9^ *Hfc fiiftHot^t
CHAPTER I. ;
^Wilmot! I say, Wilmot! lust's stop
where wa ?xe and wait till it's light.
SicAlvord's hound to hunt xis xzp m the
morning. " ^
"Come ahead. I smell smoke. There 1
must be some sort of humanity not fax
off."
"Well, in heaven's name, don't ex
plore. There never was a blacker night
?nd now that we've escaped ornament?
ing the Oregon desert with our bones
don't let's run the risk of -tumbling off
?he mountain into a canyon. "
"Come a little farther up. I hear a
child's voice, and a moment ago I surely
? saw aKght"
xney pushed on up the steep trail,
% when suddenly a child appeared before
. them encircled with a wavering light
They were neither superstitious nor
particularly reverent young men, but
v j??jr drew rein in momentary awe.
'However, they soon discovered that the
door of a rude hut, which seemed to
cross their bridle path, had been opened
by a very human little hand.- A youth
came and stood beside the child, and a
young girl looked over its head, while
ian old woman came slowly forward
from a seat by the great blazing fire. .
They made inquiry for the settle?
ment on McAIyard's ranch and found
that it was miles away. Then the old
woman asked them to "put up their
beasts and stop for the night, " and they
were glad to accept
v In -another minute the youth was
leading the way, with, a rickety lan?
tern, to a shed for the horses, and short?
ly .si ter the travelers were within the
Imt before a great crackling fire of fir
"Yo' mus' be hungry," said the old
woman? "Laroel,gitsnmmat fur'em."
They were hungry. There was no de?
nying the fact They were sorry to
make trouble, but they would be grate?
ful for a bit cf food.
"TGain't no trouble," said the grand?
mother in slow western speech, with
slow emphasis of every word. Then she
drew a fir wood table from against the
wail and began to make ready for the
meal
Laurel faxing a, kettle over the fire,
and when tibe water boiled she took a
great stick in one hand and stirred it
slowly while ?ifting through the fingers
of the other something that shone in
the firelight like dusky gold. The mix?
tore spattered and steamed and sent
forth a most savory odor. -The girl set
the kettle beside the fire and hung an?
other in its place. After a few moments
she broke some eggs into this latter.
Two or three swift errands back and
forth for the lithe young figurer and
the food was upon the table and the
chairs were in place.
Then she turned and with shy cor?
diality said: "Won't yo'set by? It be
all ready."
She had not spoken before, but there
was a chana in her gentle voice which,
by some divine magic, made the un?
couth words sound, like 'a new, sweet
tongue.
. -Craymer, now that the danger of be?
ing lost was passed, inclined to look
.upon the scene as a farce enacted for
their entertainment He looked quizzi?
cally at Wilmot, who arose and thanked
her^courteously. .?
J?he laid her hand on the better chair.
"This un is fur yo'," she said softly,
and Wilmot accepted it simply.
Craymer's nature was not large
enough to understand the attitude of,
his companion. This was a scene of
such bare poverty that he could see in
??^mot's manner nothing more than a
continuation of the farce. So he waited
in mock gravity, with neither open
smile nor open sneer upon his lips.
Thevgirl looked up in surprise. Then
she made a little motion toward the
other chair. "That thar is yourn, ' ' she
said.
Craymer sat down after an elaborate
bow, which brought an angry flash
"Thank yo*, kindly," said the youno
hostess,
into the eyes of the other. Laurel went
about and poured rich milk from a great
brown pitcher into small brown bowls
that had tiny blue and white stripes
around them Then she lifted with her
slight hands the dish that was piled
high with the steaming, golden mass
and set it near to Wilmot
"Ef yo'd jes' herpyo'rsers 'n belike's
ef yo' was t' yo'r own home," she
said, with a little appeal in her voice.
Craymer bent over his bowl and gave
Wilmot a nag with his foot
"Thank you," said tho latter grave?
ly, " We shall do so gladly. " Then, as
she stood silently by, he added: "Do
not think that you must wait upon us
Maybe we'll njot dare to eat all wc
want if some lone looks at us." He
smiled, and the shy eyes turned for an
instant toward his face with a look thai
VA
P
mr
was not a smile, but something more
rare, more like an inner irradiation.
Though of the poorest, something with
|,in had kept her from descending to
t?ieir bold, hard manner. The simple,
unconscious grace with which she,left
her guests to their own will would have
become a loftier station.
Craymer stared after her. Something
in the turn of her head as the great
wave of firelight fell npon it caught his
attention.
