Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1906-07-28

going to ask her for her storyg They
told me that she was TO be asked. Sure
ly they will ask her"
IL am not. perhaps, at liberty said
Meekin, placidly. unconscious of the as
ony Of despair and rage that made the
voice of the strong man before him
culver, Ito state the intentions Of the
authorities, but | can tell you that Miss
Nickers will not be asked anything about
you. You are to go back to Port Ar
thur on the Path, and to remain there
n groan burts from Rufus Dawes; a
groan so full Of torture that ever the
comfortable Meekin was thrilled by it.
Come" says Meekin, you can't COM
plain. You have broken the law, and
you must suffer. Civilized society says
you sha'n't do certain things, and IL
you do them you must suffer the penalty
civilized society imposes. You are not
wanting in intelligence, Dawes, more's
the pity-and you can't deny the Justice
Of that"
Rufus Dawes, as If disdaining to an
swer In words, cast his eyes round the
yard with a glance that seemed to ask,
grimly, if civilized society was progress
hhS loANV ~ oNNOlh Will JuNAlCt,
when its civilization created such places
as that stone walled, carbine-guarded
prison shed, and filled it with such crea-
lures as those forty human beasts, doom
ed to spend the best years Of their man
hood cracking pebbles in It.
Meditating that night In the solitude
Of his cell, he almost wept to think of
the cruel deception that had doubtless
been practiced on her. "They have told
her that | was dead, in order that she
might learn to forget me: but she could
not do that. | have thought of her so
often during these weary years that she
must sometimes have thought of me.
Five years! She must be a woman now.
My little child a woman. Yet. she is
sure to be child-like, sweet and gentle.
How she will grieve when she hears of
my s~ufferings! Oh! my darling. my darl-
ing, you are not dead!" And then, look
ing hastily about him in the darkness,
as though fearful even there of being
seen, he pulled from out his breast a lit
tie packet, and felt 1t lovingly with his
coarse, toil-worn fingers. reverently rails
ing it to his lips, and dreaming over it,
with a smile on his face, as though it
were a sacred talisman that should open
to him the doors of freedom.
The usual clanking and hammering
were prevalent upon the stone jetty at
Port Arthur when the schooner bearing
the returned convict, Rufus Dawes, ran
alongside. He sat with his head bowed
and his hands clasped about his
knees, dlsdaining to look until they
him.
Halo, Dawes!" says Warder Troke,
hating his train of ironed yellow-jackets.
$50 you've come back again! Glad to
see yer. Dawes! 1t seems an age since
we had the pleasure of your
Dawesv' At this pleasantly the train
so that their irons clanked more
than ever. They found it often incon-
~venient not to laugh at Mr.. Troke's hui
NOR. "Step down here, Dawes, and let
me introduce yer to your hold friends.
They'll be glad to see yer, won't yer,
Why. bless me, Dawes, we thort
we'd lost yer! We thort yer'd given us
the slip altogether, Dawes. They didn't
take care of yer in Hobart Town, | ex-
pect, Ell, boys2 Wen look after yer
here, Dawes, though. You won't bolt
any more"
Take care, Mr.. Troke," said a warn
ing voice, you're at it again! Let the
a%lone!"
BY virtue of an order transmitted
from Hobart Town, they had begun to
attach the dangerous prisoner to the
last man of the gang, r%iveting the leg
irons of the pair by means of an extra
link. which could be removed when nee
essary; but Dawes had given no sign of
consciousness. At the sound of the
friendly tones, however, he looked up,
and saw a tall, gaunt man, dressed In A
shabby pepper and salt raiment, and
wearing a black handkerchief knotted
round his throat. He was a stranger to
him.
II beg your pardon. Mr.. North" said
Troke, sinking at once the bully in the
sneak. Il didn't see yer reverence"
"A parsonr' thought Dawes. with dis
appointment, and dropped his eyes.
II know that" returned Mr.. North.
coelly. "If you had. you would have
been all butter and honey. Don't yen
trouble youself to tell a lie; it's quite
unnecessary. What's your name, my
manT'
Rufus Dawes had intended to scowl
but the tone. sharply authoritative rous-
ed his automatic convict second nature,
and he answered. almost despite himself
Rufus Dawes"
oh said Mr.. North, ewing him with
a curious air of expectation that had
something plying in it. This is the
man, is it? | thought he was to go t.
the coal mines"
80 he is said Troke, but we hain't
a-going to send there for a %fortnit. and
in the meantime I'm to work him on the
chain"
oh" said Mr.. North again. LEND
me your knife. Troke."
And then. before them all, this curious
parson took a piece of tobacco out OF
his ragged pocket. and cut off a "chaw'
with Mr.. Troke's knife. Rufus Dave.
felt what he had not felt for three day,
an interest IN something. He stareC
at the parsou DO unaffected astonish
ment. Mr.. North perhaps mistook tn,
meaning Of his GTed stare. for he hell
out the remnant Of tobacco 70 him.
The chain-line vibrated at this. an,
bent forward to enjoy the vicarious de