The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, 1895-08-16
PROLOGUE.
upo. q Heap of stones.


"Rest here q minute, father, on this
heap of stones, perhaps you'll feel bet
ter presently"
The speakers were a man and q boy
who, together with little girl, were
vending their weary way over the
bleak, wind swept Wiltshire downs In
tie direction of London. In all direc-
lions the eye wandered over Il great
undulating track of stuble fields, from
which the corn had not long been clear
ed here and there relieved by q patch
of grass land. In summer time, when
covered by mass of golden grain,
the landscape was charming one,
but on that bleak October evening,
with low, heavy, black clouds driven
across the sullcn gray sky by moaning
fitful gusts of wind that chilled the
poor pedestrians TO the bone, 1t was
as cherries a prospect as one could
imagine.
Away, a long way down in the hol-
low Of the road. Il few houses could he
dimly seen, but they were at least two
miles from where they stood, while he
hind them 10 habitation was in sight.
They were tramps. The man was n
wrctcled looking object; the few mis-
cradle rags that hung about left OK
posed his chest and arms and knees;
his naked toes peeped through the
broken uppcrs of shoes that were held
on to the feet only by means of pieces
Of string; n heard Of fortnight's
growth rendered yet more repulsive
the corpse-like face with its hollow
cheeks and sunkcn eyes. yellow skin
over which the wind blew the long.
shaggy gray hair, surmountcd by IL
battered and almost crownless hat.
The boy like his father ives ragged,
shirtlcss. and also shoelcss. A shock
of red hair was the only covering of
his head; his face was tanned and
freckled by exposure to the atmos-
phere and had the wolfish look of hum
ger upon 1t. Had 1t been cleaned and
the hair arranged, some people would
have called 1t handsome, but 1t had a
sullen, evil expression. that, while 1t
might have fascinated would, Mt
the same time, have repealed. He
might have been about nine or ten
years of age.
The girl was not more than five. A
petticoat and thin cotton frock were
Ill the clothing that protected her from
the keen wind. A white, wan face,
blue with cold, and with patient
look upon it; and you have the third
and the last of the group.
The man sat down upon the heap of
stones the boy had pointed to. or ratll-
er dropped upon them. With n groan.
"Josh," lie said, family, II am dy-
lng!"
mot SO bad as that, father" said
The boy; but there was no sympathy
In his tone-it was hard and indiffcr-
ent.
But at those awful words the little
girl crept closer to him, with look of
fear in her eyes.
"Is there nowhere you can get any
help?" said the man, and his lips SEEM
ed scarcely capable of forming the
words.
"Who do you think would give us
help:" said the boy with a bitter sneer
that made him look positively diabol-
tcal. "There aint a casual ward near
er than Marlborough, nor a workhouse.
Perhaps YOU think they'd give you n
bed and some port wine at one of the
farm houses!"
"Let me Co." said the little girl.
el'll run down to the houses and beg
'em to come"
"Yes, little Lucy. CO." said Josh,
squatting down upon the stones beside
his father. "She'll get more pity than
I should; they'll be more likely to do
something for her. Cut off, Lu, and
be sharp about it. Give 'em plenty Of
sobs. and say he's the best father on
the face of the earth"
Before he had finished speaking the
poor little thing was trotting away in
the direction of the houses we have
before mentioned, and in n few min
ntes the tiny figure was but n mere
speck in the cleaning.
"What a hard young brute YOU are
to let that child co." groaned the dy-
IF I'm hard and a brute, It's you
that's taught me to be so," answered
the boy sullenly.
"Don't speak to me like that. 1 tell
you I'm dying" sobbed the man.
The boy made no reply; never even
looked UP, but began playing with the
stones.
"Josh," said the man, again raising
himself feebly upon his elbow. Il
know I've been harsh and cruel to
you, and that it is much by my fault
that am in this state now. But YOU
don't know what have gone through
how have been wronged, what has
made me. what I am. Josh, instead of
lying here, dying as am-as am
upon heap of stones on the roadside,
! ought to be riding in my carriage;
and you, instead of being homeless and
Bhoeless, and miserable vagabond,
ought to be at Harrow or Elton: but
for one man-one man, who robbed me
OF my birtlright-my stepbrother he
turned my fathers heart against me
with lies. l was disinherited, and he
got all that was mine; that was yours.
Josh, would you like to be reyenged
upon that man that made. you and me
beggars?"
The man told the story with many
gasps, but Quivered with excitement
that terminated for q moment the OK
piring flame of life.
Gradually the boys stolid apathy
had melted and he had fixed his sunk.
en- eyes upon the spectre.
AT the last question. lie clenched his
small fist and answered between his
clenched teeth:
II should like to kill him."
= "Ha, Ia! you're good boy. I've
got his name written down and where
he lives; you shall have it; some time
or other you may have q chance, you
may-you may"
He fumblcd among his rags, and
after q minute drew forth dirty
scrap Of paper, which the boy eagerly
clutched, then he fell back with a
faint groan and the boy stopped over
him thinking that all was over, but
the short, quick breathing told him
that his father still lived.
The cold, dreary night was fast
closing in, and the low sailing clouds
grew darker and darker; the distant
nplands mingled with the horizon, and
a dim grayness was yelling the whole
earth. Down in the hollow, whittier
the child had gone, light or two be
gan to twinkle.
Not a sound was to be heard save
the rustic of the wind rs it swept
over the stubble and through the
hedges. bringing with it the first OF
q sleety rain.
Reused out of lis apathy by the
story he had heard, the boy began to
realize the horror Of the situation. He
knew his father had been suffering
from low fever and an aguish cold
for many weeks, and that he had beer
growing weaker and weaker every
day.
Father, father" he whispered, in q
voice that trembled with fear, chow
do YOU feel?n