      Moeran mistrusted him.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      In due time he reached the little channel leading to the beaver meadow,

-      and, as the sun lifted clear of the distant hills, he began working his

-      way to the pond. He hardly expected to find the moose there then, but he

-      had made up his mind to steal into the high grass and hide and watch all

-      day, if necessary, and, at all events, study the thing out thoroughly. As

-      the sun rose higher a brisk breeze sprang up, but as it came from the

-      woods toward his station he did not mind, although it would have been

-      fatal to his chance, probably, had it come from any other point of the

-      compass. Presently his nose detected a strong, sickening odor of carrion,

-      which, in time, as the breeze gained force, became almost overpowering,

-      and he started to investigate. Paddling straight up-wind he came at last

-      to a small pool, and the trouble was explained. The half-decomposed body

-      of a full-grown cow moose lay in the pool and Moeran muttered savagely his

-      opinion of all such butchery when he saw that not even the feet had been

-      taken for trophies. Then he poled his canoe to the edge of the meadow and

-      scouted carefully entirely round the open, seeking for any possible sign

-      of the remainder of the quartet. To his utter disgust he found the remains

-      of another moose, one of the younger animals, lying just within the

-      borders of the cover, and, as in the other case, the butcher had not

-      troubled himself to take away any portion of his victim. Moeran

-      understood, of course, that the guide had played him false, and if that

-      worthy had been present he might have seriously regretted his wrong-doing,

-      for he it was who had guided a learned and honorable (?) American judge to

-      the sanctuary of the moose a month previously, and, for a consideration of

-      twenty-five dollars, enabled his patron to gratify his taste for the

-      shambles.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Moeran's careful search discovered no fresh sign, and he made up his mind

-      that the two survivors, the old bull and the yearling, had fled the scene

-      and had probably sought another expanse of beaver meadow and ponds the

-      guide had mentioned as being about ten miles from Trout Lake. Moeran knew

-      that some sort of a trail led thither, and he resolved to find it and

-      follow it to the end and endeavor to locate the moose.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Of the ensuing long, hard day's work it will be unnecessary to speak in

-      detail.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      At nine o'clock that night his three friends sat near their roaring

-      camp-fire on the lake shore, wondering at his protracted absence. The

-      guide had turned in an hour previous, but the three were anxious, so they

-      sat and smoked, and discussed the question, piling great drift-logs on

-      their fire till it roared and cracked in fierce exultation and leaped high

-      in air to guide the wanderer home. Its long, crimson reflection stretched

-      like a pathway of flame far over the black waters of the lake, and the

-      three sat and waited, now glancing along this glowing path, anon

-      conversing in subdued tones. The lake was as still and dark as a lake of

-      pitch, and some way the three felt ill at ease, as though some evil

-      impended. At last the veteran of the trio broke a longer silence than

-      usual:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Boys, I don't like this. It's ten o'clock and he should have been back

-      long ago. I hope to Heaven&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      A touch on his arm from the man at his right caused him to glance quickly

-      lakeward.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Forty feet from them, drifting noiselessly into the firelight, was the

-      Peterboro, with Moeran kneeling as usual and sending the light craft

-      forward in some mysterious manner which required no perceptible movement

-      of the arms nor lifting of the paddle. It was a fine exhibition of his

-      skill to thus approach unheard three anxious, listening men on such a

-      night, for he had heard their voices good two miles away. His appearance

-      was so sudden, so ghostlike, that for a few seconds the party stared in

-      mute surprise at the forms of man and craft standing out in sharp relief

-      against the blackness of the night; then a whoop of delight welcomed him.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      He came ashore, swiftly picked up the canoe and turned it bottom upward on

-      the sand for the night, carried his rifle into camp, then approached the

-      fire and looked sharply round.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;The guide's asleep.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh, he is; &mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash; him!&rdquo; Then he flung himself down

-      on the sand. Something in his tone and manner warned his friends not to

-      talk, and they eyed him curiously. His face was white as death and drawn

-      with an expression of utter exhaustion, and marked with grimy lines,

-      showing where rivulets of sweat had trickled downward. As they looked, his

-      eyes closed; he was going to sleep as he lay.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Quietly the veteran busied himself getting food ready, and presently

-      roused the slumberer.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Here, old chap, have a nip and eat a bite. Why, you're dead beat. Where

-      on earth have you been?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      A strangely hollow voice answered:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;To the back lakes.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      His listeners whistled a combined long-drawn &ldquo;whew&rdquo; of amazement, for

-      right well they knew the leagues of toilsome travel this statement

-      implied.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;See anything?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Wounded the old bull badly, and trailed him from the lakes to within five

-      miles of here. That cur sleeping yonder sold us; but you hear me!&rdquo; he

-      exclaimed with sudden fierce energy, &ldquo;<i>I'll get that moose if I have to

-      stay in the woods forever!</i>&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The three looked at him in admiring silence, for they guessed that, in

-      spite of his terrible day's work, he intended starting again at daylight.

-      In a few moments he finished his meal and staggered to the tent, and fell

-      asleep as soon as he touched his blanket.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      When the party turned out next morning the canoe was gone, though the sun

-      was not yet clear, of the hills. After breakfast they started in quest of

-      grouse, working through the woods in the direction of the beaver meadows,

-      and finding plenty of birds. About ten o'clock they heard the distant

-      report of a rifle, followed in a few minutes by a second, and the veteran

-      exclaimed, &ldquo;That's him, for an even hundred, and he's got his moose, or

-      something strange has happened.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      At noon they returned to camp laden with grouse. No sign of the canoe as

-      yet, so they had dinner, and lounged about and fished during the

-      afternoon, casting many expectant glances down the lake for the laggard

-      canoe. Night fell, with still no sound or sign of the wanderer, and again

-      the camp-fire roared and flamed and sent its glowing reflection streaming

-      far over the black waste of water. And again the three sat waiting. At ten

-      o'clock the veteran rose and said, &ldquo;Keep a sharp lookout, boys, and don't

-      let him fool you again, and I'll get up a royal feed. He'll have

-      moose-meat in the canoe this time, for he said <i>he'd get that moose if

-      he had to stay in the woods forever</i>. He'll be dead beat, sure, for

-      he's probably dragged the head out with him.&rdquo; So they waited, piling the

-      fire high, and staring out over the lake for the first glimpse of the

-      canoe. Eleven o'clock and midnight came and went, and still no sign. Then

-      they piled the fire high for the last time and sought the tent. At the

-      door the veteran halted, and laying a hand on the shoulder of his chum,

-      drew him aside.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Why, whatever's the matter with you?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The old man's face wore a piteous expression, and his voice trembled as he

-      whispered:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Hush! Don't let <i>him</i> hear you&mdash;but there's something wrong.

-      Something horrible has happened&mdash;I feel it in my heart.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Nonsense, man! You're sleepy and nervous. He's all right. Why, he's just

-      cut himself a moose steak, and had a feed and laid down&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The sentence was never completed. A sound that caused both men to start

-      convulsively tore through the black stillness of the night. A horrible,

-      gurgling, demoniacal laugh came over the lake, and died away in fading

-      echoes among the hills. &ldquo;Woll-oll-all-ollow-wall-all-ollow!&rdquo; as though

-      some hideous fiend was laughing with his lips touching the water. They

-      knew what it was, for the loon's weird cry was perfectly familiar to them,

-      and they laughed too, but there was no mirth in their voices. Then one

-      sought the tent, but the veteran paced up and down upon the cold beach,

-      halting sometimes to replenish the fire or to stare out over the water,

-      until a pale light spread through the eastern sky. Then he too turned in

-      for a couple of hours of troubled, unrefreshing slumber.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The bright sunshine of an Indian summer's day brought a reaction and their

-      spirits rose wonderfully; but still the canoe tarried, and as the hours

-      wore away, the veteran grew moody again and the midday meal was a

-      melancholy affair. Early in the afternoon he exclaimed:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Boys, I tell you what it is: I can stand this no longer&mdash;something's

-      wrong, and we're going to paddle those two skiffs down to the beaver

-      meadow and find out what we can do, and we're going to start right now.

-      God forgive us if we have been idling here while we should have been

-      yonder!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Two in a boat they went, and the paddles never halted until the channel to

-      the beaver meadow was gained. Dividing forces, they circled in opposite

-      directions round the open, but only the taint of the long-dead moose

-      marked the spot. Then they fired three rifles in rapid succession and

-      listened anxiously, but only the rolling, bursting echoes of the woods

-      answered them.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Guide, where would he probably have gone?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Wa'al, he told you he'd run the old bull this way from the back lakes&mdash;thar's

-      another leetle mash a mile north of us; it's an awful mud-hole, and the

-      bull might possibly hev lit out fur thar. Enyhow, we'd best hunt the

-      closest spots first.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The picture of that marsh will haunt the memories of those three men until

-      their deaths. A few acres of muskeg, with broad reaches of sullen, black,

-      slimy water, its borders bottomless mud, covered with a loathsome green

-      scum, and a few pale-green, sickly-looking larches dotting the open&mdash;the

-      whole forming a repulsive blemish, like an ulcer, on the face of the

-      earth. All round rose a silent wall of noble evergreens, rising in massive

-      tiers upon the hills, with here and there a flame of gorgeous color where

-      the frost had touched perishable foliage. Overhead a hazy dome of dreamy

-      blue, with the sun smiling down through the gauzy curtains of the Indian

-      summer. Swinging in easy circles, high in air, were two ravens,

-      challenging each other in hollow tones, their orbits crossing and

-      recrossing as they narrowed in slow-descending spirals. &ldquo;Look, look at

-      him!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0026" id="linkimage-0026"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0124.jpg" alt="0124 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0124.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      One bird had stooped like a falling plummet, and now hung about fifty

-      yards above the farther bounds of the muskeg, beating the air with heavy,

-      sable pinions and croaking loudly to his mate above. Closing her wings,

-      she stooped with a whizzing rush to his level, and there the two hung

-      flapping side by side, their broad wings sometimes striking sharply

-      against each other, their hoarse, guttural notes sounding at intervals. A

-      nameless horror seized the men as they looked. Their hunter's instinct

-      told them that death lay below those flapping birds, and with one impulse

-      they hurried round on the firmer ground to the ill-omened spot.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The veteran, white-faced but active as a lad, tore his way through the

-      bordering cover first, halted and stared for an instant, then dropped his

-      rifle in the mud, threw up his hands and exclaimed in an agonized voice:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh, my God, my God!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      One by one they crashed through the brush and joined him, and stood

-      staring. No need for questions. Ten square yards of deep-trodden, reeking

-      mud and crushed grass, a trampled cap, and here and there a rag of brown

-      duck; a silver-mounted flask shining in a little pool of bloody water; a

-      stockless rifle-barrel, bent and soiled, sticking upright; beyond all a

-      huge, hairy body, and below it a suggestion of another body and a

-      blood-stained face, that even through its terrible disfigurement seemed to

-      scowl with grim determination. Throwing off their coats, they dragged the

-      dead moose aside and strove to raise Moeran's body, but in vain. Something

-      held it; the right leg was broken and they found the foot fast fixed in a

-      forked root the treacherous slime had concealed. In the right hand was

-      firmly clutched the haft of his hunting knife, and in the moose's throat

-      was the broken blade. The veteran almost smiled through his tears as they

-      worked to loosen the prisoned foot, and muttered, &ldquo;Caught like a bear in a

-      trap; he'd have held his own with a fair chance.&rdquo; Carrying the poor,

-      stamped, crushed body to the shade, they laid it upon the moss and

-      returned to read the story of the fearful battle. To their hunter's eyes

-      it read as plainly as printed page. The great bull, sore from his previous

-      wound, had sought the swamp. Moeran had trailed him to the edge and

-      knocked him down the first shot, and after reloading had run forward to

-      bleed his prize. Just as he got within reach the bull had struggled up and

-      charged, and Moeran had shot him through the second time. Then he had

-      apparently dodged about in the sticky mud and struck the bull terrific

-      blows with the clubbed rifle, breaking the stock and bending the barrel,

-      and getting struck himself repeatedly by the terrible forefeet of the

-      enraged brute. To and fro, with ragged clothes and torn flesh, he had

-      dodged, the deadly muskeg behind and on either side, the furious bull

-      holding the only path to the saving woods. At last he had entrapped his

-      foot in the forked root, and the bull had rushed in and beaten him down,

-      and as he fell he struck with his knife ere the tremendous weight crushed

-      out his life. The veteran picked up the rifle-barrel, swept it through a

-      pool and examined the action, and found a shell jammed fast.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      In despairing voice he said, &ldquo;Oh, boys, boys, if that shell had but come

-      into place our friend had won the day, but he died like the noble fellow

-      he was!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      With rifles and coats they made a stretcher and carried him sadly out to

-      the lake.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;<i>He would get that moose, or stay in the woods forever!</i>&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div style="height: 4em;">

-      <br /><br /><br /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h2>

-      THE MYSTERY OF A CHRISTMAS HUNT, By Talbot Torrance

-    </h2>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0027" id="linkimage-0027"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="figleft" style="width:20%;">

-      <img src="images/9129.jpg" alt="9129 " width="100%" /><br /><a

-      href="images/9129.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </div>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Clug!&rdquo; The wad went home in the last shell, and as I removed it from the

-      loader and finished the fill of my belt I heaved a sigh of profound relief

-      at the completion of a troublesome job.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I hate making cartridges. Perhaps I am a novice, and have not a good kit,

-      and am lazy, and clumsy, and impatient, and&mdash;&mdash; But go on and

-      account for it yourself at greater length, if you will, my friends; only

-      accept my solemn statement that I detest the operation, which, I am

-      convinced, ought to be confined to able-bodied colored men with

-      perseverance and pachydermatous knuckles.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      An ordinary man is always in fluster and fever before he completes loading

-      up for a day's gunning. His patent plugger becomes inexplicably and

-      painfully fractious; his percussions are misfits; his No. 10 wads prove to

-      be No. 12s; his shot sack is sure to spill; his canister is certain to

-      sustain a dump into the water pail, and, when he begins to reflect on all

-      the unmentionable <i>lapsi linguæ</i> of which his numerous vexations are

-      the immediately exciting, though possibly not the responsible, cause, he

-      is apt to conclude that, say what you may in favor of the breechloader,

-      there are a certain few points which commend the old-time muzzle-loader,

-      especially when it comes around to charging a shell.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0028" id="linkimage-0028"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0130.jpg" alt="0130 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0130.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      At all events, that is the kind of man I now am; and if the reader is not

-      prepared to absolutely indorse me all through these crotchety cogitations,

-      may I not hope he will at least bear with me patiently and give me time to

-      outgrow it, if possible? But, as I was saying, I have charged up and am

-      ready to sally forth and join the hunting party of the Blankville Gun

-      Club, who had organized a match for Christmas Eve, a bright, nippy day of

-      &ldquo;an open winter&rdquo;&mdash;as experienced in Northeastern Ontario, at any

-      rate. I don my game bag, strap on my belt, pick up my newly-bought

-      hammerless and prepare to leave the house. My cocker Charlie, long since

-      cognizant of what my preparations meant, is at heel.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      There is a wild light in his eyes, but, self-contained animal that he is,

-      not a yelp, whine or even tail wag is manifested to detract from his

-      native dignity and self possession. &ldquo;Native&rdquo; dignity? Aye! My dog boasts

-      it naturally; and yet, at the same time, I fancy the switch and I have had

-      something to do in developing it and teaching the pup its apparently

-      unconscious display.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0029" id="linkimage-0029"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0136.jpg" alt="0136 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0136.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You're no fool dog, are you, Charlie? You're no funny, festive,

-      frolicsome dog, who cannot hold himself in when a run is on the programme&mdash;eh,

-      boy?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The silky-coated canine knows as well as I do that he is in for an

-      afternoon a-wood. He has the inclination to leap and roll and essay to

-      jump out of his hide. Yet the only answer he dare give to the inquiry is

-      an appealing glance from his hazel orbs up at his master's immovable face.

-      Yes, my dog Charlie is sober and sensible, and I am proud of these

-      characteristics and their usefulness to me before the gun.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0030" id="linkimage-0030"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0134.jpg" alt="0134 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0134.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Good-bye, little woman!&rdquo; I sing out cheerily to my wife as I pass down

-      the hall. She comes to the door to see me off. Sometimes, perhaps, a man

-      will find his adieu on an occasion of this kind responded to uncordially,

-      not to say frigidly, or perhaps not at all. But he must not grieve deeply

-      over it or let it act as an excitative of his mean moroseness or angry

-      passion. Think the thing all over. You are to be far away from home. Why

-      should not the thought of the vacant chair&mdash;next to that of the

-      demonstrative and exacting baby at meal time&mdash;rise up and sadden your

-      wife? Can you wonder at her distant bearing as she foresees how she will

-      sigh &ldquo;for the touch of a vanished hand&rdquo;&mdash;on the coal scuttle and

-      water pail? Of course, she will &ldquo;miss your welcome footsteps&rdquo;&mdash;carrying

-      in kindlings, and the &ldquo;dear, familiar voice&rdquo;&mdash;calling up the

-      chickens. And so you cannot in reason expect her invariably to answer your

-      kindly <i>adios</i> in a gladsome, gleesome, wholly satisfied sort of way.

-      But never you go away without the goodbye on your part&mdash;the honest,

-      manly, loving-toned good-bye that will ring in her ears in your absence

-      and cause her to fancy that perhaps you are not such a selfish old bear

-      after all.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      With some of us men&mdash;only a limited few, of course, and we are not

-      inclined to think over and enumerate them&mdash;it is unhappily the case

-      that

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br />

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      We have cheerful words for the stranger,

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      And smiles for the sometime guest;

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      But oft for our own the bitter tone,

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      Though we love our own the best.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br />

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;will miss your welcome footsteps.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0031" id="linkimage-0031"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0134.jpg" alt="0134 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0134.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      Now, if such men only thought

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      How many go forth in the morning,

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      Who never come back at night!

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      And hearts are broken for harsh words spoken,

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      Which time may never set right,

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br />

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      what a different atmosphere might permeate the domicile on &ldquo;first days,&rdquo;

-       to say nothing of the rest of the time!

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The real fact of the matter is, men and brothers, we do not accurately

-      appreciate the objections which the domestic partners may entertain

-      against our occasional outings. For my part I verily believe they are

-      largely, if not entirely, prompted by the feeling that

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br />

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      There's nae luck aboot the hoose,

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      There's nae luck at a'!

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      There's nae luck about the hoose,

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      Since oor guid mon's avva'.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br />

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      And here we go on thinking it is purely a matter of petty petulance and

-      small selfishness on their part! Come, gentlemen, let us once and for all

-      rightly appreciate the situation and resolve to do better in the future!

-      But let us return to our sheep. My hand is on the door knob, when,

-      pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat, is heard the tread of tiny feet. It is Ted, my

-      little two year old, coming to say good-bye to papa. I take him up and

-      sing gaily:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br />

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent20">

-      Bye, baby bunting,

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent20">

-      Papa goes a-hunting,

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent20">

-      To get a little rabbit skin

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent20">

-      To wrap the baby bunting in.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br />

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      How the little man crows and gurgles in glee! Then he grows demonstrative

-      and he wants to take off my cap. He makes a grab at my game bag. As I put

-      him down gently he tries to disarm me and possess himself of the gun.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I say, what an awful bother about the house of the sportsman is the

-      toddling tot of a baby! He is always getting hold of your gun swab for a

-      fish pole or to bang the dog about. Putting holes in your fish basket with

-      a big nail or a table knife is a supreme source of delight to him. He has

-      a mania for planting carpet tacks in your hunting boots. Making

-      smokestacks for mud houses with your brass shells is a passion with him.

-      If he can get hold of your ammunition to make paste of the powder, and

-      pulp of the wads, and a hopeless mixture of the shot, he is simply in his

-      element. Give him possession of your lines and access to your fly book and

-      he enjoys an hour of what is, to him, immense fun, but to you pronounced

-      and positive destruction.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      And yet&mdash;you wouldn't be without, that self-same baby if to keep him

-      cost you every shooting iron and foot of tackle you ever owned or hoped to

-      own, and at the same time destroyed the prospect of you ever again having

-      a &ldquo;day out&rdquo; on this rare old earth of ours.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      It is quite safe to say that the article for which you would exchange that

-      merry, mischievous toddler of yours, who clasps your brown neck with

-      little white, soft arms and presses a sweet baby kiss to your bristled

-      lips, as he sees you off on an outing, has not now an existence&mdash;and

-      you do not seem to exactly remember when it had. And you do not care

-      whether he destroys your possessions; they can be replaced.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Yes, indeed! Even you, most inveterate and selfish and calloused votary of

-      the chase&mdash;you have a tender spot in your hard old heart for the baby

-      boy. He may not be all that is orderly, obedient, non-combatable,

-      non-destructive, but still we all love him! Not one of us, at all events,

-      but will frankly admit that we respect him&mdash;for his father's sake.

-      Need anything more be said?

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      And do not we also respect those who depict him in tenderness and

-      affection?

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Don't we think all the more of Scanlon the actor for his inimitable

-      &ldquo;Peek-a-boo?&rdquo; and of Charles Mackay for his &ldquo;Baby Mine?&rdquo; and of Bret Harte

-      for his &ldquo;Luck of Roaring Camp?&rdquo; and of Dickens&mdash;wasn't it Dickens who

-      wrote:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br />

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      When the lessons and tasks all are ended,

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      And the school for the day is dismissed,

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      And the little ones gather around me

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      To bid me good-bye and be kissed.

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      Oh, the little, white arms that encircle

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      My neck in a tender embrace!

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      Oh, the smiles that are halos of Heaven

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      Shedding light in a desolate place!

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br />

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Has it ever occurred to you, my friend, that the baby is the same

-      unchanged, unimproved article since the world began? Men are making

-      smokeless powder, constructing pneumatic bicycle tires, inventing

-      long-distance guns, training horses down to two minutes, getting sprinters

-      to cover 100 yards close to nine seconds&mdash;revolutionizing everything,

-      but leaving the baby the old-time brand!

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      People seem satisfied with the original make, and far from any movement to

-      abolish it as out of date. The sentiment would appear to be pretty

-      universal:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br />

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      Drear were the world without a child,

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      Where happy infant never smiled.

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      We sooner could the flowerets spare,

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      The tender bud and blossom fair,

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      Or breath of spring time in the air.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br />

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I have said &ldquo;bye-bye&rdquo; to my tiny Ted half a dozen times and at last am

-      about to escape during his sudden flight to another part of the house,

-      when I am arrested by the eager cry, half in inquiry, half in jubilation,

-      &ldquo;Baby barlo! Papa, baby barlo! Dee!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      There he stands, holding up my little patent flask as though he had made a

-      wonderful discovery. To humor the child I took the little companion, said

-      &ldquo;Ta-ta,&rdquo; and was in the act of slipping it back to my wife, when I decided

-      to keep it. I am not partial to the cup that cheers and also inebriates,

-      and yet I have an appreciation of the pocket pistol that warms, sustains

-      and heartens in a long tramp on a zero afternoon with only a dog for

-      companionship and the chances of bagging anything much reduced to a

-      minimum. I stepped to the sideboard and filled the &ldquo;barlo&rdquo; <i>quantum suff</i>.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Ah, Scrib! You're early on deck&rdquo; was the grunting of the Doc. &ldquo;None of

-      the others are here yet. But I guess we'll not have long to wait. There is

-      surely no laggard or lunkhead in our jolly sextette. On such an occasion

-      as a Christmas Eve hunt, with an oyster supper at stake, the resources of

-      our whole happy hunting grounds on trial, and the pluck and prowess of six

-      rival sports in question there should certainly be no such word as

-      'funk!&rdquo;'

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Even as the Doc spoke Tinker dropped in. Hardly was he seated when Shy

-      puffed his way into the little smoking room. We waited five minutes for

-      the Judge, and had become impatient before Budge put in an appearance.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      What an assortment of unique nomenclature! Gun-club designations they

-      were, of course. In polite society &ldquo;Scrib&rdquo; was the village editor;

-      &ldquo;Tinker&rdquo; was our general store keeper; &ldquo;The Judge&rdquo; was young Lawyer B&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;;

-      &ldquo;Budge&rdquo; was mine host of the Queen's Arms, and the &ldquo;Doc&rdquo; was just the

-      doctor&mdash;our large-hearted, clever, hard-working local M. D., the life

-      and soul of the sport-loving community, as he was also the idol of the

-      village and district for his skill, his unselfishness and his unvarying <i>bonhomie</i>.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Budge!&rdquo; exclaims the Doc. &ldquo;As president of this club I fine you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I rise to a point of order!&rdquo; breaks in the Judge. &ldquo;This meeting is not

-      yet duly open, and, at all events, this is a special one, and business of

-      the regular order must be excluded. Referring to the constitution&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh, to thunder with the constitution! Let us get off on our hunt!&rdquo; And

-      Tinker looks annihilation at the order pointer.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Well, well, fellows,&rdquo; laughs the Doc, &ldquo;I shall rule partially in favor of

-      both. I shall rule that Budge do tell us his latest joke as a penalty.

-      Come now, prisoner, out with it and save your fine!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Say, boys,&rdquo; begins Budge, deprecatingly, &ldquo;don't insist. I'm sorry I was

-      late, but the fact is I was giving elaborate orders for the supper, which

-      I know it will be just my luck to get stuck for. One of my special orders

-      was to secure a magnificent roast and have it cooked in Ben Jonson style.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Ben Jonson style? How is that?&rdquo; queries the Doc.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;'O, rare Ben Jonson!' There, Mr. President,&rdquo; he adds, when the laugh

-      ceases, &ldquo;I believe that debt is squared.&rdquo; We have made out our list and

-      fixed points, ranging from chipmunk, 1, to bear, 1,000.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You leave out quail, I notice. Now that is an omission which&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      But the Judge is cut short on all sides.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Out in the wild and woolly West, from whence you have but recently

-      emigrated to civilization and refinement,&rdquo; remarks the Doc, &ldquo;quail are

-      about as plentiful as hedge sparrows are here. But a quail has not been

-      seen in this section for ten years, I'll venture to say. No, Judge, we

-      needn't point on quail this time!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;And yet,&rdquo; I observe in an encouraging tone, &ldquo;who knows but we may each

-      and all happen on a covey.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;That is extravagant. But if any man should be lucky enough to bag a

-      brace, that I may enjoy one more good square meal of quail on toast, I'll

-      stand the supper.&rdquo; And the Judge looked straight at Budge.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Now that is what I would call extravagant&mdash;supper for a whole party

-      in consideration of a dish of quail on toast. Suppose you yourself should

-      bag the brace. But this reminds me of the man who ordered quail on toast

-      in a Boston restaurant. He was brought in some toast. He waited a while.

-      Presently he called the waiter and repeated the order. 'There you are,

-      sir!' answered Thomas. 'That? That is toast, of course; but where's the

-      quail?' The waiter pointed to a small speck in the centre of each slice,

-      looking like a baked fly. 'Ah! so this dish is quail on toast, is it?'

-      'Yes, sir!' 'Then you just remove it and bring me turkey on toast!'&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      We draw lots for choice of directions, and fix 8 p. m. sharp for

-      reassembling to compare scores. My choice fell on a due north course,

-      along which, seven miles distant, lay cover where I had scarcely ever

-      failed to find at least fair sport and to take game, such as it was. And I

-      went it alone&mdash;barring my dog.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0032" id="linkimage-0032"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0142.jpg" alt="0142 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0142.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      Seven miles of hard footing it and I had only the brush of a couple of red

-      squirrels, the wing of a chicken hawk, and the lean carcass of a small

-      rabbit to show. I had sighted a fox far out of range, and had been taken

-      unawares by a brace of birds which Charlie had nobly flushed and I had

-      shockingly muffed.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The dog had followed the birds deeper into the wood, leaving me angry and

-      uncertain what to do. Suddenly I heard his yelp of rage and disappointment

-      give place to his business bark, and I knew my pup had a tree for me. It

-      was a sound not to be mistaken. My dog never now plays spoof with me by

-      tonguing a tree for hair. His business bark means partridge every time. I

-      hurried on as the dog gave tongue more sharp and peremptory, taking a

-      skirt to avoid a tangled piece of underbrush as I began-to approach the

-      critical spot.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The ruins of an old shanty lay fifty yards to my left, and between them

-      and me was a sort of <i>cache</i> or root cellar, the sides intact but the

-      roof half gone.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      All of a sudden there broke on my ear a sound I had not heard for many a

-      day.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I listened, almost dumfounded. There it is again! And no mistaking it. It

-      is the pipe of a quail!

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      It came from a patch of meadow not many rods off, and it set every nerve

-      in my body a-tingling. Charlie and his partridges were out of mind

-      instanter. I had no manner of use for them at that supreme moment.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;It's no stray bird!&rdquo; I mentally ejaculated. &ldquo;Perhaps it's a regular

-      Kansas covey!&rdquo; Heavens, what luck! The boys&mdash;the Judge&mdash;quail on

-      toast&mdash;the laugh&mdash;the amazement&mdash;the consternation&mdash;I

-      conjured all these things up in my excited brain in less time than it

-      takes to tell it.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I started forward with every fibre a-tension. I was wild to get even a

-      glimpse of the little strangers.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0033" id="linkimage-0033"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0144.jpg" alt="0144 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0144.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      Suddenly&mdash;enough almost to puzzle me&mdash;the pipe was answered from

-      the mouth of the old potato pit, and the next instant &ldquo;whir-r-r-r!&rdquo; rose

-      the birds, and &ldquo;bang! bang!&rdquo; I gave them right and left at a range and

-      with a calculation that left three only to join and tell the tale to the

-      whistler in the meadow. Seven was the drop, and the birds were as plump

-      and pretty as ever I had set eyes on. I fairly chuckled aloud in glee at

-      the surprise I had in store for my club mates. I sat down, took a

-      congratulatory nip, and actually toyed with the quail as a boy would with

-      the first fruits of his initial day's outing with his own boughten gun!

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      My faithful dog Charlie had during this time stuck to his birds. I could

-      hear his angry bark growing angrier, and I could detect, as I fancied, a

-      shade of impatience and disappointment therein. A crack at a partridge

-      will be a change, I thought, and so I hurried in Charlie's direction.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      There he sat on a rotten stump, with eyes fixed on the brushy top of a

-      dead pine.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I looked that top over, limb by limb, but not a sign of a feather could I

-      detect. I made a circuit, and skinned every twig aloft in a vain endeavor

-      to discover a roosting bird. I began to think the pup was daft, but I

-      dismissed the reflection promptly as ungenerous and unfair to my trusty

-      cocker. I make solemn affidavit that, though I could not note the

-      suggestion of a partridge up that pine, my spaniel could see it as plain

-      as a pike staff.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I'll climb the stump!&rdquo; said I. <i>Mirabile dictu!</i> There, on lower

-      limbs, one above the other and hugging the bark so close that they seemed

-      part of it, were my missed brace!

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Bang!&rdquo; and the topmost tumbles, nearly knocking his mate off as he falls.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Bang!&rdquo; and down comes No. 2.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0034" id="linkimage-0034"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="figright" style="width:20%;">

-      <img src="images/8146.jpg" alt="8146 " width="100%" /><br /><a

-      href="images/8146.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </div>

-    <p>

-      Charlie manifests a sense of relieved anxiety and satisfaction that of

-      itself rewards me for the perplexing search.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      But a drowsiness had been creeping over me till its influence had become

-      almost irresistible. I felt stupid and sleep-inclined.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Almost without knowing what I did I pulled out my flask, poured &ldquo;just a

-      nip&rdquo; a fair portion in the cup and drank it off. The twilight was coming

-      on and casting its sombre shadows, <i>avant coureurs</i> of the black

-      winter night that was soon to envelop the scene for a brief while, till

-      fair Luna lit up the heavens and chased Darkness to its gloomy lair.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I have an indistinct recollection of recalling lines I have read somewhere

-      or other:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br />

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      When Life's last sun is sinking slow and sad,

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent20">

-      How cold and dark its lengthened shadows

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent30">

-      fall.

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent20">

-      They lie extended on the straightened path

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent20">

-      Whose narrow close, the grave, must end it

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent30">

-      all.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br />

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      Oh, Life so grudging in your gifts, redeem

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent20">

-      By one great boon the losses of the Past!

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      Grant me a full imperishable Faith,

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent20">

-      And let the Light be with me till the last.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br />

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Then all became a blank!

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Full? I never knew him to more than taste liquor. No, no! You're

-      mistaken. He has either been knocked senseless by some accident or

-      mischance, or else he has fallen in a fit.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      It was the Doc who spoke. I suddenly grew seized of consciousness to the

-      extent of recognizing my old friend's voice. But to indicate the fact

-      physically was impossible. I lay in a sort of trance, with lips that would

-      not open and hands that would not obey.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh, all right, Doc! You ought to know!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      This time I caught the voice of the Judge.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;But he is in a pitiable plight. We must get to him and move him or he may

-      perhaps perish, if he's not gone now. Drat that dog! I don't want to shoot

-      him; and yet he'll tear us if we try to lay hand on his master. But lay

-      hand on him we must. Is it a go, Doc?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;It's the only alternative, Judge. I like canine fidelity; but hang me if

-      this brute doesn't suit too well! We'll have to get him out of the way and

-      succor the man. Give it to him, Judge!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Stop!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      By a superhuman effort, through some agency I never could account for, I

-      managed to utter that one word in a sort of half expostulatory, half

-      authoritative tone, or rather groan.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0035" id="linkimage-0035"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0148.jpg" alt="0148 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0148.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      It broke the spell.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      My eyes opened. My arms regained power. Instinctively I reached out a hand

-      and drew my canine guardian toward me, placing a cheek against his cold,

-      moist nose. That was enough for Charlie. The faithful brute grew wild with

-      joy. He barked, whined, jumped, capered, pirouetted after his own stump,

-      and, in a word, did the most tremendous despite to all my careful training

-      in the line of reserved and dignified demeanor.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I rose to a sitting posture and finally drew myself up on my feet, gazing

-      around me in a bewildered, uncertain sort of way.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Hello, boys, what's the matter?&rdquo; I managed to articulate.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Hello, and what's the matter yourself?&rdquo; replied the Doc.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yes, that's precisely what we came out here to know,&rdquo; put in the Judge.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I guess&mdash;I think&mdash;yes, let me see!&mdash;I believe I&mdash;I&mdash;must

-      have dropped off in a little doze, boys! Very kind of you to look me up.

-      Only&mdash;say, you never surely meant to shoot my dog? I'd have haunted

-      both of you to your respective dying days if you had, supposing I was a

-      cold corpse instead of a man taking a little nap.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Taking a little nap! Hear him! I should rather say you were. But, look

-      here, Scrib, do your little naps always mean two or three hours of the

-      soundest sleep a man ever slept who wasn't dead or drugged?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Dead or drugged, Doc? Pshaw, you're away off. You can see for yourself I

-      am not dead, and I can vow I wasn't drugged.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Then you've been intoxicated, by George; and as president of the

-      Blank-ville Gun Club I'll fine you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Quail, as I live!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;One&mdash;two&mdash;three; three brace and a half, Doc, and beauties,

-      too! It does my heart good to handle the darlings. Doc, if Scrib has been

-      full forty times to-day, he has more than atoned for the <i>lapsi</i> with

-      this glorious bag. Whoop! Ya, ha! There'll be quail on toast for the whole

-      party.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      By the time the Judge's jubilation had ceased I had about regained my

-      normal condition and we were ready to make tracks homeward.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The clock strikes the midnight hour as I re-enter my own home. My wife

-      sits rocking the cradle, in which lies our darling Ted. She turns a

-      weary-looking, tear-stained face to me.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Its all right, dear,&rdquo; I gently remark, &ldquo;I'm quite safe, as you see.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I haven't the slightest doubt of it, sir,&rdquo; she returns, icily. &ldquo;It's not

-      of you I've been thinking, but of baby.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Baby,&rdquo; I repeat inquiringly. &ldquo;What is the matter with him?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;There is nothing the matter with him, but there is no telling what might

-      have been. And all owing to your foolish indulgence of his fancy for

-      bottles.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What does it mean, dear?&rdquo; I venture. &ldquo;It means that you had not been gone

-      an hour when I found Ted with that little two-ounce phial you left half

-      filled with laudanum on the lower pantry shelf yesterday. He had evidently

-      climbed a chair and reached it down. The cork was out and the bottle was

-      empty. You can perhaps imagine my feelings. I didn't know whether he had

-      taken the stuff or not, but was in an agony of anxiety on the point, you

-      may be sure. The doctor was away hunting, you were away hunting, and here

-      was I fairly consumed with apprehension lest my baby had poisoned

-      himself.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Like a flash the whole mystery of my stupor sleep revealed itself to me.

-      &ldquo;Baby barlo&rdquo;&mdash;flask&mdash;laudanum phial&mdash;whiskey&mdash;it was

-      all as clear as day.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I said: &ldquo;But it transpires he hadn't taken any of the laudanum, eh?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yes, thank Heaven! But for all of you&mdash;&mdash;-&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Listen, please. All I want to say is that what Ted missed I got. Do you

-      understand?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Do <i>I</i> understand! Are <i>you</i> in your sane and sober senses,

-      William?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I have a shrewd suspicion that I am,&rdquo; I replied, with a slight laugh,

-      &ldquo;and being so, I will repeat it: Baby didn't down the poison; but I guess

-      I made up for that, because <i>I did!</i>&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Then I told her the story.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Of course I gained my point. It ended with&mdash;&mdash; but, no matter.

