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About Harrison press-journal. (Harrison, Nebraska) 1899-1905 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 3, 1899)
A GREAT BURPRISB, .A great Tallow sunflower grew bo tall It looked right over the garden wail. "Bless me,' crttd b, "what a, marver- ou sight! Wonderful meadowe to left and rlrht; And a hill that reaches up to the skjr. ad a lone, straight road where the folks go by. Twaa luckjr for me that I crew so tall As to see the lands that He over the walL I hadn't the faintest Idea," said be, "How much of a place the world might be!" Youth's Companion. DR. DAWSON'S WARD Dr. Arthur Dawson rose from his easy chair, and welcomed to his com fortably furnished consulting: room the well dressed young man whose card his servant had Just handed to him. "Always glad to see you, George. I think I can guess what your visit means. Tou wish to ask me to consent to your engagement to Laura?" George Abbot felt far more nervous than on the well-remembered occasion of making his first speech to a Jury, and stammered out, "T-e-s, sir. But how did you know? Has Laura" "Laura has said nothing to me. Hut It U said, you know, that 'lookers-on ae most of the game,' and your atten tions were such as no honorable man would offer without serious Inten tions." "Then you consent!" the young man broke In. "If. after you have heard the story I am about to relate to you, you still per slst In your request for my ward's hand " "Your ward!" "Yes, Laura Is not my own child She . Is my adopted daughter, and 1 love her as dearly as, twentyi-flve years ago, I loved her poor, Ill-fated mother. But listen to her father's history. "After passing through Guy's, and being duly licensed to kill," said the doctor," I proceeded to India, having obtained a government appointment In the land of cholera and chutnae. was there fifteen years and was rest dent surgeon at Berrl-Herri Barracks, in. the Neilgherry Hills, when I first met Captain Kerr. He was a tall, un oenlably handsome man, probably 30 fears of age. "The colonel of his regiment was Walter White, whose fag I had been at Winchester. I was a frequent vis itor at his bungalow, and one of the many victims to the charms of hla lovely daughter. Even now I recall her willowy figure, her merry laugh her flaxen ringlets, and trustful, vlo- ici eyes, uui 1 neeun t enter upon a description of her; her daughter Is her living Image. "Laura her child bears her name- had many suitors, and among them was Rupert Kerr. The captain was gener ally looked upon as the lucky man ana, Dy oegrees, most or the young lady's admirers withdrew from the un- iqual contest. "One day a startling rumor passed round the camp. I heard of It as I made my morning round, and, though I pooh-poohed It, It still gained curren sy. Men said that Captain Kerr had been secretly married, more than a rear ago, to a half-caste woman at Bombay, and that she had appeared In amp to claim her rights as his wife. "After the mess, at which Colonel White and the captain were both ab sent. I was summoned to the Colonel's bungalow, I went across at once, and found that poor Laura was In a high fever. Her father and mother were endeavoring to calm her, but In vain, and ever and anon she would shriek: "My Rupert, my Rupert no, you're not my mine! Not mine, oh dear!" and then would follow a burst of tears. I then learned that the sinister rumor was no cantonment gossip, but the plain, un rarnlshed truth. "On returning to my quarters I was astonished at finding Captain Kerr awaiting me. 'Ha, doctor,' he ez slalmed, as he saw me, 'I want you to some over and see my my my wife.' with a curiously hard Intonation of the last word. "I resumed my hat, which I had laid Ulde, and followed him to his bunga low. On my way I asked, 'What art the symptoms?' "Well, she Is sleeping, and has been sleeping since noon, and I can't awak M her,' was the anawer. "On a couch In the veranda was stretched an exceedingly fat mulatto s-oman, with brown features and a surioualy puckered skin. She was ly ing an bar back and waa snoring like a Itentor. "I rraaped ber arm and felt her pais. It beat fast and Irregularly, The captain stood at the head of the tofa and leant over her. Almoat at that instant the woman awoke, and poured forth auch a voluble string of the most awful language (English and Hindustani) that even I shrank back appalled. "The captain motioned me to the loer. 