Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1884-01-31

ago to hurry up things? kin tell Won.
'Thatn do! This Harold is that
engineer at Blake's mine? The En-
glish fellow? How long have YOU
n-his-wifep' and he looked at
Flor with white face and stern ewes
that compelled an answer He lifted
her in his arms and looked with de-
vouring eyes into the beautiful. pallid
face, and she turned away from the
passion and gloom on the dark face
above her.
The act seemed to arouse him. He
bent and kissed the side of her face. as
he did so the fire in his heart flashed
out, and turning her face to him he
poured fierce. passionate kisses on her
lips, eyes and neck.
You're been too dainty for me to
touch, and last night you lay in his
damn him! arms. I'll burn his kisses
off your lips, and I'll see that he gets
no more Precious WJen rnteach him
whose wife you are!' He laid her on
bed and left her.
''Now, Dick, all ask of you is to
take care of her till [ get back [ won t
be long. We'll have the wedding to-
morrow if Bill Preston is alive. .
Florence raised up and looked pite-
ously at her father,
"Where has he gone, father?" Nor
ton was not cruel man, and though
he had lived wicked life no blood
had ever stained his hands, and now
his face was pale, and his heart full of
pity for the man who would soon be
before Bill Preston's vengeful aim.
Florence saw her fathers agitation
She rose and went to him and laid her
hand on his arm.
Father, tell me! Where has he
gomez"
ITO the hotel"
''And he will see-he will kill Har-
old! 0 God!' and she was gone, down
the mountain side, over stone and
brush, through the darkness to her
husband.
Before the fire, waiting for his sup
per, sat Harold Treherne. Around the
room were groups of miners and few
strangers who had just arrived on the
stage. Contrary to his usual custom
Harold was quite serious and thought
full, and the men liking him, respected
his silence while wondering what made
1.-the Boss so very quiet.
His thoughts were with his wife, and
he blamed himself for yielding to her
entreaties, and had resolved to 90 to
her fathers and bring her home to
him early the next day. A heavy hand
touched him He looked up.
''Are YOU Harold Treherne?"
81 am"
give matter to settle with you. "
Harold rose and looked inquiringly in
to the white, rigid face. You dom
know me, Harold Treherne, but | read q
She can't be but one mans wife, and
Tn that man" A pistol shot! A
man prone on his face on the floor! A
noise at the door! Harold! O Har-
old!' She was beside him; his head
in her arms; he opened his eyes,
smiled, and Flor was wife no longer.
Thursday morning, in the hut on the
mountain side wan, Wild-eycd wo-
man is standing beside q rough hunter
while the marriage ceremony is said
over them. Flor is again wife.
At the foot OF the mountain, along
| the rough road, the miners follow the
remains of their much loved Boss
or the first stages of ''its" journey
East.
The Vigilance Committee found only
an empty cabin.
Thursday night the moon rose pallid
above the pine trees, and peeped in ct
the opening of tent, beaming for 81
moment in the face that, white and
wan as the moonlight, lay on a pile of
blankets. Outside the tent, before the
fire, sits Preston smoking. Before him
is the sheer edge of the canon, and be-
low, far below, run the dark waters of
the imprisoned river. He rises, walks
slowly to the tent, looks in, turns away,
and stands gloomily,. mutters an oath,
turns fiercely and enters. He speaks
in strangely tender tones, no answer, a
struggle, a scream, and Flor stands in the
moonlight-withO one wild look around
she springs to the edge of the canon
''HarOZd" and Preston stands on the
brink of the chasm with outstretched,
empty arms.