Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1893-12-09
THE EDGE OF THE WOOD.

The hot afternoon sun was beating
with intense fervor on the dusty trail
which led through the dreary monotony
of the alkali plain. winding its tortuouS
length around huge rocks and sand
tipped knobs. and losing itself in the
cool shades of Il grove of trees grow
ing about the foothills of the distant
mountains. All nature seemed dead
or sleeping, except for the gruesomc
cry of IA solitary sand-snipe pursuing
its industrious search for insects, now
hopping up to the Swaying branch of
Il sage bush. again running along the
smooth surface of the parched sand
with that impcrccptible motion of the
legs that gave it the likeness of Il tiny
boat floating through Il sea of dazzling
white water. Now the bird disappears
from view behind distant hillock.
and not Il sound, not a moving object,
diSturbs the death-like calm of the vast
cXpauSc of sand and brush.
But what is that far-away cloud? A
moment since so small as to be almost
indisccrnible but steadily growing
larger and more distinct, until the
forms of Il horse and rider may be dis
tinguished amid the loose white sand
phere.
Nearer and nearer to the welcome
shadows of the green trees draws the
wealied animal, its rider digging the
cruel spurs deep into the bleeding
tanlls in the effort to keep his horse
up until the woods are reached.
Now the man glances back and starts
in the saddle as his eyes catch sight of
another cloud of dust out on the hori-
zon, larger, and approaching more rap
idly than his horse is travelling. Turn
ing again towards the grove, he puts
forth his utmost efforts to keep the
horse from tagging, and beats the poor
brute Savagely about the head with
the end of his heavy raw-hide quirt.
A noble effort on the part of the ami
NAL, Il stumble. desperate attempt to
recover his feet, and the horse plunges
forward and falls to the earth, throw
ing his rider with the force of cata-
pult against the trunk of the first tree
on the edge of the grove.
The horse staggers to his feet and
begins to eagerly crop the short under
growth The rider lies with face up
turned to the sky, thin stream of
blood tricklng from his brow and fall
ing, drip, drip, on the dead leaves.
He is young man, seemingly in the
first glad enjoyment of a happy youth,
long, fair hair floating about his head
in the manner of the Western sport
and clad in the dress of a cowboy,
with the exception that the material is
finer and the fit more perfect than is
generally worn by this class.
The face of the inSenSible man, seen
in its death-like repose, is strikingly
fIll rim c,nft ,,1, ,ri, IL
ish expression, and the sensitive lips,
blood, seemed more fitted for uttering
soft nothings in lady's ear than for
the harsh words of a Western bravo.
His eyelids tlutter, then open slowly,
and here is seen the true mirror of the
mans character. Even in his present
state the flashing gray eyes take on an
expression demon might envy, chang
ing the whole countenance into the
hard, set look seen in the eyes of Il
man who has been driven forth by the
laws of his land, and takes his life i'll
to his hand in any intercourse with
his fellow creatures.
The second cloud of white dust had
now dissolved itself into a body Of
horsemen, the riders wearing the stern
countenanccs of men who had set out
for defined purpose, and We're not to
be thWartcd by any human interven-
ton.
The leader, a man who seemed cut
out by nature for the position. turned
to his nearest companion and, point
ing to the grazing steed, said:
There's his horse, Bill. but blamed
if | can see anything of the chap
Spose he's taken to the woods and
expects to lose his trail among the
rocks. But so help me God, I'll track
him to the ends of creation, but what
I'll have his life for that of poor Char
lies"
And I'll stay with ye pard." an
sWered the man addressed, land when
we take the back trail 'Flashy
Franks bones will be left for the
coyotes to pick"
ton arose to his feet. one long, white
hand pressed against his bleeding tenn
pie, the other holding a revolver.
There he is" cried the leader. and
instantly a dozen revolvers were out
and levelled at the solitary figure, fol-
lowed by the stern command, Hands
up. you tiend, or down you go."
Its death either way, Jack Meckcr,
and I'll take mine without the assist
ancc of halter. if its just the same
to YOU. SO come and get me, you
blood hounds" retorted "Flasky
Frank" with II bitter smile
This bold stand seemed to momen-
tarlly disconcert the men who were
eager for the capture of the plucky
youth, but in Il seconds time they re-
covered themselves, and the leader,
Jack Meeker rode slowly forward un-
I'll within easy pistolshot and, lowering
his revolver, looked steadily into the
boys eyes and said:
'Flashy Frank, l have followed YOU
for two days and nights, and every
moment of that time l have sworn
that you should hang, like the coward
~ murderer you are, and hang You
shall. The blood of my brother has
cried to me for revenge every step of
this long trail, and you shall not die
by shot, but hang like a dog, with
my hand on the rope
AS he finished speaking he icrkcd
mp his revolver and with the report
the pistol arm of the young murderer
fell to his side broken and useless.
Before the wounded man could rc-
cover his weapon with his left hand
Meeker was upon him, grasping him
by the throat with the tierceness and
tGnacity of a wolf. He was soon tied.
rope brought from one of the sad
dies thrown over the limb of the same
tree against which the boy had been
dashed by his horse, and moose plnc-
ed about his neck.
"Flashy Frank, if you have not for
lhn