Webster City freeman. [volume] (Webster City, Hamilton County, Iowa) 1884-1946, 1916-01-18

| hlSuC uOWu mere III AudIuSOu COuu.lSci
Where they have no church Of Tour
Lord, @ .a9ss. TN
Frank Smith sold Pate Art'b'ry some
whisky,
I And caused him to get sh.t in the
ford
His fellows, In all solemnity, took
UP the ludicrous chorus and TRUMPET.
ed it through their noses. n
Oh, whisky's the root Of all evil,
It fills up drunkard's he'll;
So why not vote out this old evil
And say farewell, whisky, farewell!
smiled as l thought how little they
were changed from the radc retainers
in an old, oak raftered hall Of .feudal
England. ! felt as remote from civil.
cation as though I.were living behind
the moat and draw bridge OF some enl.
battled baron. In such place any.
thing might happen.
And then, as tie singers fell silent
again I became aware Of a faint and
distant sound Of voices. The hound
8 hich lay curlcc upon the top step OF
lie porch rose and shifted the keen
cir, mis- hr:stles rising. In moment
his was off iowa.; the road. barking
blatantly.
The voices became fore distinct.
and I moved from my position IL the
moonlight to the corner Of the house
where the shadow fell back enough to
swallow me. AS l die so shuffling
of feet in the lott t.ld me that the
men in there had also caught the
sound. The approaching party must
be coming to this house, since we had
no neighbor within three-quarters OF
a mile and the road ran OUT and end
ed at our gate.
Shortly group OF shorsemen came
into view, climbing The hill quarter
OF q 1.jle away. They seemed to be
riding close together, knee to knee,
and except when they crossed the in
tervals of the moons spotlight one
could see them only in massed effect.
They came to q halt in the shadow
at a little distance from the gate.
The noiseless opening OF q door and
monentary glimpse Of a stealthy,
rifle armed figure slipping out into the
shadow Of the Kitchen assured me OF
the preparedness Of the impecunious
clansmen who played the watch dogs
for their keep.
Then loud and aifable voice from
the road gave greeting:
''Hello, Cal Marcus!"
There was no immediate reply.
Those inside were waiting more con-
elusive guarantee of pacific intent.
Seemingly amicable salutations shout
ed from the night had before now
brought householders into the excel
lent target Of a lighted door where
they had lain down and died.
Hello, Cal Marcus" called the
voice again; we're comm IN"
'Who be ye?" challenged a voice
from the inteGi9Es#sts.{ 7Onit sconae till
we know who We be-"
In the next moment started vio-
lently and found myself in tremor
from head to foot, for the voice which
answered the question was wont
ans voice. and 1t was the voice Of rich
contralto which had once heard and
often imagined. .
''1t's /, Frances Weighborne, was
the response, "and some gentlemen
who rode over with me from the
train"
The man in the shadow of the
kitchen came out from his conceal.
ment and started down to the gate,
swinging his rifle at his side. A door
opened and framed the emaciated,
half clad figure of Galloway Marcus.
"Come right in, ma'am." he shouted.
The group rode up into the light and
dismounted.
saw her come In at the gate. The
moonlight was full upon her, and
stood like thief, held fast in a par
alysis Of jealousy and worship.
This was no place for me. i, OF all
men in the world. could least endure,
or be endured, at that greeting be-
tween Weighborne and the wife who
had ridden these mountains to be with
him.
He and I had lahored across those
twenty miles in wagon by daylight.
/ could guess what it meant at night
and in the saddle-and she had done
It!
She had come alone, except for, such
chance escort as she could recruit ct
the mining town; ana now, as she
walked in the moon oath OF the clear
ing, there was not man of them all
who carried himself with so free and
unwearied stride.
She was dressed in q short riding
skirt and a heavy sweater. Her shout
ders swung back as free as an In
dams, and I knew at that moment.
and without doubt, that this was the
elusive lady Of Europe who had walk.
ed out OF Shepherds hotel the night
when sat on the terrace.
She was no fragile ornament of
drawing rooms; she was the woman
who strobe like a goddess and for