The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1896-09-16
A GHOST IN THE CAB.

were deserted, and it was time to go
home. So thought cabby No. II, shiver-
ing in his rusty overcoat. He had watch
ed the electric light on the corner until
it's ring Of rainbow needles seemed to
stab his eyes and the big shadows on the
street below it to shake with the cold
"Not o fare this whole blasted night"
he muttered, reaching down and pulling
the blanket from his horse.
AS he did so he felt the carriage give
great jar on its springs. He turned
quickly; some one had flung himself in
to the seat behind him.
"What do you want?" said the cabby
roughly.
There was 3 pause, then voice came
through the darkness, thick and nasty
as gurgle Of black oil:
"Drive me to Judas Withers', and, in
the name of heaven, drive fast!"
tJudas Withers has been dead and his
soul with the devil this many a year, "
answered the cabman, staring behind
him.
''The house still stands, but have
lost my way. Go on, you foolr'
The figure reached over, and catching
the whip from its place gave the horse
q LASH. The old beast plunged forward,
banging and rattlilag down the street,
while the cursing cabman tried to clutch
at the reins, but q hand, chilly and
clinging as the belly of q snake, fasten-
ed on his wrist, and the thick voice
came close to his ear:
"Now will you show me my way?"
The driver sank into his place again,
while the old cab rocked like ship.
On they rushed, past closed stores and
lampless blocks OF houses, now ripping
and wrenching across the car tracks and
now swinging along the deserted road,
on and on, until the pavements had been
left behind and the frost looked back
from the ruts like million little green
eyes
At last came the command, "Stcp, I
see it nowp' and the next instant the
cab was empty:
"My fare!" yelled the cabman, leap
ing down.
There was no answer. He locked
about him. It was very dark where he
stood, but the waning moon, with its
gnawed and crumbled edges, hung ON a
line with the fir tops. Before him rose a
vague blackness, the house Of Judas
Withers, tenantless but for the old wife,
who still chung like some pale lichea to
its moldering stones Perhaps she, too,
was dead The cabby did not know. he
did know, though, that Judas Withers
had been a misery carcass, grudging
the very skin that hung his bones to-
gether.
The house stood back from the road
and was surrounded by garden, now
lying gray and lonesome under the
moon. As the cabby peered toward it he
saw the figure Of a man come into the
moonshine. It sprang across the open
space in soft leaps like great black
bubble, its every movement full of a
dreadful vitality. Then itwas gone. AS
the driver himself turned to go, he saw
q tiny red spark fash out from the
house before him, andvone after the 9TH
er the windows on the lower floor
glowed red, as a crawling blotch Of
sparkles will eat across SCOT.
The man was there-the man who
owed him money-and all fear fed but
the fear Of loss. The cabby tied his
horse and went creeping up the path
under cover Of the hedges. When he
reached the house, he raised himself
gently and looked in at one Of the win
dows. Before him lay an empty room.
On the floor, thrown from window
opposite, was great checkered flag of
Notwithstanding more, nothing but
those blue squares in the darkness.
Suddenly the cabman ducked his
head, for he saw that man had glided
into the room. He carried candle high
above his head, and his great pale face
was bloated and loose as curd
The cabman crouched low. A gust of
wind set the fir trees whispering, and o
shutter slammed far away in the house.
"Guess I'll get out Of this" he mutt
tered, rising. But he did not go, for the
figure that stood in the candlelight had
turned its back to the window and was
digging among the bricks, ripping and
scratching like a leopard, while his long
shadow clawed on the ceiling above
him.
"Thiefl" said the cabman, between
his teeth, pressing his ear to the broken
panes. "There is treasure hidden there
perhaps gold, perhaps" just then
the man inside gave joyful grunt.
He lifted an iron box from the hole
he had been digging. There was no key
In the lock, but at his touch the cover
few open, and out poured the contents
blue, green and gold, like glitterinS
rush of water broken beneath the sun.
The cabby's heart stopped beating.
"Diamon1sl" he cried softly. Then he
grasped at the window ledge, for the
creature gave howl of anguish.
"Good God, they give no light"
And the echoes chartered back, "No
light! No light!'
There was long silence. The huddle
on the floor rocked to and fro, his face
buried in his thin hands.
The moon had sunk and the sky was
clear as dark glass A cock crowed
somewhere in the east. At that sound
the wretched figure raised its head. OPP
posite him was door with Il fan shaped
transom over it, and az he looked it
grew gray and then rosy. Some one was
coming; now even the cabman could
hear the light creak Of steps Nearer
they came, nearer. The door opened,
and little figure peeped into the room
the little figure Of woman, shrlVeled
and very old
The man by the fireplace sprang up
AS the woman's eyes met that ghastly
face she gave a cry. "Judas!" she
screamed, "Judasl' Then she tottered
and slid in heap at his feet. He kicked
at her, but she only lay there, gibber-
ing: "What do you want? What do you
want?'
At last he answered her.
"It was black: it choked met was
30 dark-oh, so dark! have come back
for the light they promised me. They
,,;d r eho,,1d Gpd r. hare. that without I