-      The Judge stood the supper in consideration of quail on toast being

-      incorporated in the menu, and we sat around the festive board in the

-      Queen's Arms a week later, and talked over our Xmas Eve hunting match. No

-      one was disposed to question the sentiment in a speech by the Doc, who

-      declared: &ldquo;Fellows, our prowess as a gun club is growing, and I verily

-      believe the old district is getting to be once more something like a

-      half-decent hunting ground. Let us keep together, be as men and brothers

-      always, and&mdash;I was nearly overlooking it&mdash;let us invariably wash

-      out our pocket pistols before filling 'em up afresh.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div style="height: 4em;">

-      <br /><br /><br /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h2>

-      HERNE THE HUNTER, By William Perry Brown

-    </h2>

-    <p class="pfirst">

-      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">H</span>erne the Hunter

-      was tall, brown and grizzled. The extreme roundness of his shoulders

-      indicated strength rather than infirmity, while the severing of his great

-      neck at a blow would have made a feudal executioner famous in his craft.

-      An imaginative man might have divined something comely beneath the complex

-      conjunction of lines and ridges that made up his features, but it would

-      have been more by suggestion, however, than by any actual resemblance to

-      beauty traceable thereon. The imprint of strength, severity and endurance

-      was intensified by an open contempt of appearance; only to a subtle

-      second-sight was revealed aught nobler, sweeter and sadder, like faint

-      stars twinkling behind filmy clouds.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Some town-bred Nimrod, with a misty Shakespearean memory, had added to his

-      former patronymic of &ldquo;Old Herne&rdquo; that of Windsor's ghostly visitor. The

-      mountaineers saw the fitness of the title, and &ldquo;Herne the Hunter&rdquo; became

-      widely current.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      His place of abode was as ambiguous as his history, being somewhere beyond

-      the &ldquo;Dismal,&rdquo; amid the upper caves and gorges of the Nantahalah. The

-      Dismal was a weird, wild region of brake and laurel, walled in by lonely

-      mountains, with a gruesome outlet between two great cliffs, that nearly

-      met in mid-air hundreds of feet over a sepulchral Canyon, boulder-strewn,

-      and thrashed by a sullen torrent, that led from a dolorous labyrinth,

-      gloomy at midday, and at night resonant with fierce voices and sad

-      sighings.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Far down in Whippoorwill Cove, the mountaineers told savage tales of

-      adventure about the outskirts of the Dismal, yet, beyond trapping round

-      the edges or driving for deer, it was to a great extent a <i>terra

-      incognita</i> to all, unless Herne the Hunter was excepted.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;The devil air in the man, 'nd hopes him out'n places no hones' soul keers

-      to pester hisse'f long of.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      This was common opinion, though a few averred that &ldquo;Old Herne 'nd the

-      devil wern't so master thick atter all.&rdquo; Said one: &ldquo;Why, the dinged old

-      fool totes his Bible eroun' ez riglar ez he do his huntin'-shirt. Onct

-      when the parson wuz holdin' the big August meetin' down ter Ebeneezer

-      Meetin'-house, he stepped in. The meetin' was a gittin' ez cold ez hen's

-      feet, 'nd everybody a lookin' at Herne the Hunter, when down he draps onto

-      his knees, 'nd holdin' on by his rifle he 'gun ter pray like a house

-      afire. Wal, he prayed 'nd he prayed, 'twel the people, arter thur skeer

-      wuz over, 'gun ter pray 'nd shout too, 'nd fust they all knowed, the front

-      bench wuz plum full of mou'ners. Wal, they hed a hog-killin' time fur a

-      while, 'nd all sot on by Herne the Hunter, but when they quieted down 'nd

-      begun ter luk fer him&mdash;by jing!&mdash;he wern't thar. Nobody hed seed

-      him get erway, 'nd that set 'em ter thinkin', 'nd the yupshot wuz they hed

-      the bes' meetin' old Ebeneezer hed seed in many a year.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Once a belated hunter discovered, when the fog came down, that he was lost

-      amid the upper gorges of the Nantahalahs. While searching for some cranny

-      wherein to pass the night, he heard a voice seemingly in mid-air before

-      him, far out over an abyss of seething vapor which he feared concealed a

-      portion of the dreaded Dismal. Memories of Herne the Hunter crowded upon

-      him, and he strove to retrace his steps, but fell into a trail that led

-      him to a cave which seemed to bar his further way. The voice came nearer;

-      his blood chilled as he distinguished imprecations, prayers and entreaties

-      chaotically mingled, and all the while approaching him. He fled into the

-      cave, and peering thence, beheld a shadowy form loom through the mist,

-      gesticulating as it came.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      A whiff blew aside shreds of the fog, and he saw Herne the Hunter on the

-      verge of a dizzy cliff, shaking his long rifle, his hair disheveled, his

-      eyes dry and fiery, and his huge frame convulsed by the emotions that

-      dominated him. The very fury and pathos of his passion were terrifying,

-      and the watcher shrank back as old Herne, suddenly dropping his rifle,

-      clutched at the empty air, then paused dejectedly.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Always thus!&rdquo; he said, in a tone of deep melancholy. &ldquo;Divine in form&mdash;transfigured&mdash;beautiful&mdash;oh,

-      so beautiful!&mdash;yet ever with the same accursed face. I have prayed

-      over these visitations. I, have sought in God's word that confirmation of

-      my hope which should yet save me from despair; but, when rising from my

-      supplications, the blest vision confronts me&mdash;the curse is ever there&mdash;thwarting

-      its loveliness&mdash;reminding me of what was, but will never be again.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      He drew a tattered Bible from his bosom and searched it intently. He was a

-      sight at once forbidding and piteous, as he stood with wind-fluttered

-      garments, his foot upon the edge of a frightful precipice, his head bent

-      over the book as though devouring with his eyes some sacred antidote

-      against the potency of his sorrow. Then he looked up, and the Bible fell

-      from his hands. His eyes became fixed; he again clutched at the air, then

-      fell back with a despairing gesture, averting his face the while.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Out of my sight!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Your eyes are lightning, and your smile is

-      death. I will have no more of you&mdash;no more! And yet&mdash;O God! O

-      God!&mdash;what dare I&mdash;what can I do without you?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      He staggered back and made directly for the cavern. The watcher shrank

-      back, while Herne the Hunter brushed blindly by, leaving Bible and rifle

-      on the rock without. Then the wanderer, slipping out, fled down the narrow

-      trail as though there were less peril from the dizzy cliffs around than in

-      the society of the strange man whose fancies peopled these solitudes with

-      such soul-harrowing phantoms.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Thus for years Herne the Hunter had been a mystery, a fear, and a

-      fascination to the mountaineers; recoiling from men, abhorring women,

-      rebuffing curiosity, yet' at times strangely tender, sad, and ever

-      morbidly religious. He clung to his Bible as his last earthly refuge from

-      his darker self, and to the aspirations it engendered as a bane to the

-      fatalistic stirrings within him.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      He was a mighty hunter and lived upon the proceeds of his skill. Once or

-      twice a year he would appear at some mountain store, fling down a package

-      of skins, and demand its worth in powder and lead. The jean-clad loungers

-      would regard him askance, few venturing to idly speak with him, and none

-      repeating the experiment. His mien daunted the boldest. If women were

-      there he would stand aloof until they left; on meeting them in the road he

-      would sternly avert his eyes as though from a distasteful presence. One

-      day the wife of a storekeeper, waiting on him in her husband's absence,

-      ventured to say, while wrapping up his purchases:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I've all'ays wonnered, Mr. Herne, what makes ye wanter git outen the

-      wimmen folks' way? Mos' men likes ter have 'em eroun'.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Herne the Hunter frowned heavily, but made no reply.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I'm shore, if ye had a good wife long with ye way up thar whur ye live,

-      she'd make ye a leetle more like a man 'nd less like a&mdash;a&mdash;&rdquo; she

-      hesitated over a term which might censure yet not give offense.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Like a beast you would say.&rdquo; He exclaimed then with vehemence: &ldquo;Were the

-      necks of all women in one, and had I my hands on it, I'd strangle them

-      all, though hell were their portion thereafter.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      He made a gesture as of throttling a giant, snatched his bundle from the

-      woman's hand and took himself off up the road with long strides.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      That night was a stormy one. Herne the Hunter was covering the last ten

-      miles between him and the Dismal in a pelting rain. The incident at the

-      store, trivial as it was, had set his blood aflame. He prayed and fought

-      against himself, oblivious of the elements and the darkness, sheltering

-      his powder beneath his shirt of skins where his Bible lay secure. In his

-      ears was the roar of wind and the groans of the tortured forest. Dark

-      ravines yawned beside him, out of which the wolf howled and the mountain

-      owl laughed; and once came a scream like a child, yet stronger and more

-      prolonged. He knew the panther's voice, yet he heeded nothing.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      At last another cry, unmistakably human, rose nearer by. Then he paused,

-      like a hound over a fresher scent, until it was repeated. He made his way

-      around a shoulder of the mountain, and aided by the gray light of a

-      cloud-hidden moon, approached the figures of a woman, a boy and a horse,

-      all three dripping and motionless.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Thank God! we will not die here, after all,&rdquo; exclaimed the female, as

-      Herne the Hunter grimly regarded them. &ldquo;Oh, sir, we have missed the way.

-      This boy was guiding me to the survey camp of Captain Renfro, my husband,

-      on the upper Swananoa. He has sprained his foot, and we have been lost for

-      hours. Can you take us to a place of shelter? I will pay you well&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I hear a voice from the pit,&rdquo; said Herne, fiercely. &ldquo;It is the way with

-      your sex. You think, though you sink the world, that with money you can

-      scale Heaven. Stay here&mdash;rot&mdash;starve&mdash;perish&mdash;what

-      care I!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      After this amazing outburst he turned away, but her terror of the night

-      overbore her fear of this strange repulse, and she grasped his arm. He

-      shook himself free, though the thrill accompanying her clasp staggered

-      him. For years no woman's hand had touched him; but at this rebuff she

-      sank down, crying brokenly:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What shall I do? I should not have started. They warned me below, but I

-      thought the boy knew the way. Oh, sir! if you have a heart, do not leave

-      us here.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;A heart!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;What's that? A piece of flesh that breeds endless

-      woes in bosoms such as yours. All men's should be of stone&mdash;as mine

-      is now!&rdquo; He paused, then said abruptly: &ldquo;Up with you and follow me. I

-      neither pity nor sympathize; but for the sake of her who bore me, I will

-      give you such shelter as I have.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      He picked up the boy, who, knowing him, had sat stupefied with fear, and

-      bade the woman follow him.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;But the horse?&rdquo; she said, hesitating.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Leave it,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;The brute is the best among you, but whither we

-      go no horse may follow.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      He turned, taking up the boy in his arms, and she dumbly followed him,

-      trembling, faint, yet nerved by her fears to unusual exertion. So rapid

-      was his gait, encumbered though he was, that she kept him in view with

-      difficulty. Through the gloom she could divine the perils that environed

-      their ever upward way. The grinding of stricken trees, the brawl of

-      swollen waters harrowed her nerves not less than the partial gleams of

-      unmeasured heights and depths revealed by the lightning. A sense of

-      helplessness exaggerated these terrors among the unknown possibilities

-      surrounding her.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      It seemed as though they would never stop again. Her limbs trembled, her

-      heart thumped suffocatingly, yet their guide gave no heed, but pressed on

-      as though no shivering woman pantingly dogged his steps. They traveled

-      thus for several miles. She felt herself giving way totally when, on

-      looking up once more, she saw that the hunter had vanished.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Where am I?&rdquo; she cried, and a voice, issuing seemingly out of the

-      mountain-side, bade her come on. Her hands struck a wall of rock; on her

-      right a precipice yawned; so, groping toward the left, she felt as she

-      advanced that she was leaving the outer air; the wind and rain no longer

-      beat upon her, yet the darkness was intense.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      She heard the voice of the boy calling upon her to keep near. Into the

-      bowels of the mountains she felt her way until a gleam of light shone

-      ahead. She hastened forward round a shoulder of rock into a roomy aperture

-      branching from the main cavern. The boy lay upon a pallet of skins, while

-      Herne the Hunter fixed the flaring pine-knot he had lighted into a crevice

-      of the rock. Then he started a fire, drew out of another crevice some cold

-      cooked meat and filled a gourd with water from a spring that trickled out

-      at one end of the cave.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Eat,&rdquo; he said, waving his hand. &ldquo;Eat&mdash;that ye may not die. The more

-      unfit to live, the less prepared for death. Eat!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      With that he turned away and busied himself in bathing and bandaging the

-      boy's foot, which, though not severely sprained, was for the time quite

-      painful. Mrs. Renfro now threw back the hood of her waterproof and laid

-      the cloak aside. Even old Herne&mdash;women hater that he was&mdash;could

-      not have found fault with the matronly beauty of her face, unless with its

-      expression of self-satisfied worldliness, as of one who judged others and

-      herself solely by conventional standards, shaped largely by flattery and

-      conceit.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      She was hungry&mdash;her fears were somewhat allayed, and though rather

-      disgusted at such coarse diet, ate and drank with some relish. Meanwhile,

-      Herne the Hunter turned from the boy for something, and beheld her face

-      for the first time. A water-gourd fell from his hands, his eyes dilated,

-      and he crouched as he gazed like a panther before its unsuspecting prey.

-      Every fibre of his frame quivered, and drops of cold sweat stood out upon

-      his forehead. The boy saw with renewed fear this new phase of old Herne's

-      dreaded idiosyncrasies. Mrs. Renfro at length raised her eyes and beheld

-      him thus. Instantly he placed his hands before his face, and abruptly left

-      the cavern. Alarmed at his appearance, she ran toward the boy, exclaiming:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What <i>can</i> be the matter with him? Do you know him?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I knows more of him 'n I wants ter,&rdquo; replied the lad. &ldquo;Oh, marm, that's

-      old Herne, 'nd we uns air the fust ones ez hev be'n in hyar whar he stays.

-      I ganny! I thort shore he'd hev yeaten ye up.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Well, but who is he?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Well, they do say ez the devil yowns him, not but what he air powerful

-      'ligyus. No one knows much 'bouten him, 'cep'n' he's all'ays a projeckin'

-      eround the Dismal whar no one yelse wants ter be.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Has he been here long?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yurs 'nd yurs, they say.&rdquo; Tommy shook his head as though unable to

-      measure the years during which Herne the Hunter had been acquiring his

-      present unsavory reputation, but solved the riddle by exclaiming: &ldquo;I

-      reckon he hev all'ays be'n that-a-way.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      An hour or more passed. Tommy fell asleep, while the lady sat musing by

-      his side. She did not feel like sleeping, though much fatigued. Finally

-      she heard a deep sigh behind her, and turning saw the object of her fears

-      regarding her sombrely. The sight of her face appeared to shock him, for

-      he turned half away as he said:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You have eaten the food that is the curse of life, in that it sustains

-      it. Yet such we are. Sleep, therefore, for you have weary miles to go, ere

-      you can reach the Swananoa.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      There was an indescribable sadness in his tone that touched her, and she

-      regarded him curiously.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Who are you,&rdquo; she asked, &ldquo;and why do you choose to live in such a place

-      as this?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Ask naught of me,&rdquo; he said, with an energy he seemed unable to repress.

-      &ldquo;Ask rather of yourself who am I and how came I&mdash;thus.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      He struck himself upon the breast, and without awaiting an answer again

-      abruptly left the cave. She sat there wondering, trying to-weave into

-      definite shape certain vague impressions suggested by his presence, until

-      weariness overcame her and she slept.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Hours after, Herne the Hunter reentered the cave, bearing a torch. His

-      garments were wet, the rain-drops clung to his hair, and his face was more

-      haggard than ever. He advanced towards the slumbering woman softly, and

-      stood over her, gazing mournfully upon her, while large tears rolled down

-      his cheeks. Then his expression changed to one that was stern and

-      vindictive. His hand nervously toyed with the knife in his belt. Milder

-      thoughts again seemed to sway him, and his features worked twitchingly.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I cannot, I cannot,&rdquo; he whispered to himself. &ldquo;The tears I thought

-      forever banished from these eyes return at this sight. There has never

-      been another who could so move me. Though thou hast been my curse, and art

-      yet my hell&mdash;I cannot do it. Come! protector of my soul; stand thou

-      between me and all murderous thoughts!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      He drew his Bible from his bosom, kissed it convulsively, then held it as

-      though to guard her from himself, and drawing backward slowly, he again

-      fled into the storm and darkness without.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The gray light of morning rose over the Dismal, though within the cave the

-      gloom still reigned supreme, when Herne the Hunter again stood at the

-      entrance holding a flaring light. Then he said aloud: &ldquo;Wake, you that

-      sleep under the shadow of death! Wake, eat, and&mdash;pass on!&rdquo; Mrs.

-      Renfro aroused herself. The boy, however, slept on. Herne fixed his torch

-      in the wall, and replenished the fire. Then he withdrew, apparently to

-      give the lady privacy in making her toilet.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      She was stiff in limb and depressed in mind. After washing at the spring,

-      she wandered listlessly about the cave, surveying old Herne's scanty store

-      of comforts. Suddenly she paused before a faded picture, framed in long,

-      withered moss, that clung to an abutment of the rock. It was that of a

-      girl, fair, slender and ethereal. There was a wealth of hair, large eyes,

-      and features so faultless that the witching sense of self-satisfaction

-      permeating them, added to rather than marred their loveliness.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The lady&mdash;glancing indifferently&mdash;suddenly felt a thrill and a

-      pain. A deadly sense of recognition nearly overcame her, as this memento&mdash;confronting

-      her like a resurrected chapter of the past&mdash;made clear the hitherto

-      inexplicable behavior of their host. She recovered, and looked upon it

-      tenderly, then shook her head gently and sighed.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You cannot recognize it!&rdquo; said a deep voice behind her. &ldquo;You dare not!

-      For the sake of your conscience&mdash;your hope in heaven&mdash;your fear

-      of hell&mdash;you dare not recognize and look upon me!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      She did not look round, though she knew that Herne the Hunter stood

-      frowning behind, but trembled in silence as he went on with increasing

-      energy:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What does that face remind you of? See you aught beneath that beauty but

-      treachery without pity, duplicity without shame? Lo! the pity and the

-      shame you should have felt have recoiled upon me&mdash;me, who alone have

-      suffered.&rdquo; He broke off abruptly, as though choked by emotion. She dared

-      not face him; she felt incapable of a reply. After a pause, he resumed,

-      passionately: &ldquo;Oh! Alice, Alice! The dead rest, yet the living dead can

-      only endure. Amid these crags, and throughout the solitude of years, I

-      have fought and refought the same old battle; but with each victory it

-      returns upon me, strengthened by defeat, while with me all grows weaker

-      but the remorselessness of memory and the capacity for pain.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      She still stood, with bowed head, shivering as though his words were

-      blows.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Have you nothing to say?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;Does that picture of your own youth

-      recall no vanished tenderness for one who&mdash;self-outcast of men&mdash;fell

-      to that pass through you?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I have a husband,&rdquo; she murmured, almost in a whisper.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Aye, and because of that husband I have no wife&mdash;no wife&mdash;no

-      wife!&rdquo; His wailing repetition seemed absolutely heartbroken; but sternly

-      he continued: &ldquo;You have told me where he is. I say to you&mdash;hide him&mdash;hide

-      him from me! Even this&rdquo;&mdash;he struck his bosom with his Bible

-      feverishly&mdash;&ldquo;may not save him. I have prayed and wrought, but it is

-      as nothing&mdash;nothing&mdash;when I think&mdash;when I remember.

-      Therefore, hide him from me&mdash;lest I slay him&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You would not&mdash;you dare not harm him!&rdquo; She faced him now, a splendid

-      picture of an aroused wife and mother. &ldquo;He is not to blame&mdash;he knew

-      you not&mdash;he has been good to me&mdash;and&mdash;and&mdash;I love

-      him.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      He shrank from the last words as though from a blow, and stood cowering.

-      Then he hissed out:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Let me not find him. Hide him&mdash;hide him!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Tommy here awoke with a yawn, and announced that his foot was about well.

-      Herne, closing his lips, busied himself about preparing breakfast, which

-      cheerless meal was eaten in silence. When they finally emerged from the

-      cave the sun was peeping into the Dismal below them; bright gleams chased

-      the dark shadows down the cliffs, and the morning mists were melting. The

-      storm was over; there was a twitter of birds, the tinkle of an overflowing

-      burn, and a squirrel's bark emphasizing the freshness of the morn. The

-      pure air entered the lips like wine, and Mrs. Renfro felt her depression

-      roll off as they retraced the devious trail of the night before.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      They found the lady's horse standing dejectedly near where he had been

-      left. The fog, in vast rolls, was climbing out of the Dismal, disclosing

-      dark masses of forest below. The flavor of pine and balsam slept beneath

-      the trees, every grass blade was diamond-strewn, and every sound vivified

-      by the sense of mighty walls and unsounded depths.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      After Mrs. Renfro had mounted, Herne the Hunter swept an arm around. The

-      scene was savage and sombre, despite the sunlight. The intensity of the

-      solitude about them dragged upon the mind like a weight.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Behold,&rdquo; he said sadly, &ldquo;this is my world. I can tolerate no other.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      She inwardly shuddered; then a wave of old associations swept over her

-      mind. Beneath the austerity of the man, beyond his selfish nurture of

-      affliction, she&mdash;for the moment&mdash;remembered him as he once was,

-      homely, kindly, enthusiastic and true. Had <i>she</i> indeed changed him

-      to this? Or was it not rather the imperativeness of a passion, unable to

-      endure or forget her preference of another? Whatever the cause, her heart

-      now ached for him, though she feared him.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Come with us,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You were not made to live thus.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I cannot&mdash;I dare not. It will take months to undo the misery of this

-      meeting.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;My husband&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Do not name him!&rdquo; he cried fiercely; then abruptly lowering his tone, he

-      said, with infinite sadness: &ldquo;Ask me no more. Yonder, by that white cliff,

-      lies the Swan-anoa trail you missed yesterday. The kindest thing you can

-      do is to forget that you have seen me. Farewell!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      He turned away and swung himself down the mountain-side into the Dismal.

-      She saw the rolling mists close over him, and remained motionless in a

-      reverie so deep that the boy spoke twice to her before she turned her

-      horse's head and followed him.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Above the surveyor's camp lay the Swananoa Gap, a gloomy, precipitous

-      gorge through which the river lashed itself into milder reaches below.

-      Mrs. Renfro found her husband absent. With a single assistant he had

-      started for the upper defiles, intending to be gone several days. They

-      told her that he would endeavor to secure the services of Herne the Hunter

-      as a guide, as one knowing more of that wilderness than any one else.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Here was fresh food for wifely alarm. Herne had never met her husband, yet

-      the latter's name would make known his relationship to herself. She

-      shuddered over the possibilities that might result from their sojourn

-      together&mdash;far from aid&mdash;in those wild mountains, and made

-      herself wretched for a week in consequence.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Meanwhile the transient fine weather passed; the rains once more

-      descended, and the peaks of Nantahalah were invisible for days amid a

-      whirl of vapor. The boom of the river, the grinding of forest limbs, the

-      shriek of the wind, made life unusually dreary at the camp. She lay awake

-      one night when the elements were apparently doing their worst. Her husband

-      was still absent&mdash;perhaps alone with a possible maniac, raving over

-      the memory of fancied wrongs.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Finally another sound mingled with and at last overmastered all others&mdash;something

-      between a crash and a roar, interblended with sullen jars and grindings.

-      Near and nearer it came. She sprang to the tent-floor and found her feet

-      in the water. The darkness was intense. What could be the matter? Fear

-      overcame her resolution and she shrieked aloud.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      A man bearing a lantern burst into the tent with a hoarse cry. Its gleams

-      showed her Herne the Hunter, drenched, draggled, a ghastly cut across his

-      face, with the blood streaming down, his long hair flying, and in his eyes

-      a fierce flame.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I feared I would not find you,&rdquo; he shouted, for the roar without was now

-      appalling. &ldquo;It is a cloud-burst above. In five minutes this hollow will be

-      fathoms deep. The tents lower down are already gone. Come!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      He had seized and was bearing her out.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Save&mdash;alarm the others!&rdquo; she cried.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You first&mdash;Alice.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      In that dread moment she detected the hopelessness with which he called

-      her thus, as though such recognition was wrung from his lips by the pain

-      he hugged, even while it rended him.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;My husband?&rdquo; she gasped, growing faint over the thought of his possible

-      peril&mdash;or death.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Safe,&rdquo; he hissed through his clenched teeth, for his exertions were

-      tremendous. With a fierce flap the tent was swept away as they left it.

-      About his knees the waters swirled, while limbs and other floating débris

-      swept furiously by.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      What seemed to her minutes&mdash;though really seconds&mdash;passed amid a

-      terrific jumble of sounds, while the rain fell in sheets. It seemed as

-      though the invisible mountains were dissolving. They were, however, slowly

-      rising above the floods. She heard Herne's hard breathing, and felt his

-      wild heart-throbs as he held her close. Something heavy struck them, or

-      rather him, for he shielded her. One of his arms fell limp, and he groaned

-      heavily. Then she swooned away, with a fleeting sensation of being grasped

-      by some one else.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Later, when she revived, there was a great hush in the air. Below, the

-      river gently brawled-; there was a misty darkness around, and the gleam of

-      a lantern held before a dear and familiar form.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Husband&mdash;is it you?&rdquo; she murmured.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yes, yes,&rdquo; said Captain Renfro, &ldquo;I thought I had lost you. You owe your

-      life to Herne the Hunter. In fact, but for him I would have been

-      overwhelmed myself.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Where is he?&rdquo; she asked feebly.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;The men are searching for him. Just as one of them got hold of you, he

-      fell back&mdash;something must have struck him, and the flood swept him

-      off. I tell you, Alice, that man&mdash;crazy or not&mdash;is a hero. We

-      were on our way down and had camped above the Gap, when the cloud-burst

-      came. We knew you all would be overwhelmed before we could get round here

-      by the trail; so what does Herne do but send us on horseback by land,

-      while he scoots down that Canyon in a canoe&mdash;little better than an

-      eggshell. Risked his life in that awful place to get here in time. I

-      insisted on going with him at first.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Just like you, George,&rdquo; said the wife fondly, though in her mind's eye

-      came a vision of Herne the Hunter battling with that Niagara to save and

-      unite the two, through whom his own life had been made a burden. She

-      sighed and clasped her husband's hand, while he resumed:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I was a fool, I expect, for the canoe would have swamped under both of

-      us. He knew this, and ordered me off with a look I did not like; there was

-      madness in it. Well, we hurried round by the trail with, one lantern;

-      Herne took the other. When we got here, you were apparently dead, Herne

-      and two of the men swept off&mdash;the camp gone from below, and so on.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      A cry was now heard. Several men hastened down, and soon lights were seen

-      returning. Four of them bore Herne the Hunter. One arm and a leg were

-      broken, and his skull crushed in; yet the wonderful vitality of the man

-      had kept him alive and sensible.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;We found him clinging to a sapling,&rdquo; said one. &ldquo;But he's about gone&mdash;poor

-      fellow!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Poor fellow, indeed! Mrs. Renfro felt the lumps rise in her throat as she

-      gazed upon that wreck, and thought. Presently Herne opened his eyes&mdash;already

-      filling with the death-mist&mdash;and his gaze fell upon her face.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Alice,&rdquo; he whispered, &ldquo;my troubles&mdash;are over. This&rdquo;&mdash;he tugged

-      at something in his bosom with his uninjured arm, when some one drew forth

-      his Bible, drenched and torn&mdash;&ldquo;this saved me. I could have killed him&mdash;&rdquo;

-       he glanced at Renfro, who amid his pity now wondered. &ldquo;I could&mdash;but&mdash;I

-      saved you. And&mdash;now&mdash;Jesus&mdash;have mercy&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      These were his last words, for in another minute Herne the Hunter was a

-      thing of the past, and a weeping woman bent over him. After that there was

-      silence for a while. Then the wife said to her husband, while the others

-      removed the dead man:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;It was his misfortune, not my fault, that he loved me. Has he not made

-      amends?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      And the husband, with his hands clasped in hers, could find no other heart

-      than to say:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Aye&mdash;most nobly!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div style="height: 4em;">

-      <br /><br /><br /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h2>

-      UNCLE DUKE'S &ldquo;B'AR&rdquo; STORY, By Lillian Gilfillan

-    </h2>

-    <p class="pfirst">

-      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> 'LOWED ez mebbe

-      you uns ud like ter hear thet thar b'ar story. I reckon it's ten year this

-      December since it all happened. I war a-livin' up in thet house on th'

-      edge uv th' corn fiel' 'long side th' branch, an' ef it 't'warn't fer thet

-      b'ar I'd be a-livin' thar yet, 'stead uv a-settin' in th' warm corner uv

-      Jim Ladd's fireplace.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I 'low ez yer knowed Jim didn't hev no great sight uv worldly efects when

-      he married Becky Crabtree; I don't reckon his daddy war able ter do much

-      fer him, 'ceptin' 'lowin' him the use uv thet yoke uv ole steers uv his'n.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Thet war afore they moved th' mill out'n th' holler yander, so it war

-      right handy fer Jim ter haul his logs ter, an' he jes' worked hisse'f

-      plumb nigh ter death a-gettin' up thet leetle log house uv his'n, an'

-      a-plantin' fruit trees an' sech, an' all summer Becky worked jes' ez hard

-      a-berry pickin', tendin' her truck patch an' a-peddlin' up ter th'

-      station.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      An' in th' winter time when Jim war a-makin' dish shelves an' a-puttin'

-      some new splits inter th' bottoms uv them ole chiers his daddy give him,

-      Becky war a-peecin' quilts an' a-spinnin' cloth fer dresses. Waal, in th'

-      spring they war married an' went ter live in ther house on th' side uv th'

-      mounting, out'n no neighbors, 'ceptin' me, fer a mile or more down th'

-      cove.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Thet war th' spring I war tuck so bad with this misery in my back an'

-      afore summer I war so cript up I warn't no 'count whatever.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      One mornin' jes' ez I war a gettin' up from afore the fire whar I hed been

-      a-eatin' a snack uv breakfast, Becky walked in, lookin' ez fresh ez a

-      fiel' uv early corn, and sez:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Uncle Duke, I 'lowed I'd come in an' see how you war an' rid up a leetle

-      fur yer.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      I h'ant never been used ter wimen folks, an' I could'nt git th' consent uv

-      my mind ter set by an' see every thin' pot out'n its nat'ral place, so I

-      reched my stick an' out'n sayin' nothin' I riz up an' went out under th'

-      big gum tree.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      It warn't long afore Becky kem out with her bucket on her arm, an' sez:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Good-bye, Uncle Duke. I reckon I'll be a-gittin' along ter th' berry

-      patch yan-der.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      I sed, &ldquo;Thank yer, Becky. Don't yer come no more ter tend ter me. I 'low

-      you's got a plenty ter do 'out'n a-doin' thet.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Yer see, I didn't want ter be pestered with her fixin', yit she was so

-      obleegin' ter everybody I didn't want ter 'fend her by axin' her ter stay

-      ter hum. Waal, when I went in an' seed how piert things looked, I jes'

-      wished I'd a-kep' my pipe in my mouth 'stead uv a-jawin' her. Spite uv my

-      sayin' time an' ag'in fer her ter rest when her own work war done, she

-      kep' a-comin'. I 'lowed she seed how much I enjoyed havin' things liken

-      white folks lived in the house.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I 'low she war jes' ez bright an' happy thet year ez enny woman in the

-      cove ez hed a plenty.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      An' summer an' winter she 'peared ter be always a-workin'.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Waal in th' middle uv March leetle Jim kem, and I reckon thar warn't no

-      two happier people in th' world. They war proud uv thet baby, an' no

-      mistake.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The fust time I seed Becky arter it war born, she pulled a leetle hand

-      out'n from under th' kiver an' sez:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Uncle Duke, some day thet leetle han'll chop wood fur his mammy.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Waal, it did'nt look much like handlin' an axe thin.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Thet summer she use ter roll th' baby up in her daddie's ole army blanket

-      an' take it with her berry pickin' an' peddlin' an' everywhars; it 'peared

-      like she didn't think its weight nothin', un' she'd go 'long th' road

-      talkin' ter it like ez ef a baby four months ole knowed ennythin'. With

-      th' money from her berries she bought th' winter clothes&mdash;mostely

-      things fur th' baby an' flannel shirts fur her man&mdash;'peared like she

-      thought th' cold wouldn't tech her.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      It war th' last uv th' next June thet th' twins war born. This time Becky

-      didn't seem ter git 'long so piert&mdash;jes' lay still an' pale like, an'

-      a lookin' at the baby gals sad an' pityin'. I reckon she war a wonderin'

-      whar th' warm winter clothes they'd need by' an' by' war ter be got from.

-      It warn't in reason ter 'spose a woman could tote two babies an' do much

-      at pickin' berries.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Jim worked ez hard ez enny man could, but his ole mare died jist at fodder

-      pickin' time, an' he couldn't do much out'n a critter, so a right smart uv

-      his crap war lost. Becky didn't seem ter get strong ez she did afore, an'

-      her sister up an' left her sooner 'en she oughter. She seemed tar be

-      kinder mad all th' time ter think Becky had gone an' hed twins, an' she

-      didn't keep her 'pinions hid. I reckon Becky warn't sorry when she went

-      back ter her man.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Ez I war a-sayin', it war ten year ago this December, an' a right smart uv

-      snow on th' ground, when Becky came by my house one mornin' ter ax me ef

-      I'd go down an' watch th' fire an' leetle Jim fer a spell. I seed she war

-      lookin' anxious like, an' I axed her what war th' matter. &ldquo;Jim went

-      a-rabbit huntin' yesterday evenin',&rdquo; she sed, &ldquo;an' he ain't kem hum yit; I

-      reckon somethin' hes happened ter him, an' I 'lowed I'd go an' see. The

-      babies ez both asleep an' I speck ter be home afore long.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      She went on up th' mounting path a-makin' fur the top, a-holpin' herse'f

-      over the sleek places with that hickory stick uv her'n.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I went on down ter th' house an' found leetle Jim a-noddin' afore th'

-      fire. It war about'n th' time he always tuck his nap. Pretty soon he war

-      ez sound asleep ez ef he war on th' biggest feather bed in th' cove,

-      'stead uv jes' his mammy's cook apron under his little yaller head.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I pot on a fresh log an' was mighty nigh asleep myse'f when one o' th'

-      babies waked up an' cried a leetle.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Somehow I got th' cradle in an awk'ard place acrost a plank ez war all

-      warped up an' th' churnin' back an' fore waked up th' t'other 'un. She

-      jes' lay thar a-look-in' fust at me an' then at her leetle sister, kinder

-      onsartin whether ter cry or not.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      By an' by I thought I'd holp her back ter sleep, so I tuck her leetle han'

-      an' tried ter pot her thumb in ter her mouth, but thar warn't nobody

-      knowed enny better thin thet thar baby thet she didn't want no thumb

-      feedin'. I got up an' went fur some milk, fust a-lookin' out'n th' door

-      ter see ef Becky war a-comin'.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Seein' ez thar warn't no sign uv her no-whar, I 'lowed I try ter feed th'

-      young uns, beein's th' both uv them war a-doin' ther best at cryin'.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      They didn't seem ter take much ter my feedin'; I reckon thet war 'cause I

-      didn't set th' milk afore th' fire fust, an' somehow it 'peared like' th'

-      milk most in general went down th' outside uv ther necks; an' Annie (that

-      war th' little un) kept a chokin' tell I had ter take her up. Jes' ez soon

-      ez thet leetle critter got whar she could look 'round an' sense things,

-      she 'peared quite satisfied.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I managed ter git t'other un (Fannie) out'n the cradle. They jumped an'

-      twisted tell I thought I'd die uv the misery in my back, but whin I pot

-      them down they yelled like hallelujer!

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      'Peard like they'd kept me a-dancin' a powerful long time, whin I heerd

-      voices an' I 'lowed Becky war come, but it turned out ter be Mitch

-      Pendergrass an' Sonk Levan, with some rabbits an' ther guns. They hed

-      stopped by ter git warm.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Whin they seed me a-settin' thar nussin' two babies ter onct they bust out

-      larfin'. Fannie hed holt uv my left year an' the leetle hair I hed on my

-      head. Annie war a-sittin' on my knee a gazin' at Sonk an' Mitch,

-      a-wonderin' why they war a-larfin'.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I 'low, Uncle Duke,&rdquo; sez Sonk, &ldquo;ez yer've tuck ter lamin' nussin' late in

-      life. It shows yer pluck ter commence on two ter onct. Whar's Becky?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;She air gone ter look fer Jim,&rdquo; sez I. &ldquo;He went out a-huntin' last night

-      an' he ain't never come hum this mornin'. She war oneasy 'bout him an'

-      went out ter look fur him. 'Lowed ez she'd be hum afore this.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Mitch went ter the door an' looked out an' thin cornin' back ter th' fire,

-      sez he:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;It's arter twelve o'clock, nigh ez I kin calkerlate. Thar seems ter be a

-      big black cloud a-hangin' over th' Top.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Becky ought'en ter be out in no sich. I reckon we'd better be a-movin'.

-      Mebbe Jim's happened ter an acci<i>tent</i> an' she's a-tryin' ter holp

-      him by herse'f.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;She's plucky, <i>she</i> is.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Waal,&rdquo; sez Sonk, &ldquo;Mitch, you give Uncle Duke a lesson in baby feedin'

-      (the father uv ten ought'n ter know somethin' bout'n thet business); I'll

-      tote in enough wood ter burn a spell, an' thin we'll light out'n hyar an'

-      hunt up Becky an' Jim.&rdquo; Arter Mitch's learnin' me ter hold th' spoon un'

-      ter warm th' milk an' ter pot in sweetenin' me an' th' babies got on fine.

