The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1893-08-25

Christian name then-faced them
steadily, though she had called me tc
her, and asked what they wanted
"Why, .nothin' in special, miss, y
stammered Dawlish, lifting his ragged
straw hat with swell-mob politeness
and leer which made me tingle to
kick him; "on'y, is the old boss al
home? II mean your pa, MISS" he
translated.
"No," she replied, holding her head
high, to show she was not frightened
but 1, being close to her, could hear he1
heart thudding like a hammer, whilst
the blood famed to her brows under
the foul gaze rowing over her. why
do you asls?"
''Just this, mum. Will you be SO
good as tell him that me and my pals
off to Hulton's ranch for short SPELL
and if he'd like to tramp over-why
tits mighty 'andsome part O. the
country, and he'd be welcome, that's
ALL
"You must be in hurry to co.
l said, putting IN my oar, "if you're
trudging twenty mile for'pleasure such
night as this"
ooh! we didn't know as gou wos in
charge here" with q british laugh
"but the walk is our lookout; the lady
can deliver civil message, l hope"
81 will give it," interposed Miss
Helen, ''as soon as my father comes in. y
Much obleeged, miss; then theer's
nothin' more to add; so we'll toddle.
Good night, MISS" and he fourished
his hat again.
She shut the door upon them, draw
ing stout bar across it. ''Are those
the men he works with?" she cried,
finging up her hands-'Heayen help
ns"
l tried to turn the subject. stirring
the fire into blaze, and pretending to
do lot of things, for didn't care to
leave her. Twas my belief the two
blaclsguards were still hanging about.
As for their invitation to ''the squire, -
It was but lie invented on the mo-
ment.
was casting round for another job,
when she stayed me by asking if l
would go to meet her father.
But YOU
"Nay; | do not mind. The little
house is secure. Why" with wistful
smile, 81 am always alone from day
break until dark"
| knew it was the fact; so, bidding
her open to none until she heard me or
''the squire" whistle, l started on my
errand.
Not very far had to go, for met
him in that same little ravine of which
his daughter had dreamed; it skirted
the pine wood. His pick was over his
shoulder, his right hand in his pocket
feeling the nuggets, perhaps, He was
singing a song in some foreign lingo,
Italian OR Spanish. He looked more
content than had seen him-more at
rest, nodding to me in his patronizing
fashion. After few stray words, l re-
lated what had happened, advising him
to be on his guard.
Thanks, WILL" he replied, haughti-
ly amused at the scamps asking him to
pay visit in their company. HBut
I've a secret to tell you, Ned" he add
ed. ~ have done with Green Valley
creek, and shaken off it's crew. Luck
has favored me beyond my hopes; can
afford to turn my back upon it. l shall
take my daughter-she does not know
it yet-with me to Goulburn to-mor-
row, where we shall remain for short
time, then go on to Melbourne; have
thoughts of settling there"
AS he spoke, the little tie of COM
radeship between US shattered; in a
moment we We're sundered as the
poles, so quietly he brushed it away.
''If you like to step round early in
the morning and see us off, you can.
Why, my good fellow, you look quite
down. Well, it is kind to be sorry to
lose me. We shall meet the wagons at
the end of the wood. If those scoun-
lrels intend to dog my steps-I agree
with you their trip to Hulton's is only
a ruse-I should find your company
useful; also, you could help to carry our
few belongings. paid up my rent to
johnson at the tavern last night; per-
haps you'd kindly give him the shanty
IleyGWhy, straightways," with laugh.
ing surprise, ''has my news struck you
lumb?"
felt as if it had, as if I were shot
through and through; the earth swayed
under my feet. He was condescend-
ingly gratified at my troubled state,
talk ng it all to himself; he was just the
man to do it. ''''
You We're always an honest fellow,
Media trusty creature! Be sure that
you come tomorrow; my daughter
will like to shake hands with you be-
fore she leavesi" and he went on gayly
through the rich, thick grass.
No rest was mine that night; evil was
in the air. So, as l could not sleep,
got up and went out. Not being a
fool knew 1 must keep my misery to
but my life was empty! empty!
1t held vacant place that could never
be filled-never again! never againl
You see, was hard hit, mate, like thS
donkeys. ! stamped and stormed at
myself for a incoming idiot. What Miss
Helen was to me? What could she
ever have been to me?-a numbering
vagabond chap, not worthy to kiss the
dust she trod on.
But must go back and watch the
house that covered her for this last
night, so l returned to the ravine In it
were many little dells swarming with
the wild-fowers of the grand Australian
spring. Now, in one of these same
dells what do you think / saw?-a
dead mans face. Yes, knew at once
that he was dead; but so easily the
squire" rested on the wet moss, that
the song ] had heard him singing
might still have been upon his lips.
Raising his head. l found blow
aimed from behind had killed him. He
had dronned and died at nnca His