The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1895-11-06
said Ruth.

The wind began to rise, and the blue
gray clouds settled down, darkly obscur-
ing the sun, which had made the day
seem SO fair. The children shiyered IN
unison with the change and quickened
their pace.
At O'Clock that afternoon the two
little girls stood appalled, at the Blue
creek crossing. The brook had swollen
more and was now raging torrent.
The place SPAWNED by the bridge was
the narrowest, and the narrow planks,
with the frail side ratings held to each
bank as if by thread.
"See, Mabel, we must hurry" said
Ruth, cor our bridge will be gone
Take my hand, and We'll run across
quick"
"I'm awful 'fraid, said the child,
with quivering lips.
"Well, I'll go first, )" said her sister
enoouragingly, land you'll see how
easy it'll be. Now, then, one-two--
threep and clasping hands the two lit
tie girls started to run across the reel
ing bridge. Perhaps it was thoir weight,
perhaps it was at that very moment the
fastenings were ready to give way, but
certain 1t WAS that when they reaebed
the middle Of the bridge it snapped its
connections at each side, and with light
ming velocity shot down the stream, the
little ones clinging to each other and
the hand rail.
The frightful speed at which they
were going, together with the awful
roar Of the water and the suddenness
with which the whole thing came
about, gave the children no chance to
feel the extreme terror that their hazard
GUS position would naturally have In
spired. They had only one thought,
only one instructive feeling, and that
was to cling with a death grip to the
bridge and each other 1t was reserved
for spectator to the scene, who arrived
Of the whole transaction just as il &C.
Cured, to experience the full agony Of
their terrible situation. This was their
father, Ambrose Winchester.
Like one gone mad, he ran desperate
ly along the bank after the small bark,
his eyes fixed Oh the two little swaying
figures, dark brown and flaxen curls
mingling as they were tossed by the
wind, until small patch of woodland
cut off his view. Still he ran, muttering
cries, prayers, until his breath gave out
and his gasping throat could only give
vent to something like sobs.
When he passed tho little patch of
woodland, he saw the bridge had stop
ped, caught by the branches of tree
fallen across the stream. But tho bridge
itself was ready to fall to pieces now.
The rail to which the children hung
was swaying and bending and threaten
ing every moment TO part company with
the rest of the structure At that mo-
meDt figure plunged boldly into the
torrent with long board i'll his arms,
and before the Keeling, hreathless father
could gain tho spot had taken both chill
dren on TO the board and was struggling
toward the shore. Mr.. Winchester was
just in time to catch his dripping chill
drep as they came to land, and rs his
eyes fell on their deliyerer he saw 1t
was Hutton.
"Here, put the children into my
buggy and wrap them i'll the robe, 4" he
gasped. Then, following them, he drove
off at breakneck speed without back
ward glance.
Mrs Winchester came to the door
with an inquiring look. When Mr.. Hut
ton lifted i'll his arms the half mani.
mate forms Of her children and handed
them to her, one by one, she grew ashy
pale
"Oh, what--what, shocried sharply,
"what has happenod?'
Mr.. Hutton explained briefly as 10
followed her lead, carrying the Oldest
child while she conveyed the other.
"And you--you are wet, she ex-
claimed, stealing glance from her
darlings to notice his condition.
"Never mind me-" He turned to go.
"Oh, don't go yet. said Mrs. Win
chester appealingly. "My husband will
be home soon, and want You to sec
him. can't thank you; words arc SO
weak. "
Z "No thanks are necessary, said Hut
ton coolly. "And, as for Your good hus-
band, I've just parted company with
him.
With that he strobe from the room,
and wrapping himself in his warm robe
drove home.
The next morning Hutton stood at
his gate, his hands in his pockets, evil
IDENTIFY in brown study. lie was ponder
ing ON what move he would make next
in this puzzling game Of life, now that
his home was to be snatched from him.
He wore logged look, which by no
means softened as he observed Mr.. Win
chester driving up. The latter stopped
before the gate, and an observer would
have noted that tho men seemed to have
changed positions. Hutton nodded cool
ly, without changing his attitude or ex-