The Banner-Democrat. [volume] (Lake Providence, East Carroll Parish, La.) 1892-current, 1898-08-13
CHAPTER X.
DEAD on ALIvE2

C[Ss~OSI(>Cs~S-1
CHAPTER X.
DEAD on ALIVE?
Ghostly fell the snow!
Like O curtain, shroud, it had close;
about the devoted form OF Edna Dean,
that wild, tempestuous night, when tn,
Door child OF destiny had sunk ex
hausted and despairing at the very
threshold Of safety.
Tho siren-hearted Beatrice Mercer
had sped to sunshine, luxury and gold
with no thought of the real fate Of the
girl whose name she had assumed
whose loyal lover she had determined K
win.
More merciful than she, the soft snow
had drlfted gently over the inanimate
wanderer, striving to shut out from the
rigor OF storm and tempest the frail
form that had succumbed to the chill OF
winter like tender lily.
Upon that same eventful night another
figure braved the storm, and, breasting
its ferceness, took his way along the
Same road, down which Edna Deane's
dumb guide had so nearly led her to
shelter.
"A night to get housed. pity the
homeless or belate1l7 breathed hearty,
putting John Blake, as no struggled
through the deep drifts. "Ah! nearly
home. There's the dear old wife wait
ing to welcome me with warm cup
per, I'll warrant"
Farmer John neared the unpreten-
tious cottage that resembied Lapland-
er's hut, with its caves hung deep with
snow festoons. A doleful neigh from
the gon-shed aroused his humane
heart, however, to turn from his path.
He found there the exhausted animal
that had led Edna hither, bestowed tho
wandering brute In it's stall, and started
again for the house.
"Ho, there, my deari" sang out the
bluff, great-hearted old fellow, as he
made up huge SNOWFALL and sent 1t six
feet away dashing against the door Of
the cottage.
1t opened. An eager, motherly face
showed In the lamplight.
Dear, dear! Is 1t you, Johnp I've
been go worried. Always a boy, throw
ing snowballs and singing out like pl-
rate. Will you never mendf" I.
Never while this jolly snow reminds
me Of our schoolday sleighrides, and
your pretty, blooming face, you dear old
grill" rotorted happy John. Como,
throw me broom TO beat path, 30 /
won't be dragging the snow all over that
rag carpet you think more Of than you
do Of me.
did you everl"
Been lonesome2" sang out John, in
dustrlously sweeping path to the door.
1Terriblel Did you just come, John?"
did just come? You wager haven't
been promenading around for fun, with
snow chuck two feet down my neck, and
that nice warm supper on the tablet"
Because thought heard some one
cry out bit ago."
Pigeons, maybe"
4No. It was human cry for help. "
"Pshaw! Fancles. The wind toots
like an engine whistle -night-lawsy
mel"
Farmer John uttered q sharp cry,
stumbled, recoiled. The broom fell
from his hand, and there he stood star
Ing blankly down at the ground at his
feet.
what now, John2" calculated his
vito, peering, too.
Something in tn path. Bag Of oats
"a sheep-no! Jane. look!"
He had leaned over to examine the
object at his feet.
His great, soulful eyes glowed like
two stars.
Into view he had dragged a human
hand, limp and nerveless.
A soggy dress-sleeve followed and
then o terrible cry rang from his wife s
lips.
Out into the snow she dashed. Down
beside tho inanimate form. disenshroud-
cd from It's snowy mound, she knelt
Il. I'll T.
to the white, cold face of the insensib!e
Edna Deane-"it's q woman-a young
girl. Oh, John! look atthe bonny face. "
and the quick tears rained down in wild,
mothcrly pity. "Oh. John! dead or alive
-which2"
CHAPTER Nj.