The Virginia enterprise. [volume] (Virginia, St. Louis County, Minn.) 1893-19??, 1903-11-20


yours while you !, M yself. 81
must leave yo,a. : I'll my servant
e me tA6 = pom wants mo II
tt chhrch having Vall1 Tar over Tia
hills to gfe. hi Gu I'd CHI stan burial
Carried itshei inllsstelf p .aueried
the Americana. fastidiously 3f5s@.
s. : Yes. Oh, yes. They bring their
dead to me on rough litters or laid IA
an open box. but they always brinx
them. / must leave you, Senior MARI
den;;t command my servant. . 2
Marsden watched him trudeine
sturdily over to the church, saw the
speon arise with weary but reveranf
gesture, and take up the little paste-
board box in one hand. y h IS i
:. Then, because his; shoulder still
.ached from the attentions OF Senior
Gonzales, he rubbed it resentfully and
rolled . cigarette wherewith to console
himself. - q -c=.2's ~ e ~ &. .s5..
Poor little beggar,'' he muttered. at
can't be much bigger than. kitten. il
1t goes in that box. What q queer.
CHASTITY. performance it is, this taking
your own dead in your arms and carry
ing them miles for burial, only to have
some vandal dig them UP in few
months if you don't pay your grave
rent. They have queer practices here
in our new possessions, bug suppose
the poor devils think they are happy.
l might step over and see it through.
Hang that brute, but am sore!''
He wandered languidly over, slipping
quietly in the church door md stand
ing back in the shadow that his in
trusion might not be observed and re-
sented by the poor wretch in 'front.'
From where the American stood he
could see the idless pasteboard box
as it lay before the altar, and the tiny
occupant with his crossed hands and
the slowly whiting q flowers in hiz
fingers. The light of the candles paled
before a slender shaft Of sunshine
striking down from a window and
cleaning across the poems face when
ever he raised his B., head. Marsden'e
eyes wandered slowly from peon tc
child, from child to priest, and back
again to the man who had carried his
son over the hills in the early morn.
ing, to give him the last rites of hi.
church.. Then he slipped out again,
as quietly as" he had entered, and was
leaning over the rough wall Of the
cemetery when the peon came out.
They had queer fascination for
him, these cemeteries of Spanish
America. He frowned musingly as his
eyes wandered to the corners of the
enclosure, where lay the bones of the
eyicted dead, dug coolly from. their
graves and flung here as refuse, be-
cause their grave rental was past due.
:, Savage CUSTOM" Marsden muttered.
and forgot the dishonored bones as the
peon: came again into his line of
visioh He limped slightly, and
stopped as though years of toll had
bent and stiffened him, as he went
toward the little stone building at the
end of the cemetery, scarcely to be
termed receiving vault, being barren
of everything save four walls and a
roof, and in which the dead were thrust
until there were enough Of them to
bury at once ss-,. i:
When he came out, leaving the
f!ower-wreathed box behind him, the
American barred his path, staring at
him curiously.
Good morning, my friend. It &C.
ours to me that you have considerable
nerve"
Like flash the weary stoop van
ished, and the limping peon was tall
half-breed with scowling brow, erect
and muscular.
''Senor Americano!" he responded,
jauntily, and squared his shoulders
in cool defiance, but the CLEAN in his
eyes was not pleasant as he took in
the probable chances of escape or CAP
ture. A group of men were coming
down the road; the padre was just
leaving the church door.
"Why did you do it," Marsden
asked, steadily. "
'Why not, senior? Is tho son of
brigand to be thrown out on the hill
side, like a dog?"
He shrugged his shoulders insolent-
y, OUI AID Ae@A AO"AuS eyes were meas
uring the distance between himself
and the Americana, and again to the
group of men who walked between him
and the hills.
you were fortunate to escape sc.
nor. Where Pedro Gonzales strikes he
also kills, that no man may point to
him and say, That man is Pedro Con-
zales, the robber.'"
The Americana gave no attention.
He was rubbing his shoulder thought
fully, and looking beyond at the little
stone house of the dead. The woman.
voice was insistently in his ears. He
guessed now for what she had been
pleading, and what had lain on the
bed in the dark corner. He turned his
gaze back to the half-breed as though
he were studying some curious
psychological phenomenon.
II think you'd better be going" h.
suggested, casually. grim smile pull
ing at the corners of his mouth. 1.-THE
climate of the valley is not healthy
for persons accustomed to dryer air,
;o11