OCR Interpretation

The day book. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, July 16, 1912, Image 14

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1912-07-16/ed-1/seq-14/

What is OCR?

Thumbnail for

the trust, which has "beguiled you?
We await your final decision."
Barton stepped into the doorway-,
and the moon gleamed
whitely " upon, his night robe.
"Men," he said, "I cast my lot
some time ago. I cannot re
trace." Quickly came the climax to
concerted action. Barton, under
duress, was led into a clearing
Surrounded by a dozen figures.
A flash was followed by a flame,
and soon the sky assumed a lurid
hue, as a fortune in tobacco paid
tribute to the firebrand. A dis
tant shot pierced the stillness, and
with a shriek a young woman in
scant attire dashed from the
"My God, father! what does
this mean ?" as she fell upon him.
"These fiends, the night riders,
are burning the barn. I refused
their demands. What next, I fear
to tell."
The leader of the band ap
proached at this moment and
"We have now a second and
more painful duty to perfprm".
We demand your co-operation or
your crop will be. oil-soaked and
ruined. Then yodf home. There
is no alternative."
Another moan followed the im
pressiv&declaration and the white
hairs of the aged mother mingled
with the inanimate, heap that suc
cumbed on the 'threshold. Ten
der hands became Kusy. .
Minutes later two pairs of arms
embraced Barton's neck and two
voices pleaded with(him to save
home and neighbors-' friendship.
With straining eyes he saw. prep
arations going on for the repeti
tion of fire, at his doorway, and
with a despairing moan he sur
rendered : "I will abide."
Forty masked Beings surround
ed the trio in a kneeling circle,
and as the moon slipped behind
the clouds the chant arose:
"Oh, Father! We have been
sorely tried and possibly found
wanting. Forgive our sins ! Our
lights may not be yours, and we
are but plastic clay. Protect our
homes, and may Thy kingdom
In the gray dawn a silent cav
alcade wended its way townward
a drama of the dark tobacco
HBr Bv
"Oh, George, dear, think how
we'll worry about him when he
grows up and goes out into the
world. He will cost us many
sleepless nights, I fear."
"Hnh! If he can cost me any
more sleepless nights than he
does now he will have to go
Try an old paint brush to black
en the stove.

xml | txt