The Republican., 1894-05-24
eyes, SIR" the child replied, in a

| Yes, SIR" the child replied, in a
weak, piping voice.
Wal, it would "a been an accommo-
dation to me if he'd left it here, but
since he didn't, it can't be helped,
reckon. All can do is to wait till he
comes back"
There was momentary pause, after
which the man went on:
"How long yo' reckon your pap'll be
gomez" he asked.
Not long now, guess" the child
replied. ''He was just goin' to git
some medicine an come right back"
The man made no answer, and long
silence followed. After awhile the
child looked timidly up into the rough,
bearded face, and, speaking in eager
though trembling tones, said:
please, mister, you won't take all of
pas money, will you?"
| 81 reckon l WILL" the man answered,
unfeelingly. That's jest what l come
here for, an calc'late I'll not leave a
dollar that l can git my fingers on.
'Tain't my way O. doin' business.
IF you take it all we can't go away
from here" the child said sadly, IAN
the doctor says if we don't go pa an
me will both die, cause pas got the
consumption an I've got the fever"
THAT amt anything to me-" the
man replied, with cold indifference.
The child put it's thin hand over its
face and something like sob came
from it. 1t was almost a minute before
it looked up at the man again, both
eyes full of tears, and lips trembling
with suppressed emotions.
| 81 do want to go back to our old
home so bad," it said, plaintively.
"cause l was always well there an it
was SO pleasant. Every night dream
about it, an l see the big, shady blue
grass pasture, an the red-clover mead
ow, an the clear spring branch that
runs down through the orchard an
under the big elm trees, where l used
to have a swing. l dream it all over
every night, an I'm so happy till
wake up an find it's just dream"
The child's words and tone were
pathetic, but they had no effect on the
man to whom they were addressed.
He appeared oblivious to it all
ut is SO lonely out here on the prai-
rie with nobody but pa an me-" the
little voice went on, "an' | amt never
happy like used to be back at the old
home. used to cry every day till pa
sold the claim an got the money so we
could go away, cause l didn't want to
die an be buried out here, where there
amt nothin' but prairie an where the
crickets in the grass make me feel so
lonesome with their cries. 1t amt
nice, like it is back at the old home,
where the birds sing, an where there
are flowers an trees an little branches
of clear water"
The ochild paused for moment and
looked anxiously into the face of the
man, who sat immovable Then plead
ingly it continued:
You won't take Sll of pas money,
will you? 1t won't take much to take
us back home, an if you knew how
much | wanted to CO. and how grieve
to think of dying here, you'd let US
| have that much. You will let US keep
| a little, won't you?"
at amt likely that l WILL" the man
replied with an oath. "It don't make
any difference to me whether you go
! back to your home or whether you die
here. It's money l want, and l amt
apt to let chance to git it slip through
my fingers on account of any pitiful
stories''
At that moment there came the
| sound of a horses feet beating on the
hard earth. The man in the cabin
arose and placed his hand on his pistol.
ut is pa" the child said fearfully.
The man waited with his eyes fixed
on the door. The horseman role up
dismounted and approached the cabin.
There was the click of a pistol at the
window, and the man in the cabin
looked around to see a head thrust
through the broken sash and a pistol
! leveled at his breast. The head and
| the pistol were Joe's.
Throw up your hands!'' the latter
said, and the man could only obey, for
he was in Joe's power
Jim" said Joe, ''go in an relieve
the chap of his guns while hold him
quiet. He's made mistake in sup
posin' that that three hundred dollars
was intended fer him.
Jim acted on Joe's instructions, and
a moment later the man was driven
from the house and allowed to depart
| The settler had entered, and watched
the proceedings in silent wonder At
last he managed to ask:
what does this mean?"
Joe and Jim exchanged look, but
both hesitated to speak. The child's
voice broke the silence.
"The man had come to steal the
money" it said; "and he was waitin'
for you to come back when these men
come and drove him away"
There was a momentary pause, then
the settler turned to the trangers and
said:
you have rendered me great serv-
ice, gentlemen, and placed me under
lasting obligations to you. You have
saved my little possession, which,
though small, is a great deal to me-
since it affords me the means of saw.
ing my child's life. The doctor says
the little one must have a change OF
climate and the care of friends, in or
der to recover fron this dreadful
malaria. If you had not saved my
money from the robber we could never
have been able to leave here for our ole
| bona banly -