Belding banner. (Belding, Mich.) 1889-1918, 1908-10-15
"suppers raidy-ye might as well

NJ hilN lneSe days, MAN Gap
Morton said, stretching himself as he
! stepped out into the yard. Woods be
full of them by now! Pc old Freem'
didn't have much show, did he?
They'll never take me alive."
A sharp spasm crossed the worn old
face at the gate as she turned from
her pest to look at the speaker.
His long young body curved like a
1.-THE willow switch as he bent over the
table and rayenously devoured the APP
petizing food. The silhouette of a
! beautiful profile, well-shaped brow
IA fine, straight nose-short upper
lip and strong chin stood out in relief
against the faring cypress knots be-
hind him. She watched him with in
tense concentration-the quick, nerv-
Gus movements of his slim hands as
he passed them about the table-the
peculiarly graceful turn of his arched
4 foot. For a long time she watched him
as he ate. Then she bowed her head
on the gate listening intently. Yes
unmistakably-sh heard the sound of
horses coming-coming-in the dis
tance. They were coming swiftly,
\ tool
a thrill shot through her. With
vicious realism she foresaw the brutal
! scene that the next halfhour would
bring.
Suddenly the boy, strengthening his
body, threw his chin up and addressed
4 her. She did not hear what he said.
In maze she gazed, bewildered by
the overwhelming emotion that that
4 quick movement of the figure and toss
Of the chin brought to her. 1t was an
odd trick that the Morton family had
i possessed.
Ah the familiarity of the loved ges-
ture, and what it recalled to her
Vividly she remembered the same
tense stiffening Of the long, 1.-THE body
the same imperious tilt of the chin
of her own son, when he dropped
/ lightly from the leafy branches of that
same beech tree in answer to the call
mo use, Freem', we know you're UP
there" and, with oath for oath, had
faced undaunted to the last the
hideous, masked band of Ku Klux that
filled the cleanly-swept yard and sur
rounded the cabin. The remembrance
beat on her brain that Cap" Morton's
father had with trembling eagerness
"a vent to his long pent-up hate)
slipped the moose about her sons
reck
/ With a sickening gasp for breath,
she wavered, and then, throwing up
her hands in warning, she slid TO the
side of the boy, who bounded from
the table: "Unc' Dan" she said.
In a few seconds they had disap-
! peared in the thick, green cane that
bordered the garden fence and that
grew Il tangled, well-night impenetra-
bic brake for miles and miles up and
down the river
Uncle Dana name that sent UNI
comfortable terror to the hearts of
children, white and black-was an old
hermit, hoo-doo, witch, half-sav-
age, half-human creature, who dwelt
no white man knew where, nor for
how long, somewhere in the cane
brake-or in the swamp beyond-or
somewhere up or down the river-and
whose cunning wisdom and lore Of
woods could foil man or beast. and to
whose care before sun-up Aunt Lilly,
winding slowly, patiently in and out
along hidden paths-had intrusted her
charge.
When she came home about dawn
the chickens were fiuttering in a pre-
paratory way amongst the peach and
nh,
the table. the food just as she had left
it. The outer gate was closed. Poking
up the smouldering embers she sat
down on the bench and placed her
feet close TO the live Goals, TO dry.
Don look lax nobody been heah,"
she said, YEARLY. Wonder If dat was
Mist Geawge Estes gwine fox huntin
las night?"
Later on, the chickens flew down
and, slipping through the garden
paling. SHE'D around and around the
table, until finally, the boldest flew up
and, snatching piece of bread, ran
squawking away, followed by the rest
of the hungry brood.
Emmett Carter, the sheriff, with sew
tldl QtpulltS, CdLle .OH uoNn Tie IOSlu
and passed under the dead tree,
where, from the topmost branches, a
hawk perched and silently watched
the broken iron pot, where the old hen
still lowered over her chicks.
Don't see why We didn't think of
coming here first" said the sheriff, as
he sprang from his horse and went
into the yard Bet it's right where
Cap is-or was!"
The sun was above the rank growth
of the swamp by that time and the
first rays, stealing underneath the low
branches of the beech tree, fell on
Aunt Liily's face.
The faded red turban had slipped
down across her shoulders. The GU
riously stitched and quilted handker
chief she had tremblingly stuffed in
the pocket of the fugitive when she
left him at Uncle Dams camp. Her
white, woolly hair was in strange con-
trast to her small, shriveled black
face--a face that looked like some