The Owosso times., 1917-01-19

| Joe gulped. .Jim's big form ant
handsome face rose In his mind. jim
was the baby and had always beer
nearest To old Joe's heart. All the res
had gone the way Of the feudists.
vision of Jim topplihg from some higt
elf with bullet I'm his heart passed
through his thoughts. and Joe's chin
sank on his breast.
TON. ye're cOuntin' purity fast" he
said presently. lifting his head again
Maybe the bullet will come the otheI
way"
Maybe SO. Some have come thai
way in time."
1t was Joe's turn to grin.
Don't reckon ye've got any talk ye
want to make afore silt that vein in
yer neck. Joe?" Tom had drawn O
knife from his pocket and was whet.
ting a small blade Of 1t on the leather
vamp OF his SHOE
mo. guess not, Tom. an II ye're de
termined to do 1t that way there's nc
use wastin' any more time. though II
amt the clean thing. Tom. an We know
it. Amt nary a Dunston before that
died any other way than by a long
range bullet. That's all. Tom-all I got
to say"
Old Tom chuckled and continued to
whet the blade of his knife. At length
he tried the point of it with his thumb
and was apparently satisfied with its
keenness. Then he arose and went
over to Joe. where he knelt by the lat
ter's side.
Look around. Joe," he said. "for
where ye see all the sunlight now will
be midnight to ye In few minutes.
Ye're brave man. an it's a pity for
ye to die this way. but there amt no
regulations in the feud. We know"
Tom began to feel about Joe's neck
for the vein and presently pressed 1t
outward with his thumb. Joe had
thrown his head backward, and Tom
was bending low and looking upward
under his victims chin. Presently the
sting of the knife thrust started old
Joe into madness. His head darted for.
ward with the suddenness of a SER
pent's. and his long, amber hued teeth
snapped down upon the throat Of his
captor. There was a gurgle in Toms
throat; then his windpipe closed, and
as Joe's lifeblood. gushing from the
wound in his neck, dyed the young ivy
shoots and the green grass in the bot
tom Of the gorge the death set of his
jaws sealed the doom of his slayer. In
a little while every quiver of the flesh
had ceased, and one more tragedy of
the feud had left Its story more plainly
readable than words could make 1t.
The midday sun looked down into
the chasm. A pheasant preened herself
In narrow trail among the laurel
while woodcock ran up the tall. limb
less trunk of dead spruce pine and
after shrill call that pierced the deep
silence Of the gorge sent out the long.
low roll of his drumming
Ruth Wylie stood in the cabin door
way watching the trail that led down
the ravine, winding from one side to
the other as it sought the easier ascent
or descent Of the projecting bowlders.
Darkness was stealing slowly up from
the depths of the hollow, and still no
sign of old Tom gliding along up the
path in his habitually stealthy manner.
Dads uncommon late tonight, It
pears to me-" The girl took a step
down and sat upon the doorsill. Her
cheeks glowed like red ripe cherries in
the sunshine, for she had been bending
over the evening fire baking the corn
pone and frying the bacon for the
nights meal. From the table came the
odor Of the meat. 1t floated out through
the doorway on the evening atmos-
phere and was appetizing to the sense
IF dad could smell the meat reckon
he'd be comm home without waitin
any longer. | wonder what he can be
doin' anyhow"
Affecting of uneasiness darted through
her as she thought of the feud; but.
suddenly rising, as If to escape some
burden, she hurled the thought from
her. "'Tain't that: no. 'tain't that"
she declared as she sat down again.
But the twilight deepened into dark
ness, the stars came out. the meat grew
cold on the table, and its odor no longer
told Of its savor. Still old Tom had
not come. Ruth peered into the dark
ness Mt every cracking of the twigs.
but nothing materialiZed to her long
ing. 1t had been years since old Tom
had spent II night away from home.
not since the night when young Tom
was shot down on the side Of Little
Craggy The girl fell to counting the
stars and saying 70 herself:
Before | can count hundred he
will be here"
But the hundred grew to 200 then to
300. Then she began and counted them
all over again. Hour after hour dragged
away, and the moon had climbed to a
position in the heavens whence its
light shone down the cabin chimney.
The occasional hoot Of an owl or the
cry Of a catamount pierced the silence
and fell upon Ruth's ear with startling
effect, though these were but common
noises of the night. Again and again
came the thought of the feud, but Just
as often as 1t came. shuddering. she
cast 1t from her.
1T can't be, II can't be-" she invaria.
bly, murmured. Dads too quick for
that"
The moon slipped over the roof of the
cabin, and Ruth watched the shadow