Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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J HAMLIN I COPYRIGHT, 1905. B" CHAPTER VI. BARNETT was at breakfast when a telegram was laid at his el ) bow by the maid. He cpeced it leisurely, thinking it some batter of business? but bU hands stiff Hfced as he read: S?b Raymond id shot Send best doctor ^ t?wn ^ulck. WATSON. For just a moment he sat in silence, ^?fcen rose and walked slowly to his li? brary. Seating himself before the lit tte desk on which stood a movable tele? phone receiver, be began to "make ^thmgs hum" _He reached his friend, S^BraideTand^et lilnYin motion.' "He ordered out his racing automobile. He telegraphed Watson to take fresh corses and return by way of Junction 3&d get the best doctor there, "Burn the air as you go," he.added. After giving orders for his valise to \ be packed he walked up to Mrs. Bar Sett's room and kissed, her good morn ^3ag without betraying his excitement. "Fm going out to the ranch," he said. *The boys are having trouble with the hay, and I want to see how they're j "coming on. You wont mind, will Sour* ?"Of coarse not, Donl Fm going to be *H tight in a' few hours. I'm glad i ^*?'ie g<3?ag. You can bring Ann home. Xe* Should have gone with her jester- J ^ay ? j see that now," he answered dryly. *?fc will be a startling world for her. ?. Well, Fm off. Better stay in bed to ^ay. Til be back by tomorrow night, I think." When he took his seat tn his big, flat, powerful auto car his face was set in ^r??i lines. "Is she all right, Henry?" &e asked of his engineer. *Tn perfect order, sir." ~She needs to be. This is to be a Record breaker." With his big goggles over his eyes ?m& his cap drawn low down on his ?forehead, Barnett seized the wheel, the' ponderous, panting organism began to move. Wheeling into the Street, he let on the full power of the engine, and when he drew up at ? Braide's gate the mechanism was_hot_ lilia. speed, its joints oiled and fric lEoniess-in racine trim. Braide, a small, smiling, trig young ?ei?ow. came out. "What is it all -^jSjwuvP^n-^--_... ""Got your tools T He pointed at his bag? "Emergency ^Theu all aboard!" "fieiary leaped out and caught pp the while the doctor climbed in beside I Barnett on the front seat. This looks ominous. How much of .a trip is it going to be?" ""Jtast a short run," answered Bar? nett as he swung the shining red bulk j, j? the car into Mogalyon avenue, which If A directly east over the plain. 1 l^^^^L^ ?on't mind saying that I'm anxious about Bob." "Beneath their Teet the puff and click the piston ?nd the pur of cogs grow moment more furious until all .'.sounds fused into' a bumming roar. Xfee keen air of the morning smote the reders jovially. The flaming sunlight ?$**?ted -upon them with growing heat. .JU??. ^backward, beneath them, the sod s&xrept like a tawny cannot, while Bar? att? watchful, intent, composed, work vd <he levers and valves with the skill 'Of ? practical engineer. When they had j*ro$$ed the two railroads and were \?e?nbing, the iong\ 1- w ridge he casual? ly ?remarked: ' '"Mr-'foreman, Raymond, is shot, and v^fve got to pull I . ? 111 through." "^Great Seott, Don, 1 can't afford the It'll toike all* day if Fd Stoi?*d i:.t re tr^io .inst the same,?' as Barnett ci linly. Tho machine ?? gain running swiftly. "You're ^Scf? sind yon daren't jump out; ai"! night as well enjoy yourself. This ?* T. ;,?. a record run. 1 m going to pull GARLAND Y HAMLIN GARLAND __-4 go it, old sport! ? can stand If if you can. I'll make it a holiday and charge you double for every hour." When they had reached the tap of the pass between two pinon spotted hills the road could be seen for miles, driv? ing straight into the mist of the mighty Missou ri valley. "It's all the way down grade from here to Omaha," remarked Barnett. "I could make the run in two hours, only I mustn't invite a breakdown." '.You seem to value your foreman." "He's something more than my fore man. He's a splendid chap. You've met him-the fellow who went on the 'coyote drive' with us." "Why, certainly I remember him. I've met him at the club. But he was very reticent. I didn't get at him. Who is he? How ?does he come to be your foreman?" "He's a little slow about telling his I own life story, but he's all right I ? think I know the cause of tliis shoot? ing. He got into trouble with a couple of fellows out there, and one of them has done him." As they entered upon a particularly smooth stretch of road the man at the wheel relaxed his hold and said, with deep