New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1896-04-19


In the least; and he always listened as II he
could bear II because he was resolved to bear It,
Two or three times after had sung to him he
remarked "Well, Miss Armstrong. that was not
as execrable as 1t might have been" But he
took no end OF pains with me.
Do you ask what had become OF Vane Hill
dreth In these months? did not know. I used
to wonder, when had time. where he was. and
how he was Bathsheba. from New-Oreans or
Mobile or other city. would sometimes
send me square envelope with a square card
within. on which would be scrawled few lines
Jolly time here-house packed-Aunt Nora In
splendid feather-and even poor had an enor-
nous bouquet Guess l didn't fiat much. Mr.
Maverick is perfectly magnificent to sing with
he Just carries one right along. Hope you
gay. Ta-ta BASHY."
But Bashy never wrote Of her brother. 1t
as II she had forgotten him. STILL she wrote me
such scraps Of notes that 1t was not strange that
she did not mention him.
1t was bitter cold day In January that
was hurrying along the lonesome road to the
postofce. The snow creaked beneath my feet.
But was warm. The sky wac gray-one smooth
gray out of which more snow would surely
come.
BE sure and get back before 1t storms" Mrs
With rubber boots a thick Jacket and a fur
cap cares little whether 1t storms not.
had just reached the railroad when the mail
train from New-York came sliding almost
noiselessly along the track
I paused for 1t to stop at the bit Of station
and go on. 1t barely paused. then started Off
l ran across the track and into the building to
wait until the mail was assorted 1t would not
be many minutes, for very few letters came
here.
I noticed one passenger-only one. He was
tall with slight stoop In the shoulders,
closely cropped gray hair and a closely shaven
face Perhaps l noticed him more particularly
because though the air biting cold. he
wore overcoat. Having seen this. further
saw that his clothes brown In color. looked
quaint and somewhat oldfashioned as II they
were suit that had been long laid aside and
now taken out and donned.
All this I passed by him into the station.
Then l forgot him In watching the postmaster
take out the letters.
There nothing for me; no. absolutely
nothing. though this was Tuesday. and had
expected to hear from mother. When I went
out the tall man was standing by the red-hot
cylinder stove, his hands spread over 1t.
I FASTENED on up the slight ACTIVITY from the
| track, the sharp wind in my face and cutting
like knife. The mile to traverse looked
rather long to me now. turned up my jacket
| collar and bent my head. I wished mother had
written. Surely. II she were Ill, Aunt Lowry
would send me word.
| l hurried: ! thought Of the warm room that
| awaited me- Half Of the distance was traversed
when felt an imperative wish to look behind
me. Not that heard anything. The wind car
ried all sound from behind further away.
| turned and was startled to see few rods In
| the rear, the man who had just alighted from
| the mail train His tall. emaciated figure looked
| taller and longer against the snow. His Shout
| ders were drawn together In a ritiabe manner
| his narrow velvet coat collar was pulled high
| as possible.
I did not llnger to gaze. 1t was an absolutely
| solitary road for the most part-acres Of market
| gardens lined the way, but there We're few
houses, and those were set In back some dis
lance. / was not easily alarmed: had never
dreamed Of anything TO alarm me In my walks
though Mrs Ridge sometimes said that she did
not like TO be so near New-York and yet In the
country; she prophes!ed that some dreadful
creatures would eventually stray out our way.
Perhaps this one Of them. glanced back
| again. Indeed | was now bewitched TO look
back The man was always coming on in Just
| that way. He did not appear to see me. although
| OF course he did me. And l soon began TO
| fancy that he was gaining on me. Yes. he was
| gaining. I hurried faster than before. glanced
behind he was lhurrying faster. too. and etill he
| did not appear TO see me. At this I slackened
my pace. I felt that II would be better to let
him overtake me than 20 go on like this. And
l was rather ashamed at my lack OF courage.
| Why should be afraid? This man looked for
lorn, but not wicked. That is. his forlornness
was certainly his most visible attribute Just
| now
I will confess that my heart was beating up In
my throat as heard the snow creak nearer and
nearer. In another moment the stranger had
ranged up alongside and was lingering his hat
brim with his blue bare fingers.
II hope you'll pardon me, miss" he said. husk-
lily, as II the cold took away his voice. but tho
man down at the station told me that II fol-
lowed you should find the place I'm after"
Having fingered his hat brim by way Of re-
spect he hurriedy thrust his hand back into
his trousers pocket.
"where are you going?" asked. He really
did not look like person to be afraid Of. He
was walking by me now. save that he kept re.
specially somewhat behind.
I'm looking for the old Holloway farmhouse "
he answered
THE Holloway house?" exclaimed.
yes"
He came up alongside again and gazed at me
out Of red-rimmed, faded eyes OF green gray
color. They did not seem to be bad eyes though
there was something a little peculiar abou,
them. almost IL they yelled in some
way.
He dropped back. saying as he did so:
i've been there before; but this railway
wasn't here then. 50 was kind Of turned round
in my mind. didn't come to 1t from here Il
was all woods here; was young man. then
yes. young man."
We went on in silence for some time. TIL,
: place where ! was living was called the ole
Holloway house. from the name Of the famil,
who had put UP the building. 1 immediatel,