The Dawson news. (Dawson, Ga.) 1889-current, 1897-03-03
A LOGGING CAMP ROMANCE.


tie of white. The one railway station at
Bentley, little Wisconsin village, was
crowded with pleasure-seekers waiting
for the west-bound train, which was an
hour late. There was to be dance that
evening in an adjoining town. The
place was full of laughter, and the mer-
ry voices suggested no thought of cares
the dawn would bring. A few travelling
men sat around, wrapped in huge coats,
curiously studying the vagaries of the i'll
assorted crowd, as one naturally will
when in contact with strange fellow
creatures. The regular passenger feels
no place in the unusual stir that the ex.
cursionists create, but he meditatively.ac-
ceptS his position and half gladly recalls
the memories of his own joyous youth.
when holidays brought to him similar
happy associations. A little band of
musicians, with their instruments. had
gathered in one corner of the room while
half a dozen youngsters surrounded the
man with the drum and gazed enyiouslv
at him, and wonderingly eyed the big
fiddle.
The train on the branch road from the
north, called the Jumper probably
most literal cognomen for the little. old
fashioned locomotive with its single car.
drew in on the other side of the sta
ton to make connection with the west
bound.
A minute later the door opened slowly,
revealing, to those near, three men, pre-
coded by the conductor, bearing a heavy
burden between them. 1t was a litter
made from rough boards, and upon it
lay human form wrapped in blankets.
Instantly almost hush fell upon those
gathered near the door which quickly
communicated itself to every part of the
room, broken only by eager whisperings
of inquiry from the startled spectators
Gently they laid the seemingly lifeless
burden upon the floor, and one of the
bearers, tall, stalwart young fellow,
clad in the style peculiar to loggers, ten
DERBY lifted one of the blankets from the
lnanimate form, revealing pale, though
singularly handsome, face of young
man. He then knelt beside The sufferer
for minute and whispered some word
of hope in his ear, for the poor lad slow
ly opened pair of large dark eyes and
gazed tenderly at the anxious face above
him. Then, realizing that he was in a
strange place and among strangers, he
turned away with sad, wan smile, and
patient sigh escaped his cold, tremb-
ling lips.
Poor fellow" said the conductor in
an undertone to the sympathetic by
ISLANDERS, "he's most gone. He is hurt
inside, somewhere, and 1T is doubtful if
he will live until he gets to the hospit-
al"
''Can be of.any service to you? I'm
physician" and young man stepped
forward and offered his card to the con-
ductor.
81 haln't got anything to do with it,
said the conductor, ''yOu'll have to ask
him, and he nodded toward the Young
woOdsman who had Just risen from be.
side the patient. Hes his brother and
he hain't left him minute since we
started from Kerley. never saw broth
ers so nightly fond of each other as thew
are. Why, he won't even let anyone 90
near him." Up to this time the elder
brother, as he appeared to be, had spok.
en- no word, although at the outset he
had been Piled with many questions
from curl us OnlOokers. They had re-
ceived only stony, unconscious stare in
answer. Suddenly he seemed to realize
that some courtesy was due to the SYM
| pathetic advances some Of the gentlemen
had rendered, but he kindly refused any
prOffered assistance. In a few words he
explained that the lad was suffering in
tense pain, and that nothing could be
done until no reached Maryville-'if he
ever lives to reach there" he added in
a voice scarcely audible.
The other ''lubber- Jack" however.
who had come down from the camp
with the two brothers, volunteered some
information as to the unfortunate affair.
In another part of the room his recital
had drawn around him an eager crowd
of listeners.
Then two were the queerest baggage
| ever seen in log camp" he was say
ing in tone meant only for those stand
ing nearest him. "They was as thick as
mOlasses. You'd never see one less
you'd see the other. They wouldn't
seem to have much to do with the rest
OF the fellers in camp somehow; they
were better than any of us. But was
goin' to tell you bout the accident.
ut Happened early this mornin. They
! always worked together-Jed, that's the
older, and Frankie-that's what we called
'em. We was loadin' some logs from a
skid onto the sled. FRANKIE was on top
startin' 'em down, and Jed-he was at
the bottom. | don't know how it hap
pened-I was on the other side of the
sled. / heard Jed say: BE careful,
| Frank that they dnn,t slim nndar Won =