Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1886-05-05

skeptical as To the efbcacy vi medicine,
got one Of the several doctors that
hourished in the town. The sixth day
Of his illness Boston recovered his right
mind and recognized Bill. who was
filed with precipitate rejoicipgs. III
guess you amt fcclin very smart" "
Boston smiled fccbly and shook his
head. You've been sick long spell.
volunteered tho nurse, chcerfully.
"You about like to died" The sick
man nodded fcebly, then asked;
Fam going to get wellP"
well, 1 Gale late thar's a chance II
ye don't git no setback-an' We amt
agoin' to, 20 know" continued Bill.
brightly. Boston said nothing, but lay
watching the othor with that CLASSY
stare the sick have.
IL s'pose you amt got no folks
around var, hcv YEP" Bill asked. in a
solicitous tope.
Boston shook his head impatiently.
lie thought for long time with his
eyes fixed on the ceiling; then he
aroused himself suddenly and motionod
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.
II know l would have died here alone
il 1t hadn't been for you"
"Get out!' cried Bill, Indignantly.
"Ain't we even? l guess I'd be out
thar with my boots on if it hadn't been
for you"
II don't know that / care particu-
larry about getting well, but If do
we're partners IN all good luck"
Bill flushed and said II guess you'd
better dry up now"
Boston lay perfectly still after this,
and Bill thought he was sleeping; but
after 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 1923 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 lethargic slumber.
Bill lit pipe and amused himself by
frequent STRINGS and pokings at the
fire, which the wind tried to suck up
and out, The sick mans ileetipg REM
iniscence of his broken past had sug-
gested to Bits wavcring mind his own
bitter rctrospections Presently he be-
came conscious that the silence had in
some way decpencd-that some hither-
10 unnoticed noise had ceased $50 the
ear will become conscious of tho pres
ence of clock by the cessation Of its
ticking). Bill went TO the bed. IL was
Boston's breathing that had stopped!
A sudden terror took possession of the
watcher. He felt he could not remain
alone with that dead man and listen to
the hidcous wind. He threw his coat
about him, pulled his hat over his ears,
and fled from the place.
The drifts were terrible, and the slcet
that beat upon his face was like the
touch of death. The light of the rail-
road station shonc through the storm,
and toward this he struggled. The
sleepy operator in the telegraph room
started up IN establishment at the huge,
snow-covered figure that staggered into
the room.
MY Partner is dead. l wanter send
telegraf to Boston. Whatll it take?"
How many words?"
- don't know" said Bill. Pm not
up to this layout Of yourn. What's tho
limit?"
Just write out"
Write out?" said Bill, grimly.
go. no, I'm no purfcssor in college.
Just you write exactly what tell you"
"All right
"Just say" began Bill, Edward
Payson, No. 1928 Beacon street, Bos-
ton Got that DOWN."
deacon street, Boston, yes" said
the operator.
Bill continued; ~ take my pen in
hand"
mo-" said the other. "Cut all
that"
"Ye see" said Bill, apologetically,
~ 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 yc send that
word by telegraph
The operator read:
DEADwooD, Feb g. Is,s.--To Edvord Pavsou,
1923 Beacon street, Boston, Mass: Your son
died here tonight Of pneumonia. VIII bury
him here and await your orders.
BILL RAGspALE.
That's right. I'll have him buried
here till the old man comes. Now,
young Teller, Pm dead broke, but tell
you what'rl do. Here's my gun. I'll
leave it in hook with you till make a
raise. Is it a bargainP" The operator
was glad to oblige Mr.. Ragsdalc, and
told him that the arrangement was en-
tirely satisfactory. Bill stood by tho
stove moment
Poor Boston," he muttercd, poor
Boston. A man can't tell when his
turns comm" Then he passed out
into the storm and the wind changed
and the door after him.
BY six o'clock in the morning the
storm had ceased, and u party of min
ers, passing along the railroad track,
found not one hundred yards from tho
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 exposure a few hours later