The Donaldsonville chief. [volume] (Donaldsonville, La.) 1871-current, 1874-04-25


out an 90 whar no one knows us, an start |
in different. You shell go tew school,
Joe, am yer old uncle'n see ye git good |
eddication. Thet's settled, my child. |
Good night.n And drawing the curtain |
that separated his bed from the main room,
he turned in. ,-l
The next morning Uncle Tucker was off
bright and early to his claim ; his face |
wore a happier look than it had worn for
months. He had no apprehensions OF the
halfbreed, as he was coolly brave man,
and he did not think Pedro would molest
the boy after the lesson he had received.
1t was his intention to sell out his claim,
bid his friends good-by, and locate some
where else.
g sJimmy,n said Uncle Tucker to red
shirted Hercules, who stood at his side,
" what'n We allow for the claim?"
"Oh, shoi Uncle Tucker" replied Jim
nv. "you don't want to sell out"
"Don't know bout that; what'u ye
give?''
At this moment boy ran up calling to
: Yere's me!'' said he, turning to the
boy with his old smile.
ssUncle Tucker, come up to the hotel,
quick! Somepins happen"
g What is it, sonny? Fer Gods sake
tell me! Is it Joe?'
"Don't know, Uncle Tucker" replied
the boy; 'Eall knowis, we heerd Mise in
the shanty, an the mex thing some one
went by on the mule, maxim big time"
Uncle Tucker waited to hear no more,
but ran on for his house. There was a
crowd at the door waiting for him. He
rushed in. and there, extended on the bed,
lay the lifeless form of his beloved Joe!
There he lay covered with stab wounds,
and quite dead. With heart-broken cry,
the old miner threw himself on his knees
at the side of the bed.
81 Speak to ole Uncle, honey " he cried
'sspeak, Joe, an tell who did it But
there was no reply from Joe.
"My child, my child! Pedro! S'arch
him out an shoot him DOWN." thundered
the enraged man.
Pedro? Was it Pedro? A man stopped
at the side of the bed and picked up one OF
those curious-looking cards, mute wit
ness of the terrible deed, but bearing upon
its face unmistakable evidence as to the
murderer. Yes, it was Pedre. A dozen
men Immediately set out in pursuit OF the
murderder.
The grief of the old man was painful to
witness. The room was cleared and a con-
sultation held outside as to what had best
be done. 1t was argued that no one but
the Mexican had been guilty OF the crime,
and that if he was captured he would be in
safe hands. They thought it would be
well for doctor to examine the body and
make report to committee of citizens.
A red-shirted miner, who was the district
physician, pushed open the door and en-
tered the room. He announced his errand
to Uncle Tucker, and softly approached
the bed. He opened the boys jacket and
gently turned it back. He started and
stepped back, while deep blush dyed his
face and neck, as if he had been caught In
some shameful act. He turned to leave the
room, when the old man, who had been
| watching him, clutched him nervously by
| the sleeve.
ssNot Wit, not yit, Doc" he whispered.
To-morrer, an then We may. Let the
burryin' take place this afternoon. An
will We come an see to my dear child ?"
The Doctor said he would; and wiring
/ ing Uncle fuckers hand he passed out.
| That afternoon a solemn. procession
wended its way up the hills to level spot
under the waving pines. A grave had
been dug, and the rude coffin was gently
lowered into it. Amid the hushed sobs Of
the grief-stricken man the rough doctor
read the burial service. Grief was depicted
in every stern face and every eye held q
tear. As the men stepped forward to fill
the grave the hardest character in the camp
advanced and threw pack Of cards upon
the box which held the form of little Joe
There was rude eloquence in the act, ano
one which spoke volumes in. behal
of the supplemented fellow, who
showed his devotion to the dead in the bes
W way he could. The grave was filled "
and little mound raised over it, which
was covered with the pure white syringa:
which grew all about in profusion.
Tew-morrer, Doc, an then We may,
faltered Uncle Tucker, as he stood in hi
door. ssCome in the mornin' an I'll tel
We why's The light burned late in Hote
Independence that night, and some salt
Uncle Tucker was praying. Little group
of men stood about, talking in subdue
whispers, when the sound of horses hoot
was heard coming up the road. 1t wa
the party who had gone in pursuit of tn
murderer. A nod from the leader toll
that justice had been dealt out to the fug
tive, and every man breathed freely.
The next morning the doctor went
. Uncle fuckers door. He knocked, bu
J receiving no answer walked in. The rooI
5 was vacant, and the bed had not been di:
him, when his eye caught somethin
e white laying on the table. 1t was lette
directed to him. Opening it, he read:
sThe dauter NV favrite sister of min
! losin her mother an havin cruel farthe
runs ava an CONS too her ole unkel. ST
, comes in this yer camp as boy, and fl
? shaim too mi child and feer Nv maxim tai
I lets her sta so. She was the darlin Nv o.
, fuckers hart and the Lord help Pidro
i he gifts site on hmm. Mi hlli Nv Il
: wal1y was looked from ole unkle afore
4 was 1ite-out whur no one node hmm. o.
: fuckers hed's afre doc. Mi affection tx
the boys and tel EN- mi story and will
!, far ava. Good by. Josephine Tuck
= was her naim. HIRAM TUCKER"
The hand of the doctor trembled as
it read this simple epistle; Old Uncle Tue
:. er had gone from among them, and b
r kindly old face would never be seen agai
d An hour later another 1ifeless form L
}, in the Hotel Independence. Some passel
by saw figure stretched upon the lit
grave nm in the Mines and going to it foul