The Pickens sentinel. [volume] (Pickens, S.C.) 1871-1903, 1888-08-09


this timel"
He made heavy dash at the person ON
the step, recovering himself with difficulty.
Those inside saw 1t was man quite
clean -shaven excepting his upper lip; that
his clothes were black, fine and old-fash-
isned; and though he held his tall hat in
one hand as he recoiled from the masters
onset, the hat had evidently been lifted be-
fore the door opened and his reooil meant
surprise.
"Ohl" Mr.. Barker snarled suspiciously
"Good evening, good evening, sir. Good
evening"
The stranger made some response in Q
nasal blur of words, concluding with an
eager question.
Mr.. Barker turned toward the other in.
mates, his terceness cooled to the tempera-
ture Of combativeness.
"ls this man speaking Latin with the con-
tinental pronunciation, Gurley, or is it
Weshl"
"Step in, SIR" invited Mrs. Barker.
"Ogrel perhaps the door better be Shut
"rhe door will not be shut" responded
her husband, "until this man can intelligibly
state his business"
ut is Painter. Good evening, Mr.
Painter" said Gurley.
Painter, seeing Phoebe, stepped upon the
sill with an exclamation.
During the rest of her life, when she tried
to set the action Of the next five minutes in
its true light, and to see the facts as they
occurred by the clock instead of through the
medium of terror which had no regard for
time, she thought Mrs. Barker exclaimed
that the other man was behind this one:
that Painter turned, saw Thanc and seized
him; then they struggled together without
apparent reason; that she ran and hid her
lace IN the lounge pillow; and Il shot, the
voices Of Gurley and the master, and the
bounding steps of some one running away
oil mingled together.
Mrs. Barker looked CHASTITY when Painter
was laid on the lounge Phoebe herself sat
moment on the floor beside the lounge
She heard Gurley ride Off for physician
and officers of justice
Afterwards she waited by the kitchen
stove while Mr.. Barker and his wife attend
ed to tho wounded man. There was no fire
in the stove, but she could see the hearth
shine through the open sitting room door,
and count bricks along the front Of the
chimney.
Here Mrs. Barker brought her a bit of
paper and in agitation told her that Painter
wrote 1t and sent 1T. She bent toward the
distant tiEeiioht to make out tie characters,
AID noticed that though traced by an un-
steady hand they were clear and beautiful.
At first merely the name James Fawcett
attracted her; then she walked to the fire
place intent only on reading what was
written, and it was: "You are my child -
James Fawcett."
"No" said Phoebe, turning toward the
wounded man and questioning him with
negatives: "Noi MOI"
One of Mrs. Barkers quilts covered him
up to the armpits. He was looking at
Phoebe with wide open and agonized blue
20 ,l,.>
like the portrait III the FaWcett library.
"Nol" she repeated, twisting the paper in
her fingers, "If'
He nodded his head, and besought her by
a gesture to come nearer. In his hands
were pencil and paper tablets which Mrs.
Barker had takon out Of his pocket for him.
He was shot through the body, and the
doctor, brought later by Gurley, could do
little moro for him than had already been
done.
MI Barker sat near his patients feet, rug
gedly silent and stern as if justice were gath
ering all forces in him His wife held a light,
resting her elbow in her palm, and looked
anxiously from Phoebe to the wounded man.
She stood behind his head and let her lamu
shine on his tablets. Sometime during the
confusion Orcutt had been walked. Phoebe
remembered hearing his mother command
his return to bed.
AS Painter beckoned again Phoebe went
to him, not reluctant but unconvinced, and
rested on the floor looking at him
Bis hand flew from side to side Of his tab
lets, and when Q gave them to her Mrs.
Barker moved step to shift the light.
''lf tried to talk" he said on paper, "you
| could not understand my voice. My deform-
ity still mortites me 50 ! can not bear to
display 1t before my child. / used to talk
thus to your mother. We had long, silent con-
! Versations, sitting side by side Her name was
Phoebe. You are her over again, little ex-
| banded. Do you remamber when You
| brought me the maple sugArr'
Instead of replying aloud Phoebe took
his pencil and wrote:
Eyes. But why have you been away from
one always9'
He put swiftly down, "becaus0 l thought
you were dead. When you carne to me
with that maple sugar l was startled, and
| my thoughts began to work. 9hen | heard
your name was Phoebe White. found the
boy Thorney was with you. Still had no
| certain proof until this afternoon when
read note you had sent by n boy through
the woods. unfoded it a. some trifling
property Of his, and read your history, even
TO Thane Whites name. Then l got ready
to come after you. drought in my breast.
pocket the papers which will identify me. l
| viz
where IkneW you lived; but they could not
lind you. So, as you had written to Mr..
Barker for help, l came directly here. You
are my child, and your name 10 Phoebe Faw-
oett. You were born eighteen years ago in
San Francisco, and your mother died when
you were two-and-a-half years old. spent
nluch time In Nevada, where was interest
od In mines. Your mother was devoted tH
me. l took pleasure in enterprise then
left home when o boy, determined to make
my family proud Of me when came bdslx
In spite Of my defect. 1t turned out dif
Ssrently. / have lived here in the woods
not caring oven to claim my rights in th'
estate. There was no one to inherit aftel
me. have covered my identity up as mucl
as possible Now it would be different. Bu
when 1 could live l must die"
He gave the tablets TO Phoebe and covered
his eyes with one hand, his mouth set witt
physical agony. She flashed over the words
and advanced o littlo nearer to him on he
knees.
But, father" she SKID, aloud.
He started from head to foot, immediate
ly whitening with the pangthis start gav'
him.
"Fathern she said again, this time af