Dakota farmers' leader. (Canton, S.D.) 1890-19??, 1907-05-03
IL.

which had once been a dollhouse on the
old London road, just outside the park
gates Of The Chase. My landlady, Mrs.
Benham, was an old geatlewoman and n
widow, with a son at sea. She was sit
ting at her tambour frame by the parlor
window and rose in establishment when
the latch of the garden gate clicked. to
see me at such an unusual hour. / had
been her sole companion for three years,
save at those rare intervals when her
son made a flying visit and when she
heard that / had come to pack up my be-
longings and leave her she burst into
tears, confessing that it gricved her more
to lose me than her own son. But see
ing that | had n sore trouble of my own
to bear, she, like a true woman, thrust
her own grief aside and did her best to
give nc hope and courage. / got the
parting over as quickly as possible, and
then with n small portmanteau, which
contained all the personal effects that |
needed, | struck out across the downs in
the direction of Sandhaven. The brisk
sea breeze revived my spirits, and by the
time l reached the cliff path a dozen
hopeful projects were revolving in nv
mind
| f~attered myself with the reflection
that l was in a far better position to
make my way in the world successfully
than many others who had won fortunes.
for besides energy, strength and health.
and a strong incentive to make the most
of them, ! had over fifty pounds in nv
pocket and a little properly, which
resolved TO turn into money at once,
This property consisted of a cottage and
n few acres of ground under the cliff,
midway between Sandhaven and Tower
bridge. 1t was called the Halfway House.
and had quite a romantic history. Orig
inally it belonged to my grea~t-grandfather-
Peter Beamish, and a desperate rascal
he was, according to all accounts. Even
now, at the age of "a. the oldest and most
disreputable inliabitant of Ronport. signs
of indomitable will, cunning and reck-
less daring were evident in the great
hooked-nose that almost met his chin, the
dark Sits of eyes cleaning like jet under
the shaggy white penthouse OF his over
hanging brows, and in the quick, abrupt,
decisive movements of his shrunken old
limbs. He was a tyrant in his domestic
relations and would have no women or
children in his house. When his son
Ben married, the wife was sent to live
with her mother-in-law in S~andhavUn,
and Ben was permitted to go and see her
on Sundays, unless business prevented. In
comparison with his father Ben was a
cherub, a meek, inoffensipe man, a rascal,
doubtless, but one who would have pre-
ferred to fall in with the times and exer-
else his rascality in a respectable way.
BIT. there was no resisting the rascality of
his father, who used him as a tool and
kept him under from first to last-treat-
ing him as a mere boy when old Ben
was white-headed. These two, father and
son, kept the Halfway House as an inn,
but in reality it was nothing but a store
for contraband goods and a rendezvous
for the gang of ~smugglers of which my
great-grandfather was captain.
All along that part of the coast the
soft cliff is undermined by the encroach-
ing sea. There was a cavern on the |
shore into which the cargoes were run,
and it was said there existed a secret |
way of communication between the cave
on the shore and the house on the cliff.
In those days the preventive service was
inefficient, and the revenu men kept
away from the Halfway House as much
as possible, the company there using their
pistols as freely as we might use lucifer
matches. 1t was, in fact, dangerous for
anyone to go near the place.
The gang vas composed of rascals of
various nationalities, but among them
was one called French Peter, to distin-
guish him from my great-grandfather, |
who was almost as masterful as the ac-
knowledged captain. The two Peters
quarreled, and there was a split In the
camp, when French Peter, to be avenged
on his enemy, fred a key or two of gun
powder in the cavern, and brought down
enormous slice Of the cliff, completely
choking the cavern and making it unap-
p%roachable from the sea. That ruined
English Peter and his faithful adherents ;
and, his occupation being gone, he sold
the cottage to my father, who had then
married Susan Beamish, my grand
fathers only child.
My father was captain of a coaster.
was wrecked soon after my birth, and
my mother, taking her loss to heart, died
a year after. leaving the cottage and all
she possessed to me by will. just
my great grandfather came to grief
and got seven years Imprisonment, and
grandfather, seeing that smuggling
was no longer u profitable vocation, re-
uIIe had always hankered after a sneak
III safe, respectable way of living. and
released from thraldom to his faith
err. he took possession of the Halfway
llouSe, Sisleu Tue plcuSe-ScNefai LILIES
land undertook to bring Inc up in the
way l should so.
When my great-grandfather came out
of prison he was Disguised with the
change in men and manners that had
place during his seclusion. The
day of smuggling was past. He refused
to dwell in the Halfway House. declar-
ing that the smell of whitewash made
sick. How he lived was a mystery.
He spent a great part of his days and
in the alehouses for comfort in the
round and about; sometimes he
was to be seen sitting on a spar at the
end of the pier at Ronport scowling out
at the sea. but regularly every month he
came over to the Halfway House and
there for two days to ''let the boy
go out for a bit of a ~vacation.' as he
put it. And old Ben awaited himself of
this opportunity. going off to some village
where he was not well known. But why
should never leave the house to-
gether was a fact that often perpleSad i
me.
And now, reaching the crest Of Dead
mans Point | saw the square. one
stored cottage on TIE cliff. with the sea
bSrsting over the detached mass at it's
case. which marked the close of evil
days.
To my surprise I found the doors lock
ed and the blinds drawn when l reached
the cottage. There was no response to
ny knock. and | was beginning to think