feeling: "I don't'mind saying that Tm anxious about Rob. I've grown mighty fond of him. He's not one giv? en to confidences, and I've respected his reticence. I don't know quit> why he is here, but I trust him and count myself fortunate to have him on the place. He made $40,000 for me last year on hay and cattle, and must have a little bunch laid up for himself. I've felt for a year that I ought to put Rob into something better. I owed it to him. Now, if he dies"- He broke off j and bent to his wheel to hide the emo I tion that made his lips quiver, j It lacked ten minutes of noon as Bar I nett rose above the last great wave of tie tawny sea and sighted the clump of cottonwoods In which his r?neh buildings sat, and two minutes later he swept into the yard and up to the door amid a throng ot singularly silent cow? boys and ranchers. The first one to speak was Mrs. Scribbins, who ex fclaimed: ? "Jerusalem the golden ! You hain't I come frorL home this raomin' in that j doggone thunder cart, hav.e ye?" "That's what. How's Rob?" "Quiet as mice: but I hope ye brought l help." Barnett rose from his seat stiffly and climbed painfully down, while Braide seized his case of tools and hurried into the cabin. Barnett, feeling a small hand grip? ping his arm, turned to meet Louis. "Hello," said he. "How is Ann?" ! "She's all right. She saved 'Bob's ! life." answered the boy. Ann, who stood just outside the door, answered very quietly: "I am quite well. How is Jeannette?' **I left her feeling very well. But tell me the truth, is Rob dying?" "No," said Ann. "But he needs help. He was shot last evening and has lain all night in pain. Ile is very weak now." Barnett hurried into the hot dusk of the ranch house, smelling of the dinner, which was cooking, and bent above his foreman. "Hello, Rob! How do you feel?" Raymond whispered, "Oh, I'm all right; a little weak" The doctor interposed. "Clear the room of everybody but this woman." He indicated Mrs. Scribbins. "We must find this bullet." Barnett turned to the men who filled the doorway. "Clear out. boys: the doc? tor wants to be aloue now." Raymond smiled a little. "The bullet went on. It's in the wall somewhere." Barnett came to th3 door and said to Ann: rYou better go out under the trees and rest. You look tired." "I will stay if I can be of any use." "We don't need you. Mrs. Scribbins will help us. Please go. Louis, take her away till this is over." Released from her benumbing load of responsibility, Ann laid her hand on her brother's arm. "Come, Louis," and to? gether they went out along the little winding path which led to the spring. "What do you suppose they will do to him?" asked Louis. Ann turned sick. "Oh, I don't know! Don't speak of it! It's too horrible!" When they re-entered the cabin Bar? nett met diem with a smile. "The doctor says Rob's all right. He in? sists that Ann saved his life. You poor girl! What a night that boy let you in for! I didn't know till ten minutes ago that you were here all alone and that Jones and his wife had vamoosed. I hope you'll forgive me, Ann." "Oh, I Mame no one hut myself." she wearily replied. "I shouldn't have come to this miserable! ghastlv region." "Rob wants to see you. Will you come in and speak to him?" Ann reluctantly followed Barnett in? to the inner room where Ilaymoud, ! with his wounds dressed and limbs ? properly clothed, lay stretched on the j bed. Ile was very pale, '<'ii his eyes ! w?*re calm and quiet II" reached a . feeble right hand toward her, saying j painfully: "You've It-en mighty good . to me. Kv nnd bv 1 will liv to thank : dog. "Don't leave me now. 1 wi you" She glanced at the young doctor, w stood listening. He nodded as if say, "Grant his request." And so ? put his hand away gently as if 1 clinging fingers were those of a sle( ing bate und said, with a return pity: "I will stay till tomorrow. N< please go to sleep." He closed his eyes under her pal and tears of gratitude came steali down from his brown lashes. For t moment she forgot that she had kno^ him but a day; that she, too, was stranger-far removed from him every thought and purpose-and CK sented to stay because he clung to t and needed her. A hand seized h throat, and an emotion which aliena ed her from her old self rose wit! her bosom and for a moment frighte ed her. In the end it irritated hi this pity, and yet it could not shaken off. A deeper self which s had not known insisted that she ke her word to the wounded man, and for two days she oscillated between pitying tenderness for him and a d gust anil bitterness