Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1897-02-27
11B X411KVG118


to send her a letter, in which, in bad
English and worse spelling, he made
her an offer of his heart and hand.
Mr.. Roberts sent the note back, with
the Endorsement that such negotiations
could only 60 on through him.
Frank Mason knew Of all this, but
so long as no indignity was offered to
his betrothed he saw no reason for
coming into collision with the Bully
of Gilroy.
The first harvest was in, and the
families in the settlement decided to
commemorate the event by harvest
home picnic, one of the best and most
poetic ideas we have retained as a
heritage from our mother England.
Everybody within 20 miles of Gilroy
was at this festival, and men who
heretofore had looked upon Sunday as
the only time to renew their shirts,
turned out on Thursday, with the
novel sensation of men who approach
godliness unexpectedly by being clean
at an unusual time.
This day Jack Culp was out in all
his glory, with the reddest of kerchiefs
at his throat, and cataract of chain
tumbling down his vest and into the
ample left-handed pocket of the same
article. The village barber shaved
shampooed, clipped and oiled him that
morning, till he emitted the odor of a
fancy. soap shop. For the first time in
six months he had his boots BACKED
and as he thought they looked better
than his pants, he pushed the pants
inside their ample tops.
Jack Culp's desire to be dandy, at
this harvest-home, extended so far
that he even cleaned, fresh-oiled and
reloaded his pistols, as we'll as polish.
ing up the knife to which he playfully
applied the stale name of "toothpick. u
Thus arrayed, he was giant OF
beauty, in his own eyes, and, to be
candid, he was by no means a dwarf
in the eyes of those with whom be
came in contact.
The place of the picnic was in one
of those park-like groves so peculiar
to the valleys about Gilroy-splendid
oaks, no underground, grassy slopes,
and stream of water near by that
looked like condensed air. There was
charming place to eat, musicians
from San Jose, and splendid plat,
form for dancing. Of course the
young people availed themselves Of
these advantages, and after the dinner
was over the musicians had no rest ;
and the leader, who, by the way, played
a cornet-thought be never saw peo'
pie 80 tireless, and he was particularly
struck with the activity of Jack Culp.
Mr.. Jack Culp laid claims to being
q dancer. Next thing to putting heads
on men, his forte was to dance women
off their feet, and this was an occa-
sion he could not let slip. He had
|importuned Jennie Roberts so often to
dance, that, to escape him, she strolled
up the stream, girl-like, thinking the
eyes of the bully of Gilroy were not
on her. She sat down on q rock
where she imagined she was secluded,
when she heard step on the grass,
and, before she could rise, Jack Culp
was beside her, and his arm about her
waist.
Jennie sprang to her feet, and, with
flashing ewes. ordered him away; but
he rose with her, and said
"Jennie, thar's no use in your tryin'
to shake me. Ilove you, and you've
got to be my wife, even if I have to
kill that sneak, Frank Mason"
Jennie Roberts was alarmed, and
was about to cry out, when suddenly
form sprang between her and Jack
Culp, and, looking, she saw Frank
Mason, with fiery eyes and snowy
cheeks, between her and the bully.
II have lost my patience with you,
you dog! Leave here" cried the in &.
furiated Mason.
Jack Culp, recovering himself, shout
ed an oath and sent out his fist In
reply.
Jennie screamed, and begged Frank
to desist; but the dam of his pent up
wrath was down, and putting her
gently back, he buttoned up his coat
with his left hand, and leaped forward,
with his right extended.
The blow on the bully's face sound
ed like a pistol shot, and was 80 well
planted that Jack Culp fell like log,
with his eyes blinded and his nose
bleeding.
Your bully, if beaten in skill and
strength, has ever the coward's subter-
fuge-a concealed weapon. Juck Culp
had small arsenal, and, without ris-
ing, he drew a pistol and fred. The
well.meant ball sped wide of its mark.
Frank Mason was mad-so mad
that his impulse would have carried
him in the same direction had there
been 10000 Jack Culps, with the trig-
gers of 10000 pistols under their index
fingers firing at him.
Before Culp could fire again, his
heavy heels came down on his breast,
an iron grip was on his throat, and
another grip so powerful on his right
wrist that it weakened, and the pistol
fell from it.