Dakota farmers' leader. (Canton, S.D.) 1890-19??, 1909-01-22

necessity would compel my return Il
my own land. On Wednesday the stout
old vile de Bastia would carry me
back to Marseilles. Talking over my
plans with my Argentine friend,
found that he was again to be my fel'
low passenger.
Yes" he said, sadly, as W. smoked
our cigarettes on the balcony, on Mon
day night, there is nothing to keep me
here. But 1 could not die until I had
seen 1t once again"
"You knew the island before, them
l asked, with some curiosity. He seem
ed not to hear my question. His eyes
wandered over the palms and orange
trees OF the garden below, over the
roofs Of the quiet town, over the wa
ters Of the bay, s~himmering like molten
silver In the brilliant moonlight, over
the dusty outlines of the olive woods
around Chiavari. Then he turned and
let them rest upon the CnurO Hills.
The thick, sweet perfume OF orange and
lemon mingled with the subtle, aro-
matte breath of the macchie-the night
ingales poured II their passionate
hearts in an ecstacy Of song.
I started from vague dreams OF de
light when a servitor at my elbow pre-
scented the caro- Of Mons. lie Procureur
de la Republique. l found my visitor
waiting In the lounge-hall, empty, ex-
cept for a man who sat in n corner,
| absorbed In a newspaper. In the casual
glance 1 gave him, I recognized a Wis
itor from he town. who, Of late, had
| dined several times at h hotel.
The P]rOcureur held out his hand In
greeting. He was n courteous, intellect
ual gentleman, and, since our chance
meeting on the steamer, we had seen
a good deal Of each other. But tonight
he seemed Ill at ease. After a few
commonplaces, Monsieur" he said, II
observe that you and the gentleman
from Argentina have become great
friends" gE'
"Why, yes" 1 replied, I'VE go about
a good deal together; he is, like myself,
a keen fisherman"
A !"--his eyes were fixed on the
cigarette he was rolling-'have o any
idea whether he Is making a long stayY"
. LII III u pa L ASpltSu mat, linz
myself, he was leaving the day after
tomorrow.
As spoke. my eye happened to fall
on the visitor in the corner his keen
gaze met mine for a moment her he
resumed his study Of the newspaper.
"Eh. bien!, said the P%rocureur, with
what sounded like a sigh of relief, 80
much the better-I fear this island is
sometimes unhealthy for those who re-
visit it."
looked at him in%quiringly, but he
vouchsafed no explanation, and after n
few polite remarks and good wishes for
my voyage, he took his departure.
Next morning the Americana and /
awaited the carriage which was to take
us out for our final grand and glorious
onslaught upon the trout Of the Pru-
nelli. Presently 1t arrived-but not
Jeans carriage, or Jean himself.
Ar owlish little man sat huddled up
upon the box; a hooked nose and parch-
ment skin peeped out from the folds of
the cloak which, thrown across his
shoulder, concealed the lower part OF
his face.
What's this" cried to the con-
cicrge, what has happened to Jean?"
This one tells me, monsieur" ex-
planned the concierge, waving his hand
towards the old man, who sat immov-
able on his box, that to-day Jean has
the fever upon him, and the old
is taking his work"
''Oh. all right" We stepped into
the carriage and of we jingled-
through the garden, down the Cours
Grandva1. and along the Cours Napo-
leon. Just inside the octroi gates,
whom should we encounter but our
friend Jean. driving his little barbs
Mt their usual break-neck pace. He
cast upon us a glance Of amazed re-
proach as we flashed by.
"a quick recovery y l murmured;
my friend smiled and shook his head.
The high road was full of life that
morning. Strings OF mules, laden with
country produce, ambled in to the mar
ket, their m~istresses perched astride
the huge piles OF vegetables on their
backs; a Gathering troop of gems
d'armes, on the march to Sartene, kept
us company all the way to Cauro.
At Cauro We quilted our carriage,
crossed the asphodel-starred ridge at
the back OF the little town, and scram-
bled down the rocky defile to the banks
of the Prunelli torrent.
Ny friend and l were putting to-
gether our tackle, and were absorbed
in a discussion as to which fly was
likely to do most execution that morn
ing, when ping!--a bullet whizzed be-
tween our heads and buried itself in
a tree-trunk, a couple of inches from
the old mans ear. Quick as lightning,
he dropped behind a rock, dragging
down with him. At the same in
slant a shrill voice rang out:
DOG, come and get your payment!
Murderer of my brother, did you think
to escape Francesca? Did You think
he would not know you, even after
forty years? Fool! l have but lived
for this day! The sun shall breed
maggots in your body-and the crows
shall pick out your eyes-as they did
my brothers I"
| looked at the old man beside me.
His features s~harpened, and the pupils
OF his eyes contracted to points of
fame. His head seemed to fiatten like
that of a snake, ms, revolver In hand,
he writhed himself along the ground
mud 20 V,f{o,cly voorod .o,,vl %l,n o,,rla