Semi-weekly independent. (Plymouth, Marshall County, Ind.) 1895-1897, 1896-03-07

And that night BGptiste went up TO
Mexican Joe's. They gave him drink
out of sheer terror. for he scared their
white souls with his eyes. And he
talked and muttered and the tears ran
1 down his face. Then one of the Next
cans. known as Pete. thought he had
softened and was chicken hearted. and
/ he began to fool with him. Just then
the round moon got up on the white
+ plateau and stared 1T the plain. which
was SO lonely save for the military
| post and the place where they sold
drink And as the lights began to
/ blink against the moonlight Pete be
/ gan TO laugh at Jean. Then Mexican
| Joe sent off TO the fort. and the guard
/ came out at the double, with Jack
+ among them. They were just in time
10 see murder done; for Jean caught
/ Pete and broke his black neck with his
hands. And back handed he struck
Mexican Joe in the mouth: he fell chok
| ing with teeth and his own knife cut
! him, and Jack came ia running But
Jean was insane and blazing. and when
! poor Jack took him by the arm he
/ looked red to Jean and the FreEchman
caught him by the waist and dashed the
boys brains out on the log wall Then
| the Corporal, who was white as dried
alkali lake. struck Jean on the neck
with the butt of Il gun and felled him.
But Jack and Pete were dead. They
had To carry Jean TO the guardhouSe
and it was da wn before he came to.
He knew nothing. and lie asked for
Jack Robertson. and he was SO down
pity him.
WHO shall tell him." they asked
| each other. and no one would.
But as Jack wouldn't come Jean be-
gan TO think. and Il dull. Supplying ter
ror came crawling into his mind. Was
it true, or bloody imagination of
dream? he asked himself. dry-tongued.
And presently he wept out aloud and
hung at the heavy door and shook il.
He asked them whether it was true-oh.
was it true?
Are you there, Winter" he asked
of one of the men.
Yes, yes, JEAN" said Winter, chok-
ing.
lis it true that-that / killed Jack,
Winter: If it is true. don't answer"
And Winter sat on one of the guards
beds with his face down. He never
spoke, and Jean groaned like a man
in his great agony.
lie neither ate nor drank nor spoke
again that day, and then the night drew
on, and the moon got up again, and she
looked down on two new moundS-One
was out at the back of Mexican Joe'S
and the other was in the little, white
rallied military cemetery where men
were buried who died of hanging ana
bullets and cut-throats when they were
tired of Uncle Sans outpost duty. But
Jean was locked up close in hell.
But at Mexican Joe's there was n
great gathering. and they drank 70
Jeans hanging and told of Black Pete's
exploits at thieving and the knife
for the news had gone abroad. and Joe
cOrrallcd the half dollars that night
until it was close on l.. Then there
was n change in their entertainments.
The devil entered i'll.
About II 30 there were only two meH
in the guardroom, and they were lying
on the benches dressed and asleep.
Jean was walking up and down his cell.
Once or twice he came to the door anC
felt it, Then he went back and meas
ured the distance from the wall 1t was
only nine feet. 1t was enough.
That long day had torn him in bits;
his eyes We're ringed with black cir
cles: his cheeks were sunken: he had a
gnawing pain at the back of his head.
He could stand it no longer He rushed
n the door with his shoulders and car
ried it into the middle of the guard
room. AS the men started to their feet
Jean seized Il carbine and Il belt of
cartridges and disappeared through the
open door leading to the main fort and
ran down the road TO Mexican Joe's.
He hadn't got time to go to Montreal.
The light in the shanty shone through
the windows and the door-the one
door. The Mexicans stood up against
there toOthless. He shot him dead
through the door as they turned. He
killed six as they stood or wavered.
two more as they dropped for shelter
or ran. Two more he struck down with
his rifle dubbed. And then. with two
bullets in him and a bOwie-knife in his
breast, he went slowly to the cemetery.
he was lying dead upon Jacks grave
London Graphic.