Crawford avalanche. (Grayling, Mich.) 1879-19??, 1885-06-11
aNews," he cried, throwing hinself


into my big chair.
"Good or bad ?" asked Muriel, beam.
ing upon him like sunbeam.
bad, of course" Ihazarded. "What
is it9 Has somebody got the rogues
gallery away from mel"
"Good," smiled Muriel, hopefully. 81
knew l should succeed at last"
Hugh fastened his big gray eyes upon
each of us in turn. what do you sup.
pose it is, girls?"
BLACK Eric has returned like fairy
prince, with chariot lined with gold,
after the beautiful maiden who believed
in him." cried Muriel, breaking her
promise for once.
Nothing ever excited her fears; but
Hugh, seeing that was filed with APP
prehension, replied soberly and at
once:
ut is good luck, Myrtle. Muriels
picture is sold, and your fathers, also,
and / have buyer for as many more
as you will part with"
1t was true, although could hardly
realize it. An Eastern picture dealer
was in town, had noticed the pictures,
had liked them and paid an almost
fabulous price for them, we thought.
He was coming on the morrow TO see
our entire stock.
What time we had unpacking and
busting those cid pictures that evening.
Hugh remained with us till midnight,
and when he left us our task was done,
and we awaited with beating hearts the
coming of the stranger.
9M1,r.o1 ora x.,o ~ 20. 1ox1 oxxo....
thing is here except the prince" said
the next evening, as we stood with what
was to us unparalleled wealth in our
hands, one-third of our pictures gone,
promise of larger order, and Muriel
with every picture she could paint en-
gagged.
"The prince is here" she replied,
gazing fondlY- up at. Hugh. Il shall
Don't" i cried, sadness coming to
me in the midst of all my JOY.
"You forget your promise, darling"
said Hugh, softly, to Muriel, as went
back to my work-room to hide the tears
in my eyes.
We took cottage after that, instead
of living in my Photographic rooms.
Here Muriel painted and ] spent my
few leisure hours. l gave up the tin
types and the rogues' gallery, for they
we're unnecessary now, for papa's
pictures turned out to be indeed for
tune. Muriel, too, became the fashion,
and money and society she had until
she tired of them.
Mrs. Scarboro turned with the tide,
and made friends with Hugh and
Muriel and myself, and went about
town raving over miss Maxton, the
artistic, to whom my son is engaged"
She also kindly offered to bring me
Ra lt this could not allow in inst 5aSs
to be contented with my lot-nearly.
Muriel and her lover were married
and took an active part in all the fes-
tivities, never once thinking or caring
what society or the votaries of fashion
thought of me.
One day heard como one coming up
the stars, ard turned to confront
"Black Eric"
He was dark and handsome as ever,
and there were no officers with him now.
He took off his hat with the utmost
politeness, and, as he grasped my
hand, said:
Il told you I should come some day,
Miss Maxton, and here am. thought
1 would reclaim my picture from the
rogue gallery"
1t seemed that he had proven himself
innocent after all. The real "Black
Eric" had been caught and lynched in
far Western town. He had brought
rafarepces enough to satisfy even the
| most skeptlcal as 10 MS character and
position in society.
He accompanied me home and insist
ed upon laying these all before Hugh,
who thought all this unnecessary if he
only wished to reclaim lis picture.
We found out his real business after
a little, though, and now in my elegant
drawing-room in San Francisco hangs a
picture painted by my famous sister
named "Black Eric the Bandit" and
my husband declares it bears strik-
ing likeness to himself.