Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1888-12-05
RUN TO EARTH.

How I Captured a Counterfeite1
and Won a Wife.
The low, narrow log school-room al
the Benton Cross Roads became sud
denly quiet Not the leaf of a book
rustled, not whisper broke the I'm.
usual stillness-nothing but the dis
NAL signing of the wind outside, and
the steady patter of rain on the un-
shingIed roof. This unusual calm,
however. was of that kind which pre-.
cedes, and. indeed, prophesies, com.
ing storm; for full thirty pairs of eager,
restless eyes were fastened upon me in
anticipation of pending trouble. Twas
young man then, but little over
twenty, total stranger to that COM
munity, and enjoying my first expe-
rience as teacher; so it was but natural
that should shift somewhat uneasily
in my chair, uncertain what had best
be done. Ny eyes rested in perplexity
upon scholar seated nearly in the
center OF the room-a young woman
with flushed cheeks and brown eyes,
eyes which at the moment were fairly
blazing in angry excitement.
''Miss Elmore,"I said, finally, in a
tone meant to be very digniied and
calm. ''you will please bring that note
to my desk
The girl thus directly mentioned
rose from her seat and walked defiantly
forward, holding in one small hand a
slip Of paper. Standing before my
great desk, she deliberately tore the
note into a dozen pieces and flung them
before me without word, her great
brown eyes flashing angrily into my
troubled ones as she took a step back
ward and stood still.
Nov you will tell me who wrote this
note"
She looked straight up at me.
Il will not" was the firm answer.
For one instant our eyes looked into
each other-in mine, calm determina-
ton; in hers, angry defiance.
''You ,0iN tell me, Miss Elmore, or
be punished before the whole school"
The hot blood leaped to her clear
cheeks in a sudden food, her hands
clasped together, the dark eyes sank
to the floor.
Il can not tell-indeed, can not, :"
she said, slowly, a culver in her clear
voice; and then, as I pushed back my
chair and rose to my feet, the girl
looked up again. ''You shall not strike
-ner' she cried out, and before 1 could
speak, or hand could be raised to
prevent. she sprang through the open
door, out on the country road, and was
beyond recall.
1t required but q few moments to get
the little district school settled down
once more into its accustomed hum and
work, and then glancing out of the wet
window upon the dreary landscape, I
felt thrill OF regret steal over me as
l watched silently slight, bending
figure climbing up the long hill in the
rain. Not once even did the girl deign
to glance back, and stood there watch
ing her until she entered the little
crazy house upon the summit.
A strange girl was Barbara Elmore,
even from child, and made more so
by every thing about her. Brought
up among the toughest of surround
ings, by q harsh old man claiming to
be her uncle, she had never known the
tender care of a mother, but had been
compelled to run wild from earliest in
fancy. Willful and passionate by
nature, burdened by no home re-
straints, she had grown almost to
wolnanhood without friends and almost
without companions. Strange and
wild stories were rife in that rough
neighborhood regarding old John
Wolf. He was feared by his neighb0rs
both from his lawless deeds and ter
rible temper-so much SO, indeed, that
for years past his little cottage was
carefully avoided by every one. And
thus, with this ruffian and outcast for
her guardian. had Barbara lived alone,
the drudge and slave of the place.
Some of these shifting, uncertain
stories had already reached my ears.
and that afternoon warm feeling of
sympathy rose within me as l turned
slowly away from the window. had
been guilty OF speaking harshly to one
whose whole life had proven burden
hard to bear, who could scarcely from
her Own experience even know what
sunshine meant l was kinder and
more sympathetic for that thought, /
believe, during the remainder Of the