with herself a] her weakness. On the third day Braide pronounce his patient out of danger, and th? Ann's pity died. "I am going home," she said to Loui "and you must go with me. They a going, to take the foreman to ti Springs, and I cannot leave you here. Ann said gcKx?by to the wounded ml in Barnett's presence, and a sense < irritation caused her to be very distal with him. "I hope you will soon be able to 1 removed," she said, evading his glanc "This is a distressing place in whic to be sick, and now I must say goo* by." He took her hand in both of his. ' shall miss you, but I won't ask you 1 stay any longer. You've been vei sweet and helpful to me, and I hate 1 have you go. You will let me see yo again, won't you?" "My cousin intends to take you 1 his house as soon as you can be moi ed," she answered formally. "N doubt we shall meet agam there." "I W.21 live in hope of that," he ai swered gallantly. CHAPTER TTL, ONCE more in Valley Springs j Ann's old self returned, an ' the scenes through which sh had passed became as ut real as the happenings of a dream, bu her sense of injury deepened into dis like of Raymond and the life he rep resented. Therefore she took care no to see him as he was borne into Bar netts house. "He is nothing to m? and I must decline to be troubled b: him further," she said as she wa* dressing to go out >.rr?. Barnett, however, was waits; and when the carriage in which h< lay came ro the door hastened to tak< his hand in both of hers and '.?akc bin welcome. 'Tm glad you came, Rob We are going to have you out ia a fe?? days. How do you feel?" In his weak state he could only boy ishly say: "Oh, I'm on the up grade You and Don are mighty good to me." Thereafter Raymond abandoned him? self to tue joy of traveling back to life along such ways of wanton luxury as he nae! never known. He permitted himself to be waited upon, even by Mrs. Barnett, without protest and when Louis came stealing into the room ia awe and love his heart went out to :he boy as to a brother. "Hello, younker!" he called. "You needn't walk so soft voiced. I'm worth a dozen dead men yet." The boy's face .shone. "I thought you were asleep. Can I do anything for you?" "Xo; only come and sit down and talk to me. What have you been do? ing since you came back to the Springs?" Louis took a seat. "Nothing of any consequence, except to make some drawings of the ranch. It's dull here. I want to go into the mountains." "You're a wonderful youngster. Wait till I'm able to travel, and we'll go up into the high country together." Louis clapped his hands. "Won't that be glorious? I'd rather do that than anything else in the world." "Hovr is your sister?" asked Ray? mond, with abrupt change of tone. "She is well. She's always well. We just came in from a drive. That's the reason I wasn't here to help you. Did it hurt you going upstairs?" "Not a bit. The boys handled me as tenderly as a side o' pork. Let me see 3'our drawings, will you?" The boy's face glowed. "Well, you just wait." And he rushed away to get them. Mrs. Barnett upon meeting Ann said, with deep feeling: "Rob's iljness has transformed him. He said to me a few moments ago: 'If you can find the. man who shot me, reward him. He has done me a great service. I am lost in a dream of luxury.' ile asked after \ou with emotion and said he would ike to thank you for your serv? ice to him." Ann. listening intently, remained cold? ly impassive of face. "Mrs. Scribbins was the really efficient person. I have a hon-jr of sick people, and as for wounds"- She shuddered for lack of words. Mrs. Barnett went on: "I like to do ? for him, he s so grateful and so obe- j dient, lie says just the right thing al- j ways. There CQUS1 bc good breeding j back of the man, although bc never j mentions his family. There's some love j affair to account for his being herc, lie's t< o handsome not lu have bad on tungiera?nts. Dont you think so?" Tlc insisted hot," replied Ann. "He ? begged me io consider that his life had j been quite commonplace." ?. ! don't believe it. li*- couldn't be j con?n H ?face. He said io me just now. ! 'SomeI rues man must hear che ?vash I 01 flie ;.: er of death to realize how tu ! tile be has allowed his life to become.' j His ;T::I:.I:.:.. rmvard v.