"Fine model for a picture," ho said,
with an awakened interest.
I Laurel felt the difference between
these and the other visitors who came
at long intervals to sit at their table.
There was something new and strange
in the look and manner of these men.
Their words were unlike any they had
heard, yes she understood the meaning.
It was like new music to one who loves
music, or like rare beauty to the eye of
an artist. She kept the echo of it in her
heart and thought of it late into the
night
The meal was nearly over when she
came and stood beside Wilmot once
more. " We ha'nt got s' much 's we'd
crier nev fur yo'," she said in her clear
voice that sounded as-if some wild bira
had taken to speaking words.
"We were two very hungry men,."
was the reply. "Nothing could be more
delicious than this rich milk and the
mush and the bread and butter. "
"Thankyo', kindly,"said the young
hostess. She turned away without look?
ing at him this time.
The child began a petulant whimper.
She took it in her arms and soothed it
to sleep. Then she carried it to a door
at the end of the room. Wilmot started
to open the door for her, but, noting the
look on his companion's face, leaned
back again in his chair. The next mo?
ment he mentally kicked himself fora
coward. . >
While she was gone the grandmother
cleared away the things and began a
slow, unaccented monologue. The
grandfather had gone to the settlement
to do some trading and would not be
back for another day. The youth and
the child had lost their mother three
years back, but their father had gone
below-the usual manner in which Ore?
gonians refer to San Francisco-and
was doing fair. He wrote ta them once
a year and sent a box of things.
Laurel didn't belong to them. Her
father died crossing the plains. The
mother was most dead, so the train left
her, with the baby and the wagon and
other belongings, at the hut
"But Laurel be growed inter a com?
fort t' ree,'' added the grandmother,
"an th' young uns take t' her mighty.
We couldn't git 'long nohow 'thout
Laurel."
"It doesn't seem safe for you, " said
Wilmot, "to live here so far from any
one else." i
"Hugh i Yes, ' * answered the old voice.
"It be perfectly safe. We don't see no
one fur moons t'gether. 'N thur beaut
no more trouble with Injins here'bouts.
Onct in awhile one comes 'long, but we
don't mind 'em. Th' gran'tber hid th'
hut 'wayup here out o' sight when him
?n me wus young folks. 'N nobody
much don't know't we be here. The
farm be th' leetle good spot o' groan
jest out thar in th' desert He lotted
out t' build a big house down thar, but
'pears like we dunno how t' tear our
sel's 'way from th' old place. I s'pose
some folks nd think it be lonesomelike
livin so by oursel's. But thar's th'
beasts. They be a heap o' comp'ny. "
The two men looked at each other.
The wind moaned out a cry of terror,
and the pleasant crackling of the fir
wood in the huge fireplace turned to a
ghastly sound. The young girl came
into the room while the grandmother
was speaking and paused just where
the flickering light touched her slight
figure. \
"Some days," she said, with a little
quiver in her voice-"some days I'm
feared when thar beaut no need to fear,
'n some days, ag'in, ' when thar be,
seems like th' fear do all go. I shook at
ev'ry noise I heer'n all day, 'n t'night
I conlan' open my mouth when I seen
you, I been that feared. "
It was an eerie figure, young, slight
and fair, standing in the wavering light
and uttering those uncouth words in
that tender, thrilling tona Craymer
shivered and drew near to the fire.
"Don't be afraid tonight," said Wil?
mot "We don't pretend to great brav?
ery, but we'll do our best to take care
of you and the grandmother and the
child."
She did not answer, though she stood
with hands locked before her until he
had finished. She. went to the youth, a
sturdy fellow, who had fallen asleep
on the skin covered lounge, and aroused
him gently. Then she drew aside some
curtains of skins and displayed a recesa
containing a bed and a tiny washstand.
"This be yo'r place," she said to the
strangers. "It be all clean ag'in th'
comp'ny's oomin. "
Then she slid a long wooden bar
through iron loops to fasten the outer
door, wound the clock and with swift
silence set the chairs at rights. Mean?
while the grandmother covered thc em?
bers with ashes. When all was done,
they each said "Good night t* yo' "
and disappeared.
The two men sat before the ash cov
ared embers until the candle burned
low. Then they aros? silently and pre?
pared for bed.
"It's the eeriest place I was ever in, "
said Craymer. "I wish the wind wonld
stop its wretch??d groans. We are in a
witch's care, and we shall oe boiled in a
caldron at niidnigb* by a spirit with
sunny eyes and serious lips. "
"It's an atmosphere of innocence and
trust, " said Wilmot. "And we are
nearer heaven than we may ever climb
again. " _
CHAPTER H.
