Newspaper Page Text
By SAMUEL McCOY (Copyright, 1916, by Bobbs-Merrill Co.) An absorbing chronicle of stir ring events that grew out of the battle of Tippecanoe in the In diana wilderness a century ago Suppose that a man who hated you went to the girl you loved and told her you were a thief. If she believed the unwarranted ac cusation enough to ask you for an explanation, would you gife it? Or would you think that a girl whose faith in her lover was so weak as that didn't deserve an explanation? How David Larrence handled a problem of that sort is told in this installment of "Tippecanoe." David, you'll remember, had come all. the way from England to the frontier settlement of Corydon, Indiana territory, to kill an ene my. He makes friends with the Americans and falls in love with charming 'Toinette O'Bannon. Incidentally, he discovers that Job Cranmer Is a British spy plotting with hostile Indians against the whites. The last installment closed with Larrence at the Cranmer home, calling on Lydia Cranmer. Her father teases them coarsely about love-making. * CHAPTER VIII—Continued. David flushed with resentment at the man's coarseness, but he gave him a civil good night. He planned to watch the house and confront Cran mer when Lydia was not present. "You won't stay a bit longer? I've been kept overlong with the young men across the river—they're a set of Jolly dogs. You won't stay? Good night, mjr boy !" The man was evidently laboring un der an excitement not wholly due to wine; David had not taken a dozen steps when he Ward Cranmer burst out in an exultant whisper that was louder than he realized : "Well, daughter, my work is done!" "Hush !" said Lydia sharply, and drew him within doors. David stopped short in his tracks. There was not a moment to lose. Without doubt, Cranmer had finished his work as a spy and was ready to leave, laden with information that would be of value to the British, should war actually be declared. .What a Jolly, ingenuous guest the Kentuckians must have found him! in to to He set his Jaws firmly together and ' took a quick step toward the cabin. ; *It might not be too late. A thread of j (light shone from the crack of the heavy door. "Mr. Cranmer!'' he called. There was the sound of a chair moved hastily back from a table, and fthe figure of Cranmer was outlined in the candlelight. "Well?" he asked suspiciously. "I have forgotten a matter that 1 wished to speak to you about sir," said David. His voice was without a trace of agitation. There was a moment's pause. Cranmer peered Into the darkness. 1 "Well, if it's no great matter Til just step outside again." He closed the door behind him and came forward with hearty friendli ness in his voice: "What can I do for you, my lad?" David breathed a sigh of relief. It was time to come to action. * "I'll trouble you for those plans, Cranmer," he said quietly. The man recoiled a step and David heard him draw in his breath sharply. But the night hid his expression and he summoned a blustering: "Plans? What plans? Young man you choose a strange hour to joke in.' "You are well awa$e this is no joke, Cranmer. I want those plans of Fort Steuben.' . .. "Fort Steuben ! Well, damme, if this isn't impudence ! If you've some what to say, say it, and be done with what to say, say it, and be done with this foolishness." David took a step forward. "You know well enough what mean. I know that you afe here as one of England's spies. You have made notes concerning Fort Steuben. I want them." . An iLarticulate roar of iW bu«t from Cranmer. His voice shook with suppressed fury. . . „ "So that's what youve been doing, tou dirty whelp! Spying on me while pretended to court my daughter! I'U break you with my two hands, you " hI with raje »d hurl«! hi. 'hulk « Darid. But, with . Uthun«. 'newborn in the wilderness David his long ***** .. face The blow "T.ÏÏhrt Ä with the U.O hod, hehlud it. , „ orw went .down with a grunt -•-rbrrrc P 1 « tore open the man's waist WhllC #1 thrust his hand quickly into Äjr-JSÄ* — „ for one word from me, «-"TÄ eunrUe. But, tor and «jhteris sake, I'U give you a your dau ^ te U fe. Get out of tonight and Til hold these ^ You know where to gn-yow JLnds will find a hole for you 001 IgZtiïSJ* S " »rdld t aud 4* ^„ sorrow for the poor girl *Se^Xforeed Her with him Aameful road. When he ^evidence, sketches of *^*S£*hS« the frontier» de descriptions of the 8»mson of He folded them up carefully. and replaced them in his coat with a sigh. At dawn he set off again for Corydoa. But Cranmer tottered back into his daughter's room with the face of a dead man. "It's all up !" he cried in a ghastly whisper. "I must get away from here tonight. There's only one chance to win