The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1900-09-09

ram, ana the me weather. N the SNOW
at dawn. at dark.
There was no need to open his eyes
until he came to the gate The mules
would keen the road of their own mo-
tioTi-besideS he could drive there if it
were black dark and himself stone
blind. They must be coming on to the
/ big rock now. The road made a sharp
| turn there-he drew a little on the near
rein, and smiled to feel the wagon
swing without the least jar.
Suddenly the mules snorted, stopping
in their tracks Jimmy was almost
pitched upon their backs AS he
scrambled upright he heard a crack
ling, kissing noise-a 8hot red flare
struck him with the sting of a lash. He
! stared a minute, uncomDrehending,
| then fell back, moaning and covering
his eyes. Flames leaped. licking, dart
| ing, from every window of his house.
The roof was smoking furiously. In
another minute the fire would break
IN the outhOuses- Abshire watched
! them. his hands in his pockets, a faint
gratified smile about his lips.
The mules backed and trembled, and
even reared a little, but Jimmy drove
/ them relentlessly forward. The road
was so narrow he must drive into the
! lot before he could turn. Abshire
/ stood at the gate of it. He started at
sight of Jimmy Left anything?" he
| asked I hope It was nothing of con-
sequence. You see. I'm about making
a clean sweep"
Pillars of fire shot up from the house,
painting all the dull valley with their
own scarlet glow. They were so fierce
/ the wind s4--rce could bend them even
at the tip, and make of them flaming
/ banners N the sky. The house was
| tinder-dry, and burned with a roar
| like that of a hurricane. 1t reused FL
lens number senses. She struggled up
| TO her knees, looking wildly about her
/ then with a scream Ieaped to the
| ground and darted toward the door,
/ shrieking, My babyi My little baby!
| Have you left it there to burn?''
Jimmy held her. struggling and pant
| ing. THE baby died-and she went
| out of her head he said to Abshire
| DULY Il fetched her back-I thought
It might help her-and that maybe
| you"
1T was foolish. and perfectly use
| less" Adshire said, irrita bly,. "See
| here. Dawson, can't you understand
| You--this house-was in my way.
! determined to buy and burn it as soon
as l began building. You can easily
find better one. you have still some
money"
| Excuse my comm, Mr.. Abshirer'
| Jimmy said, lifting his wife into the
| wagon as he spoke. ut was foolish.
| ought 70 a-known you could not be
made to see there's things in this world
| money can't either buv, or do"
| The roof fell in as he spoke send
! ing showers of sparks and flaming
! brands far around One of the brands
| fell upon Dawson's bare hand. burning
! 1t slightly. Another struck Abshire on
| the cheek. but glanced off harmless.
] Ellen had grown quiet, looking about
/ her with frightened eyes. She gazed
| at AbshsTa vacantiy, then said as
| though speaking to something unseen:
| You say, he shall be burned yet-and
with fire of mis- own making
1t was only a mad woman's raving.
| But long after the wagon had rumbled
| out of sight, when all the fires had
| sunk to glimmering banks of Goals
/ Abshire, walking home at the head of
| his hired men, shivered, as though
stricken with deadly cold.
Abshire was Just Jimmy Dawson's
| age-21-but he had made the greater
/ part of his big fortune He was not a
native. He had been drawn to the
| county by the mineral riches of dis
| trict lying something deeper in the
| hills. He had bought the lands for
| song, then set up mines and furnaces
/ upon them. Mysterious transactions
| vaguely spoken of as deals, had taken
; them off his hands, leaving him a clear
| million, magnificently invested. Then
he had decided to go in for the life of
/ a country gentleman. He owned al
| ready all the land at the head of the
valley. There ne built a big gray
| stone house, sheltered, yet airy. made
4
and gardens and vineyards.
He was gracious to everybody
when once he was rid of the
| Dawsons- They did not prove trouble
! some-even as a memory. He heard
vaguely that they had gone away.
! Some said Ellen had come back to her
self others that she was still Eighty
All agreed that Jimmy would take
| excellent care of her-and since she
was not Went. it was well he had her
1 to care for. Abshire listened with ex-
| actly the proper degree of sympathy
| The speakers decided he could not have
anything on his cOnscience-he never
/ made the least effort to change the
! conversation. The truth was he was
| bent on proving to himself that ne
had not. In that as in most other
things he had great success.
Still. when he began playing at poll
| tics, he kept rather out Ff sight He
| made the party States naming Judges
| congressman and such like, and pulling
the wires whereby his puppets should
| put them through. Place honors for
! himself he put aside. The leaders de-
cided in their inner minds that he was
| either very disintereSted or very am
| bilious. 1t might be he played for the
game, not the stakes. It might be also
| he aimed at the highest things so did
not wish to make himself cheap and
| hackneyed as a holder of those less
exalted.
He was a bachelor. His mother and
/ a bevy of orphan nieces kept house for
him. 1t was open house the year round,
and came easily to be the. center of
/ things social and things political in
| that part OF the country. He had fine
parties indoors for his specially chosen
friends, and barbecues, lawn dances
and so on for his friends and the coun-
| ty beside.
Something mOmentouS happened at
one of the dawn parties. Abshire pro
posed to Margaret Weyth. She looked
up at him, cOloring family, and said.
with the least hard breath: 81 will
marry you-when you are governor of
the state" Then she ran away She
was proud and ambitiOus-mOre am
bilious for him than even for herself
She wanted him to show the world
what a man he truly was. Then, too.
she pinned for distinction. She had been
merely rich all her life.
All that was in August, a year be-
fore convention time. Election came
| two months later, but the voting was
| a mere formality. Two weeks after
the lawn party the founty paper far
/ thest away from the gray house spent
! a column in proving Mr.. Abshire's fit
ness to be governor. The next week
! two other remote county Weeklies look
ing into the future. saw Captain Abb