Dakota farmers' leader., November 28, 1890, Image 6

About Dakota farmers' leader. (Canton, S.D.) 1890-19??

Image provided by: Minnesota Historical Society; Saint Paul, MN

                
A TERRIBLE SECRET
-OB-
The Curse of the More
lands.
BY LEON LEWIS.
CHAl'TElt II (Continued.)
How cordial and sympathetic, as well
as affectionate, wcro tlie relations of the
couple has already been made apparent.
They were like two brothers, despite
the difference in their ages.
"Let's see, Vance," resumed Mr. Wye
ville, after his cigar was well lighted,
"I have been with you to The Elms to
tea or dinner barely half a dozen times
and yet I know Mrs. Morelaud and Jes
sie better than you do. I told you the
girl would say you nay!"
"So you did, uncle," admitted Vance
with keen interest. "What can ha%'C
given you such a clear insight into the
situation?"
"Simply due attention to its facts," re
plied the uncle. "To begin with, was
not Jessie a sunny, light-hearted girl
when you first met her, on the occasion
of being called to treat her mother's
sprained ancle?"
"Yes, she was, uncle?"
"And since then the more she lias
learned to think of you the more she has
grown preoccupied and unhappy?"
"I must admit it!" replied Vance.
"She has a secret, then, which renders
her averse to marriage! Does she love
you?"
"Better than she loves her own life,
uncle," replied Vance, with a lover's
ardor. "About this there can be no
doubt!"
"And yet she rejects you!"
"That's because of some secret, as you
have already hinted."
"Do you propose to give her up, Vance?"
"Just about as much as I propose to
give up living, uncle."
"Or just about as much you would de
sert a patient who dismissed you in a
moment of raging delirium?"
"Exactly."
Mr. Wyeville uttered an ejaculation
of the liveliest contentment.
"I am glad to see you so sensible," he
said. "The trouble with that girl, as
with her mother—I have been studying
them both—is that they are almost in
sanely morbid over some personal blem
ish or deformity, and this feeling has
been aggravated by the solitary lives
they've been living. They see nobody
and return no visits. In a word, they
are in a most unhealthy and unnatural
state of mind, as the result of some
chronic affliction of the body, and the
business we now have in hand is to find
out what ails them and apply the neces
sary remedy. Are you their doctor,
Vance'"
"No, uncle. They have never said the
least word to me professionally outside
of that sprained ankle which first intro
duced me to them nearly a year ago."
"They've never even demanded the
usual tonics and powders of the interest
ing invalid?"
"Nothing of the sort, uncle."
"Nor any plasters or ointments?"
"No, uncle."
Vance mused a minute or two, with a
thoroughly puzzled air, and then added:
"They simply seem, to be worrying
themselves to death over some mysteri
ous fear or apprehension—heaven knows
what!"
"Which fear or apprehonsion has been
intensified by your appearanc.o on the
scene as a suitor for the girl's hand?"
"That's about the situation, uncle, as
unflattering as it is for this deponent."
"Let's comprehend just where we
stand, therefore. To begin with, the
girl has a secret?"
"Evidently something awful. But
what is it, uncle? What can it be?"
"I think I can tell you. You asked the
girl for her hand in marriage?"
"Yes, uncle."
"Well, she refused you because she has
mo hand to give."
"No—jxo hand?" stammered Vance, be
wildered.
"That's what's the trouble!" affirmed
Mr. Wyeville, with an air of intense
•conviction. The poor girl refused you
for the simple reason that she has no
hand to give you! Both mother and
daughter were born without hands!"
Vance Wyeville started as if shot at
this enunciation of his uncle's.
"And you never even thought of this—
.you a mcdicus?" pursued Mr. Wyeville.
"Never, my dear uncle!"
"And have never so much as suspected
anything of this kind?"
"Never!" returned Vance, with a pro
found preoccupation. "How—how was
it possible for any such suspicion to occur
to me? I have never noticed, during all
my acquaintance with these ladies, that
there is anything the matter with their
hands. To the contrary, I have seen
them engaged in all sorts of feminine
work, such as sewing and weeding flow
ers, not to speak of rowing, writing, fan
ning themselves, and almost any other
use of hands you may be pleased to sug
gest or mention."
