Water Valley progress., December 05, 1903, Image 6

About Water Valley progress. (Water Valley, Miss.) 1882-1918

Image provided by: Mississippi Department of Archives and History

                
The Water Valley Progress
s. 15. BROWN! I»u5'!ishcr..
WATER VALLEY. : MISSISSIPPI.*
fc THE KID’S fc
HOME-COMING. >
BY MARGUERITE STABLER.
WHEN the usual quantity of bacon
and beans had been consumed
and the leavings cleared up by Yank,
the men lit their pipes and proceeded
to review the details of the recent mur
der at Rattlesnake Bar. This subject
stimulated thought and loosened
tongues as nothing else could possibly
have done.
“You can see the whole business was
a tenderfoot job,’’ opined Pike, the
cook, sousing his kettle into the creek,
“or he’d never ’a’ left them pigeon
toed tracks.”
And thereupon arose a spirited dis
cussion as to what the object of the
shooting might have been—theft or
revenge. Each man urged his own ar
gument, until the discussion waxed
hot, handled in the hard, brutalized
manner that comes from the mind in
ured to such occurrences in a communi
ty jvhere might makes right and the
crack of a revolver is undisputed law.
With a deeper disgust than ever for
everything about this camp life,..the
Kid pushed back from the circle and
slipped away. Into the ravine he
struck, then straight up the mountain
where tier upon tier the tall pines
girded the hillside till the sharp, black
outlines of the topmost row stabbed the
burning sky.
Jamison was called the “Kid” by his
companions only from custom. Ijlis
weather-beaten, haggard countenance
bore no suggestion now of immature
youth. Yet this same gaunt, hairy
fellow was the fair-skinned, ruddy
tenderfoot who had cast his lot with
them a few years before, and been ever
since the butt of every practical joke
and low, cunning trick their idleness
might, devise. For the Kid could not
cook “sock-eye,” or wield a crow-bar,
cv drive a pack-train, or carouse, or
even swear, worth speaking of; and
the things he could do, and do well,
were not the accomplishments needed
in prospecting and panning.
Still pulling himself up by the stubby
chaparral, the Kid climbed, leaving the
camp and its associations as far behind
as possible. At last the world was lost
below him, the distant cry of a moun
tain lion and the thick, flat track where
a rattler had slid through the red dust
were the only reminders of a fellow
inhabitant. When safe from the intru
sion of bacon and tobacco fumes, and
the suggestions of camp life that came
with them, he drew from the bosom of
bis flannel shirt a bulky little packet,
and the next blissful moment was
thousands of miles from the sordid life
about him. He closed his eyes to see
a stately colonnade of tall white hol
lyhocks leading up to a vine-clad
porch, the air grew heavy with the
breath of honeysuckles, and on the
steps, under the clustering yellow
roses——
A sharp, fierce yap from Yank smote
his ear and broke the spell. With a
bound he was on his feet and off again,
in search of a still rarer atmosphere,
for he was reading in a precise little
schoolma’am hand:
I have read your letter over and over
till I know it all by heart, and all day
long I tell myself you will be home next
month, and all night long I dream of our
meeting, but even then It seems too good
to be true.
And so on to the middle ot the fif
teenth page, confessing the pain of the
long weary waiting she had never
spoken of until the end was in sight.
A great wave of pity rose in his
heart for the fellows down at the
camp. There had never been any sym
pathy between them, for he had felt
their inimical attitude, and had let
them alone as much as he could. But
his luck had greatened his heart, and
the poor devils at the camp seemed
for the first time a good-natured, hard
working lot. Many of them, he knew,
had left their homes with the same
hopes and promises that had hallowed
his life, and been less fortunate than
he. He'had seen them, whose every
hope was staked on some claim, work
ing early and late in a frenzied de
termination to wrench a fortune out
of the earth, grow bent and old in dis
appointment and despair. He had
seen men who were “making it,” and
whose prospect of going home with a
goodly pile was growing surer every
day, through the might of John Barley
corn lose fortune, hope, manhood. He
had seen men, single-minded as him
self in making a stake and returning
to make a home for some waiting one,
die of exposure and overwork in their
zeal to accomplish their end. While
he, although his stake was too modest
to be called a strike, was now able to
go home and claim his reward.