-?n is pathetic." pressive. I did so little, and that litt was not done with a gracious spirit, didn't enjoy it then nor in retrospect." "You mustn't let him know that H: worship of j'ou positively irradiates hi face, and he's very handsome. He ii sists that you were heroic." Ann grew a little petulant "I wis you wouldn't try to make mountair ont of molehills. It was a most ui pleasant experience, and I wish to fo get it, not to have it dinned in my eai forever. My going was folly, and m stay in that ghastly place was a to; ment. Please allow me to put it out c my memory." Ann had a moment of bitter hom? sickness, a feeling she had never know before. This mad trip into the wes with a reckless and supersensitive bo grew each moment more disastrous. A the moment she fairly hated her cou? ins and all the guests atJheir tablean longed, with unspeakable" hunger, "Tc the roll of carriages on Fifth avenu and the glitter and tumult of Broac way. The stony, uninterested stare c her mother was better than this prj ing, this overstrained interest on th part of Jeannette. As for Raymond, he had been mc mentarily interesting as a cowboy, an when he was lying at the brink of th grave he had assumed tragic value, bu now that he was on the way to recov ery he ceased to interest. "He is mer? ly one of the thousands of other con: monplace young eastern men who hav tried their fortunes in the west an< failed," she said. "Why should I b burdened with any further care o him?" At dinner Don told again for the foi tieth time the story of Raymond': shooting and in spite of Ann's ^protest put her in as the heroine, which reinfu riated her almost to the point of leav ing the table. The "Ah's!" and "Dea me's!" and "By Jove's!" volleying fron the listeners were quite insupportable One lady said, "Poor fellow!" "Not at all," said Dr. Braide. "H< was a lucky dog. I'd be shot any da} to get suet a nurse." Jeannette saw the angry flush 01 Ann's face and hastily turned the con versation into less personal channels. Thus every influence swept her to ward a dislike of the wounded man's very name, and thereafter she ignored his presence in the house, his being ir the world, as though he did not exist. She neither asked after his health nor replied to any report or question made by her brother concerning him. Louis brought to Raymond one day a small limp book in red leather, which he proffered with the air of giving a gem. "What's this?" asked Raymond. "Your diary?" "No; my father's. He was out here before I was born, when the Indians were here." Tcaymond opened the volume ^'th languid interest, out scon realized that he was loki::'* into the past through the- eyes or" a poer. Part of it was writ ton in ink very legibly, but in a tine raining hand, while other cr the pages were hastily scribbled in pencil and not to be easily deciphered. Plainly the record had been made'under great dis? advantages and in the field. The inks were of various colors, some watery blue, some dusty black. Louis opened the book at the front wherein the picture of a slender, smil? ing, handsome young fellow in som? brero and hunting clothes had been pasted. "He enjoyed his new hat, didn't he?" said Raymond, to whom the essential incongruity of the refined face and bor? der ruffian toggery first appealed. "You're the image of your father?" he added, looking keenly at the boy. "pre don't look much older in this picture, taken at Sylvanite. Well, Syivanite was a wild town in those days. Is there much about it in the book?" "Ten pages. He wrote a page of fine script every day, but I don't care so much for that-these stage rides, and the big canyons, and crossing the rivers, and the Indians-he saw lots of Indians-the Utes-these are what in? terest me.'' Raymond became profoundly inter? ested in this book. There was an ap? peal in the closing entry which touched 1 bim profoundly. The entry was head? ed "The Last View'' and closed with these words: "I love my home and my friends in the east, but this primeval world has laid its spell upon me. I shall come again next year." "Did he come again?" asked Ray? mond. "No," answered Louis sadly. And it was soon evident to Raymond that the lad knew very little of his father beyond the message in the worn little book. "Leave this with me. Louis. I want to read it all," he said. And the boy was glad of this interest. Mrs. Barnett came in later and ask 3d, "What are you reading?" "It is a journal kept by Louis' fa? ther. Did you know him?" "Oh, very well! He was my favor? ite uncle." "Tell me of him. Who was he-how ?id he come to make this trip?" Mrs. Barnett took a comfortable seat "I don't know where Uncle Phil got bis streak of sentiment. He was one .?)f six brothers, all successful busi? ness men; keen, practical-you know the kind. But Phil-well, he was the 3dd sheep-he always seemed a boy to me. He worked in the bank, but Lils mind was on other tir'ngs. I dont remember how they came to send him sut here, but I can recall perfectly the effect he had ou me when talking ^f his trip. Ile glorified this country. Ile saw the mountains as the old time landscapists pictured them. When I Srst came 1 wept whh disappointment, j [la- range seemed so prosaic by con? trast. He talked of nothing else for a j .