Indian chieftain. [volume] (Vinita, Indian Territory [Okla.]) 1882-1902, 1892-12-29

and finding us on a strange road, and
so far as we knew, twenty miles frou
anywhere, did not tend to enliven oul
spirits.
Mile after mile we urged the tireS
horses along, until it seemed as il they
must drop from fatigue; colder an,
more tiereely blew the wind down the
narrow, high-walled canyon, until
became so chilled that Mr.. Brown haC
to take the reins.
Soon dusk began TO gather. BY this
time found l ! ad frosted my face and
hands severely, and was becoming
numb all over. 1t required much urg.
ing from my companion to keep me
from falling into that sleep which in
tense cold superinduces. and which is
nearly always fatal. Finally Mr..
Brown drew rein.
These horses can't go another mile.
We shall have 10 do something" he
said. I'VE cannot keep on going"
He had hardly spoken when he
added: ''Ohl thank Godl there's q
light"
must have been pretty badly
frozen, for though Mr.. Brown said aft
erwards he talked to me as we passed
on to the house where he saw the
hours later found myself on bunk
in rude, onc-room cabin, with Mr..
Brown and another man. apparently
the cabins owner, standing over me.
"Goodl" said the stranger. Il
thought he wasn't too far gone to pull
through all right" For which ! was
duly thankful, and so expressed my
self,
Later in the evening", as Mr.. Brown
and our host sat by tine fire. smoking
silently, lay idly watching them. and
was suddenly struck with certain
similarity in their appearance. They
were about the same size and build.
had the same color of hair and eyes,
and, though our host wore n thick
beard, which Mr.. Brown did not. fan
cied detected certain fscial resem-
blance. Both men, too, had a decided,
positive way of speaking, and wasted
no words.
Suddenly Mr.. Brown drew out his
watch and looked at it. "A quarter Of
twelve" he remarked, gipvely--almost
sadly, thought. | noticed our host
cast a quick, keen glance at the others
face. Then Mr. Brown continued
looking dreamily into the roaring
flames in the big open fireplace: Il
don't know why should become con-
fdential or communicative: II is not
my way. But tonight, tho eve Of the
New Year, is the saddest night of the
year, for me: and there has never an
old year died, in the last eleven, that
has not found me longing for human
and sympathy. II I
had neither ] should go mad, think .
lie paused for few moments and
seemed lost in painful thought. Then
he continued:
Twelve years ago tonight, / be-
came n criminal and an undeclared
perjurer. No, you need not look in
it IS true. shall go on?e
"1es,r said the other man, and
thought he seemed oddly eager for the
rest OF the story. and deeply interested
10 It.
Twelve years ago, there was. in a 4
certain city in Ohio, one of the happi-
st families that ever lived To-day /
hey are scattered far and near, and 1 /
m the cause Of H.
My father and mother were both /
living then. and on Christmas and New
Years there was always a merry gath
ring Of children and grandchildren at
he old home. There were Eve chill
lren Of us--threc girls. all married. nv
-ouHger brother, Sidney. and myself.
That year we were all gathered as
Usual under the home roof for the last
ime, as it happened.
u ucel uot mske 3 long siors of it
)n New lras'- egc Sc was discovered
bat q certain sam o. money that had