The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1896-07-04
A FRUSTRATED SCOOP.
BY ERNEST SERVES.

the suns rays beat down with melting
intensity upon the limestone pike tina
served Harrington for aprincipal street
The air was close and sultry, and The
only respite TO suffering humanity came
in the shape of an occasional pine-lader
breeze that stole down from the tai
sentinel mountains beneath which the
tiny town nestled.
Not that there was much humanity
around to suffer, for though it was
mid-weelx, the big, boisterous engines
in the tannery on the hill were silent
and the canning factory's gates were
closed. Even the village store was de-
serted by all save a solitary clerk, who
hadn't made sale since early morning.
There was a granger picnic over at
Slawson's Corners, and most of the pop
ulation were attending it.
Carrie Lumsden, a summer boarder
from the neighboring city of Jones'
vile, was one of the few stay-at-homes.
Having firmly resisted the pressing in
vitation of her hostess, Mrs. johnson,
to make one of the family party, she was
now doing In hammock ON Farmer
Johnson's piazza.
The young woman had come down
from Jonesville about three weeks be-
fore on an absolute quiet prescrip-
ton. The doctor, in enjoining her to
get away from everything" had par
ticularly specified newspapers, for it
was over-zeal in the service of one of
Jonesville's morning journals that was
responsible for Miss Lumsden's break
down. One Of the most rapid and eff
fective workers on the Photograph staff,
she had. for two years, supported her.
self and her invalid mother. working
early and late, without thought of rest
or the slightest attention to the repeat
Ell warnings of her overtaxed nerves.
Finally these became so pointed and
peremptory as to be no longer disre-
garded. Pure air, simple food, and per-
feet rest had wrought wonders. The
girl slept like top, and her eye was as
bright and her step as springy as ever.
She felt equal to producing any amount
of copy" and was thinking of return
ing to work again ere she became lazy.
She made pretty picture as she lay
there, trying to settle whether to get
fully awake and resume her book, or
yield to the prevailing drowsiness and
fall sound asleep. She was saved the
trouble of decision by the sudden ap-
pcarance of old Quarles, the johnson
man-of-all-work, who rushed into the
yard, well blown by the unwonted cxer-
ton of moving slightly faster than a |
walk, and crying in his strident tones:
"Oh, Miss Carrie, suthin' dreadfurs
happenedl Old Steve Arnold down to |
the toll gates killed Miss Arnold with |
the AK an hung hisself Gus Robbins
jess found 'em. He's overt the store.
What kin we do? Squire Jackson's at
the picnic, an there amt nobody to
take no action"
Instantly the hitherto languid young
woman was all activity and interest.
She was out of the hammock and down
the steps in jiffy. Here was an OPP
portunity to atone for month of idle
ness.
swell, that's terrible, isn't it? IL
suppose there's nothing to do, though,
luarles, but wait till the squire comes
back. Then he'll hold an inquest.
fhere'li be plenty of time for that"
The newspaper girl scented a posi-
Die SCOOP" and didn't wish the matter
stirred up too much. /.
She tossed on her 'sailor" and accom-
'anied the old man over to the store.
where Robbins, lanx, yellow-haired, ,
nd exceedingly shy young man, was
cling his story for the sixth time. He y
vas considerably embarrassed when the !
all, graceful, bright-eyed girl appeared .
nd made him give his vivid recital all '
YER again. 1t was much shorter this
inc, though, for she skillfully but
harmingly headed off all Pathological :
nd superfiuous statement. In five min ..
ties she had him pumped dry, and then, q
iioted by the young man and old :,
uarles, Miss Lumsden started on foot :,
'r the scene of the tragedy, about :,
lille distant, filed with ardor, but not / 8.
lthout a modicum of feminine repug- y
nnce to the gruesomeness of the mat
n In hand. Doing murderers and sui
DIES had not been her line. but she
frank from nothing that fate threw in :.
&c path of duty. :.
By half-past six O'Clock she had her
DRY finished, and then, for the first
me, began to consider how she was 60 =;
9 to get her matter to the Photograph :.
hce. Thirty-five miles of Indifferent :,
ad and two big mountains Law be- -
'een Pennington and Jonesville. :;
nere was no telegraph or telephone,
ID the mail carrier, on his picturesque
ay mare, had left on his daily trip -
'urs before. All of Farmer Johnson's -.
rises were at the picnic. =;
The ,perplexed journalist consulted no
tn Quarlcs and sent him out to re-
nnoiter. He returned with the cheer 10
news that the only horses in the VIII +,
&c were Crcsby's old gray, that mr.
uidnt make the journey in a week. sa