Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1892-02-21
JOHN BRENT
By THEODORE WINTHROP.
COPYRIGHTED. 1884,
CONTINUED.

CONTINUED.
"Pretty well plowed up, that arm Of
his'n," said he,
81 have sene amputation performed
for less"
''Then I'm dun glad there's no saw
bones about. / don't believe mater
means a mans leg or arm TO 90 until
she breaks the solid bone, so that IL
amt to be Sot nOhow. But what do you
allow 70 do? Lamm ahead or squat
here?"
"You are the oldest; you have most
experience; l will take your advice
October Is sweet as the smile OF
gal when she hears that her man has
made fifteen hundred dollars of the pur-
ceeds Of half acre Of onions, % thS
mines; but these yer fall storms is reg
lar injunS; they light down 'thout send
Ing on hand bills. We ought 70 be
printing for home n We can"
"But Brent'S wound! Can he travel?"
''Now, about that wound, there's two
ways Of looking az IL. We ken stop
here, or we ken pOOt for Laramie. /
allow that IL oughter take that arm Of
ais'n a month 20 make itself right. Now
N q month there'll be p'r'aps three feet
Of snow whar we stand. >"
1--WE must go on"
''Besides, lookerherel Accordin' to
me the feelius mean suthin, when
mans got any. He'll be all the time
xorryin about the gal till he gets her TO
aer father. It's my Judgment she'd
better never see the old man agin, but
wouldn't want my Ellen to quit me,
IF l was an unhealthy gOnoDh like him.
Daughters ought 20 stick clOser'n twitch
grass TO their fathers, and sons 70 their
mothers, and she amt one 70 knock of
lovin anybody she's guy herself 70 love.
No, she's one Of those Stiddy kind
stiddy as the stars. He knows that,
that there pardener Of youru knows
10, and his feelinS won't give his arm
no rest until she's got the old man
10 take care of and follow Oft on his
next streak. So we must UOOt for Lara
ME, live or die. Thar'll be a doctor
there. FL we ken find the way IL
shouldn't take us mOre'n ten days. I'll
poot him on BITS sorrel, jest as gentle
horse as Bill was that rode him, and
veil see ef we hain't worked out the
Dad luck out Of all Of US for one while
Armstrong; opinion was only my own,
expressed OregOnly.
THAT there A. q A. mule" says
Armstrong, was RIPS aud mine, and
his stuff 10 the packs was ours. don't
know what the fellows did with the two
mean mustangs they were ridin when
hey found US fuSt on Bear river
lsed 'em up, reckon
Here Brent hailed Us Cheerily.
Look alive there. We idlerS here
want 20 be travelling
~ told you so, said Armstrong. "He
understands this business just as well
Is we do. He'll go till he drapS. Thsr's
yrit into him, eff l know grit
Yes: but when / saw him sit still with
ais back against the spruce tree, and re-
uem bered his exuberant life Of other
LAYS responded. He soon took occa-
ion 10 speak to me apart.
"Dick," said he, You see how 10 Is.
am not good for much. If we were
Ilone you and might settle here for
month or so, and write Bubbles from
ne Brurnen. But there is lady In
he case. IL is plain where she belongs.
know every inch Of the way TO Lara
ME. | can take you through in a
veek''-he paused and quayered little
IS he continued-'if live. But don't
OOk so anxious. / shall.
at would be stupid for you TO die
aow, John Brent the Lover, with the
obstacles cut away and an heroic basis
81 operations
"A wounded nan, perhaps a dying
nan, has no business with love. will
never present her my services and ask
pay. But, Dick, IL l should wear out
you will know what TO say TO her for
me-"
We grouped to depart.
81 shall remember all this for scores
Of sketches" said Miss Citheroe.
And indeed there was material. The
rocks behind threading away and mar
rowing into the dim gorge Of the alley;
the rushing fountains, one with its
cloud OF steam; the two great SpruceS;
the greenSward; the thickets, and above
them a PARKWAY glimpse Of world, all
run 70 a top and tlinging itself up into
heaven, a tumult OF crag and pinnacle.
So much for the scenery. And for per
sonages, there was Armstrong, with his
head turbaned, Saddling the white ma
chine; the two mules, packed and tax
ing their last nibbles Of verdure; Miss
Clitheroe, in her round hat aud with a
green blanket rugged as riding skirt,
mounted upon the sturdy roam; Brent
resting on my shoulder and stepping on
NV knee as he climbed painfully to his
seat on the tall sOrrel; Don Fulano wait
ing. proud and eager. And just as we
were starting a stone fell from over
head into the water; and looking up we
saw a big horn studying Us from the
crags, wishing, no doubt, that his mon
ster horns were ears to comprehend our
dialect.
Goodby to the Luggernel springs and
Luggernel alley. 20 that scene OF TRACE
dy and tragedy escaped!
CHAPTER NVIIT.
FORT LARAMIE