The Middlebury register and Addison County journal. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1883-1885, 1885-10-30

| "oo"I SCltInp well, DuJ IL L 90 we re
partners in all good luck"
Bill flushed and said: 81 guess you'd
better dry up now.'
Boston lay perfectly still after this,
and Bill thought he was sleeping; but
after time ne saw his lips move, and
bent down to hear what he was trying
to say.
"Bill," he whispered, 'ff the worst
comes, I'd like my father to know. His
name is Edward Payson, of 1928 Beacon
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 lethargic slumbcr.
Bill lit pipe and amused himself by
frequent strings and pokings at the
fiie, which the wind tried to suck up and
out. The sick mans flcetng reminis~
cencc of his broken past had suggested
to Bills wavering mind his own bitter
retrospections. Presently he became
conscious that the silence had in some
way deepened-that some hitherto I'M
noticed noise had ceased $50 the ear will
become conscious of the presence of a
clock by the cessation of its ticking).
! Bill went to the bed. 1t was Boston's
breathing that had stopped! A
sudden terror took possession
of the watcher. lie felt he
! could not remain alone with that
dead man and listen to the hideous wind.
He threw his coat about him, pulled his
hat over his ears, and fled 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 railroad
station shone through the storm, and
toward this he struggled. The sleepy
operator in the telegraph room started
up in astonishmcnt at the huge, snow
covered figure that staggered into the
room.
"My pardner is dead wantcr send
a telegraf to Boston. What'll it take?n
GLOW many words2'
81 don't know" said Bill. '1'm not
UP to this layout Of yourn, What's the
limit?'
"Wrte OUT" said'Bill, grimly. con,
no, Pm no purfessor in college. Just
you write exactly what l tell YOU"
"All right"
"Just say" began Bill "'Edward Pay
son, 1928 Beacon street, Boston, Got
that down."
Beacon street, Boston, yes" said the
operator.
Bill continued: 81 take my pen in
hand"
"No said the other "Cut all that"
eye see," said Bill, apologetically.
81 wanter break the news to the old
gent. However, you know best. Just
say that his son George died here to-
night of newmony. Kin We send that
word by tclcgraph"
The operator read:
DEADwooD Feb. ,, 1S7S-To Edward Pay
son, 1923 Beacon street. Boston, Mass. y our
son George died here tonight of pneumonia.
VIII bury him here and await your orders.
BILL RAGSDALE.
"That's right. I'll have him buried
here till the old man comes. Now,
young Teller, I'm dead broke, but I'll tell
you what I'll do. Here's my gun. I'll
leave it in hook with you till make a
raise. Is it a bargain2" The operator
was glad to oblige Mr.. Ragsdale, and
| told him that the arrangement was en-
tirely satisfactory. BIZ stood by the
/ stove moment.
poor Boston," he muttcrcd, 'poor
| Boston. A man can't tell when lis turns
4 comm" Then he passed ont into the
storm and the wind changed the door
after him.
BY six o'clock in the morning the
storm had ceased, and party of miners,
| passing along the railroad track, found
not 100 yards from She station, the dead
/ body of Bill Ragsdalc. 1t was frozen
stiff, but two rough holes in his forehead
showed that he had not died from expo.
sure a few hours later DR.. Morgan
rode stalwart broncho as far up the
/ gulch as he could 90, then dismounted,
and, after great difficulty, reached the
door Of Boston's cabin. lie entered and
found Boston the only occupant. There
were only q few embcrs on the hearth.
He uttered an exclamation and turned
to the bed. Boston made a slight mo-
ton with his head and asked feebly:
"Whe:es Billp
81 don't know" said the doctor.
GLOW do you feel to day"
"Better, but l was very bad last
night" The doctor blew up the emhers,
put on more wood, tucked the blankets
about Boston and began looking for
something to cook. Flows the chest
and back he asked.
Every little pain" said Boston. 81
wonder where Bill is" The doctor was
busy in the manufacture of broth and
did not hear him. He administered
some medicine and gave the patient two
applications. 1.-The turning point is
passed. he said to his patient, ''you'rc
bound to get we'll, now" Then he re
turned to town. but came back in tho
afternoon with Mary and a supply of pro-
visions. "Don't tell him about Bill, -
he cautioned. The next day he called
again. Mary was sleeping in corner
and Boston was sitting up in bed. In
two days more Mary came back to town,
and Boston, pale and very weak, was
walking about the cabin. lie had heard
Of Bills death, and turned down anothe,
sombre leaf in his book of memories. The
terrible storm had swept down the tele-
graph wires, and among the delayed
messages received by the operator about
a week after Bills death was the follow,