-      Soon I hed them both sleepin', kivered up ter th' years, an' th' cradle

-      sot in a warm place. Then I began ter feel powerful hungry, an' leetle

-      Jim, though he ain't sed nothin', hed been a-watchin' thet thar spoon an'

-      milk cup while I fed th' babies, an' a openin' his mouth long side uf

-      them.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I skun one uv Sonk's rabbits, an' it warn't no time tel th' corn bread war

-      a-cookin' in th' bake pan an' th' rabbit a-jumpin' up in th' grease.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Arter dinner Jim set on my knee jes' ez quiet, never axin' fer his mammy

-      onct, an' thim babies slept on jes' like they knowed they war twins an'

-      ther mammy gone. Pretty soon it began ter get dark an' th' snow war

-      a-fallin' ag'in a leetle. Jim went ter sleep an' I pot him ter bed. The

-      time 'peared ter go powerful slow arter that, an' I began ter nod.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      It must have been eight o'clock whin voices in th' yard waked me. I opened

-      th' door an' Mitch called out:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Stir up the fire an' give us a leetle more light. Thar ain't no bones

-      broke, but Jim don't feel egsactly piert.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      They brung him in an' his face war jes' ez pale an' he looked powerful

-      weak.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Most of his coat war tore of'en him an' th' blood war a-droppin' from a

-      place in his arm. Becky looked plumb wore out, but th' fust thin' she did

-      soon ez Jim war on th' bed war ter lean over th' cradle an' sez:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Uncle Duke, war my babies good?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Jes' ez good ez two leetle angels,&rdquo; I sed, spitin' th' fact th' side uv

-      my head war pretty sore from ther pullin' an' scratchin'.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      She helped ter git Jim's arm wrapped up an' him warm in bed, an' thin

-      began ter get supper, like nothin' hed happened out'n th' common. Whin I

-      seed how pale she looked, I sed:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Jus' yer git out th' plates an' I'll tend the fire. I 'low arter cookin'

-      fer nigh thirty year, I kin git a snack yer can eat.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      It twarn't long until another rabbit war in th' pan an' th' coffee

-      a-boilin'. Jim looked up whin he smelt the cookin' an' sez:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I reckon we'll hev a little bigger meat fer to-morrow.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      I war jes' ez curious ez enny ole woman, but everybody was so tired an'

-      hungry I didn't ax anny questions.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Becky war a-sittin' in a low chier afore th' fire with leetle Jim on her

-      lap a-warm-in' his leetle feet in her han'. I could see th' tears war

-      a-chasin' each other down her face.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Mon! but they did eat. Jim, too, and I had' ter git th' cold meat left

-      from dinner ter hev enough.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      When they hed got up from th' table Sonk sed:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Mitch, your wife'll need you with all thim chil'n; I 'low you'd better be

-      a-goin'. I reckon I'll stop hyer; step by an' tell Sallie ter hev

-      breakfast early, an' tell leetle Lular pappy'll be home in th' mornin'.

-      You hev th' mules ready early; I am afeard uv th' varmints a-gittin'

-      Becky's game.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Arter Mitch war gone an' things picked up they told me ther story.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      'Pears like thar warn't no trouble in a trackin' Becky up ter th' top, an'

-      they found her a-tryin' ter work Jim out'n a hole in th' bluff.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Th' night afore, jes' ez Jim war a-makin' fur hum with his game, he hed

-      run agin' a big b'ar. He up an' fired, but missed, it bein' most dark. The

-      b'ar war on him afore he could load agin, an' makin' a pass at him with

-      its big paw, knocked th' musket out'n his han's an' bruck it plumb in two.

-      Jim hed jes' time ter make up a saplin' an' Mr. B'ar set down under him

-      ter bide his time.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      He sot thar a long spell, an' it war most midnight, nigh ez Jim could

-      tell, whin the b'ar made off an' lay down, seein' Jim warn't willin' ter

-      come down an' be et. Waal, Jim decided thin he would come down an' run fur

-      it, 'lowin' a hot chase war better'n freezin' up thar. So down he dumb an'

-      lit out, Mr. B'ar arter him. Jes' ez they struck the bluff path the b'ar

-      got so near thet it riz up an' grabbed him. Jim bein' quick got away,

-      leavin' Mr. B'ar most uv his coat ter 'member him by, but in backin' away

-      he wint too far an' fell inter a crack in th' bluff.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      It warn't very nice failin', but the crack warn't over four feet deep an'

-      full uv leaves at the bottom, so bein' out'n the wind they made a more

-      comfortable place ter spend th' night in then th' saplin'.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Pretty soon Jim hed occasion ter know he war hurt some.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The bar had tore his left arm right smart an' in fallin' his face hed got

-      skun up dreadful. Th' b'ar walked up an' down, a-smellin' down thet crack

-      sorter much like, but by-an'-by he went off a leetle an' lay down, I spect

-      arguin' with hisse'f thet Jim would come out'n th' hole liken he did out'n

-      th' saplin.'

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Jim wrapped up his arm the best he could with a piece uv his shirt sleeve.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      It war daylight when he waked an' th' fust thin' he seed war th' head uv

-      thet thar b'ar a-lookin' down at him.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      He knowed it war'n't no use ter holler, so he jes' lay thar thinkin' 'bout

-      Becky an' th' babies an' leetle Jim&mdash;wonderin' ef she'd think he'd

-      quit her.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The thought uv Becky's thinkin' enny bad uv him made him groan with a new

-      kind uv pain, an' whin he moved a leetle he fainted away. I reckon thet

-      war jes' 'bout'n th' time Becky got thar, fer she said she heerd a groan

-      down in thet hole an' thin all war still. She war jes' a-goin' ter call

-      whin she spied thet b'ar a-lookin' down inter th' crack.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      'Bout ten foot to th' left uv whar Jim war fust the mounting breaks away,

-      leavin' a pres'pus uv forty foot or more, but thar's a leetle ledge at th'

-      top whar you kin look inter thet crack in th' bluff.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      It war fur thet leetle ledge the b'ar made jes' ez Becky halted. When it

-      clumb down she made sure it would git ter Jim (she war sure he war in thet

-      crack), so she follered quiet ez she could, an th' snow bein' soft kept

-      th' b'ar from hearing her&mdash;until she war right behind it&mdash;whar

-      it war leanin' down over th' edge a-tryin' ter git inter th' crack. 'Fore

-      it could turn on her she gave it a powerful push with her hickory stick,

-      an' being so fur over an' so heavy the b'ar lost hisse'f, an' down he went

-      with a crash into th' underbrush.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Becky'd gone too, only her dress war caught in some bushes an' thet saved

-      her.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      She couldn't do nothin' but lay on th' ground an' rest a spell, thin she

-      crawled ter th' edge an' looked down ter make sure th' b'ar war dead.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Hearin' Jim groan agin she got up an' went ter him.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      He war clean gone in a faint agin before she could get down ter him. When

-      she got him to again she gave him th' flask uv milk she hed brought.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      She worked with him ter keep him warm, but she couldn't do much, th' place

-      war so norrow. It seemed an age before he got so he knowed anythin', an'

-      she had made up her mind ter leave him an' go fur help whin Sonk and Mitch

-      got thar. An' 'twixt 'm they soon got Jim out an' laid him on the ole army

-      blanket I hed sent, an' they axed Becky how come he thar. She told them

-      what she knowed, but they wouldn't believe about th' b'ar until she showed

-      them whar it lay. Whin Mitch looked over an' seed fur hisse'f he jis' sed

-      'By Gosh!' an' runnin' back to whar he could scramble down made down th'

-      side like a coon. Sonk war about ter follow, when he stopped an' turned

-      ter Becky, tellin' her ter see ter Jim till they could come up agin. He

-      give her a bottle uv applejack out'n his pocket, which he said he carried

-      fur snake bite. Becky never said nothin' 'bout'n snakes most in general

-      stayin' in th' ground in winter time, but gave a little of the liquor ter

-      Jim an' tuck a leetle dram herse'f.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I reckon ef it hadn't been fer Sonk's snake medicine, they both a-been

-      down sick from th' cold an' wet.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Ez soon ez th' men could git a good kiverin' uv snow over th' b'ar ter

-      keep wild cats from pesterin' it, they kem up an' took up th' ends uv

-      Jim's blanket ter fotch him hum. It war slow work, th' path bein' steep

-      an' norrow, an' Jim heavy, so it war eight o'clock afore they got down.

-      Waal, th' next day they got th' bar down, an' mon! he war a big 'un.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      They skun him an' put th' meat up fur sale at th' store. A young fellar

-      from th' North ez war a-stayin' at th' station give Becky $12 fur th'

-      hide, ter take home ter his gal, I reckon.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The meat sold well, an' altergether I reckon Becky never seed so much

-      money at one time afore in her life. She wanted ter divide with Sonk an'

-      Mitch, but they wouldn't hear to it, an' she couldn't make them took nary

-      cent. Afore th' week war out she went ter th' station an' bought shoes an'

-      warm clothes fur all an' enough ter last two winters, an' soon Becky's

-      fingers war busy. She made some red flannel shirts fur me, 'cause she sed

-      they be good fer th' misery in my back.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      An' whin I sed my fire hed been out a week an' I'd eat enough uv other

-      folks' corn bread an' coffee, Becky up and sed:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I 'low ez yer'd better stay, Uncle Duke; I've got a sight uv sewin' ter

-      do an' yer got ter be so handy with th' babies I can't hardly spare yer.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Arter thet we jined corn fiel's an' next year war a powerful good one fer

-      craps an' fruit.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I tended th' chil'n while Becky went fur berries and did her peddlin'.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      We ain't a-gettin' rich, but we has a plenty, an' I don't reckon we air

-      got anythin' in a worldly line to ax th' Lord fur he ain't already done

-      give us.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0036" id="linkimage-0036"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:15%;">

-      <img src="images/5184.jpg" alt="5184 " width="100%" /><br /><a

-      href="images/5184.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </div>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div style="height: 4em;">

-      <br /><br /><br /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h2>

-      A CIGARETTE FROM CARCINTO, By Edward French

-    </h2>

-    <h3>

-      <i>A Bit of Mexican Adventure</i>.

-    </h3>

-    <p class="pfirst">

-      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>E were sitting in

-      the hotel in San Antonio, and the conversation had taken that satisfactory

-      turn and confidential coloring which it will take amongst congenial

-      companions round an open wood fire.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0037" id="linkimage-0037"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="figleft" style="width:20%;">

-      <img src="images/9185.jpg" alt="9185 " width="100%" /><br /><a

-      href="images/9185.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </div>

-    <p>

-      We had been expressing our individual opinions about men and things,

-      especially men, and had derived a sleepy satisfaction from our general

-      criticisms. There were men among us who had seen a good deal of frontier

-      life, and, as one man said, &ldquo;he had seen so many men die with their boots

-      on, it seemed the natural end.&rdquo; My nearest neighbor in the circle was a

-      young artist from New Orleans, known throughout the city as &ldquo;Jim the

-      Painter,&rdquo; from the art he practiced to get his living. He turned and asked

-      me if I knew Jack Dunton; and when I denied the honor, he said: &ldquo;Well, you

-      ought to; he is a map of the whole Indian country.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      This awakened my interest. I found that Dunton was living in San Antonio,

-      that his life had been really wonderful in experiences and adventures,

-      that he was very intelligent as well as recklessly brave, and finally,

-      that his acquaintance was worth any man's time to cultivate. Later in the

-      evening we walked over to Dunton's office, a long, pleasant room in the

-      second story of a flat-roofed <i>adobe</i> building that covered nearly

-      half an acre. Both its stories were crammed full of the goods he sold&mdash;wagons,

-      harnesses, and all sorts of agricultural tools.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Dunton's own room was a mighty interesting place, principally in its

-      decorations. The walls and doorways were hung with bright-colored and

-      strange-figured Mojave and Navajoe blankets, skins and weapons were

-      scattered around or arranged as trophies, while clumsy and rude implements

-      of Aztec and Mexican fashioning, from Yucatan to Chihuahua, were suspended

-      against the sides, or heaped in the corners. A large open fire, with

-      blazing cedar logs, filled the room with the aromatic odor so pleasant and

-      characteristic of that wood, and lighted it with fitful glares. There were

-      many interesting stories connected with this collection, and every article

-      in the room seemed to remind Dunton of an experience or incident in his

-      varied career. After being introduced and comfortably seated in a chair,

-      he passed us cigars, and while we were lighting these preliminaries to

-      sociability he drew a square of corn husk from one side-pocket of his sack

-      coat and a pinch of tobacco from the other side-pocket, and quietly rolled

-      a cigarette, which gave out a pungent, penetrating odor. It was not

-      disagreeable, but it struck me as being peculiar, even for Texas. Upon

-      remarking that it seemed different from ordinary tobacco, Dunton replied,

-      &ldquo;It is, and I have good reason to like it, for once it saved my life.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      This aroused my curiosity, and with some little urging he told us the

-      story. &ldquo;This tobacco,&rdquo; said Dunton, &ldquo;comes from the town of Carcinto,

-      quite a mining settlement of <i>adobe</i> houses and stockades,

-      surrounding a Mexican convict station in the center of the state of

-      Chihuahua. It is made by the convicts, who treat the ordinary tobacco with

-      the juice of a native plant, which gives it the pungent flavor you notice

-      and, I suspect, a slight narcotic power; be that as it may, now that I am

-      used to it, other tobacco is flat and tasteless. I was down there some

-      years ago, trying to sell the mine-owners some carts, harness, and things

-      in my line, and I became well acquainted with the nature of these

-      convicts, and I tell you, I would rather take my chances in a den of

-      mountain lions than among those fellows when they revolt. At such times

-      they are madly insane, and nothing is too hellish for them.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I had made a good thing of my deal and was anxiously waiting for an

-      escort,&mdash;for I had four thousand Mexican dollars, and a man of my

-      shape takes no chances in toting money around in that country.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;The day that I remember particularly&mdash;and you will see I have reason

-      to&mdash;was the day before I was to go out from the mine with the mule

-      train. That afternoon I went in the levels with Senor Bustino, one of the

-      owners, a gentleman, every inch of him&mdash;and I tell you, no finer

-      gentleman walks the earth than a high-caste Mexican of Castilian blood.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I had sold them a few dozen American pickaxes, and one of the convict

-      gangs was to try them that day for the first time. It was the first lot of

-      pickaxes ever used in that mine, and, as the sequel proved, the last. The

-      men were doing with them twice the business they had formerly done with

-      their clumsy heavy hoes. Two soldiers with <i>escopetas</i> were on guard,

-      and two overseers with pistols and heavy canes were directing the work. To

-      get a better and nearer view, Sefior Bustino and I crowded through until

-      we came to the rotten ledge filled with the silver, upon which they

-      worked. The convicts stopped and gazed upon us curiously, some of them

-      pushing back their long black hair out of their eyes and staring with

-      undisguised wonder at me, for I was a <i>gringo</i>, a <i>heretico</i>,

-      and a strange object to them in those early days, with my paler skin and

-      peculiar dress. Near me was a large black fellow, bare to the waist.. He

-      was short-necked and broad-shouldered, and his cheeks were so high as to

-      partly close his little fierce eyes; his nose was low and flat, while his

-      chin was sharp and prominent, with a deep scowl; in fact, a bundle of

-      animal appetites and passions done up in a hideous form. As we passed he

-      drew from the folds of his drawers&mdash;the only clothing he wore&mdash;a

-      pinch of tobacco and a com husk, and making a cigarette he stepped to one

-      of the grease-wood torches and lighted it, blowing out a great cloud of

-      pungent, aromatic smoke from his broad nostrils, that filled the space

-      around us with the odor you noticed from my cigarette.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;That was my first experience with that tobacco, and, indeed, my first

-      smell of its peculiar odor, and I have never forgotten it. I dined that

-      evening with the old senor and was introduced to his family; his wife, a

-      Mexican lady prematurely aged&mdash;as they all are, two daughters,

-      handsome as angels, and was shown the picture of their son, a young man

-      who was then being educated in Paris. They were delightful people,

-      especially to one who had been trucking for weeks across the dusty plains

-      of Chihuahua, with only <i>peons</i> and mules for company, and we had a

-      fiery Mexican dinner, spiced with the jokes of the village priest, who was

-      an honored guest. At ten, with the hearty wishes of the whole family, and

-      after the elaborate Mexican custom of withdrawal, I left them. As I

-      sauntered out in the moonlight I could not shut out of my mind the brutish

-      face of the convict in the mine. Perhaps the round faces and handsome eyes

-      of the senor's pretty daughters may have emphasized the memory of the

-      convict's ugly head; otherwise I was in a happy mood.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I turned the corner of the street and entered a short dark lane that led

-      toward the prison stockade. There was an occasional <i>adobe</i> house,

-      but the street was mostly lined with the miserable mud <i>jacals</i> of

-      the poorer Mexicans. I had hardly gotten well into it when I sniffed the

-      same pungent odor that the convict's cigarette had given out. It startled

-      me a trifle, conjuring up, as it did, the hideous mental picture of the

-      man. I had but just realized this association when I heard the clanging of

-      the cathedral bells in that hurried, nervous manner which has alarm in its

-      every note&mdash;for the tone of a bell always partakes of the state that

-      its ringer is in. I heard the sound of approaching voices, loud and

-      fierce, mixed with the alarming notes of the bells, and I stepped into the

-      dark doorway of the nearest house. Next, there was the spatting of bare

-      feet on the hard street, and a yelling crowd hurriedly rushed by my

-      hiding-place, leaving a trailing smell of the same tobacco. I noticed the

-      gleam of white handles in the moon-lighted street that I had seen in the

-      yellow light of the mine, and then I knew that the convicts had revolted,

-      and that they were armed with the pick-axes I had sold the mining company.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;The bells continued to clang out their terror, and the distant shouting

-      became blended into the continuous murmur that you hear from a distant

-      crowd of excited people. Once in a while the roar of an <i>escopeta</i>

-      would be heard, and soon I saw a magenta glow in the sky, and I knew the

-      town had been fired. Then followed the rapid snapping of pistols, and soon

-      the bellow of the old brass <i>escopetas</i> denoted that the guards had

-      mustered, and that there was an organized resistance to the revolt. All

-      this occurred quicker than I can tell it. I concluded to get back into the

-      broad street I had just come out of, for if there is to be shooting, I

-      want a clear space and as much light as I can get.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Just as I turned the corner, on a run, with both of my colts on a

-      shooting level&mdash;for, by the way, it is always best to come upon your

-      enemy suddenly and surprise him before he knows you are there&mdash;I saw

-      several bodies in the street, and in the distance some dozen men

-      retreating. I stopped near by the first body I came to; and to my horror I

-      saw it was the still warm corpse of Senor Bustino. As I paused and stooped

-      to more closely examine, I thought I could detect the lingering smell of

-      that hellish convict's tobacco. Had the fiends attacked my host's home and

-      dragged him insensate through the streets, or had he been slain whilst

-      hurrying to the post of duty, at the sound of the alarm he knew well the

-      meaning of? If the former, good God! what had been the fate of his wife

-      and lovely daughters? The very thought momentarily unnerved me; and if the

-      convicts had not yet wreaked their vengeance, could I reach them in time

-      to be of effective service? Louder and louder roared the tumult, nearer

-      and nearer came the flashing, glinting lights of torch and pistol, and as

-      I swept round into the street in which Senor Bustino's house stood I could

-      see, pouring down the hill toward it, a demoniac gang led by the

-      bare-breasted convict whose baleful face had haunted me.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I found the senora and her daughters alone and, thank God! unharmed; but

-      not a moment too soon, for even as I hurried them through into the

-      darkness of the night the convicts, with curses on their tongues, lust in

-      their heart, and red ruin in their hands, swarmed into the house. A

-      momentary check came as their leader and another fell in the narrow door,

-      beneath the fire of my two revolvers, and the flames which leaped up from

-      that erewhile home lent their last protection in the shadow they cast,

-      which enabled us, by availing ourselves of it, to escape. By the time we

-      arrived at my hotel the convicts had flown to the mountains and we heard

-      the story of the revolt. If I had not smelled that tobacco I should not

-      have concealed myself in the doorway, my life would not have been worth a

-      picayune, and you may imagine what would have been the fate of my hostess

-      and her household. Senor Bustino, it appeared, had fallen a victim to the

-      high chivalry which prompted him, hearing the bell and knowing its

-      meaning, to hastily summon his servants, and with five or six armed <i>peons</i>

-      hasten out to overtake me and bid me return to his house until all danger

-      was over. He had met the convicts, who had attacked him and struck him

-      down, while most of his servants fled.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Dunton paused, made and lighted another cigarette, and continued: &ldquo;I could

-      not get away for a month, for it was not safe for a small party to leave

-      the town. I brought out some of that tobacco as a curiosity and learned to

-      like it. I send for more every year where it is still prepared, in the

-      prison-pens.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;It is sometimes said, 'Follow your nose and it will take you out of

-      danger,' and in my case the proverb proved true. Sometimes, when I sit

-      here alone, half sleepily watching the curling smoke wreaths, I can almost

-      see the place again, and the rings of smoke shape themselves into a horde

-      of convict demons killing the poor old noble senor, whose elder daughter I

-      have married. And now you know what I owe to the pungent aroma of a

-      cigarette from Carcinto.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div style="height: 4em;">

-      <br /><br /><br /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h2>

-      ANTAEUS, By Frank M. Bicknell

-    </h2>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0038" id="linkimage-0038"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0199.jpg" alt="0199 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0199.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0039" id="linkimage-0039"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="figleft" style="width:20%;">

-      <img src="images/9200.jpg" alt="9200 " width="100%" /><br /><a

-      href="images/9200.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </div>

-    <p>

-      ATE one night, after having been a week out of town, I was returning home

-      by a short cut across fields, when, on coming upon the street again, I

-      found my path barred by a huge, hulking fellow, whose unexpected

-      appearance startled me not a little. This was my introduction to Antaeus,

-      whose better acquaintance I was to make later under rather peculiar

-      circumstances. Antaeus was not a highway robber, but a highway roller, and

-      when he first confronted me he was drawn up beside the road, enjoying an

-      elephantine slumber after his hard day's labor&mdash;being, despite his

-      formidable aspect, quiescent and inoffensive.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I am not sure that it is usual to confer upon steam-rollers the dignity of

-      a name, but my friend had one, and I read it on the neat, black-lettered

-      brass plate affixed to the side of his boiler, near the smoke-stack. This,

-      I take it, was the nearest practicable approach to hanging a locket about

-      his neck that could be managed, and I have always felt grateful to his

-      unknown sponsors for their little act of consideration.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I cannot think of Antaeus otherwise than as a creature&mdash;not simply as

-      a creation&mdash;as a reasoning and responsible being, rather than as a

-      docile, slavish piece of mechanism; but to the unimaginative he seemed to

-      be under the domination of a tolerably clean specimen of humanity whom I

-      shall call the Driver.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      It was nearly a fortnight after our first meeting when I next saw Antaeus,

-      for he was occupied in parts of the town remote from that in which I

-      lived. I heard him occasionally, however, as he passed through the

-      neighborhood after dark, <i>en route</i> for another field of labor, or

-      propelling his weary weight toward the shed under which he was lodged for

-      his Sunday's rest. On such occasions, when I heard him lumbering by, I

-      used to fancy he was taking an after-supper promenade and puffing a

-      meditative cigar as he went along.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      At length, after he had come several times for pleasure, or his own

-      convenience, he made us a professional call and buckled down to work at

-      repairing a strip of street which had long stood in need! of his services.

-      Antaeus was with us for several weeks and during his stay I became, in a

-      measure, &ldquo;chummy&rdquo; with the Driver, from whom I learned various interesting

-      facts about my muscular friend.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Antaeus was a &ldquo;fifteen-tonner,&rdquo; and his market price was $4,000; he was

-      about sixteen feet long by seven wide at his widest part; he consumed from

-      three to four hundred pounds of coal per diem; his strength was equal to

-      that of more horses than I can recollect; he came down upon the dust at

-      the rate of two tons weight per foot in width; and, when put to his best,

-      he could settle into what was intended to be its final resting place about

-      two thousand square yards of new road material per day of ten hours. As

-      regarded wheels he was tricycular, that is, he rested upon one roller in

-      front and two behind, the former being also used for steering purposes. He

-      had two small coal-bunkers in the rear, a reasonably commodious space,

-      with a spring seat, for the Driver, and a good-sized awning overhead. He

-      worked under a low pressure of I forget just how many pounds of steam, and

-      when traveling for pleasure could do rather more miles a day than could a

-      crack trotter per hour when put to his best paces.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      These particulars I learned during the first week that Antaeus was busied

-      in our neighborhood. It was thus that I took the preliminary steps toward

-      making his acquaintance and came to be on pleasant speaking terms with

-      him, as it were. For the subsequent intimacy between Antaeus and myself,

-      neither he nor I were wholly responsible.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      A young lady had appeared at the house across the way. She was pretty, but

-      I noticed her more particularly on account of the seemingly boundless

-      capabilities of her wardrobe. She had a fresh gown for every new day, or

-      at least, in the course of the first fortnight she had displayed a series

-      of fourteen charming costumes, which I could no more hope to describe than

-      could a North Greenland Eskimo to write an intelligent treatise on the

-      flora of the torrid zone. I sat at my window, not too near, every morning

-      when she came out of doors, and admired her through a spy-glass. This may

-      appear like a piece of impertinence&mdash;perhaps it was&mdash;but I shall

-      urge in my defence the fact that the street between us was nearly a

-      hundred feet wide, and our two houses were set so far back that even by

-      using my comparatively short-sighted little telescope, I could not bring

-      her much nearer than we might actually have been without its aid in a more

-      crowded neighborhood.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      One afternoon I stood talking with the Driver, while Antaeus was awaiting

-      the deposit of more material by two tip-carts which were attached to his

-      service, when she passed on the sidewalk, and I imagined she glanced at me

-      with a certain degree of interest, as if she recalled having seen me

-      before&mdash;or was it Antaeus who was the more worthy object of' her

-      attention? Had I dared I should have smiled a little&mdash;merely a vague,

-      sketchy, tentative smile&mdash;but, hardly thinking it prudent, I resisted

-      the temptation and tried, as the photographers put it, to look natural;

-      with the probable result of looking only cross. After having been her

-      neighbor for more than two weeks it seemed as if I ought to have the right

-      to speak, but proper consideration for <i>les convenances</i> forbade. It

-      was vacation season, I was alone in the house, and, there being no

-      womankind to make the necessary advances, I knew not how long it might be

-      ere I could be formally introduced.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0040" id="linkimage-0040"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0204.jpg" alt="0204 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0204.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      While I was meditating upon this state of affairs&mdash;peculiarly

-      unfortunate for me&mdash;she walked on and disappeared around a corner. A

-      few minutes later the fire-alarm bell sounded the number of a box near by,

-      and presently our beautiful fire-engine, all glittering with gold and

-      silver plate, the just pride of the town, dashed rather noisily by. At

-      sight of this brilliant appearance Antaeus gave vent to a species of snort

-      and started up as if to follow, but naturally his lumbering pace was no

-      match for the swiftness of the other machine, and from the first he was

-      left hopelessly in the rear. I went off to see where the fire was&mdash;it

-      proved to be of small account&mdash;and forgot Antaeus entirely until that

-      night, when he recalled himself to my mind by figuring in an odd and

-      whimsical dream.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The scene I have just described was reproduced in part, the Driver,

-      however, being eliminated from it. I thought I was standing beside Antaeus

-      when the young lady appeared, only to disappear. As she went I sighed

-      regretfully, whereupon something happened which ought to have surprised

-      me, and would have done so anywhere else than in a dream. As if in

-      sympathy with me, Antaeus heaved a sigh also&mdash;a most ponderous one&mdash;and

-      thus addressed me:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I can understand your feelings,&rdquo; he said, in a low, hoarse voice. &ldquo;You

-      are longing for what seems the unattainable. Alas! so am I. We might

-      mingle our tears,&rdquo; he went on, beginning to exude moisture around the

-      gauges; &ldquo;or better still,&rdquo; he added, as if struck by an idea, &ldquo;perhaps we

-      can be of assistance to each other.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;In what way?&rdquo; I asked, dubiously.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I might help you to know <i>her</i> if you would help me to an

-      acquaintance with the charming Electra.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Intuitively I divined that Electra must be the steam fire-engine. Big,

-      brawny Antaeus was in love! The ludicrousness of the notion did not strike

-      me then as it did afterward. On the contrary, it seemed to be one of the

-      most natural things imaginable.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, in response to my thoughts, &ldquo;I am passionately enamored of

-      her. I desire unutterably to gain her friendship, her esteem, her love&mdash;even

-      though she may scorn me. I realize that her station in life is far above

-      mine. I am only a plodder, while she is&mdash;Did you see her pass me like

-      a flash of light this afternoon? Was she not entrancing, enthralling,

-      irresistible! Ah, me! when she bestows her love it will be upon one of

-      those fast, dashing railway fellows, I dare say. Yet I should like her to

-      know that I am her friend, that I would risk any danger, that I would go

-      through the torments of&mdash;of the repair shop, that I would give my

-      last puff to serve her. I may be ugly and slow-going, and awkward and

-      ungainly&mdash;Do you think I am so very ungainly, that is, for one in my

-      walk of life?&rdquo; he broke off, in rather piteous query.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Not at all,&rdquo; I hastened to assure him; &ldquo;when we consider your great

-      adaptability to your&mdash;your vocation, I am sure your form would be

-      considered remarkably symmetrical.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Thank you!&rdquo; he exclaimed, gratefully, &ldquo;and whether or not such be the

-      case, at least I am honest and straightforward and true-hearted, though I

-      do blow my own whistle in saying it.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You certainly are.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Then I trust I am not too aspiring in wishing to be numbered among

-      Electra's friends. I hope she would not be ashamed to acknowledge me if

-      she met me in the street.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I should hope not, indeed,&rdquo; I murmured, when he paused for an encouraging

-      word.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Shall we call it a bargain, then, that I aid you to an introduction to

-      the young lady, your neighbor, and in return you so contrive as to bring

-      about a meeting between Electra and me?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;A bargain it is, with all my heart,&rdquo; I assented, grasping and shaking the

-      handle of his throttle-lever, &ldquo;and the sooner the better for the carrying

-      out of it.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Very good; call on me to-morrow, and I will see what can be done for

-      you.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Shall&mdash;shall I come in business hours?&rdquo; I asked, hesitatingly,

-      thinking he might possibly prefer to attend to the matter between twelve

-      and one.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;in business hours, certainly. I mean business,

-      and I hope you do.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      I hastened to set his mind at rest on that point, and, after promising to

-      come on the following afternoon, I shook his handle again, which had the

-      effect of starting him off, and so our interview ended.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      When I awoke in the morning, my dream seemed so vividly real that I

-      resolved to risk making myself ridiculous in my own eyes and to keep my

-      appointment with Antaeus. Accordingly, after lunch, I strolled out toward

-      the section of highway where he was at work. Soon I caught sight of a

-      light-complexioned wagon standing on the opposite side of the street.

-      Attached to it were two plump, blonde ponies, garbed in russet harness,

-      and, on the front seat, reins in hand, talking with an acquaintance upon

-      the sidewalk, sat my young lady.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The natty vehicle had one other occupant, a sooty-faced pug, sitting up

-      very straight on the cushion beside his mistress, with quite the air of a

-      personage of distinction. In front of the ponies' noses was a horse of

-      another breed, a four-legged structure of wood, upholding a sign-board,

-      upon which was painted in glaring letters the word, &ldquo;Danger,&rdquo; and in

-      smaller ones, &ldquo;No Passing; Steam Roller Running.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Upon this scene presently entered an important actor&mdash;I might call

-      him the heavy villian&mdash;Antaeus, grumbling, groaning, puffing and

-      perspiring in his efforts to consolidate the various ingredients for a

-      durable roadbed that had been laid down in his path. As he drew nearer he

-      gave utterance to a significant &ldquo;ahem!&rdquo;&mdash;as I thought&mdash;by way of

-      calling my attention to what was about to happen. Apparently he was going

-      to keep his part of our agreement. A suspicion of what might be his idea

-      began to dawn upon me. He purposed frightening the ponies, an incipient

-      runaway would ensue, and I should be enabled to play the part of heroic

-      rescuer. There were no very original features in the scheme, but it struck

-      me as being quite practicable nevertheless; consequently I was somewhat

-      surprised and grieved when nothing of the nature of what I had anticipated

-      took place.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      But Antaeus was more subtle than I. He wished to avoid the appearance of

-      collusion between us, which might have been given by the execution of the

-      rudimentary strategem I have outlined. (Or perhaps the real explanation of

-      it is that he knew the fat little beasts of ponies were of too phlegmatic

-      a temperament to be disturbed by a bugaboo.) At any rate they only blinked

-      sleepily at Antaeus and then went off into a peaceful doze, entirely

-      unmoved by his nearness. With the black-vis-aged pug, however, it was

-      quite otherwise. He regarded the monster as an interloper, a trespasser,

-      and he began to bark at him angrily. Perceiving that his scoldings had no

-      effect, he lost his temper entirely, and, jumping down from the carriage

-      seat, ran forward toward the advancing engine and continued his barking

-      with redoubled force and fury. His mistress' attention was now aroused,

-      and, seeing how persistently he put himself in the track of the roller,

-      she became uneasy. She called to him persuasively, authoritatively,

-      beseechingly, but he paid her no heed. Apparently he had more faith in

-      himself than had King Canute when he gave his memorable lesson to his

-      courtiers by the seashore.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      From his position in the rear the Driver could not see the dog, and I

-      doubt if he clearly understood the situation, for he made no attempt to

-      avert the threatened catastrophe. The ridiculous animal stood his ground

-      and kept up his remonstrances against the invader; the alarmed young lady

-      threw an eloquently imploring look at me; and Antaeus came on, stolid,

-      grim and impassive. Meanwhile, strangely enough&mdash;as it seems to me

-      now&mdash;I remained inactive until my coadjutor, justly irritated,

-      suddenly growled out what I took to mean:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Come! come; stupid, now is your time; why don't you bestir yourself?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Then I awakened to a full sense of my responsibilities and opportunities,

-      and rushing to the fore, seized the rash and obstinate pug by the scruff

-      of the neck and restored him, rescued from the Juggernaut, to the arms of

-      his grateful mistress.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Thus did Antaeus fulfill his share of our agreement.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      This little incident broke the ice. In less than a week the young lady and

-      I knew each other almost intimately. It transpired that we were in fact

-      old acquaintances. That is to say, she remembered me when I was at home

-      during one college vacation, and she hoped I had not forgotten the small

-      miss who used to come over and play tea-party with my sister. I replied

-      that I should hope not, indeed, and mentally took myself to task for not

-      being surer about it. The boy of seventeen is less likely to be impressed

-      with the girl of eight than is the young man of twenty-eight with the

-      maiden of nineteen. I was positive that at the end of another eleven years

-      I should have had no trouble in recalling her to mind.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I am not a tennis enthusiast, but I will admit that my white flannel suit

-      had a chance to contrast itself with the velvety green of the lawn across

-      the way rather frequently after that. It was a convenient and plausible

-      excuse for being with her a good deal.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0041" id="linkimage-0041"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0212.jpg" alt="0212 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0212.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      The pleasure of her society was worth some physical discomfort, and I

-      couldn't complain if I did feel for a week or more as if I had been given

-      a sound drubbing. One day, after we had finished a series of games&mdash;in

-      which mine was second-best record&mdash;who should appear, laboriously

-      rumbling by, but my well-nigh forgotten friend Antaeus.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What an uncouth piece of mechanism that is!&rdquo; she exclaimed, turning to

-      look at him&mdash;&ldquo;a sort of caricature of a locomotive, one might say. A

-      veritable snail for traveling, too, isn't it?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yes; his&mdash;I mean it's&mdash;best speed does not exceed five miles an

-      hour, I am told. A man might walk as fast as that with a little exertion.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I wonder if it is a pleasant mode of riding&mdash;in a steam-roller?&rdquo; she

-      said, half musing, her gaze still resting on Antaeus. &ldquo;At least one would

-      have plenty of leisure for viewing the scenery along the way. I should

-      rather like to try a short ride on it.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Should you, really,&rdquo; I asked, doubting whether or not she was in earnest.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yes, indeed, I should.&rdquo; If she had been half in jest before she was

-      serious now. &ldquo;It would be a new experience.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Hardly an agreeable one for a lady, though,&rdquo; I commented.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh, that would be a secondary consideration,&rdquo; she returned with a shrug.

-      &ldquo;I should value the experience as an experience, and I should be glad to

-      have it to put on my list.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      I looked inquisitive and she proceeded to explain.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I keep a diary&mdash;not a regulation school girl's diary, in which one

-      feels bound to write something every single day of the year, whether there

-      is anything worth recording or not&mdash;but a collection of memoranda in

-      which I take a good deal of satisfaction. Mine is a classified diary and

-      is contained in about a dozen different books which began as mere covers

-      with nothing between. By putting in leaves when there was occasion the

-      volumes grew until now several of them have attained to a very respectable

-      thickness.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Might I ask, without indiscretion, for a hint as to the nature of their

-      contents, or would that be&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Certainly; there is no secret about them. In fact I have been known to

-      show their pages to certain of my friends, and, to be quite honest, I am

-      rather proud of them. As far as I can recollect now, they are labeled with

-      these titles: 'Books I have read, Places I have visited, Notable

-      personages I have seen, Odd or eccentric characters I have met, Strange

-      sights I have seen, Curious dishes of which I have eaten, Rides I have

-      taken&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Do you mean,&rdquo; I interposed, &ldquo;that every time you take a ride you enter an

-      account of it in your collection?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I mean that whenever I ride in or on any unusual sort of conveyance I

-      make a note of it. That particular book dates far back into my childhood.

