The Osceola times., 1880-05-08

and among the letters Was one, ~
woman. hand, for John Harmer, Min
eral City, San Juan Co., Col. There was
not such parsonage IN the county 50
far as the boys knew, but Georgia sud
denly suggest that it might be for the
Hermit. This seemed most probable,
and he was deputed to carry It up and
deliver il, If correct.
As before, all the knocking failed io
obtain an answer. and Georeia, after n
moments hesitation. put hls shoulier 10
the door and with as little noise rs pos
sible burst the wooden button of that
served As a lock. The next instant and
Georgia was in the room. The Hermit
lay extended upon the floor, his face
flushed and hot with fever, and his long,
thin fingers neryously grasping and re-
laxing again the torn blanket on which
he tossed.
whats the matter, old pari?H said
Georgia, a. he raised the old mans head.
The fevered eyes slowly turned toward
his face. the emaeiated fingers opened,
and the poor, lonely old fellow said
huskily:
Don't tell herr
"WhO-tell who?"
"Ahce-poor little thing-she don't
know"
thinking of his folks in the States"
muiiered Georgia, and then tenderly
and carefully he lifted the sick man in
mis- arms and strobe away to his own
cabin.
The news Of the Hermit's sickness
spread through the camp and blankets
and food came nom all quarters for his
use. The store was Iansacked for the
best that IL could afford. A terrible
slaughtering Of mountain grousc took
place that rich broths might be made for
the invalid. One man Travelled sixteen
miles TO Silverton 10 secure a can oi
peaches, and the men almost fought
in the anxiety t0 act as nurses and
watchers. Georgia thanked the boys,
but kept them away, admitting only one
or two to and him in the care of the old
man. But despite all this attention the
old fellow sank and sank. and 1t soon be-
came evident that the mountain fever
had one more victim.
One night Georgia sat smoking his
pipe and musing. Tie owner Of the let
ter had been found, for in his rawlings
the old man had often mentioned the
name Harmer, but the boys feared
lest he should die before reading it, and
this perp.exed Georgia sadly. What
was he to do with it, and might it not
contain matters of importance? Had the
old man anv friends or relatives living,
and where were they to be found? all
these things and many more came fitting
through his brain, and he did not hear
his patient slowly raise himself in bed
and stare about him. The old man
looked the room over, and then his ewes
rested on the burly form by the fire.
Georgia" he said.
In an instant Georgia sprang 10 his
feet and hastened to the bedside.
"Why, pardner, durn it-yer-yer
getting better, amt your"
The old man smiled wearily.
Tell me all about ii" he said.
Georgia briefly recounted the story of
his illness, touching but lightly on what
he had done. and laying great stress on
the interest OF the men.
But now, old man, you'll soon be up
and among 'em," he concluded, with i
cheerful laugh.
NO" said the old fellow, with the
same weary smile, "but-but | thank
you"
"Oh, ,nonsense-thats all right-you're
only leetle shook up, you know-its
material after being as fur down as you've
been. You"ll soon be all right-cheer
up, and don't let yer sand run out; be-
sides, I've got letter for you"
"Letter-for me?" and the old mans
face lighted up with an eagerness that
sent tremor through Georgia's honest
heart, lest the missive, after all. should
not be for him. He got it, however, and
gave it INTO the trembling hands.
"Yes, yes" said the old fellow, "its
her writing, | know-like her mothers
now" and his poor. weak, shaking
hands vainly strove to open it.
"Let me-" said Georgia, kindly.
The old man let him take the letter,
and then said suddesly, but in low,
even tone: Hold on, Georgia"
Georgia paused.
Georgia" said the old fellow, looking
him steadily in the eye, you've been
kind TO me-very kind-and I've got
nothing to show for it-nothing but con-
fdence. I'm going to tell you some
thing, Georgia, and then-then you can
read that letter and you'll understand
all the good news it contains"
He paused a moment and closed his
eyes. Then he continued:
Georgia, was likely sort Of young
chap years ago-not such a good-for-
nothing galoot as am now-and | mar
ried, Georgia-married the best girl in
old Pennsylvania. was mighty happy
too happy, partner-that's what made
| it 90 so hard when she died. We had
one child--a girl-and We called her
Ahce-my wife's name. She was wee
little thing when her mother died. and
so very, very pretty. 1t was hard lines
on me, Georgia, and somehow | got to
drinking. | know it did me no good,
and | know ii wasn't right, but man
don't reason much when he's desperate
like, and so | drank and drank. ! sold
out every thing and put my girl my 1T
tie Alice-with my wiie's brother. He
had family of his own, and what could
lonely, broken-hearted man like me
do for a dear little girl? Georgia, IT
they'd come to me and talked good and
gentle thev could have made man out
of Inc, but they didn't. They wouldn't
let me come into their house, and they
said that I'd killed my wife by drinking.
Georgia. it was lie-a damnable lie.
never drank drop till she died, and !
wouldn't have done it then if I'd had
any one to sympathize with me. But
hadn't; was alone in the world-alone
with my great grief, and" and the old
mans voice broke. and his poor thin
hands went nervously over the blanket,
while two tears stole from his hot eyes,
and trickling down the pale, pinched
cheeks, lost themselves in the gray hairs
of his beard.