Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1889-04-05

"We amt yit, but we cal'late on dom it
fore mornin', and that's the party come up
to give you bid to. Thought ye'd feel
sighted if none O. you got pull at the rope
that'n swing the chap that killed jedi
whittier man n Jed never drawed the breath
O. ifen
Eyer right thar" said 81 Sharpe, heartily;
rope when you git the Teller that shot Jed to
the other end of it. Who is he, anyhow?"
Don't know. They don't none O. the boys
know, an he won't tell whar he come from
nor who he is; but we all know whar he's
goin' to, an that mighty burned quick, too.
He is a youngish sort Of a chap, not more'n
3d. with three fingers off'n one hand an a
scar over his left eye. We reckon his names
Hobbs--Henry Hobbs-anyhow he's got a
ring on with that name on it, an that's the
name on some letters we TUX from i'm, an
also on big old fashioned silver watch he's
got. How many of you goin' down to the
hangin' with me2 It'll come off at midnight"
Nearly every man in the cabin rose to his
feet, and while all were pulling on hats and
coats the door of old Mrs Dill's room sud-
denly opened and Mrs. Dill herself. CHASTITY
and trembling, with her thin gray hair fall
ing to her bony shoulders, walked swiftly
with her back to it, her bleared eyes dim
with tears and her shriveled lips trembling
''Boys," she said, in her shrill, cracked
voice, I'VE amt goin' down to Camp Fair
view to hang that felier-I tell We, ye ANTI!
Ye shan't!" She drew an old pistol from
beneath her apron as she spoke and held it
aloft with trembling bony arm and
wrinkled fingers 'Tll shoot the first Teller
that tries to go out this door. I'll do it,
Pip Her head dropped suddenly to her
breast, her arm fell to her side and the pistol
to the floor. She put both of her bony hands
to her face and sobbed aloud. With her
head still bent low, she said:
''Boys, lookee here. Some of you hev
knowed me fer twenty year, an ye knowed
my man that's dead an gone. There's men
in this cabin that I've fed an keered for
when they was homeless an sick. In all the
twenty-nine year that old Mis- Dill has lived
in the mountings the latch string O. her cabins
hung out free to all. Nobody WANT ever
turned away, as some of ye mighty well
know. I've gin favors wherever I could,
an amt never asked none back. I've had
my trials an tribbylations-God knows
have!-an' the wust of m all has come to-
night; fer, boys, that man yer goin' out ter
hang is-is-my boy-the only baby ever
had, an it's ten long year sence seen himl
sDill WANT my fust husband. His name
was Hobbs an the boy was named after i'm
Henry Hobbs. Some O. you may mind O.
seeing i'm fifteen and twenty year ago at our
cabin down in Cinnamon Gulch-a purity,
black eyed, curly headed boy. He got that
scar down in that gulch, an them three
fingers came off in a bear trap Dill had set
and the boy fell into it, He allus was a wen
turesome boy an never stopped at nothin'
Some of ye mind the big excitement they was
down in Cinnamon Gulch fifteen year ago,
when they was saloon under ev'ry tree an
they WANT no such thing as law an order.
1t want to be wondered at that a-many a
boy went astray then, an my Henry was
among 'em. He hadn't never had chance
to DO different. He didn't know how decent
folks lived, an I-I-wan't fit to learn him,
Ne1ooS iAlioN INV AliJ oS11 LIZ tOO1A W
gamblin an to drink, with plenty to coax
the boy on, an when the excitement died
away he ran off an amt ever herd of i'm
but once sence; an he's the man they want
ye to go an help hang. Ye won't do it, boys,
will ye?'
Her voice had changed to one of earnest
entreaty and her old apron was held to her
streaming eyes.
."Boys," she added, couldn't ye git 'em to
give the boy another chance? Tell 'em he's my
boy. Bring i'm here to me an let me go away
with i'm. Can't ye, boys? Can't ye do it for
the sake of old times? Go an bring my boy
to me. Hang me if you must have life for
the one my boy took. I won't say word
ag'in' that; only let me see my boy first"
Every man in the cabin filed silently out of
the room and disappeared in the darkness,
going hurriedly down the trail. It was al
most daybreak when they came back, silent
and stern, a white faced, slender, trembling
man with them, his arms still bound and the
fear and horror of death still in his face.
Old Mrs. Dill met them at the door, They
led her son to her little room and left her.
alone with him.
eyed better be ready to start by day
light, was all 81 Sharpe said as he closed the
door Of the little room and went back to the
fireplace where the other men sat looking
silently at the glowing Goals.
The next day had hardly dawned when the
gray haired old woman and the tall, hand
some young man came from the little room
and with brief good-by to the men Of Camp
Paradise, went slowly down the trail to meet
the outgoing stage.
They'll be all right" said 81 Sharpe. 'But
there amt another person on Gods earth
they'd give that chap up to but old Mis- Dill,
an I've an idee he'll hang yit some day spite
of her,"
But there lives today in one Of the coast
towns of the Pacific in California man Of
wealth and influence, good citizen and an
honored man, who has but lately buried his
mother, white haired old lady, to whom he
was said to be the most dutiful5and affection
ate of sons. On the plain white stone at her
grave is the NAME Margaret Dill REX In
New York Mercury.