The Tipton advertiser. [volume] (Tipton, Cedar Co., Iowa) 1856-1962, 1870-11-10


ry flashes Of lightning gave motto,
that the storm would suon be upor
him.
"Now, an | could only git to the o,t
log house, it 'ud kap- me dhry. Howl!
Moses what Il big fash was that"
And so saying, Pa. broke into quite d
respectable trot, which quickly brough,
him into little weed giown clearing -
log house, the deserted homes.rai o:
some discoEtented sutatter VINO had
removed further westward. 1t consist
ed of hut two rooms. front and back and
long since disappeared; but it promised
some sort Of imperfect shelter from the
! rain
Patrick was just in time, for hardly
had he stumbled over the grassy thre..
! hold before the first big drops began to
patter, and these were quickly followed
by such penetrating torrents as compel
, led him.to seek a standing place unber
roof.
BLESS me sowl, but this is wet rain,
anyhow, ia not loke to be dLrowned
with another mons povtnanty about
me clothes. Whisht, now, Patrick, me
jewel, watts that?"
And as lie spoke, he once more advah-
ced to the doorway. Twas now all but
pitch dark, and he could the half muf-
fled voices of men whose protane utter
anc-s seemed to try and direct one aa-
other to the shelter.
''Heie il is, Bob wonder If there's
&ny body in it,"
"Not to night, there won't be. Go
right in; we're comin'."
Patrick was no fool, and he had heard
something in the tones rather than i'm
the words-tlough these were mingled
with horIid profanity-which conveyed
to his mind the impression that the
new corners were men with whom he
did not cafe to scrape an acquaintance;
neither did he like to 60 out into the
storm -aid so he quietly gli,.ed back
into the little lean TO- that formed the
other part of the house, and curled him
self up against the logs.
In a moment more he perceived that
three men had taken possession Of his
late Quarters: and he lay AS still as "A
mouse while they continued n discussion
which had evidently been in,errup,eJ
by the storm.
"lIe won't try to get over to- night, /
reckon"
"ies, he will; he got to.'
But the storm A."
Hell wait till that's over"
MAY be he's started"
"If he has, hell turn back. We're
safe enough to bag him, and its little
the best "y we ever had"
Pretty good pot, that's a fact. DO
you know how he's got it?'
"ln valise, Jim says
"WeiI. we can take it as wei! in that
as in anything else, as the man said
about his whiskey"
But what II we do with him?"
Dead men tel! no tales"
"rhat's the safest, guess; and they
III lay it to some of the strikers"
Most likely. Have you got the dark
lantern ready?"
Not much oil in ii.n
Lets fill itthen. Iwentto get some,
and got into the boss private room, and
found one little can hid away in
his desk. Not another thing
worth bringing away. Here It's; let's
fill up, and take Il look round"
Thus far Patrick had listened with
hreathless attention, while his mind
teemed with horrid visions Of robbery
and murder. AS we have said, he was
by no means lacking in sharpness, and
the reference to the valise had u,t been
by any means reassuriug.
"HowIy mother! how did they iver
know | was comm over wild the port
manly? I'd like to know that Begnr-
rah, I'd better have turned back before
l ivcr come! An what what's dollar to
pay for beln murtheredp'
Patrick thoughts were troubling the
very soul within him, when he heard
what was said about the lantern, and it
needep no one to tell him that his only
safety from discovery was in retreat.
There was some little noise aud loud
talking in the other room, not to speak
Of the rain on the roof, AMI Patrick
had no difficulty in escaping unheard.
Once clear OF tn e house, he mad c'ean
run of it for u couple OF hundred yards,
stumbling over logs, tearing through
briers, but sticking faithfully to his
valise.
Meantime the three robbers had prob
ably been filling the lamp of their dark
antern; and just rs Patrick reached the
ledge of the woods, in the cover OF whose
darkness he knew he would be safe, he
turned aud strained his eyes in the di
reciion of the log house. As he did so,
a faint glealn of light came out through
the chinks and crannies.
"Sthrikin a MATCH" muttered Pat
! rick.