'She's come around, doctor, ao there's no necessity for your kind aer rloes. I will only ask you not to de Icrlbe Mrs. Kerr to the mess.' I gave Ike required pledge and left him. "For some week I attended Mrs. Cerr la ber apparently cataleptic janoea They came it Irregular In tervale, and were always marked by alalia symptom "My other patient, Laura White, had tjr this time recovered, but waa hardly sore) than the shadow of her old Many self. Naturally, Kerr wan cut gf the regiment, and L for one, felt uoeraly glad when It waa announced that he had exchanged Into a home jvglment and would shortly sail for nflaad. "aty affection for Laura waa only etreagthened, and one day, after pay. J an amy moralng visit, I naked her, la bar fatkera presence to become any wife.. "She buret Into tears, and when she had recovered her compoaere, eke an swered: 1 feel that I am honored by the affection of a good and noble man, and, though I cannot give you the love I ought, I will try and make you a good and faithful wife. "On the' day that our engagement was published, Kerr's wife died. was present when she passed away In a cataleptic fit, and gave my certificate to that effect. As Is usual In hot ell mates, she was buried within twenty four hours. "Forty-eight hours later my brief cup of happiness was dashed to the ground. Captain Kerr had left for Eng land, and Laura White had fled with him. They had been married In Bom bay, and had sailed for England before the colonel and I reached that port. "I returned to England a few month's later, to find that Kerr had never entered upon his duties In hi new regiment, but had sent In hi papers Immediately after his arrival. I sought for news of them, but could learn nothing. "About three years later I read I the papers the announcement of Laura Kerr's death. It had taken place a Cheltenham, to which town I at once proceeded. Here my Inquiries led to my ascertaining that she had died I lodgings In High street, and that her husband had taken his departure Immediately after the funeral, acconv panled by his little daughter. The landlady of the lodgings gave me the address of the medical man who had attended her, and on him I at once called. He courteously answered my Inquiries, and Informed me that the cause of death was catalepsy. "Catalepsy again! That was Indeed singular. But my suspicions were not as yet awakened. There was no trace of Kerr or his child, and I could d nothing. "Another period of three years pass ed, and I had set up my brass plate here In Birmingham, and had built up a prosperous and remunerative prac tlce. One lovely summer afternoon received a telgraphlc call to an accl dent case at Dudley. The carriage came and I started. But we had not passed through Handsworth when It became evident that one of the horses was dead lame. I accordingly dismissed the car riage and decided to complete the Jour ney by cab. This was done, and It was nearly nine o'clock when, after partak Ing of some food, I left my patient's house. "There Is always a scarcity of cabs In the outlying parks of the Black country, and I had perforce to make my return by train. At Handsworth I changed onto a cable tram, and mounted to the top of the vehicle to enjoy a cigar In the pleasant night air. "My nearest neighbor on the tram was a tall, thin man, close-shaven and with Bhort Iron-grey hair, and appar ently fifty years of age, though he might be younger. He had mounted the vehicle at Its first stopping place, bearing In his arms a little girl a wee winsome maiden of four or five sum mers, with long silken blonde hair and lovely violet eyes. Surely I had seen those eyes before! I could not see the man's face; It was too dark a night 'Suddenly, from some failure of the brake, our car collided roughly with the preceding one, and was thrown off the lines. The child was Jerked vio lently from her father's knee onto the back of the so-called garden seat In front of us. and her face waa badly cut, the blood streaming down. 'I had never seen such horror and dismay as blazed forth In an Instant; the silent, self-contained man snatched up his child's senseless form, sprang to his feet and almost screamed: 'My child Is hurt! Run for a doctor; don't lose a moment.' I put my hand on his shoulder, and said quietly, 'I am a medical man,' and as I saw those steely gray eyes, I added, 'Captain Rupert Kerr.' 