Hopkinsville Kentuckian. [volume] (Hopkinsville, Ky.) 1889-1918, 1911-08-31
Given Up
to Justice
By John Philip Orth.
By John Philip Ortiz.

| ~ DOIhnl5I WnhL uOos ne uOf ne
may take up house-painting or black
smithing, but the chances are that
he will hunt up some relative living
in the country and pursue his studies
in the field for some weeks in the
hope of making new discoveries.
Young Ronald Chisholm did that
very thing. He had a brother liv-
ing among the hills Of Massachu-
sets, and that brother was very glad
to see him. The young man had
simply to eat, sleep and wander. He
climbed hills, crossed dales and saun-
tered over meadows, and he hadn't
an idea Of anything beyond the coll
lection he was making. He had no
idea that there was a daring horse
thief working in the country, and
that less than three miles away there
lived young lady with golden hair,
brown eyes and face called lovely.
After a tiE.e the doings Of that
horse-thief excited attention. The
sheriff and his deputies got after
him. That is, they picketed certain
roads by night and searched certain
woodlands by day. They likewise
got out hand-bills and offered re-
ward. The fellow had been seen by
more than one farmer as he lodged
from place to place. Perhaps there
have been young botanists who have
taken great interest in horse-thieves
and their doings, but it wasn't the
case with young Chisholm. In fact,
he was hardly interested when in
formed at the breakfast table one
morning that his own brother had
been made a victim. He had reason
to believe that he was on the trail
of new brand of catnip, and his
thoughts all ran that way.
On this particular morning the
botanist took a new direction when
he left the house. 1t was straight
across the country towards the home
of that damsel with golden hair.
Without his knowing it she was the
magnet, though he laid it to catnip.
In hammock on a wide and shady
veranda Miss Gladys Dexter swung
to and fro, while the locust blossoms
scented the air and the insects
droned and hummed. Her father
was away, her mother lying down in
her room with headache, and the
girl seemed to have the world to her
self. She might have slept but for
steps on the gravel walk.
ooh, Miss Dexter" said the sheriff
as she reused up, "you've heard about
the horse-thief, / reckon?"
dyes"
"He's sure got nerve. Hanging
right around here yet. Your dad
hasn't got any horses to be stolen,
but l want you to keep your eyes
open. Here's a good description of
him. If you get your eyes on him
it's telephone to me, and half the
reward is yours"
"I'm no thief catcher" laughed
the girl, "but if the man comes call
ing shall think it my duty to notify
you"
CHATS good enough. Wouldn't
ask you to give away tramp, but
here's a hard case. He's stole five
good horses. May turn to burglary
next. Just telephone and l will
gobble him."
|. After the sheriff had departed
Miss Gladys read the description,
and with the bill still in her hand
she wandered down the highway to
the creek which crossed it a few rods
below the house. With her own
hands, the day before, she had made
a little dam and imprisoned a few
little fish there. Had they got away ?
No; they were there yet and frisk-
ing about, and their antics were be-
ing watched with amused interest
when a young man with plant in
his hand climbed the fence into the
road. lie at first seemed taken back
at sight Of the girl, who certainly
looked a bit alarmed, but after half
a minute he lifted his cap, and hold
ing out the plant he asked:
81 beg pardon, but have you seen
anything like this growing in the
field beyond%