Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1896-10-29

My jaw oAOPpOu uhu BaDou ~ wv
in utter stupefaction. To my mind tho
proposed assault would almost 10
equivalent to murder, for I was not
wantonly mischievOuH. and Mr.. Wynd-
ham was the man l loved next 10 my
father. Besides, waI not able TO asSo-'
ciate him in my mind with tae idea Of
indignity, and 80 had The grace to
reject Joe's offer, but Aot 80 firmly or
so scornfully as ought, perhaps.
Joe evidently had in him the ale-
ments of the politician, as he afterward
showed; he bided his time, yet failed
not to keep his project before me, by
taking out, as often as he met me, the
coveted treasures from his pocket and
tantalizing me with brief glimpses OF
what might be mine.
He who hesitates is lost, and l fell.
AS time passed my refusals became less
vehement, and at last / found myself
thinking that l would be willing to
bear any punishment that Mr.. Wynd-
ham might lnhict, II he left me with
my life and the marbles. Since that
hour I have been able to comprehend
the love of savages for trinkets, and
their sacrifices to obtain them.
In the longest, hottest days Mr..
Wyndham often sat in the doorway,
on the side of the schoolroom that
CHANGED to be the cooler AS Joe and
came up from the spring he was rest
Ing his head YEARLY against the door
frame, while the children dropped over
their books; 1t was q village school,
and thirty years ago-things have
changed since then.
"Now for It," Joe whispered. "Plunk
him quick" and his hand slipped into
his pocket.
I tiptoed to where my popgun lay In
a crack in the wall and took good aim.
"Zipw went the little berry straight to
its mark.
Then more things happened than I
had foreseen, but not the expected. The
impact Of a well-thrown berry on a
nerve-centre Is calculated to smart
worse and to startle one more than the
uninitiated might suppose. Besides,
the country was passing through law
less stage of reconstruction, and unpro-
vOked crimes were not uncommon. Mr..
Wyndham jumped up, startled by
thoughts of cowardly attack from no
knew not whom, and, Infatuated by the
pain of my singing little missile, he
lost his balance and fell heavily on a
jagged corner Of the doorstep, where he
lay so long that the incipient litter
from the school room wound up In a
cry Of terror.
Blood streamed from a cut in his
cheek; was sure that had killed him.
With all an assassin's instincts for
escape, l turned and fed. BY and by,
as crouched in a thicket, conscience
stricken and too miserable for tears,
I heard my name called In the voice
that l always instinctlvely obeyed. Mr..
Wyndham was not dead!
When I crept out, visions of shame
and punishment rose before me, but /
cared not what might comes.now that
my friend had not persisted at my hand.
In the silence of the deserted school
room I poured out the whole story.
Perhaps Mr.. Wyndham remembered
some childish treasure that he had
craved and failed to get, or it may be
that he himself played pranks with the
popgun berry; anyway, went home
comforted.
Joe was closeted with Mr.. Wyndham
a long while the next day. I believe
he played the "joke act" and pretended
to have intended no harm; neverthe-
less, he was severely reprimanded. He
was utterly crushed when Mr.. Wynd-
ham made him turn the marbles over to
me, from which 1t was evident that he
had not intended to keep his contract.
He might have kept them and welcome,
for they had lost their attractiveness
for me-