The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1884-06-21

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 hypercritical, but he could
not help thinking that this was rather coarse
| language for man who knew what was
due to others, and who had ideas above
| corn and cattle. He was in no mood, how
ever, to allow anybody to speak so to him,
much less Robert Phillips. So he politely
invited him to go to place where cow
TbYs very often ask their enemies and
Sriends alike to go.
"Don't give me any o. your chin, young
chap, or I'll knock your head off," and he
started toward Billy menacingly.
Billy swore great oath and drew his
| revolver, which he was never without.
| "Keep off =" he cried. I'll 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 his
| anger at the fellows inSolence-for his
| life among the cowboys had taught him
to consider anything like threat of bodily
injury as deadly insult-but he fired his
ravines. All along he had been peculiarly
sensible of the nature of the ground, and
| had noticed even in the darkness every
| firmly grassed buffalo-wallow or billy
| group of rabbit burrows that had lain in
| HIS way y tb III plJS VI us NlulChtutNl per-
captions for little things, the great, crush
ing sense of guilt, the vague yet definite
| feeling of isolation, left their impress on
him.
His victim threw his arms wildly in the
! air, and fell heavily to. the ground. Billy
| was stunned for a moment by what he had
done. He had always heard such deeds
made light of, but he had never been an
actor, or even witness, in the broils that
gave rise to them. The reality was some
how much more terrible than he had ever
conceived it. "My God, pve killed him"
he thought, as he stood with his smoking
weapon in his hand and the fallen mans
groan ringing in his ears. The horse,
| frightened at the report, had galloped off,
| making for the open prairie, and Billy was
brought to consider his own position by
seeing light appear in the windows of
the house. Tige was barking savagely,
| and he could hear the old farmer trying to
quiet him. He heard some one call his
name, and imagined for moment that he
recognized Eva's voice.
"She has guessed what's happened"
thought Billy, land she's anxious for
him." and he turned away bitterly, with
no wish but to keep out of sight-to get
away from Eva and her kind-hearted old
father, who had always been so good to
him. The idea of escaping the penalty of
his act did not occur to him; never to be
seen or heard of again by any one here who
| had known him, was all he cared for.
He never knew exactly how the rest of
that night wore away. He struck into the
corn-feld first thinking its dark aisles
would afford him a safe hiding-place
from immediate pursuit; but he kept
| seeing in the swaying blades the
mans wildly waving arms, and in their
rustic he heard his heavy groan. "Shall
| | always remember themW he asked him.
self, as he stumbled on desperately over
the rough ground. He felt a great relief
when at last he had crossed the field, and
found himself on the open prairie beyond.
He stood for a moment on the edge of this
broad eXpanse, now buried in the dark
ness and stiffness of the night. 1t seemed
endless, boundless, great stretch of void
and awful space. In spite of his familiar
ity with the prairies, he could not keep of
a feeling of loneliness, sense of solitude
that was fearful to him. That he had need
to be alone and solitary but made hin
dread it the more. The cause of the feel
ing was identical with the reason for the
necessity; and the stiffness, the monotony
the extent, the emptiness, of the prairie
came over him with power he had never
dreamed of before. This silent, unseen
force had dwelt in the prairie and its
attributes from the beginning of time; but
he had never realized its nature and i'm
, mensity till now-and now it seemed tC
crush him. He knew the change was il
: himself, and he thought with great feal
! of the years of days and nights he was t.
, live in the widest and dreariest of thost
, unchanging prairies. 81 wonder why
can't think of the first part of my lif,
r there" he said, meaning the farm, "anC
+ not only of the last hour of it." But h,
, felt that what the last hour had brough
forth would be with him distinct and ter
rible, when all the months of trivia
! things would have become dim and fadet
in his memory.
At last he started across the prairie
. He had plan dimly shaped in his head t.
go to Speedville. He owned pony, whicl
! a young lawyer there was keeping in return
= for his use. He would claim his pony, an,
,. ride up into the Loup country. But he wan
p, dered aimlessly over the level ground with
? out thinking of the direction of Speedville
n which really lay on the other side o
! Farmer Fuller'S homestead. He woul
T have to wait till morning to get his pony
! and he would walk until he saw the dawl
a appearing in the east. 1t seemed an ag
= before the first pale CLEANS of mornin
:. broke through the long line of low clouds
, Billy had felt more i'll those few hours tina
- he had in his whole lifetime before. H
. had made his way over miles of leve
9 prairie; he had waded through the shalloy
b water of broad lagoon; he had passe,
a through the cold air of several dee
! ravines.
| az lttSU, "llcIl OIle uttW IL DeSdu W DIedk
: and the slowly Frightening east called hi
attention to his course, he found that h
! had been going away from Speedville al
: this while. He began to think more col
lectedly of the measure he should take
> and to consider more calmly his materia
, situation apart from his emotional att
u tude, when suddenly couple of horseme
rode out of the fading darkness. He wa
about to follow his first impulse and Ii
down in the grass to escape their notice
when one of them called out:
Z Hello! Is that you, Billy"
d "Who are you, and what do you want:
: demanded Billy, in reply.
! SO, there's no need for that sort of tall
Il now. The other one is caught, and you ar
7 wasting your time hunting for him aroun
1 here, dozen miles from where he is safel
3 tied in old man Fuller's barn"
!, Here Tige ran up to Billy and bega
3 to show his joy at finding him. 1t wa
!, plain how the dog had led them
e him, but what the fellow was talking abou
$ was not so evident.
Q "Who are your asked Billy again, a
Il they rode up to him.
= so yes, forgot; we have never been il
! troduced, but | have heard a good deal @
l you. Pm Robert Phillips-call me Boil
though; everybody else does-and this
1 our new hand, Jake Lewis"
Billy was more perpleXed than ever: h
Y | could understand but one thiu. -l,re wa
! the man, whom he thought he u.,d killed, il
I flesh and blood before him. He stood an
patted the demonstrative dog in silence
e trviup To see thrOupb IL all aud yyond.ri,,,