People's voice. [volume] (Wellington, Sumner County, Kansas) 1890-1917, 1893-04-07

Clonan. sor, to kape her face hid an her
mouth shet. May tn Holy Mither bliss
an shpeed yer thrick, Misther viii; but
| kin nivver tech-thot!''
Certainly you can't Forgive my
awkwardness, Mary" Mckee cried,
with deep blush, invisible under his
pigment. But it was not intended for
pay only a little present. Anyway, !
shall remember your help and trust
your loyalty always"
He shook hands again with the wom-
an, who paused in the doorway to say:
"Thim pockets be dape, Masther Car
roll; an tn nights cowld. Ye'd bether
be putin flask O. summat in 'em. II
won't be the first, perhaps; an it'll be
naded, beyant."
Damned if she hasn't longer head
and truer heart than most men, Mer-
edith exclaimed, as the door closed.
mix for yourself, Willie. There are
TASKS and demijohns galore in the side
board; but yours truly has not even
peeped into it since he broke his word,
for old times, with Peyton Fitzhugh By
the way, have you seen him since?"
Sunday morning, at the prisoners
line, but not later" Mckee answered
81 suppose he's loafng about the club,
when he should be in Virginia, fighting,
Meredith growled.
"No; he hasn't showed at the club
since that night. But don't abuse him,
Carroll He'll turn up all right, | guess.
Something | heard tonight makes me
think Fitzhugh is game"
81 hope so" the other retorted. But
Mosby and Stuart need men all the
same"
Then for two hours the men talked
earnestly over roads, routes and cut-offs
in the country, Mckee never once drop
ping into natural speech, but using
Mary Clonan's brogue and manner,
eliciting his friends frequent praise on
his capital acting.
And just as the clock struck three,
Mr.. Carroll Merediths shooting trap,
drawn by his best horse, turned slowly
into Mr.. Gray's large yard, the host
himself-again swinging the key that
imprisoned the sleeping servants-open-
ing the gate He stared with equal sur
prise and doubt at the buxom woman
handling the reins so like an expert.
"Aisy, darlin'. Ye've no made to look
out. Tn shtrate's all clear" the driver
said, making an easy turn to face the
gate. 'Be me sowl, | do be forgetthin!
Here'sa note fur tn young miss NIisther
McKay's soft on"
Then dead silence reigned, as the
master of the house took the note in,
soon reappearing with two shadowy
figures, one heavily mufled.
There YVES a long, clinging embrace,
and then Carolyn Clay whispered:
Words cannot say what owe you,
Bess-and him! Think of it, dear,
with Gods blessing, within three days
l shall kiss mamma and my poor little
Fairfax
"Good-by, darling Caro-. May He
watch over and take you safely to them.
Willie says you can trust the woman
implicitly"
81 do, dear; tell him sol Good-byl
God bless you and him! God bless
you ALL"
Another straining of the girl to her
heart, a long, sisterly kiss, and Carolyn
Clay was on the seat by her strange
guide, and Mr.. Gray tuczing in the
heavy robes, needful that freezing night.
Then out quietly into the still street,
slowly over echoing stones, through
moonless, bitter cold, the hunting-trap
ratified lightly, the pace mending as
they neared the outskirts and the i'm
patient horse, given his head, broke into
his swinging trot.
Carolyn Clay, wrapped in close-cling-
ing thought and once more joyous in her
sense of freedom gained, was as silent
for awhile as was the careful driver; but,
as they left houses far behind and
bowled along the country road, she
turned to her mute companion:
"You seem to be good driver"
"Shure; I've druv him afore. Tn
beastie knows the hand o. me-" was the
quiet reply.
rs there any chance of meeting pa.
trolls on this road?" the girl agar
queried, after pause.
"Divvil a guard" was the response.
9TH addijjittint-gineril towld me-by
tn same token, Misther .McKay-thot
tn road was clear"
HALT Who goes there?" rang out q
challenge from the darkness directly in
front; and the drivers great fur gloves
rested against the ample bust, as the
horse was pulled up short. "Who goes
thereP" the challenger repeated, grufly.
AN who wad We shuppose?" was the
answer, to Miss Clay's great dread
can, by tn same token, it's not goin'
am, but comm"
Have you the countersign, woman?'
"Have | tn Whddti But I'm not to be
shtopped by my wan! Gin'ril Bond
beyant in tn town, sid I'd take me
dochther home free an ondisthurbed
sor."
Have you the countersignP" agair
came grufly from the darkness.
"Shure I've some av it." was the re.
ply, and the driver nudged Miss Clay
| as the fur glove W;.nt deem into the am