The Sentinel. [volume] (Trenton, N.J.) 1880-1882, 1880-11-20

been deceived in regard to the characte,
OF Jacob Skinner. in whom, as fellow,
member of the church, he had such con
fidence.
Happily the troubles of Phineas anC
his wife fell on no others than them
selves. Their only son, Abner, was dead
He had been brought up c~onscientiouslJ
and strictly. but at eighteen had grown
weary of the rigid government, and
wanted to go West and set up for him
self. Then his father told him that he
should remain where the Carvers had
always been born, lived, and been
buried, and if he did go the father would
never receive him back. Thereupon
Abner ran away. They heard nothing
OF him for two years, when news
came OF his death in a fray with some
Comanches in Northwestern Texas.
That was twelve years before this
Thanksgiving. 1t was a severe blow 10
both, but especially to the mother. Time
gradually softened the sorrow; but the
old couple often talked of their dead
and kept his memory green. The cham
Der in which he slept had never been
occupied by another since his departure
his fishing rod hung undisturbed in the
hallway, and his gun rusted in quiet in
its old place just beneath the rod. His
death made no difference in the active
life of Phineas. He managed the farm
the same. and laid by something every
year; although it was not for a son, but
for distant kinsfolk, whom he had never
seen. But. having no son and no rela-
tions near at hand, and Thanksgiving
being a gregarious institution, Phineas
always used to invite any respecta BILE
strangers who CHANGED to be in the
neighborhood at the time to share the
feast. Cor in that way" said Phineas,
in explanation to his pastor, zone may
entertain angels unawares." "Pretty
angels" said Mahala, the hired girl,
who haa overheard this, and who from
twenty years. service was privileged of
tongue. Zone uf them angels last year
went off alter dinner, and two silver
| spoons an three forks went off with
him, an nuther them nor the angel amt
come back yit. But Phineas perse-
vered in his practice. On this occasion
he was to have four guests. He had
heard the night before of the arrival
of a foreigner with his wife and
When he had finished, Mrs. Carver came
into the DON again, and the stranger,
after a momentary pause, as though
for reflection, said: "Do you know,
now, l think it Just possible that your
son may not have been killed at ALP"
Mrs. Carver loked up inquiringly and
a~nxiously.
CHOW, MOTHER" observed Phineas
"you needn't build on that. The man
who was there at the time an tod us
about it, he said that when they gave
way an left the place, as they had to, to
save their scalps, Abner was lynn.
bleedin' on the perrayrie. He said they
were boun' to kill him if he didn't die O.
his wound"
"Mypoor ooy!" cried the mother, bel
grief taking on the vividness of the past
Besides, he'd have writ afore this
See here. Have you any reason fol
raisin' these n~otionsp"
"Only this, and that is why I speal
of it.. There was an Abner Carver il
| Durango, and he had originally com,
from this neighborhood."
why, father" said the boy, "tha'
is"
"Punto en- boca. Fineow said Gringo
| sharply, and the boy shrank bacl
abashed.
"Abner Carver! From this neighbor
hood" cried the old couple simultane
ously.
Eyes, and he had been prisoner
among the Comanches at one time.
knew all his history-at least while b.
was in Mexico"
Hope, DOUBT and anxiety were plainly
written on the faces of the farmer an(
his wife. They looked at the strange
earnestly. He evidently was in earnest
and they asked for the adventures o
this Abner Carver, which the strange,
gave readily enough.
1t appeared that Abner had been takel
while wounded, by the Comanches. Fl,
recovered from his hurts, and the chic
adopted him, in lieu of a son who hat
been killed short time previously. H
became a favorite and rose to be tn
second chief of that band of the tribe
About two years after his capture b
accompanied it on a raid in full fore,
into Northern Mexico. They plundere'
the ranch of a wealthy proprietor an
ran off the horses. Among their cap
tives was a little girl, about fourtee,
years of age. She was very pretty, an
Abner made up his mind to preserve he
from the fate that otherwise awaited he1
She understood no word of English
but he made his intent known to her b
signs, and she was on the alert. Whe
night fell on their first encampment, b
kept watch, loosened her bonds, led he