-      The idea of starting it was suggested to me by a ride I took on a tame

-      ostrich in South Africa.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      My increased respect for a young lady who had ridden upon an ostrich near,

-      if not actually in his native desert, will be understood by the

-      untraveled.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You have seen something of the world,&rdquo; I remarked.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she admitted; &ldquo;I have been about with my father a great deal. An

-      uncle of mine, who abhors what he calls globe-trotting, tells people, with

-      a look of mock commiseration on his face, that I have been everywhere

-      except at the North Pole and in a Trappist monastery. A slight

-      exaggeration that, and yet not so very far from the truth either. I have

-      visited most of the inhabited countries of the globe, I think, and I have

-      had a chance to try riding in a good many peculiar conveyances. I have

-      ridden on an elephant in India, on a dromedary in Egypt, in a sort of

-      horse-litter in Persia, in a man-carriage in Japan, in a sledge on bare

-      ground at Funchal, on a log-raft down the Rhine, on an Indian's back in

-      Mexico, in the cab of a locomotive on the Southern Pacific, in a fast

-      newspaper train out of New York, on an open car moved by gravity&mdash;and

-      moved very fast, too&mdash;on that wonderful railroad in Peru, on a small

-      landslide among the White Mountains, in a dwelling-house being moved

-      through the streets of this town, in&mdash;&mdash; but I will spare you

-      further enumeration.''

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I hope, however, that you will let me read the catalogue for myself some

-      time. I no longer wonder that so successful a collector should be eager

-      for an additional specimen. I happen to have some little acquaintance with

-      the man who runs our steam-roller; perhaps I could arrange to have your

-      wish for a ride gratified.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh, if you <i>only</i> could!&rdquo; she exclaimed, looking so hopefully

-      expectant that I secretly vowed the thing should come to pass or I would

-      know the most unanswerable of reasons why.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I had learned that Antaeus was neither a native nor a naturalized citizen

-      of our town, but that he owed allegiance to a firm of contractors in a

-      distant city, whose delegate and sole representative here was the Driver;

-      consequently if I could prevail upon him to lend Antaeus I need apprehend

-      no interference from the town authorities.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I began upon the Driver the next forenoon. My persuasiveness took a

-      conventional form, for, not being gifted with an oily tongue, I was forced

-      to trust for success in a great measure upon my chance of stupefying the

-      Driver's conscience with the fumes of several superfine cigars. I spent

-      about two hours in company with Antaeus, taking many turns up and down the

-      street with him for the special purpose of observing his manners and

-      customs. With the advice and consent of his guardian I learned to start,

-      to stop, to reverse, and to steer to my own satisfaction. I had intended

-      to broach the important question that day, but, fearing I might not yet

-      have sufficiently blunted the Driver's moral sensibilities, my courage

-      failed at the critical moment and I permitted myself the expensive luxury

-      of procrastination.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The next day I found the task no easier, and so put it off again, but on

-      the day after I awakened to the fact that delays are dangerous and made

-      the fateful plunge. I frankly told the Driver the whole story, under the

-      belief that he would be less likely to refuse the petition of a lady than

-      one made in my own name.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      If he had suspected all the while, from my persistent attentions, that I

-      had an axe to grind he did not mortify me by showing it. He accepted my

-      fifth cigar as he had my first, with an air of supposing it to be offered

-      from motives of the most disinterested friendliness.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I did not meet with success in the outset. The Driver had grave doubts as

-      to the propriety of &ldquo;loaning&rdquo; a steam-roller. Had he been a Frenchman he

-      might reasonably have urged that, like a tooth-brush, <i>ça ne se prête

-      pas</i>. However, I overcame his scruples in the end, and, probably in the

-      belief that &ldquo;if it were done 'twere well it were done quickly,&rdquo; he agreed

-      to deliver Antaeus into my charge that evening.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Accordingly, not long after sunset, I went across the street and called

-      for the young lady. I realized fully that her father and mother would not

-      have approved of our escapade, but they were absent from home and I tried

-      to believe it was not my duty to stand toward her <i>in loco parentium</i>.

-      She was a bit wilful too, and I feared my remonstrances would do no good

-      unless I carried them to the extreme of refusing my assistance, which,

-      after my ready offer of it, would have been uncivil and unkind.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      At an unfrequented spot, on a broad highway, near the outskirts of the

-      town, Antaeus and the Driver&mdash;the former under head of steam, and

-      both smoking&mdash;were awaiting us. We met them there by appointment at

-      nine o'clock. After many instructions and cautions touching the fire, the

-      water, the steam, the use of the levers, the necessity of keeping a sharp

-      lookout ahead, etc., the Driver left me in sole command, as proud as a boy

-      with his first bicycle.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You find you have got into rather close quarters here, don't you?&rdquo; said

-      I, as I perched myself upon the high seat, from which the machine was most

-      conveniently directed.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;The passenger accommodations might be more spacious, but all things

-      considered I hardly think I shall complain,&rdquo; laughingly returned my

-      companion, who had seated herself on one of the coal-boxes behind me. &ldquo;I

-      took the precaution not to wear my best frock, so I can stow myself away

-      in small compass without fear of damage.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Having in mind the trouble I had taken, her delight in the novelty of her

-      situation was highly gratifying to me. She eagerly asked about the

-      functions of the various levers, try-cocks, and gauges, and insisted upon

-      being allowed to experiment with them, as well as with the steering gear,

-      herself. The knowledge, she said, might be useful to her in the future.

-      Antaeus proved to be entirely docile and allowed himself to be guided as

-      easily as a well-broken flesh and blood horse. The big fly-wheel revolved,

-      the fussy little piston pumped up and down with an ado that seemed absurd

-      considering the slow progress resulting, the steam fretted and hissed, the

-      three massive rollers bore with all their might upon the hard surface of

-      the macadam, and thus crunching, clanking, thumping and rattling, we

-      sluggishly made our way into the obscurity of the night.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      By and by, in the course of our journey, we came to a gentle rise, the

-      ascent of which made Antaeus puff rather laboriously. For a moment my

-      passenger looked slightly uneasy. &ldquo;Why does it do that?&rdquo; she asked.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;The exertion of going up hill makes him breathe a little hard,

-      naturally,&rdquo; I answered, reassuring her. &ldquo;He is feeling in fine condition,

-      though,&rdquo; I added, inspecting the steam-gauge by the light of my lantern;

-      &ldquo;the effect of a plentiful supply of oats, doubtless.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You speak of <i>it</i> as <i>he</i>,&rdquo; she said, questioningly.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Certainly; why not?&rdquo; I retorted. &ldquo;He seems to me unequivocally

-      masculine.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;True,&rdquo; she assented; &ldquo;still in personifying inanimate objects, are they

-      not more frequently made members of the other sex?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Undoubtedly they are, but it strikes me as a ridiculous custom&mdash;particularly

-      in the case of great machines. No engine, however big, black or ungainly,

-      but it must be spoken of by the feminine pronoun. It is hardly a

-      compliment to your sex, is it? Think of the incongruity of putting, for

-      instance, a huge steamboat, named for the president of the company, into

-      the feminine gender!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      She laughed at my fancy, but her merriment did not wound my sensibilities.

-      &ldquo;So it's&mdash;I beg pardon, <i>his</i>&mdash;name is Antaeus, is it?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yes, in honor of that old giant&mdash;do you recollect?&mdash;whom

-      Hercules overcame.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;By lifting him quite off the ground, because as often as he came in

-      contact with Mother Earth his strength was renewed? Yes, I recall the

-      story, and I can see a certain propriety in the name. I rather think this

-      fellow, if he were to be lifted off the ground, could scarcely use his

-      great strength to advantage. Imagine him turned upon his back like a huge

-      beetle, kicking about frantically into the air to no purpose!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Undoubtedly he gets his grip from his contact with the earth,&rdquo; said I.

-      &ldquo;As a flying-machine he would hardly be a success.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Doesn't it strike you that he is almost unnecessarily deliberate?&rdquo; she

-      queried, presently, with a slight show of impatience; evidently the

-      novelty of the adventure was beginning to wear off.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;More so than usual for the reason that we are ascending an incline; but

-      you must remember that Antaeus was not built for speed,&rdquo; returned I,

-      defending my friend.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Evidently not. He belongs to the plodders&mdash;the slow and sure sort.

-      He would be entered for a race in the tortoise class probably. Fancy an

-      absconding cashier trying to escape from justice in a steam-roller! It

-      would be funny, wouldn't it?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      I agreed with her that it would be very funny. &ldquo;Or imagine an eloping

-      couple fleeing before an irate father on such a conveyance!&rdquo; I suggested,

-      with a consciousness of blushing in the dark for the audacity of the

-      conceit.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Now, that is good!&rdquo; she exclaimed, seizing on my idea with an eagerness

-      that showed how far her thoughts were from taking the direction in which

-      mine had dared to stray. &ldquo;What a situation for a modern realistic,

-      sensational drama!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;It might be worked up into something rather impressive, I should think.

-      In these days of bringing steamboats, pile-drivers, fire-engines, real

-      water, and railway trains in upon the stage I don't know why a

-      steam-roller might not be given a chance.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; she cried, waxing enthusiastic. &ldquo;Picture the scene. Enter

-      lovers on 'steam-roller, followed by incensed father in&mdash;in&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;In an electric-car,&rdquo; I supplied experimentally.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Pshaw! don't be foolish!&rdquo; she exclaimed thanklessly. &ldquo;Followed by father

-      in a light gig, drawn by a spirited horse. Overtakes lovers&mdash;demands

-      his daughter&mdash;young man respectfully declines to give her up. Old

-      gentleman prepares to come and take her. Is about to descend from gig when

-      steamroller whistles, spirited horse begins to prance, he is obliged to

-      keep tight hold of reins&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Very good!&rdquo; I put in approvingly. &ldquo;Stern parent threatens direst

-      vengeance, horse cavorts alarmingly, parent rages unavailingly, resolute

-      lover pushes throttle wide open with one hand and retains firm grip upon

-      the helm with the other.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;While the devoted loveress, with her own dainty hands, shovels in coal

-      and encourages him to stand firm&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;By the way, that reminds me of something,&rdquo; I interrupted and, getting off

-      my elevated seat, I bent down and opened the furnace-door; &ldquo;I rather think

-      I should have given Antaeus his supper before now.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      In truth, I had neglected the fire altogether too long. I hastily threw in

-      more coal, but it was already too late to avert the consequences of my

-      forgetfulness. The pressure of steam was diminishing and continued to

-      diminish in spite of all my efforts to prevent it. Back fell the indicator

-      upon the dial, and more and more slowly worked the machinery as the power

-      behind it became less and less.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;We shall not reach the top of the hill at the present rate,&rdquo; remarked my

-      companion. &ldquo;The vital spark appears to be in danger of extinction, so to

-      speak.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;In very great danger,&rdquo; I sorrowfully assented as, with one last feeble

-      effort, Antaeus wearily gave up the struggle.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Nor is that the worst of it,&rdquo; I added, filled with a sudden apprehension.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo; she asked, disquieted by my manner, though not yet

-      divining the inevitable outcome of the existing state of affairs.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You had better descend to <i>terra firma</i> unless you want to go back

-      down hill faster than you came up,&rdquo; I replied significantly.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; she exclaimed, comprehending the danger.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yes; the attraction of gravitation is going to take us back a deal faster

-      than Antaeus ever traveled before. Shall I help you out?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Can't you put on the brakes?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;There are none; the builders of this machine did not foresee such a

-      contingency as this. It was not to be supposed that Antaeus ever would

-      fall into the unskillful hands of a bungling, blundering amateur,&rdquo; said I,

-      calling up hard names for myself from out of the depths of my humiliation.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Don't reproach yourself,&rdquo; she begged; &ldquo;it is I who am to be blamed.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Shall I not help you out before it is too late?&rdquo; I interposed, as Antaeus

-      began to gather way.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What are you going to do,&rdquo; she demanded.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh, I shall stick to the ship,&rdquo; I answered grimly.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;But you will get hurt if you do,&rdquo; she objected.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Antaeus will get hurt if I don't. Come!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;No; I shall stay on board, too,&rdquo; she declared heroically. &ldquo;Now don't try

-      and persuade me to desert, for I shall not do it. Can't I be of some use?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Seeing that she was firm in her resolve to stand by me, I gratefully

-      accepted her offer of assistance, which indeed, was of considerable value.

-      It was important that I should keep a firm hold upon the steering wheel,

-      to prevent the craft from yawing, and, unless I were to be continually

-      screwing my head about in a very painful position, I could not very well

-      see the road over which we were traveling. From a position between the

-      coal-boxes behind me&mdash;now the front of the conveyance&mdash;she could

-      keep a look-out and pass the word to me when it became necessary to

-      correct the deviations in our course. Without her help, it is more than

-      probable that I should have run Antaeus ignominiottsly, perhaps

-      disastrously, into a ditch before reaching the foot of the incline. Even

-      as it was, I had my hands full.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      During the ride, which certainly was one of the most disquieting, mentally

-      and physically, that I ever have taken, we said very little to each other.

-      I gripped the wheel, and she grasped the iron sides of the coal-bunkers,

-      between which she stood, opening her lips only to call, &ldquo;right! left!&rdquo; or

-      &ldquo;steady!&rdquo; as I had hastily instructed her to do for my guidance in

-      steering. So we rumbled and rattled and jolted on down the hill, at

-      continually increasing speed, until at length we reached the base, and I

-      drew a deep breath of relief at knowing that the worst was over.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Arrived upon a level, our momentum gradually expended itself. From an

-      estimated ten-mile rate&mdash;which had seemed terrific&mdash;we slowed to

-      a five, to a three, to a one, to a snail's pace, and then something

-      occurred which, although not threatening any danger to us personally,

-      filled our minds with the liveliest anxiety for the safety of others.

-      Antaeus came to a stand-still just across the railway track.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; said my passenger, inquiringly.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; I returned, blankly, as I pulled my watch from my pocket, &ldquo;this is&mdash;interesting,

-      to say the least.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Are there&mdash;how about trains?&rdquo; she queried anxiously.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      During the jolting of our forced&mdash;and forcible&mdash;descent our

-      lantern had gone out; but there was an electric lamp near, and by its

-      light I managed to read the hour upon my watch-dial.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;There is a train leaving the city at ten, due here at ten-seventeen; it

-      now lacks five minutes of that. I must go to the station and report that

-      the way is blocked. I am sorry to leave you&mdash;or would you prefer

-      going while I wait here?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I think it will be better for you to go.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Very well, then; I'll not be long.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0042" id="linkimage-0042"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0220.jpg" alt="0220 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0220.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      This promise of mine was ill-advised. I hurried up the track to the

-      station, only to find it locked and deserted. It was not the principal

-      station of the town, being one of the half-dozen smaller ones strung at

-      short intervals along the line. In all probability it would not be opened

-      until a few minutes before train-time. As I knew the outcoming train would

-      stop at that station, and thus give me a chance to warn the engineer of

-      the obstruction ahead, I did not feel particularly alarmed at not finding

-      the agent at once. Still I was conscious of some nervous uneasiness while

-      awaiting his arrival.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      At last he came leisurely across the street, jingling his keys as he

-      walked. As soon as he stepped foot upon the platform I went to 'him and

-      began to tell my story. I had not proceeded far with it ere he interrupted

-      me with a startled ejaculation.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Great Scott! The White Mountain express!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What? What do you mean?&rdquo; I gasped,

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;New train&mdash;put on yesterday&mdash;passes here on the way in at

-      ten-ten, and it's more than that now!&rdquo; he exclaimed in staccato, as he

-      hastily unlocked the station door, and, putting in his hand, seized a red

-      lantern that had been sitting ready lighted on the floor within.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      He did not waste any more time with me, but rushed along to the end of the

-      platform, and then began to run with all his might down the track. I

-      succeeded in following him at not too great a distance, although I was

-      turning sick and giddy with all sorts of horrible apprehensions. Visions

-      of a frightful wreck photographed themselves on my brain, the shrieks of

-      the dying sounded prophetically in my ears, and in the midst of it all I

-      was selfishly deploring the fact that I should be called on to pay the

-      damages&mdash;at least to Antaeus&mdash;and wondering if I could contrive

-      to get a hardware discount off the market price of steam-rollers.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The crossing was still hidden from us around a curve when a shrill

-      whistling broke upon my startled ears.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;T-o-o-t!&mdash;t-o-o-t! Toot! toot!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The agent uttered an explosive invocation to the Deity, and added in tones

-      of despair:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;We're too late; she's onto us!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Still we staggered mechanically forward, until suddenly, with a cry of

-      warning, the agent sprang aside, and the express went thundering by.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;See here, young man,&rdquo; my companion exclaimed angrily, &ldquo;if this is a

-      put-up job&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;But it is not!&rdquo; I interposed with indignant protest. &ldquo;I don't understand

-      it any better than you do. Certainly I left Ant&mdash;the roller sprawled

-      across both tracks.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Well, I guess it ain't there now,&rdquo; dryly remarked the agent, watching the

-      rear lights of the fast-receding train, until they were swallowed up in

-      the glare of the &ldquo;local's&rdquo; head-light. &ldquo;I must run back,&rdquo; he added,

-      recalled to a sense of his duties. &ldquo;You take this lantern and go and see

-      if the outward track is clear. Stand between the rails and swing the

-      lantern if it ain't. I'll tell the engineer to go slow and be on the

-      lookout.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      In another minute I was at the crossing. I looked up and down the street

-      for Antaeus, but neither he nor the young lady were to be seen. If that

-      Hercules of a locomotive actually had lifted him into the air and carried

-      him off his absence could not have been more conspicuous. But naturally

-      such a feat>could not have been accomplished, nor had it been attempted.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The real explanation of the mysterious disappearance was this. During my

-      absence the fire under the boiler had been getting up, until finally

-      enough steam had made to start the machinery and so the roller had been

-      enabled to roll itself away out of danger.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I was about to start toward town, under the supposition that Antaeus had

-      taken that direction, when I chanced to recollect that with the levers as

-      I had left them he naturally must go just the opposite way&mdash;that is,

-      retrace the course over which he had lately come. Accordingly I set out on

-      the run toward the hill. Near the foot of it I found him, diagonaled off

-      the road-side with his nose against a tree, loudly hissing in impotent

-      rage at the unwelcome bar to his progress.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I jumped into the engineer's place, reversed the machinery, and without

-      very much trouble succeeded in getting him back into the road and started

-      on the homeward way. I was putting to myself an uneasy question as to the

-      whereabouts of my passenger, when, to my relief, I heard her voice close

-      at hand.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Is it all right?&rdquo; she inquired anxiously; &ldquo;I feared it was going to blow

-      up or something, it made such a horribly distressing noise.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;That very noise was a guarantee that he was <i>not</i> going to blow up,&rdquo;

-       I replied, bringing Antaeus to a stop. &ldquo;He was merely getting rid of

-      superfluous steam through the safety-.valve. I am very glad to find you

-      again. Will you ride? I think we shall get on smoothly this time.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Rather hesitatingly she allowed me to help her in. Then, after taking the

-      precaution to add some fuel to the fire, and to inspect the steam and

-      water indicators by the light of my borrowed red lantern, I opened the

-      throttle and started on again.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Did the train frighten you?&rdquo; I bethought myself to ask, presently.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh, don't speak of it,&rdquo; she returned with a shudder; &ldquo;I heard it coming

-      from two or three miles away, and when it got nearer and nearer and you

-      did not return I was almost frantic. But I couldn't do anything. I don't

-      think it was more than a quarter of a mile distant, with the light

-      gleaming along the rails and making it seem even nearer, when the roller

-      began to move&mdash;but, oh, how slowly! I thought I should&mdash;well, if

-      my hair hasn't turned gray from that scare it never will do so until the

-      natural time for it comes, I am sure.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Well, the old fellow got off in time, evidently.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yes; but with hardly a second to spare. He hadn't cleared the rails of

-      the other track when the train passed. It was a frightfully narrow

-      margin.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You were not on board all this while, I hope.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh, no; that would have been too foolhardy. But when I saw it was making

-      off I didn't want it&mdash;I mean <i>him</i>&mdash;to go careering and

-      cavorting about the country alone, so I climbed up and tried to take

-      command. You showed me how to use the reversing-lever, and it all seemed

-      easy when you were here, but when I was alone I didn't dare touch it for

-      fear something disastrous would happen. All I ventured to do was to take

-      the wheel and keep, him in the road&mdash;or rather try to do so, for I

-      didn't succeed very well. My strength was not equal to it. He swerved a

-      little and then got to going more and more on the bias, until at last,

-      despite all I could do to the contrary, he ran off against a tree and was

-      obliged to stop. Soon afterward that hissing noise began, and, fearing an

-      explosion, I ran and got behind the wall on the other side of the street,

-      and then&mdash;then you came. I don't think I ever was more rejoiced to

-      see anybody in all my life.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      I resisted a temptation to make a speech, which, however much in earnest I

-      was, might have sounded silly, and contented myself with remarking that I

-      was glad to have arrived in such good time, and I turned my attention to

-      the taking of her&mdash;and Antaeus&mdash;safe home.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I could not get to sleep after going to bed that night. The evening's

-      experience of itself was hardly a soporific, but there was yet another

-      matter to occupy my thoughts and prevent my sleeping. Should I venture at

-      the next favorable opportunity to put a certain question to a certain

-      person? If I did so what answer should I receive? I hoped and I feared and

-      I doubted concerning the sentiments of the said certain person toward my

-      unworthy self. I revolved the thing in my mind until there seemed to be

-      little else there but revolution. Progress in any direction, certainly

-      there was none. My body was hardly less restless than my mind.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      At three o'clock it flashed across me like a revelation, that I was

-      hungry. I had eaten a light supper hours ago, and now my stomach was

-      eloquent with emptiness; while the blood which should be doing good

-      service there was pulsing madly about in my brain to no purpose. I went

-      down stairs and inspected the contents of the ice-chest. Roast pork and

-      brown bread make rather a hearty late supper, but breakfast time was so

-      near I thought I would risk them&mdash;and a good deal of them.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Returning to my room, I set a lamp upon a stand at the head of the bed

-      and, taking the first book that came to hand&mdash;it chanced to be an

-      Italian grammar&mdash;I began to read. I had gone as far in the

-      introduction as &ldquo;CC like t-ch in hatchet,&rdquo; when I grew drowsy. I laid down

-      the book, my eyelids drooped, and there is good circumstantial evidence

-      that a moment later I fell asleep, lying on my back with the upper half of

-      my body bent into the form of a bow.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      My slumbers were visited by a dream&mdash;a nightmare, composed, I

-      estimate, of cold roast pork and brown bread, uncomfortable bodily

-      position, the memory of certain occurrences in my past history, and an

-      event to be described later. In this dream Antaeus figured largely. He

-      seemed to come rolling across the bed, and me, until he had stopped upon

-      my chest and stomach.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0043" id="linkimage-0043"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0228.jpg" alt="0228 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0228.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What are you doing?&rdquo; I asked in alarm. &ldquo;Do you know you are crushing me?

-      Get away!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I dare say I am. I <i>weigh</i> fifteen tons,&rdquo; Antaeus replied, heavily

-      jocose. &ldquo;I say,&rdquo; he continued with a burst of anger, &ldquo;you are an

-      honorable, high-minded sort of person, you are. What do you mean by

-      treating me so? Have you forgotten our compact? I have given you every

-      chance man could ask for with <i>her</i>; what have you done for me in

-      return? Nothing. Even worse than nothing. To faithlessness you have added

-      treachery. Not content with deceiving me, you have sought to destroy me. I

-      suppose you hoped to see my <i>débris</i> strewn along the iron way.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      I was conscience-stricken by his accusations; but I could refute a part of

-      them. &ldquo;Oh, no! oh, no!&rdquo; I protested, &ldquo;it was an accident, I assure you. So

-      far from desiring such a thing, I declare that I cannot even imagine your

-      being reduced to <i>débris</i>. I&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Bah!&rdquo; roared Antaeus, and in his rage he began to belch forth smoke&mdash;smoke

-      so thick and black that I thought I should be stifled by it. In another

-      moment I awoke gasping.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      One feature of my dream was a reality&mdash;the smoke. The room was filled

-      with it, and there were flames beside. As nearly as I can guess, the

-      situation on which I opened my eyes had been thus brought about. While I

-      slept the wind had risen and, pushing inward the shade at the open window,

-      had pressed it against the small, unstable stand until the latter had been

-      tipped over, bringing the lighted lamp to the floor. The muslin curtains

-      had caught fire; from them the straw matting, kerosene-soaked, had flamed

-      up, so that now a pretty lively blaze was in progress.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I sprang off the bed, made a snatch at some of my clothes, and got out of

-      the room as soon as possible. After I had helped save everything portable,

-      that could be saved without risk to life, I went and stood before the

-      house in the cool air of the early dawn and watched the struggle between

-      flames and flood. In the midst of my perturbation I noticed something that

-      struck me as being worthy of remark. I had left Antaeus at the edge of the

-      roadway before our gate; now the fire-engine, Electra, had been drawn up

-      beside him. He was maintaining strict silence, but I hoped he was being

-      well entertained, for Electra kept up an incessant buzzing&mdash;woman

-      like, quite willing to do all of the talking. At any rate my share of our

-      compact was now fulfilled; Antaeus and I were quits.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      In the later morning I saw the young lady. My misfortunes called forth

-      from her expressions of sincerest pity; indeed, she bitterly reproached

-      herself for having been the direct cause of them. When I described my

-      narrow escape from death by suffocation, she grew so pale that I thought

-      she must feel considerable interest in me, although I immediately

-      reflected that it could not be very pleasant to have one's next-door

-      neighbor roasted alive.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      By-and-by I told her of my two dreams, and of the way in which I finally

-      kept faith with Antaeus.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;It is a shame that you had to burn up your house to do it,&rdquo; she

-      commented, &ldquo;when a brush-heap might have answered the purpose quite as

-      well.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      I thought&mdash;or I hoped&mdash;that the time had come for making a

-      decisive move with some chance of its being effective. I furtively

-      possessed myself of her hand.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I should not regret the house so much,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;if I might hope you

-      would deign to extend to me the favor with which Electra has made Antaeus

-      happy.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      This was bunglingly put, but she understood me well enough, although she

-      murmured in reply:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You have it already; we are&mdash;acquainted. Surely you don't want&mdash;anything&mdash;more.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      But she did not withdraw her hand.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I have just heard that the town fathers contemplate purchasing Antaeus and

-      giving him a permanent residence &ldquo;within our borders.&rdquo; If this report be

-      true, I shall use all my influence&mdash;from motives of gratitude&mdash;to

-      have him lodged beside the engine-house, so that he may be near his

-      bewitching Electra.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0044" id="linkimage-0044"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0238.jpg" alt="0238 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0238.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div style="height: 4em;">

-      <br /><br /><br /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h2>

-      WHICH MISS CHARTERIS? By C. G. Rogers

-    </h2>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0045" id="linkimage-0045"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0239.jpg" alt="0239 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0239.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0046" id="linkimage-0046"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="figleft" style="width:20%;">

-      <img src="images/9239.jpg" alt="9239 " width="100%" /><br /><a

-      href="images/9239.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </div>

-    <p>

-      AVING completed his breakfast, Mr. Percy Darley seated himself in a n

-      easy-chair, facing the cheerful grate-fire of ruddy anthracite, placed his

-      toes upon the fender, and relapsed into a thoughtful contemplation of

-      Leonard's letter.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You had best come, my dear boy,&rdquo; said the letter. &ldquo;It is a sleepy little

-      town&mdash;one of those idyllic Acadian places of which you used to rave

-      when you were tired of the city and fretful at her ways. We can smoke our

-      pipes and chat over the old days, before a fire in my big, old-fashioned

-      grate. There is a noble stretch of clear ice here now. Our little river is

-      frozen over, solid and safe, and the darkest prospects do not foreshadow

-      another fall of snow for a fortnight. The sleighing is superb; and, as

-      Madeline Bridges says, 'the nights are splendid.' Pack up your traps and

-      come.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The invitation was an alluring one, thought Darley. His head ached, and

-      his heart was sick of the everlasting round of parties and calls and

-      suppers. What a vision of beatific rest that idea of a chat over old

-      times! Ah, dear old times of childhood and youth, when our tears are as

-      ephemeral as our spendthrift dimes!

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      There seemed to be only one rational preclusion&mdash;to wit, Miss

-      Charteris. Not that he thought Miss Charteris would personally object to

-      his absence, but, rather, that <i>he</i> had an objection to leaving Miss

-      Charteris. Miss Charteris was an heiress, and a handsome woman; to be

-      brief, Miss Charteris being rich, and our friend Darley having the

-      millstone of debt about his neck, he had determined, if possible, to wed

-      her. If he went away, however, at this period of his acquaintance, when

-      the heiress and he were becoming fast friends, some one else would

-      doubtless step into the easy shoes of attention.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      So Darley went down into the city and telegraphed his friend Leonard that

-      he would be in Dutton on the evening train. He thought he should like to

-      see Miss Charteris, however, before going. He walked back slowly along a

-      particularly favorite drive of hers, and presently met this young lady

-      with her stylish little turn-out, looking very radiant and happy on this

-      bright winter morning.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      There was some one with her&mdash;a fact Darley noticed with no great

-      feeling of pleasure. It was not a strange thing; but, following the course

-      of things as they had been for the past few weeks, it should have been

-      Darley himself. This morning it was a sallow, dark young man whom Darley

-      did not remember having seen before.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Darley explained that he was about to leave town for a few weeks, as soon

-      as Miss Charteris had drawn up alongside the pavement to wish him

-      goodmorning. Then she introduced him to her companion. &ldquo;A very old friend&mdash;Mr.

-      Severance&mdash;just arrived from Australia.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Dear old Dutton!&rdquo; said Miss Charteris, looking reminiscent. &ldquo;You must not

-      break any trusting hearts down there, Mr. Darley; for the Dutton maids are

-      not only lovely, but proverbially trusting.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You know Dutton, then?&rdquo; Darley answered, surprised.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh, yes! I have a very dear aunt in Dutton&mdash;oh, but you will see! I

-      spent some of my happiest days there. So did you, I think, Lawrence.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mr. Severance reflectively, &ldquo;days almost as happy as the

-      present day. Don't you think, Mr. Darley, that a man's best years cluster

-      round the age of ten?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Darley could not help agreeing to this. All men, provided their youth has

-      been happy, think so. Darley said good-by, and walked on.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Who was this fellow Severance? <i>She</i> called him Lawrence&mdash;<i>Lawrence</i>,

-      by Jove! There was something in it&mdash;rather old schoolmates, too, they

-      had been, and what might they not be now? It was more pique than

-      disappointment which caused Darley to wish momentarily that he was not

-      scheduled for Dutton. However, he must stand the hazard of the die.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      His things were soon packed; he also supplied himself with a box of the

-      cigars Leonard and he used to love in &ldquo;the days that are no more,&rdquo; and a

-      copy of &ldquo;Outing.&rdquo; And ten hours later the train, with a jovial roar, ran

-      into the little town, where the lights gleamed cozily against the snowy

-      background, and the sleigh-bells seemed to bid him a merry, musical

-      welcome.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      A short, erect, trimly built man with a finely chiseled face and a brown

-      skin that seemed to breathe of pine woods and great wide, sunlit rivers

-      grasped Darley's hand as he stepped to the platform.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Well, old man!&rdquo; exclaimed the brown man, cheerily. &ldquo;Awfully glad you've

-      come! Come this way! Here we are, Joseph! Step in!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;By Jove! it <i>is</i> wintry here, isn't it?&rdquo; said Darley, as he slid

-      under the buffalo robes. &ldquo;What a peerless night!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      After supper the two men made themselves thoroughly comfortable in great

-      leather chairs before Leonard's promised fire, and smoked and chatted.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You look just the same, old boy,&rdquo; said Leonard, scanning Darley

-      carefully. &ldquo;But the hair is a little thin in front there, and I think I

-      see the growing spot of baldness, as Ike Marvel has it. Did you ever read

-      that great book of his, 'A Bachelor's Reveries?' No? Well, you should. I

-      find it sweetest company. Yes, you are the same old sobersides&mdash;a

-      great deal deeper than you look, as the little boy said when he fell into

-      the well. And not married yet, eh?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Who, the little boy?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;No; you, you rogue! I should have thought you would have gone off long

-      ago.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;A hard question to answer. Are we not always in a condition of mild

-      wonder that our friends have not gone over to the married ranks, when we

-      ourselves have not? However, from floating gossip&mdash;that tongue's

-      flotsam&mdash;I have heard that you meditate going over.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Eh?&rdquo; said Darley, pricking up his ears.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; answered Leonard, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, &ldquo;Beau Brummel

-      cannot pay court to a beauty without the world knowing it! I, even I, have

-      heard of Miss Bella Charteris. She is not the sort of girl, if I may make

-      so bold, that I would have imagined you pinning yourself to. I should have

-      thought some quiet, sober, angelic little woman like&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Like who?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Well, I was going to say like her sister,&rdquo; said Leonard softly, bending

-      his head over his pipe as he slowly refilled it. &ldquo;But you do not know her

-      sister, I think.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Why, I did not even know Miss Charteris had a sister!&rdquo; exclaimed Dar-ley

-      in amazement.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;No? Why, Miss Florence Charteris lives here&mdash;in Dutton!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Miss Charteris mentioned an aunt, and hinted at some one else whom she

-      said I would see, now that I think of it.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Irony, I suppose,&rdquo; said Leonard quietly, smiling a queer little smile.

-      &ldquo;Yes, Miss Charteris the second lives in Dutton: a quaint, gray little

-      life, good, patient, and God-like. She is the sweet angel of Dutton. But

-      tell me, Percy, are you in love with your Miss Charteris?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I am afraid she is not my Miss Charteris,&rdquo; said Darley, smiling. &ldquo;And to

-      be candid with you, Jack, I am not in love with her&mdash;for which,

-      perhaps, I should be thankful. However, if Miss Charteris <i>does</i>

-      accept me, which I think is highly improbable, I shall marry her for

-      money.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Leonard shook his head. &ldquo;I thought that was the way the wind lay,&rdquo; he said

-      sagaciously. &ldquo;Don't do it,&rdquo; he added tersely, after a pause. &ldquo;Take an old

-      fool's advice&mdash;don't do it. I think you would only live to regret

-      having sold yourself into bondage. That is what it would amount to in your

-      case. You are not built upon rough enough lines, I know, not to care at

-      having your poverty sneered at and constantly thrown in your face. It is a

-      puzzle to me how any man with any sense of independence and honor can sell

-      himself, as some men do; and it is beyond my understanding how <i>you</i>,

-      with your fine feelings and high ideal of manhood, ever thought of such a

-      thing.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      This was certainly rubbing it in, Dar-ley thought. But, then, Leonard was

-      such an exceptionally odd fellow, with his one-man-in-a-million code of

-      chivalry and his ethical eccentricities. Still, Darley shrunk at the

-      castigation, because he knew that the feelings that prompted it were

-      sincere.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;But I am terribly in debt, Jack,&rdquo; he said, almost deprecatingly. &ldquo;What is

-      there left for me to do?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What is there left? The opportunity to fight it out!&rdquo; retorted Leonard.

-      &ldquo;Retrench. In a year, or two at most, unless you are <i>hopelessly</i>

-      insolvent, if you live without the profitless pleasures that have brought

-      you to this pass, you can come out triumphantly independent.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Darley shook his head. &ldquo;I am afraid I could not stand the strain, Jack,&rdquo;

-       he answered, almost sadly. &ldquo;A fellow of your caliber might. How is it, by

-      the way, that you yourself are still in single harness?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Leonard was silent, gazing in the coals with almost a melancholy air.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Perhaps I should not say so,&rdquo; he said at last, &ldquo;yet you have been so

-      frank with me; but I do not like the subject when applied to myself.

-      However, there is but one answer, which is embodied in that one word that

-      hangs like a pall before the eyes of the young literary aspirant&mdash;<i>refused</i>.