'He turned angrily upon me, and I thought he was about to strike me. Then he remembered his little one, and said: 'Dr. Dawson. I did you a great wrong once. But be merciful and save her child "The child was carried downstairs and Into a shop close by, I took out my Instrument case, lint, etc., and washed, stitched and bandaged the wound In the baby's' forehead. Then I asked, 'Where do you live? I wtu see her safely to bed.' 'Thank you,'' waa the sullen response, "my address la my own business:' and be carried kla child out. got into a cab with her, and said 'Birmingham' to the driver. There waa no means of stopping" him. but I had presence of mind enough to Jot down that drivel's number on' my shirt cuff. "The neat day I employed' secret Inquiry agent to find Rupert Kerr. He had driven to New street, taken a fresh cab, and doubled back to Hands worth, where he directed the cabman to take him to 17 Roman road. The second cabby had been found through the help of the police at New street station. "I now did what should have been done before. While the first agent waa Instructed to find out Kerr's pres ent manner of life, a second detective waa aent to Clendennln to Inquire Into hla earlier proceedings. "Kerr waa, aa I had always known, an Inveterate gambler. It waa ascer tained that he had brought to England with him the greater portion of his Drat wife's property, and had almost dissipated this, when poor Laura's death put him In possession of ber fathers savings for poor Colonel White died soon after his daughter'a elopement, and bad bequeathed his po. aeaalon to her. Moreover, both wives had been heavily Insured. From the Other detective I learnt that he fol lowed no occupation, but frequented betting clubs and hotel bars and seemed to be rather deeply Involved, More over, it waa popularly believed that he would soon marry a lady of supposed wealth, whose acquaintance be had made at a local garden party. Fagg, the Inquiry agent, had also ascertained that his daughter Laura had recently been insured for 500 pounds. Bhe had hitherto enjoyed absolutely .good health but since the assurance had been com pleted she had suffered from cataleptic fits. "When this last development of tht situation reached me. my smouldering suspicions of the man blazed into Ram at once. Remembering that Perclval who had been staioned with the caralrj brigade at the cantonment, was tken In command at Lichfield, I wired bur to come over at once 'on a matter of life and death' as I really feared l was. "General Perclval arrived that right and we sat up till dawn discussing th state of affairs. He had remained j India some years later than I had and was able to give me a clew. It secrm that previous to his marriage with th half-caste woman who was his flnr wife, Kerr had been on terms of friend ship with several Brahmin magnate? ""His most usual associate was a ma named Saga Nunl and this same fel low had afterward been convicted r poisoning his brother and had bee hanged for the crime. "We at last resolved to seek the fti" vice and assistance of the local pallet that little Laura's life might, at leas' be preserved. A consultation with th chief constable followed, and the doc tor who attended little Laura arrange , to telephone the news of her next "at tack. His summons came within I week, and Kerr, alias Wren, was af rested at his daughter's bedside. B made a most frantic resistance, cryijv out that he, and he alone, could rt; store the child to consciousness, bui was at last removed to the station an-' searched. A hypodermic syringe. RWex. with a dark, blood-colored fluid, t." unknown properties, and a curloiisK pungent odor, waa found upon him ani a similar syringe was found In the roon? where little Laura's apparently dea body lay. This contained a sort of vtp cid green matter, quite unknown tr European medicine, and smelling Ilk rotten bananas. Two peculiarly shap ; ed vials, marked 'one' and 'two' In Sanscrit characters, and containing de-' coctlons that corresponded to the two. syringes, were found In Kerr's bed room, concealed In an old hat case. "Laura remained unconscious, an' at last even my hop-s of her recovery faded away, and the corpse of the lit tle one wag laid out to await a post mortem examination. "Swanston, the local practitioner, no ticed that there were seven puncture? made by the syringe on her left arm and six on her right. On this slendpr basis, and on Kerr's excited declaration that he could save her, Swanston built up a curious theory. It was that, a th Insurance had not been In fores ri months, foul, therpfrti-o hn1 not ' mo k , -, v ...... iurea, ine man naa no present