The Irish standard., 1904-08-27

BIT. he began, arSumentatively,
F, "Nlrs. Potter's right about it bein' too
lonesome Tor you to stay here when
I'm OUT in the hills. 1t is mighty lone.
some for little girl like you. You
better let me take you over to-mor-
row." She shook her head until her
misty hair flew out like an aureole.
Who'd keep house for you?" she
asked. as if that question settled the
whole matter.
He laughed weakly. "You do take
pretty good care of your dad, don't
you? And you're all the housekeeper
he's had for good spell now"
"Since ma went to heaven" said the
child, gravely.
He started and looked at her Gu
riously.
"Who told you that?" he said al
most roughly.
Told me what?"
She was looking at the fire intently.
and had half-absorped expression.
"That ma went to heaven? Oh, she
told me herself, before she went, and
she made me promise I'd come, too.
She told me all about the angels and
God and everything. She said the an
gels was all around, every place, and
! since she died l know it's true, cause
I've seen 'em. There's one right there
in the fire now. I've been seeing it
ever so long. A little baby angel with
it's wings spread out to fly. See, pa?
Right there, in the middle of the
brightest-see?"
NO" said the man, slowly, Fl can't
quite make it out" Suddenly he
started.
whats that?"
"Nothin' but a coyote" derisively.
"You amt afraid of coyote?"
"No," he said, putting her down
from his knee, II amt, but thought
l heard something else, horse snort
in, maybe"
He opened the door and looked out.
Three men on horseback confronted
him. He was covered instantly.
We're onto you," said one, lacon-
1cally, "say your prayers"
He grew pale beneath the bronze.
but he faced them resolutely, and
|
What does this mean, men?" he
said. What have 1 done?"
The leader laughed grimly.
when a mans too handy with his
brandin' irons he's apt to run up
against trouble some day. You've got
about two minutes to make your last
will and testament"
| His troubled ovo y,,o1,od fn1x. .~n
to another of his menacing foes, SEEK
ing in vain for the pity he never would
have asked for himself. The child
had crept to his side, and looked won
deringly and with terror upon the
three strangers.
At last, after a minute as long as
years, he spoke stumblingly, as if
words Of entreaty came hardly to his
lips.
"You have homes, men, and little
ones, maybe. Think Of the child, and
have mercy" He caught her up sud-
denly and held her before them.
Startled by the sudden movement
the big gray reared and paved the air.
There was a sharp report and shrill
scream through the stiffness of the
valley; then the father stood looking
stupidity at the limp and senseless
thing he held in his arms, and tie
swift red stream that dyed his shirt
sleeve.
The big gray had bolted, and after
a moment Of Mortified waiting the two
who were left wheeled their horses and
rode away through the night, with the
childs scream ever pursuing them,
leaving the outcast alone with his
dead.
The sun climbed UP over the high
bluff and looked down on the green val.
ley where the one tree stood by the low
log house. Under the tree man was
STOPPING over little mound by the
side Of long one, patting it softly ant
babbing to himself about his baby
and the little angel in the fire. Afte!
awhile he wandered away hatless ant
coatless toward the mountain.
No one lives in the house in the val.
ley. They say that when the moon ii
full fire leaps upon the deserted hearth
and filings ruddy glow through the
windows, and he who listens may pres
emily hear the shrill scream of child
and the clatter of fleeing horseme1
across the mesa But others say it i!
myth, and one can see nothing bu
the moonlight reflected from the win
dows, and hear nothing save the dis
NAL and lOng.draWn cry of A cnyota