-      I shall always be single, Darley. Always the same old solitary sixpence,

-      with my rods and guns and dogs and books. Not bad companions, all of them,

-      when used well&mdash;faithful, too. Eh, Rosy?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The beautiful hound addressed raised her head and looked pathetically at

-      her master, rubbing her nose in a sympathetic way against his leg.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Darley felt deeply interested. &ldquo;What was the trouble, old fellow?&rdquo; he

-      ventured.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;The whole story is contained in that one word&mdash;refused. I never

-      cared for but one woman; and <i>she</i> did not care for me&mdash;at

-      least, not enough to marry. Which was, after all, the most natural thing

-      in the world, I suppose. I could not blame her, could I, since I would

-      only marry for love myself? It is not much of a story, is it?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;On the contrary, I think there is a great deal in it!&rdquo; answered Darley,

-      warmly. &ldquo;I think I see that you loved this woman as only men with hearts

-      like yours can love&mdash;once and for all.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Loved her? My love has no past participle, Darley! I shall always love

-      her! I shall always think her the sweetest woman in the world, and the

-      best! There is no other like her&mdash;God bless her! But you are sleepy,

-      old fellow; and even Rosy is yawning and thinks it is time all decent

-      people went to bed. Let us have one of the old-time horns, one of those

-      old camp-fire nips&mdash;and then to bed. To-morrow you shall see our

-      little town. By the way, did you bring your skates?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Skates! I haven't seen one for five years.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Never mind. I have a dozen pairs, and I dare say we can fit you. Do you

-      curl? No? Well, you shall learn. We have the finest rink within a hundred

-      miles. Here's your room, old fellow! Good-night, and rosy dreams and

-      slumbers bright, as Sir Walter says.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The days passed happily for Darley. The ice was perfect; and though he had

-      not skated for years, his old power over the art came swiftly back. The

-      river was one glaring, narrow, indefinite sheet of incomparable ice. Then

-      there was the curling-rink, of which Leonard was an ardent devotee. It is

-      a quiet, satisfying sport, this &ldquo;roaring&rdquo; game, and has peculiar charms

-      for the man who has turned forty. The snow-bird shooting was good, too,

-      out in the broad white fields beyond the town. And one glittering night

-      the pair drove out into the country, and went on a hunt after some

-      depredatory foxes with some farmers. They did not get the foxes; but they

-      had a jolly supper at the farm-house, and an eight-hand reel in the

-      kitchen, which Darley thoroughly enjoyed&mdash;more, he affirmed to his

-      black-eyed partner, than any ball in the city he had ever attended.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      One morning, Leonard having some business to detain him, Darley went off

-      alone for the customary spin down the river. Skating out of the town and

-      away past the white fields and the farmhouses, he presently espied a small

-      feminine figure ahead of him, gliding quietly along. Suddenly the figure

-      tripped and fell. One skate had come off and flew out to the center of the

-      ice.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Darley sped to the rescue. The little figure in gray made a futile attempt

-      to rise.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0047" id="linkimage-0047"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0252.jpg" alt="0252 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0252.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Are you hurt?&rdquo; exclaimed the rescuer as he wheeled to a short stop.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The lady looked up, and Darley saw the likeness in an instant. It was the

-      other Miss Charteris&mdash;not at all like his acquaintance of the city. A

-      rather pale, patient little face, with quiet gray eyes set far apart; a

-      plain face, Darley said to himself. But on second thought he decided that

-      it was not.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I am afraid I have hurt my ankle,&rdquo; said this little woman in answer to

-      Darley's inquiry. &ldquo;I tried to stand up, but I got a twinge that told me

-      something was wrong.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Let me help you. Which foot is it?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;This one,&rdquo; indicating the foot minus the skate.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Darley lifted her up. &ldquo;Now you keep the injured member off the ice,&rdquo; he

-      said, &ldquo;and I will skate you to shore.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;It was all my fault,&rdquo; said the patient, as Darley knelt down and removed

-      the remaining skate. &ldquo;I would put on these old-fashioned things just

-      because the blades are splendid.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Darley secured the refractory skate and removed his own. Then he asked how

-      the ankle felt.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Miss Charteris attempted to stand upon both feet, but sat down upon the

-      bank instantly.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;It <i>does</i> hurt,&rdquo; she said, as if unwilling to admit the painful

-      fact. She looked at Darley almost appealingly, then about her. The nearest

-      house was a quarter of a mile away. Finally she looked back at Darley,

-      with an expression that seemed to say, What are we going to do now, I

-      wonder?

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Darley made up his mind quickly. He always did when a woman was in the

-      question. &ldquo;You can't walk,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;I shall have to carry you.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Miss Charteris' pale cheeks assumed a rapid flush. &ldquo;I can walk,&rdquo; she said,

-      hastily.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; said Darley, gently. &ldquo;Take my arm.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      A few painful steps proved to Miss Charteris that she <i>could</i> walk,

-      at the expense of excruciating agony. So, being a sensible little soul,

-      she stopped.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You see, it is impossible,&rdquo; said her knight. &ldquo;You will have to let me

-      carry you, Miss Charteris. I beg your pardon for not introducing myself. I

-      am Mr. Percy Darley, a guest at Mr. John Leonard's.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I knew you were Mr. Darley, but I don't see how you knew that I was Miss

-      Charteris,&rdquo; said that young lady, looking surprised, and quite forgetting

-      her ankle.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I have the pleasure of knowing your sister, and I recognized the

-      likeness,&rdquo; answered Darley, truthfully. &ldquo;Now, will you allow me? Or I am

-      afraid I shall have to take the law into my own hands.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I am not the law,&rdquo; retorted Miss Charteris, attempting to proceed.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;The very reason that I should become the law,&rdquo; answered Darley, laughing.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I think I can <i>hop</i>,&rdquo; said the girl, desperately. She did so for a

-      few yards, and then came to a last halt. Hopping through deep snow proved

-      rather heavy exercise.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I am afraid you will have to carry me,&rdquo; she said in a tone of surrender.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Darley picked her up. She was no weight, this little gray thing, and

-      Darley was an athletic young man. Despite the snow, it did not take him

-      long to reach the farm-house.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The farmer's wife was a kind soul, and knew Miss Charteris. She also knew

-      a sprain, she said, when she saw one; and Miss Charteris' ankle was

-      sprained. So, while the injured member was being attended to by the deft

-      hand of the farmer's wife, Darley posted off to the town for Miss

-      Charteris' aunt's sleigh, the farmer being absent with his own.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Darley secured the sleigh, drove back to the farm-house, and his charge,

-      her ankle warmly and carefully wrapped up, was placed in the cutter and

-      driven home. The family doctor had already arrived, and Darley took his

-      leave.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;May I call and see how you are get-ing on?&rdquo; he ventured as he said

-      good-by.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I shall be happy if you will,&rdquo; said Miss Charteris. But the gray eyes

-      seemed to say to Darley, Could you think of not doing so?

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I am afraid you are in love, or on the way,&rdquo; said this young man to

-      himself as he walked briskly to his friend's house. &ldquo;In love, young

-      fellow, and with a real woman, not a woman of the world, but a genuine

-      sweet woman, one worth the loving.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      He related the story as simply as he could to Leonard, and the latter

-      listened quietly. But Darley did not observe the odd look in his friend's

-      eyes during the narration, nor did he guess that Leonard was saying to

-      himself, Ah! my young friend, and have you, too, fallen at the first

-      shaft?

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Shall we go round to the rink?&rdquo; suggested Leonard the following evening,

-      after dinner, as they sat over their pipes.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I think I will stroll round and see how Miss Charteris is,&rdquo; said Darley,

-      smoking furiously. &ldquo;I will call in at the rink afterward, eh?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Very well, old fellow,&rdquo; was all Leonard said.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Darley found Miss Charteris' ankle improved. The doctor had pronounced it

-      a severe sprain, had prescribed some wonderful liniment, and had

-      alleviated the pain.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;But I shall not be able to be out again for three weeks,&rdquo; said the

-      invalid, plaintively, on the occasion of a second visit of anxious

-      inquiry. &ldquo;It is too bad; for I think open-air skating the most

-      exhilarating of all sport! It always seems to lift me up.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;It didn't seem to lift you up yesterday,&rdquo; suggested Darley.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;No, indeed. I have thought since that I should be very grateful to you,

-      because, if you had not happened along, I am sure I don't know what I

-      should have done.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Don't talk like that, please,&rdquo; said Darley, gravely. It is wonderful the

-      aversion a young man has to being thanked in a case of this sort&mdash;at

-      least, his profession of dislike. &ldquo;I cannot tell you how unfortunate I

-      regard the doctor's mandate,&rdquo; said Darley after one of those awkward

-      pauses between two young people who fancy, on a short acquaintance, that

-      they have a tender regard for each other. &ldquo;On your own account, of course,

-      because I can understand how you feel over losing such a chance as the

-      present ice affords; but chiefly, I am selfish enough to say, on my own

-      behalf, because by the time you are able to skate again, even if the ice

-      is still good, my visit will have come to an end; and I had been hoping,

-      presumptuously enough, I know, to see you often.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Will it be really imperative for you to return so soon?&rdquo; said Miss

-      Charteris, working rapidly at the woolen hood on which she was engaged.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I am afraid so,&rdquo; answered Darley, with something very like a sigh. &ldquo;I

-      could not infringe on too much of Leonard's time&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Ah! it is not the city which calls, then?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;No, it is not the city,&rdquo; answered Darley, laughing, and being angrily

-      conscious that he was flushing. &ldquo;But Jack is such a dear good fellow, that

-      I know he would not dream of sending me away.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Miss Charteris' eyes were on her work, and she plied her fingers rapidly.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Do you know Leonard very well, Miss Charteris?&rdquo; continued Darley, as the

-      girl did not venture a remark.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh, yes!&rdquo; The tone might have suggested that Miss Charteris was agitated;

-      but Darley went on, radiant and sublimely ignorant.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;He is a grand fellow&mdash;the one man in the world that I would fall

-      down and worship! I think Shakespeare must have had him in his vaticinal

-      eye when he put those perfect words, that immortal eulogy, in the mouth of

-      Antony: 'His life was gentle; and the elements so mixed in him that Nature

-      might stand up and say to all the world, '<i>this</i> was a man!'&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The maid came in and asked if she should light the lamps.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Not just yet. I prefer this twilight. Do you, Mr. Darley?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Very much&mdash;for itself. It is very satisfying and soothing, and

-      always seems to me like a benediction. But it is very bad for your eyes,

-      and very soon I shall be only able to half see your face.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Which will be very good for <i>your</i> eyes. Well, I have done work for

-      today.&rdquo; Miss Charteris laid the hood away, which Darley had been regarding

-      curiously, and folded her hands in her lap. The action and the moment made

-      Darley think of the &ldquo;Angelus;&rdquo; the &ldquo;Angelus&rdquo; made him think that it was

-      getting late, and that made him think that it was time to go. The lamps,

-      he said, had come round, and&mdash;&mdash;

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;No, sit down, unless you really want to go,&rdquo; said Miss Charteris. She was

-      remarkably frank, this young lady. &ldquo;The lamps have not come round; and, on

-      the contrary, I think that my disinclination for them should be taken as

-      proof that I do not think it is time for you to go. Besides, the days are

-      cruelly short now.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I find them so,&rdquo; answered Darley, softly. &ldquo;Leonard is making everything

-      so comfortable for me that I do not know what I shall feel like when the

-      curtain has rung down. It will seem like awaking suddenly from dreamland

-      to cold earth again. I am sure I shall feel like one of those mountains

-      falling into the sea of dullness that Poe describes: 'Mountains toppling

-      evermore into seas without a shore.'&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You seem a great admirer of Mr. Leonard,&rdquo; ventured Miss Charteris. There

-      was just the slightest suspicion of jealousy in her tone, which Darley did

-      not notice. Was it because he had inadvertently attributed his loneliness

-      at leaving to his friend's kindness, and not paid her that little tribute

-      of homage which women love? But who knoweth the heart of woman? Darley

-      longed to tell her why he should feel lonely when he came to say good-by;

-      but he did not wish to garnish such a declaration with quotations from

-      poets. Let a man speak from the inspiration of the moment when he tells

-      his love, or hints at it.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Admirer!&rdquo; he echoed, in reply to Miss Charteris' remark. &ldquo;It is more than

-      that. Just think! We were inseparable for years. I wish we had remained

-      so. No one who knows Jack Leonard as I have known him could help thinking

-      him a perfect man, noble and generous, as he is!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;We are one in that opinion,&rdquo; answered Miss Charteris, quietly. &ldquo;And, next

-      to esteeming a noble man, I can esteem his friend who can speak so

-      unselfishly and sincerely of him, as you have done.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Darley felt touched&mdash;not so much at the words, but at the way in

-      which they were spoken, gently, deeply, as if breathing of sincereness.

-      But he did not distinguish anything beyond that in the grave eulogy to

-      Leonard and himself.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      At length the lights <i>had</i> to be brought in, and Darley rose to go.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You said you felt it unfortunate that I should be unable to skate,

-      because you had been hoping to see me often,&rdquo; said Miss Charteris. She was

-      conscious of a slight flush, but she went bravely on. In certain

-      circumstances a woman <i>has</i> to be what prudes call bold. &ldquo;Did you

-      mean it?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;How could you doubt that I meant it? I certainly did mean it.&rdquo; Darley was

-      a little confused by this frankness. All true women must be coquettes in

-      some degree, was Darley's creed. But Miss Charteris was hardly a coquette

-      even in a slight degree, he thought. It was not frivolousness that

-      prompted her to speak in this way.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Because, if you meant it,&rdquo; continued this charming young person, &ldquo;I shall

-      be glad if you will come and see me as often as you like, if you will not

-      find it dull.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Miss Spooner, Miss Charteris' aunt, came in at this moment and spoiled the

-      eloquent look of reproach that Darley gave her niece.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Did you ever see such a girl!&rdquo; exclaimed Miss Spooner in her high but

-      pleasant voice. Miss Spooner's speech was emphatic, and endowed with

-      realism. Darley felt like saying that he never had, indeed. &ldquo;<i>I</i>

-      never did! Going into mourning, I believe, because she can't go out and

-      break another ankle! You wouldn't catch <i>me</i> on that ice! I saw it

-      to-day from the bridge&mdash;horrible, shiny, treacherous stuff! Not going

-      already, Mr. Darley? Better stop to tea.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Darley said he could not stop to tea <i>that evening</i>; which meant that

-      he could some other evening, of course, and would be unspeakably happy to

-      do so. All of which Miss Spooner understood; and so she extended her

-      hospitality to him for the next evening.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Do you know, Percy, I believe you are going to marry Miss Charteris,&rdquo;

-       said Leonard, quietly, one evening. &ldquo;<i>Our</i> Miss Charteris, I mean.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What makes you say so?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I believe you are in love with her; in fact, I know you are. And I hope

-      you will. Nothing could make me happier.&rdquo; Darley looked the satisfaction

-      he could not speak at this little speech.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I am in love with her. But I am not good enough for her,&rdquo; he said,

-      humbly. &ldquo;I have been a worthless beggar all these years&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You can prove your worth,&rdquo; said Leonard, warmly. &ldquo;And you <i>must</i>, if

-      you marry Florence Charteris. I know you are not worthless; but you must

-      let the good come to the surface.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I shall work,&rdquo; answered Darley, earnestly. &ldquo;I begin to feel now the

-      approving glow that comes to a man when he anticipates marrying a woman he

-      loves. But why should I anticipate? I have not the slightest reason to

-      believe that Miss Charteris cares a jot for me!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Is that true, Percy?&rdquo; questioned Leonard, sharply.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Darley did not know whether it was true or not. He did not like to be

-      sanguine, he said. No; he had no reason to think Miss Charteris cared

-      whether he went back to town to-morrow. Not an item of which Leonard

-      believed.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I hope earnestly you will win her,&rdquo; he said again. &ldquo;But you will have to

-      retrench. Florence Charteris is as poor as a church mouse.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I am heartily glad of it,&rdquo; said Darley, warmly. &ldquo;I shall be the man I

-      have never yet been if I win her.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Well, you will win her,&rdquo; said Leonard. &ldquo;I feel it in my bones.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      So the days went round; and each one found Darley at Miss Spooner's. Even

-      little Dutton had begun to watch with interest the outcome of this quiet

-      wooing of the little lady whom all the town loved. The evolutions of

-      acquaintance had merged rapidly into the sweeter plane of an almost

-      wordless courtship; but as yet Darley had not ventured to speak He felt

-      fearful lest his dream should be dispelled; and yet, though he was not a

-      vain man, he felt that this lovable little woman cared for him. He could

-      not go back to town and leave his love unspoken, however; because if he

-      had done so this little story would not have been written. And at length

-      came the day when he felt that his visit had been prolonged beyond the

-      limits that even close friendship allows.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I am going away to-morrow,&rdquo; he said on this eventful afternoon. It was

-      just such an afternoon as that first one which he had spent there. It was

-      growing dusk; and through the window they could see the red lights of

-      home, those terrestrial apostles of Hesperus, punctuating the white

-      landscape.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I am going away to-morrow,&rdquo; repeated Darley. Miss Charteris said nothing,

-      but gazed out of the window.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Why don't you say something?&rdquo; he burst out. &ldquo;Have you nothing to say?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What should I say? Do you want me to say good-by? Is it such a sweet

-      word, then, that you are anxious that I should say it now?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Darley knelt beside the little dusky figure in the rocker. How sweet it is

-      to have the woman you love speak to you like this, and to hear her voice

-      tremble, and to feel that she cares for you!

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;No, I don't want you to say good-by,&rdquo; he said, very gently. &ldquo;I want you

-      to tell me not to go. Can't you see that the thought of leaving you has

-      been like the thought of eternal darkness to me? I love you, and I want

-      you for my own, always, that I may never know the bitterness of good-by!&rdquo;

-       Miss Charteris turned her head, and Darley saw that the gray eyes he loved

-      so well were wet. She put out one little white hand till it rested on his.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Stay!&rdquo; she whispered.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      After a while, when the lamps&mdash;those horribly real and unromantic

-      things&mdash;were brought in, they talked of other matters. But both

-      seemed very happy, and ready to talk of anything. Even the mysterious

-      hood, which was now completed, came in for a share of attention, and the

-      inquisitive Darley learned that it was for a &ldquo;poor old soul,&rdquo; as Miss

-      Charteris expressed it, who lived in a wretched little shanty with a

-      worthless grandson, at the other end of the town. By-and-by Miss Charteris

-      said:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I have some news for you. Bella was married yesterday. Can you guess to

-      whom?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;No, I cannot,&rdquo; answered Darley, almost breathlessly. Bella was the Miss

-      Charteris of the city. He did not know whether to feel glad or

-      indifferent, but he was free of the gentlest touch of spleen. A woman will

-      be conscious of a twinge of pique when she hears that a man with whom she

-      has had some little love affair has married some one else. But Darley was

-      not conscious of any such sensation.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;It was very quiet,&rdquo; continued Miss Charteris. &ldquo;At least, I gather so from

-      the paper which tells me of it. Bella never writes me, and not even on

-      this occasion has she done so. However, she is now Mrs. Lawrence

-      Severance.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; exclaimed Darley in a superior tone, which testified that he knew

-      something about it. Then he mentioned having met Severance. He had not

-      said anything of the occurrence before, not caring for Miss Charteris of

-      the city as a subject of conversation with her sister, for reasons best

-      known to himself.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;There is quite a little story about it, you know,&rdquo; continued Miss

-      Florence. &ldquo;Lawrence, you know, and Bella have been lovers ever since they

-      were so high, and Bella was Aunt Mary Spooner's favorite. When Aunt Mary

-      died she left a great deal of money for Bella when she should come of age,

-      stipulating, however, that Bella should have only a certain allowance till

-      she was beyond a marriageable age.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;And, pray, what age is that?&rdquo; asked Darley, laughing.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I should not have cared to ask Aunt Mary that question. The reason was

-      that Lawrence was the son of an old sweetheart of Aunt Mary's, who had

-      jilted her without any mercy; and so the sins of the father were visited

-      upon the head of the son. 'Marry Lawrence, my dear,' says Aunt Mary, 'if

-      you like, but you don't have my money. Florence shall have it the day you

-      marry Lawrence Severance.'&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Darley started as if stung. &ldquo;Eh?&rdquo; he exclaimed, &ldquo;I don't understand!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Then listen. 'Oh, ho!' quoth Lawrence, when he grew up and understood the

-      story. 'So that is the way of love, is it? Well, there are more fortunes

-      than Aunt Mary's in the world.' And away went Lawrence, nothing daunted,

-      to win&mdash;what I hear he has won&mdash;double the fortune that Bella,

-      in marrying him, hands over to me.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Then you mean to say that this&mdash;money comes to you; that you are a

-      rich woman, in fact?&rdquo; Darley's tone was almost bitten.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yes!&rdquo; answered Miss Florence, gleefully, and clapping her little hands.

-      &ldquo;Aren't you glad?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Glad? I hate it!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Hate it?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yes, hate it! I was glorying in the fact that if I won you I would marry

-      a poor woman. Now&mdash;&rdquo; Darley did not finish his sentence.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You must not talk like that,&rdquo; said Miss Florence with some asperity. &ldquo;It

-      is very wrong, and it hurts me, although I know I should be pleased. But I

-      know you love me for all that. Money is a very good thing&mdash;God's gift

-      in the hands of those who use it well. There is a great deal of good that

-      we can do with Aunt Mary's money. She was very good herself to the poor,

-      despite her unnatural dislike for Lawrence Severance; and I should like

-      her to know that her mantle had fallen on worthy shoulders. You and I

-      shall use this money to a great purpose.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;But you don't know what a happy thing it has been to me, this thought of

-      winning you and proving my love by earnest work!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;And need that resolve be dissipated?&rdquo; said Miss Florence, gravely. &ldquo;You

-      shall do that. There is a great deal of work to be done.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Leonard met Darley on his return, and drew him into the light.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I have won her, Jack!&rdquo; said the younger man, grasping his friend's hand.

-      &ldquo;The sweetest and the noblest woman God ever made!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I see it in your face,&rdquo; said Leonard, huskily. Even Darley could not fail

-      to notice the change in his friend's voice. &ldquo;What is the matter, old man?&rdquo;

-       he exclaimed. &ldquo;You&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Nothing, nothing, my boy,&rdquo; Leonard answered quickly. &ldquo;But promise me one

-      thing: that you will make her a noble husband, always&mdash;always!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Then Darley understood.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Dear old Jack!&rdquo; he said tenderly. &ldquo;What a fool I have been! Can you

-      forgive me?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;There is nothing to forgive, my boy&mdash;nothing. But you must always be

-      good to her. But never get angry because another man besides yourself

-      worships your wife.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0048" id="linkimage-0048"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0265.jpg" alt="0265 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0265.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0049" id="linkimage-0049"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0266.jpg" alt="0266 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0266.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div style="height: 4em;">

-      <br /><br /><br /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h2>

-      THE BEAR 'S-HEAD BROOCH, By Ernest Ingersoll

-    </h2>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0050" id="linkimage-0050"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0267.jpg" alt="0267 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0267.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0051" id="linkimage-0051"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0268.jpg" alt="0268 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0268.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0052" id="linkimage-0052"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="figleft" style="width:20%;">

-      <img src="images/9268.jpg" alt="9268 " width="100%" /><br /><a

-      href="images/9268.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </div>

-    <p>

-      HE story I am about to narrate happened this way, Thomas Burke and I were

-      old schoolmates. But his course and mine had been widely divergent for a

-      score of years, so that by the time he had brought his family back to New

-      York, and our acquaintance could be renewed, many untold things had

-      happened to each.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I knew Tom had won his fortune by mining in the Rocky Mountains. It was

-      rumored that his accomplished wife also had wealth in her own right, but

-      Tom never had much to say in regard to his financial matters, and I did

-      not like to question him notwithstanding our intimacy. I had dined with

-      him two Christmases in succession, and now for the third time had eaten my

-      Christmas dinner at his table.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      On each of these occasions Mrs. Burke had worn at her throat a magificient

-      brooch which I had never seen at any other time, though I had met her

-      often when such an ornament would have been suitable enough. This brooch

-      was a bear's face, holding in its teeth a tiny steel key. It was a marvel

-      of delicacy in the goldsmith's art, and evidently very costly; for the

-      eyes were each a ruby, and the head was encircled with large diamonds,

-      half hidden by hairs of gold, as though they represented a collar round

-      bruin's hirsute neck.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Tom,&rdquo; I said, when Mrs. Burke had left us to ourselves after dinner, &ldquo;I

-      am very curious about that bear's head brooch your wife wears. Why do I

-      never see it except at Christmas? I am sure it has a history, and if there

-      is no secret about it I wish you would enlighten me.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said my old friend, &ldquo;that is rather a lengthy story. There is no

-      secret about it&mdash;at least none to keep from an old chum like you. As

-      for the brooch, that's only an ornament I had made some years ago; but the

-      design and the little key&mdash;which is a real key&mdash;remind Marion

-      and myself of what we call our Christmas story, because it culminated on

-      that day.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;When you and I left the old university in 1870, and you came here, and I

-      went West&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      But if I were to tell the story as he did, it would hardly be as plain to

-      you as it was to me. I must write it out.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      When Tom Burke left the university after his graduation he took the few

-      hundred dollars which were the measure of his capital and went to the

-      Rocky Mountains to seek his fortune. In the autumn of 1871 he became the

-      superintendent of the Crimson Canyon Mining Company in Southern Colorado,

-      where he found as assayer, and scientific assistant generally, a queer,

-      learned and proud old Scotchman named Corbitt. This man had been one of

-      the &ldquo;Forty-niners&rdquo; and had made a fortune which he had greatly enjoyed

-      while it lasted, and the loss of which, in some wrong-headed speculation,

-      he never ceased to deplore.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Now, a few weeks before Tom's arrival at the camp, Corbitt's home had been

-      brightened by the coming of his daughter Marion, on what he told his

-      envious acquaintances was a &ldquo;veesit,&rdquo; implying that she could not be

-      expected to make her home there.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      And truly this remote mountain settlement, inclement in climate, uncouth,

-      dusty, filled with rough men, and bountiful only in pure air and divine

-      pictures of crag and glen, icy-blue peaks and chromatic patches of stained

-      cliff above or flower meadow below&mdash;all this was anything but the

-      sort of place for a girl like her to spend her maiden days in.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Perhaps it was not quite a case of love at first sight between her and

-      Tom, but certainly the winter had not passed before each had confessed

-      that there was no one else in the world beside the other whose presence

-      much mattered in the way of happiness.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      But that seemed to be the end of it, for Corbitt gave young Burke to

-      understand most decisively that he could hope for nothing more&mdash;an

-      engagement to marry was out of the question.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Love, let us wait,&rdquo; was Marion's last word, when, on her first and last

-      tryst, she had stolen away to meet him, and he counted her kisses as a

-      miser counts his gold.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Let us wait. I care for nobody else, and nobody can marry me against my

-      will. We are young yet. Who knows what may happen? You may get money

-      enough to satisfy papa&mdash;I don't suppose he holds me at a very, very

-      high price, do you? Or I may be freer after a while to do as I wish.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      This was commonplace advice enough, but Tom saw both the good sense and

-      the pure love in it, and accepted the decree, steeling his heart against

-      the impulses of rage and revolt.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      And then, quite unexpectedly, Mr. Corbitt resigned his place and went to

-      Denver, taking his family with him. The same week the mine changed owners,

-      and Burke was superseded by a new superintendent; and so, almost at a

-      stroke, the lad lost both his sweetheart and the weapon by which he was to

-      fight for her in the business tournament of the world. However, the latter

-      evil was presently remedied, and he worked on, saving his money and

-      teasing his brain for suggestions how to make it increase faster.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      At that time the mighty range had never been very carefully prospected.

-      Men had, indeed, ascended Crimson Creek to its sources in search of the

-      deposits of quartz whence the auriferous gravels below had been enriched,

-      but they had brought back a discouraging report. Tom was not satisfied to

-      accept their conclusions. He was confident, from the geological and other

-      indications, that treasures of ore lay undiscovered among those azure

-      heights. At last, resolved to see for himself, he enlisted the help of a

-      young miner and mountaineer named Cooper, and one day late in August they

-      started.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      After passing the pillared gateways of the Canyon, and ascending for a few

-      miles the great gorge down which the creek cascaded over boulders and

-      ledges of granite and rounded fragments of trachyte and quartz, you come

-      to a noble cataract leaping into the Canyon from the left through a narrow

-      gash or depression in the wall. By climbing up the opposite slope a little

-      way, you see that this stream comes tumbling white and furious down a long

-      rugged stairway of rocky fragments before it reaches the brink, whence it

-      shoots out in the air and then falls in a thousand wreaths of dangling

-      vapor.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Cooper,&rdquo; Tom called out to his companion, who was more comrade than

-      servant, &ldquo;I guess we'll camp here. I want to examine this side gorge a

-      bit.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;It looks to me,&rdquo; remarked Tom, &ldquo;as if this had formerly been the main

-      stream, and had carried pretty much all the drainage of the valley until a

-      big landslide&mdash;and it didn't happen so very long ago either&mdash;dammed

-      the exit of the valley and changed the shape of things generally, eh?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;That's about the size of it, I guess. But, I say, ain't that smoke down

-      there by the lake?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0053" id="linkimage-0053"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0276.jpg" alt="0276 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0276.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I reckon we've got time enough to go and see. It ain't far down there,

-      and the moon'll show us the way back if we get late.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Noting their bearings, they began the descent toward the lake and

-      presently came out upon its border, where the walking was easier.

-      Advancing cautiously half a mile or thereabout, they again caught sight of

-      the smoke through the bushes&mdash;a feeble column rising from some embers

-      before a small shelter of boughs and bark that hardly deserved the name of

-      hut. A skillet, a light pick and shovel, and one or two other household

-      articles lay near by, but nothing alive appeared.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;No Injun 'bout that,&rdquo; said Cooper.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;No, Cooper; more likely a prospector.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Hallooing as they neared the hut, a lean and miserable dog rushed out and

-      greeted them with ferocious growls, whereupon they heard a weak voice

-      speaking to him, and saw a frowsy gray head and a bony hand, clutching a

-      revolver, stretched out of the opening that answered for a door.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0054" id="linkimage-0054"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0284.jpg" alt="0284 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0284.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Hello!&rdquo; Tom cried. &ldquo;Call off your dog; we're friends.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Then a tousled, ragged, gaunt-limbed figure, emaciated with hunger, wild

-      eyed with fever, dragged itself from the sheltering brush, gave one long

-      look at the stalwart strangers, and fell back on the stony ground in a

-      dead faint, while the dog, rushing forward with the courage of a starved

-      wolf, planted himself before the corpse-like form and defied them to touch

-      it.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      They fought off the animal, brought water from the lake and revived the

-      man. A dram from Tom's flask stimulated him, whereupon he sat up and began

-      to chatter incoherently, thanks to God and wild exclamations about some

-      hidden treasure mingling with such plaintive cries as &ldquo;She'll be all right

-      now!&rdquo; and &ldquo;Mebbe she'll forgive her old dad!&rdquo; making up the whole of his

-      ceaseless talk.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;He's clean crazy!&rdquo; was Cooper's opinion.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; Tom assented, &ldquo;but it is fever and famine. Couldn't you shoot a

-      rabbit or something? Then I could make him a stew. Try it.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      But all that Cooper could quickly find to kill were three mountain jays,

-      which were converted into a broth, thickened with the dust of flour that

-      remained. A little tea was also found in the sick man's pack, and this was

-      brewed for him. Then Cooper volunteered to go back to their own camp and

-      bring over more food and Tom's little medicine case.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The next day he fetched the rest of their luggage, and in the afternoon

-      shot a deer. So they encamped here beside the lake and nursed the old

-      fellow until his fever subsided and the delirium had ceased to a great

-      extent. Then by easy stages, partly carrying him on a stretcher, partly

-      assisting him to walk, they managed to take him back to Crimson Camp and

-      gave him a bed in Tom's cabin.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      But the strain of this effort had been too much for the aged and feeble

-      frame. No sooner was the excitement of the march at an end than a relapse

-      occurred, and for a fortnight the old man hovered on the edge of death;

-      skill and care seemed to conquer, however, and one morning peace came to

-      the tortured brain and the old prospector began to get better.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Now at last he was awake, with seeming intelligence in his eyes, asking

-      where he was and who were the people around him. Tom explained and then

-      questioned him in return.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      But the mystery was not to be so easily solved. The invalid could not tell

-      his name, nor where he had come from. He said he had been prospecting all

-      his life&mdash;where&mdash;how long&mdash;all particulars were a blank.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I can't remember anything but the cache&mdash;nothing else at all,&rdquo; he

-      declared, gazing piteously into one face after another.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Tell us about that, then.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      He felt in his bosom and drew out the little pouch. It was opened for him

-      and its contents&mdash;a fragment of quartz heavy with gold and a tiny

-      steel key&mdash;taken out.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Ah! What do you call that?&rdquo; he inquired eagerly, pointing to the yellow

-      metal.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Gold.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yes? Well, there is lots of that in my cache.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Where is your cache?&rdquo; inquired Tom.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The old fellow dropped his head and tried to think, but couldn't clutch

-      any of the motes of memory dodging like phantasmagoria before his eyes.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I can't tell,&rdquo; he confessed, with infinite sadness. &ldquo;I reckon I'd know

-      the place if I saw it. And I've forgotten everything before that, but it

-      seems to me that I fell a great ways, and lay for years and years with an

-      awful pain in my head. Then all at once my head got better and I opened my

-      eyes&mdash;mebbe it was a dream&mdash;and there I and the dog were in a

-      little camp 'way up a big gulch. I knew the place, but I felt kind o' weak

-      and dizzy-like and 'lowed I'd make a cache o' all my stuff, and go down to

-      Del Nort' and see a doctor. So I dug a hole beside a big rock that had a

-      peculiar mark on it, and put into it most o' my grub and some papers, and

-      a lot o' that yellow stuff&mdash;what d'ye call it?&mdash;and reckoned

-      they'd be safe till I come back in three or four weeks. I can remember all

-      about the cache and my camp there, and my leavin' it and climbin' down a

-      devilish steep place, and there I stop and can't remember nothin' since.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      This was absolutely all that was left of the man's memory, and, though he

-      was now quite sane, he had to be taught the names and uses of many of the

-      commonest objects. Moreover, he seemed to grow weaker instead of stronger,

-      and after a few days the physician announced that his patient's end was

-      near. When the old fellow was told this he called Tom to his bedside, and

-      said to him:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Pardner, you've done the square thing by me, and I want you to have half

-      the traps in that cache after I've passed in my checks, and give the other

-      half to&mdash;to&mdash;oh, God! Now I can't remember!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Then his face brightened again.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh, the letters'll tell! Read the letters and give her half of it. I'll

-      sign a paper if you'll write it.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      So a will was made, and the dying man made a mark before witness, in lieu

-      of the signature he had lost the power to make, and the next day he died.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The miners generally believed the stranger's story of this cache to be a

-      figment of his disordered imagination, and Tom himself might have yielded

-      to this theory had not the physician assured him that there was a fair

-      chance of its truth.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      So Tom preserved the will, the quartz and the key, hoping that chance

-      might sometime disclose the treasure trove if there were any; and a few

-      days later he and young Cooper started a second time on their prospecting

-      tour. This time they took a burro with them, and so were able to carry a

-      small tent and outfit for a fortnight's trip.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      By active marching they reached the lake that night, finding it slow work

-      to get their unwilling donkey up the steep rocks at the fall, by a

-      circuitous trail and aided by some actual lifting of the little beast.

-      They researched the hut, but found nothing new. The dog, now fat and

-      strong, and a devoted friend, accompanied them and betrayed most excitedly

-      his recognition of the bivouac. Next morning they made their way up to the

-      head of the lake, where the breadth of the gulch and the appearance of

-      things confirmed Tom's previous surmise that this was originally the main

-      channel of drainage.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      If this were true they ought to get evidence of drift gold; and several

-      days were spent in panning the gravels (nowhere, however, of great

-      extent), with most encouraging results. A few miles above the lake they

-      found the gulch forked into two ravines divided by a rocky spur. They

-      chose the right-hand one and lost three days in fruitless exploration of

-      its bed and walls. Shep (the dog was a collie and they had rechristened

-      him) did not display anything like the joy he had shown in the advance up

-      the main stream, and when they finally returned to the forks they could

-      not but notice his renewed spirits. The dog was again all eagerness, and

-      intensely delighted when on the following morning they started up the

-      left-hand gulch.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;It looks as though his master had come down that way, doesn't it?&rdquo; said

-      Tom. &ldquo;Maybe he could guide us right back to where he came from; but he'll

-      have to wait a while, for I like the look of that crag up there,&rdquo;

-       directing his companion's attention to the crest of the wall on the left,

-      &ldquo;and I want to examine it. You'd better stay here and try to get a

-      blacktail. Bacon three times a day is getting monotonous.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Don't you think you'd better take the Winchester?&rdquo; said Cooper. (They had

-      brought but one rifle.) &ldquo;You might hit up against a grizzly or a mountain

-      lion. I heard one of 'em screeching last night.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;No; I can't lug a gun. I've got my six shooter, and I'll risk it. Come

-      on, Shep! It's noon now, and we won't get back to supper if we don't

-      hurry.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The dog raced gleefully ahead as the young man strode up the gulch,

-      scanning its rugged slope in search of a convenient place to begin the

-      ascent, and presently, as though cognizant of the plan, the dog turned

-      aside and with loud barking and much tail wagging invited attention to a

-      dry watercourse that offered a sort of path.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I guess you're right, Shep,&rdquo; Tom assented, and set his face to the sturdy

-      climb.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Half way up a ledge, covered with cedars and Spanish bayonet, made the

-      ascent really arduous for a little way, and here the dog, which as usual

-      was some rods in advance, suddenly began barking furiously, and capering

-      around a small object.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Chipmunk, I reckon,&rdquo; said Tom to himself, as he scrambled on, short of

-      breath; but when Shep came sliding down, holding in his mouth a battered

-      old felt hat, curiosity changed to amazement. The dog growled at first,

-      and refused to give up his prize, but after a little coaxing yielded it

-      into Tom's hands.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The old prospector had had no hat when found. Could this be it? It did not

-      seem to have lain out of doors long, and the dog would hardly show so much

-      interest unless his sharp nose had recognized it as something belonging to

-      his former inaster. Closely scrutinizing, Tom found tucked into the lining

-      a slip of sweat-stained paper with a name upon it&mdash;

-    </p>

-    <h3>

-      ARTHUR F. PIERSON,

-    </h3>

-    <p>

-      Tucsony Arizona.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Stuffing the hat into his pocket Tom scrambled on, thinking out the

-      meaning of the incident; and now he began to notice in this steeper place

-      that some of the boulders had been misplaced, and here and there was a

-      broken branch, as, if someone had descended very hastily or clumsily.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;If that crazy old man came down here, and perhaps caught a second bad

-      fall, I don't wonder he was used up by the time he reached the lake&rdquo; was

-      Tom's mental ejaculation, as he toiled up the acclivity and at last,

-      panting and leg weary, gained a narrow grassy level at the foot of a crag

-      &ldquo;spiked with firs,&rdquo; which had been conspicuous from the valley not only by

-      its height and castellated battlements, but because a colossal X was

-      formed on its face by two broad veins of quartz crossing each other.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      With his eyes fixed upon the rocky wall he walked along in the face of a

-      stiff breeze, until he noticed a pinkish streak upon the dark cliff,

-      betokening the outcrop of another vein, and turned aside to climb a pile

-      of fallen fragments at the foot of the crag to reach it. These fragments

-      were overgrown with low, dense shrubbery. He ducked his head and was

-      pushing into them, when suddenly he saw a huge brown body rise almost into

-      his face, heard the tremendous growl of a grizzly, and amid a crash of

-      bushes and dislodged stones felt himself hurled backward.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Clutching instinctively at one of the shrubs as he fell, he whirled under

-      its hiding foliage, and the vicious stroke of the bear's paw came down

-      upon his leg instead of his head, while the released branches snapped

-      upward into the face of the brute, which, as much surprised as its victim,

-      paused in its onslaught to collect its wits. An instant later Shep dashed

-      up, and at the bear's hindquarters. Bruin spasmodically sank his claws

-      deeper into Tom's thigh, but turned his head and shoulders with a terrific

-      ursine oath at this new and most palpable enemy; and ten seconds afterward

-      Tom's revolver, its muzzle pressed close underneath the bear's ear, had

-      emptied half an ounce of lead into its brain. A blood-freezing death

-      squeal tore the air, and the ponderous carcass sank down, stone dead, upon

-      Tom's body and upon the dwarfed spruce which covered it. It pinned him to

-      the ground with an almost insupportable weight. Perhaps if the animal

-      alone had lain upon him he might have wriggled out; but the brute's

-      carcass also held down the tough and firmly-rooted tree, and the rocks on

-      each side formed a sort of trough. Turn and strain as he would Tom could

-      not free himself from the burden which threatened to smother him.

