The Kinsley graphic. [volume] (Kinsley, Kan.) 1890-1940, 1892-12-30

and finding US on a strange road, and,
SO far as we knew, twenty miles from
anywhere, did not tend to enliven our
spirits.
Mile after mile we urged the tired
horses along, until it seemed as if they
more Gcrcely blew the wind down the
narrow, high-wallei canyon, until /
became so chilled that Mr.. Brown hud
to take the reins.
Soon dusk began TO gather. BY this
time I found I ad frosted my face and
hands severely, and was becoming
numb all over. It required much urg-
ing from my companion to keep me
from falling into that sleep which in
tense cold supsrinduces, and which is
nearly always fatal. Finally Mr.
Brown drew rein
These horses can't go another mile.
We shall have to do something" he
said 1--WE cannot keep on going"
He had hardly spoken VIII en- he
added: "Oh! thank God! there's a
light!"
/ must have been pretty badly
frozen, for, though Mr. Brown said aft
srwaUCls he talked to me as we passed
on to the house where he saw the
light, I knew no more until several
hours later / found myself on bunk
in q rude, oue-rOom cabin, with Mr.
Brown and another man, apparently
the cabins owner, standing over me.
''GoOdr' said the stranger. II
thought he wasn't too far gone to pull
/ through all right" For which I was
i duly thankful, and so expressed my
self
Later in the evening, as Mr.. Brown
and our host sat by the fire. smoking
silently, / lay idly watching them, and
was suddenly struck with a certain
similarity IN their appearance. They
were about the same size and build,
had the same color of hair and eyes,
and, though our host wore a thick
beard, which Mr.. Brown did not, I fan
cied detected a certain facial resem-
blancc. Both men, too, had a decided,
positive way of speaking, and wasted
no words.
Suddenly Mr.. Brown drew out his
watch and looked at it. "a quarter of
twelve he. remarked, gravel ely-almost
sadly, I thought / noticed our host
cast a quick, keen glance at the others
face. Then Mr. Brown continued.
looking dreamily into the roaring
flames in the big open fireplace; ~
don't know why / should become con-
hdential or communicative; It is not
my way. But tonight. the eve of the
New Year, is the saddest night of the
year, for rae; and there mas never an
old year died, in the last eleven, that
has not found me longing for human
compauionship and sympathy II /
had neither 1 should go mad. ] think "
He paused for few moments. and
/ seemed lost in painful thought Then
[ he continued;
Twelve years ago tonight, I be
came n criminal and an undeciared
] Periurer. 40, yen need not look In
| creduiousi IL is true. Shall / go OE?'
10y es," said the other man. and ]
! thought he seemed oddly eager for the
rest OF the story, and deeply interested
/ in it.
Twelve years ago, there was, in a
/ certain city In Ohio, one of the happi-
4 est fnmihes that ever lived To-day
/ they are scattered far and near, aud I
( s1n the cause OF it
''Ay father and mother were both
[ living then, and ON Christmas and New
[ Years there was always q merry gath
| ering of ehifdrca and grandchildren ai
/ the old home. There were FIVE chill
/ dren OF Us--three girls, all married, my
/ youFger brother, Sidney, and myself
t'Inat year we were all gathered as
I usual under the home roof for the last
Z time, ms it happened.
81 need r9s ilalsc q long story OF t.
On Neev Sr3r'5 eve IL was discovered
] that a certain saua Of moHey that hud