The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1896-09-23
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CHAPTER z.
DEAD OR ALIvE2

SI1a1 AGn ~
DEAD OR ALIvE7
Ghostly fell the snow!
Like a curtain, q shroud, 1t had closed
about the devoted form Of Edna Deane
that wild, tempestuous night, when the
Door child OF destiny had sunk ex'
hausted and despairing at the very
threshold OF safety.
The siren-hearted Beatrice mercer
had sped to sunshine, luxury and goia,
with no thought Of the real tate OF tne
giH whose name she had assumeo,
whose loyal lover she had Determined "
win.
More merciful than she, the soft snow
had drifted gently over the lEanlmate
vs6nderer. striving to shut out from the
Keor OF storm and tempest the frait
= form that had succumbed to the chill OF
winter like tender lily.
= Upon that same eventful night another
figure braved the storm, and, breast1ng
its fierceness, took his way alokg the
same road, down which Edna, rDeane'e g
dumb guide had so nearly led her to
shelter. ~ --a' '.e"'
"a night to set housed. I pity the
homeless or belaJed!" hreathed hearty,
putting John Blake, as he struggled
through the deep drifts. .Ah! nearly
home. There's the dear old wife wait
ing to. welcome me with a warm sup
per, I'll warrant"
Farmer John neared the unpreten
tious cottage that resembled Lapland-
ier's hut, with its caves hung deep with
snow festoons. A doleful neigh from
the wagon shed aroused his humane
heart, however, to turn from his path
lie found there the exhausted animal
that had led Edna hither, bestowed the
wandering brute in its stall, and started
again for the house.
"Ho, there, my dear!" sang out the
bluff, great-hearted old fellow, as he
made up huge SNOWFALL and sent it siz
feet away dashing against the door oi
the cottage.
1t opened. An eager, motherly face
showed in the lamplight.
Dear, dear! Is it you, John2 I've
ibeen so worried. Always boy, throw
ling snowballs and singing out like pi.
rate. Will you never mend?"
Never while this jolly snow reminds
me Of our schoolday sleighrides, and
your pretty, blooming face, you dear old
grill" retorted happy John. Come,
throw me broom to beat a path, 80 I
won't be dragging the snow all over that
lrag carpet you think more OF than you
do OF me"
Been lonesome?" sang out John, In
ldustriously sweeping path to the door:
\ Terrible! Did you just come, John!
Did just come? You wager haven
\een promenading around for fun, Wild
ow chuck two feet down my neck, and
nice warm supper on the tablet
Because thought heard some one
out bit ago."
6geons, maybe"
It wss human cry for help.
law! Fancies. The wind toots
engine whistle to-night-lawsy
John uttered a sharp cry
recoiled. The broom fell
md, and there he stood star
H. down at the ground at his
"WN John?" calculated his
-Some|l Yin tn path. Bag Of oats
"a sheep Jane. look!"
He had pd over to examine the
object at b It.
His great Ifal eyes glowed like
two stars.
Into view he had dragged a human
hand, limp and nerveless.
A soggy dress-sleeve followed ano
then terrible cF rang from his wife:
hips.
Out into the snow she dashed. Dow1
beside the inanimate form, disenshroud
cd from it's snowy mound, she knelt.
John. john" she walled, peering in
to the white. cold face Of the insensible
Edna Deane-"it's woman-a young
girl. Oh, John! look at the bonny face,
and the quick tears rained down in wild,
motherly pity. oh, John! dead or alive
which,"