-      Moreover, the convulsive death throe had forcibly tightened the grip of

-      the claws in the side of his knee, which felt as if in some horrible

-      torturing machine of the Inquisition; and had he not been able at last to

-      reach that paw with his left hand and pull it away from the wound he would

-      have died under the agony.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Then, as he felt the blood running hot and copious down his leg, a new

-      fear chilled his heart. Might he not bleed to death? There seemed no end

-      to the hemorrhage, and what hope had he of succor? He thought of firing

-      signals of distress, but could not reach the pistol, which had been

-      knocked out of his hand. He spoke to the dog, which was barking and

-      worrying at the bear's hind leg, and Shep came and licked his face and

-      sniffed at his blood-soaked trousers. Then, as if even he realized how

-      hopeless was the situation, he sat on his haunches and howled until Tom,

-      hearing him less and less distinctly, imagined himself a boulder slowly

-      but musically crunching to powder under the resistless advance of a

-      glacier, and lost consciousness as the cold-blue dream-ice closed over his

-      dust.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      By and by he awoke. It was dark, and something cold and soft was blowing

-      against his face. He moved and felt the shaggy fur and the horrible pain

-      in his leg and in his right arm, which was confined in a twisted position.

-      Then he remembered, but forgot again.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      A second time he awoke. It was still dark, but a strange pallor permeated

-      the air, and all around him was a mist of white.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      It was snowing fast. He closed his left hand and grasped a whole fistful

-      of flakes. The body of the bear was a mound of white&mdash;like a new-made

-      grave over him, he dismally thought. The snow had drifted under and about

-      his shoulders. Its chill struck the wound in his thigh, which throbbed as

-      though hit with pointed hammers, keeping time to the pulsations of his

-      heart; but, thank God! he no longer felt that horrible warm trickling down

-      his leg. He had been preserved from bleeding to freeze to death. How long

-      before that would happen; or, if it were not cold enough for that, how

-      long before the snow would drift clear over him and cut off the little

-      breath which that ponderous, inert, dead-cold beast on his chest prevented

-      from entering his lungs? Where was the dog? He called feebly: &ldquo;Shep! Shep!

-      Hi-i-i, Sh-e-p!&rdquo; But no moist nose or rough tongue responded. He tried to

-      whistle, but his parched mouth refused. Heavens, how thirsty! He stretched

-      out his hand and gathered the snow within his reach. Then he closed his

-      eyes and dreamed that two giants were pulling him asunder, and that a

-      third was pouring molten lead down his throat.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      But it was only Bill Cooper trying to make him drink whiskey.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      He understood it after a little and realized that he ought to swallow.

-      Then life came back, and with the knowledge that he was no longer alone on

-      the cold, remote, relentless mountain top, but that Cooper was lifting

-      away the bear, and that Shep was wild with sympathy and gladness because

-      he had been able to bring help, came courage and forbearance of his

-      suffering. In the morning new strength came with the sunshine. The snow

-      rapidly melted. Cooper got breakfast and Tom rebandaged his knee.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;These gashes won't amount to much, unless the claws were poisoned. You'll

-      have to make me a crutch, and give me a couple of days to get rid of the

-      stiffness, but then I'll be all right.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;How did you and the bear get into this scrimmage, anyhow? You surely

-      didn't go hunting him with that there six shooter?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Not I. The wind was blowing hard toward me, so he didn't smell nor hear

-      me, and I ran right on to him. Shep was not there to warn me, but if he

-      hadn't come back just as he did, or if I hadn't been able to get at my

-      revolver, Old Ephraim would ha' used me up in about a minute.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I ain't a betting on one pistol shot against a grizzly, anyhow.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Of course, the chances were about one in a thousand, but I wasn't going

-      to die without a shot. I suppose the bullet struck the lower part of the

-      brain.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Bill, who had been probing its track. &ldquo;Tore it all to pieces.

-      But what was the bear after in that brush?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Give it up&mdash;ants, likely. You know&mdash;Great Scott! What's that

-      dog got now?&rdquo; Shep was coming out of the bushes, dragging a package

-      wrapped in buckskin which was almost too heavy for him to handle. Cooper

-      went and took it from him and brought it to the fire. It was a sort of

-      pouch firmly tied with a thong. Running a knife under this the bundle fell

-      apart, and a double handful of flakes and nuggets of gold and quartz

-      rolled out.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;The cache!&rdquo; Tom shouted, comprehending instantly the meaning of this.

-      &ldquo;The bear was tearing it to pieces!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      It was true. His strong feet had displaced the loosely-heaped stones, and

-      a half-devoured side of bacon lay close by where the animal had been

-      disturbed.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Evidently the marauder had just begun his work. There remained in the

-      cache two more pouches of gold&mdash;perhaps a quart of the metal pieces

-      in all, more or less pure, for all of it had been dug out of a vein with

-      hammer and knife point, none of the fragments showing the water-worn

-      roundness characteristic of placer gold. Then there were a small quantity

-      of provisions, some ammunition and a small rosewood box with an ornamental

-      brass lock having a remarkably small and irregular keyhole.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      From an inner pocket of his purse Tom drew the odd little key the dead

-      prospector had given him. It fitted into the hole and easily turned the

-      lock. The cover sprang open, revealing a package of letters. He lifted

-      them out, but did not pause to read them.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Then came an envelope containing a patent to ranch lands in Arizona,

-      certificates of stock in Mexican and other mines that Burke had never

-      heard of, and a commission as lieutenant of artillery in the Confederate

-      army. All these documents were made out to &ldquo;Arthur F. Pierson,&rdquo;

-       establishing the fact that the lost hat was really that worn by the old

-      man, as his dog had recognized.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      At the bottom of the box, however, Tom found what interested him most&mdash;a

-      formal &ldquo;claim&rdquo; and description of the lode whence the gold had been taken,

-      and how to reach it from this cache. It was written in pencil, in a very

-      shaky hand, on two or three soiled leaves torn from a memorandum book and

-      eked out with one of the covers.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Then Tom took up the letters. Most of them were recent and of business

-      importance, but several were old and worn with much handling. One of these

-      latter was from a lawyer in San Francisco, acknowledging funds &ldquo;sent for

-      the support of your infant daughter,&rdquo; describing her health and growth,

-      and the care taken of her &ldquo;at the convent&rdquo;&mdash;all in curt business

-      phrase, but precious to the father's heart. Then there were two or three

-      small letters, printed and scratched in a childish hand, to &ldquo;dear, dear

-      papa,&rdquo; and signed &ldquo;Your little Polly.&rdquo; One of these spoke of Sister Agatha

-      and Sister Theresa, showing that it was written while the child was still

-      in the convent; but the others, a little later, prattled about a new home

-      with &ldquo;my new papa and mamma,&rdquo; but gave no clew to name or place.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;This baby girl&mdash;she must be a young woman now, if she lives,&rdquo; Tom

-      mused&mdash;&ldquo;is evidently the person the poor old chap wanted me to divide

-      with. It ought not to be difficult to trace her from San Francisco, I

-      suppose the convent Sisters knew where she went to when they gave her up.

-      But, hello! here's a picture.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      It was an old-fashioned daguerrotype of a handsome woman of perhaps

-      four-and-twenty, in bridal finery, whose face seemed to him to have

-      something familiar in its expression. But no name or date was to be found,

-      and with the natural conclusion that this was probably Pierson's wife he

-      puzzled a moment more over the pretty face, and then put it away.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      After a few days, when Burke was able to travel, the prospector's

-      memorandum and their mountain craft together led them almost directly to

-      the coveted gold vein, which ran across a shoulder of the mountain at the

-      head of the gulch, like an obscure trail, finally disappearing under a

-      great talus at the foot of a line of snowcapped crags.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Tracing it along, they presently came upon the old man's claim marks. The

-      stakes were lettered pathetically with the name of the old man's choosing&mdash;&ldquo;Polly's

-      Hope.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Adjoining the &ldquo;Hope&rdquo; Tom staked out one claim for himself and another for

-      his sweetheart, intending to do the proper assessment work on it himself

-      if Corbitt couldn't or wouldn't; and Cooper used up most of what remained

-      of the visible outcrop in a claim for himself.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Returning to town their claims were registered in the Crimson Mineral

-      District, and their report sent a flight of gold hunters in hot haste to

-      the scene.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Tom Burke, after selling everything he could send to market to turn into

-      ready money, departed to Denver, carrying with him documents and specimens

-      of the gold quartz to support his assertions.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Keen men fêted and flattered him, buttonholing him at every corner with

-      whispered advice, and many proffered schemes. But he was indifferent to it

-      all, and anxious as yet only to hear what Marion should say.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Not a word had he heard from her directly during all the weeks of her

-      absence, but indirectly he knew she had been a star in the local society.

-      He had even to hunt out where she lived, finding it in a cottage near

-      where the stately court house now stands.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      He went there, after tea, with a fastbeating heart. Had she forgotten, or

-      withdrawn or been turned away by hardhearted parents and friends? He

-      suspected everything and everybody, yet could give no reasons. And how

-      absurd these fears looked to him&mdash;how <i>foolish!</i>&mdash;when,

-      sitting in the little parlor, hand in hand, they talked over the past, and

-      she confided that the same doubts had worried her now and then&mdash;&ldquo;most

-      of all, Tom, dear, when I hear of this wonderful success of yours.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Bless me! I had forgotten it. By your side all else&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Here the door opened&mdash;not too abruptly&mdash;and Mr. Corbitt came in,

-      grimly hospitable and glad, no doubt for his own sake, to see this young

-      fellow who was still true to his daughter; while Mrs. Corbitt was more

-      openly cordial, as became her.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;An' what's this we're hearin' aboot your new mines? They're sayin' down

-      town that you've struck a regular bonanza, an'll soon be worth your

-      meellions. But I told 'em 'Hoot! I'd heard the like o' that before!'&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      So Tom recounted briefly the story of the prospector's death and his will;

-      still more briefly his adventure with the grizzly, and how it led to the

-      curious disclosure of the cache. Then, with no little dramatic force,

-      seeing how interested was his audience, he described the hunt for the vein

-      and the finding it, produced his specimens and handed to Miss Marion a

-      mass of almost solid gold embedded in its matrix.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I can't promise you,&rdquo; he said, as she tried to thank him with her eyes

-      and a timid touch of her fingers, &ldquo;that the whole ledge will equal that,

-      but it is a genuine sample from near the surface.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Wonderful! Wonderful!&rdquo; the old Scotchman ejaculated, with gleaming eyes,

-      as Tom went on to show how regular and secure was the title to this

-      possession. &ldquo;But did ye no find out the name of the poor vagabone?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh, yes. Didn't I mention it? His name was Arthur Pierson.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Corbitt and his wife both started from their seats.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Man, did I hear ye aright?&mdash;<i>Arthur F. Pierson?</i>&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;That was the name exactly. I can show it to you on the letters.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;An' he charged ye to give the half of all ye found to his daughter

-      Polly?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yes, and I mean to try to find her.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;<i>There she sits!</i>&rdquo; cried Mother Corbitt excitedly, before her

-      cautious husband, could say &ldquo;Hush!&rdquo;&mdash;pointing at Marion, who gazed

-      from one to the other, too much amazed to feel grieved yet at this

-      stunning announcement. &ldquo;We took the lassie when she was a wee bairn, and

-      she would never ha' known she wasn't ours really till maybe we were dead

-      and gone. Her feyther was a cankert, fashious body, but her mother was

-      guid and bonnie (I knew her well in the auld country) and she died when

-      Mary&mdash;that's you, my dearie&mdash;was born.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Is this her picture?&rdquo; Tom asked, showing the daguerrotype.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Aye, that it is. Puir Jennie!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The rest is soon told. A company of capitalists was formed to work the

-      four consolidated claims on the new vein, under the name of the Hope

-      Mining Company.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0055" id="linkimage-0055"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0293.jpg" alt="0293 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0293.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      All the next season was spent by Tom Burke in developing the property and

-      erecting machinery. Corbitt was there too, much thawed by the sun of

-      prosperity, but his wife and daughter remained in Denver. In the autumn,

-      however, the ladies went East, and as the holidays approached Tom and

-      Corbitt followed them to New York, where, on Christmas eve, my hero and

-      heroine were married quietly in a little church up town; and his gift to

-      her was the brooch which had attracted my attention and whose significance

-      was now plain.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0056" id="linkimage-0056"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0293.jpg" alt="0293 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0293.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0057" id="linkimage-0057"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0294.jpg" alt="0294 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0294.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div style="height: 4em;">

-      <br /><br /><br /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h2>

-      MISS GWYNNE'S BURGLAR, By Violet Etynge Mitchell

-    </h2>

-    <p class="pfirst">

-      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>N the heart of

-      Wales, nestling between two dark frowning mountains, and lulled to drowsy

-      indifference of the big outside world by the murmurs of the not far

-      distant sea, stands the little village of Cod-y-glyn.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Just outside the village, on the main road stands&mdash;or did stand ten

-      years ago&mdash;an old stone house, in the middle of a large garden, which

-      was surrounded on all sides by a high wall, also of stone. It was the

-      pride of the owner, Miss Gwynne.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      One night, in the early spring of the year, there was to be a wedding at

-      Cod-y-Glyn&mdash;a wedding in humble life, but anticipated with great glee

-      by the invited guests, among whom were Miss Gwynne's servants, the

-      coachman and his wife (who was also cook) and Ylva, their daughter,

-      employed as a maid-of-all-work.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Knowing the disappointment it would be to them if they were denied the

-      pleasure of attending the wedding, she had declined the coachman's offer

-      to remain with her, allowing his wife and daughter to go, and laughingly

-      assured him that with her father's gun for company she feared nothing.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Miss Gwynne retired at an early hour, having locked up the house.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      She lay for some time gazing through the window at the twinkling stars,

-      lost in quiet retrospection.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I will let Miss Gwynne tell the rest of the story in her own way,

-      repeating as well as I can from memory the words as I heard them from her

-      lips ten years ago.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I cannot tell if I dozed or not, but I was conscious of the moon shining

-      dimly through the clouds, and I wondered how long I had lain there.

-      Reaching out for my watch, which lay on the table, I was horrified to feel

-      my wrist grasped and held by a firm hand.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      To say I was frightened would be less correct than to say I was astounded,

-      for I have always been a woman of steady nerve, and the present occasion

-      called for its use.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The moon had retired behind a heavy curtain of clouds, and the room was in

-      complete darkness, but from the drapery at my bedside issued a voice, and

-      at the same time the python-like grasp on my wrist relaxed.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I beg to apologize, madam,&rdquo; said this voice; &ldquo;I have chosen a bungling

-      manner of awakening you&mdash;foreign to my custom. Pardon me, and do not

-      be alarmed. I merely wish to relieve you of any superfluous silver,

-      jewelry or bank notes you do not absolutely need. But as the vandalism of

-      breaking locks is out of my line, I will request you to arise and show me

-      where such things are kept.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      By the time he had finished this speech I was myself again.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;I'll get up and show you; but, as it is embarrassing

-      to dress in your presence, will you step out into the hall and close the

-      door while I put on my clothing?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      There was a soft rustling of the curtains at the bedside, and the sound of

-      footsteps on the carpet, and immediately afterward the door closed.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Five minutes, madam, is all I can give you,&rdquo; remarked the burglar, as he

-      disappeared.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      It took me (after lighting the candle) two minutes to slip on a warm

-      skirt, and a blue flannel wrapper over it; then, sticking my feet into a

-      pair of down slippers, I had still time to snatch a roll of bills

-      amounting to one hundred pounds, and pin them deftly to the lining of the

-      canopy above my four-post bed.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Then throwing open the door I stood on the sill facing my visitor, and

-      threw the glare of the lighted candle full upon him, as he lolled in a

-      careless, easy attitude against the bannisters.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I had been prepared for a burglar&mdash;but I had looked for one attired

-      according to the traditions of my ancestors. But here was a gentlemanly,

-      mild-featured individual, such as I should have expected to find filling

-      the position of a professor of Latin&mdash;perhaps of theology&mdash;in

-      Oxford University.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      There was no appearance of a jimmy, or tools of any kind. Evidently here

-      was a type of criminal with which history was unacquainted.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Madam!&rdquo; he exclaimed, bowing with the grace of a French courtier, &ldquo;you

-      are punctuality itself. And how charming!&mdash;no hysterics&mdash;no

-      distressing scenes. Allow me.&rdquo; He took the candle from my hand, and

-      holding it aloft preceded me down the great oaken stairs, talking fluently

-      all the while, but pausing at every other step to glance over his shoulder

-      at me with coquettish politeness.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I wish to assure you,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;that I am no ordinary house-breaker.

-      Burglary is with me a <i>profession</i>, though not the one (I confess)

-      chosen for me by my parents. I saw, at an early age, that I must either

-      descend to the level of the burglar, or raise him to the level of an

-      artist. Behold, my dear lady, the result.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      He stood at the foot of the stairs and looked up at me.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Shall we proceed to the diningroom?&rdquo; he asked airily; &ldquo;and, as I wish to

-      give you no unnecessary trouble, let me say that I do not dabble in <i>plated</i>

-      spoons; nothing but solid silver.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      I opened the old mahogany sideboard, in which Griffiths had, for years,

-      placed the family heirlooms at night, and beheld my gentlemanly burglar

-      stow them, one after another, in a capacious felt sack, which he carried

-      in his hand.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Charming!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;I am a connoisseur, I assure you, and I know silver

-      from plate. These articles are really worth the risk of the enterprise.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      You ask me if I was not alarmed. No, I was <i>not</i>. Personal violence

-      was not in his professional line, unless opposed. I summoned all my

-      energies to outwit him. I thought much and said little, for I had no

-      intention of allowing him to carry off my mother's silver.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      After having rifled all the rooms of the most valuable articles, he

-      returned to the dining-room.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      On the table the remains of supper still stood, consisting of a fowl,

-      hardly touched, some delicately cut bread and butter, cake, and a glass

-      jar containing some fancy crackers.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I will make myself entirely at home,&rdquo; he remarked, sitting down to the

-      table, and helping himself to a wing of the chicken.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Really,&rdquo; he proceeded, &ldquo;I have thoroughly enjoyed this evening. Not only

-      have I met a most charming lady, but I have been able to prove to her that

-      the terms gentleman and burglar may be synonomous.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      He now began on the cake. I pushed the cracker jar toward him. &ldquo;Try them,&rdquo;

-       I observed.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Still smiling indulgently, and talking, he took out one of the crackers

-      and began to nibble on it. It was <i>very dry</i>.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I rose, and in an absent-minded manner placed on the table the remains of

-      a bottle of rare old Burgundy, which had been opened the day before.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Now, really,&rdquo; he prattled, &ldquo;I'm a very harmless man five months out of

-      six&mdash;I never steal unless other means fail, or a tailor's bill comes

-      due. I'm a respectable citizen and&mdash;a church member in good standing

-      when I'm not on one of my professional tours. I took up burglary more as a

-      resource than from necessity. Candidly speaking, now, <i>am</i> I a

-      ruffian?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0058" id="linkimage-0058"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0302.jpg" alt="0302 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0302.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;No!&rdquo; I replied, looking directly at him. &ldquo;On the contrary, you are a very

-      fine-looking man.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      A glow of vanity spread over his face. I poured out a glass of the

-      Burgundy and pushed it toward him.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;England to Wales!&rdquo; he cried with gallantry. &ldquo;I don't generally drink,&rdquo; he

-      added, &ldquo;but these crackers make me thirsty.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;If I could only find a wife suited to my tastes,&rdquo; he mused, &ldquo;such a woman

-      as <i>you</i> are, by George! I'd give up aesthetic burglary and settle

-      down to quiet domestic bliss.&rdquo; He looked questioningly at me. &ldquo;If&rdquo;&mdash;he

-      hesitated&mdash;&ldquo;you could be sure I would abandon my profession&mdash;would

-      you&mdash;do you think you could&mdash;condone my past and&mdash;marry

-      me?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;That is a matter for consideration,&rdquo; I replied.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      He helped himself to another cracker.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Your proposal is so startlingly unique,&rdquo; I continued, &ldquo;to marry one's

-      burglar! Really it is quite a joke.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Isn't it?&rdquo; he chuckled, evidently enjoying the idea of the oddity. &ldquo;We

-      are kindred spirits!&rdquo; he exclaimed, convivially, but was interrupted by a

-      violent fit of coughing.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Seizing the bottle of Burgundy, he drained the only drop or two left.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I think, maybe, there's another bottle down in the cellar,&rdquo; I cried,

-      artlessly. &ldquo;I'll go down and see&mdash;I feel thirsty myself.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;We will descend together,&rdquo; exclaimed my burglar, gallantly taking the

-      candle from my hand and following me to the door leading to the cellar

-      steps.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      We descended the steps chatting pleasantly&mdash;he discoursing on

-      matrimony, I answering rather vaguely, but measuring the distance to the

-      wine bins by my eye. They were at the far end of the cellar, and were five

-      in number, each large enough to hold a quarter of a ton of coal. Before

-      the furthest one I paused.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0059" id="linkimage-0059"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0300.jpg" alt="0300 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0300.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Here,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;is the brand we are looking for.&rdquo; I raised the heavy lid

-      and looked in. &ldquo;I will hold the candle,&rdquo; I observed; &ldquo;will you get the

-      bottle? I can hardly reach it.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      He handed me the candle and bent low over the bin. Ha! ha! Quicker than a

-      flash of lightning I tipped up his heels (he was easily overbalanced), and

-      into the bin he fell headlong. Down came the heavy lid. But there was no

-      padlock on it. I must hurry! Blowing out the candle, I ran, for I knew the

-      way, straight to the cellar steps and up them&mdash;like a cat. Then with

-      a locked door between myself and my burglar, I could breathe.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I heard the man kicking about down below, for of course he got out of the

-      bin at once. But our cellar is a labyrinth. Seizing father's old gun from

-      its resting-place in the hall, I sat down near the door at the head of the

-      stairs, waiting for the worst.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The door was fairly strong&mdash;that I knew; but he was a powerful man.

-      So I dragged a heavy table from the sitting-room and placed it against it.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Suddenly I became conscious that he had found his way to the stairs and

-      was rapidly approaching the door, which was all that lay between me and

-      his revengeful fury.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Bracing myself against the opposite wall, I raised the old gun, and,

-      deliberately aiming it, waited.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      He began by pounding with both fists on the door, but, not receiving any

-      answer, he tried threats. An instinct seemed to tell him I would remain on

-      guard.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      His language, I must confess, while threatening, was not abusive. It was,

-      in fact, incredibly elegant for a burglar, and strictly grammatical.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      All at once there came a crash, followed by the creaking of heavy timber,

-      and the door fell. Down he came on top of it, sprawling at my feet on the

-      floor. I raised my gun and fired.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Hit him?&rdquo; I interrupted.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied Miss Gwynne; &ldquo;here in the wall of the dining-room the bullet

-      lodged, and is still there.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The next thing I was conscious of was Mrs. Griffiths bending over me, and

-      her husband's voice exclaiming:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;He'd never have escaped if we had not left that door open when we came

-      in. You see we got home just in time to hear you fire the gun, and as we

-      ran in he ran out. Drat him!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      I raised myself on my elbow and looked eagerly about.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;He had no time to carry off a thing,&rdquo; said Mrs. Griffiths.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I would like to set my eyes on him,&rdquo; I remarked, when Miss Gwynne had

-      concluded her story. &ldquo;You are a distinguished woman and are&mdash;I

-      believe&mdash;the very first one who ever received an offer of marriage

-      from a burglar.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The lady smiled. &ldquo;Do you not remember reading about the capture of a

-      notorious bank robber, several years ago? The case created quite a

-      sensation, owing partly to the difficulty in tracing the thief, who was

-      clever enough to puzzle the most expert detectives and evade the police,

-      and also to the respectability of his position. No one could believe him

-      guilty.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Indeed I do remember it,&rdquo; I answered. &ldquo;Not only that, but I <i>saw</i>

-      the man after he was in prison. I happened to be going through Chester

-      Jail at the time and J&mdash;&mdash;&mdash; was pointed out to me. He was

-      quite distinguished looking. In fact, I did not believe him guilty.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Nor would I,&rdquo; said Miss Gwynne, &ldquo;if I had not known.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You mean,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;that he&mdash;&mdash;

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I mean that you saw <i>my burglar</i>.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0060" id="linkimage-0060"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:15%;">

-      <img src="images/5305.jpg" alt="5305 " width="100%" /><br /><a

-      href="images/5305.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </div>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0061" id="linkimage-0061"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0306.jpg" alt="0306 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0306.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0062" id="linkimage-0062"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0307.jpg" alt="0307 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0307.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0063" id="linkimage-0063"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0308.jpg" alt="0308 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0308.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div style="height: 4em;">

-      <br /><br /><br /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h2>

-      THE LADY IN ROUGE, By W. E. P. French

-    </h2>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0064" id="linkimage-0064"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="figleft" style="width:20%;">

-      <img src="images/9308.jpg" alt="9308 " width="100%" /><br /><a

-      href="images/9308.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </div>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Pretty woman! That's just like a man. Pretty chromo, you mean, Tom.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; in a hearty, pleasant voice, &ldquo;maybe you are the better judge; but

-      I don't believe she's 'made up,' and if I wasn't the most henpecked man on

-      earth I'd say she was the loveliest creature I ever saw. As for her hair,

-      it's&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Blondined! And so utterly impossible in color that it couldn't for a

-      moment fool anybody but a man,&rdquo; interrupted the first speaker, with

-      deliciously spiteful emphasis on the very common noun man.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Eyebrows stencilled, eyelashes darkened; lips, ears and finger tips

-      tinged with carmine&mdash;don't you know? Complexion enamel, vinegar rouge

-      and brunette powder&mdash;pshaw! The way the men go on about her makes me

-      positively ill. If you fall in love with her, Harry, you are no brother of

-      mine. I don't care to be sister-in-law to a lithograph in <i>fast</i>

-      colors.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You make me curious to see her, Nell, dear. By Jove, she must be either a

-      monster or a paragon! Have the spirit of a man, Tom, and tell me which.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Don't try to extract any more information from me, old man; my teeth are

-      positively chattering with terror. You can decide for yourself this

-      evening, if your ferocious sister will allow you to leave your room. By

-      the way,&rdquo; with an amused laugh, &ldquo;what do you suppose Nell and the rest of

-      her charitable sex up here have dubbed the poor girl? 'The lady in

-      rouge!'&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yes, and she ought to have a sign, 'Paint, don't touch.' I believe she is

-      a divorcée or a widow, and I know she's thirty in spite of her sickening

-      affectation of youth.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh, come, Nell, you are absolutely vicious. She is not a day over twenty,

-      and she has the prettiest name I ever heard, Violante Solander; accent on

-      the second syllable, Harry, not on the first, to rhyme with Hollander, as

-      the bride of my bosom insists on pronouncing it.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Sounds like a combination of Spanish and Scandinavian,&rdquo; the younger man

-      answers.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;It is,&rdquo; returns his brother-in-law. &ldquo;I have met her father several times

-      at the Cosmos Club in Washington. He is a Norwegian, a wonderfully

-      handsome man, of the purest blonde type, with charming old-time manners

-      and a voice as deep and sonorous as a fine bell. Jack Kendricks, who knows

-      him quite well, told me something of his history. As a young man he

-      traveled pretty much all over the world, and in South America met and

-      married Miss Viola's mother. She was an Ecuadorean of Spanish descent, and

-      so beautiful that she was called, in reference to her name, which was the

-      same as her daughter's, 'The Violet of Quito.' It is really a case of the

-      Arctic zone wedding the Equator.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Or of a walrus committing matrimony with a llama. No wonder she is

-      neither fish, flesh nor fowl,&rdquo; added madame, with a malicious emphasis

-      that made both men laugh.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      This conversation floated up to me as I sat smoking my cigar on the

-      forward edge of the hurricane deck of the little steamer that carried

-      passengers from the railroad station at the foot of a beautiful and

-      well-known lake in the Adirondacks to the village at the head of it,

-      whither we were all bound.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The party of three had crossed from the other side of the boat and Were

-      leaning against the guards immediately under me. Later on I came to know

-      them all well. The lady was a delightful little bundle of inconsistencies,

-      sharp of tongue, quick of temper and jealous of all that belonged to her,

-      but as generous as an Arab, very warm hearted, perfectly fearless and

-      honest and a loyal friend when won. She was born Miss Eleanor Van Zandt, a

-      family with a tree and traditions, pride, possessions and position; but

-      the fact that she belonged in the top layer of the Four Hundred did not

-      prevent her, some ten years before, refusing a scion of the English

-      nobility (a very wealthy one, too, if you'll believe me), to her mother's

-      Infinite disgust, and giving her dimpled little hand, where she had

-      already given her heart, to big, kindly, genial Thomas Northrup, who was

-      every inch a man and a gentleman, but who was third in direct descent (and

-      gloried in it, too) from old John Northrup, saddle and harness maker, of

-      whom I have heard it told by one that saw it that he died on his sixtieth

-      birthday in the battle of Gettysburg, from some twenty bullet wounds

-      received while carrying the colors of his regiment, and that his last

-      words were: &ldquo;Don't let the Johnnies get the flag!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      I feel it to be my painful duty to relate that Madame Nell, when

-      remonstrated with by her family upon the plebeian nature of the match she

-      was about to make, flew into a violent rage and said she would gladly

-      trade a baker's dozen of her eminently high and wellborn Knickerbocker

-      ancestors for &ldquo;that grand old saddler.&rdquo; The Van Zandt crest is a lion

-      rampant gardant, and shortly after the wedding an aunt, who had declined

-      to be present, received a spirited sketch of the family beast, leaning

-      upon a musket in the position of parade rest, carrying a flag in his mouth

-      and bearing upon his lordly back a monstrous saddle, the motto in the

-      surrounding heraldic belt being, &ldquo;Don't let the Johnnies get the flag!&rdquo;

-       This cheerful device was accompanied by a very deferential and

-      affectionate note from the bride, asking her aunt if she did not think it

-      a pretty way of combining the Northrup family (saddle) tree with the crest

-      of the Van Zandts, or if she thought the &ldquo;dear old lion&rdquo; would appear to

-      better advantage under a saddle that would conceal him entirely from the

-      gaze of the vulgar herd.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The old lady declined to receive Mrs. Northrup from that time until the

-      day of her death, about four years later, but when her will was opened it

-      was found that she had left $200,000 to her niece, Eleanor Van Zandt, &ldquo;as

-      a mark of respect for her truth, courage and <i>artistic ability</i>,&rdquo; and

-      $10,000 for a monument &ldquo;to that gallant soldier and true gentleman, John

-      Northrup, who died on the field of Gettysburg in the defense of his

-      country's flag.&rdquo; Nell designed the monument, and every Decoration Day she

-      puts a saddle made of flowers on the old lady's grave. But to my tale.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Harry Van Zandt, at the time of which I write, was about twenty-six, tall,

-      broad shouldered, athletic, brown as to eyes, hair, skin and pointed

-      beard, an engineer and architect by profession, an advanced and liberal

-      thinker for so young a man, full of high spirits, though with a depth and

-      earnestness of purpose very refreshing in these days when selfish

-      indifference is the rule, and altogether a manly, honorable, self reliant

-      and energetic young fellow. He had charming manners, reverenced all women,

-      rich or poor, proud or humble, and treated old people with an affectionate

-      deference that won him many friends.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The steamer had changed her course to the left rather sharply, heading for

-      her wharf, when a Long Lake boat, with a woman at the sculls and a young

-      man holding the tiller ropes, crossed our bow and floated by within

-      fifteen feet of us. I did not need the quick, &ldquo;There she is! Look, Harry!&rdquo;

-       from Mr. Northrup to know that it was Miss Solander. She had turned her

-      head slightly toward them to bow, and the setting sun shone squarely in

-      her face, making the wonderful amber hair seem a nimbus of golden light

-      against the dark background of her huge Gainsborough hat.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      A more perfectly, harmoniously, radiantly beautiful girl I have never

-      seen. Her coloring was simply marvelous, and I inclined to Mrs. Northrup's

-      opinion that it must be artificial. It is impossible to give an adequate

-      description of her&mdash;the wonderful child-woman. A face of rounded and

-      exquisite contours, the skin of that warmest, richest, brunette type that

-      is almost dusky; cheeks that had the soft, tender, velvety bloom of a

-      sun-kissed peach; a charming mouth, scarlet as a flower, ripe, luscious,

-      sensitive, ready to curve with sweet, swift laughter or to droop with

-      grief. Her eyes, in the glimpse I had of her, I took to be black or a very

-      dark brown, but later I found they were of that rare deep blue that

-      becomes violet by an artificial light, and, indeed, owing to the length

-      and thickness of the dark lashes, it was not easy at any time to determine

-      their exact color, much less shade. Well, she was more nearly perfect than

-      any other human thing I ever hope to see.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br />

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      From her gold-flax curls' most marvelous shine,

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent20">

-      Down to her lithe and delicate feet,

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent15">

-      There was not a curve nor a waving line

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent20">

-      But moved in a harmony firm and sweet.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br />

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      As she passed from view I looked down at the trio below me. Mrs. Northrup

-      was regarding her brother curiously, and I don't think either she or I was

-      at all surprised when he turned, his face aglow with enthusiasm, and said:

-      &ldquo;What a lovely girl!&rdquo; Then, with quick change of tone, &ldquo;Who is that man

-      with her?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Lovely as a Prang,&rdquo; remarked my lady, dryly. &ldquo;The man is your hated

-      rival, of whom you are already madly jealous. He is young, beautiful and

-      rich, dances divinely, speaks <i>real</i> English and has very nearly a

-      tablespoonful of brains&mdash;not that he needs such a preponderance of

-      brain, for he has enough money to make a social success of a jibbering

-      idiot. His name is Francis Floyd-Jones, but we speak of him affectionately

-      as 'Fluggeon,' and those that know him best sometimes lovingly refer to

-      him as 'Balaam's Ass'&mdash;but you'll like him, Harry.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Van Zandt's reply I did not hear, as I discreetly moved away; but I heard

-      both men laugh, and I joined them heartily when at a safe distance.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      When we landed I found we were all bound for the same hotel, a capital

-      one, named for and kept by one of a famous hotel-keeping family. The

-      Northrups' little girl, a madcap child of six, was on the lawn waiting the

-      return of her parents and the arrival of her uncle, of whom she was

-      evidently very fond, although she abandoned him speedily in order to hug

-      and kiss his superb Irish setter, Blarney, who licked the small imp's face

-      calmly and appeared in his grave dog's way genuinely glad to see her.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Ethel, as I found out in a day or two, had taken one of those intense

-      fancies that children do occasionally to almost entire strangers to &ldquo;the

-      lady in rouge,&rdquo; and would escape to her whenever chance permitted. Poor

-      Mrs. Northrup! Her ranks were deserters to the enemy. Her husband openly

-      admired the gorgeously-tinted girl, her child simply worshipped her, her

-      brother had palpably fallen in love at first sight, and, when we came out

-      from dinner, it was found that Blarney had dumbly sworn allegiance to the

-      violet of two zones and could with difficulty be induced to leave her. The

-      dog's infatuation was put to-practical service by his master during the

-      next few weeks, for that astute young gentleman, when unable to discover

-      the whereabouts of his idol by peering and prowling, would take one of

-      Blarney's silky ears in his hand and whisper, &ldquo;Go, find her, boy,&rdquo; which

-      the clever animal promptly proceeded to do, usually successfully, though

-      often the search would receive a check on the edge of the lake and be

-      resumed after a run of a mile on the island.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Madame Nell and I soon discovered that we had a host of common friends in

-      New York and Washington, and that an uncle on her mother's side (poor Dick

-      Whitney, who was lost on the <i>Ville de Havre</i>) had been a classmate

-      of mine at Harvard forty odd years before. These kindly young people were

-      as good and affectionate to me as though I had been a relative, and the

-      heart of a lonely old man went out to them gratefully and lovingly.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      By the way, I am tempted to repeat a compliment that I overheard toward

-      the end of the summer, because it was the pleasantest and heartiest I ever

-      had paid to me, or rather about me. Charge it to the garrulity of age or

-      simple conceit, but here it is:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I came up behind them one dark night on the piazza, just as Mrs. Northrop

-      turned to her husband and said: &ldquo;Do you know, Tom, dear, I think Dr. Zobel

-      is the very nicest old man I ever knew; he has the head of a sage and the

-      fresh, pure heart of a little child.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0065" id="linkimage-0065"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0316.jpg" alt="0316 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0316.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      There was a hop that first evening in the large drawing room of the hotel,

-      and a little while before the music began I wandered in to find three or

-      four small groups talking and laughing, among them Van Zandt and his

-      sister. She made room for me on the sofa, and said I should be her

-      attendant cavalier, as she did not intend to dance. We chatted a bit and

-      then madame began a running commentary on the people as they entered.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;The Robinsons&mdash;papa, mamma and daughter. Papa looketh upon the wine

-      when it is red. Mamma is a devout Catholic. Daughter openly defies both

-      parents and, I am convinced, hath a devil. I have ventured to rename them

-      'Rum, Romanism and Rebellion.'&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What De Quincy would call 'an overt act of alliteration,' Nell,&rdquo; said Van

-      Zandt, and added: &ldquo;Who is the imposing-looking old girl leading the small,

-      meek man?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Where? Oh! of course. The lion and the lamb. Mrs. Colter is literary,

-      writes things, reads Browning understanding (happy woman!), quotes Greek

-      to people that never harmed her, and herds the lamb, who never has any

-      capers in his sauce, and who is, I am told, her third matrimonial

-      venture.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;A fulfillness of prophecy,&rdquo; murmured Harry, &ldquo;'And the lion and the lamb

-      shall lie down together.'&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Harry, you are incorrigible. The young man of peculiarly unwholesome

-      appearance who has just sneaked in is, I am morally certain, Uriah Heep,

-      though he says his name is Penrose. That [as a handsome old lady of large

-      proportions came into the room] is Miss Eldridge. She is very nice, but is

-      omnipresent, so we call her 'The Almighty,' Her escort is Mr. Hinton; he

-      is the biggest, jolliest and&mdash;except my Tom&mdash;the bestnatured man

-      here. Everyone calls him 'Jumbo' or 'Billy' Look out for him, Buz; he is

-      another rival and determined to have the chromo at any price. There she is

-      with 'Buttons' in tow, and the disconsolate 'Wafer' vainly endeavoring to

-      console himself with his divinity's aunt.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The young gentlemen were aptly named. The first, a handsome young West

-      Pointer on furlough, in all the glory of cadet gray and a multitude of

-      bell buttons; the other, a pleasant-faced fellow, surprisingly tall and

-      thin. Nell had introduced Van Zandt and me to Miss Solander and her aunt

-      shortly after dinner, and I had had a very pleasant chat with the stately,

-      whitehaired old lady, who was so proud and fond of her exquisite niece.

