The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1884-06-19

Sva once m0res ana WHEN ne ,naQ soui0-
What recovered his equanimity he decided
% do nothing rash. He knew the old FARMER
on his side, and he had Eva's promise3
le remembered that harvest was coming
and tina it would be rather mean to
gave the old man in the lurch, with no
lands to be had in the county He q
met this Phillips; had only heard OF
him through Mrs: Fuller and Eva, and had
,een him once or twice at q distance. He
would be sensible and strong; he would do
his best; and If Eva married Phillips Tor
MS money, whyi he would be fortunate In
losing her.
So he turned and went back To the farm:
But when he saw that there was
IT'LL q light in the front room all his wrath
back to him. He knew 1t must be
for though, in his excitement, he had
not noticed the lapse of time, yet he had
watched the moon go down, and he reas.
oned that Phillips must have received en-.
.couragement, or he would not have stayed
SO long. He could not get to his room with
disturbing Eva n her. companions,
and he determined to wait about the out
buildings until Phillips had gone, and then
carry out his first plan. He would not even
try to see Eva before he started away to
his old and favorite occupation.
He wandered aimlessly about, taking his
last look at the dim outlines OF the house
stable and the tall, slim frame that
supported the windmill, and at the grana-
ries and corn-crib. It was in the shelter
of the last low, broad building that he had
asked Eva to marry him, the November
before. He remembered exactly how 1t
had happened. how he had been sorting
out some of the best ears for seed-corn,
while the first snow Of winter was flying
fitfully about the corners of the buildings,
and the wind whistled sharply through the
open boards. He recalled how Eva's
bright smile had lighted up the little cave
he had made at the door of the crib, when
she came TO ask for a few ears to parch-
she always parched corn on the day of
the first snow-and how her presence had
shut out the cold and storm, as the golden
corn piled high around them, had seemed
to separate them from the world. He
thought of how happy and full of Joy they
had been, and how light-hearted they had
laughed when finally, forgetting all about
her errand, she had gone to the house only
to come out to him again. But now as he
looked in through the little door where she
had appeared that November day to make
him happy, there was nothing but dreary
emptiness, and the damp odor of moulder.
ing corn.
He was not a sentimental fellow, but he
really loved Eva, and the contrast between
that afternoon and now affected him. III
never want to smell that smell again. he
thought, and congratulated himself that in
the life he was going to live he never
WOULD ne LOOKUP GOWdTuS bu0 HOUSE, bu0
light was out, and he might reach his
room without meeting any one. So he
struck across the yard, setting his lips
firmly. Just as he came opposite the sta
BILE he saw some one leading a horse out,
and then stop, apparently to tighten the
girths.
Billy wanted no interview with Phillips,
and stepped out of sight behind the build
ing, but not before he had been noticed.
"Heyl what are you prowling around
here for?' demanded the dim figure.
sits none o. your business" replied
Billy, coming out again into view.
The man scanned him closely in the UNI
certain starlight. "Ah, young fellow, il
you belong to the house, it's all right. But
you'd better get inside as quick as God
almighty III let you, and cover your head
with the bedclothes, and don't bulge until
you're called to breakfast"
Billy was not hypercritica1, but he could
not helpthinking thatt this was rather coarse
language for a man who knew what was
due to others, and VIII had ideas above
corn and cattle. He was in no mood, how
ever, to allow ANYBODY. to speak SO to him
invited him TO go to a place where cow.
boys very often ask their enemies and
friends alike to go.
"Don't give me any o. your chin. young
chap, or Tll knock your head off" and he
started toward Billy menacingly.
Billy swore a great oath n drew his
revolver, which he was never without
"Keep off % he cried. Pill let daylight
through you if you come another step.'
The other, evidently not believing he was
armed, continued to advance. Billy never
felt sure whether he was prompted more
by his jealousy and despair than by hi.
anger at the fellows insolence-for hi
life among the cowboys had taught hin
to consider anything like athreat of bodily
injury as a deadly insult-but he fred hi
revolver.
His victim threw his arms wildly in tn
air, and fell heavily to the ground. Bill,
was stunned for a moment by what he hat
done. He had always heard such deed
made light of, but he a never been al
actor, or even a witness, in the broils tina
gave rise to them. The reality was some
how much more terrible than he had eve
conceived it. "My God, pve killed bim!'
he thought, as he stood with his smoking
weapon in his hand and the fallen man
groan ringing in his ears. The horse
frightened at the report, had galloped off
making for the open prairie, and Billy wa
brought to consider his own position b.
| seeing a light appear in the windows o
the house. Tige was barking savagely
| and he could hear the old farmer trying t
| quiet him. He heard some one call hi
name, and imagined for a momen that h
recognized Eva's voice.
"She has guessed what's happened,
| GQOuRuU Oily, anu Su6'S duAtOuS lO
| him,n aud he turned away bitterly, wit
no wish but to keep out of sight-to &c
| away from Eva and her kind-hearted Of
father, who a always been so good t
him. The idea of escaping the. penalty G
his act did not occur to him; never to b
had known him, was all he cared for.
He never knew exactly how the rest G
that night wore away. He struck into tn
corn-field first, thinking its dark aisle
would afford him a safe hiding-plac
from immediate pursuit; but he KEEP
seeing in the swaying blades tn
mans wildly waving arms, and in thei
rustic he heard his heavy groan. "Shal
l always remember them?" he asked hin
self, as ne stumbled on desperately owe
the rough ground. He felt a great relic
when at last he had crossed the field, an
found himself on the open prairie beyond
He stood for a moment on the edge of thi
broad expanse, now buried in the darl
ness and stiffness of the night. 1t SCENE
endless, ~boundless, a great stretch of vol
and awful space. In spite of his. familiar
ity with the prairies, he could not keep o
that was fearful to him. That he had nee
to be alone and solitary but made hi
dread it the more. The eau Sc of the feel
ing was identical with the reason for th
necessity; and the stiffness, the monoton,
the extent, the emptiness, of the prairi
came over ulHl Will q pOWcT ue ndu u6Vt
dreamed of before. This silent, unsee
force had dwelt in the prairie and il
attributes from the beginning of time; bu
he had never realized it's nature and in
mensity till now-and now it seemed
crush him. He knew the change was j
himself, and he thought with a great fea
of the years of days and nights he was
live in the widest and dreariest of thos
~unchanging prairies. 81 wonder why
can't think of the first part of my lii
there" he said, meaning the farm, san
not only of the last hour of it." But
felt that What the last hour had brougl
forth would he with him distinct and te
rible, when all the months of trivi'
things would have become dim and fade
in his memory.
At last he started across the prairi
He had a plan dimly shaped in his head
go to Speedville. He owned a pony, whic
a young lawyer there was keeping in retur
for his use. He would claim his pony, an
ride up into the Loup country. But he wal
dered aimlessly over the level ground witt
out thinking of the direction of Speedvill
which really lay on the other side
Farmer Fuller's homestead. He woul
have to wait till morning to get his pom,