The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1903-09-24
THE PRINCETON .UNION THURSDAY, sEPTEMBER o. zoos

o money from you you'll never smell
a breath O fresh air or see natural
| daylight ...-~
"You mean to kill helpless MANI"
The words were like prayer.
I'D bottle you up heer to de-" said
Pole Baker firmly. you've met me
in this lonely spot, an no man could
lay yore end to ME. In fact. all that
know you would swear you'd run off
from the folks you've defrauded. You
see, nothin' but that money O. Alan
Bishops kin possibly save you. You
know that well enough, an thar ain't
a bit O use palaverin' about it. I've
fetched pen an ink an paper. an
you've got to write me an order fer
the money. If l have to go as fur off
as Atlanta, I'll take the fust train an
go after it. If I git the money. Won
git out; eft l don't, you won't see me
agln nur nobody else till you face wore
| Maker
Craig bent over his knees and
groaned.
"9ou think I have money" he said,
Strengthening up: ooh, my God!'
II know it," said Pole. 81 don't
think anything about it know it."
| He took out the pen and ink from his
pants pocket and unfolded a sheet of
paper. "Git to work. he said. "You
needn't try to turn me, YOU burned old
hog!'
Craig raised pair of wide open.
helpless eyes to the rigid face above
! him.
"Oh, my God"' he said again.
you let God alone an git down to
business said Pole, taking a fresh
hold Of the handle of his weapon.
I'm not goin' to waste time with YOU.
Either you git me Alan Bishops money
or you'll die. Hurry up:'
| Twill you keep faith with me-if-
| if"-
! Yes, durn you, why wouldn't r.
A CLEAN of triumph flashed in the out
| laws eyes.
| The eX-banker had taken the pen
and Pole spread out the sheet of paper
on his knee
| what assurance have II" STAN.
mered Craig, his face like death mask
against the rock behind him. "You
see, after you got the money, you
might think it safer to leave me here,
thinking that would prosecute you.
wouldn't, as God is my judge, but
you might be afraid"-
| I'm not afraid O. nothin','' said
Pole. "Old man, you couldn't handle
me without putin yoreself in Jail fer
the rest O yore life. That orders
a-goin' to be proof that you have money
when you've swore publicly that you
didn't. No; when. Pm paid back Alan
Bishops money I'll let you go. don't
want to kill man fer jest tryin' to
steal an not maxim the riftle.''
| The logic struck home. The warmth
OF hope diffused itself over the gaunt
form.
''Then I'll write a note to my wife,"
he said.
| Pole reached for one of the torches
and held it near the paper.
well, I'm glad Il won't have to go
furder n Darley," he said. ut I'll be
better fer both Of U.S. BY ridin' peert
can let you out before SHUTDOWN. You
may git late supper at barley, but
It's sight better n gittin' none heer
an no bed to speak off,
I'm putting my life in your hands,
Baker, said Craig, and with an un-
steady hand he began to write.
Hold on thar" said Pole you'll
know the best way to write to her, but
| 20.
you to say the $4,000 deposited in the
bank by the Bishops. You see, I'm not
goln' to tote no order fer money l
haln't no right to. An I'll tell you an
other thing, old man, you needn't throw
out no hint to her to have me arrested
AS God is my final judge, eff I'm tuck
up fer this, they'll never make me tell
Whar you are. I'd wait until you'd
pegged out, anyway"
Pm not setting any trap for you,
Baker, whined Craig you've got the
longest head of any man I ever knew.
You've got me in your power, and all I
can ask Of you is my life. I've got
Bishops money hidden in my house.
am willing to restore it if you will re-
| -N~~0~ AAAN'
that will cause her to give it to you.
Isn't that fair?''
"Thats all I want" said Pole. "An'
I'll say this to you: I'll agree to use my
influence with Alan Bishop not to ham
die you by law; but the best thing fer
you an yore family to do is to shake
the dirt of barley offn yore feet an
seek fresh pastures These round heer
amt as green, in one way, as some I've
seed.''
Craig wrote the note and handed it
up to Baker. Pole read it slowly and
then said: "You mought "a axed 'er
to excuse bad writin' an spellin', an
hopin' these few lines will find you en-
joyin' the same blessin's; but eff it gifts
the Doodle that's all want. Now you
keep yore shirt on, an don't git skeerd
O the darkness. It will be as black as
pitch, an you kin heer yore eyelids