Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1918-07-27
The Light IN
the CLEARING
Bv IRVING BACHELLER
Copyright 1917. The Bobbs- Merriu Co.

speak ner nothln'. Where do We
suppose he was when I found hirn9'
"In bed ?" I asked
mo. sir-no. stree, lie was in
hell-that's where he was-reg La
Oh fashioned, down-cast hell. burn
in with fire an brimstun, that he'd
had the agency for an had recon-
mended TO every sinner in the
neighborhood. He was sattin' fin his
room. God o. Isrel, You ortD a
seen the motions he made with his
| hands an the way he tried 10 speak
when / went in there, but all /
could hear was just a long cell an
kind of a rattle in his throat
Heavens an airth, how desperit he
tried 70 spit out the thing that was
gna<$fn' his vitals. Agin an agIn
he'd try to tell me. Lord God, how
he did work!
"All at once it come across ne
what he wanted-quick as We could
say scat. He wanted to have Hates
headstun took down an put away
that's what he wanted. That stun
was kind o. layin' on his stummhk
an painin of him day an night
He couldn't stan it, He knew tha,
he was goin' to die purity soon an
that Kate would come here an see
il an that everybody would see her
standin' here by her own grave an
il worried him. II was kind o. like
a fire in his belly.
81 guess, too, he couldn't bear the
idee o. layin' down for his las
, sleep beside that hell hole he'd dug
fer Kate-no, sir.
oval, We know, mister, I jes'
shook my head an never let on
that I knew what he meant an let
him wiggle an twist like a worm on
q hot gTiddle, an heller like a cut
bull til he fell back in a swooH.
Damn him! it don't give him no
rest. He tries to tell everybody he
| sees-that's what they say. He
bellers day an night an if you 60
down there he'll heller 70 you an
you'll know what it's about, but the
others don't.
"You an me are the only ones
| that knows the secret, | guess.
Some day, fore he dies, I'm goin'
| to take up that headstun an hide
/ il, but he'll never know it's done
no, sir-not til he gifts TO the judg-
ment seat, anyway"
The old man stopped and rubbed
his hands together as if he were
washing them of the whole matter
/ The dusk of evening had fallen and
/ crooked the white marble and
eblurTed the lettered legends around
us. The messy stones now remind
ed me only Of the innumerable host
OF the dead. Softly the notes of
song sparrow scattered down into
/ the silence that followed the strange
story.
The old man rose and straight
ened himself and blew ont his
breath and brushed his hands upon
! his trousers by way OF stepping
down into this world again out Of
the close and dusty loft of his mem
DRY. But l called him back.
what has become Of Enoch?' l
asked.
Wal, sir. Enoch started OF west
( bout three years ago an we amt
heard a word from him since that
day-nary a word, mister. I SUP
pose we viii some time lie grew
into a good man, but there was
( kind of a queer streak in The blood,
as we might say, on both sides kind
o. We've wrote letters out 20 Wis
consin, where he was p.lutin' for
an to places on the way but we
can't git no news bout him. Meboe
lie was killed by the Injuns.'
We walked out Of the graveyard
/ together. Dimly above a distant
ridge l could see stark, dead timber
/ looming on a scarlet cloud IN the
twilight. 1t is curious how care
/ fully one notes the setting Of the
scene in which his spirit has been
/ deeply stirred.
| could see d glimmcr of a light
in the thicket Of pines down the
valley. l unhitched and mounted
my horse.
Take the first turn 70 the right
said the old man as he picked I9'
his scythe.
I'm very much obliged to you
l said.
"No. ye amt nuther," he an
swered. 'Leastways there amt no
reason why We should be-
(Coqtinued Monday