The Lee County journal. (Leesburg, Ga.) 1904-19??, 1910-08-04
The Boy.
Rr MARTON D. JOHNSON.

"Throw up your hands there"
The flash and crack from three
rifles answered. A trooper iurched
forward heavily over his horses neck.
''Firel" cried the sheriff.
The Boy looked steadily along his
gun barrel as coolly as il he we're at
home on the farm shooting at mark.
The three men on the opposite bank
fell. Two struggled to rise. but one
lay motionIess. The troopers splashed
into the ford, the Boy following them.
An excitement such as he had never
felt before had succeeded his calm
ness. The sheriff bent over the dead
man
"Jim Lamson," he exclaimed.
Leader Of the whole gang. He is
your man, too, sonny" turning to the
Boy. "OnIy one of your slugs could
make that" and he pointed to hole
In tho mans forehead from which the
blood was oozing. drop by drop. The
Boy looked at the dead face. It was
young aud handsome and the repcse
Of death gave it refinement, almost
nobility, which it might have lacked
In life.
Did do that?" muttered the Boy
thickly.
makes you feel sort of winded,
don't it?" said the sheriff. II recol-
lect the first time / knocked over a
man myself But you needn't cry
much over him. He is the biggest
horse thief in Arizona and | reckon
he has plugged several of that kind
Of holes in the citizens Of these
parts.
The Boy mounted his horse UNI
steadily. II guess I'll go up to
camp" he said and, paying no atten-
ton to the sheriff's laugh, he rode
into the ford again.
AS the Boy wound slowly UP the
trail he wondered II 1t could be only
two short months since he was now
ing hay on the old farm in Vermont,
and moving his scythe carefully lest
he should harm some of the many
little creatures that live in the mea-
dows. To-day he had killed man
as indifferently as he would have
shot a squirrel. What was it to me
II the man was a horse theft" he
thought. He had not stolen his
horse. In Vermont horses were not
considered of so much more value
than men.
When he looked up at last ne saw
that he was on new trail, leading
over part of the mountain unfa-
miliar to him. All about him was
the dark, solemn mountain without
sign OF civilization, except one cabin
in the bend of the trail. Flowers
bIossomed in the plot around 1t, vines
twined over the little porch and white
curtains tiuttered at the windows.
Homesick tears filled the Boys eyes,
1t was all so cheerful and happy in
the midst OF that dreary land A wo-
man stepped into the trail from the
open door. She was young and sweet
faced. The late sunlight made her
brown hair CLEAN like bronze and
tOuCIGu SlSOhS WIN AC2Ns %AS~
eyes, as she lifted them to the Boz.
were ais innocent as little child's.
The Boy gave great sigh like one
awakening from an evil dream; life
out in that far, strange country was
not all violence and death.
Good evening, stranger, won't
you 'light?" said the woman. Wen
have supper as soon as my husband
comes. I'm waiting for him now.
Maybe you passed him? His name is
Jim. Lamson."
The hand on the horses bride
twitched violently and fierce trouble
leaped into the Boys eyes, but his
voice was steady as he answered, mo,
ma'am, amt ever known him. I've
got to be pushing on, thank you'll"
AS he spurred his horse down the
trail, although he did not know it, he
was the Boy no more. Boston Post.