The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1889-07-11

SAO"s Lilo ustu UCcu rCRlSUCr-
ing below zero for two hours, and now was
drawing near to the twenty degree mark.
No church bells could be heard indeed that
Easter Sunday is to this day remembered
as one upon which no evening services were
held, on account of the terrible storm. Up
from the stream to which the steep banks.
separated from the house by the narrow
wagon road led, came the roar of the waters
as they dashed eastward, as if getting q
good Roadway for their long, sluggish jour
ney across the plains to the sea-
'I'll fix him, the girl heard him mutter
in his half-drunken frenzy, and then taking
a lantern from the closet he went with it
out into the night.
"What can he be doings" she thought, and
waited with breathless anxiety for his re-
turn. 1t was a long time, but when he came
it was without the light and with buster
ing and blowing that told he had been facing
the storm.
"Where is the lantern, father?" she in.
quired.
1T went out, and had to drop it, to hang
on to myself" he replied with leer.
Sheis not satisfied, but can get no other an
swer; and, as the fire is dying and the bitter
colds creeping over her flesh; she goes to the
single upstairs room of the swaying cabin,
where she prepares to sleep. Before doing
so, she peers through the curtainless win
dOws. She can see nothing, but she can
feel the dust like snow sift against her face
as it is driven through some crcvice in the
wall. All is black outside. Just as she is
turning away, however, she thinks she sees
a twinkle of light toward the river. She
looks again. Yes, surely it is there. Can
traveller be abroad in such tempeste
Surely not, for the light remains still. She
puzzles over it moment and then a thought
comes to her that makes her tremble.
It is the lantern which her father has
hung out-why? There can be but one an
swer-to misguide his rival, who must force
his way through the storm tonight and
bring through the mail and stage from the
Gulch. The light will cause MIN to turn to
the right and throw stage driver and horses
over the bank, and send them rolling to a
death plunge in the ice filled river below.
I'm his drunken fury he is not himself"
she thinks, in excuse of the deed, and deter
mines to undo the crime which was about
to be committed.
Hastily wrapping cloak around her
shivering form, she creeps back to the lower
room. Her father is sitting before the
stove, apparently brooding over his coming
revenge AS noiselessly as possible she
opens the outer door; and though the man
turns and sees her slipping through, she has
vanished into the blackness Of the storm be-
fore he can call to her.
In an instant he recognizes her errand !;
the thought of the slight girlish form bat
thing with the fearful tempest, sends the
blood back from his heart and makes a
sober man of him in a flash.
He rushes to the door and calls, tMadge! ~
with all his strength. It is of no use. Moth
ing but the wind and the roaring Smoky re
ply. Putting on his overcoat, which, ragged
as it was, would afford some protection, he
starts to the rescue. He turns the corner of
the house, and as the blast strikes him, he
is almost driven back. But he struggles
on and reaches the spot where he thinks he
left the lantern-none is there, nor can he
find trace of the daughter whose body is
somewhere being drifted under the snowy
covering. Back to the house, reached with
difficulty, he takes his course, and in agony
alternately upbraided himself and mourns
the absent child.
"Bless me, driver, but this is hairy sort
of a night and the only passenger Of the
Red Gul01 stage drew his ulster closer
about him and even then shivered little
with the cold.
eyes, we'd orter hev stopped back yender
until mornin', but the mail haz ter 90
through if we kin git it. Ye see, they is
awful pertic'lar about it an amt been on
the route before. 1 don't want ter fail on
my first trip"
'sYou don't mean to say you don't know
this road!"
"Wa'al, calc'late know it pretty well,
but amt reg'ler driver, that's all. The
horses hez ben along here often enough"
''Are there any bad places!'
Zone that's right bad, bout two miles this
side o. town, long side of Indian hill. The
roads between the hill and TIE Smoky
river. Haven (he's the old driver) used to
have light in his house along there to
guide him when he came in late 'Spect
there'll be one tonight. The horses'll just
bear off to the right O. the light, an we'll be
all O. K"
The rickety old stage numbered on for an
hour. It was quite dark and the horses,
weary and confused by the now whirling
snow, were picking out the way slowly.
"We're almost thar" volunteered the
driver, Joe Horris.
"Most whereof" asked the passenger, who
had forgotten the former conversation.
''Most to the river cut by Haven's house. :"
''Say, driver, know Haven and guess
I'll get out at the house. You can take my
things on down to the hotel, and I'll be
down in the morning.
They had reached Indian hill, and the
rivers angry roar came up from below, vie
ing with the northern blast for supremacy
of sound.
Suddenly, midway in the cut, the horses
stopped. As Horris attempted to urge them
on, q weak voice came from the blackness
beyond their heads.
s.There's somebody there exclaims the
passenger, and in a moment he is cropping
his way to the heads of the horses, and then
lifting from the drift little, girlish form
which, while being carried to the wagon,
dropped into jnsensibility and was like q
dead thing in the mans arms.
When, an hour later, the storm beaten
company drew up to the hotel and the light
Of the Office lamp streamed full upon the
girls face, the bystandera, who were
watching for signs Of returning life, were
surprised to see the stranger kiss her lips
and cheeks passionately.
s.See hyar,n blurted out Horris, s'no in.
suits, young man, in these parts. We know
Madge Haven too we'll"
'.Insults!'' repeated the youth (for he was
scarcely more), rs he relinquished his
charge to the hands Of the landlady, s'she is
my sister. y
And 30 it proved; for when he signed his
name upon the register, it read, civilian
Morris Haven, Portland. Orr"
An hour later, Ben Haven came to the
village to organize q searching party. His
fsiid whep 10 foasa his shiad 1afSs tbspah