Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1891-07-17
STAUNTON, VIRGINIA, JULY II, 1891.

man leading another animal. and Miss
Betsy came down to the stile to be in readi-
ness, as it was already so late. To her sur
prise the rider proved to be Steve IroWef
instead of Grove Hacket.
"Hellol hain't We gone yit?" he ex-
claimed. II flowed yer'd be off fore day. =
"How's G. body ter go 'thout company el
wings nuther?" asked Miss Betsy with
evident irritation. "Hev yer seen anything
o. Grove Hacket this mawnin'?"
/ ''Why, hewitt he turned up ylt?" ques
toned Steve in well feigned surprise.
mot ez anybody knows" cried Miss Bet
sy petulantly.
EFF that's ther case, hits likely yel
won't set eyes ON i'm terday. I'm jest
minded" continued Steve, as with sudden
thought, 81 seed Bill Warner las night
an he tole me Hacket war on powerful
spree agin."
'Well good mercy now amt that beau
Siful?' cried Miss Betsy Indignantly.
'Jes' lissen ter me-" said Steve per
suasively, after a moments reflection
'yere's mare already saddled an bridled
! an she's a good 'un too. Now watts thel
use ter stay at home when yer kin jump
right on her an go straight ter ther show,
which hits pity ter miss fer fellow wat
likes Ticker better'n PROMISE"
Miss Betsy looked anxiously up the road,
then wistfully down it.
''Hit must be Ticker Waits keepin' i'm
elsen he'd ha' been yere fore this" she
said in hesitation.
f'Ef folks is -goin' they'd oughter be on
ther way thar" said "Pap" Scruggs be
H. L.
lngly addressing his remarks to space.
''They say ez hits a powerful big show
added Steve with alluring impressiveness.
"Thar's ever single varmint on thar whole
face O. ther yearth yer kin see, an ridin' an
tumblin' an dedicated dogs, till yerd die
a-laffin' at zen cuttin up Their Shines"
The picture was a most alluring one.
"Pap, Pm a-goin' weth Mr. Trower,
that's jes' wat I am" said Betsy, gather
ing up her riding skirt.
Fully an hour later Grove Hacket rode
up to the Scruggs homestead. He was
still under the influence of liquor, and
showed unmistakable evidences of a nights
debauch.
When he learned that Miss Betsy had
gone away some time before in the com
pany of Steve Trower, he turned about
without a word, and giving his horse saw
age cut with a switch, galloped back in the
direction of his home.
'Thar's goin' to be trouble yit 'twix
Steve an Grove jes' bout this very thing
muttered "Pap" Scruggs as he slowly re-
traced his steps to the house, obviously
shaking his head as he went.
Some two weeks after this incident
Hacket was out one day with his rifle for
the purpose of bagging some game, and
also to freshen up a bit after his long
spree. He had learned from Bill Warner,
in moment of maudlin confidence, of the
part his rival had played in the matter of
his recent spree, and desire for revenge
burned fierce within him. He had also
possessed himself of the idea that Miss
Betsy Scruggs was willing abettor in the
shabby trick that had been played him,
and his feelings were undergoing that
| strange process by which hatred can be
| finally evolved from love.
He had seen neither of the parties since,
and it was with surprise that he came sud-
denly upon Steve Trower taking bath in
one of the shady pools of creek whose
source was in the higher hills beyond.
Groves presence was no less unexpected
to the bather. They looked at each other
in silence for a moment, Steve standing in
water up to his waist and Grove on the
bank above him.
| The bank was little overhanging at
this point, and Steve, with apparent indif-
ference, moved slowly toward it, each step
bringing the water farther up on his body
and placing him more in the shelter of the
bank.
Grove was not Obvious to this, and
slowly raising his rifle to his shoulder said:
stStop right tharl"
While the words were ominous, the action
was more SO, and Steve's head involunta-
rily disappeared under the water like
loon which had espied foe.
Presently he came up within little dis
lance of where he had disappeared, while
Grove, with a grotesque leer, deliberately
brought his gun to bear upon him again,
and Steve as promptly ducked his head
under the water.
This odd performance was repeated sew
eral times, until Steve began to show I'M
mistakable signs of fatigue, painting and
blowing as he came to the surface.
As yet no word had been spoken.
"Gittin' skeerce O. wind, is YEP" demand
ed Grove with exultant satisfaction. eyer
thievin' skunk, I'm nigh o mind ter make
yer drown yer trifin' carkis, I hey. Dip!"
Steve promptly obeyed.
Again and again Grove compelled him to
go down under the water, each time giving
vent to loud outlaws of delight which
echoed through the valley.
Between these outburstS of merriment
Grove kept up running commentary:
'Lordy! Lordyl this is heap sight fun
nier than Their show, hit air. Hits bettern
them dedicated animiles. Eff yer gifts
little wet 'twon't hurt yer much. PHI git
Bill Warner ter fotch yer down some prime
ole redeye, but don't yer Sit on no spree,
kase yer mout not be able ter keep yer pint
ment with me- Spose yer dip down again
that's hit-only yer mustn't keep yer
noggin under bher water SO long, fer Pm
feared yer health'll be so porely yer can't
go down ter Dry Crick Settlement mex
show day, which would be powerful on
fortunit on Miss Betsy Scruggs, now
wouldn't hit3 Mus yer dip down agin'
Well, don't stay thar long, fer want ter
see yer purity face soon. Here yer come up.
Now s'posen yer try divin' onct more-hit
log. DANCED eff this hain't sight bsttern
any show ever seed. Hal ha! ha! how he
kin dive"
Finally, utterly exhausted and breath
less, Steve caught hold of Che barred roots
of tree projecting out over the water.
"Ef yer air goin' ter shoot, why, shoot"
he cried sullenly. whats ther use o
foolin'?"
''Tain't none," answered Grove laconic-
ally, Though hit do look like a pity ter
Spite nice love match, iken yer an Miss
Betsy hey got up. Pm arter game, how
someyer, an I don't low ter miss none
wat comes in my way. This air q good
time, too, ter settle up some ole scores wat
hey been rppnip' fer long time back"
He slowly lowered his rifle, examined the
lock carefully, then the printing and de-
iberately raised it to his shoulder again.
Ready, is yer, yer pizen headed rat
| tler?" he called out to Steve, who through
all these preliminaries had maintained a
stoical bearing.
"Shoot, yer sneakin' cowardr' the bather
| called out unfinchingly.
| The next instant the sharp report OF a
rife rang out through the silent valley,
awakening the echoes among the hills.
| Grove stood and watched the spot where
Steve once more went down until the cir
cling rings widened and widened and broke
upon the further bank. Then when the
troubled waters grew calm again he slowly
shonldered his rifle and strobe away.-H.
C. Wood in Romance