Western Kansas world. [volume] (WaKeeney, Kan.) 1885-current, 1900-12-08


silence of the purple haze of an Indian
summer High in the air a hawk
wheeled in great, graceful circles and
screamed shrill greetings to its mate
From the forest on either side of the
road could be heard the rustling of the
leaves as they dropped softly to their
resting place upon the ground
squirrel barked from nearby tree, and
in the midst of a deserted old field
quail was whistling merrily. On the
mountain side in the clearings the
sumac and the golden rod cleaned
gaudily from among the somber gray
of drying grasses and weeds. Among
the trees the gay banners of autumn
Haunted among the duller. colors of the
leaves already dead. In the under
brush the crickets sung sad requiem
for the season just drawing to close
"a chant for the dying summer. The
sky was blue, deep turquoise. such as
only the skies in a mountainous coun-
try show in November. All nature
was gorgeous in crimson and yellow
and gold, as though dressed for the
final review of summers glories.
Only one more mile, Every stone
and tree was now familiar to him,
every turn and brook was fraught with
some happy remembrance. His heart
began to beat wildly. Would she meet
him at the gate, and be glad to see
him? She had told him she would,
when she last came to the prison, years
before. OF course she woodland the
children, they void run to meet him
and kiss him as they did in the olden
days.
1t was just around the turn, only
few steps further, and he would see the
little home with its vine-clad piazza,
and the flowers growing in the yard,
and-her standing at the gate, waiting
For fifteen years he had longed for this
moment, and now that it had come,
he dared not go around the bend OF
the road-his heart was torn with
doubts and fears.
He sat down to rest and collect his
thoughts. He was faint and sick, he
had eaten nothing all day and the long
walk up to mountain had almost ex-
hausted him. Pulling all his energies
together, he staggered around the bend
of the road. He was afraid to raise his
eyes until he had reached the gate.
Then he did SO.
There was no house there.
tangled thicket of blackberry briars
and bushes and decaying weeds. He
leaned against a fence post and in a
dazed sort of way tried to understand.
The house was but a pile of rotting
logs, the fences were gone and his
family-God only knew where they
were. He staggered to the waste OF
weeds and briars and sat down on the
nf ha
a doorstep.
The afternoon waned and the shad-
ows grew long. The sunlight came
slantingly down and gilded and glori-
fed everything it touched A rabbit
hoped timidly near and Sazed at the
silent, bowed figure in tremulous won
derment. A lizard lay upon one of the
logs of the house, and basked its gilt
tering sides in the mellow rays of the
sun. Longer and longer grew the
shadows, and at last the god of day
sunk down beyond the western noun
tain tops. Night slowly crept over
earth, and the moon rose in autumnal
brightness and threw Its rays upon the
lonely figure sitting with bowed head
amid the gloomy ruins of a former
home. A whip-poor-will began to sing
| it's lonely song from a distant hilltop,
| and an owl hooted ENORMOUSLY from a
nearby thicket-
At last the man arose. There was a
| little stunted marigold growing near
| the doorstep. He picked one or two OF
| the blossoms and put them in his
| bosom, and as he bent over the stone
where he had been sitting tear
| dropped from his eyes and FLASHED
| upon the insensate rock. He gave one
more look at the ruins, and then start
| ed down the mountain. On and on he
went, never stopping, never looking
back
| Through it he passed, never once turn
| ing his head. When the moon was
| hanging like a silver globe in the far,
wan west, a railroad train came rush.
| ing through the darkness like some
| fiery serpent, and stopped a moment at
the little station. A black figure got
aboard and took a seat in a dim cor
ner of the car.
At last the train arrived in the city.
The figure skunk away through the
| gray dawn toward the prison. The
warden was awakened by a faint
pounding upon the grim door. He
went down and opened it A man lay
| prone upon the doorstep.
Who are your" asked the warden.
Il am Number Twenty-three. Take
me in again, for have no other home %
Thfrty-Nfne "Art,cIes-