-      She was Mr. Solander's sister and the widow of Captain Dupont of the

-      French Navy.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Several friends of Mrs. Northrup joined her, and Van Zandt excused himself

-      and went to make one of the little group of men around Miss Solander,

-      followed by a parting injunction from his sister to remember that benzine

-      would remove paint spots if applied while they were fresh.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Beautiful as this flower-faced girl was at all times, by lamp light and in

-      evening dress she was lovely beyond all power of words to express, and as

-      I came to know her I found that her beauty was not alone in her superb

-      coloring, in the perfect lines of her face and figure or in her exuberant

-      health, but was in her life; for she was&mdash;and is&mdash;that rare,

-      sweet thing, a womanly woman, brave, strong, gentle, generous, pure of

-      heart and clean of thought, a lover of truth, a hater of meanness, with a

-      mind broadened by travel and burnished by attrition; and she carried,

-      moreover, a cloak of charity of such wide and ample fold that it fell

-      lovingly over even the follies and frailties of those weaker ones of her

-      own sex and was proof against the arrows of envy.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      With old people and children she was a great favorite; the men were her

-      enthusiastic admirers, and a good half dozen of them were helplessly,

-      hopelessly, over head and ears in love with her; but a number of the young

-      married women and girls professed strong disapproval of her, on similar

-      grounds to those outlined by Mrs. Northrup on the steamer, though I had my

-      private suspicions that, in some cases at least, they were a trifle

-      jealous of the attention she received from the men, who, as is generally

-      the case at summer resorts, were not overabundant. Mrs. Northrup's dislike

-      was an honest one, for she firmly believed the girl was artificial, and

-      having carefully avoided an intimacy knew but little of the lovely nature

-      and bright mind that no one was better fitted to appreciated than she.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Besides, Madame Nell was a born matchmaker and wanted her adored brother

-      to marry her particular friend and crony, Miss Carrie Belmont, a

-      brighteyed, keen-witted, merry little soul, who took nothing seriously

-      except medicine and had about as much fixedness of purpose as a month-old

-      kitten. To a man like Van Zandt, who needed both the curb and spur of a

-      mentality as strong and earnest as his own, she would have been about as

-      valuable a helpmeet as was poor little Dora to David Copperfield. But Nell

-      was fond of the pretty, clever little creature, felt sure (as our mothers

-      and sisters, God bless 'em! always do) that her brother was thoroughly

-      incapable of picking out the right kind of a wife, and weeks before he

-      came had perceived in Miss Solander's marvelous loveliness a dangerous and

-      powerful factor in the personal equations she wished to make equal to each

-      other, so that by the transposition of matrimony they should become one.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Of course this knowledge came to me gradually; but even that first

-      evening, as Van Zandt and Miss Solander passed near us in the waltz, I

-      could see that he was wonderfully taken with his fair partner. For the

-      next few days he was more or less the victim of some little sisterly traps

-      that were set with great tact and amused Northrup and me immensely. Then

-      my young gentleman escaped and made great running, distancing &ldquo;Buttons,&rdquo;

-       &ldquo;The Wafer,&rdquo; &ldquo;Balaam's Ass,&rdquo; and the rest of what Nell called the &ldquo;fry,&rdquo;

-       and crowding Hinton closely for what each felt was his life's race for a

-      prize that might be for neither of them. They were a nice, manly, generous

-      pair of rivals, and I never saw either take an unfair advantage of the

-      other. I remember one day I was fishing, when they both rushed down to

-      their boats and started for the island at racing stroke. Just as they were

-      abreast of me Van Zandt, who was leading, broke a rowlock, and Hinton

-      forged ahead; but the moment he saw what had occurred he backed water,

-      tossed Harry an extra rowlock, waited until he had put it in, and then

-      away they went again.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Which was the favored one it was for some time difficult to decide, as the

-      girl was evidently used to a great deal of attention, and accepted it

-      gracefully and even gratefully; but yet somehow as though it was a matter

-      of course. She took many things as matters of course, by the way, among

-      others her beauty, of which she was as little vain as a flower is of its

-      color or perfume, and she labored under the pleasant delusion that men

-      liked her simply because she could dance and ride and row and shoot and

-      play tennis. There was another thing she played beside tennis, and that

-      was the banjo, and it seemed to me that her rich, flexible contralto, the

-      liquid tingle of the banjo and the Spanish words of the song she loved

-      best to sing, made a harmony as soft and sweet as the fragrant, moonlit

-      nights of her Southern home.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Until I read the generous and intelligent praise of the banjo by the

-      gifted pen of America's greatest writer of romance, I had been rather

-      diffident of expressing my liking for this charming instrument, partly

-      because it was rather impressed upon me by my parents, who were a little

-      tinged with Puritanism, that it was low, and partly because a musical

-      friend, whose opinion in matters harmonic I always deferred to, disliked

-      it; but, under the rose, I thought it delicious, and many years ago I used

-      to wander pretty often to a beer garden in New York, where an old darky

-      named Horace touched the strings with a master's hand and drew from them

-      the half sad, half merry, but wholly sweet melodies of his child-hearted

-      race, which always struck some responsive chord in me that no other music

-      ever did.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      There was a good deal of musical talent in the three hotels that summer.

-      Miss Solander, Miss Belmont, Hinton and Van Zandt were a capital quartet;

-      Mrs. Robinson was an accomplished pianist and accompanist; a young girl

-      from Troy sang Irish songs to a zither delightfully; &ldquo;Buttons&rdquo; gave us the

-      lays of West Point, and &ldquo;Balaam's Ass,&rdquo; as Mrs. Northrup expressed it,

-      &ldquo;really brayed very melodiously.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Van Zandt had one decided advantage over the other men in his wooing, for

-      he had brought his own saddle horse with him, and as Miss Solander had

-      hers, a beautiful and very fast bay mare, and was an enthusiastic

-      horsewoman, riding nearly every day, wet or dry, he frequently managed to

-      be her escort.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      They asked me to go with them one morning for a long ride through the

-      mountains, and as it was not impossible that we might see a deer or some

-      birds Miss Viola took her repeating shotgun, a pretty and close-shooting

-      little weapon with which she was very expert, and Van Zandt and I our

-      Stevens rifles.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      My mount was the best to be had in the village, and was a strong, slow

-      animal, intended by nature to grace a plow.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      It was a grand day, crisp and clear, and the first level stretch of road

-      we came to my young companions decided to have a race. Away they went,

-      Blarney and I at an increasing interval behind them. At a turn in the

-      road, about a quarter of a mile ahead, Harry's big gray was leading the

-      mare by a good length, and when they rejoined me Miss Solander

-      acknowledged her defeat handsomely, but put in a saving clause for her pet

-      by adding, &ldquo;She runs her best when frightened. I don't think even your

-      splendid gray could catch her if we saw a bear.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Harry laughed pleasantly, said he imagined his horse, too, might develop

-      unexpected speed under such circumstances, and we cantered on. A little

-      before noon we left the main road and struck into a bridle path that led

-      through a dense pine forest, utterly impassable by reason of fallen trees

-      and underbush, except on the narrow trail. We had not gone far when our

-      way seemed barred by a huge dead pine that had fallen slantingly across

-      the path and rested on a great boulder on the other side. It was too high

-      to jump near the roots without great danger and the triangular opening by

-      the rock did not look high enough for a horse to go through. However, we

-      dismounted and managed to get the animals through, though there was very

-      little room to spare.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      In about half a mile we came to the edge of the wood, and the trail

-      widened out to ten or twelve feet, bordered by a dense second growth of

-      ash. Perhaps a thousand yards farther on Blarney became excited over some

-      fresh tracks in the sandy soil, which we found were those of a deer that

-      had passed only a few minutes before, as was shown by a clump of fern that

-      was slowly straightening its crushed and bent fronds by the side of the

-      narrow road. Miss Solander and I halted, while Harry rode quietly on ahead

-      after Blarney, who was acting rather queerly, I thought, following the

-      deer track for a few feet, then pausing, with nose in the air and

-      bristling back, to snuff the air and growl. Van Zandt spoke to him, and

-      the dog went steadily and slowly forward. He was a clever beast and the

-      only setter I ever saw that could hunt all kinds of game well. Miss

-      Solander promptly emptied the magazine of her shotgun, and refilled it

-      with wire cartridges loaded with &ldquo;buck and ball.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      I was watching Van Zandt, who was a few hundred feet away, when there was

-      a crashing noise in the brush, and midway between him and us a good-sized

-      black bear stepped out on the trail. My horse made a buck jump that nearly

-      unseated me and backed half his length into the bush. Bang! Bang! went

-      Miss Viola's gun. The bear stumbled, gave a roar of pain and rage, and

-      started for us. The mare plunged wildly, wheeled about sharply and flew

-      back by the way we came. The brute I rode was paralyzed with terror and I

-      could not budge him, nor did I dare to shoot for fear of hitting Van

-      Zandt, and my position of course kept his rifle silent. But he took in the

-      situation at a glance, fired in the air, gave a yell that a panther might

-      have envied, and came toward us at a gallop.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0066" id="linkimage-0066"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0326.jpg" alt="0326 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0326.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      The bear turned to look at this new enemy, and rose promptly on his hind

-      legs to receive him. I saw the gray swerve slightly, heard a savage &ldquo;Jump,

-      &mdash;&mdash;&mdash; you!&rdquo; from Van Zandt, saw his spurs go home, and

-      then the great horse rise to the leap and skim over the bear in a splendid

-      arch. Blarney, who was just behind his master, was not so fortunate. He

-      lit fairly on the bear, and was sadly scratched and bitten before he got

-      away. Van Zandt shouted, &ldquo;I must catch her before she gets to the fallen

-      tree!&rdquo; and went by me like a whirlwind. It was not much over a mile, she

-      had a hundred yards and more the start of him, and the mare was going like

-      the wind. I fired a shot as soon as the gray passed me, and the report

-      seemed to rouse my horse, who, oblivious to spur and voice, had cowered

-      shivering in the brush, for he shook himself, snorted, took a last look at

-      the bear, which was preparing to join the procession, turned tail and

-      fled, developing speed of which I would not have believed him capable.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      It was a horrible ride, not on account of the bear, which might have been

-      a mouse for all the thought I gave it, but because there, ahead of me, in

-      that narrow road, a beautiful girl, just blossoming into splendid

-      womanhood, was rushing to an awful, ghastly death, and a few cruel yards

-      behind her the man that loved her and would so gladly have given his life

-      for hers. Oh, how my heart ached for him, and how I wished the old man

-      that was third in that terrible race might die instead of that sweet

-      child-woman! Could he overtake her? He was spurring fiercely and the gray

-      was doing his best; but though the gap between them was closing, it was

-      closing slowly&mdash;and we had entered the wood. Yes, he was surely

-      gaining now, sixty feet more and he would have her. But there was the

-      tree, and he couldn't reach her in time. I covered my eyes with my hands

-      and turned sick and faint. Then came back to me in a man's voice grown

-      shrill with agony, one word, and following it crash! crash! in rapid

-      succession, and again the sound of the hurrying hoof beats.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      I opened my eyes. Was I blinded by my tears? There were no dreadful

-      bundles under the tree. Then that word, with its fierce, imperious note of

-      command, which had conveyed no meaning to me in that first awful moment,

-      came through the porch of the outer ear, where it had lingered, into the

-      brain, and I understood&mdash;&ldquo;Jump!&rdquo; He had taken the one chance left to

-      them at the last moment, shrieked his order at her, and she had obeyed,

-      lifting her mare to a leap that looked impossible. He had followed her,

-      and they had cleared it safely, for I could see their heads over the

-      fallen trunk. I checked my horse, dismounted, led him through the opening

-      and galloped on again.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      In a few moments I had the pleasure of seeing the gray range up alongside

-      of the mare and Van Zandt seize her bridle. I joined them and found they

-      were sound in life and limb. Harry was standing by the mare's head,

-      quieting her, and somehow he had gotten possession of a little gauntleted

-      hand and was looking at the girl with a world of love in his fine eyes.

-      She was quite pale, but her face was steadfast and strong, and in it as

-      she met Van Zandt's look frankly was the dawning of something that she was

-      unaware of yet, something that, if she lived would crown her lover's life

-      with happiness &ldquo;sweet beyond compare&rdquo;&mdash;and my old heart was glad for

-      them both.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Neither Blarney nor the bear was in sight, and as I had hung on to my

-      rifle half unconsciously I proposed going back to look for the dog, but

-      they insisted on accompanying me, and Miss Solander showed her own gun in

-      its carbine holster with the flap buttoned. I tell you it took nerve for a

-      girl on a runaway horse to do that bit of work. Well, we went cautiously

-      back, Van Zandt holding a strap fastened to the mare's bridle, and I on

-      ahead. Nothing in sight until we got out of the wood and had made a slight

-      turn. Then we saw Blarney, very ragged and bloody, but with an air of

-      proud ownership, sniffing around the dead body of the bear. We had some

-      trouble in bringing up the horses, but managed it finally.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Everyone seemed to feel after that that Van Zandt would win and wear the

-      violet. Even Mrs. Northrup was preparing to bow gracefully to the

-      inevitable, when Ethel came on the scene in the rôle of &ldquo;enfante terrible&rdquo;

-       and spoke her little piece.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      It was a lovely summer afternoon. The next day, Monday, was Miss Viola's

-      twenty-first birthday; her father was to arrive by the evening boat, and

-      several of the young men had planned rowing and sailing races in her

-      honor. Mr. and Mrs. Northrup, Miss Belmont, Hinton and I were chatting in

-      a little summer house just by the edge of the lake, and a few feet away,

-      Viola, Harry and Ethel were skipping flat stones over the water. In a

-      pause in our talk, which had been of Byron, just after someone had quoted:

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br />

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent20">

-      She was his life,

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent20">

-      The ocean to the river of his thoughts,

-    </p>

-    <p class="indent20">

-      Which terminated all,

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br />

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      We were all looking at the trio outside and speculating probably upon the

-      future of two of them, when we saw Ethel seize Miss Solander's hand, look

-      up at her adoringly, and heard her say, in her childish pipes: &ldquo;You're so

-      pretty! Why does mamma called you 'the colored lady?' You're not a nigger,

-      are you?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The girl flushed painfully, but stooped, kissed the child and, looking

-      straight at Mrs. Northrup, said very gently: &ldquo;No, dear; and if mamma knew

-      me better she would not think I was colored.&rdquo; Then she turned, bowed

-      slightly and walked rapidly up the beach. Nell burst into tears, Van Zandt

-      muttered something that didn't sound like a prayer and tore after his lady

-      love. Northrup was so startled and angry that, instead of comforting his

-      wife, he gave her a little shake and exploded with: &ldquo;It's too &mdash;&mdash;-

-      &mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash; bad! A nice mess you and the brat have

-      made of things!&rdquo; Then, as the ludicrous side of the affair appealed to his

-      fun-loving nature: &ldquo;To save time, I'll spank Ethel while you roll out the

-      crust of a nice, re: &ldquo;To save time, I'll spank Ethel while you roll out

-      the crust of a nice, big humble pie.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Hinton and Miss Belmont slunk off, and I was preparing to follow them,

-      when the unhappy little woman sobbed out, &ldquo;Oh, Doctor, please, please

-      don't go! Stay and tell me what to do. Tom's so nasty&mdash;if you laugh,

-      Tom dear, I'll kill you.&rdquo; So I stayed, and while we were consulting what

-      was best to do Van Zandt came quietly into the summer house, his face and

-      tightly-closed lips ashen, and his eyes the eyes of a strong man in pain.

-      Nell rushed at him, exclaiming: &ldquo;My poor Harry, my darling brother! I am

-      so sorry; try to forgive me!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      He put her away from him with no show of anger, but very coldly, and then,

-      very evenly and in an emotionless, mechanical sort of way, he said: &ldquo;I

-      have asked Miss Solander to be my wife. She refused me. I hope you are

-      satisfied. I give you my word of honor that I will never forgive you, nor

-      speak to you, until she accepts your apology and my love&mdash;and that

-      will be never,&rdquo; he added, heavily, and half under his breath. There was no

-      doubt that he meant it and would stick to it, and his sister, who knew he

-      never broke his word, after one appealing look at him, threw herself in

-      her husband's arms and sobbed miserably. I followed the boy and took an

-      old man's privilege. He listened patiently and thanked me affectionately,

-      but it was of no use. Then I tried to find Miss Viola, and came across

-      Nell on the same quest; but no one saw her until the next afternoon.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Monday was cloudy and windy, a real gray day. The races were to begin at 3

-      o'clock, and the entire community was gathered on the shore of the lake.

-      Both Miss Solander and Van Zandt were entered, and I knew their pride

-      would make them show up. The first race was for ladies in Long Lake boats

-      over a half mile course and return, six entries, a handicap of one hundred

-      yards on Miss Solander and fifty on Mrs. Claggett. Viola beat it

-      handsomely and then rowed directly across to the island, where she would

-      have a good view of the sailing race, though I think her object was more

-      to escape the crowd.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0067" id="linkimage-0067"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0332.jpg" alt="0332 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0332.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      After an interval of a few minutes three canoes, manned by Hinton, Van

-      Zandt and another man, came up to the starter's boat.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The canoes got away together, Van Zandt to leeward. They had gone perhaps

-      a quarter of a mile when a squall from the opposite shore struck them, and

-      the canoe with the violet pennant (Harry's) went over like a flash, the

-      other two, with loose sheets, running before the wind. Mrs. Northrup

-      screamed, and so did several other women; but Van Zandt was a capital

-      swimmer, and I expected every moment to see him on the bottom of the

-      canoe.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Half a dozen men started in rowboats, but one shot out from the island and

-      fairly flew for the capsized craft. It was Viola, and we saw her, when she

-      reached her goal, stand up, shake off her outer skirts and dive. I had a

-      powerful glass, and when she came up I saw she had him and was trying to

-      reach her boat, which was drifting away. She gave that up and struggled

-      toward the canoe. They went down, and then the rescue boats hid them. It

-      seemed an eternity before two boats pulled swiftly toward us. In the first

-      was Van Zandt, a nasty cut on his head and unconscious, but breathing

-      faintly. In the next, held in the arms of poor &ldquo;Buttons,&rdquo; whose tears were

-      dropping on her lovely white face, was the sweet child-woman, all the

-      wonderful rose tints gone from lip and cheek and in its place the sad,

-      cold hue of death. There was no sign of vitality, and I was hopeless from

-      the first; but we were still working over her when the steamer came in,

-      and the next thing we knew there was a heart-broken cry and her father had

-      her in his arms.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Was it the bitter agony and yearning love in that strong man's cry that

-      called back the fleeing life, or was it the sudden jar of lifting her and

-      the fierce clasp of her father's arms that started the stilled lungs? I do

-      not know; but, physician though I am, I incline to the former solution.

-      Whatever may have been the cause there was a faint flutter in pulse and

-      breast, and we renewed our efforts. In half an hour she was breathing

-      softly and the color was coming back to her bonny face. Her father carried

-      her up to the hotel and her aunt and Mrs. Northrup got her to bed. She

-      recovered rapidly, but Van Zandt was pretty ill for about a week, and

-      positively refused to see his sister.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Well, I suppose it was officious and meddlesome in me, but one day when I

-      knew where Violante was I took Nell's hand in my arm and brought them

-      together. In a few minutes they were crying over each other in real

-      womanly fashion, and I prowled off. In about ten minutes little Nell, her

-      eyes shining with happiness, hunted me up and said, &ldquo;I want you to take me

-      to Harry.&rdquo; She showed me in her hand a beautiful and curious ring, which I

-      knew was the engagement ring of Miss Viola's mother. Harry was sitting in

-      an easy chair, with his back to the door, when we entered, and, without

-      turning his head, he asked, &ldquo;Is that you, Doctor?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      I answered him, and then Nell stole up behind him, dropped the great ruby

-      in his lap, and whispered, with a sob in her voice, &ldquo;With my dear sister

-      Violante's love.&rdquo; Harry looked at the ring stupidly for an instant, then

-      Nell came around in front of him, and he pulled her down into his arms

-      without a word. And I stole away with wet eyes and a glad heart, and told

-      the news to Tom and Carrie and that prince of good fellows, &ldquo;Jumbo&rdquo;

-       Hinton.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      That is about all. Mr. Solander gave his consent and something more

-      substantial, and two months later I went to the wedding of &ldquo;The Lady in

-      Rouge.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0068" id="linkimage-0068"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0335.jpg" alt="0335 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0335.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0069" id="linkimage-0069"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0336.jpg" alt="0336 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0336.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div style="height: 4em;">

-      <br /><br /><br /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h2>

-      THE BREAKING OF WINTER, By Patience Stapleton

-    </h2>

-    <p class="pfirst">

-      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>hat's the fust

-      funerel I've went to sence I was a gal, but that I drove to the

-      graveyard.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I dunno as that done the corp enny good.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;An' seems all to onc't I miss old Tige,&rdquo; muttered the first speaker half

-      to herself.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      It was snowing now, a fine mist sifting down on deep-drifted stone-walls

-      and hard, shining roads, and the tinkle of sleigh-bells, as a far-away

-      black line wound over the hill to the bleak graveyard, sounded musical and

-      sweet in the muffled air. Two black figures in the dazzling white

-      landscape left the traveled road and ploughed heavily along a lane leading

-      to a grove of maples, cold and naked in the winter scene.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;They say Ann Kirk left a good prop'ty,&rdquo; said the first speaker, a woman

-      of fifty, with sharp black eyes, red cheeks, few wrinkles and fewer gray

-      hairs in the black waves under her pumpkin hood. She pulled her worn fur

-      cape around her neck and took a new grasp on her shawl, pinning it tight.

-      &ldquo;Ann an' me used to take a sight of comfort driving old Tige.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The man, her companion, grunted and went sturdily ahead. He was enveloped

-      in a big overcoat, a scarf wound around his neck and a moth-eaten fur cap

-      pulled down over his ears. His blue eyes were watery from the cold, his

-      nose and chin peaked and purple, and frost clung to the short gray beard

-      about his mouth.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Who'll git the prop'ty?&rdquo; panted the woman. She held her gown up in front,

-      disclosing a pair of blue socks drawn over her shoes.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Relashuns, I s'pose.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;She was alius so savin', keepin' drip-pins for fryin', and sfellin'

-      nearly every mite of butter they made; an' I've heered the Boston

-      relashuns was extravagant. Her sister hed on a black silk to the funerel

-      to ride to the grave in; I guess they are well-to-do.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Dunno,&rdquo; gruffly.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Somehow then the woman remembered that glossy silk, and that she had never

-      had one. Then this sister's husband, how attentive he was leading his wife

-      out to the sleigh, and she had seen them walking arm-in-arm the past

-      summer, when no man in Corinth ever offered his arm to his wife unless it

-      were to a funeral and they were first mourners. &ldquo;Silas never give me his

-      arm but the fust Sunday we were merried,&rdquo; she thought; &ldquo;bein' kind to

-      wimmen wan't never the Loweirs way.&rdquo; A sharp pain in her side made her

-      catch her breath and stop a moment, but the man paid no heed to her

-      distress. At the end of a meadow on a little rise looking down a long,

-      shady lane, stood a gray old farm-house, to which age had given

-      picturesqueness and beauty, and here Maria Lowell had lived the thirty

-      years of her married life. She unlocked the door and went into the cold

-      kitchen where the fire had died down. A lean cat came purring from under

-      the table, and the old clock seemed to tick more cheerily now the mistress

-      had returned.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;A buryin' on Christmas Eve, the minister said, and how sad it were, and I

-      felt like tellin' him Ann an' me never knowed Christmas from enny other

-      day, even to vittles, for turkeys fetched better prices then, an' we sold

-      ourn.&rdquo; She went into a frozen bedroom, for Corinth folks would have

-      thought a man crazy to have a fire in a sleeping-room except in sickness;

-      she folded her shawl and cape and laid them carefully on the feather bed,

-      covered with its gay quilt, the fruit of her lonely hours. Mechanically

-      she set about getting supper, stirring the fire, putting a pan of soda

-      biscuits in to bake, and setting a dish of dried-apple sauce and a plate

-      of ginger cookies on the table. &ldquo;Berried on Chrismus Eve, but little she

-      ever thought of it, nor me, and little of it Jimmy hed here to home.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      She looked at her biscuits, slammed the oven door, glanced cautiously

-      around to see if Silas, who had gone to milk the cow, were coming; then

-      drawing her thin lips tighter, went back into the cold bedroom. With

-      ruthless hand tearing open an old wound, she unlocked a drawer in the old

-      mahogany bureau and took out something rolled in a handkerchief&mdash;only

-      a tiny vase, blue and gilt, woefully cheap, laughed at by the cultured,

-      scorned by the children of today. She held it tenderly in her cold hand

-      and brought back the memory that would never die. It was years and years

-      ago in that very room, and a little child came in holding one chubby hand

-      behind him, and he looked at her with her own bright eyes under his curly

-      hair. &ldquo;Muver, Jimmy's got a s'prise.&rdquo; She remembered she told him crossly

-      to go out of the cold room and not bother her. She remembered, too, that

-      his lip quivered, the lip that had yet the baby curve. &ldquo;It was a present,

-      muver, like the minister sed. I got candy on the tree, but you didn't git

-      nawthin', and I buyed you this with my berry money.&rdquo; The poor little vase

-      in that warm chubby hand&mdash;ay, she forgot nothing now; she told him he

-      was silly to spend good money on trash, and flung the vase aside, but that

-      grieved childish face came back always. Ah, it would never fade away, it

-      had returned for a quarter of a century. &ldquo;I never was used to young ones,&rdquo;

-       she said aloud, &ldquo;nor kindness,&rdquo; but that would not heal the wound; no

-      self-apology could. She went hurriedly to the kitchen, for Silas was

-      stamping the snow off his feet in the entry.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I got fifty dollars for old Tige,&rdquo; he said, as he poured his tea into his

-      saucer to cool; &ldquo;he was wuth it, the honest old creetur!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The little black-eyed woman did not answer; she only tightened her lips.

-      Over the mantel where the open fireplace had been bricked up, was a

-      picture in a narrow black frame, a colored print of Washington on a fine

-      white horse, and maidens strewing flowers in his pathway.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;When Tige was feelin' good,&rdquo; continued Silas, &ldquo;he'd a monstrous likeness

-      to thet hoss in the pictur, monstrous! held his hed high an' pranced; done

-      you good to see him in Bath when them hosses tried to parss him; you'd a

-      thort he was a four-year-old! chock full of pride. The hackman sed he was

-      a good 'un, but run down; I don't 'low to overfeed stock when they ain't

-      wurkin'.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Ourn has the name of bein' half starved,&rdquo; muttered the woman.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Silas looked at her in some surprise. &ldquo;I ginerelly gits good prices for

-      'em all the same.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;We ginerelly overreach every one!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Goin' to Ann's funerel hez sorter upset ye, M'ri. Lord, how old Tige

-      would cavort when Jim would ride him; throw out his heels like a colt. I

-      never told the hackman Tige was eighteen year old. I ain't over pertikler

-      in a hoss trade, like everybody else. He wun't last long I calc'late now,

-      for them hack horses is used hard, standin' out late nights in the cold

-      an'&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Was the Wilkins place sold out ter-day?&rdquo; said the woman hastily, with

-      agonizing impatience to divert his thoughts to something else.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Yes, it were,&rdquo; chuckled Silas, handing his cup for more tea, &ldquo;an' they'll

-      have ter move ter Bosting. You was ginning me for bein' mean, how'd you

-      like to be turned outer doors? Ef I do say it, there ain't no money due on

-      my prop'ty, nor never was.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Who air you savin' it fur?&rdquo; said Maria, quietly. She sat with downcast

-      eyes tapping her spoon idly on her saucer; she had eaten nothing.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Fur myself,&rdquo; he growled, pushing his chair back. He lit a pipe and began

-      to smoke, his feet at the oven door.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Outside it was quite dark, snow and night falling together in a dense

-      black pall. Over the lonely roads drifted the snow, and no footfall marred

-      it. Through drear, silent forests it sifted, sifted down, clung to cheery

-      evergreens, and clasped shining summer trees that had no thought for

-      winter woes; it was heaped high over the glazed brooks that sang, deep

-      down, songs of summer time and gladness, like happy, good old folks whose

-      hearts are ever young and joyous. Over the wide Kennebec, in the line of

-      blue the ferry-boat kept open, the flakes dropped, dropped and made no

-      blurr, like the cellar builders of temples and palaces, the rank and file,

-      the millions of good, unknown dead, unmentioned in history or the Bible.

-      The waves seething in the confined path crackled the false ice around the

-      edges, leaped upon it in miniature breakers, and swirled far underneath

-      with hoarse murmur. In the dark water something dark rose and fell with

-      the tide. Was there a human being drifting to death in the icy sea? The

-      speck made no outcry; it battled nobly with nature's mighty force. Surely

-      and slowly the high wharfs and the lights of Bath faded; nearer grew the

-      woods of Corinth, the ferry landing and the tavern-keeper's lamp.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I heered suthin' on the ferry slip,&rdquo; said a little old man in the tavern,

-      holding his hand behind his ear.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Nawthin', night's too black,&rdquo; said the tavern-keeper; &ldquo;you're alius a

-      hearin' what no one else do, Beaman.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      No star nor human eye had seen the black speck on the wild water, and no

-      hand lent it aid to land.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      In ugly silence Silas smoked his pipe, while equally still, Maria washed

-      the dishes. She stepped to throw the dish-water outside the door and then

-      she heard a sound. The night was so quiet a noise traveled miles. What was

-      it, that steady smothered thud up the lane where so seldom a stranger

-      came? Was it only the beating of her heart after all? She shut the door

-      behind her and hurried out, wrapping her wet cold hands in her apron.

-      Suddenly there came a long, joyful neigh!

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;How on airth did that critter git home?&rdquo; cried Silas, jumping to his

-      feet.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Nearer, nearer, in a grand gallop, with tense muscles and quivering limbs,

-      with upraised head and flying mane, with eager eyes, nearer, in great

-      leaps thrusting time and distance far behind, came that apparition of the

-      night.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Oh, my God!&rdquo; cried the woman wildly, &ldquo;old Tige has come home&mdash;come

-      home to this place, and there is one living thing that loves it!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The light flared out from the open door. &ldquo;How on airth did he git across

-      the river?&rdquo; said Silas, querulously. &ldquo;An' how am I goin' to git him back

-      in this weather?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      There he stood, the noble old horse that her boy had raised from a colt,

-      had ridden, had given to her when he went away. &ldquo;Mother,&rdquo; her boy had

-      said, &ldquo;be good to old Tige. If ever father wants to sell him, don't you

-      let him. I'd come back from my grave if the old horse was abused&mdash;the

-      only thing I loved, that loved me in this place I cannot call a home.

-      Remember he has been so faithful.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Ay, he had been faithful, in long, hot summer days, in wide, weary fields,

-      in breaking the stony soil for others' harvest, in bringing wood from the

-      far forest, in every way of burden and work.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      He stood quivering with cold, covered with ice, panting after his wild

-      gallop; but he was home, poor brute mind! That old farm was his home: he

-      had frolicked in its green fields as a colt, had carried a merryvoiced

-      young master, had worked and rested in that old place; he might be

-      ill-treated and starved, he did not grieve, he did not question, for it

-      was home! He could not understand why this time the old master had not

-      taken him away; never before had he been left in Bath. In his brute way he

-      reasoned he had been forgotten, and when his chance came, leaped from the

-      barn, running as horse never ran before, plunged off the wharf into the

-      black waves, swam across and galloped to his home.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;If there is a God in Heaven, that horse shall not go back!&rdquo; cried the

-      woman fiercely; &ldquo;if you take him from here again it shall be over my dead

-      body! Ay, you may well look feared; for thirty years I have frozen my

-      heart, even to my own son, and now the end's come. It needed that faithful

-      brute to teach me; it needed that one poor creature that loved me and this

-      place, to open the flood-gates. Let me pass, and I warn you to keep away

-      from me. Women go mad in this lonely, starved life. Ay, you are a man, but

-      I am stronger now than you ever were. I've been taught all my life to mind

-      men, to be driven by them, and to-night is a rising of the weak. Put me in

-      the asylum, as other wives are, but tonight my boy's horse shall be

-      treated as never before.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;But M'ri,&rdquo; he said, trembling, &ldquo;there, there now, let me git the lantern,

-      you're white as a sheet! We'll keep him if you say so; why hadn't you told

-      me afore?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      She flung him aside, lit the lantern and then ran up to an attic chamber

-      under the eaves. &ldquo;M'ri, you hain't goin' to kill yourself?&rdquo; he quavered,

-      waiting at the foot of the stairs. She was back in a moment, her arms full

-      of blankets.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What on airth!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Let me alone, Silas Lowell, these were my weddin' blankets. I've saved

-      'em thirty years in the cedar chist for this. They was too good for you

-      and me; they air too poor fur my boy's horse.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;But there's a good hoss blanket in the barn.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;The law don't give you these; it mebbe gives you me, but these is mine.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      She flung by him, and he heard the barn door rattle back. He put on his

-      coat and went miserably after her, &ldquo;M'ri, here's yer shawl, you'll git yer

-      death.&rdquo; The barn lit by the lantern revealed two astonished oxen, a

-      mild-eyed cow, a line of hens roosting on an old hayrack and Maria rubbing

-      the frozen sides of the white horse. &ldquo;Put yer shawl on, M'ri, you'll git

-      yer death.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;An' you'd lose my work, eh? Leave me, I say, I'm burning up; I never will

-      be cold till I'm dead. I can die! there is death 'lowed us poor critters,

-      an' coffins to pay fur, and grave lots.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Silas picked up a piece of flannel and began to rub the horse. In ghastly

-      quiet the two worked, the man patching the woman, and looking timorously

-      at the axe in the corner. One woman in the neighborhood, living on a

-      cross-road where no one ever came, had gone mad and jnur-dered her

-      husband, but &ldquo;M'ri&rdquo; had always been so clear-headed! Then the woman went

-      and began piling hay in the empty stall.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You ain't goin' to use thet good hay fur beddin,' be ye, M'ri?&rdquo; asked

-      Silas in pathetic anxiety.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I tell you let me be. Who has a better right to this? His labor cut it

-      and hauled it; this is a time when the laborer shall git his hire.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Silas went on rubbing, listening in painful silence to the click of the

-      lock on the grain bin, and the swish of oats being poured into a trough.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Don't give him too much, M'ri,&rdquo; he pleaded humbly, &ldquo;I don't mean ter be

-      savin', but he'll eat hisself to death.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;The first that ever did on this place,&rdquo; laughed the woman wildly.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Then standing on the milking-stool she piled the blankets on the grateful

-      horse, then led him to the stall where she stood and watched him eat. &ldquo;I

-      never see you so free 'round a hoss afore,&rdquo; said Silas; &ldquo;you used to be

-      skeered of 'em, he might kick ye.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;He wouldn't because he ain't a man,&rdquo; she answered shrilly; &ldquo;it's only men

-      that gives blows for kindness!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Land of the living!&rdquo; cried Silas, as a step sounded on the floor, and a

-      queer figure came slowly into the glare of light by the lantern, a figure

-      that had a Rembrandt effect in the shadow&mdash;an old man, lean and tall,

-      shrouded in a long coat and bearing on his back a heavy basket.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You can't be a human creetur, comin' here to-night,&rdquo; said Maria; &ldquo;mebbe

-      you're the Santy Claus Jim used to tell on as the boys told him; no man in

-      his senses would come to Sile Lowell's fur shelter.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;M'ri's upsot,&rdquo; said Silas meekly, taking the lantern with trembling hand;

-      &ldquo;I guess you've got off the road; the tavern's two mile down toward the

-      river.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You've followed the right road,&rdquo; said Maria; &ldquo;you've come at a day of

-      reck'nin'; everythin' in the house, the best, you shall have.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      She snatched the light from Silas and slammed the barn door, leaving Tige

-      contentedly champing his oats, wondering if he was still dreaming, and if

-      his wild swim had been a nightmare followed by a vision of plenty. In the

-      kitchen Maria filled the stove, lit two lamps and began making new tea.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Thet was a good strong drorin' we hed fur supper, M'ri,&rdquo; said Silas,

-      plaintively, keenly conscious of previous economies; &ldquo;'pears to me you

-      don't need no new.&rdquo; She paid no heed to him, but set the table with the

-      best dishes, the preserves&mdash;Silas noted with a groan&mdash;and then

-      with quick, skillful hand began cutting generous slices of ham.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I hope you're hungry, sir?&rdquo; she asked eagerly.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Wal, I be, marm,&rdquo; said the stranger; &ldquo;an' if it ain't no trouble, I'll

-      set this ere basket nigh the stove, there's things in it as will spile. I

-      be consederable hungry, ain't eat a bite sence yesterd'y.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Silas's face grew longer and longer; he looked at the hamper hopefully.

