Hopkinsville Kentuckian. [volume] (Hopkinsville, Ky.) 1889-1918, 1892-11-08

the minister Rube brought He thinks
I am going 10 die, and l guess am.
Did / say anything In my sleepp
often do--bad dreams, you seew
"You spoke of taking something"
replied, firmly.
Ills thin, white face flushed painful
ly. "Ahl yesi" he faltered, ~ must
have meant my medlcinei It's time 70
take II, now feel sometimes that It's
bound to build me up yeti When the
cooler weather comes I'll get more rest,
aud then"
'And then2" repeated, as the poor
boy hesitated.
"ohl I'll get better theni" he added,
hopefully. "But you don't believe
that, know. Yet RUDE can tell you
I've been far worse than you sec me
now"
took his hot fingers into my own.
Barton Jerome, have you a mother2"
"Yes," his answer but whisper.
"And you loved her once?"
Don't say thatl love her stillr' he
cried, passionately. But I've got to
! die without her--without heri o Godi
It is bardl''
"why within. her?" persisted
because she does not know my
Observation-Disclosures dare not let
her know And she could not come to
me, II did. 1t is too latei too later
His white face was buried deep In
the rough pillow.
Suppose we write TO her." ! sug-
| gested. "a true mother can forgive
and forget any and everything"
mo, mol" he gasped. you must not
| writel Rube does not know, no one
knows It here, butt am a fugitive
from justice"
did not say thought as much; that
would have been positive crueltyl But
/ drew poor Barton Jerome's wasted
face TO my breast and pillowed 1t
there.
"You are good man, or you wouldn't
do that" he faltered at last. Mother
used to hold me in her arms Just so
when / was a little fellow. But father
was always cold and sternl l couldn't
have done what did IL he had been
different IL want TO tell you about
| II before ] go. You can write to
mother when all is over-but not now,
not now. might get well, and IL
| would not do"
lie had another at Of coughing then,
and laid him back on the cot, white
and exhausted.
at won't be long nowf' sighed Rube
Sawyer, stealing in on tiptoe. San
wouldn't it nigh about kill his mother
70 see him lynn sol After all, it's Just
as well she doesn't know. I'll watch
him tonight as careful as she would
herself. You can sleep there In the
other bunk. II need you I'll call"
So I retired from Barton Jerome's
cotside. IT proved long, long night,
for could not sleep. And neither did
our patient He moaned and tossed
about, and once he again spoke aloud.
Rube and both caught the words.
| They were: Mother father--forgive.
81 reckon they would" the miner
whispered "Wish they could see him
now. What's the boy done, anyhow"
"He will tell me yet" l answered,
III he lives long enough"
And the next day, Barton jerome
rallied. He was even strong enough 10
sit up for an hour, by the open door. 1t
was then he told Rube and me the
whole story Of his blasted life. He
kept nothing back, and he did not try
| TO excuse himself in the least. II was
briefly this. He was an only son, and
he had been carefully brought up and
educated. But soon after leaving col
| lege, he had learned 10 gamble. Then
he lost heavily, and to cancel the bad
debts incurred he deliberately opened
his fathers safe, and took therefrom
thousand dollars. After confessing all
to his still loving mother, he fed from
home, and did not stop until he reached
the Pacific coast. There he drifted
from bad 10 worse, until he finally
brought up-at the little mining camp,
out in the Mubas foothills where /
had found him the day before
When he finished his not uncommon
story, / made no comments. They
were not necessary. He was young.
and erring, and he wa. $50 dying.
81 want to make restitution" he said
at last. II can do II now, thanks 10
Rubel He made some investments for
us both that have turned out well, and
can pay father back, ten-fold You
must send 1t at once. will make out a
check for all have. My bank book Is
In that coat behind the door. Sorry ]
put off writing so longl TN not equal
10 r letter now But You can saw all I
wish him 10 know. Don't mention nv
being SO M II would only worry
mother"
"You must write TO them YOURSELF" I
said, decidedly, "if IL is only the one
word forgiye-here are pen and paper,"
"You think that would do, sir9"
"Most assuredly."
He took the pen then, and traced the
beautiful word In a scrawl. He tried
10 sign his name, but could not His
sudden strength deserted him, and he
fell back In faint Rubs and wero
a long time In restoring him to con-
i