The Adair County news., 1921-10-11

A Great GIadness Filled EIizabeth's
Heart,
word. But It didn't matter. John K.
Dale understood perfectly.
Then he took his arm away, faced to
the right, and drew his hat rim low
over his eyes. For two minutes he
stood there and looked for the little old
cabin down near the foot of the north
end Of the mountain, and he failed to
find 1t. His mind had gone back once
more to that woeful night that had cut
his life in twain. He remembered
plainly waking in the early morning
with an aching head and with the
ranking taste Of much dead whisky
In his mouth. Remembered seeing Da-
Sid Moreland, with a bullet hole
through and through him, lying on the
floor beside him. Remembered his
horror, his smothered cries Of anguish,
and his hurried fight. -.
He had wondered, he remembered,
why the law made no attempt to track
him down. He had not known that the
mountaineer's code of honor demands
that the mountaineer himself collect
that which Is due him.
'Tell me-" he said in tones so low
that Elizabeth barely heard, where is
David Moreland buriedT"
He had turned, and stood facing her.
She pointed to the southwark.
"They buried him out the crest O.
the mountain a little ways, on the
highest place, by the side Of his
wife. That was always a touchin'
thing to me, that he buried his wife on
the very highest point of his own
mountain. You know why, don't you?
David Moreland believed in God and
hereafter, and he believed that heaven
was up. He wanted to get even his
wife's ashes as close to heaven as he
could"
"I-Pd like to go out there" John
Dale said, his voice almost a whisper.
I'D like to see the place."
81 wouldn't" replied Ben Little
ford's daughter. For she knew-oh,
she knew.
Eyes, yes, my dear-I must see the
place." declared John X. Dale, hoarse-
ly whispering-"let's go out there"
There was never any disobeying him
when he was determined, and he was
determined now. 1t is strange, that
dread human thing that drew him
Elizabeth turned and started out
the snowy crest of the mountain, wend-
ing her way here and there between
clumps of snOw-heavy laurel and ivy
and under snow-heavy pines. After a
quarter of an hour Of this somewhat
difficult travelling, the two drew up be-
fore a small inclOSure made of round
oaken posts and round open ratings
and hand-split and pointed oaken pal
ings as high as mans shoulders, all
en-. Elizabeth knew the spot well. She
swung the gate stiffly open on its wood
en- hinges and stepped inside. Old Dale,
trembling in every fiber, followed her.
His face was very, very pale.
Before them were two snow-covered
mounds bOrdered with the dead stalks
of flowers Of another year-marigOlds,
pretty-by-nights, zinnias. Near the
two graves there grew bare-branched
wild honeysuckle and redbud, and
green-leaved laurel, which in the sum-
mer time were covered with beautiful
and fragrant blossoms of golden yell
low, royal purple, and waXen white. At
the head of one mound a great, rough
ly-shaped slab of brown sandstone
marked the last resting place of David
Moreland's young wife; il had been
lettered by David MOreland himself,
and 1t was crude but sincere tribute
to womankind.
On the face of the other great slab
of brown sandstone were chiseled other
ill-shaped letters and misspelled
words. The hands of John Moreland
had done this. Old John Dale stepped
unsteadily closer and read:
HEAR LAYS DAVID MoRELAND
THE BEST MAN GOD
EVER MAID
KILLED
BY JOHN x cARLILE
MAY GOD
DAM HIS
SOLE
It was living curse, breathing
curse-a terrible anathema. If dead
David Moreland himself had arisen
from the tomb and uttered it. it would