-      That might contain a peddler's outfit and &ldquo;M'ri&rdquo; could get paid that way.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;An' I hain't money nor nawthin' to pay fur my vittles 'less there was

-      wood-sawin' to be done.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Wood's all sawed,&rdquo; said Silas bitterly.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I wouldn't take a cent,&rdquo; went on Maria, with flushed cheeks and sparkling

-      eyes. &ldquo;Ann Kirk thet hed the name of bein' as mean as me, was berried to

-      day, and folks that keered nawthin' fur her is a goin' to hev her money

-      an' make it fly. They say 'round here no grass will ever grow on her

-      grave, fur ev'ry blade will be blarsted by the curses of the poor.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;M'ri, you a perfessed Christian!&rdquo; cried Silas.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;There's good folks unperfessed,&rdquo; interposed the stranger; &ldquo;but I dunno

-      but a near Christian is better nor a spendthrift one as fetches up at the

-      poorhouse.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Right you air!&rdquo; said Silas, almost affably feeling he had an advocate.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The stranger was tall and bony, with a thin, wrinkled face bronzed by wind

-      and weather, with a goatee and mustache of pale brown hair, and a sparse

-      growth of the same above a high bald forehead; his eyes were a faded

-      brown, too, and curiously wistful in expression. His clothing was worn and

-      poor, his hands work-hardened, and he stooped slightly. When the meal was

-      ready he drew up to the table, Maria plying him with food.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Would you rather have coffee?&rdquo; she asked.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Now you've got me, marm, but land! tea'll do.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I should think it would,&rdquo; snarled Silas; but his grumbling was silenced

-      in the grinding of the coffee mill. When the ap-appetizing odor floated

-      from the stove, Silas sniffed it, and his stomach began to yearn. &ldquo;You put

-      in a solid cup full,&rdquo; he muttered, trying to worry himself into refusing

-      it.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;We want a lot,&rdquo; laughed Maria.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Set up an' eat,&rdquo; called the stranger cheerily; &ldquo;let's make a banquet;

-      it's Chrismus Eve!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;That ham do smell powerful good,&rdquo; muttered Silas, unconsciously drawing

-      his chair up to the table, where the stranger handed him a plate and

-      passed the ham. Maria went on frying eggs, as if, thought her husband,

-      &ldquo;they warn't twenty-five cents a dozen,&rdquo; and then ran down into the

-      cellar, returning panting and good-humored with a pan of apples and a jug

-      of cider; then into the pantry, bringing a tin box out of which she took a

-      cake.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;That's pound cake, M'ri,&rdquo; cried Silas, aghast, holding his knife and fork

-      upraised in mute horror. She went on cutting thick slices, humming under

-      her breath.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Might I, marm,&rdquo; asked the stranger, pleasantly, &ldquo;put this slice of ham

-      and cake and this cup of milk aside, to eat bymeby?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;How many meals do you eat in a evening?&rdquo; growled Silas, awestruck at such

-      an appetite; &ldquo;an' I want you to know this ain't no tavern.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Do eat a bite yourself, marm,&rdquo; said the stranger, as Maria carried the

-      filled plate to the cupboard. The impudence of a tramp actually asking the

-      mistress of the house to eat her own food, thought Silas. &ldquo;We've eat our

-      supper,&rdquo; he hurled at the stranger.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I couldn't tech a mite,&rdquo; said Maria, beginning to clear up, and as he was

-      through eating, the stranger gallantly helped her while Silas smoked in

-      speechless rage.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I'm used to being handy,&rdquo; explained the tramp. &ldquo;I allus helped wife.

-      She's bin dead these twenty years, leaving me a baby girl that I brought

-      up.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;You was good to her?&rdquo; asked Maria wistfully; the stranger had such a kind

-      voice and gentle ways.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I done the best I could, marm.&rdquo; Doubting his senses, Silas saw Maria

-      bring out the haircloth rocking-chair with the bead tidy from the best

-      front room. &ldquo;Lemme carry it,&rdquo; said the tramp politely. &ldquo;Now set in't

-      yerself, marin, an' be comfurble.&rdquo; He took a wooden chair, tilted it back

-      and picked up the cat. Maria, before she sat down, unmindful of Silas's

-      bewildered stare, filled one of his pipes with his tobacco.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I know you smoke, mister,&rdquo; she smiled.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Wal, I do,&rdquo; answered the tramp, whiffing away in great comfort. &ldquo;'Pears

-      to me you're the biggest-hearted woman I ever see.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      She laughed bitterly. &ldquo;There wan't a cluser woman in Corinth than me, an'

-      folks'll tell you so. I turned my own son outer doors.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;It was part my fault, Mri, an' you hush now,&rdquo; pleaded Silas, forgiving

-      even her giving his tobacco away if she would not bring out that family

-      skeleton.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I've heered you was cluse,&rdquo; said the stranger, &ldquo;an' thet you sent Jim off

-      because he went to circuses in Bath, an' wore store clothes, an' wanted

-      wages to pay for 'em.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;All true,&rdquo; said Maria, &ldquo;an' he wanted to ride the horse, an' was mad at

-      workin' him so hard.&rdquo; She went on then, and told how the old animal had

-      come home.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;An' me thinkin' the critter was a speerit,&rdquo; said the stranger in a hushed

-      voice. &ldquo;Beat's all what a dumb brute knows!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I thought mebbe,&rdquo; went on Maria, twisting her thin fingers, &ldquo;as Jim might

-      be comin' home this time. They says things happens curious when folks is

-      goin' ter die&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Your good fur a good meny years, M'ri,&rdquo; said Silas, pitifully.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;There's folks in this wurld,&rdquo; said the stranger, his kindly face growing

-      sad and careworn since the mother's eager words, &ldquo;that ain't men enuff,

-      an' comes to charity to the end&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;That there be,&rdquo; assented Silas.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;And as can't bring up their folks comfurble, nor keep 'em well an' happy,

-      nor have a home as ain't berried under a mortgage they can't never clear

-      off.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Ay, there's lots of 'em,&rdquo; cried Silas, &ldquo;an' Mis Lowell was a twitting me

-      this very night of bein' mean.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;An' this good home, an' the fields I passed thro', an' the lane where the

-      old hoss come a gallopin' up behind me, is paid fur, no mortgage on a

-      acre?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;There never was on the Lowell prop'ty; they'll tell ye thet ennywhere,&rdquo;

-       said Silas.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;We uns in the South, where I come from,&rdquo; said the stranger, shading his

-      face with his bony hand, &ldquo;ain't never forehanded somehow. My name is

-      Dexter Brown, marm, an' I was alius misfortinat. I tell you, marm, one day

-      when my creditors come an' took the cotton off my field, thet I'd plarnted

-      and weeded and worked over in the brilin' sun, my wife says&mdash;an'

-      she'd been patient and long-sufferin'&mdash;'Dex, I'm tired out; jest you

-      bury me in a bit of ground that's paid fur, an' I'll lie in peace,' an'

-      she died thet night.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Mebbe she never knowed what it were to scrimp an' save, an' do without,

-      an never see nawthin', till all the good died in her,&rdquo; muttered Maria.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Part o' my debt was wines an' good vittles fur her, marm.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I'll warrant!&rdquo; said Maria quickly, &ldquo;an' she never wept over the graves of

-      her dead children, an' heered their father complainin' of how much their

-      sickness hed cost him. Oh, I tell you, there's them that reckons human

-      agony by dollars an' cents, an' they're wus'n murderers!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;M'ri!&rdquo; cried Silas.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Mebbe, marm, you are over-worrited ternight,&rdquo; said the stranger softly;

-      &ldquo;wimmen is all feelin', God bless 'em! an' how yer son loved ye, a tellin'

-      of yer bright eyes an' red cheeks&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      She turned to him with fierce eagerness. &ldquo;He couldn't keer fur me, I wan't

-      the kind. I don't mind me of hardly ever kissin' him. I worked him hard; I

-      was cross an' stingy. He sed to me, 'There's houses that is never homes,

-      mother.' I sneered an' blamed him for his little present.&rdquo; She ran and

-      brought the vase. &ldquo;I've kept that, Mr. Brown, over twenty years, but when

-      he give it to me, bought outer his poor little savin's, I scolded him. I

-      never let him hev the boys here to pop corn or make candy; it was waste

-      and litter. Oh, I know what he meant; this was never a home.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;But he only spoke kind of ye alius.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Did you know Jim? Been gone this ten year, an' never a word.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Silas, a queer shadow on his face, looked eagerly at Brown.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I did know him,&rdquo; slowly and cautiously&mdash;&ldquo;he was a cowboy in Texas,

-      as brave as the best.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;He could ride,&rdquo; cried Maria, &ldquo;as part of a horse, an' Tige was the dead

-      image of that Washington horse in the pictur, an' Jim used to say thet

-      girl there in the blue gown was his girl&mdash;the one with the bouquet;

-      an' I used to call him silly. I chilled all the fun he hed outer him, an'

-      broken-speerited an' white-faced he drifted away from us, as far away as

-      them in the graveyard, with the same weary look as they hed in goin'.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;An' he took keer of much as a hundred cattle,&rdquo; said Silas; &ldquo;they has thet

-      meny I've heerd, in Texas?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;They has thousands; they loses hundreds by drought&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Wanter know?&rdquo; cried Silas, his imagination refusing to grasp such awful

-      loss.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Wal, I knowed Jim, an' he got mer-ried&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Merried!&rdquo; from both the old parents. &ldquo;He did. He says, 'I wunt write the

-      home-folks till I'm well off, for mother will worrit an' blame me, an' I

-      hain't money, but Minnie an' I love each other, an' are satisfied with

-      little.'&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Minnie,&rdquo; the mother repeated. &ldquo;Was she pretty?&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Woman all over you be, to ask thet, an' she was,&rdquo; said Brown, sadly;

-      &ldquo;with dark eyes, sorter wistful, an' hair like crinkled sunshine, an' a

-      laugh like a merry child, fur trouble slipped off her shoulders like water

-      off a duck's back.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;An' they got prosperous?&rdquo; asked Silas uneasily.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;They was happy,&rdquo; said Brown with gentle dignity; &ldquo;they was alius happy,

-      but they lived under a mortgage, an' it was drift from pillar to post, an'

-      ups an' downs.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;An' they're poor now,&rdquo; muttered Silas, visions of Jim and his family to

-      support coming to him.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Hush!&rdquo; cried Maria. &ldquo;Tell me, sir, was there children? Oh, the heart

-      hunger I've had for the sound of a child's voice, the touch of baby hands.

-      You an' me grandpa and grandma, Sile! an', my God! you think of money

-      now.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Set calm,&rdquo; pleaded Brown, &ldquo;for I must hev courage to tell ye all.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;An' they sent ye to tell us they was comin'?&rdquo; asked Silas, judging of

-      their prosperity from the shabby herald.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;They asked me to come, an' I swore it. There's a queer blight as creeps

-      inter our country, which without thet might be like everlasting Paradise.

-      Ourn is a land of summer an' flowers, but up here in this ice-bound

-      region, the air is like water in runnin' brooks, it puts life an' health

-      in ye.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;There's the blight o' consumption here. We're foreordained to suffer all

-      over this airth,&rdquo; muttered the woman.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;But there it comes in waves of trouble&mdash;in awful haste&mdash;an'

-      takes all at once, an' them that's well flees away and the sick dies

-      alone. So the yellow fever come creepin' inter my home, fur Minnie was my

-      child&mdash;the daughter I'd keered fur; an' fust the baby went from her

-      arms, an' then little Silas (arter you, sir). Then Minnie sickened, an'

-      her laugh is only an echo in my heart, for she died and was berried, the

-      baby in her arms, and Jim was took next&mdash;an' he says&rdquo; (only the

-      ticking of the clock sounded now, never so loud before): &ldquo;'I want you,

-      dad,' (he called me dad) 'to go to my old home in Maine. I want you to

-      tell my father I named my dead boy for him, and I thought of his frugal,

-      saving life with pain, and yet I am proud that his name is respected as

-      that of an honest man, whose word is his bond. I'll never go up the old

-      lane again,' says Jim, 'nor see mother standing in the door with her

-      bright eyes and red cheeks that I used to think was like winter apples.

-      And the old horse, she said she'd care for, I won't see him again, nor

-      hear the bells. In this land of summer I only long for winter, and dad, if

-      I could hear those hoarse old jolly bells I'd die in peace. Queer, ain't

-      it? And I remember some rides I took mother; she wan't afraid of the colt,

-      and looked so pretty, a white hood over her dark hair. You go, dad, and

-      say I was sorry, and I'd planned to come some day prosperous and happy,

-      but it's never to be. Tell mother to think of me when she goes a Sunday

-      afternoon to the buryin'-ground, as she used to with me, and by those

-      little graves I fek her mother's heart beat for me, her living child, and

-      I knew, though she said nothing, she cared for me.' He died tell-in' me

-      this, marm, an' was berried by my girl, an' I think it was meant kind they

-      went together, for both would a pined apart. So I've come all the way from

-      Texas, trampin' for weary months, for I was poor, to give you Jim's

-      words.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Dead! Jim dead!&rdquo; cried Silas, in a queer, dazed way. &ldquo;M'ri,&rdquo; querulously,

-      &ldquo;you alius sed he was so helthy!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      She went to him and laid her hand on his bowed head.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;An' we've saved an' scrimped an' pinched fur strangers, M'ri, fur there

-      ain't no Lowell to have the prop'ty, an' I meant it all fur Jim. When he

-      was to come back he'd find he was prosperous, an' he'd think how I tried

-      to make him so.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;The Lord don't mean all dark clouds in this life,&rdquo; said the stranger.

-      &ldquo;Out of that pestilence, that never touched her with its foul breath, came

-      a child, with Minnie's face and laugh, but Jim's own eyes&mdash;a bit of

-      mother an' father.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The old people were looking at him with painful eagerness, dwelling on his

-      every word.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;It was little May; named Maria, but we called her May for she was borned

-      three year ago in that month; a tiny wee thing, an' I stood by their

-      graves an' I hardened my heart. 'They drove her father out; they sha'n't

-      crush her young life,' I said. 'I'll keep her.' But I knowed I couldn't.

-      Poverty was grinding me, and with Jim's words directin' me, I brought her

-      here.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Brought her here!&rdquo; cried the poor woman.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Ay! She's a brave little lass, an' I told her to lie quiet in the basket

-      till I told her to come out, fur mebbe you wan't kind an' would send us

-      both out, but I found your hearts ready fur her&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      With one spring Maria reached the basket and flung open the lid,

-      disclosing a tiny child wrapped in a ragged shawl, sleeping peacefully in

-      her cramped bed, but with tears on her long lashes, as if the waiting had

-      tried her brave little soul.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Jest as gritty,&rdquo; said Brown, &ldquo;an' so good to mind; poor lass!&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Maria lifted her out, and the child woke up, but did not cry at the

-      strange face that smiled on her with such pathetic eagerness. &ldquo;Oh, the

-      kitty!&rdquo; cried May. &ldquo;I had a kitty once!&rdquo; That familiar household object

-      reconciled her at once. She ate the cake eagerly and drank the milk,

-      insisting on feeding the ham to the cat.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Him looks hungry,&rdquo; she said.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;We've all been starved!&rdquo; cried Maria, clasping the child to her heart.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Such a beautiful child, with her merry eyes and laugh and her golden

-      curls, a strange blossom from a New England soil, yet part of her

-      birthright was the land of flowers and sunshine. Somehow that pathetic

-      picture of the past faded when the mother saw a blue and gilt vase in the

-      baby's hand&mdash;Jim's baby's.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;It's pitty; fank you!&rdquo; said the little creature. Then she got down to

-      show her new dress and her shoes, and made excursions into the pantry,

-      opening cupboard doors, but touching nothing, only exclaiming, &ldquo;Dear me,

-      how pitty!&rdquo; at everything. Then she came back, and at Brown's request,

-      with intense gravity, began a Spanish dance she had learned when they

-      stopped at San Antonio, from watching the Mexican senoritas. She held up

-      her little gown on one side and gravely made her steps while Dexter

-      whistled. The fire leaped up and crackled loudly, as if it would join her,

-      the cat purred, the tea-kettle sung from the back of the stove, and little

-      snowflakes, themselves hurrying, skurrying in a merry dance, clung to the

-      win dow-pane and called other little flakes to hasten and see such a

-      pretty sight. Maria watched in breathless eagerness, and Silas, carried

-      beyond himself, forgetting his scruples, cried out: &ldquo;Wal, ef that don't

-      beat all I ever see! Come here, you little chick!&rdquo; holding out his silver

-      watch.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      With a final pirouette she finished with a grave little courtesy, then ran

-      to Silas: &ldquo;Is there birdie in der?&rdquo; and he caught her up and kissed her.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      When the old lane is shady in summertime, and golden-rod and daisies crowd

-      the way, and raspberries climb the stonewall, and merry squirrels chatter

-      and mock the red-breasted robins, and bees go humming through the ordorous

-      air, there comes a big white horse that looks like Washington's in the

-      picture; and how carefully he walks and bears himself, for he brings a

-      little princess who has made the old house a home. Such a fairylike little

-      thing, who from her sunshine makes everybody bright and happy, and Silas'

-      grim old face is smiling as he leads the horse, and Maria, with her basket

-      of berries, is helped over the wall by Dexter Brown, who always says he

-      must go but never does, for they love him, and he and Silas work

-      harmoniously together. And grandma's eyes are brighter than ever and her

-      cheeks as red.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What comfortable folks they air gittin' to be,&rdquo; say the neighbors,

-      &ldquo;kinder livin', but I dunno but goin' a berryin' a hull arternoon is right

-      down shiftless.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Winter is over and forever gone from that household on the hill; the

-      coming of gracious, smiling spring in a sweet child's presence has made

-      eternal sunshine in those ice-bound hearts.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0070" id="linkimage-0070"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:15%;">

-      <img src="images/5359.jpg" alt="5359 " width="100%" /><br /><a

-      href="images/5359.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </div>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0071" id="linkimage-0071"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">

-      <img src="images/0360.jpg" alt="0360 " width="100%" /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h5>

-      <a href="images/0360.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </h5>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br />

-    </p>

-    <hr />

-    <p>

-      <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div style="height: 4em;">

-      <br /><br /><br /><br />

-    </div>

-    <h2>

-      CYNTHY'S JOE, By Clara Sprague Ross

-    </h2>

-    <p class="pfirst">

-      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> DON'T think he'll

-      be sech a fool as to p'int fer home the fust thing he does.&rdquo; The speaker,

-      a young man with a dull, coarse face and slouching air, knocked the ashes

-      from a half-smoked cigar with his little finger, which was heavily

-      ornamented with a large seal ring, and adjusted himself to a more

-      comfortable position.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I dun'no which p'int o' the compass he'd more naterally turn to,&rdquo;

-       observed another; an elderly man with a stoop in his shoulders, and a

-      sharp, thin face that with all its petty shrewdness was not without its

-      compensating feature&mdash;a large and kindly mouth. The third man in the

-      little group was slowly walking back and forth on the platform that ran

-      across the station, rolling and unrolling a small red flag which he held

-      in his hands. He turned with a contemptuous &ldquo;umph&rdquo; to the young man,

-      remarking as he did so, &ldquo;'Tain't mostly fools as goes to prison. Joe

-      Atherton prob'ly has as many friends in this section o' the kentry as some

-      who hain't been away so much.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Joe was a good little boy,&rdquo; pursued the old station-master; &ldquo;he wuz

-      allers kind to his mother. I never heard a word ag'in him till that city

-      swell came down here fer the summer and raised blazes with the boy.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;If there ain't the Squire!&rdquo; exclaimed a hitherto silent member; &ldquo;he's the

-      last man as I should jedge would come to the deepo to welcome Joe

-      Atherton.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      A stout, florid, pompous individual slowdy mounted the platform steps,

-      wiping his forehead with a flaming red silk handkerchief, which he had

-      taken from his well-worn straw hat. &ldquo;Warm afternoon, friends,&rdquo; he

-      suggested, with an air of having vastly contributed to the information of

-      the men, whose only apparent concern in life was an anxiety to find a

-      shady corner within conversational distance of each other.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      The Squire seated himself in the only chair of which the forlorn station

-      boasted; he leaned back until his head was conveniently supported, and

-      furtively glanced at a large old-fashioned watch which he drew from his

-      vest pocket.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Train's late this a'ternoon, Squar',&rdquo; said the man with the red flag. &ldquo;I

-      reckon ye'll all hev to go home without seein' the show; 'tain't no ways

-      sartin Joe'll come to-day. Parson Mayhew sed his time was up the fust week

-      in September, but there's no tellin' the day as I knows on.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      A sustained, heavy rumble sounded in the distance. Each man straightened

-      himself and turned his head to catch the first glimpse of the approaching

-      engine, With a shriek and only a just perceptible lessening of its speed,

-      the mighty train rushed by them without stopping, and was out of sight

-      before the eager watchers regained the power of speech.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Five minutes later the red flag was in its place behind the door, its

-      keeper turned the key and hastened to overtake his neighbor, who had

-      reached the highway. Hearing the hurrying footsteps behind him, the man

-      turned, saying triumphantly, &ldquo;I'm right-down, glad he didn't come.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;So be I; there's an express late this evenin' that might bring him down.

-      I shall be here if Louisy's so as I kin leave her.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Wa'al,&rdquo; returned the other, &ldquo;I shan't be over ag'in to-night, but you

-      jest tell Joe, fer me, to come right ta my house; he's welcome. Whatever

-      he done as a boy, he's atoned fer in twenty years. I remember jest how

-      white and sot his face was the day they took him away; he was only a boy

-      then, he's a man now, gray-headed most likely; the Athertons turned gray

-      early, and sorrow and sin are terrible helps to white hair.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The old man's voice faltered a little; he drew the back of his hard, brown

-      hand across his eyes. Something that neither of the men could have defined

-      prompted them to shake hands at the &ldquo;Corners&rdquo;; they did so silently, and

-      without looking up.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Joe came that night. The moon and the stars were the silent and only

-      witnesses of the convict's return. It was just as Joe had hoped it might

-      be; yet there was in the man's soul an awful sense of his loneliness and

-      isolation The eager, wistful light faded out of his large blue eyes, the

-      lines about his firm, tightly-drawn mouth deepened, the whole man took on

-      an air of sullen defiance. Nobody cared for him, why should he care? He

-      wondered if &ldquo;Uncle Aaron,&rdquo; as the boys used to call him, still kept the

-      old station and signaled the trains. Alas! it was one of &ldquo;Louisy's&rdquo; bad

-      nights; her husband could not leave her, and so Joe missed forever the

-      cordial hand old Aaron would have offered him, and the kind message he was

-      to give him, for his neighbor.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Sadly, wearily, Joe turned and walked toward the road, lying white and

-      still in the moonlight. His head dropped lower and lower upon his breast;

-      without lifting it he put out his hand, at length, and raised the latch of

-      a dilapidated gate that opened into a deep, weed-entangled yard. His heart

-      was throbbing wildly, a fierce, hot pain shot through his eyes. Could he

-      ever look up? He knew the light of the home he was seeking had gone out in

-      darkness years before. The only love in the world that would have met him

-      without question or reproach was silent forever; but here was her home&mdash;his

-      home once&mdash;the little white house with its green blinds and shady

-      porch.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      He must look up or his heart would burst. With a cry that rang loud and

-      clear on the quiet night, he fell upon his face, his fingers clutching and

-      tearing the long, coarse grass. There was no house&mdash;no home&mdash;only

-      a mass of blackened timbers, a pile of ashes, the angle of a tumbling

-      wall. Hardly knowing what he did, Joe crept into the shelter of the old

-      stone wall. With his face buried in his hands he lived over again, in one

-      short half-hour, the life he hoped he had put away when the prison doors

-      closed behind him. All through the day there had struggled in his heart a

-      faint, unreasoning faith that life might yet hold something fair for him;

-      one ray of comfort, one word of kindness, and faith would have become a

-      reality. As the man, at last lifted his pale, agonized face to the

-      glittering sky above him he uttered no word of prayer or entreaty, but

-      with the studied self-control that years of repression had taught him, he

-      rose from the ground and walked slowly out of the yard and down the

-      cheerless road again to the station. Life hereafter could mean nothing to

-      him but a silent moving-on. Whenever or wherever he became known, men

-      would shrink and turn away from him. There was no abiding-place, no home,

-      no love for him in all God's mighty world. He accepted the facts; there

-      was only one relief&mdash;somewhere, some time, a narrow bed would open

-      for him and the green sod would shelter the man and his sin till eternity.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      He hastily plucked a bit of golden-rod that nodded by the roadside; then

-      taking a small, ragged book from a pocket just over his heart, he opened

-      it and put the yellow spray between the leaves. As he did so a bit of

-      paper fluttered to the ground. Joe stooped and picked it up. It was a

-      letter he had promised to deliver from a fellow-prisoner to his mother in

-      a distant town.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Not very far away an engine whistled at a crossing. A slowly moving

-      freight and accommodation train pulled up at the depot a few moments

-      later. Joe entered the dark, ill-smelling car at the rear and turned his

-      face once more to the world.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      It was in the early twilight of the next evening that Joe found himself in

-      the hurry and confusion of a large manufacturing town. As he passed from

-      the great depot into the brilliantly lighted street, he was bewildered for

-      a moment and stood irresolute, with his hand shading his eyes. At one

-      corner of the park that lay between the station and the next street, a man

-      with a Punch-and-Judy theatre had drawn around him a crowd of men, women,

-      and children. Joe mechanically directed his steps that way, and

-      unconsciously became a part of the swaying, laughing audience.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Hold me up once more, do Mariar, I can't see nothin',&rdquo; begged a piping,

-      childish voice at Joe's knee.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I can't, Cynthy; my arms is most broke now holdin' of ye; ef you don't

-      stop teasin' I'll never take ye nowheres again,&rdquo; replied a tall, handsome

-      girl, to whom the child was clinging.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Joe bent without a word, and picking up the small, ill-shaped morsel of

-      human longing and curiosity, swung her upon his broad shoulder, where she

-      sat watching the tiny puppets and listening to their shrill cries,

-      oblivious of all else in the world. Once she looked down into the man's

-      face with her great, dark, fiery eyes and said softly, &ldquo;Oh, how good you

-      are!&rdquo; A shiver ran through Joe's frame; these were the first words that

-      had been addressed to him since he said good-bye to the warden in that

-      dreary corridor, which for this one moment had been forgotten. The little

-      girl, without turning her eyes from the dancing figures before her, put

-      one arm about Joe's neck and nestled a little closer to him. Joe could

-      have stood forever. The tall, dark girl, however, had missed Cynthy's

-      tiresome pulling at her skirts and the whining voice. She looked anxiously

-      about and called &ldquo;Cynthy! Cynthy! where are you? I'll be thankful if ever

-      I gets you back to your grandmother.&rdquo; The fretful words aroused Joe from

-      his happy reverie; he hurriedly placed the child on the pavement, and in

-      an instant was lost in the crowd.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      He set out upon his quest the following morning and had no difficulty in

-      finding the old woman he was seeking. At one of a dozen doors marking as

-      many divisions of a long, low tenement building near the river, he had

-      knocked, and the door had opened into a small, clean kitchen, where a

-      bright fire burned in a tiny stove, and a row of scarlet geraniums in pots

-      ornamented the front window. The woman who admitted him he recognized at

-      once as the mother of the man in that far-away prison, whose last

-      hold-upon love and goodness was the remembrance of the aged, wrinkled face

-      so wonderfully like his own. In a corner behind the door there stood an

-      old-fashioned trundle-bed. As Joe stepped into the room a child, perhaps

-      ten years old, started up from it, exclaiming &ldquo;That's the man, Granny; the

-      man who put me on his shoulder, when Mariar was cross. Come in! come in,

-      man,&rdquo; she urged.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;Be still, Cynthy,&rdquo; retorted the grandmother, not unkindly, as she placed

-      a chair for Joe, who was walking over to the little bed from which the

-      child was evidently not able to rise alone. Two frail hands were

-      outstretched to him, two great black eyes were raised to his full of

-      unspoken gratitude. Joe took the soiled letter from its hiding-place and

-      gave it to the woman without a word. She glanced at the scarcely legible

-      characters, and went into an adjoining room, her impassive face working

-      convulsively.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;What's the matter with Granny, was she crying? I never seen her cry

-      before,&rdquo; said Cynthy. &ldquo;Granny's had heaps o' trouble. I'm all thet's left

-      of ten children and a half-dozen grandchildren. She says I'm the poorest

-      of the lot, too, with the big bone thet's grow'd out on my back; it aches

-      orful nights, and makes my feet so tired and shaky mornin's. Granny's kind

-      o' queer; some days she just sets and looks into the fire fer hours

-      without speakin', and it's so still I kin a'most hear my heart beat; and I

-      think, and think, and never speak, neither, till Granny comes back and

-      leans over me and kisses me; then it's all right ag'in, an' Granny makes a

-      cup o' tea an' a bite o' toast and the sun comes in the winder, and I

-      forget 'bout the pain, an' go out with Mariar, when she'll take me, like I

-      did last night.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      The child's white, pinched features flushed feverishly, her solemn, dusky

-      eyes burned like coals. She had been resting her chin in her hands, and

-      gazing up into Joe's face with a fascinated intensity. She fell back

-      wearily upon the pillows as the door opened, and her grandmother returned

-      and put her hand on Joe's shoulder, saying brokenly, &ldquo;You've been very

-      kind.&rdquo; The little clock on the shelf over the kitchen table ticked

-      merrily, and the tea-kettle hummed, as if it would drown the ticking,

-      while Joe and Cynthy's grandmother discussed and planned for the future.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      It was finally settled that Joe should look for work in Danvers, and if he

-      found it, his home should be with the old woman and Cynthy. He did not try

-      to express the joy that surged over and through his heart, that rushed up

-      into his brain, until his head was one mad whirl; but with a firm, quick

-      step and a brave, calm look on his strong face, he went out to take his

-      place in the busy, struggling world&mdash;a man among men.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Two months passed; months of toil, of anxiety, sometimes of fear; but Joe

-      was so gladdened and comforted by Cynthy's childish love and confidence,

-      that, little by little, he came out of the shadow that had threatened to

-      blacken his life, into the sunshine and peace of a homely,

-      self-sacrificing existence in &ldquo;Riverside Row.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      Cynthy's ideas of heaven were very vague, and not always satisfactory,

-      even to herself, but she often wondered, since Joe came, if heaven ever

-      began here and she was not tasting some of its minor delights. Of course,

-      she did not put it in just this way; but Cynthy's heaven was a place where

-      children walked and were never tired, where above all things they wore

-      pretty clothes and had everything that was denied them on earth. Joe had

-      realized so many of the child's wild dreams, had made possible so many

-      longed-for or unattainable pleasures, had so brightened and changed her

-      weary, painful life, that to Cynthy's eyes there was always about his head

-      a halo as in the pictures of Granny's saints; goodness, kindness,

-      generosity&mdash;love, were for her spelled with three letters, and read&mdash;Joe.

-      Out of the hard-earned wages the man put into Granny's hand every Saturday

-      night, there was always a little reserved for Cynthy. Her grandmother

-      sometimes fretted or occasionally remonstrated; but Joe was firm. Alas!

-      human life, like the never-resting earth, of which it is a part, swings

-      out of the sunlight into the shadow, out of the daytime into the darkness

-      through which the moon and the stars do not always shine.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      One night, a bitter, stormy night in November, he was a little late in

-      leaving his work. He had to pass, on his way out of the building, a knot

-      of men who were talking in suppressed voices. They did not ask him to join

-      them, but the words &ldquo;prison-scab,&rdquo; &ldquo;jail-bird&rdquo;, fell on his ever-alert

-      ear. With a shudder he hurried on.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Granny was stooping over the trundle-bed in a vain attempt to quiet the

-      child, who was tossing upon it, in pain and delirium. Cynthy had slipped

-      upon a piece of ice a few days before, and now she was never free from the

-      torturing, burning pain in her back. Sometimes it was in her head, too,

-      and then with shrill, harsh cries, she begged for Joe, until Granny

-      thanked God when the factory-whistle blew and she heard the man's quick,

-      short step on the pavement. Joe warmed himself at the fire for a moment,

-      then taking Cynthy in his tired arms, he walked slowly up and down the

-      room. Through the long, dreary night he patiently carried the moaning

-      child. If he attempted, never so carefully, to lay her down, she clung to

-      him so wildly or cried so wearily that Joe could only soothe her and take

-      lip the tiresome march again. Granny, thoroughly worn out, sat sleeping in

-      her large chair. Cynthy grew more restless. Once she nearly sprang from

-      Joe's arms, screaming, &ldquo;Go way, Mariar; you're a hateful thing! I won't

-      listen; 'tain't true; Joe is good,&rdquo; and dropping back heavily, she

-      whispered, &ldquo;I love you, Joe.&rdquo; She knew, then! Joe thought his heart would

-      never throb again.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      He listened for the early morning whistles. One by one they sounded on the

-      clear, keen air, but never the one for which he waited. As soon as it was

-      light, he peered through the ice-covered window at the tall chimneys just

-      beyond the &ldquo;Row.&rdquo; They rose grim and silent, but no smoke issued from

-      them. The end had come. Joe knew a strike was on.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      Sometime in the afternoon of that day Cynthy suffered herself to be placed

-      on the small, white bed; but she was not willing Joe should leave her, and

-      was quiet only when he held her feeble hand in his close grasp. No sound

-      escaped the man's white lips. Only God and the angels watched his struggle

-      with the powers of darkness. As night came on again, Cynthy sank into a

-      heavy sleep, and Joe, released, took his hat and went out very softly.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      He stopped after a long walk at the massive doors of a &ldquo;West End&rdquo; palace.

-      He followed with downcast eyes the servant who answered his ring into a

-      small but elegant reception-room, where he was told he might wait for the

-      master of the house, the owner of the large manufactory where he was

-      employed. Into the patient ear of this man, whom he had never seen before,

-      Joe poured the story of his life. The sin, the shame, the agony of

-      despair, his salvation through Cynthy.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      &ldquo;I will call my son,&rdquo; said the sympathizing old gentleman as Joe rose to

-      go; &ldquo;he is one of Danvers' best physicians. He will go with you and see

-      what can be done for the little girl.&rdquo;

-     </p>

-    <p>

-      An hour later the two men were bending over the sick child. &ldquo;She is very

-      ill,&rdquo; said the young doctor, in reply ta Joe's mute, appealing face. &ldquo;This

-      stupor may end in death, or it may result in a sleep which will bring

-      relief. You must be brave, my friend. A few hours to-night will decide.

-      You may hope.&rdquo; Joe's weary limbs faltered beneath him. He fell upon his

-      knees breathing a wordless prayer that the child might be spared to bless

-      and comfort hi&amp; lonely, aching heart; while all unseen the Angel of

-      Life hovered over the little bed.

-    </p>

-    <p>

-      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0072" id="linkimage-0072"> </a>

-    </p>

-    <div class="fig" style="width:15%;">

-      <img src="images/5372.jpg" alt="5372 " width="100%" /><br /><a

-      href="images/5372.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>

-    </div>

-    <div style="height: 6em;">

-      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />

-    </div>

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-<pre>

-

-

-

-

-

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