Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1896-05-28
A FRUSTRATED SCOOP.
BY ERNEST sHRIvEs.

the suns rays beat down with melting
intensity upon the limestone pike that
served Tannington for aprincipal street.
The air was close and sultry, and the
only respite to suffering humanity came
in the shape of an occasional pine-laden
breeze that stole down from the tall
sentinel mountains beneath which the
tiny town nestled.
Not that there was much humanity
around to suffer, for though it was
mid-week, the big, boisterous engines
in the tannery on the hill were silent,
and the canning factory's gates were
closed. Even the village store was de-
serted by all save solitary clerk, who
hadn't made sale since early morning
There was u granger picnic over dt
Slawson's Corners, and most of the pop
ulation were attending it.
Carrie Lumsden, summer boarder
from the neighboring city CT Jones'
vile, was one of the few stayat-homes.
Having firmly resisted the pressing in
vitation of her hostess, Mrs. Johnson,
to make one of the family party, she was
now ::ozing in hammock on Farmer
Johpson's piazza.
The young woman had come down
from Jopesville about three weeks be-
fore on an absolute quiet" prescrip-
ton. The doctor, in enjoining her to
get away from everything" had par
ticularly specified newspapers, for it
was over-Zeal in the service of one of
Jonesville's morning journals that was
il,lp fn,, Mice | 1.,,Gfanfc hrpnis-
down. One of the most rapid and ef-
fective workers on the Phonograph staff,
she had, for two years, supported her
self and her invalid mother, working
early and late, without a thought of rest
or the slightest attention to the repeat
ed warnings of her overtaXed nerves.
Finally these became so pointed and
peremptory as to be no longer Gisre-
garded. Pure air, simple food, and per-
feet rest had wrought wonders. The
girl slept like top, and her eye was as
bright and her step as springy as ever.
She felt equal to producing any amount
of copy" and was thinking of return
ing to work again ere she became lazy.
She made a pretty picture as she lay
there, trying to settle whether to get
fully awake and resume her book, or
yield to the prevailing drowsiness and
fall sound asleep. She was saved the
trouble OF decision by the sudden APP
pcarance of old Quarles, the johnson
of-all-work, who rushed into the
yard, well blown by the unwonted cXer-
ton of moving slightly faster than a
walk, and crying in his strident tones:
"Oh, Miss Carrie, suthn' dreadful's
happenedl Old Steve Arnold down to
the toll gates killed Miss Arnold with
the AK an hung hisself. Gus Robbins
jess found 'em. He's overt the store.
What kin we do? Squire Jackson's at
the picnic, an there amt nobody TO
take no action"
Instantly the hitherto languid young
woman was all activity and interest.
She was out of the hammock and down
the steps in a jify. Here was an OPP
portunity to atone for u month of idle
ness.
"Well, that's terrible, isn't it? l
suppose there's nothing to do, though,
Quarles, but wait till the Squire comes
back. Then he'll hold an inquest.
There'll be plenty of time for that"
The newspaper girl scented Il possi-
bic SCOOP" and didn't wish the matter
stirred up too much.
She tossed on her sailor" and accom-
panied the old man over to tho store,
where Robbins, lank, yellow-haired,
and exceedingly shy young man, was
telling his story for the sixth time. He
was considerably embarrassed when the
tall, graceful, bright-cyed girl appeared
and made him give his vivid recital all
over again. 1t was much shorter this
time, though, for she skillfully but
charmingly headed off all Pathological
and superiluous statement. In five min
utes she had him pumped dry, and then,
pilcted by the young man and old
Quarles, Miss Lumsdcn started on foot
for the scene of the tragedy, about Il
mile distant, filed with ardor, but not
without modicum of feminine repug
nance to the gruesomeness of the mat
ter in hand. Doing murderers and sui
cides had not been her line, but she
shranll from nothing that fate threw IN
the path of duty.
lbN l1tiSb oi-N " NiONh Sllt iltlNl lltl
story finished, and then, for the first
time, began to consider how she was 60
ing to get her matter to the Photograph
Office. Thirty-tive miles of Indifferent
road and two big mountains lay be-
tween Tannington and Jonesville.
There was no telegraph or telephone,
and the mail carrier, on his picturesque
gray mare, had left on his daily trip
hours before. All of Farmer Johnson's
horses were at the picnic.
The perpIeXed journalist consulted
with Quurlcs ard sent him out to re-
connoiter. He returned with the cheer
full news that the only horses in the vii
lage were Crosby's old gray, that
couldn't make the journey in week,
and Turner's colt, that nobody could
ride or drive. Slawson's was Is miles
away, and the earliest picnicker was
not to be looked for before ten o'clock.
All, Ia, I,