Crawford avalanche. (Grayling, Mich.) 1879-19??, 1894-07-26
4 LAST RESORT.

the tall grass and trees dripping
from heavy rains. Just emerging in
to a dark cornfield from still darker
woods, young man, his clothine
drenched and mud-stained, his face
haggard and desperate, and his whole
attitude as he leaned heavily against
the rail fence telling Of utter ex.
haustion. He was worn out. Fol
more than two hours he had beer
flying for life over a country imper.
fectlY known to him. though familiar
to his pursuers.
Turn which way he would, Gilbert
Hazelton could see nothing before
him but speedy and disgraceful
death. Never to see the sun again,
nay, not even n friendly face! Was
this the end of the bright hopes with
which he had kissed his mother good.
by only two short months before.
He had been accused of murder,
tried for his life, found guilty and
sentenced to death. His letter to his
friends must have miscarried, foI
they had not come to his relief. Poor
and alone among strangers, who per-
sisted in believing him identical with
the tramp who had murdered poor
David Westford, Gilbert had yet
fought bravely for his life. Some few
had been convinced of his innocence,
and his lawyer had succeeded in OBJ
tanning II new trial, in which new
witnesses might at least prove an
alibi.
But when this word went abroad,
the townspeople were furious. They
had seen more than one undoubted
criminal escape through some tech
nicality. Were they now to see the
murderer of poor David Westford
escape through the easily bought per-
jury of some worthless companions
in crime? They vowed it should not
be. Last night at dusk groups of
stern-looking men stood before the
Jail talking grimly together, and q
whisper in the air warned the Sheriff
W hat was coming.
The Jail was old and ickety. He
could not defend it, and his resolve
was quickly taken. In the early
dusk the prisoner was sent out by a
side door, under charge of the
Sheriff's son, while the Sheriff him
self remained to make sure mob
violence did not make mistake and
seize some other victim. But treach-
cry carried the word to the mob
and they were soon in hot pursuit Of
the fugitives. In this emergency the
boy, who was firmly convinced of the
prisoners innocepce, released him,
demanding only promise to rejoin
him at a place appointed, and him
self turned back to throw the pur-
suers off the trail if possible. Gill
bert fully intended to keep his pro-
mise, but in the darkness he missed
his way, and the bloodhounds in the
rear caught his trail.
Now for two hours, which seemed
two eternities, he had been running
for life, and the unknown country
and horrible mud had completely ex-
hausted the little strength that two
months of confinement and terrible
anxiety had left him. Nothing but
utter desperation could have driven
him another rod. But when shout
came family from the rear he pushed
forward with great effort across the
strip of cornfield, through the fence,
and out on a well-travelled road.
To one less utterly worn out this
would have given glimmer of hope,
for here at least the mud had become
liquid ooze, which retained no foot
print. The pursuers would not know
which way to turn, and must watch
both roadsides to see that he did not
turn aside. But he was too tired to
use the advantage. and when, after
running a few rods he slipped and
fell, he lay there a full minute, too
utterly exhausted to rise.
A farmhouse stood a quarter of q
mile farther on, and as he lay there
painting. exhausted, waiting only for
death to overtake him, his hopeless
glances fell upon it's light. And then
he suddenly scrambled to his feet,
resolved to make one last effort for
life. He would struggle on to the
farmhouse, and appeal to the quiet
family circle.
1t took all the strength this last
faint hope gave him to carry him to
the gate and up the cinder walk,
whose hard, dark surface would be-
tray no footstep. Yet his heart failed
as he reached the door, and leaned,
utterly exhausted against the door
post.
The window was but d step away.
He crept to it and looked between
the curtains. A plain, neat farm
house kitchen, and two women, evil
IDENTIFY mother and daughter, sitting
by the table before the fire, the
mother sewing, the daughter reading
aloud. No one else in sight, yet Gill
bert gave a smothcred gasp and fell
back in despair.
David Westford's mother and sis
ter! That settles It'll
He had seen both faces at the trial
the elder, sad and patient under it's
silvery hair; the younger pure, pale
clear-clear-cut, thrown into strong
relief by the dark eyes, long Jet lashes
and heavy black braids.
He stood there still hopeless and
helpless, when there came break
in the clear voice within. The girl
had ceased reading. He looked in
and saw her pick up pitcher and
come toward the door. A moment
more and she had come out, all un-
conscious Of the man so near, gone