Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1885-12-09

Ballina Gaol for killin' bit salmon
and knockin' the breath out of one of
his lads" spoke up another.
Hes cursed EnglishmanI" yolun-
teered third.
That's robbin' us of position and
earnln' the rights of Rossanure boyin
growled fourth. MY father had il
! afore him.
ITS him that's put the agent up to
ms dom's of late-gettin' the patrol
doubled, and kapin' such tight hand
over things We can't touch a snipe but
Your nose is snatched off! All, 1t was
foine times we had when your father
rest TO his soul-was ranger, Timi'
Thus spoke fifth.
It's Elliott that's stolen the sweet
est colleen in all Rossanure from the
man that deserves her the most-ay,
and that was surest of her TIL he came
amongst usl' said another, lad in
years, casting look Of deep love and
pity at the black-browed man opposite.
Hugh Slievan said nothing, but his
eyes flashed fire, and suppressed muir
muir ran round the circle.
lis a mortal shame.' said some;
others cursed the ranger in whisper.
Wen, boys" resumed their chief
hrmly, lit seems fan example should be
made of blm. He has been weighed,
and the scale against him kicks the
beam. If any one has good word for
this man, let him say it.
! Silence-unbroken save by the roar
OF the river and the sad sough of the
/ wind fIha phrnf laId tnb hot.
the lanterns and stared quietly at its
face. Five minutes went by, and, not
one plea having been registered in the
EngliShman's favor, the chief put the
watch back into his pocket and remark
ed calmly that time was up. Then he
added carelessly-
boys, if any one or more of you
thinks John Elliott worthy of life, let
that one or more lave this assembly,
None rose, not one left The kiln.
1.-The matter is settled then-John
Elliott dies!'' said the chief; and, OPEN
ing sheet of paper on which was list
OF names, he marked that OF John El-
llot-distinguIshed already as ''dan-
gerous"-with a cross. He then han
ded the sheet to his neighbor, and il
passed in turn through the hands of
all.
When The paper came back to him,
eight black crosses doomed the ranger
to death, And, when he saw them,
grim smile of satisfaction lighted up
Black Hugh's face.
Day by day passed, and John Elliot
went about his work, little dreaming
Of the fate in store for him. The good
people of RoSSanure had begun by ha-
ting him; they were slowly learning to
like him. True, he did his duty fear
lessly-he would tell no lie to shield
himself, let alone his neighbor-he was
Oyer-scrupulous about his masters
property; but, all the same. there was
frank good-humor about the man that
won its way into the heart of every wo-
man in the barony, and quiet deter
mination that gained the respect, if not
the goodwill, of the men. lie would
serve the writ that all others refused to
serve, did he think it furthered his
masters interests. But he did not
serve it at the bayonet-point. Alone
and unarmed he would perform his
disagreeable duty; and none had the
heart to strike him where he stood, the
light of day shining in the blue eyes
full of courage and perhaps of pity.
What they might do in the dark, when
those eyes were not looking their way,
was another matter.
The doomed man often came across
the "Black Watch" some of whom he
knew personally. There was the chief
who, never showed other than the strong
dislike he felt for him. There were
Hugh Slieyan and his young brother
Mike-these two stunned him; of late
he had come TO learn the reason why.
But, Maudeen, can't give you
up!" he would mutter, as they scowled
on him in passing.
Then there was man-one of the
underkeepers on the Ballina estate
who eyinced warm partlality for him.
Elliot would sup in his house, and Tim
would seem never to tire of his CON-
pany. Tim had been told off to watch
his movements and gauge his habits,
that nothing might mar the plot in the
end; and he seemed to derive peculiar
satisfaction from this duty. The 'Black
Watch" had arranged to spare the
ranger till mid autumn. The summer
nights were short and bright-detec- /
tiOn would be easy. Besides, this was
the first blood that would be shed in the |
barony, and on the threshold of crime |
there is sometimes a, lingering.
But the hour came at last.
1t was mild afternoon in autumn. |
The robins were piping as Maudeen |
gathered the last OF her roses. She was
singing too, for that very day she had
wrung an unwilling contest from her |
mother to look with favorable eyes on
the courtship of John Elliott.
SIT will break Hugh's heart" wept |
the widow, land, oh, honey there's |
nothin' but harm will come of it-he
was dead set on ye was Hugh!"
Mother" cried the girl desparingly 1
81 will marry him as you like; but my !
heart will rive In two"
And when the widow saw how pale |
her childs face had grown, she bowed
her head in sore trouble, saying
"Iet him come then, let him come |
this John Elliott"
And Maudeen had sent off a little lad
who tended the cattle; and now at every
sound she raised her bright face, think
ing it must mean John Elliot. Present.
ly football did break the silence; Eut
it was not the Ianger-it was Biack
Hugh instead, who stood leaning heav-
lily against the farm gate.
"Good day. Dye wish to see moth
er?" asked Maudeen, sitting the pang
of fear that seized her at sight OF her
rejected lover, TO whom she had scarce
ly spoken since two months before,
when they met in the lane.
The widow could heal burns and
sprains better than any doctor. Perhaps
Hugh had hurt his arm at the forge,
thought the girl-his face was certain
ly pale, and his lips were compressed as
with pain.
ats you wish to spake with" was
the sullen answer, as he unlatched the
the gate and strobe up to her. "Mau.
deem, will ye not be after givin' me a
chance-will ye not try to love me?'
Tears crept into the girls eyes.
81 am after lovin' you, Hugh" she