"All of which has its value, I admit,"
commented Mr. Wyeville, "but all which
is entirely inconclusive. Permit me to
ask if you have never been struck by
the persistency with which both Mrs.
Moreland and Jessie wear gloves?"
"Certainly, as who hasn't?"
"Well, what explanation have you
given yourself in this matter?"
"To be candid, uncle," replied the
young physician, "I have never given a
great deal of thought to the peculiarity
in question. I happen to have a lady
patient at this very moment who has
worn gloves ever since I knew her, al
though she cuts off the fingers at the
last joint. The trouble with this lady is
a simple erysipelas, which leaves her
hands red and rough, scaly, even, and de-1
fies thus far all my attempts to eradicate
it."
"Well, Vance!"
"Well, uncle, I concluded, at an early I
stage of my acquaintance with Jessie and I
Mrs. Moreland, that they had some simi-1
lar affliction, and I had too much pro
fessional pride to be the first to refer to
it!"
"And so it has been left to me to give
you the solution of the enigma," ex
claimed Mr. Wyeville. "You must cer
tainly be aware, as a medical man, that
many persons have been born into this
world without hands?"
"I have read of such cases," replied
Vance, "although I never saw one."
"Then I have the advantage of you in
this respect," pursued Mr. Wyeville,
"for I have seen several. I remember one
man who was born without hands or
arms, but. who nevertheless became a re
nowned painter, holding his brush and
palette with his feet. Since that day,
however, the manufacture of artificial
limbs has become a wonderful science,
and theso poor ladies have evidently pur
chased the best there is in the market!"
"What! You think their hands are
artificial, Uncle Erastus?"
"Undoubtedly, my dear nephew—un
doubtedly.
The assertion seemed to come with im
mense force upon the young physician,
for he made no immediate attempt to
controvert it. Ho merely sot his teeth
hard together, while his eyes gleamed
with tender pity, and murmured invol
untarily:
"Poor Jessie!"
The silence that ensued lasted several
minutes.
"But, after all, this is only your sus
picion or suggestion, uncle?" Vance then
said.
"True, Vance. But what if it should
be truo? Would you marry Jessie More
land—always supposing she would have
you—if it should appear that she has no
hands?"
"Certainly, uncle." affirmed Vance
without an instant's hesitation. "What
ever may be her defects, if there is
enough of her to stand up or sit down in
the presence of a magistrate or clergy
man, and pronounce the one word, 'Yes,'
I would marry her."
CHAPTER-III.
JESSIE AND HE# MOTHEK.
OR a few minutes
^|r—q ^subsequent, to her
yhtf. terrible interview
/Sn? iP- III with her lover,
Jessio Moreland
lay in the arms of
her mother, at
first sobbing con
vulsively, and then
sinking into a pro
found quietude,
which was equally
the silence of ex
haustion and de
spair.
"Has he gone,
mamma?" she at
length asked, turn
ing her face toward the veranda and
listening.
"Certainly," was the answer. "He re
mained scarcely a moment after you left
him. You—you are not sorry you dis
missed him?"
"No, mamma. And now to take up
the burden of our lives on a now basis.
Let's complete our preparations and
start for Egg Island."
"That's now my one thought, Jessie."
"There are a dozen reasons why we
should not lose a moment," continued
the resolute girl, gaining her feet with
feverish impatience, while a flash of ex
citement crept into her checks. "In the
first place, we may expect Vance to be
here early in the morning, and I would
sooner die than go through another such
scene with him!"
There came a ring at the front door at
this moment, and it caused Jessie to
start violently and change color. Had
Vance como back?
"No, it's merely a young man from
Potter & Carpenter's," said Mrs. More
land, in response to Jessie's mute appeal.
"His arms are full of signs which he has
come to put up. I'll take a lantern and
show him where to put them, while you
close the house and light the lamps."
By the time Jessio had acted upon
these suggestions, her mother came back
to the sitting-room, remarking:
"I am glad the real estate people have
been so prompt. To see these signs
staring him in the face at the moment
of his proposed arrival 'will hardly be the
sort of welcome for which your Uncle
Eadd is looking."
