Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1896-02-27

-M.- -
THE UNHAPPY RIDER WAS PITCHED.
at last, have I? Yah! you white-liv-
cred cur, you treacherous rogue, that
hasn't even pluck to be honest with
brother thieves"
81 can explain"
"Of course you can. Words run slick
enough from your oily tongue"
81 meant no harm, Jacob-at least
none to you"
''Oh, no; Of course you didn't. You
acted all along for my good, like a
guardian angel, didn't yer? But you
an I've got an account to settle. When
lay on that bed of sickness in Lon
don you wor1ned my secret about the
girl out of me an then you skipped
across the herring-pond to take adva2-
tage of it. 1 knew where you'd gone
the moment missed you, an, as soon
as the cursed fever left me, pulled up
sticks an followed yer"
He paused for a reply. None came.
LET me-" he said mockingly, "Mr.
johnson, Thompson, Robinson, Hobbs
or Dodd, or whichever of your aliases
you are sailing under, Tony Savage,
ask what you are doing in this out-of-
the-way region, so far from the pleas
ant slums of White Chapel?"
But an inspiration had flashed across
Dodd's fertile brain. When, during
ance alluded, he had tended Gregson
through sharp attack Of delirum ire
mems. he had caught some of the wild
words of the poor wretch's delirium and
stored them in his memory for future
use, feeling pretty sure the sick mans
phantasies were based on actual events
anyhow, his own case was desperate,
and he would fire shot with the chance
Of hitting mark.
SIS your life blameless, Jacob Greg
son?" he asked. "Man, have you for
gotten the rotten bridge of Newton
lock? Do you never hear the screams
of the poor girl You flung into the dark
waters? Do you never"
''Hold!" cried Gregson, quivering
with terror. in mercy hold. I can
not bear it. You will drive me mad.r
''Ah!" Dodd gave sigh of intense
satisfaction. 81 think this little bit of
an exchange of confidence will cement
our friendship. We have both past
to conceal. So, like wise men, we will
help each other. Is it so, my friend?"
''But you will not come between me
and the girl?" lGregson asked, with
white lips.
''Not I. That games been played
out between her and me, and she won
hands down. No. 1 only want to stay
in the place long enough to mature a
few little mining speculations-inno-
cent little schemes which may pan out
pretty profitable"
That's no business of mine," Greg.
son said, generously. ''You may swim
die the whole blooming population for
what I care. So let's shake hands an
start fair"
with pleasure"
land what lay are you on now, Tony?'
site minister; Do you twig, Jake?"
''Tony, you are a clipper!" Mr.. Greg
son rejoined enthusiastically. Glow
ever did you pick up parsons palter?"
''In jail. It was the only useful thing
I ever learned from the chaplain's min
istrations.
Thus in pleasant converse they
reached Oretown.
The party was grand success. Mr..
Gregson shone as a bright particular
star, rendering with good deal OF
natural talent music hall melodies,
which were new to his listeners The
the corporal roared 1.-THE British Gren-
adiers," and even the hostess quavered
through an endless ballad which only
loss of breath brought to a conclusion
at last.
But bark! The sharp, metallic clang
of a church bell rang out in the night
air.
The whole company was alert in a
moment, the men rushing out of doors
bare headed, gazing anxiously into the
city of OretOwn.
Something very unusual was astir.
Lights fitted to and fro, and the hum
of many voices could.be distinctly heard
Its not fire." the corporal said;
there's no glow in the sky"
Still the bell went on with its i'm
patient cry for help-clang. clang!
clang! Weakening the echoes of the dis
tant hills.
There's some men coming up the
Steep" said one. They're going to
Murphy's."
After his bloodhounds, shouldn't
wonder" hazarded another.
The deep, ferocious baying of the
hounds was now added to the confusion
of the night.
''Jack was right" said the corporal.
They've fetched the dogs"
what is it?" cried dozen voices as
man ran up at racing speed.
''Child's lost-out in the North wooss
get your hats, boys, quick"
'.God help the poor mother!- sighed
the corporal softly, for he knew what
being lost in that wild region meant.
s.Whose is it?"
s.JAcK WILDERs' LITTLE BoY.n