Again the breath of honeysuckles
seemed f> blow strong upon him as he
read, at ti» end of the twenty -seventh
page:
And I shall meet you where we parted,
at the turn of the lane, where you shall
give your whistle as you did when we
were children, and I will answer back.
We will go home together, you and I,
under the willows along the stream, and
if It should be twilight when you come,
it will not matter if for once we loiter
a little oiv the way.
The yap of Yank was now too far
below to reach him, but Yank was do
ing his .best to make himself "heard,
and the smoking and talking in the
camp had taken on a new energy. An
excited posse had ridden over from
Rattlesnake Bar and stopped in front
of the Round Tent saloon.
“The tracks were the freshest along
the creek,” the spokesman of the posse
was saying as he dismounted, “and if
he didn’t come through this camp he’d
’a’ had to go all the way ’round by
Jimtown,” eyeing the group of idlers
as if they might'all have a charge of
which to clear themselves.
“And it was a turrible bungling job,
anyways,” chipped in Pike, thereby
exonerating himself from suspicion, for
he had a reputation for adeptness in
that line.
“Unless he done it that way a pur
pose to throw ’em off.” suggested a
bystander with more meaning in his
tone than was wholesome for Pike.
The spokesman of the posse noticed
this insinuation, and Pike, under his
beard, went white about the gills.
“If it’s a tenderfoot you’re lookin’
for this camp aint a likely place to find
one,” Pike said, pridefully. “We’ve
only got the Kid, but I wouldn't say a
word agin him.”
“We tracked the man a good way
from the cabin,” the speaker contin
ued; “we know the size of his boot and
that he toes in,” keeping an eye on
Pike, “and it’s a pretty safe guess he
came from this direction.”
Pike’s mention of the Kid had
seemed so preposterous no one had
taken it up, but when toeing in had
been suggested, several of the miners
exchanged glances, for the Kid’s
pigeon-toed gait had been one of their
oldest gibes.
“Where’s this here kid?” demanded
one of the Rattlesnake men.
“H# lit out when he heard you corn
in’ and struck into the woods,” Pike
hastened to say. And nobody remem
bered he had gone half an hour before
the posse arrived.
“Oh, now don’t you go to sayin’ the
Kid would do a thing like that,” Pike
continued, generously. “You see he
has just struck a little pocket, least
ways, he says he’s struck a pocket,”
with a grin, “and he's hustlin’ lickety
split to get the next steamer. Lord,
I wouldn’t never suspect the Kid of
such a thing,” added Pike, nice, kind
Mr. Pike, driving the first nail secure
ly into the Kid’s coffin.
“Who is this fellow?” the Rattle
snake men then asked. And the infor
mation was pieced together that no
body knew much about him; that he
kept a good deal to himself, and had
been seen to strike out into the woods
on the day of the murder; that he
worked his own claim, and didn’t have
a “pardner;” that lately he had seemed
to have more money than usual; that
he had told several of the boys he was
about to pull up stakes. Yes, on the
whole, now you come to look at it that
way, a rather suspicious character!
