The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1883-07-06

The little rocklng-chalr In which she
sat went humping to and fro noisily
and nervously on the pine floor, and the
tiny slippered foot beat a nervous tat
too in unison with it.
"Its too bad" she cried impetuously,
sits too bad for Charlie TO work down
in that old hole in the ground all win
ter and then sell out for paltry thous-
and. And he's doing it just so that We
can be married this summer, too, -
and pretty little wave of blood swept
over the sweet neck and face
"He shan't do it. Charlie don't know
anything about mine and he may have
little bonanza and not know it,just hear
the dear simpleton.
LoGTowN, CAL
MY PRECIOUS FRANK: Bonn is negotiating
with me for my claim, and he offers 81, 900
| cash have not yet accepted It, but have
| about made made up my mind that had bet
ter do So You know if had that much cash,
| / could have the face TO ask you hasten that
| long hoped for happy day. For your sake
darling, I believe it will bebest for me to take
this offer. II do, you may look for me down
| early next week, Yours forever,
CHARLES MOTLEY.
Hello, Frank, shouted smothered
voice close to her ear, "are you there
yet 2"
Frances jumped to her feet and ran
to the telephone.
Dear me, left the receiver hanging
down, and they could not ring the
bell"
She put it to her ear and shouted
back through the transmitter:
"Yes, I'm here; what is it?"
Don't you forget to send that thou
sand up on the stage tonight to Log
town. Tom says there's at least
$4,000 in sight. Motley is school
marin and don't knowit Don't forget,
now. Good bye"
Franks pretty eyes and mouth spread
wider and wider as these words came
out of the wonderful little instrument.
For goodness sakel who is he talk
ing to? Oh-h-h y-e-es why it must
be to Frank Downey, the express agent
at Bokey. They've been talking to-
gether, and Downey has stopped and
switched my end on. Motley is a school
marin, is he? There's 10000 in sight
and Charley don't know it, and the
money is going up there on the stage
from Bokey tonight. Oh dear, what
shall do? I'll go up there. will.
It's only eight miles, and it's twenty
from Bokey. It's 5 o'clock, and the
stage gets there at 9.
Frank was a California girl and
there were no perils for her on the
eight-mile trail to Logtown, and if
there had been, the slur cast upon
Charley's keenness, and the eager de-
sire to save that 40, 1000 i'll sight" for
| him would have been sufficient incen-
tives to induce her to dare them, though
she knew they awaited her. Running
over to the postoffice, she hurredly en-
gagged the young clerk to take care of
the instrument for her, and, dashing
back to her room, she soon appeared
ready for her eight mile walk
to Logtown. A little silk
cap surmounted her head and over it
was stretched black veil to protect
her face from the sun and from the ev-
ening breeze after dark Spreading
her iaunty parasol she threaded her way
along the narrow trail which led
through the chaparral into the dark
| woods.
The sun was yet very hot, although
almost down behind the hills, and the
trail was steep and rocky, but Frank
pushed on, muttering to herself, when
she felt so tired that she was tempted
to sit down and rest, "Charley's a
school marin is he? Ten thousand dol
| lars in sight and he don't know it, eh =?
Well he shall know it, and have all the
credit of the discovery too, there now J"
| Up, up, down, down, around and around
| wound the mountain trail, and Frank
wound with it, until tired, dusty, breath
| less, hoarse, and almost crying, she saw
the county highway in the somber
moonlight, just below her.
Just as she reached the roadside and
was about to push through the chap
arral which here reached to her shout
ders she heard the rumbling old stage
coach coming around bend close to
her.
With despairing resolve to go in at
least with the stage if she could not be-
fore it, she pushed her closed parasol
through the bushes and waved it to the
driver, shouting at the same time,
hoarse from her excitement stop
Stopl"
But to her establishment and dismay,
instead of stopping, the driver reached
down into the boot, and, with "cuss
yer, take i'll" threw heavy box into
the road, and, flashing his four-in-hand
into run, disappeared down the
canon.
Poor Frank crouched down into the
chaparral in despair.
ooh, DEAR haven't walked there
and I've lost the stage and poor Charley
oh, dear mel"
The spirit of genuine California
girl is not easily overcome with despair,
and Frank was genuine California girl
and she was not to be beaten until she
was.
She got up, pulled her black veil
tighter over her moist face and bravely
started on again toward Longtown. 1t
was not far and not half hour elapsed
before she saw the lights of the little
camp scattered around in the canyon
below her.
Breathless and painting, she hurried
to the tavern. A great crowd of men
were excitedly swearing and threaten
ing on the porch. Some were in the
street cinching saddles on to their
| horses and in their midst stood BLACK