Baxter Springs news. [volume] (Baxter Springs, Kan.) 1882-1919, 1909-09-16
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Gustave Hinkle- Martyr
Copyright. BY J. B. LipplncOtt Coz
By Caroline LOckhart

his eyes Tell upon MS uOuL LOu'
simultaneously, almost, with his
glance, a beautiful thought came to
him. What IL he should catch a string
Of trout and leave them with her
name upon them at the spot on the
bank where he jumped in? Would
she share them with Albert Snow?
Surely this last pathetic act of devo-
ton would soften her memory OF him
in after years. Besides, he loved to
fish, and there was no reason why a
man, even a man as good as dead,
should not have a little sweetness In
his cup of bitterness. So he put his
trout flies in an inside pocket and
started for the river.
He scurried through the alleys,
lodging acquaintances. for the least
observing would have thought 1t sim
gular that Gustave Hinkle, at $3.50
in the morning, should array himself
in a frock coat and pearl gray trou-
sers and start fishing.
The stimulating air, and the mere
act of hurrying, which, accurately,
was more like skulking, gave him
better color than he had had IN
months. The blood flowed faster in
his veins, and he was amazed to find
that his chemically cold feet and
hands were almost warm. His liver,
sluggish from his sedentary life,
stirred, and in spite of himself, with
the feeling a person has when ne
laughs at a funeral, Hinkle felt him.
self growing cheerful.
The sun sparkled on the fast now
ing river. Hinkle saw a shadow glide
behind a rock, and his spirits rose
like thermometer in a chinook. HIS
hands trembled with eagerness as he
tied on "the professor, his faVorite
fly, and cast 1t with skill which JUS
titled his pride in the throw.
A strike! Colt! What happiness!
II only he could hook him! Once
again. He was on! He had him! The
beating of Hinkle's heart almost
choked him. The water washed over
his patent leather shoes and Tapped at
his wedding trousers as, in his excite
ment, he waded farther and farther
into the river. What fighter he was!
How game! A whale In size! The
slender pole bent as the tailor played
him, till 1t seemed it must snap I'M
der the strain. Hinkle's face grew
alternately red and white at each
rush. The line might break-the hook
might break-the fish might tear
loose! But while It lasted was there
ever such ecstasy? He would be the
talk of the community II only he
could land that fish. Then, for one
sickening second, he remembered
that he was the same as dead. No
matter. He would be dead hero.
So he played the trout with des-
perate skill which would have immor-
talized him had there been witnesses.
The trout's rushes grew shorter and
less violent. He was firing him out.
Finally, while his heart seemed on
the point of bursting with joy, he
drew the fish slowly through the
water and dragged him ashore-the
biggest, the most beautiful Dolly Var
den trout that ever had come out OF
Wyoming stream!
Hinkle placed him tenderly on
rock and looked at him as he lay
rasping in the sunshine. AS he
looked. his desire became a resolve.
He wanted to show that trout to Lot
tie. With his own eyes he wished
to behold her astonishment and de-
light. He yearned to lay it in her
hands himself. Why need he die to-
dav. he asked himself There was no
reason why he should II he could get
his clutches on that note before Lot
tie saw It. Besides, his taste OF VIC
tory had aroused a pugnacious spirit
within him. His determination to
yield the field so meekly to Snow
grew less firm. Why not make q
struggle, at least, to regain his wifes
love? II he failed, he could die any
old time, and he could always kill
Albert Snow.
Moved to action by his sudden re-
solve. he picked the fish up and start
ed on a run for home. He must head
Lottie on before she found that note.
His trousers of ample cut, wet above
the knees, slapped about his legs as
he ran, and the water oozed through
the eyelets of his trim patent leather
shoes.
He was bounding over the sage
brush hummocks like an English hare
hound when, raising his eyes, he saw
a crowd bearing down upon him, led
nv his wife and the local editor, who
had his pencil. stin behind his ear
and was wearing quilted, plum-col-
ored smoking-jacket. Hinkle under
stood. She had read the-note and