The Northern Pacific farmer. [volume] (Wadena, Minn.) 1878-1885, 1881-02-17
BILL PETTERFIELD'S STORY.

=, BILL PETTERFIELD'S STORY. .
His name was Bill Petterield and he had
a sad, PARKWAY look in his eye, as if he was
continually being haunted by the memory
of the past. The crowd on the postof6ee
steps laughed and cracked jokes, but he sat
aloof, with one hand shading his brow,
seemingly absorbed in deep thought.
What's the matter, Petterfeld, old boy?
You look as if you;were going to funeral"
inquired one Of the crowd, slapping him on
the back.
There is nothing the matter with me,''
he replied, as shade of melancholy swept
across his face. II was only thinking Of
something which happened long years ago,
something which have prayed would be
blotted out Of memory forever"
what is it, Petter6eld? What is this
and the crowd with bated breath listened
to the story which Petterield told.
1T was in the spring of 1852 that my
friend Jim Weeks and decided to go to
Texas, and there seek a fortune which fate
seemed We were never destined to gain.
Jim and had been raised together in the
mountains of East Tennessee, and the love
we bore each other bordered on that which
exists between brothers. One fine morning
we babe the dear ones goodbye, and with
tears dimming our eyes turned our backs
on our homes. A weeks time found Jim
and myself in San Antonio hard at work
and in good spirits. We both boarded with
an old widow lady whose only fault was
that she sometimes made a too free use of
her boarders' property, but as her kindness
To hal IL or.
gave. For a; month or two no man
worked harder than jim Weeks, and
no one led more steady life than he,
and imagine my surprise when suddenly he
began absenting himself from his room at
| night, and to all my questions as to the
cause of it he gave evasive replies. Day by
day he grew moody, and ill-humored, and
spoke angrily to me when asked him to
confide in me. I was at a loss to know the
meaning of his strange actions, when one
night he burst into my room, his eyes blood
shot, and his face the color of the driven
| snow. Bill, he said as he paced the room,
you no doubt have thought me a. maniac,
and my actions have, know, caused you
much anxiety, but now intend to explain
all. Not long since went to a fandango.
and there met Mexican senorita, whose
| lustrous eyes and bewitching beauty set my
! l.
came acquainted with her, and to know her
was to be her captive, her slave. Oh!
Bill, I love her madly; I would sinh;
my eternal soul into the bottomless pits of
he'll to win for myself those charms which
have so daZed my senses. Whether: she
loves me OF not do not know. Ihave been
, afraid to ask that, but tonight shall deter.
mine all, and if from her lips I receive my
doom I shall put an end to on existence
which would be miserable without her.
With these words he left me, and as soon as
I recovered from my establishment snatch
ed up my hat and dashed out of the house
in pursuit, determined, if possible. to pre-
vent him from carrying Into execution his
hellish purpose. I went to every fandango
in town, but could not find a trace of him.
and was despairing Of doing SO when lit
tie Mexican boy said, 1Senor, dis letter por
Hastily and with trembling fingers l tore it
! open. It was from Jim and read
"Good- bye, old boy. [ have made the one
grand play Of my life and lost. You will
find all that is left Of me in my ROOM
>. ''With a groan 7 turned and ran like a
frightened deer in the direction of the
boarding house, hoping, yea, praying that
I would be in time. When I got near the
house I saw light in his window, and OPP
ening the front door as: quick as could,
entered the hall. ~. The inmates of the
house were wrapped in slumber, and a
deathlike stiffness reigned. .Jim's room
door was open, and by the lamplight which
streamed through it l saw him standing be-
fore the glass, barring his throat with one
hand, while in the other he held the glitter
ing STEEL I tried to call out but my pareh-
edtongue Glove to the roof of my mouth and
I was speeches.. I made an effort to rush
upon him and thwart his designs but some
unseen power held me back. Oh! the
agony of these moments will cling to me
forever. My hair stood on my head while
the cold Precipitation burst out upon my
forehead and my limbs shook with terror.
I saw him deliberately raise the bright steel
blade, throw his head back, and after raking
it across his throat give low scream of
pain. r..
''Good gracious, Bill, did he cut his
Z throat" gasped the horror stricken crowd.
''No, he just swore that the next time the
! landlady cut her corns with. h is razor he'd
make the house so hot that blast furnace
would feel like an iceberg, Jim had apret-
ty tough beard anyhow, 'tand Bill Petterfeld
sighed a sanity sigh as six badly sold men
looked off up the street and tried to whistle
in a careless sort of a way, but the effort
proved failure, and the silence remained
unbroken until one of the crowd invited the
rest to take drink