The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1906-05-17
Chesterfield Neal.

ON1A~AOA
dinner, They had been to college
together. but fifteen years had lapsed
since their last meeting. Between
them was tie that tinctured their
friendship with something like ten
derness.
The fire burned low. Neal sur
yeyed his friends handsome profile
for few moments and then asked
abruptly,
John, why have you never mar
ried?"
"I-oh-why haven't you, Chess?"
Tell me first, laddie."
ITO tell the truth, Neal, never
cared much for ladies. My mother
well you know what she was. She
broke my fathers heart NV sister
she was the elegant Mrs. Welloby:
we won't talk of her now. Women
are all the same.
II disagree with you, John. You
are too general in your condemna-
zion. But for the sake of one woman
[ shall always remain a champion OF
the sex because she belongs to 1t.
"A craven, whose name is famil-
lar to you but which l would not
stain my lips to speak, insulted me
basely and then added injury. was
hot-headed in those days and care
less of results. We stood near the
entrance of a hotel when he ad-
dressed me. The insolent words had
hardly left his lips when | grasped
my revolver and turned on him The
coward ran out Of the door. A girl
was passing by. She was very young
not sixteen, / think. He grasped
her arm. crouched down behind her
and swung her around so that the
barrel of my revolver pointed in her
face. Did she shrek and shrink
away? No! McCree, she lifted her
grand, sweet eyes to my face and,
laying her hand on my arm, she said
simply,
Don't stain your hands with
towards blood
John, my revolver slipped from
ray hand. l barred my head before
her. She smiled and passed on 1
have never seen her since. never
heard who she was, but the memory
of her has made me a better man.
After that night these two friends
were inseparable. Johns health
failed and Neal went with him as a
brother might to seek dried climate
than the coast offered.
They were riding over the prairie
one morning when Johns horse cast
a shoe and he was thrown over her
head. His leg was broken and he
brain. Protecting him as best he
could from the sun and any chance.
straying animal, he galloped away
for help with a sickening heart. He
could not have gone more than an
hour, but when he returned no trace
of his friend could be found.
A month passed and at last Neal
was obliged to go home alone. To
Neal, the unsolved mystery was
constant pain and worry.
One evening he entered his pri-
vate apartment and sat down before
the table. Over 1t hung woman's
picture which he had done in his
leisure moments. 1t was an ideal
face, charming in its youthful sim
plicity.
A year crept by and no light was
thrown on Johns fate. He sat
alone, his head buried in his arms.
1t had been a long, irksome. unsat-
isfactory day
Suddenly a hand was laid on his
shoulder; starting up. he beheld-
John, as debonaire and smiling as
gracefully as ever.
NEAL" and John grasped his
friends hand until 1t ached. How
good it is to see you again. Where
have l been? To heaven, think.
Neal. The Indians found me after
you went for assistance and took me
to their camp. They were civilized
and treated me white
but we searched the country for
you"
''But you missed the Indian camp.
My identity the Indians could not
discover, because my pocketbook was
gone, and they couldn't read any
way. The Indians took me down the
river to some ladies who had been
kind to them. Those ladies, Chess.
took me in, homeless stranger, sick
and alone, In strange land. / lay
In a stupor for eight weeks, they told
me, and when did come to myself
could not move hand Or foot My
tongue had lost its power. MY back
was injured and was paralyzed.
One of those ladies was a widow.
She owned the ranch and spent a
portion of the year there. Her sister.
a dear little girl, with blue eyes and
soft, light hair. Her name was Juliet
''The servants" John continued.
carried me one day to the veranda.
Ruth sat just in the window. She
took off her widows cap for mo-
ment and then suddenly there burst
upon me the remembrance of where
had seen her lovely face.
"'It is Chesterfield's ideal!' fair
ly shouted Think of nine months OF