Elmore bulletin. [volume] (Rocky Bar, Idaho) 1889-1906, 1892-11-19

In charge than any other man on s,,eh short
notice kibolc, the guard. will show YOU the line
| Of march"
Then followed directions as TO time. stop.
pages, changes, etc
Wen, the end Of it OF course was that
Monday morning about 1890 found me
turning under the archway OF the silver
flagon, On inquiry | learned that Phil
biake was decidedly better, and hoped TO
De able 10 get down to Barrackville by the
evening express As | smoked the very
excellent cigar offered me by mine host Of
the Silver Flagon was conscious OF a re-
ally pleasurable feeling OF excitement such
as had often told myself should never
feel again.
The yard presented quite a lively scene
passengers of all sorts and conditions hur.
rying into their various coaches, for the
Silver Flagon il n favorite coaching rem
devious The Barrackyille coach-"The
Lightning" by name-was being rapidly
got ready. II was one of Hollands best
make, and the shining dark green panels
and brass mountings were receiving the
last polishing at the hands of the men.
The travellers began to gather. Rugs,
coats and umbrellas were slowed away,
spare traces aud straps. etc, looked to.
Then the horses are led out-as likely look.
ing team as any man could wish to drive.
Take your places, ladies and gentle
men, pleaser' shouted the guard In stem
torian tones.
threw away the end of my cigar, but
toned my gloves, rammed my hat firmly
on, said word to the head hostler as to
the biting Of the leaders, glanced com
prehensively over the quartet, then gath
cred up the reins and swung myself on to
the box.
The guard performed fine fantasia on
the horn.
Give 'em their heads, William. Let
'em got" and with fine dash and clatter
we were Off; up Waterloo place, Regent
street, by Regents park. and so out to the
country beyond.
Until then had given no attention to
the lady who occupied the box seat.
could see that she was dressed very neatly
and quietly; no feathers or flowers or rib.
bons to blow about and appear dishevelled
and untidy. From the top of her jaunty
little hat to her well fitting brown leather
gloves all looked thoroughly fit and work.
manlike
imagined she must be well-to-do, for a
very neat Victoria had brought her to the
Silver Flagon, her maid had an inside seat
and heard the man servant say he would
he down In Barrackville in time to meet
the coach on its arrival there. Since the
day Lena Veneker threw me over | had
quite eschewed ladies' society, and | felt
glad enough that my horses gave me quite
as much as knew to hold them. Their
exuberance of spirits, the outcome of the
Sunday rest, was delightful when one had
got them properly together, and felt that
II we were horsed for the country stages in
the same style should not regret having
taken up the role OF stage coachman. be-
gan To form plans for partnership with
Phil Blake and extending our operations
further alield when my heart seemed TO
stand still, for voice whose well remem.
bered tones ! could have sworn to any.
where said:
II am so glad, coachman. we have such
lovely day for our drive.
II was "a simple sentence enough, but
the blood rushed up to my head, and
don't know what ! should have done il
my attention had not been diverted by
the near leader shying violently at a gypsy
van by the roadside. necessitating some
slight punishment. What in the world
should doi for of all embarrassing po-
sitions-- Here was | for the next few
hours bound to sit beside the woman had
once hoped TO. marry. aud who WAS the
wife OF the man by whom was ruined
could not sit speechless for six hours: |
Must say something occasionally. Evident.
ly she did not recognize me, rs how, indeed,
should she after yearly ten years interval
and AS we hal come together under such
different circumstancest Growing more
accustomed To the position, when next she
spoke was so far master of the situation
that began TO take an interest in talking
to her, aud | noticed with pleasure how
little changed she was
For the last stage my friends the new
chestnuts were put on as leaders. Our
route now lay close past dear old St Run
wald's, and sadness that could not shake
of made me silent and indisposed for talk.
ing. What memories did the sight of the
well remembered scenes recall! There was
the exact spot under the scared elm where
| took my first fence on my little hog
named pony, and there WAS the bend In the |
avenue where last saw my dear old uncle
as he waved his hand TO me In |
farewell wonder whether the man who |
owns it now has made the old rose garden |
give place to more modern stylee / won.
der
But here am recalled to what Is going |
on around me by the conversation of some |
young fellows who have the seats behind /
me.
Jolly old place, ST. Runwald's. Who
owns it nowi Dye know"
Not quite sure. Used TO belong to old |
Sir Peter Lauriston, and he left II TO his
nephew, young fool In the Black dra-
goons, who went the pace and lost every
thing at cards. y
Il remember" said another; ''the affair
made rather a noise. did il notf for the
winner took not his house and lands. but
also succeeded TO the affections of his In.
tended wife"
A roar Of laughter followed these words
dared not glance at the figure beside me.
but heard an intense whisper of "0h! IL IA
not true, 1t is not truel,'
Who was the lucky mansn asked the
FIRST speaker.
'Sir Baxhy Bracewell,n said the elder
speaker; "hut he paid the debt of nature a
couple or three years ago. 1t was said that
young Lanriston's losses would not have
been so heavy IL Bracewell had played
more on the square
The shuddering sigh from my neighbor
was more than could stand
III beg your pardon. gentlemen | said,
turning round. Il happen 10 know all the
circumstances Of the case you are discuss
my. Young Iauriston was an utterly con-
,eited, vain young fool. who pitted himself
against a man of twice his science. hard
headrdness and brains lie continued play.
ing, notwithstanding the advice Of those
who knew, and the end was obvious There
was no sharp practice in the matter; and,
moreover. de mortuis nil. :
As ! turned from speaking To them en-
such u look OF gratitude and