San Marcos free press. [volume] (San Marcos, Tex.) 1877-1892, 1888-12-20

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"Comc, come, Weaver. this Is no way
to do. We are hero in the friendliest
spirit, and arc sincerely anxious to have
| you taken care of. You are n sick man.
You ought not to be alone as you arc"
well. what do you propose to do with
mey
"Why, why-talse you where you will
bo properly cared for. Of course
answered Justice McCrackcn.
"Now, that is kind, admit" said the
hermit, and hc looked at them with u
strange, amused expression in his eyes.
Believing that they were gaining ground.
they grew boldcr.
''Yes, we wish to bc kind. We can't
let you perish up here, you know"
"Well, where do you propose to take
me?"
"IIem, HIM: why, you see, Weaver
you SEQ Hillsford has 10 hospital
nnd"-
But you have fixed upon somo place
for me, presume?" questioned tho lcr.
init, in the tone Of ono about to sur.
render.
"Y-e-s," spoke up another. ave
thought we would take you to Johns
town."
"Ah, that's the county seat. isn't irs'
"Yes."
"And the county house Is near there.
isn't itt"
"Yes."
"Well, that's n good enough place for
any one who wants to go there. ! don't.
Now it is time for you to leave" and he
shut the window.
The besiegers conferred together and
again began to beat upon the door. Feel
ing moro courageous when Weaver's
wild eyes were not on them they called
to him that he must consent to 60 with
them, or they would take him by force
The window opened once more and re-
vcaled the gaunt form Of the hermit
grasping shotgun. lnstinctively the
attacking party fell back few PAGES.
The hermit spoke: 81 will blow the
head off any man who again lays q hand
upon my door. ] am In my own house,
on my own ground, and there is not low
enough in the republic to permit you to
enter and lay hand on man who is
neither criminal nor pauper. Had you
come here proifering private charity ]
should have resented 1t, but ] should
you like dogs If you trouble me a mo-
iutllL hIli tnC Kun
at them in n way that was convincing.
Grumblingly they moved away. "Ho's
right" said the justice, who had NOR.
lie owns this ground and he owns the
house. II he won't come with us will
lingly we shall have to let him alone"
or three others, anxious to cover up their
chagrin.
"He ought to be confined as danger
Gus lunatic," said the doctor, in whose
bosom still ranked Weaver's poisoned
arrow.
They reached Hillsford In crestfallen
frame of mind. all agreeing that the her
NIT might die n dozen times over before
they would put themselves out" to do
anything for him again.
Two weeks later, whom the weather
was bitter cold, Robby Hart. sturdy
12-year-old, rushed into his mothers
sitting room ono afternoon, bursting
with news. "Old Weaver's I'm town." he
painted.
His mother looked up from her sewing
machine with interest. Like everybody
else in Uillsford she knew the history OF
the fruitless siege Of the hermit's cabin.
"Ycs. he's here; awful sick, too; out
of his head, and is lying on the floor in
the back part of Hunts grocery. They're
goin' to send him TO the poorhouse at
Jolnstown."
Not in this terrible weather." said
Mrs. Hart. looking alarmed.
"Yes; right of. There's no place here
for him. they say"
mo place for poor old sick man In
all IIillsford? We are not 30 bad as that,
Robby. ! am sure"
"Oh. but I heard Judge Markle and |
Deacon White and all Of them say so |
It's settled"