The morning meal was over, and the
travelers, ready to mount their horses,
stood before the hut. The sky was a
delicate tint, with soft, gauzelike spray
across it The gray expanse of the Ore?
gon desert, reaching out for more than
800 miles, seemed like a dead and lim?
itless sea. A tall white mountain, like
a protecting angel, rose high in the up?
per distance.
Laurel stood a little at one side of the
group. "Good mornin, pretty clouds,"
she said. "Good mornin, ole Mount
Hood, sweet mornin to yo5 !" And she
kissee, her hands. There was wild gran
eur in her air and penetrating sweet?
ness in her voice.
"She do that ev'ry mornin an ev'ry
night," said the youth who stood ready
to pilot the two down the hill path and
into the direct trail. "Nobody can't bc
lonesome with Laurel a-talkin t' things
's ef they was a talkin too. "
Wilmot looked up at the tree above
her. The leaves were yet imprisoned in
long tinted rolls, standing out in all di?
rections from the brown limbs She
seemed the spirit of the wood-so lithe
and young. He almost felt that if she
were to call to them the green leaves
Would burst their swaddling bands and
reach down toward her.
Craymer, eager to be off, bade hurried
adieus, and, piloted by the youth, start?
ed on.
Wilmot looked in a?>\in at the simple
room which had sheltered them, took
note of the setting of each bit of rude
furnishing-the skin curtains of the re
The youth had given them the right trail
at the foot of the mountain.
cess and the wild unknown flowers in a
great brown bowl by the window. He
noted the hardy vine that clambered
over the low doorway, looked about
bini at the great mountains shading off
into misty hues, then with reverent
thought he turned once more toward the
girL /
He had never said much about divine
care in connection with himself, but it
seemed a thing not difficult to speak of
in connection with her.
"Goodby," he said, touching tho
hand she held toward him. "God keep
you. " Then as she did not speak ho
asked very gently, "You know who
God is?" '
"Yes," she said calmly. "Th' hunt?
ers swear about him. Hs' be th' bad
un."
The shock that came to Wilmot at
this unimpassioned utterance was some?
thing that he tried afterward to define
to himself. It was like a whirl that sets
one dizzy and dumb. He gave a search?
ing look into the innocent face turned
with a peaceful expression toward tho
far mountain. The words were blasphe?
my, but if blasphemy must be in the
heazt before it can pass the lips then
wha tever she might say would be more
nearly like worship. She was not learn?
ed. He knew that she could not even
read that axiom of Prudhon,'"Evil is
God, " if it were placed before her. He
was appalled by the unconscious igno?
rance. At the same time her innocent
trust in the nature about her enchanted
him.
. "Goodby," she said at last, thinking
that he waited for the word of parting.
"Thar beant nuthin that'll come from
any these t' hurt yo'." She gave a little
wave of her hand. "Yo' be safe, an th'
day'll be still till yo' git t'your place."
He turned and led his horse rapidly
down the mountain side. A sudden
shadow had fallen over everything.
"In the name of the pitying God!"
he exclaimed after long tramping.
The more he thought the deeper he
felt that it was cruel to leave her in
such a wild place and in such ignorance.
What did tho future hold for her? He^
took off his hat and brushed back his
heavy hair. A sense of oppression stifled
him He was ready to hate the day
when he had been induced to come with
an old friend to his western ranch and
the hour whtn he went out with Cray?
mer for a swift canter over the great
spaces.
Yet this had not changed the matter.
His coming did not call forth the hut
nor the living souls within it. It was
unreasonable that he should care so
much. Still he strode along rebellious
at a fate that could bring such fortune
to the fair girl he had left looking
fondly at the clouds and the mountains
and predicting no harm for him.
The grandmother would not be paid
"fur keepin on 'em,' and when the
youth had given them the right trail at
the foot of the mountain Wilmot slip?
ped a goldpiece into his hand.
"I don't know what you'll do with
it I'm sure. But you can at least keep
it to remember us by. I haven't any?
thing else with me that will do for a
i gift I wish you would take it that
way."
j " 'Bleeged!" said the sturdy yoting
fellow. His face expanded into a broad
grin as he went np the hill, tossing the
shining gold piece and catching it again
as he went out of sight. The two men
mounted their horses and rode silently
on in the direction that had been point?
ed out to them.
CHAPTER HC
Soma dr s had passed when Craymer
rode 1 . -jae rancheira late one even?
ing w?t~ water color box, block and
brushes.