"But it will be just what he deserves,
mamma," returned Jessie,'"and the fact
that The Elms is in the market will also
be a timely admonition to Vance. He
will realize that I am irrevocably re
solved not to marry him, and will turn
his thoughts into the only channel which
can bring him a lasting peace."
Leading the way to an adjoining bed
room Jessie bathed her face and eyes,
and passed a brush deftly over her wavy
hair.
"Let us now have a bit to eat,
mamma," she proposed with a mien that
was almost cheerful, as she drew her
mother's arm within her own, with fer
vent caress, and turned towards the din
ing-room. "I really had no appetite at
our usual supper hour, and I haven't a
great deal at present, but we must
think of our health and strength."
The couple were soon in their accus
tomed places at table with an excellent
repast before them, and with blinds
closed and curtains drawn, while a mel
low radiance was diffused around them
through the shades of a couple of large
kerosene lamps suspended from the
ceiling.
For a few minutes the meal progressed
in silencc^ both eating as an encourage
ment to the other rather than because
they had any appetite.
"My thoughts keep coming back to the
necessity of at least a brief absence," at
length remarked Jessie. "If I cannot
really expect Vance to remain away, it
is certainly too much for me to struggle
with his pleadings and with my own
feelings. Wtf must go."
"And not merely on his account," re
turned Mrs. Moreland, "but also and
particularly because of the threatened
intrusion of your Uncle Radd. Now that
he has found out where we live, it
would be useless for us to remain here
and receive him. No kindness of ours
could prevent him from getting drunk
and making an exhibition of himself in
this neighborhood. There is no question
of our remaining here to await his ad
vent. We must fly."
The more Mrs. Moreland thought
about the proposed advent of her broth
er-in-law, the more uneasy she became,
and it was not long before she resumed:
"There is a singular history involved
in my marriage, Jessie, and I think you
now ought to know it. I met your Uncle
Radd nearly a year before I made your
father's acquaintance. Radd professed
to be greatly smitten with me, and im
proved every opportunity of intruding
upon me. Intruding, I say, for I quick
ly made him know that I did not desire
his company. He nevertheless kept com
ing with such persistency as to provoke
a great deal of comment, besides inspir
ing me with the keenest terror and ap
prehension, and at last he presented
himself to me in such a state of intoxica
tion that ho could hardly keep his feet.
He not only fell into a furious passion
at my remonstrances but became violent
and threatening. Heaven only knows
what would have happened if your
father had not been near me at that mo
ment and hastened to give me his pro
tection."
It was the first time Jessie had ever
heard these facts, and they naturally
possessed a strange fascination far her.
"The acquaintance thus begun," pur
sued Mrs. Moreland, "was duly continued
with grateful respect 011 my side, and
with devoted affection on the part of
your father, until he asked to marry
liim."
"And you refused?"
"I did, although I don't remember ever
speaking of that fact to you. But Wal
ter Moreland loved me too well to take a
negative answer, and he was destined to
be favored by circumstances, as you shall
hear. To be brief, Radd made a reso
lute attempt to carry me off, with the
aid of one of his cronies, a ruffian named
Hutchley, who was as drunken and law
less as himself. The couple would have
certainly got away with me, despite my
desperate resistance, if it had not been
for the timely intervention of your
father."
"And soon after this event you mar
ried him?"
Mrs. Moreland assented.
"And have you ever regretted doing
so?"
"Certainly not," answered the mother,
as soon as she had recovered from the
surprise caused her by the question.
"Your father was one of the best and
kindest of men. Not strong-willed and
positive, like Vance and his uncle, but
good, thoughtful and devoted. I was
not only contented with liim but happy.
Only too briefly happy,» she added, as
her eyes filled with tears, "for he was
taken ill soon after your birth,and died
the very day you were four moitths old."
"Poor papa!" breathed Jessie. "How
often I have wished he could have been
spared to us. How much I would have
loved him!"
