Louisiana capitolian. (Baton Rouge, La.) 1879-1881, 1879-11-22
BEHIND THE BARS.
rDetroit Free Press.

pitch, and the rain fell in a dreary, lone
some way and the fitfal gusts shook
down the wet, brown leaves in showers,
white-headed lonely old man sat in his
cabin on the banks of the Platte river,
Nebraska. He had come there alone. If
his life had been embittered by some
great misfortune he alone knew it. Once
in awhile some settler visited him, or
some hunter sought the shelter Of his
roof for the night, but he told no oneth
story Of his life-a story which would
have explained why an old man like him
had come out there to live and die by
himself
On this night when ''Uncle Abe" closed
his cabin door against the storm, he felt
no fear of men. He had little to tempt
the cupidity of the lawless and he had
no enemies who thirsted for revenge. He
sat before the rude fireplace and looked
into the flames and pitied those who
might be abroad in the storm. They say
that the dancing, quivering, dying flames
are typical Of human lives, and he may
have watched them and remembered his
years Of prosperity and sunshine-his
years of misery and misfortune.
All Mt once shadow seemed til pass
across the black night, and the old man
started up like one who had received a
wound. What was iti His face paled
as he asked himself the question, and he
bent his ear and listened as only ore can
when life depends.
Up the valley swept the wind, with
stronger gust, bringing with it blacker
clouds and more rain, and the old man
trcmblcd in every limb ashe rose up and
moved toward the door, to make sure that
it was securely fastened. He had not
reached it when it was burst open by a
kick, and stranger entered.
The old man would have given him
welcome but the words died away on his
trembling lips. The stranger was a man
of 40, thick set, bushy hair and tangled
beard, and from under eyebrows as
heavy as a mustache, his wicked eyes
glared ut Uncle Abe with murderous
light. For q moment they stood and
looked at each other. Then the stranger
shut the door, walked to the fire and said:
'Is this your welcome on night like
thisi Why don't you ask me to sitdowni
Why don't you put all the food in your
hut before me I"
'I-I-w
The old man could not utter o sen
tence. Men had come to his cabin time
and again bynight, and had been greeted
like old friends, but no other coming had
ever sent such terror through his veins:
"You stay there and I'll help myself!'
growled the stranger when he saw that
his victim could not speak; and he
seized him, whirled him across the room
with great force, and laughed in brutal
way as his victim lay stunned on the
floor.
The cabin rocked in the gusts and the
sound of pouring rain kept the old man
from hearing the beating of his terri fled
heart. 1t was miles up and down that
river to another cabin, and the coyotes
were the only living things abroad. Al
the stranger placed provisions on the
table and sat down to devour them the
wolves crept close to tho cabin walls and
fought and growled and sent forth into
the night such lonesome, unearthly
hOwls as made the old mans flesh creep
again. A quarter Of an hour passed
Then the stranger showed back from the
table and said:
"Get upw
The old man slowly reached his feet.
~ want your money!
Money! Why, that old man had not
seen q dollar for weeks and weeks. He
had little use for money, and he had few
ways Of earning it.
81 want money, or I'll cut your throat
from ear to ear y growled the stranger
as Uncle Abe failed to reply.
The sight ola keen, glittering knife
turned the old mans face whittier than
snow and brought speech to his lips. He
said he had not a dOllar-nota shilling
not evening single penny to his name
"You lie!" replied the stranger as he
lifted the knife little. 'Bring out YOU
money, or I'll carve you up by inches'
The poor old man trembled and plead
cd and protested, but the man in the
chair drew the edge Of his wicked bowie
lightly across his thumb and answered
back:
''YOu liew
Uncle Abe went down on his knees tt
him, and with terrified heart and gaspinl
voice called God to witness that he ha(
nothing to be robbed of. The man must
have felt sure of this, but he had come
there to do murder, and he fastened hi
hand in those gray locks, tlourished hi
wicked knife before those frightened
eyes, and said: &
81 give you one minute Of life-onSy
one minute!'
A moan of terror-a word of pEayer-s
feeble struggle to avoid the knf e, ant
that black-hearted villains work wal
done. Perhaps he remained there fol
hours to gloat over the gray haiss dab
bled in blood-maybe he kicked tn,
body of his victim and passed out int