Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1895-10-13
A STORY OF THREE 0 D MEN.
BY Thomas Frost.

certain night in the fall of the year,
a storm of unWonted violence was riot
ing in the Catskill Mountains. Inc
wind screamed as though in a dellrlum
of triumph. fling.ng with tlreless Jury
the cold rain over naughty peak anu
modest valley. The long, phant arms
; Of the leafless mountain willows lasned
the black night with impotent rage,
| and more than one craggy mass, zoos
ened from It's bond Of ages, tore It's
awful way that night through the up
land forest 10 the sOdded level beneath.
Even Mistress Doris, the merry,
plump little widow who supplied the
! customers Of the Old Leeds Arms with
"ales. wines, spirituous liquors, tobac-
| cos and snuff" even she was out or
sorts. for what, for the going out OF
| the lanterns and the coming in Of water
through the diamond panes Of the rick
ely lattice; what with the smoke that
seemed not 20 know the purpose of a
chimney and the coughing and grum-
bling of the shivering old man IN the
bar parlOr, her head and hands were
busy enough.
There was something uncanny about
this visitor. An absolute stranger, he
had entered N the height Of the storm,
his appearance indicating a long foot
journey, had given his bearskin coat
TO the potbOy, with an injunction 10
have il aired and laid on the bed in
thelit-le room over the tap" and with
out q question had gone direct TO the
parl0r He looked as ancient as the
nm itself, of which he evidently knew
every nook and corner.
Bring me d mug Of mulled ale,
mistress" he said, and, bark We, Hiram
Cock, the constable, is living still, aln't
he?"
Judge Hiram Cook is my father, ="
replied the widow; lit is many years
since he was constable. He took the
wagon to court This morning, and may
not trust the roads till daylight
To COURT repeated the stranger.
"Ah, understand; il VIII be choice gal
lows fruit-cho.ce gallOws fruit" and
me rubbed his shiny hands and blinked
his unna.urally brilliant eyes at a
live rate.
Z la gibbet is a depressing subject
al III times, but to have it linked in
an obscure fashion with ones parent
by grinning old stranger, at The ap-
proach % midnight. with the rain driv-
ing at the doors and windows as though
death sought admittance. and the tenn
perature moaning a dirge, defines per-
haps the limit Of endurance.
Mrs. Doris was evidently Of this opin-
ion, for forgetting all about the mulle1
ale, she dropped into the leather couch
and started al her shrivelled guest with
the blankness Of corpse.
yes" he laughed, pulling his skel-
etCn fingers until they cracked, six
" long years have l waited for what
tomorrow viii bring. THESE hills have
been less patient, for they, l warrant
have changed since last I trOd them
while have known no change-at least
herer' And ne laid his long fingers
over the spot where his heart should
have been. "To-morrow," he contin-
ued. this owl they call justice shall
wake. and he shall hear my curse as he
is dragged 10 the scaffOld!'
What crime is this" exclaimed the
hostess. spr,nging TO her feet in the
belief that she was confronting mad
man. that you dare 10 lay at my fatA-
er's dOOr?'
Nay. mistress, it is Of Reuben Ellis
ton I speak l asked if Hiram Cook
yet lived. for it is fitting tina, he who
tied The s.lken cord around tFe' muir
derer's neck should be one Of those
to take it from his corpse, Doubtless
the final arrangements have taken him
TO town"
"Old Reuben Ell:ston!'
"Ay." continued the stranger, rising
and looking intencly into the woman
ewes. Reuben Ellis,on. Even now l
passed the stone house and saw light
in the windows you dare not tell Inc ne
is dead"
Our ne.ghbOr has been near the
grave these many years, but death ana
he are strangers. Since my earliest
recollection he has lived a life Of seclu-
sion. but we grant TO age whai you
would link with crime"
Woman" cried the old man, fling
ing his hands above his head, did your
father never speak 20 you Of Mercy
Douglass, the Scotch girl, whose ser
vices as house mental were bought by
Squire Elhs.On from the owners Of the
Glasgow packet for the price OF her
passage2 Who ran from his house and
h:s proffered love, was retaken, tied TO
the scOundrels horse and dragged 10
death among the rocks on this very
road?"
The question seemed to revive a host
of hurled memories. Mrs. Doris re-
membered that as a child she had Is
rened with terror 10 the story of MURDER
Notch: had seen the identical rock on
which the ghost of a beautiful victim
was said TO sit at midnight two burning
! tapers in her hads. and sing of her
sad fate. She recalled how Tom Doris
rest his soul-long before he had
dreamed of becoming her husband, had
told her of the spectral horse which
time and again was seen TO dash up the.
road as the village clocks struck II,
| dragging a. his heels the form of a
| lovely woman.
"Ha, your memory is Quickened, mis-
! tressr' said the old man, who had mar
rOwly watched her face.
There was such story when I was
very young" she replied, "but l never
heard it coupled with the name of
! Reuben Elliston. The great war has
driven out many a legend, master.
! Old Reuben helped the cause with all
he had: he is poor, and nearly blind
now. and folks with evil tongues should
! spare their breath
The strangers eyes glittered with
| anger N this reDrOOf I feared il
would be kept from this generation"
he cried. Listen, Mercy was TO be
my bride; because she would not break
her vows he killed her N his jealous
] Dri1a She lies buried on his farm He