People's voice. [volume] (Wellington, Sumner County, Kansas) 1890-1917, 1893-04-28

rolling the ends loosely, ready 10 his
hand.
Ice lined the banks Of the creek, stiff
fleming the rushes into bayonets; and
the heavy oars cracked in the rowlocks
at first. But the midstream was clear,
and the slow-moving boat soon turned
into broad, black inlet that showed
them, straight ahead, the broad PotO-
mac, waveless and barely touched by
last rays Of the sinking moon. Warily
and slow Pete Rugged the darker shore,
nosing his light, dat-bottomed skiff
against the bank, biding his time. Then
all listened intently; but the negro,
dropping his great hand from his ear,
spoke first:
"Da's de patrol boat, missy. Eff she
come up t'udder side Is gwine lay low.
Eff she come dis we's gwine out ter
meet 'er."
"Why, that's folly, Pete! We can't be
seen here" Evan began; but Miss Clay
broke in:
"Hush, Evan! We're only passen-
gers, and Pete is captain. I've crossed
with him only to learn that he knows
best"
'Reck'n yo's bout right, Missy" the
black replied, quietly. "Da circus
bossy better do all de talk he got 10
Yves outen de creek. He boun' ter keep
pow'ful shet den, sholy.'
The moon went down behind the up
river heights with a sudden dip, and
blackness fell like a cloak over the
bosom Of the broad stream The shore
line, just at hand, was barely discerni-
Bile; fifty feet ahead was as inky and
and shapeless as Acheron's pit. But
paddles were clearly heard nova
propeller turning rapidly; and the
sounds indicated close approach to the
northern shore. Then Pete ordered,
quietly:
Lay low! Bofe yo' lay in de hay;
an, mini keep still. Efyo' moobes, dis
game dun loss, sholy."
Used to strange perils, both whites
lay close in the hay. Then Pete struck
a match and touched the light wood
knots piled on an earthen mound in the
bow, by their flicker pulling the oil
cloths smoothly above them, leaving
scant space open for neceeelry air.
Then, lighting his black corncob pipe,
he grasped his paddle and shot the
skiff straight out into the stream, as
the patrol boat came abreast the creek.
Boat ahoy!" rang over the water, as
the bell clicked twice and the propel-
Ter almost stopped.
"Patrul 'hOyl" was Pete's return hail.
Its only me, boss, Fishmun Pete"
where away?" came the hail again.
Fur de fats low de bend" was the
answer. rs gwine fre-fshin', 'pendin'
on de ice in hind de pint"
"All right, Pete" the hailing officer
answered, recognizing the familiar
voice of the unsupported negro. SO
ahead, and good luck! Well be down
after day; so have good mess of fish
for u.s."
'Sholy, Mars Patrul, eff | hab eny
luck; eff sum O de transput boats doan'
bodder me-"
'They won't bother you," came the
answer But there's many a one COM
ing up. They'll run you down, if you
don't keep your fire bright"
us gwine ter keep 'er bright, sholy,"
Pete called, as he padded downstream.
Might, Mars Patrul"
The propeller was churning the
black water once more, Pete fast draw
ing away, aided by the current. He
turned in shore, pulled back the oil
cloths, as he rounded the point and
dumped his torch overheard.
wipe yo' face, missy" he cautioned,
thoughtfully. "De presferation mought
freeze, an yos warm in da hay"
Rather, cried Evan; but he shivered
as he sat bolt upright, from sudden
change.
He said many transports were in the
river?" the girl queried, anxiously.
He sayed it, sholy, Missy" was the