The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1895-09-13
sE ST K3HI'!!KE IS |y llj|E!'2'E'l K OVER OVER
~ J
| ~oT@TcoPYRieHT 1892 BY RAND. neNALLY d co.
VIRGINIA w. JOHNSON
By RAND. A d co.

ralment, a bed, a Chair, tOrmented by
dread of rats and mice, mildew and
storms? Blindly, foolishly he had
chosen the hard, bright coin, indie.
structible to mischevious agents OF
harm the teeth of rodents. and rain.
The Sicilian dollar had played him
false. He saw it all now that such
knowledge came too late,
He lived in a sort of delirium. He
scoffed at the impending catastrophe.
He need not act with undue precipita-
ton. There was still time for reflection
and to rearrange his disordered ideas.
He keptreassuring himselfin this fash
ion. Night and day became as one to
him. If he slept or partook of such
food as was to be found in the house,
the need Of nature was mechanically
fulfilled. He did not miss his grand
daughter. He had forgotten her and a
fever of unrest consumed him. Con-
tending passions tore his breast, now
urging him to desperate, frantic action,
and again withholding him in a dull,
passive resignation.
Suddenly the note of a church bell
reached his ear.
lie paused in his aimless rambling
about house and garden. INDUCING in
htful so%liloquies, and listened. The
bell marked the passing hour. He
was startled, shocked, appalled,. Time
was ebbing rapidly. like the sand in
the glass. His distorted fancy thus in
terpreted the warning of the clock.
Would he be too late?
He stood as if frozen with horror,
his white hair bristling on his head,
his eye dilated and fixed. A voice
shrieked these words:
Il am rich, rich. My treasure lies
buried here all about me. Help me
to unearth it before it is too late!'
Who had spoken? He could not de-
termine whether his own lips had
moved, or he heard an echo of his
thoughts at his side. He was no longer
alone. Mocking faces jibed at him,
haunting his helplessness. his tardy
recognition of the impending evil.
Then a beautiful shape. clothed in
shining radiance, put aside the others,
only to prove the more maddening in
turn. This airy form was the Sicilian
dollar. Now it CLEANED on the ground,
and again it fitted up to the parapet
of the Watch Tower The coin spun
here, there, on all sides, eluding, daz-
cling, intangible.
Jacob Dealtry, aroused to frenzy
haste, after long delay, began to seek
in the crevices of his dwelling, be-
neath the fountain basin, behind the
beehlves, at the angle of the garden
wall
If he paused to rest, his feeble
strength exhausted, the Sicilian dol
lar flashed before his troubled vision.
scotin@ at his fo~rgetfulness of still
another hiding-place, and goading
him to fresh eXertions. .
Shrill laughter and odd cries were
audible occasionally in the enclosure.
Jacob Dealtry had lost his reason.
A vessel approached Malta, the
Elettrico from Messina.
Among the passengers on board were
Lieut.. Curzon and his wife. His brief
leave of absence had nearly expired,
and he was about to rejoin his ship.
Dolores, beaming with happiness, and
her savage grace already refined by
travel, still held Florio under one arm.
Malta gave slight heed to these new
arrivals in the more profound emo
lions of the hour. Malta, whether of
high or of low degree. was bringing
the S1alIior 6N11o. fn tho G r !, ,t
at the appointed time. The coin ar
lived in bag, purse, Golfer, and ven
transported in rude boxes on primi-
tive vehicles, the owners sadly crest
fallen and anxious as to results.
The fact was clearly proved that
the stronghold of the Knights Templar
was the richest island of similar di-
mansions in the world.
The recluse of the Watch Tower was
not the only victim of the FRANKS of
the Sicilian dollar on this occasion.
Disbursement of boards long con-
cealed sowed discomfort, envy, and
suspicion on. every side. Creditors
frowned on debtors, proved to have
full pockets. Masters eyed thrifty
servants askance.
The Busatti couple met on their
own threshold with mutual confusion
and anger.
"Thou!.' exclaimed the husband, in
accents of unfeigned establishment,
hugging a much worn, leather pouch
under his arm.
"ThouT' echoed the wife, in even
sharper tones, and clutching a heavy
sack of coarse linen.
Eth! What would you have, my
soul? A man must make q little pro-
vision for age when his children may
find him a burden" said the husband,
alphabetically.
Il have daughters to marry" said
the wife tartly. May the Madonna
help me to save a soldo for some
to be sung for the repose Of
my soul when l die!"
Even DR.. Busatti emerged from the
house counting some pieces of money
his left palm.
And Dolores? Her face clouded as
she once more climbed the steps of
Valletta. Remorse and apprehension
to weigh on her heart In vain
she sought for the small and bent
form of her grandfather in the crowd.