The Grenada gazette. (Grenada, Miss.) 1885-18??, 1885-10-31


Boston's nurture could stand. Bill
Ragsdale, on his way through the
gulch, had heard, as he passed the lit
tie cabin which Boston had built near
his claim, a man crying out and groan-
ing, and, entering, found the young
stranger delirious, no fire to keep out
the freezing cold. and no food on the
shelf. This eXigency resolved itself in
to prime amusement for Bill. He kept
house, cooked for the sick man Qor,
like all pioneers, he had some skill in
border cuisine), and, though rather
skeptical rs to the efficacy of medicine,
gUt UhG OF the several doctors that
tlourished in the town. The sixth day
of his illness Boston recovered his right
mind and recognized Bill. who was
filed with precipitate rejoicipgs, "a
guess YOU amt feelin' very smart
Boston smiled feebly and shook his
head. You've been sick a long SPELL
volunteered the nurse, cheerfully.
"You about like to died" The sick
mar nodded feebly, then asked;
Am I going to get well?H
well, / calc'late thar's a chance if
ye don't git no setback-an' ye amt
agoin' to, ye know continued Bill.
brightly. Boston said nothing, but lay
watching the other with that CLASSY
stare the sick have.
II s'pose you amt got no folks
around var, hev YEP Bill asked, in a
solicitous tone.
Boston shook his head impatiently.
He thought for a long time with his
eyes fixed on the ceiling; then he
aroused himself suddenly and motioned
Bill to his side. When his companion
had seated himself on the bed Boston
laid one thin hand on his and said,
while the tears of gratitude and feeble
ness gathered in his eyes.
Il know | would have died here alone
if it hadn't been for you"
Get outl' cried Bill, Indignantly.
"Ain't we even? | guess I'd be out
han with my boots on if it hadn't been
for you'
Il don't know that | care particu-
larly about getting well, but if | do
we're partners IN all good luck.'
Bill flushed and said: Il guess you'd
better dry up now"
Boston lay perfectly still after this,
and Bill thought he was sleeping; but
after a time he saw his lips move. and
bent down to hear what he was trying
to say.
"Bill,' he whispered, "If the worst
comes, I'll like my father to know. His
name is Edward Payson, of 1928 Bea-
con street. My name is George. |
haven't made the most of my life, and
the poor old man is put out with me
now. Then there were Others
But Boston's voice sank and he fell
again into q lethargic slumber.
Bill lit a pipe and amused himself by
frequent strings and pokings at the
fire, which the wind tried to suck up
ard ont. The sick mans fleeing REM
iniscence of his broken past had sug-
gested to Bills wavering mind his W
bitter retrospections. Presently he be-
came conscious that the silence had in
some way deepened-that some hither-
to unnoticed noise had ceased $50 the
ear will become conscious of the pres
ence Of a clock by the cessation of its
ticking). Bill went 70 the bed. 1t was
Boston's breathing that had stopped!
A sudden terror took possession Of the
watcher. He felt he could not remain
alone with that deaf man and listen to
the hideous wind. He threw his coat
about him, pulled his hat over his ears,
and fed from the place.
The drifts were terrible, and the sleet
that beat upon his face was like the
touch of death. The light of the rail-
road station shone through the storm,
and toward this he struggled. The
sleepy operator in the telegraph room
started up in astonishment at the huge,
s]now-covered figure that staggered into
the room.
my pardner is dead. | wanter send
a telegraf to Boston. What'll it takeP"
"How many words9'
81 don't know" said Bill. "I'm not
up to this layout Of yourn. What's the
limit?n
Just write out"
write out?" said Bill, grimly.
40, no, I'm no purfessor in a college.
just you write exactly what tell you"
"All right"
"Just gay," began Bill, edward
Payson, No. 1928 Beacon street, Bos-
ton Got that DOWN."
Beacon street. Boston, yes said
the operator
Bill continued: II take my pen in
hand
NO." said the other. "Cut all
that"
aye see," said Bill, ap~ologetically,
g wontar hraak tho news tn the old
gent. However, you know best. Just
say that his sol George died here to-
night of newmony. Kin ye send that
word by telegraph"
The operator read:
DEADwooD, Feb. 2, ls7s.-TO Ed,Cdid Pdyson,
1923 Beacon street, Boston, Mass: Your son
died here tonight of pneumonia. viii bury
him here and AWAIT our orders.
H.. , 50 -