The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1892-03-23


the hill, and was not wholly dark. At
some distance in, impossible to calculate,
there a light-not daylight-but the red
light OF fire.
"By ginger" said Stubby. and the two
boys looked in each others faces for
minute.
Lets listen," said Arthur, and they
put their ears up to the hole. There was
only low, whirrinR sound.
THAT fires what we smell up on top"
said Arthur.
"How d. you find it?' asked Stubby.
why. n little dead stump grew right
over il, and it broke with me-thats why
fell"
LES roll away the rock"
This they did with some difficulty. and
it exposed a tunnel-like opening, nearly
round and fully three feet in diameter.
Dare you go in, Stubby?"
Course, 4 you DO"
We'll, take your knife between your
teeth"
what fur2"
ooh, SOS to BIO ready if anything hap
pens-that's the way they always do in
books-and follow me-"
10, draw cuts 10 see who goes ahead"
We'll, that is more regular"
They drew cuts, and Arthur got down
on his hands and knees and went in first,
with Stubby close to his heels.
As they crawled cautiously along, the
hight grew brighter, and after going not
over twenty feet, the tunnel turned 10 one
side aud in q moment they were in a
large, well-lighted room q chamber per-
hnps twenty feet square, with walls and
ceiling OF black limestone. In one corner
was jet OF natural gas that burned
brightly and steadily. Water trickled
down from the wall on one side and dis.
appeared in creyice; but there was abso-
lutely nothing TO indicate that the room
had ever been entered by man or beast
before.
'Pshaw - said Arthur, why amt there
a heap of straw with II skeleton on it, or n
chain drove into the wall with a staple
and ring on the other end with some
bones? Why, there amt even an old gun
or rusty knife or broken table in here
Its only common, everyday kind OF a
cave after all, and believe we are the
first ones who were ever in it,
who liz that" asked Stubby pointing
to the flaming gas.
That's So Who did light that?"
They walked about for some time look
ing for traces left by former occupants,
but found nothing, and then they took a
great oath which Arthur had read in
book and which was proper Tor the occa-
sion, that as long as grass grew, water
iroze or fire burned, neither. without the
consent OF the other, should reveal to
anyone the whereabouts of the cave or
even speak OF its existence
In due time, Aunty had received a letter
from Chicago. 1t was rather brief. II
.afro I
TO work during the GUNNER months in the
mining towns West. and among the
mountains. | really don't see how / can
return last before fall. She incIosed $50
and wanted Dear Mother Davies" TO buy
what clothes the babe needed
She wrote again from Cheyenne that
she certainly could not return East until
autumn, and again she enclosed money.
| Then there was long silence followed by
another letter, this time from san Fran
cisco and dated the 10Th of October. 1t
was the longest letter she had written.
She had received such splendid oder to
Join thcater there that she had engaged
for the winter, and had definitely arranged
to come East in ;he spring She enclosed
her picture and requested that one OF the
babe be taken and sent her. Charles
Burton and bis wife, her dearest friend,
Maria, had sailed for Australia, and she
was lonely and thought of her babe con-
stantly. She wrote:
1T Ia an awful way, TO live so separated
but II is the penalty we have to pay our
profession, and it is better for the babe IN
every way. / am working and studying
bard to win a reputation. feel myself
improving, and-who knows?-I may
reach the top yet, and then, says I, won't
| BGDy and / enlOV OuraelVes
Mrs. Davies laid the letter down and
felt much more kindly toward Dora
than she ever had before. She
had led regular, matter-of-fect,
simple life herself, but she vaguely real
lied that out in the great world-the
world she knew so little about-there were
battles being fought that she did not com
prehend. Who am |, thought she, ''to
ito Judge this little woman who seems to
| be fighting so earnestly to win fame and
position? She didn't do right to leave heI
child in the way she did, and / can't
understand how mother could do SO
and yet, by and by, this mother will come
back and take away the little babe" and a
bitter pang smote the old lady's heart, and
she realized how dear the little thing hac
| become to her.
Two weeks later another letter came
| AuAll Jan AoAitlbCOs huhhN ACuNA It. liz
saw her press her hands to her heart fol
al instant and then bend over and take NJ
the babe, whom she clasped even more
tightly, and sobbed over more brokenly
than che did in the gray of that April
morning when she found the charge tha
| God had given her. Ira picked up the
| fallen letter and read:
ST. LUKE's HOSPITAL,
| SAN FRANCISCO, October Both.
| MRS. ALTHEEA DAVIES: -HddGm:-I write
you at the request OF Dora Fielding, actress
VINO died Mt this hospital the day before yester
day. Oct. rs, at IL q. M, from injuries received
| by the fall OF a scGfold on the stage of the Sau
| Francisco theatre the night OF Oct. q.
Deceased was received here in an uncon
| scious condition, and remained until n few
moments before death. Sh0 then recovered
only sufficiently TO say that her babe was il
your care. 10 speak uuintelligibiy of paper
stored in New York City, aud request me to
write to you. This she die with great effort o
speech. The people of her profession here
| know little nothing about her. Her manage
advises. If you desire further information, tina
| you communicate with Mrs. Charles Burton
Miller theater company. Melbourne. Australia
] send you by express today the sum of 500
cash. and ring which deceased drew from he
finger and requested to be sent her child.
There was in her possession:
CaSD SJS
From sale of hei wardrobe aud effects l2S
Due her at theater Is
Purse for benefit of child made up by com
90 D