inten- t tlon of slaying his daughter, butlwao only preparing the way, and he poiited out that this was her seventh atck He, therefore, argued that an Injection of the blood-colored fluid would restore her to life and health. "Accordingly, Swanston and I, ac companied by the police doctor and thf Inspector, returned to the chamber of death. The Injection was made. Fo: moment there was absolute qules cence, then, by little an.J little, th. Igns of returning animation were per ceived. Gradually life and warmth of color returned to the wan and pallid corpse; faint pulsation became appar ent; the eyelids quivered, and a deei igh told us that for once the angel of eath had yielded up his prey. 'As the police could not prove that Kerr had caused the catalepsy the prosecution broke down and he was discharged. He was Immediately re-, arrested, charged with murdering his second wife, and remanded. An order from the home secretary having been obtained, Mrs. Kerr's body waa exhumed. A most awful spec tacle was revealed; the unhappy girl he waa only In her 21st year had been burled alive! or, rather, the influ ence of thla horrible Invention, this fiend-wrought catalepsy, had been ex hausted after burial, and no, I can't dwell upon any more of It. "Kerr slew htmeetf in prison while awaiting ma truu. how be procured the drug I knew not, but he took ar senic and saved the country the hang man' espeasea He left a sort of con feaaton,. sorwwled on the fly leaves of thr bible In hla- cell. He averred thai he Intended to take little Lauraa sup posed body to Cheltenham to busied aa soon1 aa the Insurance- came' In- force and he would- have resuscitated1 her on the' way.- Tre I- believe, for' his love for the little maid marked the one soft' spot In' the demon's heart: "Laura came to my house and' has been brought up aa my daughter. The brain fever that followed that awful trance a wept a way. all memory of het real father, and I never Intend her to be enlightened about him. "Now, George," concluded the 'doc tor, "that you know the stock that Laura Kerr has sprung from, do you still desire to make her your wife?" George Abbot roee. "1 say what ) said before, doctor. A parent's crimes cannot possibly affect a girl's charac ter. I love Laura; Laura lovea me and I would make her my wife If her father had committed every crime In the Newgate calendar." The doctor opened the atudy door and called "Laura!" In a moment or two a young lady In evening dress, and looking bewllderlngly pretty In her confusion, tripped Into the room. She had been awaiting the result of Georges Interview with papa In considerable trepidation of mind. "George has something to tell you," said the doctor, escaping Into the hall and shutting them In. What George said may be surmised from the fact that an unusually "smart" wedding took place from the Doctor's house some six months later, Tit-Bits. SHORT STORIES. MILLIE'S BOY. Marthy had heard the gossip. There to always some one to repeat un pleasant news. And the faded cheek of the little sewing woman flushed a dull red at the tidings that she was being talked about in the village where she had grown up. "D'ye mean folks are talking about me on account of my friendliness for Joe Wllber?" she asked. "If they are, you tell 'em to go right ahead an' talk. Tell 'em that for me." Her rough little hands trembled over the dress lengths in her lap and Miss Perkins saw her eyes flash with a new dignity as she continued: "It's a pity If a woman of my age can't be trusted to conduct herself in a proper man ner." "That's so, Marthy, an', of course, everybody has got respect for you. But this strange young feller, that don't ap pear to be more'n a boy, comln' along an' keepln' company with you does look cur us, an' no mistake." "Keepln' company with me!" Marthy repeated the words and then laughed. A ringing laugh of other days. JfWh'y, Mary Ann Perkins! I'm old enough to be his mother. I should have been his mother. Don't you know who be la?" Miss Perkins lifted a head full of as tonishment to reply: "He ain't John Wilber-s " "That's who It is, Mary Ann. I never blamed John for going away from me like the neighbors blamed him. It would have been worse if he hadn't when he found out that that he didn't care as much for me as he thought he did before Millie came home from school. It would have been wicked If be married me then. "I used to think sometimes that they would write to me. But they never did. Likely they thought I'd be mad. But