Crawford avalanche. (Grayling, Mich.) 1879-19??, 1894-03-29

| uuedSily In Inc Saddle.
do you love him, Miss Penn
broker"
''Siri"
do you love Charley Brantleyf"
TWAS q plain question, plainly put.
From another person 1t would have
been resented as q most impertinent
one; but even the naughty Miss
Pembroke could not get angry with
this frank, simple-hearted man. With
frightening color she replied:
| Eyes, Mr.. Langdon; / don't mind
telling you that ! do love him. We
are engaged to be married."
She was not looking at him. She
did not see the gray pallor that crept
slowly into his face, or the nervous
manner in which he raised his hand
to his throat and pulled at his collar
as II it were choking him.
She was looking out over the valley,
too much abashed by her own confess
sion to meet her companions gaze.
Z" am anxious about Charley"
she said, after while. &C. fear his
life is in danger"
Joe started and looked positively
guilty. Had she read the thought
that flashed lightning-like through
his mind?
But the girl did not see-did not
know. With eyes still averted she
continued:
Charley has such temper, and
he sometimes loses control of it. The
day he went away he caught man
in the act of stealing his silver
mounted rife, which he valued so
highly, and without pausing to con-
slider the consequences he struck the
fellow across the face with his riding
whip. have since heard that the
man has sworn vengeance on him,
and declared he would kill him
at the first opportunity. The thought
is so terrible that / cannot drive it
from my mind, and / fairly dread
Charley's return. Perhaps you could
contrive to save him, Mr. Langdon-"
''Eh2 II don't-did you speak to
me. Miss Pembroke?"
She looked at him now, with an ex-
preston of surprise. She saw how
deathly pale he was, and with q
woman's readiness to jump at con-
illusions she exclaimed:
"You believe it, too. You think
Charley is in peril! know you dol"
wait minute, Miss Pembroke"
said the miner, making mighty eff
fort to recover composure, and par
TALLY succeeding.
you say some Teller has taken an
oath he'd kill your-Charley Brant-
ley. Who is the TELLER, an what's
his manner"
'The people here call him whisky
Tom. He is a low, dissipated half
breed. OF course you know him."
Whisky Tom! / know him for q
drunken scamp and vagabond. :, said
Joe, with emphasis. III ouobter
been hung long 'aSr, WIN bless
your heart, Wb'.,,t v III Tom IA mnrder
ms ms mother for a glass O. whisky.
wneh .le says he'll kill a Teller you
.eedn't flatter yerself that he won't
try his blamedest to do it, jest as
soon as he can make sneak on the
Teller. All I'm s'prised at is that
he tried to steal rifle-unless he
wanted to sell it for money to buy
liquor with. He never uses firearms
nohow-couldn't hire him to have
anything to do with 'em. He does
all his shootin' with bow an arrow,
an he can knock a woodpecker out O.
the top Of Californy pine every clip.
Why, Miss Pembroke, you're white
as a ghost !"
"Oh, won't you try and save him,
Mr.. Langdonr"
''Save who?"
Charley. II anything like-like
that should befall him it would kill
me. / know It would"
1t would have been hard to tell
which was the paler of the two, only
for the sun-bronze on the miners
face. 1t was trying ordeal through
which he was passing, and for a mo-
inent it seemed as II he were turning
to ice; but the big, unselfish heart
melted beneath the piteous, pleading
gaze Of those eyes that had played
such havoc with it during these
sunny weeks. Joe Langdon wiped
the Precipitation from his brow, con-
scious that he was trembling, and
that she would surely notice his agi-
tation.
IF so be-" he said, with another
great effort to be calm-''if 80 be it
should come in my power to do Char
ley Brantley a service, I'd do it, Of
course-for your sake! But come,
Miss Pembroke, he added, in a more
cheerful tone, "you mustn't let yer
self think O. sech things. l guess
Mister Brantley amt in sech danger
but what he'll take keer of hisself all
right. It's time for us to be movin'
down the mountain. Well have O
sharp appetite for breakfast after the
ride, / reckon; but it won't do for
you to carry that white face back to
the hotel. You'll skeer everybody
out of years growth" Then, after
they had started of at brisk canter,
he said: What do you say to a
race, Miss Pembroke? Let's see
which o. these horses can take the
rag of the bush in mile stretch"
And away they galloped at reck-
less rate of speed, leaving a cloud Of
dust in their wake.
1t was the next day after this oc-
currence that Joe Langdon stood
lnopin0 o0oinat tho tr,rnk ~ n hu0o