News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1913-09-03
CHAPTER XII.
Billy O'Flynn.

Billy O'FIynn.
KGte'S Narrative.
Jesse is cruel to young O'Flynn
Perhaps he is justly, rightly cruel, In
gliding at this young cowboy, haunting
him until the lad is on the very edge
of murder. Got to be DONE" says
Jesse, Il promised his father that 70
break the cold until he's fed up with
robbers. SO just you watch me lift
the dust from his hide, and don't you
git gesticulating on my trail with
your fool sympathies." Billy does
not suspect that the tormentor loves
his victim.
My heart aches with his humilia-
ton. His mother is my cook, not a
princess, as the boys pride would
have her. His father was one of the
most dangerous leaders of the Rocky
Mountain outlaws, so there the lad
saw glory, and don't blame him. But
all the glamor was stripped away
when Jesse tricked O'FlynI and his
gang into surrender handed them
over to Justice, and showed poor Billy
his sordid heroes for what they really
were. His father has been hanged
That night the lad had come from
Hundred Mile House, with Jesses
pack-train bearing load of stores.
There was dress length, music for
my dear dumpy spiano, spiced rolls of
bacon, much needed flour and gro.
aceries, and an orange kerchief for
Billy. From his saddle wallets he pro-
duced my crumpled letters and the
weekly paper a Vancouver rag,
Therein Jesse labors among tangles
of provincial politics, l gloat over the
cooking recipes of Americas nice cui-
sine, and spare maybe just a sigh
over the London letter. Billy's por-
ton consists Of blood-curdling disas-
tors and crimes, and the widow waits
raVenous for her kindling, bed stuff
fling, wall paper, and new pads for
her wooden leg. At ten cents that
paper is bargain.
II.
After breakfast when Jesse had
gone to work, the widow came to mo
in deep distress, leaning against the
door-post, twisting up her apron with
tremulous fingers, her eyes dark with
dread. When I led her to a seat. per-
haps she felt my sympathy, for a
flood of tears broke loose, and wild |
Irish mixed with her sobs. The lep- !
rechawn possessed her bhoy avick, |
night-riders haunted him, diyils was
In him acushla, and the child was fey. |
His step-uncle went fey to his end |
In the dreadful quicksands, her
brotherin-law went mad in the black
Indian hills, running on the spears |
Of the haythen, rest his sowl, and now |
Billy! He was gone this hour. Fierce
ly she ordered me out to search, for
she would take the southern pasture,
80 surely I would find him in the |
pines. She feared that place; NUT
tered of fires lighted by no mortal |
hands. Yestreen falling star had !
warned her that she was to lose her
bhoy, and had ! not seen that face |
In the windy last'night?
Soothing the poor thing as best | |
could, l undertook the search, glad |
Of an excuse to get away outdoors.
Presently l came upon Billy perched
pm a root overhanging the depths of
the canyon. He was cleaning Jesse's
rife, and I surprised him in a fit of
angry laughter.
Billy" shouted, come in off that
root before you fall"
He obeyed with sulky patience at
my whims.
why are you not at work? What
are you doing with my husbands
rifie?"
''Im at work." he answered sulk-
ny-then with an odd vagueness of
manner, Pm cleaning the burned
thing"
Being a woman, and cursed at that
with the artistic temperament, could
not help being moved by this lads
extraordinary beauty-the curly red
gold hair, skin with the dusty look
of a ripe peach, the poise of easy
power and 1.-THE grace, the sense he
gave me of glowing color yelling
rugged strength. AS an artist studies
good model, l had observed very
closely the moods of Billy's tempera-
menJ.
4
ness of manner was abnormal, and
the lad was fey.
"But why are you cleaning his
rifie?"
1T kicks when it's FOUL" he said
absently.
You're off hunting?"
"Goin' to shoot Jesse, thet's ALL"
I'm sure" / said, "he cleaned 1t
yesterday. Look here" and / took
the rife to show him it was clean.
"See," l put my little finger nail in
the breech while he looked down the
barrel. Come" said 7, and told him
that in my sewing-machine there was
a bottle Of gun oil. The rife was in
my possession, safe.
Then he heard Jesse coming" Whist! J
Hide the gun!" he said, and as
though we were fellow conspirators,
! placed it behind tree, so that my
man cav nothing to cause alarm.
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