The Winslow mail., 1899-11-02
Farmer TayIOr'S GhOSl
Il az M alS7VE az M az 9IS az az az Il
Py Rose L. Colby.

III ing Chicago houses in the west,
each, however, carrying different lines
of goods. Jim was well fixed and owned
a good farm adjoining Cheyenne, To-
cality conveniently situated for him as
regarded his field of work, but after the
death of his father, who in a fit of de-
spondency caused by continued ill
health had committed suicide, he left
the farm and moved to Chicago.
81 don't know what to do with the
old place." he said one day, as we sat
in hotel rotunda enjoying an after
dinner. chat and some good cigars.
'tJohn Brownson, whose land adjoins
it, wants to buy it, but he is not will
ing to pay even half its actual value.
He has been persistent in his efforts to
get me to sell, but hate to give the
place away, which l would be virtually
doing, if l let him have it at the figure
he offers. Brownson has the name of
being rather a schemer, and 1 think
he wants to take the two pieces of
ground and lay off a new addition to
Cheyenne, by dividing the land into
town lots"
L. Il
on it, or rent it, suggested.
'The fact is" he replied, 81 could
not get my wife to live in the house,
even though I hired man and woman
to stay with her. and it is impossible
to get anyone else to live there, or rent
it, at any price
'sWhy, what's the matter with it?''
asked.
Jim shifted himself around uneasily
in his chair, and looking somewhat
sheepish, answered:
''They say the house is haunted" 1
threw myself back in my chair and
laughed aloud, fairly shouting, the idea
seemed to me so preposterous-a haunt
ed house in a Wyoming town, at the
dawn of the twentieth century.
''NVhy, Jim, you certainly don't be-
lieve such rot as that" l exclaimed,
when l recovered myself.
81 don't KNOW" he replied, shaking
his head, obviously, strange things
have been seen and heard there, ac-
cording to the testimony of persons
whose truthfulness has never been
questioned. I believe there is an ele-
ment of superstition in all human ma
ture, which only requires certain en-
vironments and conditions to bring it
out. While I don't really believe in
ghosts, yet 1 would not stay alone in
the old house all night for any amount
of money"
ST assure you, Jim," broke in, "that
superstition is simply relic of bar
barism, and no one but a very ignorant
chump would confess to belief in
ghosts nowadays. / am glad to be able
to assert that there is not grain of
superstition in my composition, and to
prove it to you, I'll agree to sleep in
your house instead of the hotel the next
time l make Cheyenne"
Jim eagerly took me up on my propo-
sition. and pledged cigars in profusion
If | succeeded in making good my prom
ises. /, enthused over the prospect of
demonstrating the absurdity of the ru-
mors in circulation, not only pledged
myself to stay in the house alone, but
to sleep in the very room that had been
Jim's fathers, and which had not been
disturbed since his tragic death.
When Inext arrived in Cheyenne gave
Jane, the chambermaid of the hotel
dollar and asked her to GO over to the
Taylor place and get the front room
upstairs ready for me to sleep in that
night.
''Law sakesl You don't ever mean to
sleep there alone" exclaimed Jane
"They do say that ole man Taylor's
jes' trampin' round de house de whole
night long,
"Do you believe that, Jane?" I asked
seriously.
WALL" she answered, timorously, "a
heap O folks has seen i'm, an dat dere
very front room was his'n. I'm most
afeerd to go dere alone by myself in
de day time"
''Well, Jane" l said, 'you can take a
lot of your friends over there with you,
when you go, for company. / promised
Jim Taylor I'd sleep there; and, be-
sides. would not be afraid of old man
Taylor if he were alive, and I'm sure
/ have no cause to fear him now that
he's dead"
The Taylor house, a two-story white
cottage, stood off by itself just at the
edge of the town limits. On one side
was an uneven looking hedge fence,
forming the boundary line between the
Taylor and the Brownson lands. A few
tail willow trees grew so close to the
house that their branches touched and
scraped upon the roof as they swayed
back and forth by the breeze from
the prairie.
1t was about ten O'Clock when I
opened the front door and found nv
way through the hall by the aid of a
lighted match. There were no curtains
on the windows, and as | ascended the
stairs l could see through, into the
empty rooms, where the moonlight
formed fantastic figures on the bare
floors as it fiickered in through the
branches of the trees outside.
rs stepped on the uncarpeted stairs
they creaked, and gave out Il hollow
sound which echoed throughout the
house until it mingled with the noise
made by the doors and windows as they
were shaken and ratified by the wind.
When [ reached the front room up
strirs 1 lighted the lamp, brought over