And Jamison, the while, saw noth
ing but the tall white hollyhocks, the
moonlight filtering through the rose
thatch on the soft hair of the girl
whose clear deep eyes answered his
steadily, thought for thought. A mer
ciful purple mist arose in the ravine
below, wrapping the colony of tents
in a temporary oblivion, and shutting
him in with his lost paradise. A baby
grosbeak fluted a drowsy call above
his head, and from under the log on
which he sat a sly little woodrat sal
lied forth for a nocturnal raid. The
crimson glow in the west was spent,
and a stealthy twilight gleamed over
the tree-tops. Jamison strained his
eyes to read the last few lines on the
thirtieth page:
This is the last letter I will have to
write you, and the gladness of our meet
ing makes these long years of waiting
almost worth while, for every thought
has been with you, every hope has been
for you, and every day has seemed an
eternity until I shall see you. But now
that the suspense is almost over, I can
be patient, and our meeting, when It
does come, will be the sweeter for its
long postponement.
Soever before bad she made such a
full confession to him. Her staid New
England tongue had never known how
to frame impassioned words. He
closed his eyes to shut away the in
trusive objects about him, and tried
to close his ears to the intrusive sounds
of hoofs on the trail below. Knowing
he was safely out of sight, he waited
impatiently, but, as he listened, instead
of dying away the sounds came nearer,
straight up the hillside, for those were
the days when El Dorado county was
young and trails were scarce, and any
pony that couldn’t cling like a fly to a
rocky embankment and jump oyer
fallen trees was not worth a load of
buckshot.
Jealous of his solitude and impatient
of this interruption, the Kid rose
again and started for the other side
of the mountain, but the pine needles
made such a thick carpet he had mis
calculated the distance of the horse
men. Before he had taken a dozen
steps a volley of shots struck the trees
around him, and "HoM!” the ring
leader of the posse shouted. This in
trusion seemed almost a desecration
to the presence of his precious letter,
and before turning to face the crowd
he thrust it hastily into his shirt.
“Throw up your arms!” the voice
again commanded. "Then walk ten
paces!”
The original Rattlesnake posse, aug
mented by as many more excitement
seekers from the camp in the ravine,
lined up in a double column, leaving a
space for the Kid to walk between
them.
“Gentlemen,” the spokesman an
nounced, solemnly, “you kin all see he
is pigeon-toed.”
Jamison, looking at the familiar
faces in the crowd, wondered if this
were some clumsy joke, and admitted
cheerfully enough the Incontestable
fact that he did toe in.
“Now don’t make up your minds too
quick about this, boys,” Pike spoke up;
“I reckon them papers he hid in his
shirt when we come up will prove hjs
innocence.” Pike's ferret-like eyes had
been the only ones to detect that move.
His precious letter in the hands of
thjs gang of ruffians! Never! “No,
boys,” the Kid said, positively, “what
ever you may want with me can have
nothing to do with these papers.”
This stand on the Kid’s part seemed
to make the chain of. circumstantial
evidence complete in the minds of his
pursuers.
“Ff them papers ye sneaked out o
sight when we caught ye is straight,
I guess ye won’t mind handin’ ’em
over,” Pike taunted.
“I tell you, you are not going to see
these papers,” the Kid repeated,
fiercely.
“We won’t, hey?” said Pike, and be
fore Jamison had a chance to duck,
Pike’s brawny right had landed him a
soothing blow.
‘‘Here now, boys, be peaceable,” in
terposed the ringleader from Rattle
snake, “all we want is to see justice
prevail in these parts and we want to
be peaceable about it.”
It wras growing late; the pursuing
party had had a long ride, and they
were in a hurry. Lawlessness had
been running riot long enough, they
were all agreed, and summary justice
wreaked on the head of the first avail
able miscreant would be a wholesome
example for a long time to come.
“Wall, now, whoever would ’a’
thought that of the Kid?” exclaimed
Pike, in well-feigned surprise, draw
ing an incriminating bank-note from
somewhere, and displaying it to the
crowd. And the boys from the camp,
who had known him best, looked sor
rowfully at this proof of the Kid’s
guilt.
