Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1884-01-23
was given to young lady by the name
of FrancaS Goldsmith

W COu10 Lie
The little rocking-chair in which she
sat went humping to and fro noisily and
nervously upon the pine floor, and the
tiny, slippered foot beat nervous tattoo
In unison with it.
'.It's too bad, she criedimpetuously,
''it's too bad for Charley to work down
in that old hole in the ground all the
winter and then sell out for paltry
thousand. And he's doing it just so he
can be married this summer, to, and
a pretty little wave of blood swept over
the sweet neck and face.
"He shan't doit. Charley don't know
ANYTHING about a mine and he might
have a little bonanza and not know it;
just hear the dear simpleton:"
rS ''LoGTowN, CAL.
''MY PRECIOUS FRANK-Bonn is negotiating
with me for my claim, and he offers $1,000
cash. / have not yet accepted it, but have
about made up my mind that I had better do
so. You know if I had that much cash,
could have the face to ask you TO hasten that
long-hoped-for happy day. For your sake,
darling believe it will be best for me to take
this offer. If do, you may look for me down
early next week. Yours forever.
CHARLES MOTLEY.
Hello. Frank" shouted smothered
voice close to her ear, care you there
yet?" .z
Frances jumped to her feet and ran to
the telephone. -.l - "-
IS Dear me, 1 left the receiver hang
ing down, and they could not ring the
bell"
She put it to her ear and shouted
back through the transmitter:
d" 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 $10,-
900 in sight. Motley is a school-marm
and don't know it. Don't forget now.
Goodbye"
Franks pretty eyes and mouth spread
wider and wider as these words came
out of the wonderful little instrument
"For goodness sake! who is he talk
ing to? Oh-h-h y-e-e-si 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
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 I do? I'll go up there, 1
will. It's only eight miles, and it's
twenty from Bokey. It's 5 o'clock, and
the stage gets there at g."
Frank was California girl, and there
were no perils to her on the eight mile
trail to Logtown, and if there had been,
the slur cast upon Charley's keenness,
and the eager desire to save that $780,
900 in sigh" for him would have been
sufficient incentives to induce her to
dare them, though she knew they await
ed her. Running over to the postofice,
she hurriedly engaged the young clerk
to take care of the instrument for her,
and, dashing back to her room, she soon
appeared ready for her eight-miie walk
to Logtown. a little silk cap sur
mounted her head and over it was
stretched a black veil toprotect her face
from the sun and from the evening
breeze after dark. Spreading her jaun-
ty parasol she threaded her way along
the narrow trail which led through the
chaparral into the dark woods.
The sun was 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 she was tempted to sit
down and rest, " Charley's a school
marin is he? Ten thousand dollars
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? 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 sombre moon
light just below her.
Just as she reached the roadside and
was about to push through the chaparral
which here reached to her shoulders she
heard the rumbling old stage coach COM
ing round bend close to her.
With desparing resolve to go in at
least with the stage ifshe couldnot before
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 Stop I"
But to her establishment and dismay,
instead of stopping, the driver reached
down into the boot, and, with a "cuss
yer, take it !" threw heavy boxinto the
road, and flashing his four-in- hand into
a run, disappeared down the canon.
Poor Frank crouched down into the
chaparral in despair.
"Oh, dear I haven't walked there
and I've lost the stage and poor Charley
oh, dear me %
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 to Logtown. It was
not far and not half hour elapsed be-
fore she saw the lights of the little camp
scattered around in the canon below her.
Breathless and painting she hurried to
the tavern. A great crowd of men were
excitedly swearing and threatening on
the porch. Some were in the street
clinching saddles on their horses, and in
their midst stood Black Pete, the stage
driver.
"Don't I know? ?" he was angrily
shouting, Ct tell yer twar only mile
back, and ther cuss showed his shootin'
iron right under my nose Why didn't
[ run for it? Thar war two NV 'em thar