yet—you'll have to stay here, my girl; I'll see Scull tonight and set him upon this Lar rence; and if he succeeds in getting the plans back, you are to bring them an to me at Detroit. God, how came he to suspect ! You—did you—no, you're true ! Goodby ! Do as I bid you. Goodby! Scull will be over soon— he'll take care of you. I'm glad you are soon to be married." He strained the weeping girl to his breast and hurried away. A boat across the foaming river and a stumble through the dark brought him to Scull's door. A cautious tattoo summoned the man from his bed and the story was told, while terror seemed to fix its icy hands more and more deeply in Cranmer's throat with every hurrying moment. Scull looked at his white face and exulted secretly what do you expect me to do?" he asked coldly. A flash of his old truculence re turned to Cranmer. "Do?" he whis pered hoarsely. "There's but one thing for you to do, my pretty man. You will hove to get those plans back from that skulking rackabones. It's your own business how. Then give them to Lydia. You may think you've done a fine thing in giving up the work that you came here to do, but I promise you that England has a long arm. You'll not escape if you fail us." Scull shrank again from his menac ing gesture. His abject protestations of faithfulness fell hastily from his trembling lips, and the spy, with a growl of satisfaction, stole out again into the dark and silent night. At Vincennes, two days later, old "Horsehead" Gibson, the lieutenant governor, sat writing a letter to CppL Billy Hargrove, who was riding miles away in the wilderness at the head of a dozen forest rangers. The old man ' at his collapse. A seeming contempt ; for the man before whom he had so j often cringed filled his heart. "And a dozen forest rangers. The old man a of of X ÎMlîoà) VAtèATilNb "I'll Trouble You for Those Plans, Cranmer.* wrote slowly, with a hand more used to a rifle than a pen. The letter, when he had finished it, ran: Vincennes, Indiana Territory, July 29, 18U. For about ten days a man has been around Fort Steuben who had such good papers of recommendation that he was permitted to go where he Pleaeed and was all through the fort and barracks. He has disappeared and took with him a very fine saddle horse which belonged to Col. Luke Decker, together with a fine saddle and a pair of heavy pistols in the holsters. It was thought he went toward the Maumee river and may come near some of your stations. There is no doubt he Is a British spy and It te v«ry desir able to capture hlm. A descriptif» of him given by those with whom he was is: A heavy man, five feet ten Inches In height; would weigh about one hundred and eighty pounds; dark hair, black eyes, and he wore a fine velvet vest and a dark blue long-tailed coat, both ornamented with silver buttons. A pair of fine white dressed buckskin knee breeches with sil pled hat, made out of beaver skin. Have your men keep a good lookout for him. JOHN GIBSON, Acting Governor. By the hand of a friendly Delaware In dian. Return him in two days with any thing that you wish to say. CHAPTER IX. a a of Sacrifice. The tall young physician from Louis ville rode his sorrel mare into Corydon next day and drew rein at Patpice O'Bannon's door. Toinette, in the early morning sun shine, was rapturous bird-song made into woman, a flower dew-bright, a carol, an embodiment of earth's re joicing. She welcomed Elliott with a smile that made him wonder, with a ready vanity, if he had not been mis taken in the rebuff she had once ad ministered. If he had pressed her more hardily—did she really love Lar rence? Ah, if he could only drive the man out of Corydo* ! The black beast of his Jealous hatred rode on his back and he went straight to his purpose: "I have sad news for you, Toinette." The smile faded from her face and she looked at him with a slow alarm growing in her eyes. "It Is very hard for me to tell you. It Is about Larrence.", "David !" The name was wrung from her like a gasp. "I cannot believe the truth myself. You remember that I told you once that I suspected Larrence of being in league with the Englishman, Cranmer? I have learned the certain truth since then—Cranmer has fled and Larreçce is left to finish his work—the work of a spy!" "Who says this?" "Captain Bullitt at Louisville told me. It will be common talk In another day. I do not know what to do. have not slept all night. Only one thing has been clear to me—my love for you." "What part has that in this?" she asked proudly. Everything. It Is because I love you that I have come to you now. I— y 0U —told nie once that I could not hope ever to win you. I tried to turn you against the man I feared. But know now that my love for