"Your pony is somewhat fagged,"
said Wilmot as the Indian led it away.
"Which way did you go todaj '
"I'm not good at points of compass, "
was the evasive answer.
Just at that moment the water color
pad slipped from his hands and fell un?
der the full light from a swinging lamp
on the veranda. Wilmot caught sight
of the old hut with its picturesque sur?
roundings.
"You have been there, " he said se?
verely, notwithstanding that he had
thought over and over about going there
himself. Indeed, the memory of that
lonely place and its inhabitants had
haunted him until there were times
when he felt that he must make sure
that it was true-that there was such a
wild place, and that it held such gentle
dwellers. He had not owned that he
would assure himself that she was real?
ly safe; that the clouds and the great
white mountain had kept watch over
her by day and the desert had entrapped
any foot that would do her harm by
night
"You have been there, ' " he said again
more severely.
Craymer threw himself into a ham?
mock and waited to roll a cigarette
with his delicate fingers before he an?
swered, "'Don't get excited."
Then he lighted the trifle and watch?
ed the smoko curl slowly from his
pursed up lips.
"Yes, I went there shortly after our
impromptu visit. Party call, you know.
Devoirs to the young hostess. Don't
look so severe. She doesn't care for me.
She always asks about 'th' tall un' in a
shy way-not in the least as she would
ask you about me. She lives so among
mighty mountains that a man who
measures less than 6 feet 2 is beneath
her notice. It would be cruel for you to
go there, but it isn't so with me."
Wilmot felt his fingers tingle to lay
hold of this careless speaker. "Then
you've been there niore than once," he
affirmed, with added sternness.
Craymer nodded. "I came here to
sketch the country and the people. And '
it's worth going farther to get such a
wild young thing, to say nothing of the
other members of the family. I couldn't
do them justice in ona nor in several
visits."
Then Wilmot remembered how very
little he had seen of Craymer since the
night when they were sheltered at the
hut He had never cared for the com?
pany of this man and had been rather
glad than otherwise when day after
day had passed without his presence.
But now a fiery rage arose within him.
Craymer saw it, and being in a satanic
humor just then went into the ranchei?
ra and presently came out with a hand;
ful of sketches.
"These may interest you, " he said,
with a sardonic smile. Then, whistling
"The Little Maid of Arcady, " ho spread
out sketch after sketch done in a vivid
way, with faultless drawing and clean j
handling.
"That's the grandfather-a fine old
heathen, with dignity in the face and
figure. And that is the grandmother.
Here is the child, and here are some of
the 'beasts,' as they call them. Gothic
in style, you see, but picturesque, very.
And here is the little rhododendron
herself. f
"By the way, " he interpolated laugh?
ingly as he held the other sketches in
his hand, "such deplorable ignorance !
It seems that she's troubling her pretty
head with new and strange thoughts.
She asked me who God is; if he paints
pictures, or whether he is a man like
you. Hard on me, now, wasn't it?"
"And what did you tell her?" asked
Wilmot
"Pretended not to have heard and
gave her a picture to look at. Queer,
wasn't it?"
"Very queer," assented Wilmot
Then Craymer laid out several
sketches of the figure Wilmot remem?
bered so well-the face with its tender,
sedate mouth; the soft masses of straight,
dark hair, parted above the low fore?
head, and the trustful eyes, with that
little lift to the lower lid that comes to
one who gazes over wide distances and
that gave rare fascination to this face.
"Well," said Wilmot tentatively,
turning from one to another. Then as
the other did not speak. "What are you
going to do with all these?" he asked
in a dry tone.
"Work them up and sweep things at
the nest 'ex;' send two or three across
the pond to my old market and make
my fortune. ' '
A long pause followed. Then Wilmot
said, "Don't show them to anyone else,
but name any reasonable price and con?
sider them sold."
"Ah, so?" said Craymer, with a
knowing nod. "I thought as much.
Well, you shall have first refusal"
"And don't go there again," Wilmot
added.
"So that you can have everything
your own way when you go?"
"I have not been there since we came
away together, and I am not going."
"Yet you spend hours gazing in that
particular direction."
"You are impertinent. I asked you
not to go there for the girl's own sake.
There surely is material for sketches in
some other direction. "
"Oh, to be sur?\ Indians and sons of I
China. You've a lofty sense of honor j
though. Why, I've sold the portrait of j
my promised wife over and over again j
-sometimes as a Greek maiden, some- !
times as an Italian singing girl and
once I painted her head and shoulders
aB Love."
