The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1905-11-05

hollow, rafting the window blinds and
twisting into dull complaint the boughs
Of the leafless trees. Its voice came
chill and cherries into the dusky room, .
where the fire was now glimmering !
near it's death, and the only sounds were /,
those of Gershom g rushing pencil, the
whispering Of Marshall and his friend,
and old Mother Scritcher feebly whim-
pering in her corner. The scene was
sinister. Suddenly, rushing gust blew
the door wide open.
Golyer started to his feet, trembling
in every limb and looking furtively
over his shoulder out into the night. 1
Quickly recovering himself, he turned
to resume his place. But the moment
he dropped Gershom s hand the medium
had dropped his pencil, and had sunk
back in his chair. in deep and death
like slumber. Golyer seized the sheet
of paper, and with the first line that
he read strange and horrible trans
formation was wrought in the man.
His eyes protruded, his teeth chat
tered; he passed his hand over his head
mechanically, and his hair stood up like
the bristles on the back Of a swine in
rage. His face was blotched white and
purple. He looked piteously about him
for moment, then, crumpling the
paper in his hand, cried out in hoarse,
choking voice: eyes, it's a fact; I
done it. 1t g no use denying on It. Here
it is, in black and white. Everybody
knows it; ghosts come spooking around
to tattle about it. What's the use Of
lyings T done it,
He paused, as if struck by q sudden
recollection, then burst into tears and
shook like a tree in high wind. In
a moment he dropped on his knees and
in that posture crawled over to Mar
shall: "Here, Mr.. Marshall-here g
the whole story For Gods sake, spare
my wife and children all you can. Fix
my little property all right for 'em,
and God bless you for it" Even while
, he was speaking, with a quick revulsion
! Of feeling he rose to his feet, with
, certain return Of his natural dignity,
and said: "But they shan It take met
None Of my kin ever died that way;
I've got too much sand in my gizzard
a to be took that way. Good-by, friends
. ALI"
, He walked deliberately out into the
wild, windy night.
\ Marshall glanced hurriedly at the;
y fatal paper in his hand. 1t was full Of
+ that capricious detail with which in
reverie we review scenes that are past.
;. But line here and there clearly enough
told the story-how he went out to
I plant the apple tree; how Susie came
y by and rejected him; how he passed into
the power Of the devil for the time; how
BERTHE Leon came by and spoke to him,
n and. patted him on the shoulder, and
, talked about city life; how he hated
g him and his pretty face and his good
J clothes; how they came to words and
q blows, and he struck him with his spade,
and he fell into the trench, and he
Is buried him there at the roots of the
J. tree.
IS Marshall, following his first impulse,
e. thrust the paper. into the dull-red Goals.
10 It famed for an instant, and flew, with
q sound like sob up the chimney.
!. !. +
m They hunted for Golyer all night, but
D. in the morning found him lying as If
re asleep, with the peace of expiation ON
g his pale face, his pruning knife in his
heart, and the red current of his life
II tingeing the turf with crimson around
lie the roots of the Blood Seeding.