The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1895-04-20

1
locker. Stood six In his stockings.
knew him the minute l sot eyes Oh
him. He know me, but never twiggcd
Bill Mcconnell war ahead, and hs
opened the meetin' without singin'.
"'Good morning, stranger
"Good morning.
"'Scen anything of a man about
your size straddle of sorrel mare look.
in heap like the one you rider
"'No, haven't
"That's apurty good marc o yourn.
Eyes, she was worth n cool five hum
drcd dollars, but she's a little winded
now; say, mister, I'll give you five
hundred dollars clear for that one o.
yourn and stop the deal He was
making good bluff, Mister Editor.
Hoss stcalin' in them days was death
on the spot. lie kncwsswe war on him.
His offer would well pay for the
brokcn-down boss, and he war n
banlsin' that his money would pull
him through. But, yer see, he didn't
know Mcconnell. Mac had been cap'n
of the vigilants back in '63, up in Their
Basin, and had n name ter keep white.
He just smiled at the mans innocence.
That's straight blind o your'n, pard,
anti stands us to come in, but we're
thar an hold you over. You look a
lectle mite played out, as well as yer
mare. If you'll jest get down an jine
our little party, it'll stretch yer legs,
an mebbe ye need stretchin' all over
''He got little white under the
gills, but slid down without word.
We followed suit, and Agnew threw
over his head n moose, an pnssin' the
other end over limb of that lone old
tree, nodded that things war ready.
THAT young fellow was game ter
tho last. Never moved a muscle.
Seemed kinder like shame. Neon
nell went up to him and said:
"'Now, pard, is everything all right?
Docs it fit your neck accordin' to
Hoyle?'
"'All right
"'Have you anything to say why
this ere little picnic shouldn't pro-
cccd?"
"'Nothin'.'
Have We got any word ter leave TO
yer friends? If yc have, make it short,
fur we're goin' TO break camp inside or
ten minutes
THAT young Teller took his eyes off
a bit of sage brush fur the first time
and looked US straight in the eyes.
His eyes war blue. / took notice of
that, an his face was clean and kind
of pure loolsi n lie didn't seem to be
takin' much interest in what war goin'
on round him. Kinder had PARKWAY,
talkin'- ter-the-angels look. Made me
feel as though l didn't count nohow
Kept thinkin' of something learnt in
Sunday school in Missouri when /
warn't bigger nor that basket o.
papers Then he came to, an DRAWN
a crumpled letter from his pocket,
spoke with n kinder tremble in his
voice:
"'Pcrhaps you are better scholar
nor be. If you'll jest read that an
be kind cnuf to answer 1t, I'll tell yer
what ter say
mcconnell had already passed the
coil of rope to Jim Agnew and he had
drawn it taut. He took the letter, an,
rs we hung around kinder curious like,
he opened it an read out loud
"'ETowAH, Ca, Jan, Is, 1874 My Dear Son
James: For long weary months have waited
for nows from you, since your last dear letter
to your old mother God bless you. James,
and answer my prayers, that this letter may
reach you. thanking you for your ever thought
ful care for me In my old ago. But once moro
to look in your dear face and feel that my
baby boy was near me would cheer my old
heart more than to possess MI tho gold in
Idaho When arc you coming homo? You
promised me that In tho spring you would
como back to me. NAY tho good God watch
over and prosper you, and return my dear boy
to my old arms before die. From your loving
MOTHER
Joe paused and looked vacantly up
Mt the ceiling. His eye followed the
drunken gyrations of the yellow wasp.
The heavy rumble of the great cylinder
warned me that the outside pages were
going to press and that more copy
would soon be needed. Still / waited
In silence.
THAT letter did the business.
Mcconnell had had good cdication
back in Michigan, and he commenced
In a strong, clear voice, but afore tho
closing words war ont, 1t war all we
could do ter hear his voice. Yes, sir, an
my eyes got weaker nor n sick hcifer's.
Fact! The rope slnc kened until it fell
from the hands of Jim Agnew, and as
the breath of tho mornin' came a-rush-
in through the leaves of that old tree,
and long shafts o sunlight kinder pros
pcctcd down through the opening
boughs, someway, my old throat cavcd
In like an went ter thinkin' o. long,
sunny days on the banks of the Mis-
souri,, of my old dorg, an NV little
sister with eyes jest like this fellcr's,
an of my old nanny an how she
taught me to pray. Couldn't help it,
Mr.. Editor, but borrowin' boss an
Robin stage didn't seem big
enough thing to string that boy up fur,
nm break his old mothers heart.
Guess Mcconnell war thinlsin' o. tho
the same way, fur he kind of reverent-
ly like folded up that soiled bit o. pa
per and handed 1t to its owner, an
a word slipped the moose from
his neck, an then in tones Us gentle as
q mothers asked:
"'War we goin' home, stranger2'
"'Ycsr
'Good-by.
"The boy didn't dare to trust his
voice in thanks. knew how he felt,
but he drew from his belt small bag