New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1880-03-24

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ran to bring his great-coat, and was
helping him on with it, when mother
came and stood beside him. She laid
her hand on his shoulder and looked up
anxiously into his face.
wish, DEAR" she said, and she
tried to keep the trembling out of her
voice-"1 wish you wouldn't 20 out
to-nightr'
Father gently took her hand from his
shoulder and held it in his for q moment,
kissing it as fondly and gallantly as he
might have done when thew were both
Of them thirty years younger.
"Tut, tut, Susan he SAID; l knew
you would begin to worry again if
told you that the Young reprobate was
at large again. Ny dear, what he said
in court that day was nothing but idle
bravado. He would never dare show
himself about here.''
But mother still chung to him. "Not
tonight she said coaxingly. "Don't
60 out tonight
But l promised Mrs. Ellis I would
come. Besides and his voice drop.
ped reprovingly-.. do you think am
less in Gods hands out of doors than
am here by my own fire;1de?''
At which she never said another
word, only she kissed him more than
once before he turned to 20 out.
And that, I believe, is the last time
we should ever have seen him alive but
for Pentateuch. The boy sat all the
while on cricket by the fire, listening
eagerly to what was said, though he ap-
peared to De thinking only of the chest
nuts he was roasting.
must pause moment here to tell
you about young Ellis. His was an un-
pleasant story, and I will not dwell
upon its details. He was wild, des-
Perate young fellow, the son of one Of
the deacons of fathers church.
From the time that he was old enough
to walk, he had never caused his pa
rents anything but pain and trouble.
until one night in the last spring. he
had stained his hands, already black
with sin, with most dreadful crime
the murder Of his own father.
He had been arrested, and tried and
convicted of the crime, mainly through
my fathers testimony.
The connection Of all this with the
story | have to tell grew out of few
words that the young man uttered as he
left the courtroom afterthe verdict had
been given. As he was taken out of
the room he passed my father. who was
sitting near the door.
1t is to you,'' he said in low, hiss
ing voice, "that owe all this. Now
mark you; the law alloys mo a year to
live. Before God swear that I will
leave no effort untried to make you
suffer for what you have brought upon
me to-day"
It was those words that came to nv
mothers mind, and to the minds Of all
of us, that November night, when We
learned that the murderer was again at
large.
One would think that we should not
have cared to talk about this terrible
threat after father had gone out; but
we did talk about it, and gradually
worked ourselves into state Of nervous
apprehension that could hardly have
been greater had we really known of
the great danger that father was in.
Every once in while I noticed that
Pentateuch was listening intently to
what was said, and was rolling his eyes
about in wondering awe.
The old-fashioned clock in the corner
struck eight and then nine. We did
not expect father back much before ten.
About nine Pehtateuch arose and
stood moment, yawning and swing
ing his arms about.
"Iguess I'll 60 ter bed" said he.
Dis chile's precious sleepy"
Il wish, Pentateuch," said my moth
er, "that you would sit up until John
comes home"
Pentateuch, however, only gave an
other frightful yawn and replied:
Couldn't tink of it, Missus Morris.
My eyes dey keeps slammin' demsleves
too hard every minnit. Couldn't keep
UNI open any longer to save me from
And as he always did just a. he
pleased, in spite Of any of us, he was
permitted to depart.
And now I shall tell you of everything
that followed, just as I believe it must
have happened, though I myself did not
know of all the circumstances until
sometime later.
Pentateuch did not go to bed, as he
had said he should. He had no sooner
closed the door behind him than with
out stopping even for his hat, he stole
out of the back door, down the path, to
the gate, and then set off at the top of
his speed down the road toward the
Westinghouse.
He had put what he had just heard
side by side with the faces of two men
he had seen near the house that after
noon, and he feared that their appear
ance had something to do with the es-
cape of Ellis from prison.
Arrived at the Westinghouse corner,
Pentateuch stopped moment unde-
cided. There was dark, narrow cross
road that turned off here, and ran down
through bit of woods to the house of
the Widow Ellis.
Could my father have come up vet, or
was he still at the housep
That was the question that Penta-
teuch stood asking himself, when he
saw a faint flash Of light appear and
disappear some distance down the road.
Without farther hesitation he started
on again, though quite cautiously.
just at the edge of the wood his ear
caught the sound of voices only short
distance before him.
He had barely time to drop on his
knees in the bushes beside the road,
when those who were speaking passed
by. Two dusky, stalwaft forms were
bearing an unconscious burden between
them, which Pentateuch thought was
the body Of my father.
A sudden rage filed the devoted lads
soul, and he would have confronted the
men, but few words spoken by one Of
them made him think that his kind
friend was not seriously hurt, and he
sank back in silence.
The blow will last him until we get
to the church, I guess, these were
the words. !" IF he ever comes to him
SELF, he'll find that hanging near his