Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1906-08-29
boat was plainly v1slble-a dark line
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} boat was PLAINLY V16aDlo-A dark lint
in the agate Of river and sky. I'll " !:
! Soon: they could distinguish :: til.
forms of men on shore as they walked
with bent head, and arms straining al
the long cordelle, and there was 8
chorus of greeting.
It. was indeed a cosmopolitan cry
The foreign twang of Spaniard and
Frenchman Joined to the lusty call oil
the American pioneer, while here and
there an Indian gave whoop of wei
come, and even America added her
unctuous dialect to the greeting that
sounded over the water.
On came the men, and after them the
boat, drawn like the carcass of some
huge thing of the sea.
A landing was soon made, and the
captain came ashOre-a staggering,
ill-conditioned fellow, whose ox-like
strength and ferocity of temper held
his little world in check
There was clamorous cutlery for goods
expected or space for new cargo, but
it consumed little time, since large
dry goods box carried the average
shipment.
The appearance Of the boat-her
| crew and passengers, was anything but
prepossessing. Rough, uhcouth, and,
for the most part, depraved. the pros
pect of a journey with such men was
dishearten1ng.
But Winslow and his party resolved
to make the best of it, keeping them
selves and their lnopportune refine
ment as much in the background az
possible. Cramped quarters were pro-
vided them, and when the boat was
ready they took leave Of the settle
ment, with surprisingly little regret,
considering your fondness for pot
luck,'" Winslow said, laughingly to
Lavender.
The boat made slow progress, but
they found ample entertainment in
the beauties Of the view. The sky and
water, the now verdant banks on either
side, were constant food for thought
or converse. But to the majority Of
their fellow-voyagers, blind to Shift
ing cloud and changing shadow, to Ice
scanned bluff and towering pine, tho
hours dragged YEARLY.
Gambling was the chief diversion,
and most Of the men were inveterate
players. Among these was a once
wealthy planter journeying in company
with an octoroon slave. He had lost
fortune at the gaming table, but was
possessed with fever to win 1t back
at like hazard. The woman usually
watched his play, and her influence
alone had thus far prevented his utter
ruin. Over his shoulder. she often
hung, and her dark comeliness would
attract him from the dice or cards.
Toward the close of the second days
travel Winslow walked into the for
ward cabin, where the planter sat at
cards with two men. One of them,
Pat Finch, the captain, shouted as
Winslow entered: ''Take a hand?"
mo, thanks, I'll look on"
There was silence, broken only by
the rattle Of coin, and the oaths of the
players.
The air was sitting with the fumes
of drink and tobacco, but Winslow re-
NAMED, fascinated by the tense atti-
tude of the gamblers. Evidently some
untoward excitement was pending
the stakes were high.
Suddenly there was a gurgling cry Of
Lest, by Cod" and the planter fell
face downward on the table, scatter
ing cards and money in blind confu-
sion.
Another pause, then Finch, the cap
tain, spoke: ''lt was fair game, and,
damme, If she amt mine!"
At the brutal words, the PROSTATE
man rose, and shot look of mingled
hatred and pleading as would have
touched heart not mailed and proof.
Suspicion of the frightful barter
came over Winslow, but controlling
sickening sense Of disgust, he asked,
calmly: Then the stakes were high,
gentlemen"
The planter groaned and dropped his
head again to the table.
With a devil-may- care fling of his
great shoulders, the captain rose.
"High?" he repeated, well, If there's
a finer wench in the Louisiana terri
tory, I'd like to have her, that's ALL"
At this the stricken player sprang
to his feet, and with the grasp of a
tiger was at the speakers throat.
The door was suddenly opened, and
the octoroon's wide, frightened eyes
peered over the threshold.
Instantly tho o1inoho1 poor -
Taxed their hold, and the planter sank
to his seat again.
With wondering anxiety the woman
scanned each face, then timidly ap-
preached the gamester: civilian, mas
ter, speak to me-what is it,"
A groan was the only response; then
roughly Finch spoke: 1--WE played until
he lost everything he had-but YOU.
Then, well, then he staked-and lost
again."
The woman stood rigid. Over her
eyes a horrid comprehension grew.
darkening them like a film shutting out
the light.
Finch grasped her with half scowl
half leer on his cruel face. zone mans
meat is another mans pizen, you
know, my girl"
With a shrek she turned from him
to sink at the feet of her master. "Not
me? You have not sold me?" and she
murmured broken words of anguish.
groveling on the floor, her head on his
knee.
eve aro fnfrndinr oonoru