I never was, and I never heard a word about how they were getting along. didn't know whether they were dead or living, until one day last spring I looked up to see Joe standing in that very door. He was pale and sick look lng, and he asked me for a drink of water. I almost fainted, for he seemed the living Image of John as he was when he went away. "I asked him his name and he told me. Told me how his folks had died when he was a little chap, and how he had been drifting around without a borne or friends. He didn't know me, but the Lord remembered me, I guess. Anyway, I said a prayer of thankful ness to Him for sending the boy that (Should have been mine to be. It teemed Just what I'd been waiting for all the time. I made him stay, and he la good and loving as my own son could be. "And now that he has got steady i work In the factory, he aays I must ,-lve up sewing and he will take care - me. - Bo, you canetell Miss Johnson ' mii' t 'want to make her dress. Meh- rt I am foolish, and perhaps folks have a right to laugh at me for a silly old maid. But you can tell 'em that Joe Wllber la my nephew more than that, he Is the son of the man I loved when I was a young girl, and love yet, now that I am an old woman, and shall love when I meet him In eternity, and tell him that I have tried to be a mother to his and Millie's boy." Chi cago Journal. AN OLD PHOTOGRAPH The train left us at a bare little sta tion, far beyond the town we were go ing to, and we went back grumbling on our tracks, a dusty, unshady mile, to our boarding house. And then we discovered It to be one we had picked out for our choicest disregard as the train passed by. But we were- sorry only until the door opened. The hall was large and cool and sweet, like Mrs, Putney herself, who h-ild our hands and brooded over us with sincere and copl ous pity for our dustry plight "My daughter, Alice," she said, pre. aentlng a pretty girl who came for ward to take ua to our room. "My wife, Alice, will be charmed with a name chum," Roger said merri ly, and we were all at home together at once, though we had known one another no more than six minutes by the clock. . X should have been a cynic. Indeed, to expect trouble of any kind to ap pear, and for three whole days bliss feigned. I did think at times that Alice earned a trifle and or preoccupied. Bhe amlled half-heartedly at Roger's Jolly lag, and went about silently for the Mat part, keeping much by herself. She aid even lea attention to Roger than say exacting pride required. Aa I amid, I was not a cynic, and, therefore, not prepared for woe, when one day I saw among some treasures Alloe was showing me In her room a faded' old photograph of Roger In hla schoolboy days. There was no chance Of mistake. The "R. to A." at the bot tom Of" the card I could have known K by that alone. I almoat caught it Out of her hands, I was so glad to see H, f or I had lout It In our betrothal days and never ceased to grieve about It But the picture was In Alice's hand and ahe was looking earnestly and sadly and wistfully at It. I turned away with my heart full. I did not doubt Alloe, and did not distrust Roger. I went over every possible circumstance and bask helplessly to the one simple fact Alice had and evidently held aa treasured possession a picture of Roger, and yet appeared not to know him when we met her. All In the dim dawn one morning Alice came out to help the milkman pull the milk out of the well, and, aa they moved about, I thought I noticed something familiar about the man. I couldn't hear what they said, and was glad, because aa it waa I didn't have to move, although they were evl dently talking Intimately. But I did hear a "Good-by Rufus." Rufus? Why, of course. A bucolic sweetheart of my own from the next town, where I had spent some summer vacations with my mother. Poor old Rufus! And I had forgotten the dear good soul entirely! My thoughts ran back to those days and then and there I remembered that It was at that house I had first missed the picture of Roger. I put two and two together in a mo ment, and I was in Alice's room before breakfast asking as easily as I could, "Who's that pretty boy you showed me the other day, Alice, in the military Jacket?" Alice looked up the picture aaln and announced with true embarrassment and great feeling: "It's a photograph, that's all. I don't know who It Is. Rufus gave It to me because It looked like his brother I he cared for me, and he was lost at sea and Rufus i, and he