The Worcester spy. [volume] (Worcester, Mass.) 1898-1904, 1899-03-12
Pathetic Romance of
a Western Heiress.
HER LIFE'S MYSTERY
She Wanders the Country
Der in Quest Of a Name.

Miss Amelia Stafford of Los Angeles,
Cal, is wealthy, and has consecrated
the rest of her life to the task of find
ing out who and what her father and
mother were, where they lived and VINO
are her relatives, if any exist. Hers is
story of pathetic romance, and when
she relates it with all her modest re-
ticence, it is difficult to restrain a tear.
TWenty-three years ago, says the De-
troit News Tribune, there entered Ari-
iona strip of young man with his
Wife. He was slim, well bullt, with keen
gray eyes, cheeks of rudy healthful
aspect, a demeanor altogether digni-
fed, testifying good breeding while a
certain softness of speech bespoke him
as an eastern man, possibly a Boston
ian. She was as tall as himself, with
features Of chiseled regularity, a man
ner dainty and captivating, while the
richness of enunciation and the deub-
GRAFTON Of utterance proclaimed at
once her southern nativity. Great was
her anxiety for the little baby girl she
held in her arms.
The young man gave the name of
Thomas Fletcher, and he spoke proad-
ly Of the young woman Us his wife
and the baby as his child. Possessing
a small sum of money, he entered into
q deal with two old prospectors, Bill
Stafford and Rome Tallyen-a French
Notwithstanding jointly to venture
IN search of gold or silver. They select
ed promising territory 1t was ar
ranged that the dainty wife and he
smiling babe should accompany the
party. Day. after day the weary pack
mules climbed lofty SUBMITS of Ari-
bona buttes, and day after day they
picked their way with unerring certain
ty down the steep and precarious de-
clivities. Mrs. Fletcher, beautiful as a
lily and fully as fragile, faded as q
mower. Fatigue made it's inroads upon
her delicate health and like the dying
rose, the falling of each dropping pet
al bringing it nearer and nearer its
end and leaving its beauty but a mean
DRY, this brave wife became weaker
and weaker, and more and more ella-
ciated.
When the camp was finally reached
the claims staked out and work be-
gun, the rOughness of the great
hearted prospectors turned to an en-
parressed tenderness, which they were
unable to express and at times, when
they saw the Dallid face of the wife.
the troubled expression of the hus-
''eN'lN'J o%Ala LIS Sdu, illlulIlNH, DldlnLlVG
SOD OF the babe Calloused hands
would wipe crystal drops from the
weather beaten faces and the pipes
| would be pulled with fury, until
| clouds Of blush smoke fioated upward
in silent sympathy of aching hearts.
At last the end came. Husband and
friends sat side by side and watched
the lamp of life go out. She beckoned
| them close to her bedside and said in
| faltering voice: .u sss..
you will always take care of dear
little Amy, won't you, Tom And you,
my good, kind friends l leave it to
you to help. Should anything ever
! happen to Tommy Toni leave nv
little girl to you for protection until
her family takes her back. You will,
won't you?"
God bless ye, mann, sure we will
as long as we live" stammered bluff
| old Bill.
They laid her away on the hill with
| the golden sunset of the Rockies
beaming on the grave. The three men
| bowed themselves low in grief and
from bit of prayer book the nus
band murmured the Episcopal service.
| Bill cleared his throat and attempted
to sing an old hymn he remembered
| having sung back In the states, but
| something gripped him tightly by the
throat, and the melody of song be-
came the melody of sobs, Tanyen
! groaned. The three men went back
to camp. A rough pile of stones was
! built as a monument to keep the
bowling coyotes from the body, and
Bill suggested that they fashion with
| their knives memorial tablet on wood,
| telling who was buried there.
"Fletcher's not our name" said the
husband, and some day, boys, I'll tell
! you all about it."
| The three men and little Amelia
! stayed at the camp for three or four
weeks, but the bitter loss and sad
memories made life well nigh unendur-
able. and at last it was agreed to go
back to Yuma and from there to some
other point far away from the grief
stricken district. So, packing the mules
and mounting their ponies, they began
their long and wearisome Journey.
Now and then they met prospectors.
COW punchers and the like. Each said
that old Geronimo was more than ac-
tive, and that every trail in the cOun-
I