The Montgomery advertiser., 1901-08-23
S.GN OF THE LAST CHANCE

S.GN OF THE LAST CHANGE human Mestcott was in that self same Quanoary wherein so many pet .er .ne,.. anu worse. nave so oIten been oetore and since. and wll be again. wniie mans passions endure anu the miiiinenius as still at the far end of the rainoow. As for Mary Crittenden, sne couio go 10 - well, she could ku iier way. and owell m single plesseu- ness with her prioe and her stubborn ness-ner malignant oostlnacy, wnlcn refused either to admit or to perceive that a man Is a man after all and that when he sets his foot down stoutiy and says he must have his own way and be hls own boss and do quite as he likes. no matter wno says him nay. why. then. no one must inter fere. no one. not even if that man Is Truman Westcott and the woman in the case Is Mary Crittenden, who has promised to marry him. as all. Palm CTS Crossing knows. and hwho loves him deeply. which is more-and this Truman Westcott himself knows. bet ter than any one else in all the world, unless indeed it be Mary.
 In the days when hardy seekers of fortune and adventure nailed to the mastheads of their prairie schooners the indomitable legend ''Pikes Peak or Bust" Palmer's Crossing had been the scene of potential activities. It was there that the freighters and treasure seekers filled their wagons with the last stores purchasable east of the Rockies. and after crossing the swift Missouri to the rich bottom lands of virgin Kansas bid goodby to the big ferry which seemed like the last link of civilization and plunged hope fully along the trail which pointed its dusty fingers to the golden wests It was there that old Jasper Westcott had laid deep the honorable founda- tions of his future luxury. When the war began he closed his warehouse on the levee. buried in his orchards on the hill the gold he had wrung from countless fiitches of bacon, sacks of flour and meal, barrels of salt pork, hogsheads of c sugar and innumerable demijohns of whisky. There was a huge iron kettle full of gold and if old Jasper had cared to carry 1t to the bank at St. Joe or the bank at Platte City the bankers would have agreed to pay him 10 per cent. per an- mum for the privilege of keeping 1t for him. The roots of his favorite apple tree didn't offer Jasper any interest at all. but when the war smoke had drifted away from the shifting banks of the river and when the outlaw bands who had robbed and murdered along the border in uniforms both blue and gray, and in no uniforms what ever had been either shot or hanged or had run away. the canny old trader dug up his deposit and found no single gold piece missing. There were 2.000 big double eagles and 1000 shining eagles in the lot, and Jasper Westcott had earned every dollar of 1t twice over. One night in '63 a half dozen men in masks had ridden to his door haled him from his bed. bound him in 6 chair. and slowly toasted the soles of his feet before his own fireplace logs. After that he walked with crutches. But the grim old man didn't tell where his money lay. and the night riders went away with empty hands. cursinR most painfully. after their leader had falled the bound man with Q blow in the face from the butt of his Colts six shooter.
 The ruffians might have stayed long CT and old Jasper might have fared worse but that the spoilers and their prey were rended by the dash of a rescuing party led by Col. Crittenden Westcott's nearest neighbor. to whom some wind had borne news of the
  with a squad of cavalrymen across the Platte river. capturing two. who were summarily hanged. as a penalty for not being better mounted.
 So 1t came about that the trader and the aristocrat became friends as we'll as neighbors. They watched together the slow knitting of the new Union and the rebuilding of the desolated border land. Crittenden was land poor. The scores of slaves who had planted and broken his hemp, hood aud garnered his corn. housed his fruit and put his wheat in barn, had felt their kindly shackles drop away. and were gone out into a ruder world to hunt a harder living in freedom. Vest colt had no land but his little orchard OH the hill. but he did have his $50.o00 in hard gold, a colossal fortune. The starving Confederate colonel and the acreless tradesman swore perpet- ual amity. and divided their spells. The merchant became a gentleman farmer. Tho planter. for the first time in hls life. became a man of business, his own overseer, and knew himself how much was his balance at the bank, how much his consignees owed him for his shipments of sleek cattle and fat tened swine.
 Thus having divided their fortunes. these two widowers would fain> have seen them reunited-but nature had denied these. Each had only one child, son. Their fathers would sit in the long summer evenings upon the col umned verandah of Col Crittenden's stately home. crowning the bluff over- looking the black bottom lands of the winding Missouri at their feet, and fling regrets at their unhappy condi- ton.
 If only Jasper had been a girl" the colonel would murmur, with a sigh.
 Yes. or if Francis could have beeen named Frances" Westcott would an- swer
 Then both would laugh dolefully.
 Palmer's Crossing fell into innocu- ous desuetude at their feet. as they