River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1911-12-21

presence of the marshal, Doctor Fair
balm, Keith and Hope That was all
excepting the post chaplain from Fort
Hays. who, inspired by glimpse OF
the girls unveiled face. spoke simple
words of comfort. 1t was all over
with quickly, and with the red sun
still lingering on the horizon. the little
party slowly wendell their way back.
down the steep trail into the one long
street of Sheridan.
At the hotel Neb was waiting. the
whites of his eyes shining with ex-
citemeat, his patomime indicating i'm
portant news AS soon as he could
leave Hope, Keith hurried down to
interview his dusky satellite. who ap-
reared about to burst with restrained
information AS soon s.s uncorke0
that individual began to flow volubly:
81 sho' done seed 'em. Massa Jack;
| done seed 'em both.
Both? Both who?"
"Massa Waite, sab, an dat black
debbIe dat we was huntin' for. IL
was a mos surprisin' circumstance
saba mos surprisin' circumstance.
well, go on; where did you see
them? Do you mean they were TO
gether?"
The negro took long breath, evil
IDENTIFY overcome by the Importance OF
his message, and unable to conJure
I'D words wholly satisfactory to his
ideas.
.r4 -, ~ do cfranCost ting
Massa Jack, ebber prognosticated.
was Jest comm roun' de corner or
Sheeny Joe's shebang. back dar by de
blacksmith shop. when-de LaWo
save me!-yere come oil Massa Waite
ridin' long on cream colo'd pinto
lust as much alibe as ebber he was
Vas, sab; he's whiskers was BLOWN
round, an / could chen yeah him
cussin' he boss, when he done shy al
man what got up sudden like IRON
a cart-wheel he was settin' on. done
took one look at dat secon' fellar, ano
seed it was dat black debble from
down Carson way. Den | ducked lnta
de blacksmith shop out 'er sight.
sho' didn't want Mister Hawley to. gil
no chance at dis nigger-I sho' dldn I.
did they speak to one another!
Keith asked. anxiously. Did you neal
what was said?"
'Sho' dey talked. Massa Jack.
sorter reckon dey was dar for da'
special purpose. Sutt'nly, sab. deJ
went right at talkin' like dey hae
som't'ing on dey minds. OF Masss
Waite was a sittin' straight up On az
boss, an dat black debble was
standin' dar in front OBJ him. Vi
Massa Waite he was mad from az
first Jump off. an | could heah mos
eberyt'ing he said. but Mr. HaWieJ
he grin de same way he do when az
deal faro, an speaks kinder low. Dc
Oh man he swear fine at him, he cal
him eberyt'ing-a damn liar. damn
scoundrel-but Mr.. Hawley he jes
grin, and say ober dc same ting.
What was that, Neb?"
"Som't'ing bout a gal. Massa Jacl
an a law sultan how de oil mar
better settle up widout no hghan'
| Jest didn't git de whole OBJ it, IA
| talked so low like"
What did Waite say
We'll, mostly he jest cussed. Ht
sho' told dat black debble bout VIVA
he thought oh him, but he didn't neD
Der call him Hawley-no, sab. no
once; he done call him Bartlett. o.
something or odder like dat. But n
sutt'nly read dat mans pedigree from
way back to de time of de flood.
reck'n. An he done swore he'd hgn
| for whatebber it was, papers or no pa
pers. Den Hawley, he got plumb t1re6
| oh de OF man swearin' at him. an t'
grabbed a picter out OBJ he's pocket
an says, Damn you; look at dat
| What kind OBJ a fight can yo' make
against dat face?' De oil man stared
at it a while, sorter chokin' up; del
| he say softer like: It's Hope; where
did yo' ebber get dat?' and de blacl
debble he laughed. an showed de pic
| ter back into he's pocket. Hope. hell!
he say, it's Phyllis, an I'll put hel
before any jury yo're mind to get-oh
I've got yo' nailed. Waite, dis time
(TO BE CONTINUED