"For a year or two after your father's
death," resumed Mrs. Moreland, "I saw
very little of your Uncle Radd, who, de
prived of his brother's advice and assist
ance, went to the bad rapidly. I heard
of him from time to time, but he was
generally at some distance from home,
he having entered upon the vagabondish
career ho has ever since been following,
but at length ho came back to renew his
persecutions."
Jessie remained all attention.
"fortunately I was ready for him,"
continued Mrs. Moreland. "I had long
had the keys of The Elms, and had been
quietly endeavoring to find a tenant or
purchaser for it, but your Uncle Bar
ton's affairs in India had prospered to
such an oxtent that he felt able to give
us the placfy an$ he did so, urging me
repeatedly to take possession of it. To
comply with these injunctions seemed
the best way of escaping the persecu
tions' of Radd Moreland, and I accord
ingly gave him the slip and came here
with you."
Jessie drew a long breath of relief.
"I have stated these facts, Jessie,"
finished the mother, "that you may have
a clear comprehension of the situation.
That man has at last discovered where I
am, and his one thought is to force him
self upon us for the rest of his days. He
writes me that I am the 'only woman he
has ever loved,' and that I am the 'reali
zation of his life's ideal.' What can be
done with such a man? A retreat to
Egg Island for a few weeks is the only
way of getting rid of him."
CHAPTER IV.
RADD MORELAND.
N involuntary
a
from a concealed
is
one of the win
dows- of the din
a
4
which had been
loft slightly rais
ed for the sake
of fresh air—but
this ejaculation
was made in such
an inaudible-tone
that it did not
reach the hear
ing of the moth
er and daughter.
This intruder
was of such sin­
gular and sinister aspect, even as seen
in the imperfeet light struggling out
upon him, that almost any one encoun
tering him would have formed a very un
favorable impression of him.
His coat was patchcd and ragged, and
had been browned by the suns and rains
of many a year, while his pantaloons
looked as if they had sustained the brunt
of many a skirmish with watch-dogs.
Undersized,, and at least fifty years of
age, as was only too plainly announced
by his long gray beard andi bushy hair,
he was nevertheless possessed of a wiry,
well-knit frame, and the very steps by
which he had reached his concealment
were sufficient to indicate- that he was
strong and active.
His face was red and bloated, without
having lost its natural sharpness and
regularity, and its every feature was a
living indication of the dissipation and
depravity of its owner.
This man, it is hardly necessary to
add, was no other than Radd Moreland.
He had been hanging around the house
ever since twilight set in, and had over
heard the various "golden opinions" of
Mrs. Moreland and Jessie concerning
him, with what grim satisfaction need
not be stated.
Seeing all they were doing and hearing
all they said, he could afford to be pa
tient.
"We will of course go to Egg Island In
our sloop," remarked Jessie,' after a
thoughtful pause. "The moon will be
up at ten o'clock, and the night is
charming, with the wind in our favor.
How much better to get away quietly
than to toss in sleepless misery upon our
beds till morning!"
"I agree with you, my dear child," re
turned Mrs. Moreland. "What you need
now is something to do—just such a task
as it will be for you to take the sloop up
the lake. After the excitement we have
had for the last twenty-four hours, we
shall not be able to sleep until we are
thoroughly worn out."
"Or until we have found that peace
which only a change of scene can bring
us," supplemented Jessie. "How impa
tient I am to be gone!"
A singular and undefined sound
reached the hearing of the ladies at this
moment, causing Jessie to raise her hSkid
warningly, while Mrs. Moreland sus
pended her breathing and listened.
"What can that be, mamma?" whis
pered the daughter.
Mrs. Moreland stirred uneasily in her
chair, looking around sharply as she an
swered:
"We're nervous, I suppose. This is
not the first time I have heard that
sound, or something like it. For several
days past I have been unable to put away
from me the thought that the house is
haunted."
"Haunted, mamma!"
"Yes. I have heard such singular
sounds at all hours of the day and night
since last Monday."
"What sort of sounds?11
"Why, footsteps, whisperings, more
men ts, and the opening and shutting of
doors," explained Mrs. Moreland. "Mere
nervousness, you may say, but I cannot
forget that The Elms had stood empty
ten years when your Uncle Barton pur
chased it just before his departure for
India, nearly twenty years ago, and was
even then popularly believed to be
haunted. My brother was also told that
there is an underground passage from
the cellar to the lake, although I have
never been able to find any tracc of it."