TO BE CONTINUED.
small sehoo .
A bright answer is pot down to tho
credit of Dr. Fitchett, brother of the ed?
itor of the Australian Review of Re?
views. He was a member of a colonial
parliament, wherein one day a certain
eccentric and elderly member named
Taylor insisted on making a speech on
education. The oration consisted of a
hyperbolical eulogy of the board of
schools in Mr. Taylor's constituency.
Dr. Fitchett interjected some jocose ex?
pression of doubt. " Why, sir, " said the
irate Taylor, turning upon him, "at
this very moment I have a school in my
eye"- "No, only one pupil, Mr. Tay?
lor!" retorted the doctor, and the ora?
tor's eloquence was drowned in laugh?
ter.-London News.
A Quaint Epitaph.
The following epitaph is over a grave
in the Caroline islands:
Sacred to Wilm. Colli?
Boat Steerer of the SHIP
SaiNT george of New BED
ford who By the Will of
Aim i tey god
was sivinliery mjurd by a
BULL WHALE
off this Hand on
18 March i860
also to
Pedro Sabbanas of G nam
4th MaTE drouwned on
the SAME Dato his
Back broken by WHALE
above
MeNTioned
Not Satisfactory.
"Our sexton doesn't like tho new
woman preacher."
"What are his objections?"
"He says she isn't strong enough to
keep the dust pounded out of the pulpit
cover. ' '-Chicago Record.
!
Johnson's
Chill and
Fever
Tonic
Cures Fever
In One Day.
Tho Evening Fan.
It isn't the thing to wear an evening
fan on a goid chain any more. It should
be worn on a string of imitation pearls,
if you cannot afford the real thing, and
few can, since the correct length for the
string is seven feet. If a wealthy woman
wears one of these ornaments, it is im?
possible td tell that the jewels are bogus,
or at least that's what the shopkeepers
say. The mock pearls are certainly per?
fect enough and pretty enough to make
the worst wounded oyster in the waters
ashamed of the pearl with which he
mends his shell. It is also the style to
wear these strings wound round and
round the neck, dog collar fashion, ei?
ther with high neck gowns or full dress
waists. The prices vary from $3.50 a
string to $25.-New York Letter.
Bees and Pigeons Race.
A curious sporting event recently
took place in Belgium. Bees and hom?
ing pigeons were released between
Hamm and Rhynern. The two towns
are an hour apart, and the bet was that
12 bees would beat 12 pigeons in mak?
ing the distance. Four drones and eight
working bees were well powdered with
flour and released at the same instant
with the pigeons at Rhynern. A drone
reached home four seconds in advance
of the first pigeon, the three other
drones and one pigeon came in neck
and neck, according to the judges, and
the eight working bees came in just a
trifle ahead of the ten pigeons.
Postale Due.
Daisy-You're cheating Uncle Sam
out of postage.
Mazie-How so?
Daisy-By sending Jack "bushels of
kisses" in that letter.
Mazie-Oh, well. Jack will put the
stamp of his approval on it !-New York
World. _
The oldest newspaper in the world is j
the Tsing Pao, or Pekin News, founded
in the year 710 A. D. The King Pan,
published in China for the last 1,000
years, must take a back seat when it
comes to a question of which is the pio
! neer sheet
Take JOHNSON'S
CHILL & FEVER
TONIC, ^.zzsd^*'
A Curio.
A great crowd had gathered to see
and to bid on the greatest curiosity in
the world. The auctioneer's catalogue
described lt truly as "the only thing of
its kind in existence," and collectors
who had come from ali parts of the
country acknowledged that it was
unique. When the auctioneer ascended
the rostrum, there was breathless si?
lence.
"It is unnecessary for meto prove
that this curiosity has no double in the
world," he began. "You all know that
another like it does not exist; that this
is the only low grade bicycle on earth.
Has any one here ever heard of a low
grade bicycle before?"
"No, no!" the shout went up.
The first bid was $500, and the bid?
ding rapidly went up to $8,000, at
which figure the bicycle was awarded
to an agent of the National museum in
Washington.-New York World.
Vivid.
"Miss Pidgie has a new spring outfit
-red hat, red gown, red gloves, red
shoes and red parasol. Did you see her?' '
"See her? I saw her with my eyes
shut "-Chicago Record.
Hood's
Cure aH liver ills, bilious- ?pw ? ? ?
ness, headache, sour stora- K~jk ? I I A
ach, indigestion, constipa- M*^ ill %S
tion. They act easily, trith- ? ? I fl %P
out pain or gripe. Sold by all druggists. 25 cents.
