The Parma herald. (Parma, Idaho) 1903-1917, 1913-05-22
THE TRAGEDY OF
THOMAS HEARNE


NahlCi1 ihOFCa Ahi1h4J WIN hos
hired stout horse and two-wheel
cd cart for a month from the landlord
| to whom talked neolithic man Of ar
| evening. impressing him with learn
ing. acquired from the reports OF thai
worthy society the Devonshire asso
citation. preferred to drive myself
declining the boy offered for that pur
pose. There were no other prepare
lions to make; and SO, on the day fol
lowing, that earnest student, Mr.
| Abel Kingsley, might have been seen
smoking his pipe on the cairn hill
| In a white macintosh, for was there
not threat OF rain In the air7 while
Mr.. Thomas Hearne lay hid amongst
the stones watching the effect of the
signal through his pocket telescope
He reported all well: julius Craig had
undoubtedly noticed the white water
proof, and understood that we were
waiting for him.
| could talk to you for an hour OF
our doings in the next three weeks
| We lived on the edge Of powder
barrel In which we bad set the fuse
Never morning but we we're up
with the sun, staring to windward for
signs of the weather. Would 1t be
today, tomorrow = not at all?
nervous man would not have stood
that strain; but we were not neu-
rotic couple. the old chap and /.
AS hard and keen and clever as a
lad of 81 was Thomas Hearne. 1t
was he who spent the day In Ply
mouth, returning with wig and long
overcoat that might temporarily con-
ceal the copvict's identity until he
could change his yellow prison uni
form for the clothes l had already
bought: 1t was he who gathered to
himself all the weather lore Of the
village until he bad become better
prophet than the wisest veteran of the
moors. Two fogs we had, but dur
ing the first the convicts we're kept
within the walls; while before the
other caught them the warders had
time to rush the gangs back to their
coils. Yet Hearne never lost temper
ut these delays. cheering me back into
patience with the strength of his OWL
certainty.
Don't you worry. Kingsley" he
would say; what Is fated to happen
cannot be prevented, and Providence
will see to 1t that julius Craig comes
to US soon."
His affection for the convict seem
ed to fill his life. No risk. no labor
was too heavy no storm would drive
him from his post. Often when
smoked by the inn fire he was crouch.
Ing patiently amongst the rocks on
the cairn hill, as If 1t were his only
son for whom he waited. There was
something inhuman in his merciless
self-sacriflce; but / had no reason to
complain. for it lightened the burden
on my shoulders.
1t was at three o'clock on Tuesday.
May 8, that julius Craig escaped.
Poor DEVIL If he had but known!
Hearne and I had quarreled that
morning over the fog question. Per.
haps both our tempers were wearing
thin, but that was no excuse for his
dropping from argument to insults.
dare say he thought my language just
as bad; but that didn't make the trou
BILE any lighter. There was fog In
the air, he said. though even the land
lord laughed at the idea when / put
the question to him. Finally the OLD
man walked of in a hun, though had
SO far given way as to promise that
/ would bring the cart to the ruins
by lunch time.
l sulked about the inn until the pa
pers came from Plymouth. When
had finished reading them 1t was Nigh
one O'clock. A leg OF lamb was cook
ing In the kitchen. Just because
Hsarne preferred cold ham sand
wiches or draughty hill there wal
no reason why l should not have my
meal In comfort. / would lunch be
fore l started. and he could wait fol
his sandwiches.
1t was selfish thing to do, but hs
had irritated me that morning more
than l now can understand. l was
finishing on with cheese when the
landlord thrust his head through the
door OF my sitting room.
II gave a fools wisdom this morn
ing. SIR" he said. THE fog be blow
ing up proper from the eastward. In
feared that Mr.. Hearne-"
He got no further, for l was pas
him like a fash and out into tn,
open.
The moors had gone; utterly vanish
ed away. In their place there lay
blanket OF billowy white that sen
wild streamers upwards to the flynn,
veil OF clouds. Only quarter mil,
OF the main road was visible. ans
up II the first wave of the misty in
undation was marching like a loft,
wall I ran toward the stable. cursin,
myself in my mad Disappointment.
/ galloped for 200 yards, and ther
the fog gathered me to itself. and
had just enough sense to pull tn,
horse to slow trot.
could still see the road for n dozs,
PAGES. but all sense of proportion an,
/ distance had gone from me. The 10,
was not stationary. but curled Il
} broad confusing wreaths. or poure,
} sideways upon me In avalanches o
: denser mist. Sometimes the car wa
} on the road, sometimes OF 1t. Twic,
nearly capsized. In the end
climbed down and went to the horse
head, leading It forward at tho run
| made better progress after that.
Yet I was not more than half wa
, to the cairn hill when from the whirl
J ing shadows to my left there cam
sound that set my heart leaping Il
l my breast II was the muffiad Tina .