The Glenwood post., 1912-01-20

still lingering on the horizon. the little
party slowly wended their way back.
down the steep traiR 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:
81 sho' done seed 'em. Massa Jack:
done seed 'em both"
Both? Both who?"
"Massa Waite sab. an dat black
debble dat we was huntin for. 1t
was a mos surprisin circumstances.
sah-a mos surprisin' circumstance"
We'll, 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
up words wholly satisfactory to his
ideas.
1T sho' am de strangest ting.
Massa Jack. ebber | prognosticated. l
was Jest comm roun' de corner OBJ
Sheeny Joe's shebang. back dar by de
blacksmith shop. when-de Lawd
save me!-yere come oil Massa Waite.
a ridin' long on a cream colo'd pinto
Just as much alibe as ebber he was.
Vas, sab; he's whiskers was BLOWN
round, an | could eben yeah him
cussin' he boss. when he done shy at
a man what got up sudden like from
a cart-wheel he was settin' on. done
took one look at dat secon' fellar. and
seed 1t was dat black debble from
down Carson way. Den ducked inta
de blacksmith shop out 'er sight.
sho' didn't want Mister Hawley to git
no chance at dis nigger-I sho' didn't.
Did they speak to one another"
Keith asked. anxiously. Did you hear
what was said?"
"Sho dey talked. Massa Jack.
sorter reckon dey was dar for dat
special purpose Sutt'nly. sab. dey
went right at talkin like dey had
som't'ing on dey minds. OF Massa
Waite was sittin' straight up on de
hoss. an dat black debble was a
standin dar in front OBJ him. OF
Massa Waite he was mad from de
first jump off, an could heah most
eberyting he said. but Mr. Hawley
he grin de same way he do when he
deal faro. an speaks kinder low. De
OIL man he swear fine at him, he call
him eberyt'ing-a damn liar. damn
scoundrel-but Mr. Hawley he jest
grin. and say ober de same ting.
Whit was that. Neb?
uniting bout a gal, Massa lack
an a law sultan how de oil man
better settle up widout no tghtin'.
| Jest didn't git de whole OBJ 1t. he
talked so low like"
What did Waite say?"
Well. mostly he Jest cussed Hs
sho told dat black debble bout what
he thought Oh him. but he didn't neb-
per call him Hawley-no. sab. not
once: he done call him Bartlett. or
something or odder like dat. But he
sutt'nly read dat mans pedigree from
way back to de time Of de flood.
reckn. An he done swore he'd fight
for whatebber II was. papers or no pa
pers Den Hawley, he got plumb tired
oh de oil man swearin' at him. an Ee
grabued picter out OBJ he's pocket.
an says. Damn you; look at dat!
What kind OBJ fight can yo' make
against dat face?' De OIL man stared
at it while. sorter chokin up; den
he say softer like: It's Hope; where
did yo' ebber get dat?' and de black
debble he laughed, an showed de pic
ter back into he's pocket. Hope. hell!
he say. It's Phyllis. an I'll put her
before any jury yo're mind to get-oh,
I've got yo' nailed. Waite. dis time :"
,TO BE CONTINUED1