Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1894-01-18

get down. His own life is of no conse-
quence, but he must and will take
yours" Upon hearing which the young
man had n total collapse, and on his
knees begged and prayed me to pacify
the man waiting for him below.
My mind was made up that nothing
short of blood would wind up the affair,
and | had no desire to see again, much
less try to conciliate the wrath of the
old mountaineer,
But my frequent passing to and fro,
and the excitement of the fresh young
man. had attracted the attention of
the night manager, who had just come
on duty. He volunteered to go down
and have a look at the fire eater, and
reported: "He is the toughest of his
gang. | know him by sight. Dead
shot! Grown up with the country. It's
customs are his laws, He will have
your blood, Greene, if he has to travel
a thousand miles to get it! And there
is no jury out here that will convict
him if he kills you"
| don't know which was more terri.
bic to witness, the deep wrath of the
mountaineer or the covering fright of
the young man. He clung to us and
implored us to go down and get terms
of capitulation; and as last argument
bade us tell the old fellow that he had
mother and sister.
We thought him of no use to either
relative, but his craven cowardice
awakened sort of contemptuous pity
that urged us on our errand of mercy.
al 80 tn1,t al
explained matters TO them, and went
down to the old man in body.
Now" said the night manager, put
ting on bold front, II know you, and
know what you are here for But
am boss, and will not allow a fight in
the operating-room."
"All right" said the man, quietly;
"I'il wait here for him, ii he stays
above till he's ninety"
''Have go at him, Luke" whispered
win Kerner, aside. "If you can't get
Greene off none of us can"
Above, the fresh young man from the
east was trying to give flavor to his
case by rolling on the floor in misery
and uttering frequent groans indicative
of his last hour. The mountain man
listened and his eyes blazed with scorn
when | went up to him.
Come, now, stranger" | began,
family enough, I'VE know the young
man gave youa great deal of talk. but
it was only in fun, and he has not lived
as long as you. Besides, he sinned in
complete ignorance of the customs of
this country, and has never handled a
frearm in his life If you kill him it
will be nothing short of willful murder.
Then too, he has a mother and sister
in the east 1t is not such as you who
war against women. Let it pass He
regrets his part in the affair.".
said much more, and then several
of the night operators joined me and
put in plea. Well, sir, we did all
but go on our knees for that green
horns life. In the meantime the
tumblings and dcspairing groans from
above made us blush to voice his cause.
At last the man from the mountains
turned round and spat ON the floor.
That was our answer. It said as plain
as words could: THAT for such! He is
not worth killing"
lie made over to us the young
mans lie on certain conditions. The
next morning the terms of the treaty
were complied with. At nine o'clock
Greene sent over by wire the most alb
iect apology man ever framed, and
every station on the line was rung rp
to get the message.
am east again. 1t seems TO me that
a coward's short memory must be a
peculiar dispensaticn of providence to
help him tread the earth again with
some degree of confidence For | saw
young Greene in Boston, and while tho
sigh of him recalled to me the awful
threat of that old mountain man, he
was talking to friend on Washington
street thus:
The west? All, yesl | did try 1t
for awhile. Couldn't stand it though,
| you know. The earthquakes bothered
me too much"