-ear. Then ho married and gradual- 1 [y --eased referring to his experiences." ! "He ne>-er .-a?no again, Louis teiis J 1 me." j "No. His wife vas not the kind of f 1 <iiri to go west. J don't want to say i A anything severe about Al?ela, luit she ? was born Phil wanted to call her Hes per, in memory of his trip to the west but Alicia cried out against it It was an odd name, but it wa3 pretty, and there was no reason why the father shouldn't have had his wish, but that was her way. She was cold and selfish even in her honeymoon. I never saw such a girl. Phil went with her to every fashionable resort in Europe, but she not merely refused to make a trip into his Hesperian mountains, but she wouldn't let him go. He used to get up into the Adirondacks now and then, I remember, but only for a day or two. Oh, how exacting she was! After Louis was born she grew worse. She became " You say the father called her Hesper t " morbid. I never could see that she had a particle of maternal affection. If Ann isn't like her it is because Phil's blood is in her veins. Louis is exactly as Phil was, as I recall him when I saw bim first." "You say the father called her Hes per?" pursued Raymond, acutely inter? ested in all that concerned Ann. "It was his pet name for her. Few people knew it I don't think Louis knows it for Ann considered the name absurd as she grew older and never re? fers to it I think it is a pretty name, don't you?" "Yes. It is beautiful." His eyes took on a musing look. 'Hesper"! Somehow the name express? ed the poetry of the father's concep? tion, and with little else to do the wounded man gave long hears io re cai?ing and relieving his experiences with her as his nurse He longed w irb a great longing to see ber again, bur to Iiis carious shyness had been added the humility of one who feels himself unworthy to ask any favor, and the troubled look which came now and again into the lines of his face made Louis sad. The boy ideal? ized him, made of him a wonderful be? ing, better worth serving than any monarch, and in this strain he talked to Ann till she impatiently begged him to stop. But in her secret heart Ann admit? ted that she, too, had been touched by the indefinable charm of Ray? mond's voice and manner, but the question of how best to check his growing power over her brother's life had become a very serious problem, for as the days wore on he put her aside as completely as she ignored his hero. Together Raymond and the boy read the little red book, mapping the points described as best they could-a task of some difficulty, for the traveler had purposely given mythical names to the towns, rivers and peaks. It had all been a wonderland to Philip Rupert, and he took care to have no stupid or vulgar name mar the perfect effect. There was something in all this which refined and softened the young rancher. Joined with his love for "Hesper" (as he loved to call Ann in secret), this boyish father's enthusi? asms transmuted every reckless, bit? ter impulse into stem resolutions to enter upon a new life-a life with pur pose and devotion in its course. . [TO BE COXTTXTJED.] Flow of Spirits In Youth. How unaccountable the flow of spir? its in youth. You may throw sticks and dirt into the current and it will ?nly rise the higher. Dam it up you may, but dry it up you may not, for rou cannot reach its source. If you stop up this avenue or that anon it will come gurgling out where you least expected and wash away all fixtures. Touth grasps at happiness as an in? alienable right. The tear does no soon? er tgush than glisten. Who shall say when the tear that sprung of sorrow Brst sparkled with joy?-H. D. Tho? reau in Atlantic. Sno-vrdrifts In S-weden. The worst snowdrifts experienced by any railroad are said to be those in Sweden. Although the cold is not so Intense as in some of our western states, the snowfall is heavy aud con? tinuous. The snowplows of various kinds which aro used on these roads Eire said to be the most powerful in the world. There are times, however, when sven this machinery fails to clear the way, when hundreds of men must be employed to dig out the stalled trains. Tlx* R**:til> Repartee. ""This book**- began the agent who ! ind pushed his way into the office. a ''Don't want, it!" snapped the busy l'^ ncr;-hani. "1 wish I knew some sure ; E. ray to keep you fellows out of here." i p "This hook tells you. Buy one."