The National tribune., 1901-11-21

roundabout way, goin' and comm, to
keep the other chaps from pipin' me off.
| found I'd struck color like a paint-shop.
| took out just enough to meet my eI-
penseS on journey East, melted it down
in big log fire, and then started back to
lnJianny, to give it to my poor old mann
my, who | hadn't seen since L went away,
and who I'd resolved should have the first
benefit o my good luck. She lives up near
Kokomo, and I'm on my way there now"
I'm mighty glad to hear of your luck"
murmured the Deacon. "The Lord usual
ly helps those who deserve it."
Il noticed you as soon as you come in,
and made up my mind to speak to you,"
continued the man. "You look like q man
of my mine, and there's just tons Of it
there"
He pulled out of his pocket a shining
nugget, about as big as baby's fist.
My gracious exclaimed the Deacon,
isn't that beauty"
Yes; she's daisy. And there's dead
oodlins more where she come from.
There's 81 900 worth in that chunk in ac-
tual pennyweights. Now, I'll tell you
what l want. l need 500 to get home
on, and buy some things for my mother
that l know she needs. l want you TO
take this and let me have S100, which III
send back TO you as soon as | reach 10
raise the money. You take my name and
address, and let me have yours. | know
can trust you. | knowed it just as soon
as | see you come into the car. I've bin
looking for long time for just sich a
man, but you're the first one that l could
place confidence in"
The Deacon took the heavy nugget in
his hand and turned it over admiringly.
Hist Be CAREFUL Don't let nobody
see it," said the other, pulling a paper out
of his pocket. and holding it up in the atti-
tude of reading, to vail the nugget in the
Deacon's hand. by the way, that's great
news about old Sherman. amt itP
What's the news about ShermanW
asked the Deacon, fierce suspicion fash
ing into his mind.
Why, Beauregard and Bragg and Har
dee have got him cooped up in Georgia
swamp, and he's asked for terms, ana
they've said to him that the only terms
Donelson. Things turn about queer, don't
thew"
The Deacon turned his gaze from the
nugget to the man at his side. He no.
ticed first that the paper he was holding
up was Brick Pomeroy's odious sheet,
which was enough for the Deacon. but he
went on in his scanning. and discovered
that the mans hands, though not clean,
were soft and bore no labOr-marks. His
neck and face had no signs of weather.
tanning, and his boots were neatly fitting
and well-pOlished.
The man fidgeted so as he perceived the
Deacon taking in one of these details af-
ter another, with his steady, searching
gaze, that confirmed the Deacon's belief.
MY friend" said the Deacon, studying
the nugget with renewed interest, I'm
very much obliged to you for showing me
this. I've been reading so much about
gold bricks in the papers that I've got
operator. So, you're one. Well, you've |
got yourself up in good shape, and tell |
very convincing story. I'd like to stay |
longer with you, but I'm afraid that you
have added pocket-picking to your other |
accomplishments, and I'll be safer in an |
other car. III bid you good-day. Re
member me to your mother in KokOmo" |
He went into the rear car, and took his !
seat by the side of droyer-looking man.
II know a hog-drover's tricks from the
start" he said to himself. Il know what
I've got to expect from him, and SO L
needn't bother"
He recognized the droyer as one Sol.
Withers, with whom he had a slight ac
quaintance, and rather regarded him as
Copperhead, though he remembered that
on one or two occasions when he had met
him. Sol had seemed to know where the
laugh came in" in the heated discussions
that were going on around. The two i'm
OF the prices of hogs and cattle, and the
prospects for further advances, when Sol
asked abruptly:
Say, did you hear the news from Sher-
man."
This was the alst straw on the camers
back. The Deacon broke out hotly:
20, you've got it, too, have you? Every
dumbed Copperhead in the country's yap-
ping over Sherman being coOpered up by
Beauregard and Bragg and Hardee. and
talking about unconditional surrender.
Their faces are all a yard wide over the
good news. And they're all trying to ;
swindle me, somehow. | suppose you've {
got bogus shipping bill to sell me, or
package o greenbacks that you can't tell
from the genuine. Singler that every con-
demned COpperhead who's got education
enough to spell b-a-k-e-r-baker, is a
plaguey Peter Funk O. some kind. Whatve ;
you got to work off on me? Out with it."
Sol Withers looked at him in astonish-
ment.
"Why, Mr.. Klegg. where in the world
did you ever git the idee that | was n {
Copperhead? There hain't sitter Union ,