Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1908-03-03

QduSnter ana SldiNdIiol' "outu |iANs
not see it? 1t could do him no good II
his grave. Would they let it be vast
ed? Was it so dark as that! Alas
yes! They piled the soil in above him
above him and his money, and he was
dead, and could not say word, and
Donald Barron awoke.
i Do you remember what happened tc
him, only two nights ago, when his
bank was robbed? 1t was a terrible
Iexperience through which he passed
then. 1t was as nothing to that which
he was called upon to endure now.
More than twenty years before, a
very excellent physician had talked
very frankly to Mr.. Donald Barron. He
had told him some very plain facts
about weak and diseased heart and
a faulty calculations; he had told him
what he might and what he might not
do, with safety, at his business and at
his table. 1t was not pleasant, old
though he was, to wake there with the
blood stagnating in vein and artery,
with the memory of that well-meant
warning vividly present with him, while
he could but admit that day by day,
for years and years. he had practically
forgotten it, The closing words or the
long. and perhaps somewhat dry and
prosy. talk the doctor had given him.
seemed sounding in his ears: AVOID
all excitement, anger passion; unless
YOU are temperate and wise you will be
found dead in your bed some morning"
| DO YOU know what it is to stand
face to face with death? Has fire or
water or railway wreck or tempest ever
shut YOU away, for a little time, from
hope? If experience can help you, you
NAV understand how Donald Barron
felt when he awoke in the gathering
brightness of the early morning OF the
new day: if experience of that sort has
happily passed you by, l fear you must
go with this narrative without fully
comprehending Donald Barron's feel
ings and thoughts.
He had feared death, two mornings
|
chained down against the sovereignty
of his will for a little time. Now he
knew that death was certain. In the
same way have countless others feared
in folly until certainty was a revela-
ton.
1t was very hard to die so. But, then,
death is always hard when it comes to
the man whose mind has not gone
down into the darkness in advance Of
the mere physical. And hard or not,
| ii is inevitable.
His hearing was wonderfully acute.
His daughters breathing, slow and reg
ular and as peaceful as when she was
an infant, fell upon his ear. So near,
and yet so far. How he loved her
How we'll he had tried to care for her.
How bravely and unselfishly she had
done for him all that it had been pos
sible for her to do. If she could only
come to him now; if she could only
raise him up in her strong arms; II
she could rub his cold limbs; If she
could only dash cold water upon his
face and chest; but no-she slumbered
on-and he was dying!
Outside, the great detective walked
up and down. Watching? Watching!
But death enters silently and unseen.
Waiting? Waiting! 1t will be strange
news he will hear in the morning. He
has taken a great interest in this case,
phenomenal interest; If he would only
take it into his queer old head to run
up to his employers room to tell him
the result of his night of thought and
study; but no-he still tramped on with
the same sad monotony which had
sounded in his steps all night-beating
the same message, with heel and toe,
"to walk-tO watch-tO wait: to wait
to watch" and Donald Barron was dy-
ing.
He could not move. He could not
speak Kiss and blesslng-Elsie must
| live without them. And the secret of
the combination of the safe In his bank
it must die with him. The stars,
growing dim now, shone In at his win
dow, and lit up very pale face where
very dim eyes looked motionlessly at
the ceiling-and at the future.
His hands and feet were like lead.
The circulation was falling him. His
lungs struggled vainly; they were lock-
ed fast against the life giving air. His
Ilno,t Hic hr1 in
lgoing-going.
How he struggled. 1t was useless.
What were the words they would say
over him. one day not far away? They
came to him, slowly and laggingly, it
seemed. for he could not think now as
he could once-not as he could when
he awoke in despair that Gilbert Sem
should put his money into his grave
with him-and the words Of hope for
the dead made his prayer for the dy-
| ing: Il am the resurrection and the
| life. saith the Lord: he that believeth
in me- though he were dead. yet shall
| he live"
And what was that? Who stood by
his bed? Was it a phantom of dying
brain, or the first clear sight of a freed
soul?
His daughter had not come. The
great detective had not guessed his
need No door had opened. Did his
wife-the dear woman he had followed
to her last resting place under the SUM-
kissed flowers, long years ago-did she
stand by his bedside now? I do not
know. Until you lie where he did, you
cannot
Did his hand move?
No 1t was only q lost breeze Of the
wntry morning. stirring the snowy
sheet on which his whittier fingers lay.
Elsie Sem has given herself for n
fathers honor.
What has she gained?
God knows
| The future will show
AS for Donald Barron. starlight and
sunshine are alike to him. 1t may be