Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1919-06-25

leaving him standing IN the middle OF
the room, perplexed but amused.
"By George" he said to himself, still
staring at the closed door, they're
wonders, all of them. I wish I could
do something to help them out Of"
He sat down abruptly on the edge of
the bed and pulled his wallet from his
pocket. He set about counting the
bills, calculating frown in his eyes.
Then he stared at the ceiling, sum.
ming up. "I'll do it." he said, after q
moment of mental figuring. He told
off a half dozen bills and slipped them
into his pocket The wallet sought its
usual resting>place for the night: I'm
der a pillow.
He was healthy and he was tired.
Two minutes, after his head touched
the pillow he was sound asleep.
He was aroused shortly after mid
night by shouts, apparently just out
side his window. A man was calling
in loud voice from the. road below !;
an instant later he heard a tremendous
pounding on the tavern door.
Springing out Of bed. he rushed to
the window. There were horses in
front Of the house -several of them
and men on foot moving like shadows
among them.
Turning from the window, he un.
locked and opened the door into the
ball. Some one was Gathering down
the narrow staircase. The bolts on
the front door shot back with resound.
ing force, and there came the hoarse
tumble of excited voices as men crowd.
ed through the entrance. Putnam
Jones' voice rose above the Glamour.
keep quiet! Do you want to wake
everybody on the placer he was say.
ing angrily. ~What's up? This Is a
due time o. night to be- Good Lord!
What's the matter with him?"
Telephone for a doctor, Put-damn'
quick! This ones still alive. The
other one is dead as door nail up at
Jim Conley's house. Git ole Doc
James down from Saint Liz. Bring
him In here, boys. Where's your light7
Easy now! Eas-ee"
Barnes waited to hear no more. His
blood seemed to be running ice cold
as he retreated into the room and be-
gan scrambling for his clothes The
thing he feared had come to pass. Dis
aster had overtaken her in that wild.
senseless dash up the mountain road.
He was cursing half aloud as he
dressed. cursing the fool who drove
that machine and who now was per-
haps dying down there In the taprOom.
''The other one is dead as door nal"
kept running through his head-"the
other one"
A dozen men were In the taproom,
gathered around two tables that had
been drawn together. The men about
the table, ON which was stretched the
figure Of the wounded man, were un-
doubtedly natives: Farmers, woods
men or employees Of the tavern. At a
word from Putnam Jones they opened
up and allowed Barnes to advance to
the side Of the man.
"See If you en- understand him, Mr..
Barnes" said the landlord. Perspira-
ton was dripping from his long, raw.
boned face. "And you, Bacon-you and
Dlllingford hustle upstairs and get a
mattress oft'n one Of the beds. Stand
at the door there. Pike, and don't let
any woman in here. Go away, Miss
Thackeray! This is no place for you."
Hiss Thackeray pushed her way
past the man who tried to stop her
and joined Barnes.
ut is the place for me-" she said
sharply. Haven't you men got sense
enough to put something under his
head? Where is he hurt? Get that
cushion, you. Stick it under here when
l lift his head. Oh, you poor thing!
Wen be as quick as possible. There"
The mans eyes were closed, but at
the sound Of a woman's voice he
opened them. The hand with which he
clutched at his breast slid Off and
seemed to be cropping for hers. His
breathing was terrible. There was
blood at the corners of his mouth, and
more oozed forth when his lips parted
in an effort to speak.
With courage that surprised even
herself, the girl took his hand in hers.
1t was wet and warm. She did not
dare look at 1t.
"Merci, madame" struggled from the
mans lips, and he smiled.
Barnes leaned over and spoke to him
in French. The dark, pain-stricken
eyes closed, and an almost imper-
ceptible shake Of the head signified
that he did not understand. Evidently
he had acquired only d few Of the
simple French expressions. Barnes
had a slight knowledge Of Spanish
and Italian, and tried again with no
better results. German was his Hast
resort, and he knew he would fail once
more, for the man obviously was not
Teutonic.
The bloody lips parted, however, and
the eyes opened with piteous, appeal
ing expression in their depths. 1t was
apparent that there was something he
wanted to say, something he had to
say before he died. He gasped dozen
words or more in tongue utterly I'M
known to Barnes, who bent closer to
catch the feeble effort. 1t was he who
now shook his head: with groan the
sufferer closed his eyes in despair. He
choked and coughed. violently an In
slant later.
"Get some water and a towel" cried