you is stronger than mere desire. I want you to be happy, even though I suffer. And so I have come to tell you first of alL No one here knows that Larrence is in England's servicê. Let it be known, and his life is forfeited, have come to give you the greatest gift that is in my power. I give you the life of this man. Warn him, and there is yet time for him to escape I shall be happy if you are happy. Only remember that I loved you, Toi nette !" The halting sentences seemed to come from the depths of his soul. He finished and stood before her humbly, his head bowed. God bless you," she said very God bless you," she said very softly. She spilled the precious ointment of her innocent faith in his words upon the dross of his heart. He raised his head and thanked her mutely, while his pulses leaped with exultation. She had believed him! But would she waril» Larrence ? He scarcely dared to hope as he whispered: If you will warn him ... at midnight my mare will be ht his door, ready to ride." But the girl answered In a voice that seemed to come from beyond the grave, so full of a soul's agony it was : "There will be no need . . . I' shall give him up. . . . Oh, David, David, David!" - He turned to hide th* mocking smile that lighted up his face. The girl's face had grown pale as the white rose she held In her hand. But she forced herself to go on—un hesitatingly, but In a voice frbm which all life had fled, so weighted with un utterable anguish it was: > "You had better inform Judge Boone at once." "You don't understand, Toinette. I shall not raise a finger against Lar rence. He shall never say I am re sponsible for his exposure. You alone In Corydon know his secret. It is for you to decide." "Go," she said quietly, "I will do my duty." "Have T done mine, Toinette? Do you forgive me?" "Yes, you have done well," she an swered mechanically. "I may see you again? Oh, Toi nette, let me still hope!" "I cannot answer now. But—■" her throat seemed to choke her and she was unable to finish. But through the young doctor's mind there flashed the belief that ho wo*ld yet make her his. She would forget Larrence—only let time heal the wound! He raised her hand to his lips, flung himself upon the red mare and was gone. To Toinette the next minutes were an unreal procession in which a girl named .Antoinette O'Bannon moved strangely upon her task, dry-eyed, steady-voiced. She saw this girl go down the lane to the tavern, where Ike Blackford sat deep in a book of law ; heard her ask him to go with her to David's store; saw him bow with unquestioning courtesy ; saw them cross the courthouse square and enter the little storeroom, just then empty customers; saw Dscld .avsoce is of be to He of his She she to at that the : I' as un I Lar re alone for toward them gravely, with the proud dignity he had worn since the day she had refused his love. She heard a voice speaking—was it her own? "I have brought Mr. Blackford to be a witness between us." The two young men looked at the girl in silent wonder. She swept on in the cold torrent of her resolution, checking their unspoken question with uplifted hand ; "We have known you but a little while, Mr. Larrence. You have made our home among us ; we have taken ou into our friendship. You have pre tended to become an American ; we have trusted you. befriended you, be V Slowly He Drew Out the Packet of Papers He Had Wrested From Cranmer. lieved In you. And you have repaid us ! The colled snake from which you saved me was less vile! Oh, I do not forget what you did ! It is that which makes what you have done all the more terrible. I owe you my life. You might have had it, If you had chosen. But you have chosen instead the lives of all these people In the wilderness— these settlers, these men who have never harmed you, these women, these little children. To betray them, who have only loved you, who have been your friends! To give them into the hands of England and to the knives of the Indians!" Her voice broke. At her first words Blackford's face had taken on an ex pression of amazement, which grew deeper and deeper as he listened and glanced from ene to the other of his two friends. Now, as her voice fal tered, his astonishment broke out: "Toinette, in heaven's name, what is the matter?" She answered wearily, listlessly, her voice sinking to a whisper, so th^t she seemed like an exhausted bird that Is scarcely able to skim above the waves of the sea: "He hai been here as a British spy !" Blackford started, then laughed in credulously. "Toinette, you're joking!" But she buried her face in her hands and spoke through sobs that shook her from head to foot. "Oh, if it were not true! . Ask him. . . ." Blackford turned to David. His