The Bridgeport evening farmer. [volume] (Bridgeport, Conn.) 1866-1917, 1916-01-24

thought nobody was lookin'. For on
thing, 1 noticed that he goes reguIa
every day down in the big swamp be
| low his cabin. He's wore a little patl
O. his own in the weeds an grass. An
| t'other day, when I knowed he was of
| in town, I slipped down thar But
i didn't md nothin', Uncle Alb, exdep
| that his tracks come to a end at
particular spot in the thickest part 0
| the swamp. I couldn't make nothin
of it except that he jest loved to go tt
some one quiet spot"
at see, an SO that come to nothin', ,
Abner sighed.
IT actually don't know Pole return
ed, F'but it give me an idea. knoweC
could kiver my tracks, an so day be
fore yesterday went down thar be
fore he did an hid myself as nigh the
spot as [ could with safety. I lay
down fat in the bulrushes an waited
fer him to come. 1t was a long wait
an not pleasant, fer the gnats an mos
quitoes fairly chaWed the meat off my
bones, but. after awhile I heard i'm
a-comin'. The spot was mighty shady
an I couldn't see his face good, but ]
heard i'm mumb1in' some'n' to hisse'f
Then he set in to swingin' his arms
about i'm, an heard i'm groanin' like
he was in torment
'"Then-theE what did he doY' Alb
ner leaned forward, a look of tense
eagerness on him as he spoke.
why, he started to go back" Pole
replied. "He plunged into the cane
brake an willows, an 1 heard i'm
thrashin' his way through the bushes
at a great rate. I was about to crawl
out an slip after i'm when seed i'm
come back. He stood twistin' his
hands over his head an benin his
Back, an then all at once he fell fiat
On his all tours an stuck his face right
n the mire. Then, Uncle Alb 1 heard
i'm prayin' couldn't catch what he
vas sayin', fer It was mostly groan
n grunts, but I heard i'm callini OF
iod. I heard i'm sayin': God he'll
le. God have mercyr''
You heard that, did your Abner ex
laimed. '.Are you sure you heart
1at?'
Yes, but that was all, Uncle Alb, an
we been mad at myself ever since feI
1ot rdnnin' on some'n' worth while.
late like rips to be beat in this thing
Abner was silent for a moment, thel
&c looked at Pole with a grateful
smile. I'm glad you watched i'm.
i
lost hope myself, but feel better now
Pole, the whole truth, proof an, all, is
locked up in Abe Fulton's heart an
soul. I've been hopin' that I could
stir up pity in i'm an git i'm to do the
right thing before God an man, an
I've been workin' to that end, but he
said some'n' jest now that made me
lose faith in that plan. In fact, was
beginnin' to fear that his conscience
was dead, but it ain't-it amt quite |
Pole, a man killer that prays to God |
while his hands are wet with his vic |
TINS blood amt hopeless. You didn't |
know it, but you've brought me the |
only news that could keep my hopes
alive. Good night, Pole. must goI
in.''
GOOD night, Uncle Alb. I'm due at |
home too. I amt a prayin' man, but
feel like it sometimes-I feel like it /
when I hear a Teller like you talk as
you are a-doin' now You are the best
al round link betwixt, this world and
the next that ever run across, an eff
ever git to heaven it will be by hang
n onto yore coattau.''
The next morning after he had left
Mary at the office Abner walked
around to The Jail, taking a quiet side
street to avoid passing through the
business section of the town.
Abner assembled the narrow stairs
slowly Theirs flight was rather
lark, and he had to place his feet care
July. However, there was more light
n the neighborhood of Towards cell,
md as<Abner drew near the bars he
Jaw Howard rise from his cot at his Il
lpproach and stand peering through
he squares at him.
Hello, Howardi How are you, my
'oy?" Abner asked, mastering his emo
ion with difficulty and trying to speak
n a cheerful, ofhand tone.
ooh, I'm all right, Uncle Alb How
re your" Abner was dismayed at the !
hange in Howard's appearance since
lie had last seen him., He was paIer
nd thinner, and worry had cut deep
ines in his face. His eyes glowed with
he fire of despair. His hair stood
fifty .awry; and his hands qufvered as
hey clutched the bars. ct say I'm all !
light, but I don't know that am any /
hing to boast of. am only flesh and /
lood, after all, and this is a pretty I
ough situation. I try to hope. I keep t
aging TO myself that it will come out
light, but sometimes I doubt it
now what I've got to face in my trial,
nd there is hardly one chance in a :
of escaping the gallows. The ;
more I think about it the worse the f
1tuation seems
ooh, you are blue,'' Abner returned. g
nsteadilJ. confinement has upset s
ore liver. 1t will do it fer the stout ]
st constitutions. You must keep up I
Lope. The editorials you are writing I
re the finest things you ever done.
hen thar's Mary-think Of her, How
rd.'' = 6
Abner saw a look of inexpressible :
enderness suffuse the wan, steel :
ramed face and heard the prisoner :
Ugh. :
Lord, Lord, Uncle Ab,'' he said. ST
eldom think of-any one else here of t
ate. If I am condemned to death I'll :
AIRY to the end the sweet thought of :
What she has been and is to me. That 6