likes me toa Alice must have been surprised for I kissed her In the middle of the little story she was telling, and then I rushed to find Roger, and cried into his collar and said: "It's al right, Roger, darling; she didn't even know you, and you didn't, and I didn't and he didn't Oh, R. to A. I'm so happy, and I don't care one bit any more for ever." Which Incoherent Btory I elab orated to the dear boy's satisfaction later. Boston Post. HER FLIRTATION. "And Is that all the news?" saucily demanded Rupertlne Cllffgate. "Wid ow Prickett married again and Alice Brown gone to Colorado and young Morris built a new house. That Isn't much to happen In eight weeks. Dear, dear, how stupid the country Is, after New York. "That's all," said Daisy, solemnly, "Except,, Oh! I had almost forgotten to mention him the new minister." "A new minister?" echoed Rupertlne. "Oh, I remember old Mr. Ward did resign, Just before I went away. And there's a new minister, eh? What sort of a man Is he? Does he wear specta cles and quote the Proverbs of Solomon through his nose?J "Oh, no!" said Daisy, half Indignant ly. "Why, he's only twenty-five, and has the finest dark eyes and" "Unmarried?" Interrupted Rupertlne, breathlessly. "So they say and perfectly devoted to his books and studies." "Is he?" retorted Miss Rupertlne. "Well, then, after all, I shall not be obliged to let my sword of conquest rust In Its sheath. I'll teach this young dominie that the 'proper study of man kind Is man' or rather woman. We'll go to church tomorrow, Daisy." "Rupertlne!" Well, what are you opening your round blue eyes so wide for? I've got a white Swiss muslin dress trimmed with white ruffles and pink ribbon, which I think will about settle Mr. Mr. " "Ardham," put In Daisy, demurely. "And a very pretty name, too well It will settle Mr. Ardham's business for him. Oh, I tell you what, Daisy, these young ministers are no more Invulnera ble than the rest of the world, with their long faces and their solemn ways." Rupertlne kept her word and went to church the net day. Mr. Ardham saw her; he could scarcely have helped that, for Dr. Cllffgate's pew was In the Very front of the middle aisle and Rupertlne smiled secretly to herself to observe the momentary Inattention which caused him almost to lose his place In the hymn-book, whose leaves he was turning over. "I'll teach him to put St. Rupertlne 'among the list Ot canonized beings yet,' " said the coquette to herself. Rupertlne walked up to the pason age the next day with Daisy. Old Mrs. Kershaw, who kept house for Mr. Ard ham, stared as If a' butterfly had flown Into a dungeon.'' "I didn't Know you was one of the workers. Miss Tiny;" said she! "Oh, well, Mrs. Kershaw," said the beauty, "I'm tired of fashion and friv olity, and I want to work Just aa Daisy, here, doea" , . And when Mr. Ardham came down to the old Cllffgate house one autumn evening Rupertlne went down to tea him, with a curious thrill at her heart, as though it hungered for something afar off. "Miss Rupertlne,'.' frankly Vgan the young minister, "I have long waited to tell you something." "Tea?" Rupertlne leaned graciously toward him. "Of course, It la a matter of some importance to me, but whether It will be to you or not" Can you doubt that, Mr. Ardham T" ahe aaked, raeltlngly. "Well, then; I am thinking of being married I" "Tou will tell me to whomr "That was my Intention In coming here tonight Mlaa Cllffgate, I fear you will think me presumptuous." "Try me and see!" she smiled. '1 have no such fears." "It Is a relief to hear you say that I have engaged myself to marry your slater, Daisy I" Rupertlne started to her feet, every drop of the scarlet blood In her veins seeming to tingle. "Mr. Ardham alnce when?" "Since before you returned from New Tork, Mlaa Rupertlne, and I have only Just succeeded In Inducing her to allow me to tell you." Daisy) The rogue; the darting little hypocrite," cried Rupertlne, hardly knowing whether to be angry or pleased. But Daisy's srms around her neck changed the burst of of words. "Tou are not angry, deary "Angry," ahe whispered. "No; bwt asj thla time I have been trying to wta him for myself, and you know It, Daisy." "Tea, I know It, Rupertlne. But a heart that could have been won away from me thus would scarcely have been worth acceptance, so I let you try" "Mr. Ardham," cried Rupertlne, In her natural voice once more, "you have choaen well. Daisy is the very one to be a minister's wife." "I think so, too," said