friend had taken a step backward at Toinette's first rush of reproach and now leaned against the low counter, trembling, pale as one who has re ceived a mortal wound. The shock of her accusation coming on the heels of the very moment when he had isked his life to confront Cranmer, stunnéd him. Only his high, indignant pride rose against the sorry riddle—a stubborn pride which bade him listen to her wild charge In silence, holding himself in his angry conceit above the violence of contradicting her, above stooping to drag their love In the dust of quar rel. Blackford, striving to pierce be neath the mask of that white, tense face and the inscrutable eyes, cried out in alarm at David's silent accept ance of her words. "It's not true. Is it, David? My Blackford tried to laugh off his own alarm: "You two are playing some silly joke on me, of course. All right—I'll own you gulled me. Satisfied, Toinette?" Toinette threw back her head proud ly. The blue eyes that had so often danced with merriment were blazing sapphires. "Search him, Mr. Blackford," her voice rang out. "I do not doubt but you will find evidence enough to sat isfy you !" Ike's eyes looked into those of his friend with a passion of pleading for denial. But David's voice answered evenly, coldly: "There is no need to search. I pre sume that these papers are the ones •which M Iss O'Bannon wishes." And with steady fingers he unfas tened his coat and waistcoat, and, while Blackford gazed in horror, slow ly drew out the packet of papers he had wrested from Cranmer. He put them In Ike's hands and bowed to Toi nette with a touch of ironic courtesy. "You will find them all there," he said. at be My her but sat his for pre ones and, he put Toi he A single glance made Blackford real ize their meaning. "Oh, David, David 1" he cried. A thousand voices, the confused murmur of a mighty throng, seemed ringing in Toinette's brain, and she fought against a sickening giddiness that made the walls whirl around her. That is enough, Mr. Blackford?" she asked weakly; and on tottering knees she turned and left the two men alone. Surely you can explain this, Davy!" cried Ike; his faith in his friend clung to him in stubborn defiance of the doc uments' mute accusation. Do you think it necessary to ex plain?" said David harshly. The anger which he had withheld from Toinette had mounted slowly until now his iron will hud reached a white heat of furi ous resentment. "By God, I explain to no man !" Ike looked him straight in the eyes. "No mu» tn earth can use that tone to me,'' if said quietly, "—except you, David, old man." He laid his hand gently on his friend's shoulder and the angry light In David's eyes was suddenly quenched. "It isn't true," he said, and was si lent once again. "That's the only explanation you and I need, David," Ike answered with a grave smile; and David crushed his hand in a mighty grip. "Ike, you understand! You believe in me !" he cried in a voice that showed how cruel the strain upon his nervous pride had been ; and the two young men smiled straight into euch other's eyes. David had meant to keep his own counsel, but now the burden of his heart flooded over at Ike's trust in him. He told of what he had learned concerning Cranmer; told how he had come into possession of the secret agent's maps and documents. "I had already sent word to Vincennes to search for Cranmer," he said, "and I meant to take these papers there at the first opportunity. How Toinette guessed that I had them, I cannot un derstand. But, by heaven, Blackford, I can't explain to her ! Don't you- un derstand? I wanted her love. I thought she had given It to me. But if she doubts me, then—'' His voice faltered again. "She has worried herself over some rumor—poor -Toinette, she's strung to the breaking-point," said Ike gently. "I want you to do something for me, Ike," replied David, unheeding the ex cise. "I cannot stay in Corydon after this. I cannot be indebted to Mr. O'Bannon any longer. I must go." "You know best, Davy. It's not my business. But where?" "Vincennes, I suppose. I may as well stay on there, after I have de livered this evidence to General Gib son. It doesn't make any difference. But I want you to see Mr. O'Bannon and turn my accounts over to him. Will you do this for me, Ike?" "Willingly, Davy. But, oh. I'll hate to give you up !" "You're the best friend I ever had So I shall have to lose you, as I have lost everyone I ever loved." David smiled bitterly. "Davy, don't go! You'll win yet! She can't hold to this silly mistake, Why, I'll explain things to her! Go back, you sore-headed old bear, and—" But David checked him. "I shall never enter that house. And I forbid your speaking to her on this