The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1897-12-08

dened with communal Iulea's'
No word was spoken between the
two men as they rode on in Indian
file. The air, which had been in
tensely cold and still all day, began
to grow warmer. At the same time
an occasional gust Of wind threw a
cloud of fine snow against the mules
feet and then died away as quickly
as it had come. twas getting dark,
and increasing their pace they soon
arrived at Jacobs shanty. But the
old man, who was standing outside
splitting frewood, had seen them
coming long way off, their mount
ed figures standing boldly outlined
against an ominous bank of clouds
which the setting sun was now STAIN
ing to lurid red. Eric, making
Jim a sign to hold his tongue, hailed
the old man thus:
"How long before Peters comes
back, Jacobsi"
"That | cannot just say for GER
tain"
81 suppose you know that he j has
already been off his place more than
six months right along9'''
"Aye, l guess maybe he has. .
"I suppose, then, you know that
Peters has forfeited his place under
the homestead act9"
"well, as to that, I can't say. I'm
here to hold it for him, being, you
see. a kind Of chum, and guess he's
as good right to it as any one, see
ing he's done improvements on it.
"That doesn't count for nothing
unless he lives on it, retorted Ed
sen, land, besides, my pal here
(pointing to Jim, who, with sheep
ish. face, was beating his mitts to-
gether to keep the blood circulating),
awants this place, and he's going to
have it, SO you'd better turn out in
side Of "a hours, or we'll make the
place too hot to hold you. Do you
hearq''
"Aye, I hear you, Eric Edsen, )"
replied the old man, his eyes kin
ding, and grasping his ak trihe
more firmly. you've threatened
before now, but I'm here still, and
if YOU want the claim you'll have to
take it by force over my dead body,
for swore to my chum that I'd
hold it, and I'll keep my oath if l
die for it. "
"We'l see about that" hissed
Edsen through his teeth. We'll
burn you ont. shack and all, bundle
of useless bones that you are, if
you're not out of here by this time
tomorrow. +"
Then he called to jim: Come on.
It's waste of time talking. Looks as
if we were in for baddish night,
and our flour all but out. hope
Serge will get back from Grand
Forks tomorrow or we'll be in a
tight fix.
Wheeling his mule, and turning
in the Mexican saddle to shake his
fist st the old man, he shouted back,
"I've warned you square enough;
this time tomorrow and both put
ting their mules into gallop they
rapidly disappeared in the fast fall
ing darkness.
The old man slowly gathered up
his wood in little bundles and car
ried them in, shut his door tight,
replenished the stove and sat down.
So this was the end of it all, he sad
ly thought, the end of all the lonely
life he had led. Tomorrow he would
have to fight for his home, perhaps
his life, or abandon everything.
He rapidly considered. From the
look of the sky, one of Dakota's ter
rible blizzards was threatening. IF
he decided to leave, he would have
20 tramp five miles to reach the
nearest shelter; his clothing was
poor, quite inadequate for such a
journey even in calm weather, much
less in storm. There was no trail !;
the temperature was IS degrees be-
dow zero, but then, if he dare not
venture out, neither dare they; the
coming storm would keep them at
home too This slight CLEAN of
hope encouraged him.
He rose and opened the door, but
a furious gust drove him in again.
The sun had now sunk and the bank
of clouds had rapidly spread east
ward. Mechanically he looked at
his wood pile. Thank God, he had
enough, at any rate. and lots of
-four too. He couldn't freeze or
starve as long as he staid where he
was. He quickly shut the door,
threw on some red willow to raise
hot fire and made himself strong
brew of tea.
Outside the wind was steadily ris
ing. It ceased to come in gusts
now, but howled ominously round
the old shack, now and again lift
ing and rafting theragged edges of
loose tar paper on the roof The