The pioneer press. (Miller, Hand County, S.D.) 1893-190?, 1899-06-08

ing into her house late at night, when
no one was about He'll deny break
ing into the house said, but he'll no'
deny the rest. He had the key OF the
place. and Mabel stopped with me, 10
escape being insulted by wretch she
despised.' He got furious at TINS, ana l
| don't know what more would have been
said, for policeman came in just then'
and l was turned out of the office, MI.
bruce telling me to be thankful that
wasn't taken to the police court.
thought should have died, Amos. am
| getting old, and | have had long,
long illness"
Her voice faltered, and her tears
compelled her to pause.
/ bit my lips and dug my nails into
my hands to keep myself from SYM
pathizing with her. | knew if | did so
that she would break down, and she
had not yet come 10 that part OF the
story which l burned, yet dreaded, to
hear Life and death hung upon her
words.
But where was Mabel all this time?"
| said, coldly. ''She was at home to
| give this man the lie"
| NO" answered my mother; "the day
| after you left, Mabel went into the
| country TO her mother, and did not see
| her for great many weeks. | have
| lost count of the time, Amos, but it
must have been quite three months be-
| fore / saw her. and then l did not see
| her TO speak TO. Before she came back
all the mischief had been done, and /
was not on good terms with a single
soul in the neighborhood. l can't tell
you how unhappy / was, all alone as l
was, and with my son that l loved so
far away. Well, one night / happened
to hear that Mabel and her mother were
at home, and without waiting mo-
| ment, | ran to the house"
she paused again, and passed her
hands across her eyes, striving to re-
call something which had slipped her
memory. did not help her by word;
even when she held her trembling
hands imploringly toward me, appeal
ing to me by that action for even the
made no movement. There was no
room in my heart for compassion at
that time. She continued, but in
weaker and more uncertain voice than
before.
Forgive me, Amos" she said, hum
bly,, ''but it is hard for me to remember
what came after that. You will know
why presently, and then perhaps you
will pity me. / went to the house, and
saw Mabels mother outside. Amos, she
waited till l got close up to her, and
then turned her back upon me, and
slammed the door in my face. At that,
of course. went away all of a tremble,
thinking that Mabel would come to me.
| stopped at home till ten o'clock at
night, but Mabel didn't come. didn't
know what TO think. | couldn't make
out the reason of her keeping away;
ment she came home-you know that,
Amos. If she had loved YOU"
I interrupted her sternly. go on
with your story and tell it straight.
Never mind what ught to have been
done. Let me know what was DONE"
waiting for her who should have
come, but didn't was driving me mad,
and | couldn't abide it any longer. Late
as it was, / went to her house again.
They were not abed, as | could tell by
the light, and | was going to knock at
the door, when, happening to peep
| through the window, who should / see
in the room. with glass before him,
but your enemy and mine, Mr.. bruce.
| Both Mabel and her mother were with
him, and they were talking together, as
| the best OF friends might do; and Mr..
bruce was sitting there as though he
had right to be in that place, and as
| though he did not intend to go away in
hurry. Amos, if l could have found
heart ard strength to knock at the
door, am sure they would have turned
me from the house. But l had no
| thought of anything or anybody but
you, my son, away on the seas, while
your enemy was laughing and joking
with her who should have spit in his
| face for daring to speak to her!
turned from the window, more like a
mad woman than anything else, intend
| ing to come home to our own little cot
| tage here, where we had spent so many
| happy years: but was blind with grief,
Amos, and missed my way. Even now
don't know where / got to nor how it
happened, but all OF sudden l heard
a shouting and screaming, and I was
knocked down in the road and run over
by a cab. | lost my senses then, and
| don't know what was done to me that
night, nor for many long, long night
| afterward. 1t would have been better
for me il l had never risen from my
bed rather than that the son l sucked
and worshiped should show me, as he