The Savannah morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1900-current, 1903-09-27
CHAPTER XIII Continued,


But on the evening of the third day
he drove into town, with the stoop out
of his shoulders and the lustre back in
his eyes He was haggard, gray, dusty,
but he had solved his puzzle, and one
thing was clear in his mind as the
thing that he would do. He patted the
old horse a hearty farewell as he left
him with the liveryman from whom he
had hired him. and strobe up Main
street with the air Of a man who is
going somewhere. 1t was late, but
there were more lights than usual IN
the windows and more people on the
streets. Boys ran shouting, while here
and there, knots of men argued loudly
and in front of the little corner drug
store a noisily talkative, widely gesticu-
lative crowd of fifty or more had gain
cred. An old man, cobbler, VINO had
left leg at Tippecanoe and replaced
il with a wooden one, chaStely deco
rated with designs of his own carving,
came stumping excitedly down the mid
die Of 1he street, where he walked for
fear of the cracks in the wooden pave
ment, which were dangerous to his art
leg when he came from the Rouen
House bar, as on the present occasion.
He hailed Tom by name.
You're the lad, Tom NanreVel ne
shouted. You're the man TO lead the
boys out for the glory of the state! You
git the whole blame fire department out
and enlist 'em before morning. TAKE
'em down TO the Rio Grande, you hear
me? And you needn't be afraid of their
putin it out, if it ketches atre,
neither!'
Tom waved his hands and passed on,
but at the open door of the Catholic
Church he stopped and looked up and
down the street and then, unnoticed,
entered to the dim interior, where the
few candles showed only bent old
woman in black kneeling at the altar.
Tom knew where Elizabeth Carewe
knelt each morning; he stepped softly
through the shadowy silence to her
place. kneIt and rested his head upon
the rail of the bench before him.
The figure at the altar raised itself
after "a time, and the old woman limp
ed slowly up a side aisle. mumhling her
formulas, courtesying to the painted
saints, on her way out. The very thin
nest lingerings of insense hung on the
air. seeming to Tom like the faint odor
that might exhale from a heavy wreath
of narguerites worn in dark-brown
hair. Yet, the place held nothing but
peace and good will. And he found
nothing else in his own heart.
The street was quiet When ne emery
ed from that lorn vigil; the corner
groups had dissolved; shouting youth;
no longer patrolled the sidewalks. Only
one quarter showed signs of life; the
little club house, where the windows
still shown brightly, and whence CANT
the sound of many voices settling thu
destinies of the United States of Amer
lea. Thither Tom bent his steps
thoughtfully, and with a quiet mind
There was a small veranda at the sid
of the house; here he stood unobservet
to look in upon his noisy and agitateC
friends.
They were all there, from the OLE
General and Mr.. Bareaud, to the lat
ter's son, jefferson, and young Franl
Chenoweth. They were gathered abou
a big table upon which stood punch
bowl, and Trumble, his brow as angr,
red as the liquor in the cup he held
was proposing a health to the PreSiden
in voice of fury.
'.In spite of all the Crailey Grays ant
traitors this side of hell" he finishes
politely.
Crailey emerged instantaneously from
the general throng and mounted
chair, tossing his light hair back from
his forehead, his eyes sparkling ant
happy you find your own friends al
ready occupying the place you men
toned, do you, General?" he asked.
Gen. Trumble stamped and shook hi
fist. You're a spawn of Aaron Burr
he vociferated. There's not a maj
here TO stand by your internal doc
trines. You sneer at your own state
you sneer at your own country, Vol
defle the sacred ground! What ar