"Why, in that case," suggested Jessie,
looking startled, "may not the noise we
have heard be caused by human intrud
ers? Did Uncle Barton ever live here?"
"Certainly several months."
"Then he may have discovered the
'underground passage' referred to, and
wouldn't it bo splendid if Uncle Barton
shoiuIcT take it into his head to come
home suddenly and secretly, and get into
the house without our knowing anything
about it, and take a good look at us be
fore showing himself?"
"Oh, yes that would be very nice,"
replied Mrs. Moreland, with a smilo and
a sigh, "but your Uncle Barton is rather
too practical for that sort of perform
ance. It's far more likely that a gang
of tramps or other marauders may be
making free with The Elms by means of
the secret passage."
The suggestion of Mrs. Moreland gave
Jessie a positive shock.
"Let's be offj" she proposed, laying
down her knife and fork abruptly. '"I
shall never dare sleep here again!"
"Oh, thoro's no necessity of being
quite so nervous," assured Mrs. More
land. "Even if such persons wore to in
trude upon us, they would have every
motive for keeping as shady as possible.
Then, again, even if there is a secret
passage from the cellar to the lake, it is
by no means likely that there is a secret
passage between the cellar and the rest
of the house." You can finish your
supper."
"I have had all I want, mamma," re
turned Jessie. "Besides, the voyage
Wjll not be a long one, and we can take
along with its a good basket of lunch."
"Well, I am not so hungry as to need
to linger here longer," declared Mrs.
Moreland, as she arose and set about
clearing off the table, "and the sooner
we are off the better."
The words were immediately followed
by a brisk ring at the door.
The ladies started nervously, exchang
ing questioning glances.
Was the newcomer Vance? Was he
Radd Moreland? Or who could he be at
that hour, considering how rarely The
Elms had received a visitor, other than
the young physician and his uncle?
As the couple stood undecided, almost
holding their breath, the ring was re
peated.
Seizing a lamp, Mrs. Moreland led the
way to the door, which she cautiously
drew ajar.
"Oh, it is you, Mr. Sheen?" she ex
claimed, with a polite bow at sight of
the visitor.
"Yes, ma'am. Here's a letter for
you," extending it. "I was coming this
way, and thought I would take the
liberty of handing it in, as you seemed
to be so anxious when you inquired this
morning."
"Many thanks, Mr. Sheen."
The thoughtful and good-natured vis
itor was already turning away, the
young lady he was waiting upon residing
near by, and Mrs. Moreland had barely
time to return his good-night before he
vanished.
"Such an incident as this shows me
how much my ncrvos are weakening,"
remarked Mrs. Moreland, as she closed
the door. "I am all in a tremble!"
"So am I, mamma!" returned Jessie.
"And just because a postoffice clerk
comes a few steps out of his way to give
us a letter hepresumes we are anxiously
awaiting!"
"Which isn't, after all,, the letter we
were so anxious about—your Uncle Bar
ton's," observed Mrs. Moreland, glancing
at it. "It's from Mrs. Barnett."
It was with a nervous hand that Mrs.
Moreland opened the letter,, and with a
puzzled air that she entered on its peru
sal, but her face quickly brightened.
It was in every respect such a letter as
a long-trusted and faithful housekeeper
would write, reporting the state in which
she had found the cottage at Egg Island,
and what measures she and the chamber
maid had taken to prepare it for occu
pancy. It contained a number of
thoughtful suggestions, and concluded
with the hope that the mother and
daughter would arrive as promptly as
possible.
"It's a relief to find that they are all
right," commented Mrs. Moreland, as
she folded the letter and thrust it into
her pocket. "It is also pleasant to reflect
that we have such a comfortable retreat
at our disposal. Let's put everything to
rights here- in the courso of the next
hour and take our departure."'
"But ought we not to make- some ar
rangement about the letter we expect
from Uncle Barton?" asked Jessie, as the
couple resumed the task of clearing the
table.
