The Kootenai herald. [volume] (Kootenai, Idaho) 1891-1904, 1892-10-07
THE WIDOWS ESCAPE.

LIE w lDUW y EOCAIE.
Trenton is a little village located in
the mountains of north Georgia, where
the breezes are always fresh and invigor-
ating. The nearest railroad station is
twenty-five miles and the only means of
communication with the outside world
is furnished by the stage line which car
T1es the mails and passengers three times
week to and from the station.
Trenton is like the average country
town. The merchants are not too busy
but what they can sit in front of their
stores and white white pine as they
discuss politics and religion-two sub
jects upon which discussions are never
brought to final close. Another matter
in which Trenton did not differ from
other villages was that everybody was
perfectly familiar with the business of
his neighbor. They knew what went on
the breakfast table next door, and if a
stranger visited the town his business
was known to the entire community
before the setting of the sun.
never knew them to be baffled but
once. When the stage arrived one Friday
evening a middle aged stranger of pre-
possessing appearance alighted and en-
tered the hotel, followed by his baggage.
which consisted of an ordinary travelling
trunk. The only inscription that APP
peared upon the register was j. Doster.
No place of residence to indicate who
Mr.. Doster was or to furnish any clew to
his business.
The next day Mr.. Doster appeared
upon the streets and strolled around for
awhile, after which he visited the Office
of The Trenton Budget, and immediate
ly placed himself upon good terms with
the editor by paying for six months sub
scription. Mr. Doster was polished
gentleman, and it was not long before
he was on quite friendly terms with the
editor Of The Budget. He had decided
preference for the city dailies, and while
the editor was engaged in his labors Mr..
Doster would spend several hours each
day scanning the columns of the New
York and Boston papers.
Every man, woman and child in Tren-
ton inquired of the landlord at the hotel
and of the editor who Mr.. Doster was,
but without gaining any information.
Days passed into weeks and weeks into
months, and still Mr.. Doster fingered.
evidently pleased with his surroundings.
He had become quite favorite with the
hotel proprietor, and was so useful in
fashioning odds and ends in the shape of
bric-a-brac for the hotel that he was no
longer regarded as a boarder, but an
honored guest.
Every afternoon he took long strolls in
the woods, and created some interest
among the good country people, who
wondered why the stranger could find
so much delight in tapping rocks with
the little Ratchet he always carried with
him, or picking up such curious looking
stones that struck his fancy.
At the expiration of year the people
of Trenton knew no more of Mr.. Doster
than they did ON the day of his arrival
in their midst. Some of the more in
quisitive had ventured to ask Mr.. Doster
where he was from, but they met with
no success, as Mr.. Doster made it a point
never to hear a question that related to
his past life. He alluded occasionally to
mining in California and digging oil
wells in Pennsylvania, but further than
this no allrEion to his former life and
habits ever escaped his lips.
The people of Trenton were complete
ly outdone and they looked upon Mr..
Doster with suspicious eyes, nearly all of
them agreeing that any man who was
ashamed to own his native home OF to
acknowledge his business must be bad
man, and they predicted all manner of
evil to befall the mysterious stranger.
About tvO years after Mr.. Doster's ar
rival in Trenton he found, in one of his
evening rambles, traces of gold on the
farm of Mrs. Jernigan, most estimable
widow who lived three miles from the
village.
Doster kept his own counsel, but made