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The St. Charles herald. [volume] (Hahnville, La.) 1873-1993, February 03, 1917, Image 3

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TIPPECANOE
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?

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