The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1892-08-13

somewhat dispelled the darkness, Malcolm
found courage to move little. Once out
side the door his feet seemed winged.
What if Bill Sprouse was outside in the
shadow somewhere and had seen him leave
the house and even now was coming after
him with giant strides? He fancied he
heard his footsteps coming nearer, nearer
"Father Father" he cried under his
breath, as he dashed through the low
brush-wood and leaped narrow rayine,
cutting unnoticed his bare feet on the
sharp stones. If his father was only there |
with his strong arm he would be safe. No
man on earth was as strong as his father,
he thought. How he could WELD the large
hammer on the anvil. But the strong arm
was not there and he was afraid TO call lest |
his pursuer should hear ooh, Lord !" he |
cried, ''dont let him cone; don't let him
come till get home
At last, blessed moment the home door
was reached. Painting, trembling, he pull
ed the latch-string and, slamming the door
behind him, looked wildly around for his
father But by the moonlight and the
smouldering fire he could see there was no
one in the room except his little brother
aud sister asleep in their trundle-bed. His
father and Aunt Selany, he remembered,
had gone to the corn shucking. So he
jumped into bed between the children aud
covered up his head, and overcome with
all he had undergone, he fell asleep. He
was not aroused by the return of his father
and aunt, nor by the coming later on of
Bill Sprouse, from whom he had fed so
wildly. He slept soundly till Selany, lean
ing over him in the morning light, shook
him, and speaking from the depths of her
black sun-bonnet, to which she was ''de-
votedly attached, and from which she was
rarely parted, bade him go and get the
COWS. She was a stern woman of few
words, and not much loved by the children
left in her care since their mothers death.
She told Malcolm nothing of the murder,
but silently and grimly sifted the corn-meal
for the breakfast bread.
"Where's father asked Malcolm, as he
pulled an old toboggan cap over his un-
combed hair.
CAT Mrs. Sprouse's, answered Selauy,
and added as he fingered, "Ps waitin' for
the cows; go long"
In the few minutes since Malcolm awoke
he had had no remembrance Of the events
of the night previous. There had been
nothing to recall them. Everything was
as usual, apparently, but the mention of
Mrs. Sprouse was e, etrical. He recol-
lected everything in moment. There is
something in the morning air and sunlight,
however, which dispels the fears of the
night, All things seem made anew and
the hope and courage we have lost in the
darkness return with the light. After his
refreshing sleep and with his perfect health
the remembrance of the past night was
more like a dread dream than a terrible
reality to Malcolm. He penned up the
cows quickly and before he had had time
to dwell much upon his fear Of the night
he was running along the mountain side
toward Mrs. Sprouse's to find his father.
He joined the little crowd around the
door on the southern side of the house
and stood close beside his father He
could not see into the room, for there were
many men and women in front of him.
But he could hear Mr.. Scruggs speaking
within
"Hit's turrible thing" he was saying;
''turrible Use lived in this here county,
man and boy, ffty-fve years, and 1 amt
nuvver heerd the like"
81 kin see, said George Flint, chow
the old woman might ha' got kilt, but
huccum such good-sized man as Jack
didn't 'fend hisself? 1t pear like thar
amt been no scuffiin' by the looks of the
fo' and the way he's layin'.
''Fend hisself ?" said Tom Tinker, the
blacksmith, elbowing his way into the
room and stopping beside the bodies,
closely followed by little Malcolm. "How's
a man goin' to 'fend hisself when he's hit
from benin? You can see by the wownd
as whomsoever hit Jack come up behind
him. But who could ha' done it? Who
in the wurl p
There was moments pause and then
Bill Sprouse, sitting in the next room on
the step of the door facing the north, where
he had gone to escape curious eyes and the
sight of his brutal work, heard a child's
piping voice in answer
81 knows, l seen him; he was right thar
benin the do, pointing to the southern
door, 'sand she was a comm in with chips
in her apron, and he knocked her in the
head with the axe; seen him do it.
During the excitement produced by
Malcolm's revelation, and while he was be-
ing piled with questions as to who had
done the deed and how he had CHANGED to
see it, Bill Sprouse had made good his
escape for the present at least, and, helped
by the foliage, which was still thick, was
out of sight long before the men had col
lected themselves sufficiently to think of
his whereabouts.
Malcomb's story seemed an impossible
one, since there appeared to be no motive
for such fendish act; for while granted
surly Bill Sprouse was not passionate
man they all agreed. But when Malcolm