Tazewell Republican. [volume] (Tazewell, Va.) 1892-1919, 1912-08-08

years ago. Probably you have heard
him spoken of before. 1t was vhisner-
ed that the Copperhead did the bloody
work.
Many Is the time, said Pete, that I've
sat on my fathers knee on cold winter
evening, and listened TO him tell of the
many thrilling hunts that he and John
Moore have taken together. Yes. Yes.
I've heard him spoken of thousands of
times I've heard my father say that
joan Moore once rescued him from
drowning, when they were attempting
to cross Big Sandy on raft. Why
John Moore and my father were raised
up together. Many is the fox and the
Dear that have lost their skins under
John Moore's and my fathers knives. ."
Now stranger, since you are so in
tlmate with my father, may l ask Won
your manner" Said Moore.
My name is Peter Randolph, said
the grocer.
Then you are son of Henry Ran
dolph, are you not?" Said Moore.
The very same" replied Pete with
nod. You too seem to have heard of
my father" he continued inquiringly.
Il never saw him." said Moore, "but
have heard so much of him, that am
perfectly acquainted with him. "-s
80 we should no longer remain
strangers, said the grocer, with an air
of satisfaction.
Certainly not" replied Moore. ex-
tending Pete his hand, certainly not
friend, give me your hand and with
that they both gave each other a warm
grasp.
1t was now late in the afternoon, and
the sun like great red ball of fire was
sinking down behind the western hills.
The barely visible pines stood like
sentinels on the western bluff and cast
tall pale shadows to the. eastward.
The chickens and turkeys were now
flying up into scrubby beech, their
favcrite roosting place, and everything
gave the signs of parting day.
well, Mr.. Randolph" said Moore
picking up his Winchester, might is
now approaching, so guess l had bet
ter hunt me a place to roost, as the
chickens are hunting theirs"
You must stay with me Tonight said
the grocer, taking his keys from his
pocket, and inserted one into the kew
hole. know my father would be proud
to see you. Yes you could bring back
the by-gone-days TO his memory"
afWhoff''
Randolph, the man with whom nv
father used to hunt? You don't saw
that he still lives?"
Indeed" replied the grocer, ''he is
still alive; and right lively old fellow
is he even if he is eighty-two. He has
never heard positively what became of
his old friend, and am sure he will be
deeply grieved to know of his tragic
DEATH
With these words he locked the
door. Then he, his brother and Ben
Moore made their way silently to the
little cottage under the beeches.
Pete led the way into the kitchen and
introduced his new friend to his wife
who was busily engaged preparing sup
per. He went to his fathers room
where the old gentleman was accustom-
ed to sit by cheerful fire.
They found the old man sitting in his
old arm chair watching the smoke as it
tioated away from his pipe, in thin spir-
al clouds, to be swallowed up in the huge
throat of chimney
The old man seemed as if he did not
notice the arrival of the stranger: but
greeted Pete with his usual-''Hello nv
son, how goes business today?"
Father" said the grocer, this is
my new friend, Mr.. Moore, of Pike
ville.'
"Ah, my Son." said the old man Chs !
name sounds familiar but his face is
strange, and yet it seems that l have
seen him before. All, yes 1 know no w;
you are almost exactly like my old chum,
John Moore"
He was my father" said Moore.
The old mans eyes frightened.
"My Godl' he exclaimed, "can this
be true?' "Ah yes" he muttered to
A, ~ ID IIuS, IL Is True.
Light the candle, Peter" he said,
himself in his chair. 81
must see if he has an honest face like
his father
The grocer obeyed his aged parent,
with much affection and tenderness.
When the candle was lighted the old
man took it in his hand and carefully
surveyed the features of Ben Moore.
your eyes, my boy" he said, "are
very much like your fathers; while your
forehead and mouth, resemble your
mother, but it is plain enough that you
are the son of my old friend John
Moore.
And pray tell me" he continued sis
your father still alive?"
"Ah, my dear old friend" sighed
Moore-''for such / must call you on ac-