The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1907-12-15


That e'er yet eclipst the sunne."
Now it happened one day in the early
.-springtime when the sky was china blue
and fiimy clouds trailed like lace across
the disk of a pale sun, that /, Henry
Stenhouse, nineteen years Of age, well
and sound in mind and body, decided to
commit a crime.
The crime which l contemplated was
murder. For three years past / had
watched the object of my pursuit; 1 had
peered at him at night as he lay sleep
ing, / had crept stealthily to his home,
evening after evening, waiting for a
chance to kill him. l had seen him
moving about on his daily business,
growing fatter and sleeker, serene, sly,
self-centered, absorbed in his own af-
fairs, yet keeping a keen, shrewd eye
upon strangers. For he mistrusted
strangers; those who passed by him,
not even noticing him, he mistrusted
less than he did others who came 10
him with smiles and outstretched hands.
He never accepted anything from
anybody. A strange step or the sound
of a strange voice made him shy ana
suspicious. But he was cold and self
ish, cold blOoded as a fish-in fact he
but I had better tell you little more
about him first He was my enemy i
determined to kill him, and perhaps ne
read ii in my drawn face ana spafhlllls
eyes. for. as 1 stepped toward him, the
first time, he turned and fed-hed
straight across the Governed river
And although / searched the river
banks up and down and up and down
again | saw no more of him that day.
When 1 went homes excited, furious,
l made passionate preparations 10 KIN
IA inn nj orhf I tossed THNeElSIlAN
I'm my tumbled bed, longing, aching TOT
the morning. When the morning came
1 stole out of the house and bent my
steps toward the river, for l had reason
TO believe that he lived somewhere IN
that neiehborhood As l crept along,
the early morning sun glittered on
something that ! clutched with nervous
fingers. 1t was weapon.
This happened three years ago; dld
not md him that morning although l
searched until the shadows fell over
meadow and thicket That night too
found me on his trail, but the calm
gpring moon rose over Governed vii
lage and its pale light fell on no scene
Of blood.
So for three years 1 trailed him and
stalked him. always awaiting the mo-
ment TO strike-praying for an oppor-
tunity to Stay; but he never gave me
one. He was fierce and shifty, swift as
lightning when aroused, but the battle
that I offered he declined. Oh, he was
deep-deep and crafty, cold-blooded as
a fish-in fact, he was a hSh, Mine En-
envy, the Trout.
Do you imagine that the killing OF
Mine Enemy was a crime? No, my
friend-that properly done, was what
is known as sport; improperly done, II
is murder-there, the murders out!
was going 10 catch the trout with bait
You. dear brethren of the angle, brave
fy-fshermen. all. wet or dry, turn not
from me with loathing, Hear my con-
fession. the confession of one who was
tempted. listened. fell, and fished for q
trout with a worm
Anyway. it's your own fault If YOU
throw down this book and beat your
breasts with cruel violence. l told yor
that my story was to be the story OF Z
crime, and if you don't like TO read
about crimes, you had no business Il
begin this tale. There are worse crime!
too-some people habitually fish Will
bait; some net fish, and there exist {
few degraded objects in human SHAPE
who snare trout with wicked Wlr'
loop on the end of "a saplins.
Now I don't propose TO tell you aoou
these things, I am no depraved realist
so thank your stars that the crime
contemplated was no worse than IL was
and listen TO the story of an errint
brother. Mea culpa.
I was only 10. a student at the STATE
school of Engineering, and in my senlo
year. What l did in engineering was
barely sufficient 10 carry me through
my examination; what / did in Shoot
ing and trout fishing might have fur
nished material for a sporting library
fC nv FF
fession: my father before me had beer
a mining engineer. 1 was not entirely
ignorant either; I knew mica-chist from
malachite. and I could-but that's of M
consequence now. 1t is true, however
that instead OF applying myself to the
studies of nv profession l spent j great
deal of time contributing TO New York
sporting journal called the Trigger.
produced a couple OF columns a week
on such subjects as German Trout vs.
Natives" do Automatic Reels Pay|
ana .sF,xperiments with the Amherst
pheasant" But my article entitled THE
Enemies of the Spawning-Beds' wor
me recognition and become a regular
contributor TO the Trigger
How T ever passed my examinations
ls one of those mysteries that had bet
fer remain uninvestigated. 1 don't re-
member that / studied or attended
many lectures. / was TOO DuSS, ShOOI-
ing or fishing. or writing for the Trig-
ger.
Also there existed girls boarding
school a mile away.
Tbis school was run by two old maids
the Misses Timmins. 1t was the Tim
Minis sisters aim in life to prevent the
members of their school from coming
INTO contact with the engineers from
CIoyernead; therefore we Knew them
all
The means of communication were
varied and ingenious, for the little
maidens at the boarding school were
quite as enthusiastic as We were. we
never went through the formality OF
an introduction-it was not expected;
we spoke when we had the chance, and
thanked fortune for the chance.
There was. however, one weird Gus
tom laid down by the boarding schOO
maidens, a tradition which had existed
as long as the school; and this was
we'll understood by the Clovermaid en-
gineers. 1t was this: no youth could
expect to spoon with any TimminS
maiden unless he first declared his in
tentions by serenading her.
We were not all blessed with high
ssF.s 4