The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1897-09-01

way Amt seen any stranger round
here latelyP"
''No, indeed"
'No wood-chopper nor nothing2"
'No, none. What has this man
doneP What does he look like?'
"Real nice and young and kind.
Not more'n boy. Murdered man
over there. Here's his description"
and he handed me coarsely printed
Reward. Well, boys, get a move
on. We're on our way to La Huerta,
he added, "to borrow Waite's dogs.
Well, good day, ma'am. Better not
harbor any strangers.
A moment more and, left alone, /
thought over the situation. Cedric
gone, no neighbor near, and muir
derer at large whose steps 'p'inted
this way" Suddenly it was borne in
upon me that Anne was the fugitive.
A firm believer in woman's intui-
tions, yet hoping desperately that
mine was at fault, L unfolded the
paper the sheriff gave me. 1t tailed
well. Moroseness, agitation, all were
explained.
Did Anne guess that her identity
was known, my life, feared, would
pay the penalty. To ignore the situa-
ton, live through the night if possible,
and trust to someone turning up in the
morning was all that could be done.
Milking-time brought fresh terrors.
How guard ones self. with both hands
engaged letting down floods of warm,
innocent milk? Dinner was eaten
hurriedly, with the same feeling of
uneasiness. Billikins tucked in his
crib, Anne retired early, and, every
sense on the alert, was left alone to
watch the nursery door.
1t fascinated me. Who would open
it? Anne, to hide among the canons
till the posse had returned to its Tulare
homer Or Henry Smith, to make an
end of me and flee? Truly, the ranch
monotony was broken at last. Sol
emnly the clock ticl1ed, slowly the
hands went round, an hour passed. A
movement in the adjoining room, and
literally my blood ran cold. That had
hitherto seemed a mere figure of
speech. The sound ceased, and still 1
watched the nursery door. At last,
when my brain would have turned
with more, 1 heard a sound which,
faint at first, grew louder and louder.
ooh, heaven" cried, "the blood
hounds!' and fell senseless to the
ground.
o =
Slowly returned to consciousness,
my gaze fell ON Cedric, the La Huerta
sheriff, and Anne-Anne anxiously ap-
plying restorativesl
Take him away" gasped; he will
murder us. :"
"You are ravingp' cried Cedric;
''that is Anne"
''No; Smith, the murderer. The
blood-hounds tracked him to the very
door. "
Here Hiram Waite thought fit to
interpose.
"Guess I can straighten out this
kinh, Mrs. Allandale. You did hear
the hounds, they're up at the barn
now. Your husband, he heard at La
Huerta we was beatin' up this part of
the country, so he lit out for home,
thinkin' you'd be scared. We caught
our man hidin' by the 'Dobe Hill, and
the Tulare boys took him back to
town. Your husband and me was
tired, so we made tracks for here.
Sorry bout the dogs. Might ha'
known they'd scare you"
The Honorable Anne next day gave
warning. eff you please, ma am, you
and Mr. Allandale have been very
kind, and 1 love Mr. Billikins like my
own, but can't stay where I've been
so misjudged."
"More candor on your Ipart would
have prevented your being mis-
judged"
She blushed. 81 often wanted to
tell you, 'am-what 1 first said
wasn't true. / came from England
when / was baby. 1 haven't any
brother, and, i never went to La
Huerta."
"Ahp
'"rhe kinder you was, ma'am, the
meaner I felt; and 1 was afraid Mr..
Allandale would go to the hospital /;
and, worst of all, my heart stood still
when he spoke of Mr.. Waite. For he
and my stepfather are cousins, and
was afraid he would guess who I
was.
'Your stepfather?"
''Yes, ma'am, mother married Jim
Waite the second time, and it was
him that came with the posse and
frightened me. He was such bad
cruel man that 1 couldn't stand it, so /
ran away"
''How did you happen to reach
Vaquero Water?"
with some friends in one of those
big wagons they call prairie schoon-
ers.' Tulare folks go to the coast
every year; but they don't dare go
there straight, it's too much change.
They always stop at the Iron Spring to
cool off first"
To cool off at ninety in the shaded
''Soon as we came to the spring, /
heard about you, and thought I'd try
for the place.
"But how much better to have told
me the truth"
81 knew Mr.. Allandale was English,
ma'am, and they are that particular /
was afraid he'd send me home"
Surely the story Of Lady Emily
Brown was unnecessary.
Anne's eyes flashed. 'Its every
word true, ma'am. Not that 1 ever
saw her; she was by fathers first mar
riage; but it's true. Why, they lived
in a beautiful house in st. Johns