Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1899-02-22
THE MISER'S HOARD.
r AVE you ever strolled in the
~ quaint old city Of San An
Il u tonio IN whare the river t.lIIS

~ quaint old city Of San An
\ \ tonic to where the river cuts
like a steel knife blade through the
hills? 1t runs in a rift between the
hills, as If nature had carved its course
in the dark. and tangled it all up, like q
silver-blue ribbon in the forest Of mes
quite fringe.
Have you ever followed It's windings
and looked upon the haunted house
standing high above the rivers brim,
and seen. dark upon its molderinS
walls. the print Of bloody hand!
No? Then l will tell you the story;
1t happened many years ago.
1t was New Years Eve. and a raw
wind swept through the clefts between
the hills and dashed the spray of the
San Antonio River in a monotonous
swish against the steep, oyerhanging
bank. What with the rush of the wind
through the trees and the beat Of the
turbulent waves, minor sounds were
swallowed in the general discord of pa'
ture.
On the bridge spanning the river
stood Pitro and Juan Tasca, their SOM
throats muffied to keep off the cutting
wind. Pitro dashed his hand against
the bridge rail and cried:
81 tell you, Juan, II Raschal Quito
were not the old miser's only heir, he
should never marry my daughter. A
proud, lazy, trifiing-"
Pitro caught his breath sharply as
the sound Of cry. shrill and far away,
Loated down the river.
what Is thatT' he cried, grasping
Tasca's arm. Some one cried as IL in
death agony"
Tasca drew his muffler down from
one ear.
- II hear nothing" he said. 1T was
the cry of a panther you heard. no
doubt. You are excited enough to hear
anything"
Perhaps" assented Pitro, yet 1t
seemed to me there was something in
the cry 1 recognized"
Tasca moved forward.
You were talking Of young Quito"
he said. Yes, the boy is wild-appar-
entity trifiing-but there is an element
Of good about him. The way that old
uncle of his treats him Is enough to
drive the energy out Of any spirited
young fellow; he has never had a
chance to show what Is in him, good
or bad Now, there was the time
81 want to hear no praise of Quito"
interrupted PitrO, harshly. Here my
daughter might have made a fine match
with Senior Rocca; true, little old for
30 lovely girl, but man of standing
of wealth! Yet, what can 1 sayi Who
knows what sums of gold that old man
Quito has hidden? One cannot over
look that And when Monita throws
her arms about my neck and VOWS that
she will marry no one but Raschal. only
Raschal, what can l say! She is my
only one, my little Monita-"
mo fairer, sweeter child ever blessed
q fathers home" added Tasca.
They were over the bridge now and
nearing Pitro's home. From different
direction-who may say just when?-
a tall young figure had left that home.
Goodnight. Monita mia he had
said, folding his beautiful fiancee in his
arms; you will not have long to wait.
L.
cency, nor allow me to support myself,
we will marry anyhow. l have plan,
and will not tarry long in accomplish
ing it."
Monita's soft. dusky eyes flashed a
love-light up into his face; her red lips
closed like a rosebud.
81 will never marry any one but you.'
she cried; 'it Is only you love"
With these words ringing IA his ears
Raschal drew his cloak about him and
disappeared in the gloom Of the mes
quite shadows.
Some distance down the river Miser
Quito. as he was called, sat muttering
In his home. The fire was bright that
warmed him: he did not have to spend
money for fuel; the room was comfort
able; his family had been well to do;
oil that they left was his.
why does that wretched boy stay so
late? he muttered. Always anxious
to leave me. when any one might come
In this lonely place and rob me. Al
ways anxious to work for his living
r?h, rs If could trust a hireling to
protect me as Raschars presence does.
Ah, l will make him suffer for this de
hy, wretch that he Is to leave me thus
aAone!'
a heavy step sounded on the stall
outside. and the door was pushed open
as the old man unbolted 1t, and tall
cloaked figure, stepped into the room.
What followed during a bitter alter
cation belated passers-by who heard
the raised voices could not say. Was
not Miser Quito forever Quarreling with
Raschal, and now that he had forbid.
den Raschal to marry. was not the
quarreling likely to be worse than
ever?
1t was In the gray light Of New Years
morning that Marco. the wOodcutter,
looked up as he passed Miser Quito's
house and saw the print of bloody
hand on the wall beside the door.
Marco grew pale through his swarthy
skin. Bloody deeds were not uncom
mon sights about San Antonio. Marco
had no horror Of them. But who ever
saw a seal like that upon the wall Of q
mans home? Marco turned with q
sudden weakness in his knees and hur'
ried back to town.
Among the rush of people who has
tened past Marco On his return to tbs