Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1888-11-21
his faithful horse welcomes him with a
prolonged neigh.

his faithful horse welcomes him with a
neigh.
The morning sun shines brightly over
the tall peaks that rise almost perpen-
dicularlv above the little tavern, and
Helen Baxter leaning out of her open
window with heart beating with such
peace and JOY as it has never known be-
fore, thinks that she has never looked
upon clearer or brighter day. For
he, the wanderer and exile,i returning,
and with brother who loves her de-
votedly and lover who adores her
"She is queer girl indeed who would
MT be content with these" says Helen
as she gazes at old Sol with the delight
and steadiness of the bird whose carved
image hangs just above her head.
"What's that ?" says voice beneath
the window, and looking down she saw
young Willoughby standing, with his
hands in his pockets, his hat on the
air about him.
go, is that you, Sam Wait"
She runs lightly down the rickety
side room whose open window over
looks her smoll garden, beckons Sam to
their favorite trysting place.
He walks up quite leisurelv, but she
does not notice his peculiar manner, for
is not the image OF another man before
her eyes as she looks joyfully out ON
that beautiful summer morning? Sam
thinks there is, and with reason, too,
for he was the jealous eavesdropper of
the evening before, and had heard
enough to convince him that his Helen
was behaving badly, and needed some
reproof, which he would presently give.
80, Sam % says Helen, leaning out of
the window and speaking in whisper,
1--WE got something to tell you"
The young ranchman looks up in sur
prise. Is confession of her coquetry
coming, and shall he forgive her, and
take her to his heart again? And if he
does, what pledge can he exact that the
performances of that evening will not
be repeated?
While he is hesitating on this impor-
tant matter, she gives him another and
more disagreeable surprise.
But I'm not going to tell you, Sam,
just yet"
This is too much for his patience.
mol don't think you will tell me-
you're ashamed to!" ne blurts out an
grily. "But I'll tell you something. I
was passing, by accident, last night,
and [ heard thing or two"
"What did you hear?" she asks anx-
iously.
"Heard him call you DEAR" con-
fesses Sam, looking somewhat sheepish,
as he notes her perfect self-possession
even In the face of this damaging evil
dence of a witness who 'swas there"
i'll ~.
window and laughs till the tears come
his suspicious manner.
"Dear SAM" she says, when the
laughing fit has passed, 81 can't explain
it to you now, but you'll have confidence
in me, even if a strange man did call
me dear Won't your
He hesitated for moment, but her
hand is stretched invitingly towards
him, and her face beams so lovingly
upon him, that every suspicion vanishes
for the time, and he seals his admission
Of confidence with many Kisses
Going around to the stable some half
hour later he meets Silas, who is smok-
ing an old cob.
"Goin', eh ?"
Eyes," says Sam shortly, for the
gray, weazle-eyed old man, whose name
is synonym in those parts of all that
is mean and cowardly in human nature,
is no favorite of his.
AS he saddles the mare and leisurely
her, he bethinks him that
word of warming may not be lost on the
old man.
''Say, Uncle ST, I s'pose you're on the
lay for new customers?" he asks, care
lessly.
Depends" replies Silas, smoking
placidlv.
"If they can pay the shot? Well, the
one | mean can"
"Where is he? ?" asks Silas. still with
out much interest.
He was here last night. P'raps you
didn't notice him-mightn't ha' spent
next time !" and Sam laughs.
"Why will he ?"
He said he'd bring his pile with
him."
s'Whar did he make his piie?'
Crock Point. He was goin' after it
last night. Keep your eye on him, I'm
Gle Si.''
Sllas mods approvingly, and the young
man rides away, his mind at rest, tor
we'll he knows the stranger can have no
more stolen interviews with Helen,
with Silas now forewarned about pro-
spective custom.
THAT greedy old cuss'll be on the
lookout for him. he mutters, as he
5urns his mares head up the north
road. ''Blest if drummer of 20 ID be
more lively after trade"
Silas sits quite still on the old tree
stump, smoking with a tranquil look on
his weakened face, but his thought have
taken direction they have not known
for years. Every one in Bokersville
knew of his passion for money, but
they were unaware of the WAYS and
means he had formerly used in its aecu-
mutation.
Many stories were told nightly over
bis home-brew and pilsener Of daring
stage robber who had infected those
years ago; and the. honest
miners would swear roundly at such do
gns and the ranchmen would VOW they
would have shot the fellow down with
out mercy, unconscious that the man
they so violently denounced was none
other than their stolid host.
Silas had pursued his doubtful calling
until one memorable moonless night
when he unexpectedly s'held up" his
own son. Joe flashed his lantern on the