subject. Do not speak of her again." His tone was unyielding, final ; and grieving in silent sympathy for his friend's shattered hopes, Ike helped him close up the meager affairs of the little store and bade him good by. . . . To Ike remained no question of Da vid's honor ; but the poison of Elliott's words had found an abiding hold in the girl's heart. Toinette had reached her father's house she knew not how. She gained the harbor of her own chamber, closed the door, and sank upon her bed in a paroxysm of grief. She had saved the frontier from the traitor, she thought ; but she had broken her own heart. aid. "My and For TOO In dent buy The for she but for ed p, a a David's back was toward Corydon and all his hopes. His face was toward the north. The trace through the for est stretched away toward \ incennes and he marched along resolutely. There he handed over to the territo rial officers the plans that he had taken from Cranmer; had from them their blunt thanks, and found employ ment in the ancient trading house of the Spaniard, Vigo. How soon do you think David will forget Toinette and become smitter. with some pretty French lass in Vincennes? (TO BE CONTINUED.) Yes, Indeed. "Is your son fond of academic pur suits?" "I guess so. He's a pretty regular attendant at the billiard and bowling academy." Certainly Not. B 1 H—According to a court ruling the National Guardsmen in the field need not pay «alimony, jiU_Of course. Why should he be obliged to fight in two places at once? Thousands Tell It Why dally along with backache and kidney or bladder troubles? Thousands tell you how to find relief. Here s a case to guide you. And it's only one of thousands. Forty thousand Ameri can people are publicly praising Doan s Kidney Pills. Surely it is worth the while of anyone who has a bad back, who feels tired, nervous and run-down, who endures distressing urinary disor ders, to give Doan's Kidney Pills a trial. A Mississippi Case Mrs. John McDon- "hwy Plrtirt TtHnStai^ aid. 120 Beatty St.. Jackson. Miss., says: "My back gave out and at times 1 couldn't get around. When I stooped, sharp, cutting puins seized me In my back. My kidneys acted irregularly, too. For three years I suffered and nothing helped me until I got Doan's Kidney Pills. They helped me greatly, making my - kidneys normal and benefiting me in every way." Get Doan's at Av Store, 80c a Bo* DOAN'S «¥, IIV FOSTER-M1LB URN CO.. BUFFALO. N. Y. CROUP AT HIOHT is dangerous. It demands ~ ~ quick action. Just rufrthe child's throat and chest with Me nth-Alba The body heat creates a vapor which penetrates and relieves choking. Good for sore throat, inflamed tonsils, colds, coughs, catarrh, pleurisy and pneumonia. Twenty-five cents at druggists. 4 tP TOO MUCH FOR HIS COURAGE Student, Sent for One. Breakfast Roll, Found Himself in Position Which Caused Embarrassment. While visiting his married brother In New York recently, a Cornett stu dent was sent by his sister-in-law to buy one breakfust roll at the baker'*. The careful judgment displayed by hi* brother's wife in making both ends meet, with a little bit over each week for the bank, had long been a topic of conversation among members of the family, some of whom thought her poa sessed of great moral courage, because she would ask the grocer's clerk to wrap up two cents' worth of beans, a delicacy she fed to the cat. The college boy started for the shop, but his nerve forsook him at the mo ment when a demure little tiling be hind the couuiei inquired as to h!* immediate wants. Instead of asking for one roll he asked for a dozen. On his way back to his brother's apartment, which is on Central Park West, in the nineties, the sophomore'* nerve again forsook him. So he wait ed until he believed no one was look ing before throwing 11 of the rolls over the stone fence into the park.—New York Times. Before and After. "All Europe prepared for war for p, generation," said Henry Ford at a dinner. "Europe has now got what she prepared for. Anil look at her. "The picture of Europe before and after all this war preparation Is a dis tressing anil ugly one. It's as terrible a before-and-after picture as the one which wap described by a young Dear born bride. " 'Before our marriage,' she said 'George used to steal a kiss every time we passed through a tunneL now—' " 'Now he steals a nip out of hi* flask.' "—Philadelphia Bulletin. Chirnside, Scotland, has a novelty— a woman blacksmith. Instead o! Worrying about the high cost of living, just buy a pack age of Grape-Nuts —still sold at the same fair price. Enjoy a morning dish o% ^s delicious food, aftvt 'smile over the fact that you've had a good breakfast and Saved Money Isn't that a fair start for any day?