Jamison rode back to camp at the
head of the party, while the ringlead
ers dropped back, and weighed his
case. From the testimony gotten from
the men around the Round Tent he
was recognized as a suspicious charac
ter. “Yes, a tumble dangerous feller,’*
Pike ventured, seeing the scales turn
ing against him. He had certainly
been caught running away; the papers
hidden in his shirt were, of course,
one of the missing rolls of bank-notes
known to have been in the murdered
man’s cabin; fie was pigeon-toed, as
were also the tracks leading from the
cabin.
There was no guard-house at the
camp, nor secure tent even, so as a
matter of expediency the men lined up
into a hollow square. A gnarled old
oak stretched its gaunt arms across
the creek that babbled down the hill
side, and under this the party stopped.
The grinning moon hung low over thei
ghastly scene, and a few faint stars
peeped out and shivered with the hpr
ror of it all.
Time was pressing. The Rattle
snakers had a night’s ride ahead of
them, so no time was lost on prelim
inaries.
*****
When the rigid body of the Kid was
cut down next night. Pike, honest,
justice-loving Mr. Pike, still fearless
lest the murder might be traced up
to him, managed to secure the dead
man’s much-treasured papers which
still were concealed in his shirt.
Later, when he stealthily consigned
the letter to the camp-fire, he glanced
hurriedly at the thirtieth page, still
bearing the imprint of Jamison’s hand,
and chuckled as he read: “Our meet
ing, when it does come, will be all the
sweeter for its long postponement.”—
San Francisco Argonaut
In the Same Boat.
Feeling that it was his duty to re
monstrate with one of his clergy for
attending a fox hunt, the bishop had
an interview with him.
“Well, your lordship,” the offender
replied, “I really do not see that there
is any more harm in hunting than in
going to a ball.”
“I presume,” answered his lordship,
“that you refer to my name having;
been down among those who were
present at Mrs. De Vaux’s ball, but 1
assure you I was never once in the!
same room as the dancers throughout!
the whole evening.”
“That, my lord, is exactly my posi
tion. During the hunt I was never ia
the same field as the hounds.”
The bishop collapsed and sllenca
reigned.—Stray Stories.
/
V
There is a quality added to the
cake and biscuit by the Royal Baking
Powder which promotes digestion.
This peculiarity of “ Royal*’ has been
noted by physicians, and they accord
ingly endorse and recommend it.
Royal Baking Powder is used in
baking by the best people everywhere,
ROYAL BAKING POWDER CO., NEW YORK.
JUDICIAL DIGNITY.
Was Maintained In This Instance At
Cost to the Court of the
Prisoner.
A certain squire of the city, who betrays
his patriotism by presiding in a small of
fice painted red, white and blue, had a
case before him the other day which at
tracted an unusual crowd to the temple of
justice. A young fellow was up before him,
relates the Pittsburg Dispatch, on a charge
of stealing brass, and his friends were out
in full force to see that he got a fair
show.
Before the case opened the noise and
confusion became so great that his honor
declared that the next man to indulge in
any unusual outbreak would be ejected
from the room. He had hardly ceased
speaking when a young man shouted, at
the same time waving his hat above his
head:
“Hooray fur Squire Hooligan!”
“Put him out,” roared the court, and in
another instant the young man found him
self being rushed to the door. Order hav
ing been restored once more, his honor or
dered that the prisoner be brought before
the bar for trial. The court officer hur
riedly glanced about through the crowd
and then a great light suddenly fell upon
him.
“Can’t do it your honor,” he replied.
“The young fellow you just put out was
the prisoner/*_^
THE “400” AND THE ZOO.
An Alliance Which Some Peraona
Were Conaummateljr Ignorant
About.
“Some people, said the Philadelphia
woman, according to a New York ex
change, “have a queer idea of wh^t the
‘400’ does, and it does queer things, good
ness knows, without having things it
doesn’t do laid to it.
“I was going through the zoo the other
day with a friend,” she went on, “and
while we were standing before a cage in
the lion house my companion turned to me
and asked:
“ ‘I wonder who keeps all this up?’
