Tombstone epitaph., 1917-04-01
TIPPECANOE ;:::::: E: !: s::: :; :: E: S; ; s:: = - edaywhn p8e By SAMUEL MCCOY red the Indiana wilderness
 OgyndaH HsyB sNnm

The glow leaped up aSaln, anu III iis momentary glare David caught sight of his face, struck GU: against the sn,- rounding shadows, like face which some dead master of the brush had painted-dark, cruel, weak, contemp- tuous. But his reply was never spo- ken.-
 The cold chill of the stones on which he lay had su4f deeper and deeper into David's bokes. With the grip of desperation, he strove to hold his teeth together, but in spite of himself suddenly there burst from his lips, with the staggering unexpected ness of thunderclap, n paroxysm of coughing.
 With a single leap. Girty had reached the spot where David lay. David's head had vanished with an even greater speed. But Girty's only | thought was to seize the wooden bucket and dash its contents on the fire, plunging the room into instant darkness. David heard the sharp whisper of Scull's command. We are watched. Go out at once. Captain Girty, you will be the first. Mir. Cranmer, second, If you please. will follow"
 The thing which David did then was | probably his salvation. It occurred to him that his chance of meeting Scull single-handed was greater If he should return to the pitch-dark shop than if he remained in the street And this he did.
 When he had crawled soundlessly back into the sInithy, kicking of his | shoes outside. he was just in. time to see the door opened and the figure of the first man, Girty, faintly outlined in the aperture. Unseen, unheard. David stole forward. Then the door | opened wider to allow the heavy fig ure of Cranmer to emerge. And then 1 Scull, the third man, went out With the quickness of death, David glided at his heels.
 He had picked up heavy horse shoe on the floor of the snithy, the first weapon that had come to hand. The tall figure was just before him. His arm rose; and even as the heavy weapon hung in the air, Scull pushed open the door of cabin that stood next the smithy and vanished.
 David heard the door close again and the heavy wooden bar dropped across 1t on the inside. For a mo- ment he stood dumfounded. Girty and Cranmer had disappeared. David walked on slowly, breeding over plans for the morning, and found himself Ut the river, talking to itself in the night. He became aware that he still held something in his hand; and looking down, beheld the horseshoe. He tossed 1t into the stream and went back to the tavern.
 For many days. after that his rag ged, discarded shoes lay unnoticed at the lew aperture of lsrael's smithy.
 David awoke in the morning as fresh as the day. But day brought with 1t the demand that he take up his new work; and he crossed the square to Colonel Posey's store. scan. ming the village sharply as he went
 He hurried to the cabin by the blacksmith's shop. An honest-faced woman, with a brood of babies cling. ing to her skirts, answered his knock
 "Scull?" she replied to his query mo, nobuddy by thet name Twin here My man Is Israel Butt, thar at tn forge" She was positive that nc such person as Scull lived In the vii lage; her husband was equally at q loss to remember the name; and Da vid, confident as he had been, was forced to turn away. baffied by theil honest perplexity. The man had dis appeared as completely as thougf he had been swallowed up in tht earth.
 Stupefied. David made his way tC Cranmer's lodgings. He had no ide; what he would say to the man, bu his steps took him mechanically tC the door. And there he received ; second shock. Cranmer was gone his daughter with him!
 Whither?
 His question brought the reply tha they had said they were going to Yin cennes. David's friend, John Tipton the hunter and militiaman, was ther' -he would send Johnny a letter t warn him and Governor Harrison , against Cranmer, Girty and Scull, an' telling of their talk of an Indian up rising.
 He returned to his store, wrote tn letter, sent 1t on by post. That done he could do no more. except walt il patience for Cranmer's return.