Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1919-01-15

l peereQ through the pushes. Inc
light was unchanged. could see
quite clearly. The horses were gone.
It was very still. The stranger lay
helpless in the road and figure was
bending over him. It was a man with
handkerchief hanging over his face
with holes cut opposite his eyes. He
had not seen my fall and thought, as
learned later, that had ridden away.
His gun lay beside him, it's stock
toward me. I observed that a piece
of wood had been split off the lower
side Of the stock. jumped to my feet
and seized a stone to hurl at him As
/ did so the robber fled with gun in
hand. If the gun had been loaded
suppose that this little history would
never have been written. Quickly ]
hurled the stone at the robber. I re.
member it was a smallish stone about
the size of hens egg. / saw it Craze
the side of his head. I saw his hand
touch the place which the stone had
grazed. He reeled and nearly fell and
recovered himself and ran on, but the
little stone had put the mark of Cain
upon him. "a
The stranger lay still in the road.
lifted his head and dropped 1t quick.
ly with a strange sickness. The feel
of it and the way 1T fell back upon the
ground when let go scared me, for ]
knew that he was dead. The dust
around him was wet. I ran down the
hill a few steps and stopped and
whistled to my filly. I could hear her
answering whinny far down the dusty
road and then her hoofs as she gal.
Hoped toward me. She came within a
few feet of me and stood snorting. ]
caught and mounted her and rode to
the nearest house for help. On the
way I saw why she had stopped. A
number of horses were feeding on the
roadside near the log house where An.
drew Champion lived. Andrew had
just unloaded some hay and was back.
ing out Of his barn. I hitched my
FLY and jumped ON the rack saying: :
'.Drive up the road as quick as you
can. A man has been murdered"
What fearful word it was that ]
had spoken! What panic it made in
the little dooryard! The man gasped
and jerked the reins and shouted to
his horses and began swearing. The
woman utteHed little scream and the
children ran crying to her side.
The'physical facts which are further
related to this tragedy are Of little
moment to me now. The stranger was
dead and we took his body to our home
and my uncle set out for the constable.
Over and over again that night I told
the story Of the shooting. We went to
the scene Of the tragedy with lanterns
and fenced it off and put some men
on guard there.
In the morning they found the rob-
berS footprints in the damp dirt Of
the road and measured them. The
whole countryside was afire with ex-
citement and searching the woods and
fields for the highwayman.
The stranger was buried. There was
nothing upon him to indicate his name
or residence. Weeks passed with no
news Of the man who had slain him. I
had told of the gun with piece Of
wood broken out Of its stock. but no
one knew Of any such weapon in or
near Lickitysplit.
One day Uncle Peabody and I drove
up to Grimshaw's to make payment
Of money. l remember it was gold
and silver which we carried in a little
sack. l asked where Amos was and
Mrs. Grimshaw-a timid, tlred-looking,
bony little woman who was never seen
outside of her own house-said that
he was working out on the farm of
Mr.. Beekman near Plattsburg. He had
gone over on the stage late in June
to hire out for the haying. observed
that my uncle looked very thoughtful
as we rode back home and had little
to say.
"YOu never had any idee who that
robber was, did ye?" he asked by and
by.
"No--I could not see plain--it was
SO QuSh, L Sdlu.
The swift words "Your money or
your life" came out of my memory
and rang in it,. l felt its likeness to
the scolding demands of Mr.. Grim
shaw, who was forever saying in eff
feet:
HYour money or your home!" >
That was like demanding our lives,
because we couldn't live without our
home. Our all was in it. Mr.. Grim
shaw's gun was the power he had over
us, and what a terrible weapon 1t
was! 1 credit him with never realiz-
ing how terrible.
We came to the sandhills and then
Uncle Peabody broke the silence by
saying:
II wouldn't give fifty cents for as
much O. this land as q bird could fly
around in day."
Then fer a long time I heard only
the sound of feet and wheels muffied
in the sand, while my uncle sat look
ing thoughtfully at the siding. When
I spoke to him he seemed not to hear
me.
Before we reached home knew
what was in his mind, but neither
dared speak of it.
People came from Canton and all
the neighboring villages to see and talk
with me, and among them were the
Dunkelbergs. Unfounded tales of my
bravery had gone abroad.
Sally seemed to be very glad to see