Baxter Springs news. [volume] (Baxter Springs, Kan.) 1882-1919, 1897-11-27
! John Bubert'$ luck.
1 BY Helen Beekman.
door John Hubert! Ill luck had fol-
- - II. haalo Cor xtnany

U long ycur uhth ~ See"Ne ~"
a sequence to his every undertaking as
Good fortune Is to other men. But
deep within his honest breast was a
weli.spring Of hope, bubbling to the
surface in ne'er-ceasing ripples, and
irving to his face its sunny smile, his
ewes their happy outlook, spite OF mis-
fortune and disappointment. 1t fairly
oyerran its boundaries when he wooed
md won pretty Meta Allen for his
bride, and the year they spent together
was year OF perpetual sunshine, spite
OF the dark cloud Of poverty which hung
over their humble cottage, and made II
30 hard to provide even their simple
wants. But Meta sung over her work
like some bird building its nest, and
John found labor pleasure, with the
memory of his bright Preside before
him.
But there came day when the poor
girls song died on her lips, MS they grew
white and pale, leaving only sad, lin
Cering smile about them, and the CHEEKY
fire burned low, unheeded, and shadow
mot of poverty, but the great, grim
terror, which broods over the palace
alike with the hovel.-shut out the sun
shine. and sweet Meta Huberts eyes,
with one lingering look of love in their
depths for the strong man sobbing like
n child ut her bedside, closed for the
last time. while the feeble flame Of life
flickered and went out. For little
while black darkness entered into John
Ilubert's soul. Even the waters OF the
spring seemed dried up, but, 10! his
young wife Ind not left him uncom-
forted. Baby fingers clutched ut his
heart string; baby's cry stirred the
waters of hope once more, and as the
months grew into years and he traced in
the little ones eyes the same look which
hnd shown IN her mothers, his very soul
went out TO the child who was rs daugll.
ter and wife both, and the well-spring of
hope once more bubbled and sang. II
was for her dear sake, IL long years
after his young wife had been laid to
rest, that he determined to leave the
grave kept ever green, and turn his face
westward. His farm was mortgnged,
his struggle hard one. Little Meta
deserved something better. so he sold
all he had, and with her by his side set
out for their new life to the wonderful
gold country.
II bore little evidence of its hidden
treasure when Il at last was reached.
Meta looked dismnyed nt the rough men
who formed the settlement, when.
clinging close to her fathers hand, they
entered among them. She could not I'M
derstand the amazed looks they cast on
her. She did not dream that with her
golden hair falling in curls below her
waist. her great blue eyes timidly up
raised or dropping with the long, brown
lashes. fringing the delicate cheek, Il
was MS though an angel had suddenly
appeared in their midst. Some Of them
had wives and children Of their own at
home. and tears sprang to eyes which
had known no moisture for years.
This is no place for such MS she"
growled forth one man, indicating the
child with glance, but John answered,
rot without dignity:
Her place is by my side. She knows
no other friend. Her mother is In
Heaven"
So no more was said, and John HUI
bert's claim was marked out with the
rest. and the little girl was soon rs much
ut home rs though she had known no
other life. But the feeling with which
che had impressed the men never died
AWAY. To them she seemed more angel
than child. and when her yellow hair
came floating in the breeze and she
would suddenly dance up TO any group,
the coarse Jest about to he uttered
would he silenced-the muttered curse
bc sent back to Its fountain head.
So the years went by until Meta grew
from childhood to girlhood, almost to
womanhood. pure. sweet flower in this
far-off wild. No better luck fell TO John
Uubert's share. The nugget which
would have made his fortune he passed
by, while those on right and left Of him
gathered II. But the old smile, the old,
uncomplaining honesty, made him a
general favorite, and no one felt even n
pang of envy when ut last. after five pa
tient years of toll, the rumor spread
through the camp that success had
crowned his efforts; that John Hubert
hud struck gold, and carried enough to
his little cottage to enable him to go
back rich man TO his home again.
They had no bolts, no locks. in this rude
district. Each man was to the other a
brother-a brother marked, perhaps.
with the brand of a quick word, n mo-
mentary anger, but never n blow In the
dark or the nssassin's hidden steel. So
a great thrill of horror and amaze shook
the little community TO its center when
the day after John Hubert's luck had
come to him he was found cold and life
less in his bed, smiling as though he had
had no time to awaken from some hap
py dream, but with the cold steel
through his heart.
Who had done this thing?
No need to ask why 1t had been done.
The missing gold proclaimed the mo-
tive. The murderer had been thief as
well. No stranger had entered the
camp; none of their number were miss
ing. Each man feared TO look in the
others face. Silently, sadly. they laid
the poor body In the ground. A rude
burial; but few, whate'er the outward
pomp. receive such silent need Of grief.
Six months later. and Meta Hubert
and young Roger Rollins walked side
by side on the outskirts Of the camp.
Her face was pale, her eyes Ind in them
an expression born there since her fa-
tiers cruel death, and she listened with
resolution already formed to the young
mans words.
"will you not marry me, Meta? Have