"Yes, we ought," returned the mother.
"What a pity that we did not speak to
Mr. Sheen when he was here. But I can
drop a line from our new address
to have
the letter forwarded. That will suffice."
Little more was said until, everything
at The Elms had been put ini order for
the proposed absence.
"What do we need to take- with us?"
then asked Jessie.
"Nothing more than our toilet and per
sonal effects," answered Mrs* Moreland,
"and they will all go into that solid leather
portmanteau, which we can readily
carry to the boat between us. Let's pack
it now!"
This task was quickly exe«uted.
"Of course there is some risk in leav
ing so many valuables about, with no
one in the house," remarked Mrs. More
land, "but I have requested the young
man from Potter & Carpenter's to keep
an eye on the place, and ho expects to be
here often to show the premises, so that
there is no occasion to fret about any
thing we leave behind us. The distance
is scarcely a hundred miles, and we
ought to arrive at an early hour to-mor
row. If we don't, we can go ashore at
Bayside, or elsewhere. But we shall
need extra wraps, as there will doubtless
be quite a chill in the air between now
and morning. Let's make a final tour of
the house now, to see that all doors are
locked, and all fastenings in their places.
[TO BE CONTINUED.)
ASymmetrical Fact.
The world is full of people who go
about fighting windmills and wasting
effort in struggling with imaginary
evils, but the man who attends to his
own business, reads the right kind of
a newspaper, and paya the cash for his
groceries is the one with whom pros
perity loves tc TQost.—The Barn's
Horn. I
J. ANDERSON.
CANTON,
Practices in aU the Courts of the State.
Notarial and Colleotion Business given care
ful attention.
CANTOS, SOUTH DAKOTA
N. C. STUBBERUD,
Canton, Lincoln count}', keeps a full line
of Mens, "Womens and childrens shoes
for summer and winter wear,
that sell cheap.
O. T.
G. SATRANttA
—DEALER IX—
Groceries, Provisions, Crockery, Glassware,
Boots and Shoes,
TliiliSiffn
CAMED000DS,
VEGETABLES,
Call sunci our jjprnA&s.
Main St., ^Bdn, S. D.'
Wholesale and Retail Furniture,
Sewing Machines and Organs.
FURNITURE OF ALL KINDS, which we are prepared to fur
nish at prices lower than the lowest
ANDERSON BROS.,
CANTON, SOUTH ^DAKOTA.
THE PIONEER JEWELRY STor-*
EstaNisM 18(1 ». SYVMI), Prop.
Watches, Clocks, Jewelry and Silverware, Mnsieal Instruments.
Fine watch repairing a specialty. All work
warranted.
Thos. T. Brady,
of Beresford, will make
Special Prices To Farmers,
On a bill of goods. Call and see him.
M. E. RUDOLPH,
Attorney at Law.
:-iv
P. J. ANDERSON.
*•9
SOUTH DAKOTA
Farmers Trade Spec:
HOTEL AND REST
A. D. HYMER, Prop.
Board by day or Week. Meals 25c
CANTON, SOUTH DAKOTA.'
C3-. O. Bray,
—Proprietor of—
HE GATE CITY LIVERTJ
Keeps a first class outfit of livery rigs of every
description. One of the best equipped
barns in this state. Sale and
boarding- department in
connection.
G. END 5th ST., CANTON, S. D.
T. L. Torgeson,
Beresford,-South Dakota,
—DEALER IN—
Dry Ms ami lotions,
Groceries, Boots and Shoes.
Motto "Square dealing." Come in and look
us over.
B. Schmidt & Co.,
Beresford, South Dakota
Dealers in all kinds of Heavy and Shelf
Stoves, Tinware Barb wire, Paints, Agricultural Impliments etc.
Give us a call and we will guarantee you prices.
Owns this space. He handles a large vari
ety of farm machinery, mowers, reaper^
binders, Aultman & Taylor threshers, hullers
and engins, corn plows, stirrings plows, and
all kinds of binding twine, oils and repairs.,
If you call on him for what you want in the
machinery line he will treat you well and
supply your wants according to hoyle.
0. T. HEUGERSON.
r~-.-