Eaton weekly Democrat. [volume] (Eaton, Ohio) 1866-1875, 1872-05-23

CanCeen ana plaCeo IL near nef, ana
then sat down afar off and picked holes
in the ground with his long knife, and
whistled softly, and sighed and groaned
within himself. Tom loved the woman
who lay there, and because he loved
her he was afraid of her. Most men
experience the same feeling once in
their lives.
But there had been another and an
unseen spectator of all this. We can
not tell by what peculiar conjunction
of the planets things fall out in this
world as they do. But while Tom was
executing his plans of comfort, the
slick-lookin' feller from Maxwells" :"
was watching afar off. He came no
nearer, because he did not understand
the situation. The burning building
suggested Indians, and he wanted no
closer acquaintance with them, should
they still be there. But while he
watched he saw and recognized the two
persons, and pang of jealousy entered
his heart. Then he stayed away be-
cause he desired to husband for future
Misrepresentation and use the circum-
stances to which he had been an unseen
witness, and finally rode away, baffied,
popdering in his cowardly heart some
scheme which could harm his formid-
able rival.
The afte: noon passed. slowly away,
and still Tom Harris kept watch Oc-
casionally he crept on tiptoe and looked
at his charge. She seemed asleep.
Finally he hobbled the two horses to
prevent escape, gathered some of the
vegetables in the desolate garden, and
stified strong mans hunger with young
radishes, green tomatoes and oilfess
lettuce. He could afford to wait, for he
was engaged in what he wondered to
think was in the midst OF the smoking
signs of rapine and captivity the most
delightful task of his life. He did not
know that hours ago the occupant of
the couch ha 4 opened her eyes, and
with returning consciousness had touch
ed the crimson-barred serape; had seen
the stalwart sentinel sitting afar off, and
then had fallen into the deep slumber
of grief.
Through the long watches of the
night the sleepless frontiersman passed
back and forth, listening to the chatter
of the coyotes and the gray VOLTS long
drawn howl. He scared away the
stealthy footsteps of tbs providers of the
night, and listened and waited. Anon
he crept close to the side of the couch
and listened for the breathing of the
sleeper; then crept away again with
the happy consciousness that he and
selves. In the early morning he heard
the clank of sabers and the hum of
voices; and troop of cavalry appeared
| from the post, and among them old
Sims, red-eyed and trembling, but
sobered by apprehensions and grief.
The man from Maxwell's had told of
the raid at the post, and he had reasons
of his own for doing so. They left men
and means for the conveyance of the
woman back to the post, and old Sims
returned with her. AS for Tom, the
soldiers gave him something to eat, and
he mounted his horse and accompanied
them upon the trail. His step was as
light and his heart as merry as though
he had slept in his bed, for as he looked
back the last time the face he saw was
sad and white, but the eyes were the
eyes of a woman who looks after one
| she loves.
Frail of body, but strong of purpose,
the unconquerable spirit of Old Sims's
daughter employed itself in directing
the erection of a house upon the spot
which had been SO long a home. In
less than a month she and Sims were
again established in the prairie nook,
in cabin not differing materially from
the former, but surrounded by pail
sade which bid defiance to Indian as
sault. The couple were not poor, and
while the old man drowned the past in
halfdrunk insanity, the dependents of
the house did the work the two daugh-
ters had once done. Chuck, stately and
sad, but softened, seemed daily to wait
and watch for something which never
came, and of which she never spoke.
The troops with which Tom Harris went
away had returned. They told of a
days running fight, which was duly
mentioned in general orders, but in
which they had suffered no losses. If
Tom had returned to his place, why did
he not come again to Sims's ranch
Chuck said to herself. And then there
was his beautiful serape; he might even
come for that. But he did not. The
man from Maxwell's did come and so
placid was his reception that he went
away again with bitterness in his heart.
He came again. The pale-faced woman
had dropped little, he thought, and
cared even less for his distinguished
company than before. But even while
she cooled his ardor with a grand
dignity, she seemed waiting for some
one to come in, and listening for some
, footstep. But lately this man had be,
come the possessor of q secret which
, filed his heart with exultation. He
learned it at the post, where it was men
I'll GlOAco ny CdISle5S -SOtk1loIs, 1Slioiaho vi
its fearful import. TEe loss of a man is
nothing, and the few of them who had
been lately at.Sims's did not even know
f of the fact. The only circumstance
g about the affair at all remarkable in the
/ eyes of those sons of Mars was, that {
man whose name was hardly known
L and now not remembered, who wen
4 with them only for ftrn" and through
v peculiar hatred of Apaches, should be
!. the only man to fall. True, he wa
: foremost; was splendid looking fel
= low; and they thought it pity, ant
u buried him where he fell. Therefore thi
!. suitor of Sims's daughter, possessed o
S the cunning which sometimes defeat
i itself, bethought him of this chanc'
). shot, and deemed that if it did him M
G good it might at least wound the pla
v cidity which he hated. So one day a
g he stood at the door, smarting unde
d a cool reception and no good-by at all
y he remarked TO Sims:
IS "Seems to me, old man, you and ye
= darter is waitin' fur suthin' that'll neve
e come. She needn't slight me a-waiti1
If for better company. Tom Harris wa