Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1901-04-23
CHAPTER XIV.

she contemplated taking on the morrow
But the secret was not wholly her own
and she feared to intrust it to the
chances of the little old maids involun
Iary betrayal. The only person to whom
she could talk frankly about it was Dan
ny, whose cooperation was, to certain
extent, necessary in the plan John haC
formed, and whose willingness to render
1t was simply enthusiastic.
YOU" she said to him, want to ge
down to the bend of the road, by the bis
walnut tree, real early in the morning
and wait there until John comes along il
his cutter. The minute you see him, fire
two shots, close together, just as yor
did to-day. That is all you have to do
And what'll you be doing"
Running for dear life"
Danny reflected and shook his head
obviously.
Gals can't rum" he said contemptu
-Ously, "'cause they wear frocks. Mam'l
catch you, sure, and 1 sort of don't want
70 fill her full Of shot 'thout have to. y
why, Danny! You awful boy. The
idea Of anybody ever wanting you to dc
such a thing"
We'll, didn't I tell you I don't like
to, my self? But, say. I've got the
idea Of what you want. Laudanum, you
know, puts people to sleep. Now, there's
q bottle Of horse Iiniment in the barn,
that's chock full of laudanum. Bill Tay-
Tor says he can smell it; and if we'd
chunk that into mani"
Danny. Oh, you'll surely get yourself
hanged some day. II you don't promise
NE that you will not do anything to moth
or, IN not run away at all. Why, how
do you know but that you might half kill
here, giving her things like that? And
Chen, how would you feel, you wicked
.boy?'
How I'd feel. Well, sorry, s'pose.
But how do you s'pose John'll' feel if
this scheme busts up? He's just dead
set on getting you, though I'm sure
dOn't see why. when he's got the pick
of the gi,ls in the township" ST..
That will do now, Danny. You will
know more about such things when you
get to be older All you have to do now
Is just what John says, and if things
don't turn out right. it will not be your
fault"
Danny did not dispute that proposition,
but it was plain to be seen he took a
gloomy view Of the probable outcome of
a job of mischief not personally engineer
ed by himself and would have been quite
willing to assume the responsibility of
runuing the elOpement in ways that
woOh h4fe been a terror to parents and
guardians
Very little sleep did Hetty Mulveil get
tbat night; not because she was a feather
beaded foOl-girl. half-crazed by the deli
cious excitement Of a prospective elope-
ment, but by reason Of her being a good
sensible one, who realized that she was
about to take 4 very serious .tep-One,
IN all probability, irrevocable and weight
ed with all her life's destiny 1t is not
necessary that an Intelligent. reasoning
maiden shall, under such circumstances,
feel distrust of her lover to set her
gravely bordering upon what may be hid
den behind the veil of the future. He is
but one factor in the problem with which
fate cOnfronts her, though. it must be adj
mitted, a very important one. The wis
est foresight is only good guesswork; in
every darkness danger turks, and love
alone, whatever the poets may say, will
not Tighten the obsCurity of the next hour
of our existence. Fate never ceases
tempting and compelling us. Every mo-
ment of life is fraught with infinite DO
tentialities. and according as we vivify
those moments with earnestness. of pur-
pose and intensity of action, so we wake
those latent forces into active being and
give to their control the helm of our des
tiny.
The girl got into a condition Of merry
GUS wakefulness. with thinking. hoping
and fearing.
Gomez she said to herself at length.
81 shall positively get no sleep at all
and will look like an owl tomorrow, if L
don't drive John and marrying and all
vhat clean out of my head. l wonder
II counting the clock-ticks would put me
to sleep: 1t does some people, I've heard.
One, two. three, four How Strangely
loud they are! Everything sounds loud
or at night, l suppose. l wonder if
Mary Elder knows that she snOres-iust
q little bit? One, two. three l won
der if l snore? And if l do, what will
John say if he ever finds it out? Pshaw,
Why can't | stop thinking about John
One, two Oh, Twelve o'clock, Well
il this isn't the longest night! I Won
der If John is lying awake, too? There
il is again! john john ALWAYS
John. L wonder what makes the light of
50 many colorS? Every time the fire
flares up there is little ribbon. of the
color OF gold, under the door: and the
moonlight on the wall Is as white and
cold as the snow; and the light in Johns
eyes is blue. Bother Johns eyesl wish
I could 80 TO sleep. How can a body
sleep when there are so many noises? I
don't believe there ever were 50 many
noises about this house before Let me
count. There's the clock makes three
kinds; ticking, a wheezy whiz when it's
going 70 strike and striking. Then there
are the cricketS. l don't believe they
make that noise with their hind legs.
whatever the natural history book may
say. And that mouse is gnawing away
sgain. OF course. Danny has forgotten
60 set the trap. Tomorrow night. III
no, won't-I'u be away with John.
There it is. John again. Everything
comes round TO John. Oh. this won't do
at all. One, two, three. four. FIVE, Good
gracious, What crack that was, |
wonder why timber snaps so in cold
weather. John said he had got all the
timber out for q new house. and we
would live at his mothers until it is put
up. l wooder if she will like me. II
she doesn't. l shall be awfully lonesome
when John is not about. One. two. three.
four, five, six"
SO she fought the night through until
the clock struck four, when she thought
she might venture TO set up without as,
tonishing the family too profoundly. Her
dressing had been carefully planned be-
rorehand. The gown would. OF course,
have TO be the ordinary everyday brown
merino. \ better one, such as she would
Aave liked TO wear when going anywhere
with John, would certainly provoke her
mothers vigjlant suspicious. But the old
lady, luckily. woald nOt see with what
care she had dressed underneath, 10 Sc
cure comfort on the long. cold drive be
fore her. Her warmly wadded. fur-trim
med cloak. cherry-rinted knitted hood
white wooden "muffier" thick mitten:
and fur-lined overshOes she rolled in !
tight bundle and hid in q dark cornel
OF the summer kitchen. near the bacl
door. All these preparations had beer
made before Mrs. SIulveil even noticeJ