Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1906-10-03

the settlement, the island rose crowned
with cottonwood trees that shivered in
the night wind. In the distance, hills,
tall and sheer, formed rampant to the
north. Between bay and bluff lay
the town, it's mud-walled cottages show
ing white in the blackness. The village
was asleep and dark, except for the
lights which Winslow rightfully sup
posed indicated the tavern. And from
another building to the west came a
streak of light and the sound of voices,
with now and then the faint echo of q
violin.
Winslow's whole being was tensely
alive to these human sights and sounds.
For days Of the tedious journey he had
heard, save for the rare speech of his
guide, only the cries of wild beasts, the
shrieks of waterfowl, or the sonorous
melody of the forest trees. His breath
came short-his heart throbbed queerly
at being again in touch with his kind.
Yonder lay the town which was to be
his home for many future days. Yon-
der, too, his love awaited HMM sor-
row, perhaps, or trouble, but still there.
She might not be exn<xting him, for
of his coming he had ssnt no word
when he himself could out-journey a
messenger. He was sure of but one
thing-he would see her tonight, and
he urged: Row faster, Owatoga."
AS they neared the shore, voices from
within the tavern were plainly heard.
Owatoga anchored his boat, and, leav-
ing him to watch it, Winslow moved for
ward alone. This stealth was distaste-
full, but the woman's note had enjoined
secrecy, and it was for Lavender's sake.
At thought of her waiting for him, need
ing him, perhaps, his steps quickened.
Rapidly he climbed the sic.ping bank,
crushing the may-apples that, dying,
bequeathed to the air a boarded fra
GRANGE.
He gained the road at few PAGES from
where rose pollard willow tree, it's
bare head whitened by the CLEAN OF
stars. At it's base figure stood, which,
gradually from out attendant shadows,
took the form of a woman. At first she
gave no sign.
Winslow slowly advanced through the
avenue of branches that stretched from
the shady covert on either side. Once
he paused to listen. A crackle of
leaves, a step on the turf behind him
was Owatoga following? All was silent
again, and he pressed forward.
The woman bent expectant to meet
him, and put out welcoming hand,
murmuring: Gerald, is it you? At
last!''
But Winslow stood still in surprise.
He could not see her face, but the voice
was not Lavender's.
Then from somewhere back of him
out of the gloomy forest came another
sound; allow growth hat was only half-hu-
man in it's rage and glee. Winslow's blood
curdled. Turning to see whence the
voice came, he met pair Of eyes glazing
in grotesquely large head like jack
o'-lantern light.
The figure threw itself upon him with
tigerish strength. There was a wom-
ans scream and for few moments no
sound but the heavy breathing of the
two men Rugged together in death
grapple. Vain was Winslow's clumsy
rifle against this unseen foe, whose
hands in the darkness clutched his
throat. There was flash of steel, but,
putting forth all his strength, Winslow
turned it's course. The blade, swerving
from it's fatal errand, lodged in his
shoulder, and he sank to the ground.
With cry, the woman rushed forward,
but the slayer, brandishing the knife
over the PROSTATE Winslow, waved her
back. BE Off! What dye want with
carrion lover, anyway? Come to meet
the branchwater gal. did he? Wanted
that rich coal land, eh?" and he raised
the knife again.
But it was never lowered. At that
instant, from out the underbrush across
the road, whistled an arrow, and this
time the messenger of death did not
fail. Without groan the branch-wa-
ter man sank to earth, already wet
with the blood of his intended victim.
Motionless, the girl stood, hands
clasped, eyes staring with horror, her
lover dead, and by her fathers hand.
That father killed, but by whom? In the
dense shade she had not seen the ar
row fly from the bushes opposite.
Whence came it, then-the sudden death
blow? A nameless fear, supersti-
tious dread possessed her. Here, in
midnight forest, alone with the dead.
But love overcame fear, and she
dashed forward to where the bodies lay
black shadows on the blacker ground.
Both faces were upturned, her ia
theirs distorted, passion-marred, the
other-she recoiled in terrified surprise,
mixed with CHASTITY relief-the other
was not Gerald.
She threw herself on her fathers body,
and shook the stiffening shoulders, try
ing to rouse him. Father, oh, speak
to me, one world" She kissed the stark
face, already wet with the damp that
was not the dew Of night.
Then the other, the stranger, moaned.
He was not dead. She must find help.
Her fathers murderer, yet he must not
lie helpless, dying. With the speed of
an awful fear she ran back to the tavern
for help.
Then from out the shadow stole an
other shape, grim and gaunt, with a
tall buzzard's plume waving above the
sloping brow. With a gratified grunt
Of revenge, the Indian bent over the
dead man. Forth he drew the arrow,
and threw it away. The blood followed
from wound in the neck-a wound
deep and Jagged,