Indian chieftain. [volume] (Vinita, Indian Territory [Okla.]) 1882-1902, 1886-10-07

was gray, rhtllN 0dWn, Withthe ohrk-
hess OF nigal still lingering IN patches
along the skirts of The forest. Frost
had whitoned the brown leaves and
hung like hoary powder from the stems
of the grass. Walter passed the house,
well on the left, near the great barn,
and was looking over the crest OF the
hill He was beneath the spreading
branches of a giant oak. He turned
about and gazed upon the great farm
house, that house which contained tho
only being he evor sincerely loved.
How far was she from himP Would
she despise him when she knew that
he was connected with the bandits and
highwaymen of Preston FlatP Tho
house was quiet, but anon he heard
persons walking about
"They will be out soon, and | must
not let them find me here, said Wal
ter
The sun now began to slowly ascend.
Walter turned and fixed his eyes on
the glorious orb. Supremely bright.
Il rose above the horizon flooding the
entire valley with golden light Wall
tors whole attention was turned to-
ward the rising sun; he felt strong
impression that II might be the last
dawn he would witness. Great events
must transpire before another would
come.
"Glorious sight what an emblem Of
purity" said Walter, feeling quiet
enthusiasm. "Is 1t possible that clouds
could ever come to shut out such ra-
diant light. VIII the weight upon my
heart ever be removed. and will my
hopes ascend as bright and glorious as
the sunPn
He was silent Happiness had
never been for him, and though his
mother had so often said: ut is dark
est Just before dawn" he was on the
verge of despair. There was even a
pleasure in the sadness that burdencd
his soul.
While standing thus he heard a faint
rustic in the path behind him, and
turning quickly about, he was aston
lshed to find himself face 20 face with
Pinkoy Miles. She uttered low cry
and was in the act of turning to fly,
"Pinkoy, Pinkey-- Miss Miles. do
not be alarmed, it is L. said Walter,
in a low, earnest voice.
"Why are you hereP' she asked.
after moments silence.
81 staid near here last night, Pinkey
excuse me for unwonted familiarity
I mean Miss Miles, and came here
to see the sun rise, and have q look
the old place once more, before leav
ing It perhaps forever. | did not eX-
pect TO meet any of the family, much
less yourself"
Pinkey's dark eyes were downcast,
and an expression Of the deepest sad
ness stole over her face, and a mo-
mepts silence ensued.
" Forgive me, Miss Miles, for tres
passing on your fathers grounds; |
had no evil intentions. and assure you
this will be the last time"
"Are you going away from Bush
villeP" Pmkey at length asked, with
Just little anxiety in her tone.
Il shall soon, Miss Miles. l have
suffered more in Preston Flat than
ever thought a human could endure; it
seems that here have no friends. MY
every act and thought are miscon-
strued. and am regarded with suspi-
cion by all. Were / the greatest Grim
inal on earth, people would not regard
me with more suspicion, | know,
Pinkey-forgiye me for calling you by
that name-but ] know you have heard
these rumors. They are false; | swear
to you by all my hopes of Heaven that
they are false. / care not what others
may believe of me am innocent.
II know it, the girl said, hardly able
to repress her rising tears.
THANK Heaven for that! o, that
your father could only believe it, too. "
lie would but for one thing, Wal
ter" said Pinkey.
"What Is thatr' asked the youth,
eagerly. eff / only knew | might
convince him Of my innocence.
ut is one circumstance, and only
one by which you are suspected by IA
ther. On the night Of the attack on
Mr.. Brown, when father rescued him,
he inquired for you, and brother John
and Ben as soon as he came home.
You were not here, and came in an
hour or 50 after the wounded mans ar
rival That was late ut night, and wo
all supposed you in bed"
"Pinkey, | viii tell you and must
ask your pardon rs | do so. II | can
convince you Of my innocence care
not what the world NAV think. | could
not sleep that night-my soul seemed
on fire. The cause was yourself, and
the utter hopelcssness Of my ever be-
ing worthy OF you. | arose and
slipped down the stairway unseen. and
almost unconsciously l followed the
forest road to the school-house. along
which we-or WAS so happy return
ing from church. Each tree and shrub
there seemed dear TO me. ! fingered
long by the way. My thoughts were
Of you, and Heavens, il l could have
died that night, how much better it
would have been. How much misery
l would have been spared"
The reader may smile at Walter, yet
how many have had experiences sim
liar TO this. Many are the long lone
some walks taken by the lover. down
wooded paths, perhaps grown dear by
tender associations In after life such
things are regarded as among the fol-
lies of youth; yet at the time they are
realities, giving the most intense pleas
ure or pain.
Walter paused a moment after hay-
ing concluded the above, striving to
meet the eyes Of the timid girl before
him; he said:
"Pinkoy, what have told you Is the
truth. / never intended to tell any
mortal Of that nights walk; ] would
not tell another even II i should hang
for crime / never committed. More
dear 10 me than life itself are honor
and the knowledge that you believe
me innocent. The time win come, and
soon, too, when the world will know l
am innocent; but will perhaps not be
alive then. | want to know now,
Pinkey, do you believe me innocent?'
Il do, she answered, with emotion
and oarncstness. 81 know you not
only TO be innocent Of crime, bun
manly and honorable"
Thank you! Now farewell, per-
haps foreverr' He took her little hand,
which trembled, within his own a mo-
mcnt Pinkey's head was turned away,
for she dared not lot him see the tears
in her eyes.
WIu, Mt ska 1oaT..I Nr.Ito. ...-