Greene County herald. (Leakesville, Miss.) 1898-current, 1904-01-22

thing" he muttered, looking down at
the baby, his eyes ~softening; seems
to enjoy it," The baby's eyes were
half closed, and its chubby hands wan
dered around caressingly. One slipped
from sight through Hardin's open
shirt, the other clutched the shaggy
beard. He bent his head forward
painfully, not wishing to loosen the
baby's hold, and found himself yield
ing to a strange, tender feeling that
crept over him at the pressure of its
fingers and its warmth against his
arm. 1t slowly relaxed it's hold on his
finger, then dropped to sleep. Hardin
remained motionless, watching the
rhythmic rise and fall of it's bosom and
the play of color on its face. 1t
smiled.
"Dreamin' of angels" he mumbled,.
his face suddenly becoming sober. al
Iost sad, as memory leaped the gulf
of years and he vas a boy again. dang
ling at his mothers knee, teasing her
to let him hold the baby's hand, to
look into its face. EFF 1 could jest be-
gin owe ag'in, er had jest aided when
Iz a baby he continued in bitter
speculation. II know It amt like a
man to try an shift yer faults on some
one else, but it might "a been different
if Belle hadn' throwed me over fer
that worthless Armstrong. Wimin are
strange critters-a few fine clothes. an
fine manners, an fine talk tutches the
best of 'em. Then he 'uz from the city
an Iz jest a common, rough cowboy
but l guess maybe it's best fer Belle,
after all, seein' what I've been driv'
to. But somehow l feel it might "a
been different. I loved Belle, an
peered like I couldn' STAN to see her
marry Armstrong, KNOWN him as 1
did; but she wouldn't believe me, an
| got reckless-an'-an' I jest can't git
it straight how it did happen. Wells
| remember, he Situated Belle wasn't
all right, an they say l killed i'm.
Maybe I did. I know I got mixed ND
in the shootin' with the others. Since
that day they've kept me on the dodge,
an a Teller has to live-an' the stage
PoSSAh 0f0AJ ddt IlSAI 1OIt my etGS.
Well, it 'uz dead easy, but it's risky,
an eff / can jest slip crost the river,
I'm goin' to begin over, an eff they'll
let me alone, nobody amt goin' to be
loser in the end. But a Teller has to
live-but blast mer' he broke off
abruptly; awhat am I goin' to do with
the kid? Can't leave it, can't take it
along, an to stop yere means to be
run in, shore. These hifls'H be swarm
in with searehers 500 as they miss it.
Blamed fool fer techin' it; none of my
business eff a lazy Mexican nurse let's
somebody's baby drap often the stage.
But, darn me, I'm most glad I fetched
it along-gritty little cuss. Who'd "a
thought he'd behave so well, maxim a
meal often one dirty finger and no COM
plainin'? Wonder whose he could be-"
he queried, placing it. on the coat and
beginning to search it's clothes for
some identifying marks. "I've a mind
to take it along" he unused after a lit
tie; ''keeps a Teller from gittin' so etar-
nally lonesome, an I've got nine fresh
fingers we're yet. Eff Belle hadn't
been SO tickle might "a had one of my
own bout its size. Pshaw! I'm a jib-
bering fool, goin' OF any sech way
well, we're it is. Hello! IS. A. / won
der what that can stan fer. Never
knOwed n%obody's name that begin
with A but Jim Andrews an that
ornery Armstrong, an Jim amt never
"a Vr;ol fowso 7 l~rOxrv rsoolroD ~ oo,,1l~,+
be his; am jest as likely his as Arm
strong's. Well, II things. shore, I'll
have to git outen this somehow" He
rose and stepped to the edge of the
rocks.
Hands up. Sam Hardin said 10
Powell, the Duval County Sheriff. He
stood less than ten yards off, his Win
chester leveled at the outlaw.
II reckon I'll have to, Powell" re-
turned Hardin, coolly, "sein' as we've
got the drop on me;~but L ealkerlate
We ought to divide up with this young
un we're, SEM eff it hadn't been fer it
ye'd never tuck me alive"
81 amt carin' fer the reward, Har-
din. an I'm sorry | have to take you,"
returned the sheriff, amicably. "Hadn'
been fer yer hold-up. ye might "a gone
free; ain't-no proofs yer killed Arm
strong. 1t 'uz a free-fer-all fight: the
witnesses weren't shore bout nothin',
an ye'd likely "a come clear. Tried
to git word to you, but We Kept yerself
so scarce, IN a Teller had no manner of
chance. I'll have to hold you; hate to.
but it's my duty, We know"
"Whose baby is it," asked Hardin
irrelevantly, as the Sheriff relieved him
of his pistols.
Belongs TO a young widow name
Armstrong. Her husband got killed a
few weeks ago in a gamblin' place at
Brownsville; she's goin' back to her
folks. She's most crazy. bout her
boy" returned Powell. scanning the
outlaws face searchingly. y
"Folks live at San Diego?' asked the
other. his c~ountenance inscrutable.
Eyes"
II knowed 'em," said Hardin. and
turning his. back slowly to the Sheriff.
he gazed across the yellow plain to-
ward the distant peaks. i
II knowed yer did, returned Powell.
sympathetieally. Then. after 4 ST.
lence. he added: II wish there was
some way I could help you, Hardin"
Much oblige'. Powell. but We can't
unless-you couldn't manage fer me to
see Mi sArmstrong, I reckin q lie
asked, turning.
The Sheriff glanced at his prisoner
qnestioningly. .sFIl bring her to you,
ef-ef yen wait we're with the baby
He did moi wait for a. reply, but, turn
ing. vanished in the brush.
Hardin dropped his chin 10 the palm
of his hand and sat motionless. star
ing ~abstractedly into the hot glare. The
baby at his feet slept soundly, occa-
sionally giving vent to a ~contented'
sigh. A drowsy beetle droned by,
knocking against the wilted folia ZEE.
Over the plain and the white glisfen-
ing spaces brooded q death-like still
ness. Five minutes, ten minutes. half
- fxr4.4 sc anI TT4-4s~ -4-4 ZZL