“Before I had a chance to reply, we were
both astonished to hear a deep Irish voice
reply:
“ ’Sure, madam, it’s the society.'
“We turrad and beheld as healthy •
looking specimen of the working woman
as ever I laid eyes on.
“ ‘The society?’ questioned my compan
ion, in a half amused way. ‘What soci
ety?’
“The washerwoman looked us all over
with contempt; then she blurted out:
“ ‘The society—the society! What nin
nies ye are! Sure, an’ haven’t ye ever
heard of the “400’*—the society of Noo
York? That’s the society that keeps this
here place up!’
“And with that she turned on her heel
and left we two ignoramuses staring in
blank amazement after her retreating
bulk.” __
Dish Washing In Winter.
Housekeepers naturally dread dish wash
ing in winter, owing to the fact that ft
chaps the hands and renders them hard
and rough. Much of the injury, however,
results from the use of impure soap. If
Ivory soap is used in washing dishes and
the hands are carefully rinsed and dried,
,hey win Iff Anor k. pArker.
Young Salt—“How’s the fish bitin’ to
day, uncle?” Old Salt—“With their
mouths, as usual, youngster.”—Harvard
Lampcon. _
Stop* the Congh,
and works off the cold. Laxative Bromo
Quinine Tablets. Price 25 cents
Reward of Economy.
Kwoter—What’s that old saying? “Take
care of the pennies and—”
Newitt—And the dollars will take care
of your heirs.—Philadelphia Press.
Piso’s Cure for Consumption is an infalli
ble medicine for coughs- and colds.-—N. W.
Samuel, Ocean Grove, N. J., Feb. 17,1900.
The richest purse often has the poorest
contents.—Town Topics.
June Tint Butter Color makes top of
the market butter.
Virtue and happiness are twin sisters.—
Chicago Daily News.
Significant.
Margaret's father and'mother, whose home
w as in New York city, had arranged to take
a long talked of trip to Chicago. The night
before they were to start on their western
expedition Margaret’s mamma told the lit
tle girl that she must go to bed early, as she
would have to be up hy daylight the next
morning.
Margaret very obediently consented to
prepare for bed. When her dress had been
taken off and her nightie put on, she knelt
to say her prayers. She closed her petition
as follows:
•‘Goodrby. God! Good-by, angels! Good
by! Good-by! I’tn going to Chicago to
morrow!”—Woman’s Home Comj>anion.
^ Glad Caller.
Mistress--Did anyone call while I was
out, Jane?
Jane—Yis, mum. Wan gintlemin wus
afther callin’, mum.
“What was his name?”
“Moik O’Rafferty, mum, an’ he wus as
glad to foind yez out as he wus to foind
me in, Oi’m thinkin’, mum.”—Chicago
Daily News.
QUICK RESULTS.
W. J. Hill, of Concord,
N. C., Justice of the
re ace, says:
“ Doan’s Kidney
Pills proved a
very efficient
remedy in my
case... I used
them for disor
dered kidneys
and backache,
from which I
had experienced
a great deal of
trouble and
pain. The kid
--- ney secretions
were very irregular, dark colored and
full of sediment. The Pills cleared it
all up and I have not had an ache in
my back since taking the last dose.
My health generally is improved a
great deal.”
FOSTER-MILBURN CO., Buffalo,
N. Y. For sale by all dealers, price 50
cents per box.
absolute
SECURITY.
Genuine
Carter’s
Little Liver Pills*
Must Boar Signature of
8m F*c-8tmlW Wrapper
T*ry null ud m
to take as sugar.
FOR HEADACHE,
FOR DIZZINESS*
FOR BILIOUSNESS.
FOR TORPID LIVER.
FOR CONSTIPATION.
FOR SALLOW SKIN.
FOR THE COMPLEXION
. OMnltUIB MUM WAV. HQMATM..,
tTf!1— 1 Purely
s
CURE 8ICK HEADACHE.