Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1883-03-21
II wish-oh, how I wish!-Richard

81 wish-oh, how I wish!-Richard
would come tonight"
"He may" said Miss Harrod, sooth-
ingly; "the coach is late. Harkl I hear
it now, just coming down the long hill. y
Sitting in silence, they heard the
heavy stage rumble down the road and
pause ponderously brief time at the
ugly, picturesque old postotfce building
around on the corner under the cotton.
woods. They could picture the newt
able sensation among the idle crowd of
)oungers hanging over the wooden break
water there, and could imagine how the
queru'ous officials grumbled over the
mailbags. Then the great, numbering
vehicle swayed around the corral corner.
stopped at the hotel Office and-yes, q
tall, light figure sprang out, and with
long, eager steps carae forward. Char
lotte rose with one glad cry:
"Oh, Richard p
"Well, Charlie, I'm home again.
What ? crying, dear little woman Not
sorry I'm here?"
Before the tender, teasing words we're
spoken, some one lurking in the shadow
Of the cottonwoods had leaped forth;
some one with a dark, set face, trans
formed by devilish jealousy and hate;
some one with eyes that cleaned bright.
and knife that flashed brighter; some
one who would have exacted dear cost
for Richard Pleyels caress, but for Miss
Harrod's keen vision and alertness. She
caught Ramon's uplifted arm, and
dashed him back against the house,
ainglng the whole weight of her body
upon him. Richard Pleyel swung Char
lotte into the shelter of one strong arm.
and, quick as light, dropped into readi-
ness of aim the unfailing weapon of the
country.
"What does all this mean %
"He embraces her he !" cried the
maddened Mexican in the very muzzle
of the murderously leveled revolver. II
meant no harm; was here but to see
her precious face, until that-But he
embraces her, and you think I shall noe
kill him %
"You think you love Charlotte ;
Mis- Harrod's voice, low, steady in her
forced composure, cut through the air
like the plug of shot or the hiss of a
whip lash, "You think you love er,
and yet you would STAY him of all the
world most dear to her-her hus-
band p
Ramou's knife fell from his hand and
clinked on the pavement. His head
dropped.
Her-her husband, say your"
"Her husband, and the father of her
child"
Inside the open door just then baby
cry rang out. 1t seemed to exercise the
demon of insane passion and cruel hate
that had ragged in Ramon's breast. Over
his worn troubled face stole something
of the old look Of gentleness and simple
faith.
II never dreamed of this" he MUIR
INJURED; "the saints bless her little
one!"
"Well, must we stand here all night.
doing private theatricals? There is
Gerry, crying. What is this all about :?
Shall I shoot that id brigand ?"
Richard Pleyel, understanding not 4
work of the dialogue, full OF wrath and
perplextty, restrained his natural i'm.
pulse, fearful of acting with wrong. head
ed haste, and Unidentified himself for
that seif-control by opening the safety.
valve of profanity.
"No, cried Miss Harrod, "no, oh. no!
It is all mistake. He thought you
some one else."
"a pleasant prospect for "some one
else, ," said Richard, grimly, "and q
large and enthusiastic reception for
me-.
When Ramon had gone uncertainty
around the shadowy corner, Miss Har-
rod renewed the sensation. For the
first time in her life she quietly swooned
away. She had done her part; she had
striven to guard his wife from the very
knowledge of evil, and she had saved
the life OF the man she had loved long
before he bad known Charlotte.
Later Richard Pleye], revolving the
situation slowly in his mind, announced
his intention Of finding Ramon. Eel
lows who make such mistakes should be
put under restraint. They are danger
Gus in the character of strays." And
Miss Harrod, conque1ing the deadly
physical weakness that overcome her,
upon being of the party. The
search was not attended with signal and
success. They found Ra-
mons rooms; they found shattered frag-
ments and pieces broken in firing; they
found beautiful bits he had finished,
glazed and glittering; heap of unused
clay and silent wheel, and they found
the Mexican potter dead among his
work, his lifeless face resting upon his
lathe.