Litchfield enquirer., 1870-04-14
WHOLE NO es41q

gold has been removed. A hole washed deep by the rains, and half filled with dc. cayed leaves, showed it's former site s9lnHm ? d'' I tell you, my friends, I don't, t,sysn to this day, like to recall my feelings. when the certainty of this misfortune was forced upon me. believe was madnnan for Q little time, and not quite myself, when, leaving the bootless quest, insisted upon returning that very day. -e We found ourselves at nightfall about thirty miles from the Trinity, and stopped at little cabin for the night. With our minds full of the frustrated object of the journey, our conversation immediately turned upon it. The woman of the house. who was preparing supper, turned sud denly around as said: '1
 "I might have known better than to hu. | ry money in this confounded country" ' | /" Stakes alive" she cried. "what; be you the man what's lost that gold?" 'Do you know anything about it?" exclaimed. starting up, almost dizzy with l excitement she did not answer me, but l running to the door, called out:
 Husband, husband, come right in Here's the man that's lost the money" i5s
 "The husband, great burly Texan,
 rushed in, looking as wild as the woman. For Gods sake, good people, l cried, "don't keep me in suspense. Where's l my money? What do you know abou itI'
 You see, stranger" said the Texan, as to whar your money has gone; it's whar no bird can fly, but do know who tuck it, and how he got it, though it won't help | you to know" .-- ''The revulsion of feeling from hope to blank disappointment was too much for i my unstrung nerves. It was hours before l was able to hear and comprehend the i story as the Texan told it. .....-... An outlaw and murderer, who, for months, had been hidden from justice, found himself one day hard pressed by the 1 officers of the law, near that very swamp. Threading it,he found in one spot remains | of my camp fire, and as the night was cold, he gathered the half-burnt sticks together, and lighted them. As he lay on the ground, the edge of something glittering in the blaze, attracted his attention. Stretching out stick, he dislodRed it. and, to his astonishment. found it twen- ty-dollar gold piece, which, in some way, had escapel from the canvas bag, which dug on until the whole hoard was exposed.
 In passing through the country, he stopped at the house where we were, and knowing the host, had ,conided to him his good luck. He had never returned, and no news had reached the people as to his whereabouts. Perhaps, as the host sug- gested, he had been hung with certain band of desparadoes in Matamoras, ssve- ral months before. In fact, from what they had heard, it was almost certainty"
 The speaker smoked long time in si- lence when the narration closed.
 "Fortuitous or not" said Desbrooke, taking up the conversation, ' there are incidents in the world, which, when brought home to us, seem to hem us in an impenetrable wall of doubt There is no outlet that know of, unless we accept the belief of circumstantial Providence. It saves trouble and question:"
 t" Yes. for those who gain by it," answer ed Maillard. 'joa's qui rit'sees matters from different point of view from Jean ani pleure.' You are not by so many degrees worthy of more fortunate dispensation than your luckless comrade." 5a ia H
 '' Remember the justification of jus tice," ," laughed Desbrook, the finder was doubtless hanged, and the treasure brought him sooner to the reward of his deserts. 1"
 "I only wish that justice had claimed her own out of somebody elses pockets" said Maillard, rising with a yawn. ] move we go to bed and dream out the so- lution of these baffling enigmas which peo- pie call 'fortuitous circumstances. ..,