Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1895-11-14

he added: Come, lassie; come, rest
and promise me not to give way TO
such excitement again. You are not
strcIS and such moods are dangerous
TO YOU"
They rose and stood facing each
other before the dying fire.
"One thing" he said. SELLING bar
hands with a swift change of manner.
"one thing, Barbara. Have you ever
Deen sorry that you came with me-
that you trusted meg"
She looked at him w~onderingIy, but
with perfect love and truthfulness.
Never, jamie" she said; never for
one moment"
And whatever happens ne went
on drawing her closer; land what
ever happens you ere sure you never
will be sorry?"
Quite sure, jamie"
He kissed her again and again. until
she laughed at his lover-like yehe-
mence.
Amy n would suppose we were
about to be separated for years." she
said playfully.
He laughed too, but his face and
voice were seriCSs as he said firmly:
Nothing shall separate us but
death, lasste."
When Dixon left his house the next
morning 1t was still intensely cold. but
the wind had zone down and the
clumps of ~evergreens and shrubbery
on the lawn were motionless as if
painted there.
He stood a moment on the lower step
drawing on his mittens and nodding
at the child face smiling at him rom
the window, then started to go. But
at the first step his foot struck some
object which gave out n metallic
sound, and stopping quicly he raised
from the snow a small pistol. One
glance showed him that Ii was In per-
feet order and every barrel loaded.
He remained for some time, turning
this object over in his hand, his Meth
er lip drawn between his teeth. At
last he glanced toward the window.
Tine child was no longer there. but he
saw now, what had before escaped his
notice, that the snow beneath the
window was broken and troddeD BY q
mans footprints. With a smothered
exclamation. Dixon bent an instant
above these tracks, and then began
tracing them carefully. He found the
path leading from the group Of pines
TO the window. He found the place
where the steps had first approached
the house across the open fields from
the hill beyond, direct and even, as Of
one with a fixed purpose; he found,
also, where they had turned from the
window in long, regular strides, as Of
ono in FIGHT ThaSn hn fpIln"pl fn
the foot Of the hill and across to the
other side, where they seemed to lose
themselves In the trackless forest.
He stood here again for some mo.
ments, an ashy ring forming itself
about his ruddy lips, no longer ruddy.
Then, with a deep breath, he set his
teeth together, thrust the pistol into
his pocket and turned towards the
town. 1t was scarcely awake yet.
| Smoke curled lazily upward from the
chimneys, but hardly anyone was stir
ring. Even about the door Of that
great commercial emporium known
far and near as Buckeyes" the regu-
lar lOafers had as yet no representa-
tive; and here, as elsewhere, the snow
which had drifted across the steps
was undisturbed.
4 little beyond "Ruckey's" stood n
neat frame structure across whose en-
trance stretched q sign bearing the in
scription:
".Iames Dixon. Justice Of the Peace"
This building Dixon entered. A boy
who was steamfng himself at the
great stove In the center Of the room,
looked up with a duck Of the head az
the proprietor Of the office entered,
and paid 10 further attention as he
proceeded to divest himself of his out