Weekly Chillicothe crisis. (Chillicothe, Livingston Co., Mo.) 1878-19??, 1879-08-28
5HisrrHang.
THE ROAD AGENT.

THE ROAD AGENT.
My route, which was the only road be
tween the towns of Ireton and Chester,
lay for thirty miles through an almost un-
broken wilderness. The track had been
badly cut to pieces by recent rains, and
my progress was much slower than was
either safe or pleasant. Sunset found me
still many miles from my destination, and
began to reflect on the probability of a
nights lodging in the woods in no COM
Portable frame of mind.
My horse stumbled so constantly in the
increasing darkness that | was forced at
length to allow him to pick his way at a
slow walk. | had arrived at particular
Iy rough part OF the road, and halted to
make sure that no pitfall lay hidden in
in the obscurity beyond, when a form
sprang out of the bushes and stood beside
me. In the dull light could perceive
that it was small, slightly built man,
clad in shabby garments with broad
slouchcd hat concealing his face, and that
he held pistol in unpleasant proximity
to my head.
"What do you want?" asked with
what composure | could muster.
"Your money" was the answer. "Fling
it down into the road and ride on.
The voice was singularly sweet for Il
mana ruifian at that-and there was Il
tremor in it that belied his threatening
air.
"The man is a coward" said to my
self; then aloud, Suppose | refuse to
comply with your very reasonable request,
what then2"
81 shall blow your brains out, " was the
reply. Throw me your money, and be
quick about it,"
raised my hand from my side as if to
comply with his demand; but instead of
dong so suddenly lifted my ridingwhip
and brought it down upon the temple OF
my waylayer. The blow was powerful
one, and he rolled under my horses feet
without sound Springing from my
saddle to grapple with him, found him
PROSTATE and inscnsblc, with the blood
flowing copiously from an ugly wound in
the forehead.
In the act of lifting his head upon my
arm his hat fell off, and coil of luxuri-
ant brown hair fell over my arm. Much
astoniShed at this, bent over the life
less body, and beheld II pale, beautiful
face, with small, delicate features, whose
expression, even in Inconsistencies, was
that of mingled sadness and despair
My assailant was woman, young and
bearing traces Of refinement about her,
despite her rough male attire.
After little search | discovered the
weapon with which she had threatened
me. 1t was an old pistol, broken and
unloaded. With an impulse that | did
not stop to question, | thrust in my
pocket. Then ! examined the wound |
had inflicted. 1t was a slight one, but
would leave a lite-long scar upon her
temple,
What should such woman be doing
in this desolate regionp What crisis Of
misfortune had driven her to an act so
dangerous and unwomanly? There was
not time to reflect upon the matter, for she
stirred slightly, and faint moan of pain
came through her pale lips.
With sense OF deep remorse for the
violence had done the poor girl, bound
up her wound with my handkerchief and
slipped good portion of the money had
about me into the pocket of her coat. |
felt that her need must be desperate in
deed.
After moment her eyes opened, and
she gazed wildly around.
"What has happenedp" she said, con,
fusedly. "Where is MY father?"
Then she gazed at me wonderingly.
ooh, | remember" she cried, IN Il
heart-rending accent. "0h, sir, if you
knew why did it! Let me go to my father
pray, pray, let me go!"
"You shall" said |, soOthingly; 81 will
take you to him, for you are not able to
walk alone. Poor child! 1t was mistake,
and | was very brutal. Say no more, but
lean on me.
She obeyed in silence, and ninging my
horses bride over my arm, | led her down
the road until she paused before misera-
BILE hut, whose battered aspect and un-
lighted windows gave sorrowful evidence
of the poverty Of the inmates.
AS released her she suddenly seized
my hand, and, gazing up into my face
appealingly, broke into a passion Of
tears.
81 understand you," said. "No one
shall ever know what has occurred to-
night from my lips. No wrong has been
done, except through my violence; and !
hope that you will forgive. Now 60 to
your father. "
Waving my hand in farewell | sprang
upon my horse and rode away.
Cautious inquiry in the next town elic-
tied the fact that the hut had seen was
occupied by an old man of the name OF
Windsor and his daughter Julia. They
had come from the East some three years
previous, and had evidently seen better
days. Even now, miserably poor as they
were, they preserved dingy, aristocratiC
seclusion, so that their neighbors knew
little about them and cared less. How
they lived my informant could not guess
The father had been in feeble health for a
long time, yet the daughter, fragile, del
icate girl, had found the means to support
him.
had learned one of those means, y
and went away from the town with O
deeper respect for Julia Windsor than
had ever felt for woman.
Two years later found me permanently
established in New York. | had nearly
forgotten my adventure with the roaC
agent, and should have forgotten it al
together butfor the old pistol which | still
retained.
One evening, during a reception at thu
house of friend, I observed among th,
guests lady whose face seemed strangel,
familiar to me. Where | had met her be
fore could not remember; but there wa
something in her appearance that rec
ognized rather by the heart than by tn,
mind.
On inquiring who she was, | Learned
that she had lately returned from th
lWest with her father who had expert