Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1894-04-07
whispered answer was:
"My real name is Charley. /
don't belong here. They painted

A blow right over the ear this
time cut short the words. The squaw
could not hear much, but she had
seen enough to know that the artist
and child were talking.
The child was hurled into corner
to cry itself to sleep, and the artist
proceeded to produce negative of
the squaw's ugly features. His hand
trembled, he dropped everything he
touched, and spoiled several plates
before he obtained anything at all
satisfactory.
Fortunately Big Thunder and Joe
kept out of sight and did not notice
his excited manner. He had pre-
tended deafness, but managed to
catch these bits Of talk carried on in
the other room
Thunder, you're fool for letting
white man in here. Our games 10
I'll bet anything"
Needn't be afraid of that old
simpleton, Joe. He's deafer than
an adder He didn't hear what the
kid said f:
" How do yon know he isn't de-
tective ?n
/" No danger, tell you he is SO
old he cans stand up straight"
The artist finished his photograph
ic work, made few sketches, and a
little before shutdown took his de-
parture.
No sooner was he out of sight than
he suddenly became an agile, fleet
footed person, skimming over the
ground with surprising swiftness.
In an increditahly short time he
had gained the Weston claim shanty
and by few dexterous touches had
passed from old age, to flushed, i'm.
pe.uous youth. In ten minutes more
the best horse was saddled, Will
Weston had turned the key In the
shanty door and was galloping rap
idly away.
"I'll go right to the county-seat
for the sheriff and posse of men I;
it's twenty miles nearer than home, |"
he thought. :" II Joe hasn't suspect
ed me, we'll have him and Thunder
in custody before tomorrow night
and little Charlie in mothers arm"
Joe Lambeau had suspected the
artist, but Joe had an enemy that
often thwarted his best laid plans.
He had come TO the reservation we'll
supplied with strong drink.
He and Big Thunder had drank at
intervals during the day, aud when
the artist left were noticeably under
its influence.
Z" Say, Thunder, we're going to
get left by lettin' that stranger in
here; feel it all over" Joe said in
thick voice-the whiskey was fast
disabling him. Hadn't we better
kill the young one, an throw it in
the lake, an skip. /"
I" Don't be AFRAID growled Big
Thunder, drowsily. "That old hump
back can't hurt anything"
They discussed inc oherently few
plans for safety, but could not agree
and finally succumbed to the poison,
and fell into sound sleep. In other
words they were dead drunk.
About the time the old artist en-
tered Big Thunder's house, Mr.. Yves
ton entered the kitchen where his
Vile was ana SAID:
"Hurry up dinner, Jennie, I'm 60
ing to drive up to the claim this af.
ternoon. Wills been away nearly
six weeks, and we've heard nothing
from him. He must be wasting time
as usual"
Mrs. Weston said all she G uld to
prevent his going, but in vain. She
was not troubled at Wills long alb
sence. On the contrary, the hope
that he would find Charley had
steadily grown brighter as the days
went by.
Mr.. Weston reached the claim
about an hour after Will had left for
the county seat. 1t was getting
dark, but he discovered that the
backsetting was not half done, that
Will and one horse were gone, and
that the camera had evidently not
been neglected.
III it wasn't for this COMPOUNDED
thing the boy might be good for
something" he muttered, giving the
camera-which Will, in his haste,
had left Oh the floor--a kick, that
damaged it to the extent that the
owner never had it repaired.
He was angry, and as the night
wore away and Will did not come,
he became very restless. As soon as
it was light, he hitched his team to
the pillow and went to back setting.
Joe Lanbeaus drunken slumber
was undisturbed until the rising sun
streaming in through the dirty win
dow, shone fullin his face. He sprang
up, rubbed open his bleared eyes,
and sat for moment staring blank
ly around the room, trying to r. col
lect what had TRANSFERRED.
Gradually it all came back to hi
stupefied brain-the old artist, the
child's talk, his suspicious. Some
way, as he put il all together, he fell
to connecting the artist with Will