Mr. Ardham, In a tone of quiet self-gratulatlon. And so Miss Rupertlne Cllffgate's summer flirtation was all love's labor lost" ALL 13 FAIR IN LOVE. Ethel Woodyet, the Darling Down squatter's daughter, was slightly co quettish, as pretty and spirited girls generally are before they discover their masters. This waa until she had reached her seventeenth year. Then she began to grow softer and more sympathetic to those whom she had formerly sent away in such deejctlon. Jack Lefoy, her father's gentlemanly but reckless manager, she spoke gently to Instead of with her former scorn of careless girlhood. She knew he worshipped the ground she walked over, and would let no one else groom, feed or saddle her horse. She honored his respect aa she pitied his hopeless affection, but while. she said "Poor Jack!" admired hi handsome figure and strong, noble face she sighed that he did not come up to' her ideal, as her first fancy. But by and by her hero came along. Hon. John Brand waa certainly a noble-looking man. Dark, pale cheeked, thoughtful, exceedingly well groomed, he was exactly the kind of, man, only an inch shorter than Jack Lefoy, who was 6 feet 2 in his stock ings. He had a handsome, well-filled out figure, not yet too fat, white and even teeth, with thin, straight nose. and the most silky of black mustache? and beards. Hon. John Brand bore the reputation of a mighty hunter. He had brought to England trophies of his skill and prow ess from India, Africa and the Rocky mountains. Hon. John Brand rode easily and gracefully as he did everything, and as Ethel watched him furtively, she felt satisfied, safe and happy. She was taking him to a stalagmltlc cave In the ranges, which was one of the few sights of the district "We are almost at the gully where the cave is, Mr. Brand, and fifteen miles from civilization. "They have not seemed five, Miss' Ethel. Do you often come here?" "No, nor would I now unless I was. with a brave man. Because the natives are Btill sometimes troublesome la' these parts." "Indeed!" stammered Hon. John, : growing a shade paler, while his lower. Hp trembled. "Is that why you told me to bring my gun and revolver?" "Yes," answered Ethel, noticing his agitation, and hastening to reassure' him. "But don't be at all uneasy about me. I am perfectly safe with you." At this moment the most savage and startling yells rose from every lde fo them, while a shower of spears sped from unseen haflds and rattled against the rocks behind. "Merciful heaven," shrieked Hon".' John fifand, as he dropped on his face, and rolled instantly Into the cave, In an apparent paroxysm of mortal agony; leaving poor Ethel outside. What Is that? Shots In the gully?, Aye some one Is coming to the rescue and shooting as he speeds near. The gunpowder smoke drives Into the cave and at last leaves her vision clear to what is occurring outside. Here comes poor Jack Lefoy, empty-, ing his revolver to right and left, in heroic style, with the reins In his glis tening teeth and his blue eyes blazing.1 "Ah, safe, little girl?" cried Jack loudly. 1' "I am, but I fear Mr. Brand is.' killed." "Let's find out, the danger Is past,"' said Jack Lefoy as he strikes a match? on his riding pants and holds It up. Hon. John Brand was discerned in' the act of getting up. He had heard the magical words, "The danger ia past," and recovered his senses quickly. He) was likewise unwounded. "Oh," cried Ethel In disgust "Take me home, Jack Lefoy." The neert day Hon. John Brand went forth with hia valet to pastures newv Three months after thla, Bthst changed her name from Woodyett to Lefoy. Her Jack the real Jack, waa; able to satisfy Squatter Woodyett aa to hla future prospects, his father be ing the earl of May blossom and him self the eldest son. He never told his wife, however, even when ahe became Countess Mar- bloaaom, and would thua have forgiv. en her lord any trick for love a sweet sake, that he had been at school with Hon. John Brand, and, therefore, knew his peculiarities. Nor did he tell her that the natlvea were a friendly tribe whom he had bribed to act this little drama, so that he might win hla love.' Buffalo NewB. THE POLITE WAT. "Tee, Algernon, I will be your wlfer aha said almply. The heart of the bronted soldier biat' high with Joy. "Then you have not forgotten me?" he exclaimed. "I may have forgotten you, but t hope I haven't forgotten my manners r ahe replied, with something of haa- teur. Of course, it la always tha thing to comply with requests.
