McCook weekly tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 188?-1886, 1884-03-06

with books and shawls, the patter of
| great drops sounded on the roof, and in
q moment the outside world was mist
of driving rain and rushing wind, be-
fore which the great trees bent like sap
plings, and the flowers laid their broken
heads on the drenched earth, and looked
up with pitiful tear-wet faces to the an
cry sky that an hour before had been
blue and smiling as an infants eyes.
"Open, ye inhospltable doors,
spouted the irrepressible Jack, striking
the panels with such force that the
crazy latch gave way and the entire
party surged into the wide, musty hall,
from which opened large, dark par
lor, sparsely furnished with dingy cur
tains and a few moth-eaten touches
and chairs.
"Ugh! it's damp and musty," cried
little Kettle Trevor, 'tip-tilting her dain-
ty nose in disgust.
"And haunted, too" concluded her
brother Jack, looking at her with sol
emn eyes.
e'Haunted!'' Kettle would have
screamed, but her particular cavalier
was examining the dismal prospect from
one of the many diamond-paned win
dows, and she wisely concluded that it
would be a waste of breath.
TELL us the story, jack
A dozen voices chimed in the re-
quest, and nothing 10th, Jack seated
himself on the edge of faded chintz
sofa, and began in deep, sepulchural
tone, that accorded well with the
shadows and general mustiness of the
place:
"You may not credit the facts, my
friends, but considerably less than half
century ago these rooms, now so 81
lent and deserted, were filled with
gay company, and jest and dance made
the hours fly merrily enough. The
owner of the old mansion had brought
to its roof bride, bonny young
thing, according to tradition, and a
year after an heir appeared to COM
plete their felicity. All went merry as
marriage bell till the poor young
mother discovered that her liege lord
was given over to an Unsuitable love for
strong stimulants. Unfortunately, the
shock broke her heart, and one fine
day she died.
"And what became of the othersP"
"That is as far as my information,
derived piecemeal from the aged father
of our landlord, extends concluded
Jack. 81 only know that the father
finished his days in disgrace, and died
alone and solitary in this old house,
which is haunted, the superstitious
neighbors aver, by his restless ghost"
Md Tob~.rH, loI ~ ou%:oo
the tickle Kettle to seat in the window
that overlooked the tangled, neglected
garden. The others were conversing
in pairs, and Mark Hunter stood alone
and unheeded in the doorway, heavy
shadow on his face. Meg Beckwith,
looking up from the book whose con-
tents she was carelessly scanning, saw
the shadows, and sudden look of pitt
full intelligence crossed her own.
ssMr. Hunter-Mark, she whisper
ed, crossing the room unnoticed, and
laying one hand on his arm, 81 see it
all now. Oh, why did you come
hereP"
elbow could foresee this visit?" he
responded, his low tone penetrating no
farther than her attentive ear. Gre
member that when. we left our pretty
picnic ground in Horman's Glade we
expected to return Immediately to the
hotel, and not to this abode of dismal
memories, whittier the storm has driven
u.s."
"Ladies," said Mark suddenly, in his
usual everyday voice, ssthere must be
some quaint old chambers above, to
which yon long duskv staircase leads.
Who feels in a mood for explorations"
ssNot To answered Kettle, happy in
the company of her cavalier.
''Nor l." repeated Miss johnson,
thinking of dust, spiders, and her
mauve sateen, all in one.
The others were engrossed in Jack !
Trevor's nonsense, and Meg, gather
ing her blue skirts closely about her,
swept them a half-mocking, half-dis-
dainful courtesy from the doorway.
81 am going to lay the ghost,'' she
announced, and moment after stood
breathless on the broad landing above,
her arm closely clasped around Marks
as she looked beyond, half affrighted
at the gloom and dreary silence of the
place.
fastening her footsteps little, he
led her into large low-ceiled room,
barely furnished, like the parlor below,
and opening wooden shutter, let in
the cold grey of the afternoons waning
light. Meg's face was in the shadow,
but the few rays that struggled through |
the dusty panes fell full upon his coun-
tenance, and faint flush colored her
cheeks as she noted the eager express
sion that rested on it.
Without speaking he drew letter
from his pocket, and held it toward
her. She glanced at the address, ejac-
ulated the one word, ''Phillip," and
without opening it put the missive aside
with firm hand.
"Nay," he said, and his strong lip
auivered under its covering of dark