Eastern Colorado times., 1912-08-16
CHAPTER VII.
The Blacksmith.

The Blacksmith.
had come up gasping for breath.
well out in the stream. either shore q
mere darker shadow showing above
the water. How far had been swept
below the barge could not be guessed.
as ] could distinguish no outlines
clearly. excepting the bare spars of a
vessel. tied up to the west shore. As
this ship had not been in sight previ-
ously l concluded the drift had been
greater than anticipated, and l struck
out quickly toward the opposite bank,
fearful lest be borne down as far as
Gloucester before ! could finally make
land. 1t was hard swim across the
swift current, and was nearly ex.
hausted when finally crept up the
low bank. and lay dripping and pant
ing In the shelter Of some low bushes.
Except for the bark Of distant dog
there was no sound more disturbing
than the rustic Of leaves, and the lap
ping Of water. Al my breath came
back sat up. wrung out my clothes
as best could, and. with difficulty,
drew on the boots l had borne across,
slung to my shoulder.
possessed but dim conception of
where was. yet knew l must make a
wide detour to the east 80 as to escape
British foraging parties.
] must have plodded doggedly along
through the darkness for fully i've
miles. without perceiving the first sign
Of habitation. or even a wood into
which could crawl for concealm ent,
when l suddenly came upon a long,
one-story stone building standing at
the left Of the road. a, grim, silent. ap.
parently deserted structure, one end
Of the roof caved in. and several Of
the windows smashed tried the
doors. but they appeared firmly fas.
tened, Far in the east there was a
faint tightening Of the sky promising
the approach of dawn. and thus
aroused to knowledge that I must
Immediately attain shelter. clam.
bered through one Of the broken win.
dows. and dropped to the earthen
floor within. could see nothing. not
even hand held before my eyes. yet
carefully felt my way forward through
tangle Of rubbish. wheels. scraps Of
iron, some casks, number of plough
handles, and a rif.raff Of stun / could
not make out. The place had evident
ly been used as a repair shop, but
must have been closed for months, al
could feel the grit Of dust every.
where. and cobwebs brushed against
my face as l moved about Finally I
felt the outlines Of large boz half
filled with paper. and, for want Of
something better. crept In and snug.
gled down. intending to rest there un.
til daylight should reveal my sur
roundings. %
was warm enough now. my cloth
ing practically dry. but thoroughly
tired from the long tramp over the
dark road. and exhausted by the ex.
element through which I had passed.
Even my mind seemed dulled. and It
appeared useless to think or plan. I
had not intended to sleep. yet drowsi.
ness came. and l lost consciousness.
know not what aroused me, but It
was already daylight. gleam Of sun
through the windows turning the fes.
tooned cobwebs into golden tapestry.
One side Of the box in which I lay
had been broken out. and could see
the full length Of the shop, which ap.
peared Uttered from end to end with
all manner Of implements of hus-
bandry, and Woodworking and black.
smiths tools. All this perceived
with my first glance. but It was the
distant sound Of voice which as In
stantly held my attention, At FIRST
could not locate the speaker, nor com.
prehend the peculiar singsong of the
utterance. But az lifted my head,
listening intently. knew the man to
be beyond the wooden partition at my
right, and that he was praying fer
vently. Somehow heartened BY this
discovery crept out from the bed of
papers. and stole silently forward to
the narrow door which apparently led
knka Ak.l~ - - - AtgSS. = IL.