-Phil- , . BRIDEGROOM MURDERED. Charlotte, N*. C., Apgust 1.-W. M. Brown, who was only married half an ti our, was shot and killed by F. Y. Kikaid here today while standing et the depot with his bride awaiting a [rain. The murderer was arrested. Feeling against him is intense. The :ause was jealousy. MISSISSIPPI POLITICS. Washington, Aug. 2.-Congressman handler of Mississippi was one of the visitors at the Democratic Congres? sional headquarters today. He de? alares the sentiment for Bryan in Mississippi is overwhelming, and thai he wili carry every voting precinct in the State. Speaking of the sen? atorial contest in his State, he ridi? culed the boast of Gov. Vardaman that he would beat Williams in a popular election for senator by a vote of 2 to 1. He says that Williams sentiment is very strong and the vote will be a close one. CHARGES AGAINST WOOD. Oyster Bay, Aug. 2.-Denial was made at the executive offices this morning of the story published in the morning papers which charges Gen, Leonard Wood with drawing two salaries in the Philippines. According to the story Gen. Wood collects his army pay and also draws $4000 a year as civil governor. The story* is ridiculous on its fee, said Sec? retary Loeb. Gen. Wood has nothing whatever to do with the civil admin? istration of the islands. ^ ? ^f*; .?. '-" 1 "-? --n Sf^j Deafness Cannot be Cured by loca? applications, as they cannot reach the diseased portion of the ear. There is only one way to cure deaf? ness, and that is by constitutional remedies. Deafness is caused by an inflamed condition of the mucous lining of the Eustachian Tube. When this tube is inflamed you have a rum? bling sound or imperfect hearing, and when it is entirely closed, Deafness is the result, and unless the inflama tion can be taken out and this tube restored to its normal condition, hear? ing will be destroyed forever; nine cases out of ten are caused by Ca? tarrh, which is nothing but an in? flamed condition of the, mucous sur? faces. We will give One Hundred..Dollars. for any case of deafness (.caused by catarrh) that cannot be cured by Hall's C?tarrh Cure. Send for cir? culars tree. P.- F. Ciicney & Co., . Toledo, Ohio. Sold by all Druggists, 75c. Take Hall's Family Pills for constipa Lion. HOT FUR UNCLE JOE. Chicago, Aug. 2.-Several of Chica? go's Union Labor spellbinders are be? ing sent into the Danville District by the Federation of Labor in the -effort LO defeat Speaker Cannon for re-elec-' ?ion to Congress. The Republican party managers proposed to put "Unce Joe" on Gompers' tHal where? ver he speaks to counteract his in rluence. It is thought now that the pian of the Federation will force Dahnen to stay at home to defend iilmself. Zuvcd Hay Fever and Summer Cold. *A. J. Nusbaum, Batesville, Ind., vrites: "Last year I suffered for :hree months with a summer cold so listressing that; it interfered with my business. I had many of the symp :oms of hay fever, and a doctor's pre ?cription did not reach my case, and ; took several medicines which ;eemed to only aggravate my case, fortunately I insisted upon having foley's Honey and Tr.r and it quick y cured me. My wife has since used roley's Honey and Tar with the same uccess." Durant's Pharmacy. St. Petersburg, Aug. 1.-A former nember of Douma was shot and tilled today while walking with his amily. The assailant escaped. "Make Hay While the Sun Sliines." -There is a lesson in the work of he thrifty farmer. He knows that he brigh sunshine may last but a day nd he prepares for the showers rhieh are so liable to follow. So it houid be with ever;/ household. Dys ntery, diarrhoea and cholera morbus nay attack some member of the home without warning. Chamberlain's Col cholera and Diarrhoea Remedy, rhich is the best known medicine for hess diseases, should always be kept t hand, as immediate treatment is ecessary, and delay may prove fatal, 'or salo by all druggists. Stomach Troubles and Constipation. *Xo one can reasonably hope for oed digestion When the bowels are onstipated. Mr. ('has. Baldwin, of 'dwardsville. lil., says, "I suffered rom chronic c ?nstiparion and stom oh troubles for several years, but tanks to Chamberlain's Stomach and .iver Tablets am ahm ?st cured." Why ..- get a package of these tablets and . .i weii and stny well? Price 25 cts.