The Van Buren press., 1894-09-15

and l shan't get : chance of bein' ever
with that old Marysviiie chap. I'd die
easier II I could dip his head into bis
own ink bar'l."
Jake gazed thoughtfully into the
fire with puzzled. simple eyes. He
was man who thought slowly. but
who always acted with commcndable
promptuess when he had once made ur
| his mind.
Il was over to Hutchinson's to-day,
he resumed, presently, and the doc
gave me some stuff for You. I'll FL
you up with a dose. and then you
won't want anythin' till the mornin'
It's eleven o'clock now
The poet looked at Jake curiously
"You amt had . sleep for week.
reckon, Jake?"
mot being used to your COINS on,
Jake, naturally amt had wink
When you gets TO rearin' round an
breakin' blood vessels an seein angel,
playin' flutes in the distance, an callin
for your old woman when thar ain'i
no female, old or young, in this yere
shanty. it's only nat'ral there yere un
known partiesll expect some one to
look after 'em when they gifts here
As he spoke he poured some medi-
cine into an old cracked teacup and
held it to the sick youths lips. One
arm stole gently round the boy the
was little more than boy), who, with
q CLEAN of mischief In his great eyes,
put up a thin white hand to the
bronzcd cheeks above him and gave
them csressing rub.
Jake was manifestly discomposed by
this poetic exhibition of tenderness.
Quit yer foolin',. he said. hnskily,
AN drink this ycre mixture. It'll
keep yer quiet till mornin'."
The boy drank with difficulty. "Yes-
Jake, reckon it'll keep me quiet till
mornin'; that's about the time the
river1eaves off callin'."
Jake affected not to hear this pes
simistic remark, but talked on in wan,
dering fashion until the boys fair
head fell back upon his arm. Then he
covered him up carefully, veiled the
light Of the lamp with an old towel
and drew a revolver from the shelf.
The wind. as it blew beneath the
rude door of pine slabs, rustled the
papers about the floor. Jake picked
them up. bent over the boy to make
sure that the opiate had done its work
and crept cautiously into the darkness.
A low whinny of delight greeted him
rs he entered the narrow shanty which
served as a stable. Without striking
a light he saddled his brown mare,
ed her into the trail and mounted.
Now. old lady," he said, you bet
you've got to hustle
The mare whinnied again and broke
into long, swinging gallop.
As she sped on through the darkness
Jake sat squarely back in the saddle,
the reins hanging loosely, and only
stirring when splash of water from
the mares flying hoofs wet his cheeks.
A mistake on her part meant that
his brains would be dashed ont
against the trunk of the nearest pine,
but he made no sign, only holding the
papers little tighter, when his mare
left the track.
After an hours hard galloping his
practised eye detected q light in the
distance.
"Shooh!" he said to his mare.
"Gently, lass, gently, we're almost
thar"
He drew rein on the outskirts of
Marysville. and tied the mare to pine
stump. Then he crept along to the one
tumble-do hut in which there was a
light, and peered through the window
with satisfied look.
Mr.. Watson II. Bangs (Mr. Bangs
comprised In his own person the ed
itor, star, devil" printer. advertising
agent and proprietor Of the Marysville
Gazette), was composing Saturdays
leader, assisted in his consumption of
the midnight oil BY bottle of whisky,
which occupied one end Of table at
which he sat. Every now and then he
clipped long paragraphs from "ex-
changes" on a bench at his side and
laboriously pasted them together.
Then he would march to the nearest
case, pick up the type from various
little boxes and throw 1t about with
all the rapidity of practiced Jug
gler.
Suddenly the door opened and Jake
entered, dripping from the storm.
Old Mr.. Bangs made for the drawer
of diotant table in which his revolv
er lay hid. When he recognized his
visitor he abandoned all warlike intcn
tions, casting at the same time a re
luctant glance at the whisky bottle, al
II uncertain how long it would holt
out against the newcomers attacks.
Jake slid into the editorial chair
after carefully closing the door, ant
old man Bangs, with reluctant nod
in the direction Of the bottle. went or
with his task.
"Sit down." said Jake, briefly, point
ing to chair, and declining the i'm.
piled invitation.
Old man Bangs sat down and re-
freshed himself with pull at the bot
tie.
Its nice sort of night at the -Four
Corners" he said, cheerfully. 81 guess,
if the river keeps on risin', old Hutin.
son III be drowned out afore mornin'.' y
"Mebbe," said Jake.
"There's sort Of yarn when the
~tvvarsu That htnk ~ <~11 vv,c H. -.