Virginia free press. (Charlestown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1832-1916, 1912-01-04

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 It was all over
with quickly. and with the red sun
stiIl 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-
element. his patomime indicating Inn
|portant news AS soon as he could
leave Hope. Keith hurried down to
interview his dusky satellite, who APP
peared about to burst with restrained
information. AS soon as uncorked
that Individual began to flow volubly:
q sho done seed EN-. Massa Jack:
done seed 'em BOTH
Both? Both who?"
"Massa Waite. sab. an dat black
debble dat we was huntin' for It
was a mos surprisin' circumstance.
saba mos surprisin circumstance. "
well, ge-en: where did you SEQ
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 5strangest 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 cream colo'd pinto
Just 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 at
man 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 ! ducked inta
de blacksmith shop out 'er sight.
sho' didn't want Mister Hawley to git
no chance at dis niger 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. or Massa
Waite was sittin straight up on de
boss, an dat black debble was a
standin dar In front OBJ him. OF
Massa Waite he was mad from de
first jump of. an ! could heah most
eberyt'ing he said.s but Mr.. Hawley
he grin de same way he do when ne
deal faro, an speaks kinder low De
=oi. man he swear fine at him, he call
him eberyting-a damn liar. damn
scoundrel-but Mr.. Hawley he Jest
grin. and say ODER de sameting.
Whit was that, Neb.?
"Som't'ing bout gal, Massa lack
Ian a law sultan how de oil man
better settle up widout no hghtin'.
l jest didn't git de whole OBJ it, he
talked SO low like.
What did Waite say 2"
Well, mostly he jest cussed. he
sho' told dat black debble bout what
he thought OBJ him, but he didn't neb-
Der call him Hawley-no, sab. not
once; he done call him Bartlett. or
something or odder like dat, But he
sutt'niy read dat mans pedigree from
way back to de time OF de food, |
reckn. An he done swore he'd fight
for whatebber it was. papers or no pa
pers. Den Hawley. he got plumb tired
oh de oil man swearin at him, an lie
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 OF 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 .
,rrr. srr1