Wichita eagle., 1889-05-11

OF luz KimoaH argued. A correspondent
always has to venture something.
For full ten minutes he struggled with
his better nature, but the devil finally con-
quered, the journalist got ahead of the
friend. At one o'clock the wires carried
the intelligence far and wide that Ben
Hodgson, the most popular stage driver in
Dakota, was dead. Now Kimball was not
by any means unfeeling, only he was
newspaper man. Hodgson's death must be
made use OF like any other event OF inter-
est 1t was not that he loved Ben less, but
nls journalistic reputation more.
The article in his own paper, however,
was model of discretion, because of
Venice's exceeding sensitiveness. Kimball
never forgot that he had once been waited
upon by committee and respectfully re-
quested to keep all mention of the weather
out of the new daily on pain of finding him
self and his carpet bag without the city
walls so the Tornado simply referred to
the blizzard as rather pronounced storm,
such as might have occurred in Massachu-
sets or New York or Virginia even There
was nothing in the article to offend the
most fastidious taste or to iniure in any
way the emigration to Dakota.
The next day as soon as possible after the
storm had cleared away, parties were sent
out in search of the missing stage-drIver
But before they came back in walked Hodg-
son himself, cold and hungry and weak,
but otherwise none the worse for his ex-
perience. He had found shelter in de-
serted hut left by some one who through
its means had obtained claim. Over a
bowl of punch that evening he was duly
congratulated both on his deliverance from
death and his approaching marriage With
in forty-eight hours he would be off for
Sleepy Eye, and he was in the seventh
heaven of happiness. Klmball was scarce
ly less delighted than Ben, for he was
greatly attached to the big hearted, simple
minded fellow. Apart from journalistic
consideration he much preferred to have
his friend alive
When Hodgson came in to say good bye
the noon-t train carrying him to Sleepy
Eye and Annie-Kimball was up to his ears
in some very perplexing copy. While wait
ing for the absorbed editor to find breath
ing spell, Ben took bundle of dispatches
just in from Minnesota. He was always
interested in Minnesota. Annie lived
there
For the next few minutes nothing was
heard but the rapid scratch of Kimball's
pen and Ben's low articulation. Suddenly
from his lips slowly moving as he read, is
sued wild cry. Kim ball started abruptly
to his feet. Before him stood Hodgson, his
face bloodless, his eyes staring. Around him
IN every direction were scattered the dis
patches. Only one he held crushed in his
hand
'Read that!'' he shrieked "Annie, my
Annie! 1t has killed her, killed her, killed
herr'
Kimball snatched the paper from his
hand; but the truth had already flashed
upon him His own dispatch, announcing
Ben's death in the blizzard, had been read
by Annie. She was not strong enough to
bear it. The shock had killed her
"Who did ita' cried Hodgson, his whole
being transformed by his agony. 'sWho
told this cursed lie. Let me find him-An-
MES murdered. I'll shoot him dead. I'll
tear his heart" and he started for the
door.
Kimball had stood rooted to the spot,
paralyzed by horror. But at these words
he rushed forward, urged by an unconquer-
able impulse. He seized Hodgson by the
arm and dragged him back into the room.
"Ben," he said, ''stav herei 1t was
who did it. Here, kill me- I'm not fit to
live. Yes, 1 traded with your life. l killed
your happiness. It's only right that l
should die. Aim straightr'
He pulled forth his pistol and forced it
into Hodgson's hand. Ben's arm fell
nerveless by his SIDE. His trimming eyes
were fastened on his friends.
"Youl My best friendl
Oh, Godr'
The next instant a shot went singing
through the air. But Kimball stood un-
harmed. Poor Ben had killed himself
Helen BGrttett, in Boston Globe