The News-Herald. [volume] (Hillsboro, Highland Co., Ohio) 1886-1973, 1898-02-10

since early in the spring. and the
autumn had found us all disgusted and
homesick--all but McGnnis. the cook.
Besides, we were famishing for news.
Our mail and the late papers and maga-
zines should have been sent to us every
two weeks, but for nearly two months
nothing had been seen of the old trap
per who acted as mail carrier, and no
messenger nor message of any kind had
reached us from the outside world.
One night after supper we lounged
on our damp beds, ten of us in one tent,
waiting for bedtime. The work of the
day had been unusually hard and the
hours long. We were too leg-weary and
heavy of spirit TO do anything but the
little patching that was regularly neces-
sary and to lounge.
McGinnis came over from the cook
tent to tell us one of his tales Of 40 years
ago. His stories possessed one rare
quality. They were reminiscent of the
wild life of the mountains in the earlier
days. but McGinnis played no promi-
nent part in any of them. We were all
curious to learn something about the
old man. but our curiosity was never
satisfied. Frequently as story in
which he figured gave promise of show
ing his younger self put to test of
strength or of courage, he would break
off suddenly or change the entire trend
OF his story. But he enjoyed spinning
his yarns, and our silence of late had
afforded him the opportunity of life
time.
"Well. I see yous are the same merry
crowd as ever" he said cheerily. as he
took the only chair in the tent. "But
which of you is it that's comm up the
slope yonder. I'd like to know"
Several of us looked at him wonder
5 ingly. Those who were busy paid o at
tention whatever.
The camp dog stretched, went lazily
to the opening. then grew suddenly
alert and began to bark Almost in
stantly ten heads were crowded be-
tween THE tent flaps.
Sure enough, some one whom we
could not see clearly in the dim light
was coming up the valley. It was evil
IDENTITY man. following the line of our
survey higher up the mountain slope,
though only a short distance away.
We finally fell over one anotherin our
sudden excitement. Everyone seemed
moved by the same impulse. A half
dozen pairs of wet and worn-out boots
disappeared from the passage between
the two rows of hunks at the same in
slant. Some one ran out and shouted to
attract attention. Then everybody else
shouted, because there was suddenly
shouting in the soul of each.
McGinnis went quietly and lighted
the fire he had laid for morning in the
cook stove. The head chairman made
a place near the tent opening for an
other bed.
The rodman and the "stake artist"
fell to wrestling and rolled about in the
tent and then out Of it with most unex-
pected agility and high spirits.
A voice said it was not the old mail
carrier, and we became still more GU
rious. Not member of the party
doubted that it was some one bringing
our mail
Two or three Of the boys went to meet
the newcomer, and the rest of us, half
ashamedof the eagerness we had shown,
went back into the tent, threw ourselves
down on the beds and assumed attitudes
of Indifference.
We heard McGinnis calling: "Come
over to the cook tent and eat before the
boys, start you to talking; they'll never
let You stop after"
"1've ct" strange voice answered.
We inside sat up again, our anticipa-
tion reawakened. A short, heavy-set,
square, -jawed man, without grub pack
or blankets, limped painfully into the
tent and sat down on one of the beds.
He was evidently much travel-worn, but
his small, beadlike eyes were intensely
bright, and their glance from one to an
other of us was rapid and searching.
''Didn't you bring any mail?" asked
the rodman, abruptly.
We all looked at the stranger eagerly
and waited.
"No," he answered, in dsinterested-
ly calm voice that fingered unpI casa Mt
ly in our ears.
The stranger felt in, the inside pocket
of his coat.
"Only letter found in the trail at
the last creek crossing" he said. quietly,
as lhe again searched us with his small,
restless eyes.
''It's for some one named Patrick Nc
Ginnis." he continued, holding up an
unopened letter.
"Do you know him?'
The old mnn reache6for his letter and
silently held it to the light of the near
est candle. Then we all saw that II was
crumpled and deeply stained.
"Widout my spectacles, it looks like
blood on it," said McGinnis, slowly.
'I thought it was blood, too, and
fresh" said the stranger.
''The trail was torn up near where I
found it and the bushes beat down.
hunted without finding anything; but
my foot was so lame couldn't get far
through the brush"
There was a sudden movement in the
tent, but no one spoke. The boys shook