The new dominion. [volume] (Morgantown, W. Va.) 1876-1904, 1879-01-11
OUR STORY TELLER.
ANNIE McKEENE.

pefS during Ine nOHtn Oh september:
"SIsTER CELEsTE.-In this city, at the
Convent of the Sisters of Mercy, Sister
Celeste, on Wednesday, September Is,
1878.
Solemn High Mass of Requiem at the
Church of the Immaculate Conception,
next Friday, at nine o'clock a. M"
One September day, in the fall of 1862,
there rode up to the old but comfortable
looking farmhouse of Andrew Harris,
near Independence, Missouri, band of
seventy men, armed to the teeth with
shot-guns and revolvers. They were
all streng and young, and had an uncon-
cerned air of determined bravery. They
all sat up well on their horses, were
young and hardy looking. A few were
but boys, while others had beard and
long hair. They were dressed in divers
styles-some in red, blue, or checked
flannel shirts, others wore coats. All
had boots coming up over the panta-
looms above the knee, and most with big
spurs at the heels. Their horses were
magnificent, and we'll decked off nth
SNOWY brides. At the head of the com
pany rode a small man with pale face,
light, short hair, blue eyes, slight mus
tache. 1t was Quantrell and his men.
Who needs be told who they were or
what they were. Not such robbers or
frightful-looking people as some would
imagine, but bad enough indeed, They
opened the gate of the barn-yard and
went in and dismounted, having left
guard for the hill half mile back
They pulled down the hay, opened the
corn-crib, and made themselves at home
without saying word TO Andrew Har-
ris, the good old farmer they had come
TO despoil. But he was not disturbed
he was ready to give them all he had,
for he was one of that class who lived
in that section that was but too ready to
succor any body whose mission it was
to fight the Kansas Jayhawkers. The
guerrillas then found Mr.. Harris a
warm friend, and ready to aid them
even at the risk of his life. Quantrell
was invited to take dinner at the house
with the family, and his officers were
invited to come with him. One who
went was John McKeene, in courage or
stature the peer of any man in the COM
mand. and one of the great guerrilla
chieftain's most trusted counselors. He
had become famous for daring deeds As
well as a handsome appearance. He
had come from Cass County, and on the
breaking out of the rebellion his father
and two brothers had been killed by
Jennison's men from Kansas. McKeene
took an oath that no grass should grow
under his feet in the pursuit of the
murderers of his father and brothers,
and he kept his oath with a frightful
vengeance. He, like most of his COM
panions in arms, became desperate
with revenge as the impelling motive.
He had killed men, both young and old.
He had learned to shoot them down
with as much deliberateness as if he
were engaged in simple practice of
craftsmanship. But he was handsome
for all that He stepped like an athlete,
and hade rude manner that was grace
full in its way. He wore e-brimmed,
light-colored hat, on which was pinned
black feather, wide belt of red mo-
rocco, with gold embroidery, and the
cavalry boots of Federal colonel. To
his belt there always swung pair of
ivory-handled navy revolvers. These
we're all the arms that he used and all
that he carried. With these he was
master, ready always, quick as a pam
Their, and deadly in his aim. Sitting on
his horse, or standing on foot, be might
be the envy of the noblest-formed and
most ambitious knight that ever be-
longed to the Round Table.
There was then, instead of fear, en-
thusiasm at the house of Andrew Har-
ris on the September day that Quantrel
came in to forage on him. Never was
corn, hay, and oats, as well as food for
the men, given away with better good
will. But Andrew Harris was not alone
in his hospitality. His wife had a son
with Price, and another buried on the
field of Wilson's Creek She was doing
a labor of love. And there was an
other-the only child left at home-a
girl seventeen years old, who, like many
OF her sex in that time and country, had
wished hundred times that she were a
man that she might go into the war.
She was rather pretty. Her eyes
were blacker than an Indian maiden's,
and as piercing, and her hair was as long
and as straight type of women well
known to those who lived in Western
Missouri in those troublous days. She
had made flags, large and small, which
she gave to those of her neighborhood
who went out to fight. She had made
herself dress of red and white. Anv
sort of rebel soldier to her was a demi-
god. The wild insanity of the times
found in her a splendid representative.
Her name, young as she was, had been
spoken throughout half hundred
counties. She was known at every Fed
eral post in the State, and the authori-
ties had often threatened to Danish or
imprison her.
AS woman, she was as notorious as
John McKeene was a man. They had
heard OF each other many time, and
longed to see each other. He had said
she was the bravest woman in Missouri:
she had said he was the bravest man of
all the rough riders of the border. Con-
sequently, when they met at her faith
er's table, it was cordial meeting, and
each was more than pleased.
AS the sun went down Quantrell and
his men rode away, and, as they passed
along in front Of the house, Annie stood
at the gate and received a salute from
each one. Then it was that she wished
more feryently than ever that she was
man that she might go along.
On the following morning, before the
sun had come up, the advance guard Of
the pursuing Federals came up to the
house of Andrew Harris in hot pursuit.