Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1892-12-03

self, but without turning her eyes or
moving her head.
Ten minutes walk took the man
to the junction of the path and tho
highway He turned to the right,
followed the road about twenty
rods, and then secreted himself in
thicket. The road was little used by
soldiers. Couriers and mail-carriera
who wanted to save distance came that
way, and in the dark ravine at the bush
whacker's back two corpses were now
lying unburied.
"Drat 'eml" growled the man, as
three or four great buzzards came fly
ing so close to him that their wings
brushed the top of the bushes, but
after a moment he knelt down behind
a deceyed log, resting the barrel of his
rifle across it, and gave the buzzards no
further attention. Five, ten, fifteen
minutes passed away. There had been
only three or four of the great birds at
first; their numbers increased until
there seemed to be thirty flying above
him. Not one of them uttered sound
There was ''swishi' of wings al
they circled about the thicket but
never cronk or cry. 1t was a still
hunt The man was waiting for the
living-the buzzards seeking to locate
the dead
Clickety cliclsl Cliclsety click! 1t il
the hoof beats of horse up the road
the sound Of his iron shoes striking
against the stony surface. The buzz
yards lift themselves fifty feet higher
and break their circle, but the man set
ties down and places his cheek against
the rifle. 1t is single horseman riding
at lope. He comes nearer and nearer,
| and the buzzards pause in their flight
to look down on him. OF sudden n
flash of flame, sharp report, cry, and
the horse gallops madly away.
"Got one mo- fur suah!'' mutters the
bushwhacler, as he drops his rifle and
steps out to view the dead man and
drag the body into the cover.
There is rush of feet, fierce yell,
and he is surrounded by twenty soldiers
who cry out for his life. 1t is a detail
who have been searching aud watch
ing, and they have him ut last He has
not word to say-betrays no fear.
They tie his arms behind him and
march him down the road to the path
and up the path to his cabin. The
woman sits there in the same position.
except that her eyes are on the path
and the body of men. She knows what
has happened-what will happen.
"Tom's bin got!" she whispered, but
she does not betray the slightest eS-
citement. She does not even rise to her
feet until the officer i'll command looks
her over and asks:
do you want to see him hung?"
"Reckon not"
"Then go!'
She is bareheaded and barefooted.
She does not enter the cabin, but stcps
into the path, turns to the right and
the men watch her out of sight. There
is no "good-by," no tears, not even a
backward look. She is hardly out OF
sight before the cabin is fired and a
rope is about her husbands neck. He
does not beg for his life; he does not
defy them; he makes no sign. 1t is only
when the men have tailed on to the free
end of the rope to pull him up and he is
asked if he has anything to say that his
lips are parted to utter the brief sen.
tence:
:. Reckon not!'
Dead from straightforward from
a dozen bullets-dead and swinging
like pendulum in the smoke anC
flames of his roof tree, and as the
woman still traversing the path ant
half mile away, heard the volley, sh4
whispered to herself:
Toms buzzard meat nowr'-Chicag,
Times.