The Ekalaka eagle. [volume] (Ekalaka, Mont.) 1909-1920, 1915-11-26

OANC
"Waal, s'pose I am! Is thar any
thing wrong in that"
"Do you think it right to sacrifice
this mans life just to set yourself right
with those men?"
Il think it right to take keer O. my
goin' to be tuck 'keer of. If l go an
git ketched in the crack O. a fence no
body hain't goin' to crawl in the crack
In let me out, no matter If l lie thar
an squeal till I'm %baldheaded as a
pumpkin. l tell you in these ye-e war
times, when men air goin' bout shoot
In fellers up promiscuous, everybody
has got to look out for hisself an keep
his W meat from sp'ilin',"
"That's true, father, and I am not
blaming you. Oh, dear. I wish this
cruel war was over"
$50 do I, daughter; so do I. Thar's
jest two things I want in this world,
nm if I could jest have them I'd be as
happy as a niger in a watermelon
patch"
"Wha two things are they?"
II want this blamed war to end an
l want that dadgummed fool, Billy,
shipped to the very middle O Africa.
Them two things is all l ask for in this
world"
you'd be rid Of Billy, then, for good
ard all, wouldn't your"
"Waal, 1 think if somebody tuck him
over thar some'rcs, whar nobody
wouldn't never find him, an broke his
neck an tied him fast to a tree thar'd
be a chance, mebby, Of him never git
TIM back yerc to poster me no more.
Tbar'd be a chance, I say, jest a bare
chance, O sech a thing"
"You have lots of trouble with Billy"
"Trouble! Trouble hain't no name
for it. Say, if l don't never git to go
to heaven when l die that blamed ras-
cal IL be the cause of it. Lor', but I'd
love to squash him.
A long silence followed, and again
old Silas lapsed into his thoughtful at
titude, while Minerva began to tidgct
n%eryously and move restlessly about
the ROOM. The three hours wait had
almost worn itself out, and she began
to watch the hands Of the clock anX-
lo,lsly.
"Soon," she said to herself, "this
party or the other of those men will
come, but which will come ~first?"
James Ross. knowing nothing Of
what the daughter had done, expected
nobody but the fathers friends and
believed that it was only a question of
q little time until he must meet his
death. He was Il brave man. and in
his heart there vas III fear, but it was
a cruel thing to feel that he must die.
a few hours sooner death would not
have seemed so terrible, for then there
was no tie binding him to the earth
and life had not seemed SO sweet.
Then he had not met her.
my land, l do wish they'd Gomez
old Silas exclaimed, with a yawn. I'm
gittin' so sleepy l can't sca'cely hold
my eyes open.'
$50 do l." his daughter agreed. Only
the "thcy" she had i'll mind was not
the 'they" of whom her father spoke.
In less than five minutes the wish of
one of them was granted. But which
one?
There was the sound of hoof beats on
the hard, dry road. They came on to
the yard fence and stopped. Then for
n little space there was silence. Old
Silas stood up. stretched himself and
drew n sigh of relief. His daughter
arose, placed her hand on her heart
and, leaning eXpectantly forward,
waited ~breathlessly, with her eyes fix
ed on the door. James Ross, glancing
in her direction. saw that she was
deathly pale, and. not thinking what
he was doing. he went to her and took
her hands in his and held them.
There We're footsteps in the yard.
They approached the closed door. The
woman heard them and hoped and
feared. To whom did they belong?
Had Bud Simpson or Billy Slye won?
Did those footsteps bring freedom or
death to James Ross?
In that II moment Minerva suffered
eXcruciating torture. One hour like
that would have seemed an ayc. after
NIL the trying suspense she had en-
dured. But she was spared 4 long
wait.
An instant later the door was thrown
open, and three men entered the room.
One glance at them was enough. and
The next moment the woman tainted in
James Ross arms. That glance told
ner that she had lost and her father
had won.
The men were bushwhackcrs.