The only Filia to take -with Hood'* Sarsaparilla
HARB Y # CO.,
WHOLESALE BROKERS,
-AND
Cotton Storage Warehouse
PROPRIETORS.
?P-TOWH? OFFICE:
COURT HOUSE SQUARE,
1,000 Tons High Grade Am
moniated Fertilizer,
1,000 Tons Acid with Potash.
500 Tons Dissolved Bone,
500 Tons German Kainit,
400 Tons C. S. Meal,
For Sale.
We are prepared to meet
any and all prices for STAND?
ARD GOODS. Get our prices
before purchasing.
Respectfully,
HARBY & CO.
Dec. 16.
PATENTS
treats, and Trace-Marks obtained and :
: business conducted for MOD?RATE F
Fries is OPPOSITE U. S. PATENT Omet j
; can secure patent ta less tune than those!
from Washington. 1
patentable
PAMPHLET.
C.A.SNCW&CO.
OPP. PATENT OFFICE, WASHINGTON. D. C.
S
RS
ID effect Jannarv 15th, 1896
TRAINS GOING NORTH,
No. 72.?
Leave Wilsons Mill* 9 10 s m
" Jordon, 9 35 a ia
" Dari?, 9 45 a m
" Sammerton, 10 10 am
" Millard, 10 45 am
u Silver, 1110am
PacksviHe, ll 30 p m
" Tindal, ll 55 p m
" W. & S. June, 12 27 p m
Ar. Sumter, 12 30 p m
TRAINS GOING SOUTH.
Lssve Sumter,
" W.&S.Jnnc,
" Tindal.
" Packsville,
11 Si! ver,
" Millard,
" Sammerton,
Davie,
1 JordoD,
Ar. W ?leon Mill,
No. 73.?;.
2 30 p m
2 33 p m
2 50 p m
3 10 p. m
3 35 p m
3 45 p m
4 40 p a:
5 20 p m
5 50 p m
'6 30 pm
Trains between Millard and St Pani leave
Millard 10 15 a m and 3 45 p m., arriving
St. Pani 10 25 a ra and 3 55 p m. Returning
leave St. Pani 10 35 a m and 4 10 p m, and
arrive Millard 10 45 a m and 4 20 p m. Dai?
ly except Sunday.
.Daily except Sunday.
THJMAS WrLSON"
PrwisifBt
Atlantic Coastline
WILMINGTON, COLUMBIA AND AUGUS
TA RAILROAD.
CONDENSED SCHEDULE.
TRAINS GOING SOUTH.
Dated Dec. 23, 18b7.
Leave Wilmington
Leave Marion
Arrive Florence
Leave Flonocr
Arrive Surattr
Leave Sumter'
Arrive (Vlnn^hn
No.55.
P.M.
.4 0?
6 43
7 25
P.M.
*8 00
9 10
P.M.
9 13
10 30
No.35
A.M.
?3 30
44o
Nc.52.
A.M.
?9 35
10 55
No. 62 ruis through from Charleston v:6
Central R. R., leaving Charleston 7 a. m.,
Lin*? 8 28 a. m., Kantine 9 05 a. m.
TRAINS GOING NORTH.
Leave Coi a m bi?
Arrive Sumte
Leave Sumter
Arrive Ficrenci
Leave Florence
Leave Marion
Arrive Wilmington
No.54
A.M.
?7 00
8 22
A M.
8 2ft
9 3.'
A lt
10 44
1 25
No. 53
P.A?
*5 00
r 20
Nc 32.
P.*
?6 30
7 At
?i'tkiiy. risatiy except sanoay.
No. 53 ruas througb to Charleston. S. C.,
via Central R. R., arriving MstmiDg 6 58 p.
m., Lenee 7 26 p m., Charleston 9 i5 p. m.
Trains on Conway Branch isa ve Ct?d
bouro il 50 &. m., arrive at Conway
w?y 2 10 p m., returning leave Conway at
245 p. m., ?i -ive Cbadbourn 5 15 p. m\
leave Cbadbourn *> 45 p ru., arrive at Hub at
G 25 p. m., resum?, g leave Hub 8 30 a. m.
arrive at Cbadbourn 9.15 a.m. Daily ex?
cept Sunday.
f Dailv except Sunday.
J. K. KEN LY, Gen'l Manager.
T. M. EMERSON. Traffic Manager.
H. M. EMERSON, Gen'I Pass. Agent.