The Cheyenne daily leader. [volume] (Cheyenne, Wyo.) 1870-1884, 1881-02-18

DeIdtn' he cried, II hope you have
repented your evil deed;S' and, 5 say
ing, he died with the tale unfinished.
Ibis was, year after year, the mystery
Of Wilbur's life.
The WARM summer days came, full Of
color and delight. Wil6ur's little farm,
in the heart Of the wide Salinas, was a
wave of golden wheat which melted in
to other waves, and swept in wider and
yet wider circles until it was one sea of
grain from the rugged Gayilan peaks
TO the wooded bases of the Santa Lucia,
and from the hills of San Miguel. past
Gonzales and Chualar, TO the sands Of
Soledad and the old Spanish houses
near the river. Wilbur Mayne found
that Miss Leigh's success as a music
teacher was assured, for every n liked
her cultured ways and graceful self
reliance.
''Sech singin' and playin' was never
hearn afore,'' said old man Horthup,
after Miss Leigh's first concert, in
which her pupils from Hilltown. Santa
Rita, Natividad, Alisal, and surround
ing districts took part. And that was
The general opinion wherever she was
Known.
It came to pass one afternoon. when
the failing sun Lit the Santa Lucia peaks
that Wilbur harnessed his horse, with
much attention to the straps and buggy
and drove to Miss Leigh's boarding
place. The supposition is that it was
premeditated. A little while later he
had tucked her in with much robe and
attention. and they drove along the
highway toward the rounded Fremont's
Peak and the passes of the hills beyond.
It was not what might strictly be term
ed love-making. Both Of them were
sensible young people, a little shy in
that direction. Still it is probable that
they enjoyed each others company.
Monterey county is full of pictur-
esque bits of scenery, and winding,
rocky passes, wherever you leave the
valley to enter the hills. Sometimes,
too, art has helped nature, and the road
they followed past sloping vineyards,
and bits of orchard through which
moon-iit and peaceful roofs showed
clearly. 1t was while they paused by
the crossing of a silver brook, to let
he horse drink, that Miss Leigh looked
forward to a row of eucalyptus which
cleaned against the sky, and said:
II think it is wonderful how the very
GcnIulC VI VI bn4t II DS1t uDoub q NC
is SO clearly revealed in the twilight
The willows weeping folds are saddest
then; the mountain live oak wears its
sternest grandeur; even the twilight
beauties of a garden of roses, or of
clinging vines above a balcony, are
full Of delight"
yes" he said, ssthat is the way it
seems. As If the endless universe
were endlessly glad"
Half an hour later they reached her
home. II wonder what time it isp'
said Wilbur Mayne; my watch is left
for repairs"
She drew out her own tiny watch,
and put 1t in his hands. you had
better strike a match and look" she
said, for the moon was hid behind q
cloud.
Wilbur lit the match and held it
over the watch, but what the time was
he never knew, for on the chain he saw
a Grecian coin of gold, like that which
he himself carried. A puff of wind blew
out the fateful match. He felt cold and
dull, and wanted to be by himself to
think it all over. He handed Miss
Leigh out, hoped she had had a good
time, shook hands with her. climbed in
the buggy, and drove rapidly away.
Five minutes later he halted in the
road. and half turned around.
81 was q fool" no sid; ~ ought to
have asked about It, Perhaps it is the
most innocent Of heirlooms. l might
have been mistaken. Tho light was
very shabby. I am not sure about the
links of the dagger
When he reached home he took q
candle, and went into the workshop
There stood an old chest. md, unlock
ing this, he peered within. The books
his father had loved most, the clothes
he wore, his cane, his long-barrelled
pistols, and some of the simple treas
ures Of his own boyhood were hero.
Here, too, were his mothers wedding
ring and Bible.
Wilbur Mayne's eyes grew bright
with tears. Eyes, father" y he said, as
if he were speaking to some one who
stood very near, II shall find out all
about it, no matter what happens"
Business called Wilbur away the
next morning, and several weeks pass
ed before he saw Miss Leigh again.
He thought of writing to ask her about
the coin, but multitudinous letters were
begun anxiously and torn up in des.
pair. Sometimes he almost thought
that silence and forgctfulness were
best.
at must be-" he said to himself, ga
story of shame and wickedness. Some
wrong uncondoned, some ~irreparable
injury lies between her ancestors and
mine"
But at last he went to Miss Leigh,
earnestly, manfully, putting the coin be
had carried so long into her hands, and
saying, with terse directness:
'It is a part of my lifei tell me the
story"
Miss Leigh sprang to her feet with
swift excitement.
81 never expected to see that" she
cried, and laid hers aside it. 1t was
| like his In every line, except that the
dagger was sheathed and the link un.
broken.
at is like a leaf out Of an old 70
nance, blown into this prosaic nine.
,teenth century" she said, Eyes, ]
must tell you. My fathers name was
Belden, but he died when l was an
infant, and, my mother marrying again
her husband stipulated that I should
take his name. So / am Helen Leigh
to the end of the chapter. When my
father was young he had q very dear
friend who was in the same class q,
college, and Travelled with him in Eu.
rope. The strange part of it is that
my father in later years lev men
toned his name, and even erased il
from the books they owned in common,
SO that I had no way of knowing it.
He left, however, a package on which
was written, For my little girl when
she grows up This contained the
coin I have shown you, and a letter
which said: When my friend and
were young men together, we lived q
year with the Arabs, and twice he
saved my life. I had two rare coins
which had been in our family for years,