Valentine Democrat. (Valentine, Neb.) 1900-1930, 1912-02-08

still lingering on the horizon, the little
party slowly wended 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-
element, his patomime indicating i'm
portant news. AS soon as he could
leave Hope, Keith hurried down to
interview his dusky satellite. who ap-
peared about to burst with restrained
information. AS soon as uncOrked
that individual began to flow volubly:
Il sho' done seed 'em, Massa Jack;
| done seed EN- both"
Both? Both who?"
'Massa Waite, sab, an dat black
debble dat we was huntin' for. 1t
was a mos surprisin' circumstance.
saba mos surprisin' circumstance"
We'll, go on; where did you see
them? Do you mean they were to-
gether?"
The negro took a long breath, evil
IDENTITY overcome by the Importance of
his message, and unable to c%onjure
up words wholly satisfactory to his
ideas
1T sho' am de strangest ting,
Massa Jack, ebber | prognosticated. |
was jest comm roun' de corner OBJ
Sheeny Joe's %shebang. back dar by de
blacksmith shop. when-de Lawd
save me!-yere come OF Massa Waite.
a ridin' long on a cream colo'd pinto
just as much alibe as ebber he was.
Vas. sab; he's whiskers vas BLOWN
round, an | could chen yeah him
cussin' he boss, when he done shy at
a mar what got up sudden like from
a cart-wheel he was settin' on. done
took one look at dat secon' fellar, and
seed it was dat black debble from
down Carson way. Den l ducked inta
de blacksmith shop out 'er sight. |
sho' didn't want Mister Hawley to git
no chance at dis nigger-l sho' didn't"
Did they speak to n another"
Keith asked, anxiously. Did you hear
what was said?"
"Sho' dey talked, Massa Jack. |
sorter reckon dey vas dar for dat
oPCSidl pun poSC. ouII - oohb ~
went right at talkin' like dey had
som'ting on dey minds. OF Massa
Waite was a sittin' straight up on de
boss, an dat black debble was a
dar in front OBJ him. OF
Massa Waite he was mad from de
jump off. an l could heah most
eberyt'ing he said, but Mr.. Hawley
be grin de same way he do when he
deal faro, an speaks kinder low. De
Of man he swear fine at him, he call
him eberyt'ing-a damn liar. a damn
scoundrel-but Mr.. HaWley he jest
grin. and say ober de same ting"
Whit was that, Neb?"
"Som't'ing bout a gal, Massa lack
an a law sultan how de oil man
better settle up widout no fghtin'-
jest didn't git de whole OBJ it. he
.alked SO low like
What did Waite say?"
We'll, mostly he jest cussed. He
'ho' told dat black debble bout what
le thought OBJ him, but he didn't neb-
Der call him Hawley-no. sab. not
)nce, he done call him Bartlett, or
or Odder like dat. But he
read dat mans pedigree from
way back to de time of de flood. 1
'eck'n. An he done swore he'd fight
or whatebber it was, papers or no pa
)ers. Den Hawley, he got plumb tired
b de oil man sWearin' at him. an lie
a picter out OBJ he's pocket.
N says, Damn you; look at dat!
What kind OBJ a fight can yo' make
.ga1nst dat face?' De OF man stared
t it a while. sorter ChOkin up; den
say softer like: It's Hope; where
id yo' ebber get dat?' and de black
edible he laughed. an showed de pic
back into he's pocket. Hope, hell
e say. it's Phyllis, an I'll put her
efore any jury yo're mind to get-oh,
We got yo' nailed, Waite. dis time
ITO BE CONTINUED.) /