Fayetteville observer. [volume] (Fayetteville, Tenn.) 1850-1966, 1870-09-22

you glt well!
st warn't me that shot yer,
Dan!
Never mind; l amt agoing tc
trust you, Jim Clark said Dan,
as he placed fresh priming in the
pan of his gun.
Clark noted the action, and
shrieked out:
Yer amt agoiD' to murder me,
are yer2'
NO, | amt; leastwise not now.
I'm going to cure you; and to
start about it I'll carry you to my
ranch-'tain't fur. So here goes.
As he gave the words utterance
he lifted the fainting man in his
arms, and returned to his hut.
A month later, and they stood
upon the scene of their late ad-
venture, side by side.
Dan gazed, with a peculiar smile
upon the spot. Strange glances
seemed to shoot forth from his
eyes whenever his gaze wandered
to the man his kindness saved !;
and yet they seemed perfect
friends.
i tell you, Dan, I never felt
better or stronger in my life. l
believe l could chaw up two such
bears as the one you killed right
here. Why, what aiis your cried
Jim Clark astonished at the
strange effect his avowal had upon
his companion.
"What ails me, Jim Clark 7 and
turning suddenly, with flashing
eyes, Dan faced his questioner.
I'll tell you. For month I've
been waiting to hear you say-that,
SO that | might tell yer all | want
to. Do you remember Molly
ReedY
In thunder tones the question
pealed forth from Dams COM
pressed, pale lips.
Molly Reedr gasped Clark,
turning pale.
Yes, Molly Reed, the only wo-
man | ever loved, and to whom /
was to have been welded ten
years ago yesterday, and whose
loss drove me from civilization !!
Do you know why l did not mar
ry her? I'll tell you. Twas be-
cause the Indians burned the set
Element and carried her off pris-
oner. Don't you want to know
what became of her? I'll tell
you that, also? cried Dan, in
voice of thunder, using, in his
excitement, language long stran-
ger to his lips. 'Tll tell you. A
white devil led on the fiends,
who, beneath his disguise of paint
and feathers possessed a blacker
heart than any of his blood.
stained crew, fancied her, and
forced her to live in his wigwarm.
Six months of weary, hopeless
life ended in her death--the death
of all l lovedp
Here the hunter paused to take
breath and dash away the moisture
that had gathered in his eyes
In moment, and without SEEM
ing t. notice the pallid face be-
side him, he resumed:
Yes, death, merciful death
closed the scene. Fer five years
| strove unsuccessfully to learn
her fate. At last an Indian told
me her fate, and also the name of
man who SO cruelty and slowly
murder her. Iswore by the most
horrible Of oaths to be revenged
upon him; and, at last, l stand
beside himp
During this rapidly uttered
speech Clark remained immova-
BILE. At first he turned pale and
trembled, looking around for some
avenue of escape. A glance at
Dams rife told him that to fee
was to die. So, by a strong men,
tai effort he controlled himself,
and, as Dan concluded, he, with a
forced unnatural laugh, exclaimed:
why didn't you kill me at
firstY Then, changing his tone,
he added: L s'pose I'd as well
own up. Them was my bad days,
and I've repented of many things
/ done then. Shake hands, old
fellow and let the past go to thun-
der. / tell you I'm sorry-do
you want anything else?'
YES came in stern cold tones
in reply, i want yorr life; lsaved
it when it was Ill Lager, that |
might take it when its possession
was sweetest. Here you or ! die,
one of us will never see the sun
set. Come, here are two knives,