The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1886-05-14

The fork Of the tree stood that heigh'
from the ground.
| 4 low whistle broke from the lips O.
the three men, and Cornish Tom
knocking the ashes out of his cult,
pipe, rcfilled 1t with more than usua
care and deliberation.
They followed his movements, know
ing he had something important to say
Pressing the tobacco into the bowl Of
his pipe with his left thumb, he said:
Il reckon we're in for tight job.
We've about three days grub in the
tent, and there's no getting any more
within twenty miles Of this. The snow.
storms going to last, and I'm blessed
il l see how we're going to fight it out
in this gully! Well have to make our
way out of it,
'.And leave behind. us claim that's
turning out an ounce of gold to the
! tub?"
That's So"
'With the chance of never being able
to find the place again.
Fright you are"
No one ventured to dispute long with
Cornish Tom; he was known not to be
fond of giving idle opinions.
SWELL" said Gentleman George, 81
reckon there's no help for it. I was
once told by a shepherd that places
like these were showed in at this season
of the year sometimes for months to-
gether."
"The only thing we can do" said
Cornish Tom, sis to try and hump it
back tomorrow. It'll be no easy Job,
and it'll take time. Did any of YOU see
smoke rising from the next gully this
morning?'
NO" they all replied.
''The men there have made tracks,
then, knowing it would be death TO
stop. Wen have to follow their exam
pie, mates. An eternal shame it is that
when we've found rich gully like
this we should have to run away from
it! Why, we could make pile in six
months! wonder what sort of ground
they've been working in the next sul-
ly."
81 wonder if they're well off for pro-
visions, "speculated Gentleman George.
''It's all very WE'LL" said Dick
Driver, speaking very slowly, ''to say
that we shall have to follow them; but
it strikes me we shan't be able to get
out of this as easily as we think. Look
here" and he kicked the side of
the tent against which mass
of accumulated snow was he avily press
ing; there's a big drift setting in; the
old tracks are rubbed out, and if the
fork is buried, we might as well try to
walk through the sea as attempt to get
out that way. l shouldn't be bit
surprised if we were never to get out
at all. Hark! What is that?''
They inclined their heads and lis
tened. The only sound they heard
was the rushing of the wind past the
tent.
''Did you hear anything?" they
asked of Dick Driver.
81 suppose it was fancy" he replied.
"At such time as this man amt ac-
couHtable for everything that passes
through his mind. was never given
much to religion; if 1 had been, l
should say my prayers twice over to-
night"
The only answer Gentleman George
and Cornish Toni gave to this was a
steadier putting at their pipes. They
were well aware of their danger, but
they did not care to talk overmuch
about it. Indeed, every man in the
party but one had, before this time,
grasped the full extent of the peril
every man but William Fairfield. He
had not clearly realized it until this
night, and now it came upon him with
20. To l,oo ~
be buried here, and lost to the world
forever! Never 70 see dear Devon
again! Never again to see or hear of
Laura! An intense and burning desire
seized him to see and speak with her;
for he loved her still-lOved her dearly.
1t was maddening to think he should
never look upon her face again.
'Would it have been better for me-"
he thought, distracted by remorseful
doubts, mot to have seenp 1t would,
for should not have known; should
have been blessed and happy; and
now"
He went again to the door, and,
needless of the almost binding snow,
stepped out. He strained his gaze
across the hills, AS if he hoped by so do
ing he could conjure up Warleycombe
in the distance. And if he could have
done so-if at that moment vision of
what was passing there had dawned
him, what would he have seen and
heard? |
He would have seen Laura sitting
listlessly at her favorite window, over
looking the garden, now radiant with
loveliest gifts. He would have
observed how thin and pale she had
grown in the few months that had
passed since Christmas. He would have |
seen her gazing wistful look far, far |
beyond, as though she too were striv- |
ing to annihilate space, and look again |
upon the form Of the man she loved,
for she had not turned her heart from
him. and had he presented himself |
to her she would have taken him to
her breast, and wept over and forgiven
him.
He would have seen her father enter |
softly and stand by her side, with his |
hand on her shoulder. He would have |
heard Reuben Harrild say:
'.The old wound. child?"
''The old wound, father she an |
swers, sadly; lit will never, never be
healed"
"Child, child" Reuben Harrild cries,
she is not worthy of you
She lays her fingers on his lips.
s'He is mistaken, father, and has mis- |
Judged me. He will know it soon, per-
haps does now, and thinks better of |
me. Oh. that he were here, that might |
tell him forgive him.
And later on. when Laura was alone,
William would have seen her on her
knees. her prayer being that her lover