Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1898-07-23

NO"y UOyo Saiu VOC ~ . NY
shout"
South City was EN- fete. The
miners unusually clean, were wait
ing for the arrival of the man who
was to fairly knock North City.
Their hopes had been raised to a
high pitch by the receipt of letter
from San Francisco informing them
that a real strong man was coming
to put them in the way they should
60.
Joe had suggested salvo of pts
tolls as a welcome, but it was felt
that such reception was open to
misconception, and the subject
dropped.
The empty saloon, which had been
taken as temporary church, was as
clean as whitewash and soap could
make it, and only wanted the pres
ence of the parson to make it com.
plete.
The excitement grew intense as
the hour drew near when the coach
was due, eliminating in a mighty
cheer when the driver finally pulled
up opposite the saloon. Several
passengers got down, but no one
answering. to the description of a
strong man left the coach.
Finally Texas Joe said to the
driver, "Say, where's your new par.
son 2"
"There, sitting on his trunk" re.
piled the man, with a grin on his
face.
All eyes turned toward young,
slender looking man, who, with eyes
twinkling with amusement, was
watching his new congregation.
Seeing that something was expected
OF him, he came forward ard held
out his hand.
"Men of South City," he began in
clear, musical voice, 81 have been
sent up here to act, if you will have
me, as your new parson. Something
tells me we are going to be good
friends. and it won't be my fault if
we aren't. There's lots for me to
learn from you and perhaps I can
do little for you too.'
His face was so boyish, his hair
so curly and such an air OF sincerity
and truth seemed to surround him
that the miners, although deeply
disappointed, felt their hearts go
out to him.
One sultry afternoon the parson
Of South City was sitting in his
room, prey to the deepest depres.
sion. With all the eagerness that
youth and zeal could supply, he had
done bis best to raise his people,
and he had failed and he knew it.
He cav his miners, at first shame.
lessly and then openly, stay away
from his little church, and his heart
was sick within him. He was won
dering 1t it we're worth while stay
ing on when his door was suddenly
opened and a woman, dishevefed and
wild eyed, rushed In.
"Ob, parson, save my boy Y she
gssped, and sank on to a chair,
breathless with her haste.
"Why, Mrs. Mace, what on earth
is the matter? Is your son i'll ~ he
asked eagerly.
mo, sir, be amt ill, but he's
worse nor that-the men are going
to hang him.
"What for ? Surely he hash t been
tried. What has he done 2"
swell, SIR walled the woman,
"he's got into bad company lately
and man accused him of horse
stealing, and-and'-looking fear
fully around, @it's true, sir.''
Young and inexperienced as he
was in the ways OF a frontier camp
the parson knew that horse stealing
was one Of the deadly sins, and his
face grew pale as death.
I'm afraid, Mrs. Mace, that if
the men have decided to hang your
SON no power OF mine would stay
Them
"And you, a minister, to say that
to me, q mother Why, it's none
the less than murder, and you know
i'll oh c.r ~ che n1n-ln1 nst,