Ashtabula telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1874-1880, 1877-10-05

personal recognizances, nor could
resist certain feeling of shame at
my embarrassment.
We were beginning to descend. In
the distance below us already
twinkled the lights of the solitary
rancho of Lone Valley. L turned to
my companion. "But you have
forgotten that l don't even know
your name. What am | to call
you?
''Ihet's So" he said, musingly.
"Now, let's see. Kearney would
be a good name. It's short and
easy like. Thar's a street in Frisco
the same title. Kearney it is"
"But-" l began, impatiently.
'Now you leave that all to me, "
he interrupted, with a superb self
confidence that l could not help but
-admire. The name aint no account,
it's the man that's responsible. Ell
| was to lay for a man l reckoned
was name5 Jones, and after l fetch
ed him l found out on the inquest
that his real name was Smith-that
wouldn't make no matter, as long as
| got the man"
The illustration forcible as it was,
did not strike me as offering a pre-
possessing introduction, but we
were already at the rancho. The
barking of dogs brought Sylvester
to the door of the pretty little cot
tage which his taste had adorned.
1 briefly introduced Mr.. Kearney.
"Kearney will do--Kearney's
good enough for me-" commented
the soi-diSta'et Kearney half aloud,
to my own horror and SylveSter's
evident mystifcation, and then he
blandly excused himself for mo-
ment that he might personally su-
pervise the care of his own beast.
When he was out of ear shot
drew the puzzled Sylvester aside.
81 have picked up-l mean have
been picked up on the road by a gen.
tie maniac whose name is not Kear-
ney. He is well armed and quotes
Dickens. With care, acquiescence
in his views on all subjects, and gen.
eral submission to his commands, he
may be placated. Doubtless the
spectacle of your helpless family,
the contemplation of your daughters
beauty and innocence may touch bis
fine sense of humor and pathOs.
Meanwhile heaven help you and for
give me-"
ran upstairs to the little den that
my hospital host had always kept
reserved for me in my wanderings.
| fingered some time over my ablu-
tions, hearing the languid gentle
manly drawl of Sylvester mingled
with the equally cool, easy slang OF
my mysterious acquaintance. When
came down to the sitting room !
was surprised however, to find the
self-styled Kearney quietly seated
on the sofa, the gentle May Sylves.
ter, The ''Lilly of Lone Valley" sit.
ting with maidenly awe and unaf
fected interest on one side of him,
while on the other that arrant tiirt
her cousin Kate, was practising the
archery of her eyes, with an excite.
ment that seemed almost real.
"Who is your deliciously COO
friend?" she managed to whisper tC
me at supper, as 1 sat utterly dazeC
between the enrapt May Sylvester,
who seemed to haug upon his words
aud this giddy girl of the period
who was emptying the battery Of
her charms in active rivalry upon
him. ''Of course we know his name
isn't Kearney. But how romantic
and isn't he perfectly lovely? AnC
who is he?"
l replied with severe irony that
was not aware what foreign pOten
tate was then travelling incognitiC
in the Sferras of California, but thai
when his Royal Highness was pleas
ed to inform me, L should be glaC
to introduce him properly. Unit
then l fear the acquaintance must b.
Morganatic."
"Your only Jealous of him." she
said pertly. "Look at May, she is
completely facinated. And hel
father too" And actually the worlC
sick, Ianguid, cynical Sylvester wa
regarding him with boyish interes
and enthusiasm almost incompatible,
with his nature Yet ! submit hon
estly to the clear headed reason 0
my own sex, that could see moth
ing more in the man than l have al
: ready delivered to the reader.
In the middle of an exciting stO
ry of adventure, of which he, to th
already prejudiced minds OF his fai
auditors, was evidently the hero, h
stopped suddenly.
dts only some pack train pass
ing the bridge on the lower trail,
! explained Sylvester. "Go on"
s'lt may. be my horse is a trif
oneasy in the stable" said the al
: legged Kearney. He amt used t.
, boards and covering" Heaven Onl
knows what wild and delicious rev
elation lay in the statement of thi
fact, but the girls looked at each
: other with cheeks pink with excite
ment as Kearney arose, and wit
quiet absence of ceremony, quite,
the table.
, "Ain't he just lovelyw said Kate
; gasping for breath, "and so witty"
"Witty!" said the gentle May
with just the slightest trace of def
ance in her sweet voice. "Witty
, my dear, why don't you see his hear
is Just breaking with pathos? Witty
indeed; why, when he wa
[ speaking of that poor Mexican We
/. man that was hung, l saw the tear
gather in his eyes. Witty, indeed
"Tears," laughed the cynical SyI
verter, ''tears, idle tears. Why
you silly children, the man is mai
e of the world-a philosopher, quiet
observant, unassuming."
"Unassuming" Was Sylveste
intoxicated, or had the mysteriou
g stranger mixed the insane verb wit
the family pottage? He returned bt
. fore could answer this self-ask e
l inquiry, and resumed coolly his broE
ell narrative.
J, Finding myself forgotten in tn