The Portland daily press., 1894-07-30

GNcu reply W Uil0 luQu1r16S bQ6y AhoNO
about the origin of the fire.
1t was easy to see that he was not a IA
vorite among them. The women espe-
cially looked upon him with disapproval in
their eyes.
When the house was burned to the
ground and Peter was homeless, one or
two of the men approached him and Of
fered him shelter at their houses. These
offers he refused, however, telling them
that he had already formed some plans
which made it impossible for him to ac
Eept their hospitality, and so they left him
30 take care of himself.
mo, nor' he muttered. 'sI feel now
that Selma has forgotten me. She is off
guard, and my time has come to work out
my revenge"
Had the memory of her power over him
deferred him all these years? And now
had she forgotten him9
From the day of the burning of Peters
house he was never seen again by any one
in the village, and the old ferry became
the property of another man.
For week the disappearance of Peter
was the theme of conversation by every
body In q month it was talked about by
few, and in a year all had been forgotten.
Peteville had grown into a town of
several hundred souls in less than week.
Peter, in his aimless wanderingsi among
the mountains, had accidentally stumbled
upon the richest mine that had been found
in that region for years, and he named it
''The Revenge" In week town was
located near it and was called Peteville
in honor of the lucky finder of the NINE
ye;r Of
Peteville when it was known that 1.-THE
Revenge had been sold to a capitalist for
an almost fabulous price, and that the
new owner Mr.. Window, was coming
there to take charge Of it in person.
Mr.. Window arrived promptly and
brought his wife with him to spend the
summer among the mountains.
1t was supposed that Peter would leave
the town then and go to some new field,
but instead he loitered around, occasion
ally taking trip into the mountains
alone.
One day Mr.. Window and his wife met
him up among the mountains, where they
had come to see an underground river Wis
ible through deep chasm from above, but
inaccessible from below.
1t was the first time since coming to the
had met face to face. Peter watched her
eagerly, for in spite of the changes the
years had wrought in her appearance she
was still the Selma of old to him, and the
old passion that had filled his whole life
with SO much bitterness flashed out of his
eyes.
The glance, however, was lost upon Sell
ma. To her he was only one of the rough
miners who swar1ned among the noun
tains, but to Mr.. Window he was CAPT.
talist, and as such he accosted him with a
degree of familiarity he would not have
accorded to the others.
They had met upon the very brink of
the chasm, at the bottom of which the
river was flowing
"A remarkable place., said Mr.. Win
dom, peering over the edge of the cliff eau
tiously.
Eyes" Peter replied, also peering over
the rock
II should like to find out where the riv-
er goes, said Mr.. Window. eff it were
possible to follow it's underground course
there is no telling what treasures one
might find"
''That's So mumbled Peter, watching
Mr.. Window closely, his eyes cleaning
like those of wild animal.
At the bottom of the chasm the water
could be seen running swiftly, and roar
ing sound, as of a mighty waterfall in the
distance, reached their ears.
Mr.. Window looked up and saw the
wild CLEAN in Peters eyes. He tried to
move away, but Peter sprang in front of
him
s'We will go down there together and
see what we will find. Come he cried
and threw his strong arms around Mr..
Window.
There was a fierce struggle They
swayed to and fro on the brink of the
chasm. In another moment they would
go over it and down to certain death.
Selma sprang forward, and in voice
that sounded wonderfully sweet uttered
only one word:
"Peter!''
He relaxed his hold in moment and
looked into her face.
Forgive me, he murmured.
Selma looked into his eyes and smiled.
She reached out her hand to him, and he
took it in both of his. The tears came to
his eyes and ran down his rough, weather
beaten cheeks.
II have nothing to forgive. But you
must leave us now," she murmured, dis
engaging her hand
Peter started away, staggering like q
drunken man. He stumbled toward the
brink of the chasm, and before they could
prevent it plunged downward and was
never seen again.-John P. Sjolander in
New Orleans Times Democrat.
Chart of the Sky.