The Bottineau courant. (Bottineau, Bottineau County, N.D.) 1895-1929, 1921-11-03

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looked like one searching Ia the dust
for something very precious The
strong heart of Samson was touched
BY the sorrowful look Of her - that
he could not speak.
Soon he WASHABLE 70 say IN 1 low,
trembling voice:
'In every letter he tells Of his love
for you. That article In the paper
was a cruel mistake"
After a little silence BIN rose from
the ground. She stood, FOR q moment,
.wiping her eyes. Her form straight
ened and was presently erect. Her
soul resented the injustice she had
suffered. There was q wonderful and
touching dignity in her voice and
amer when she asked: why didn't
he write to met"
HE must have written to you"
Sadly, calmly, thoughtfully, she
spoke as she stood looking or at the
fading glow In the west:
1T is terrible how things a work
together to break the heart and will
Of q woman Write to Harry and tell
him that he must not come to. see me
again. 1 have promised to marry an
other man." ~
II hope it isn't Davis" said Samson.
ut is Davis" &.E ~
II don't like him. I don't think he's.
honest" @ =. srt,. &
"But he has been wonderfully kind
to us. Without his help we couldn't
have lived. We couldn't ever have
given my father a decent burial"
HAS he been out here to see your
"No."
"And he won't come. That man
knows how to keep out Of danger. l
don't believe you'll marry him."
"Why?" -. @
Because I intend to be a father to
you and pay all your debts" said
Samson.
The doctor called from the door Of
the cabin.
BIN said: "God bless you and
Harry" as she turned away to take
up her task again.
That night both Of them began, as
they say, to put two and two together.
While he rode on in the growing dusk
the keen intellect Of Samson saw a
convincing sequence Of circumstances
the theft Of the mail sack, the false
account Of Harry's death, the failure
of his letters to reach their destina-
ton, and the fact that BIN had &C.
copied money from Davis in time Of
need. A strong suspicion Of foul play
grew upon him and he began to con-
slider what he could do in the matter.
Having forded q creek he caught
the glow Of a light in the darkness,
a little way up the road. 1t was the
lighted window Of a cabin, before
whose door he stopped his horse and
hallooed:
II am a belated and hungry traveller
on my way to Chicago" he said to
the man who presently greeted him
from the open doorway. p
Have you come through Honey
Creek settlement the latter asked.
LEFT there about an hour ago."
"Sorry, mister, but l can't let you
come into the house. II you'll move off
a few feet I'll lay some grub on the
chopin block n up the road about
a half-mile you'll find a barn with
some hay in it, where you and your
horse can spend the night under
cover" 49, =
Samson moved away and soon the
man brought a package of food and
laid it on the block and ran back to
the door.
"rll lay a piece Of silver on the
block" Samson called.
mot a darned cent, the man an
swered. II hate like pison to turn a
Teller away In the night, but we're
awful skeered here with children in
the house. Good-by. You can't miss
the barn. It's close ag'in' the road
Samson ate his luncheon in the dark
ness, as he rode, and presently came
upon the barn and unsaddIed ant
hitched and fed his horse in one end
of 1.-THE beast having drunk his fill
at the creek they had lately forded-
and lay down to rest for the night,
with the saddle blanket beneath him
ard his Goa for a cover. A wind
from the north began to wall and
whistle through the cracks in the barn
and over it's roof, bringing cold wealth
er. Samson's feet and legs had been
wet in the crossing so that he found
it difficult to keep warm. He crept
to the side of his horse, which had
laid down, and found a degree Of COM
fort in the heat of the animal. But
it was a bad night, at best.
1--WE had many a long, hard night,
but this is the worst of Them" Sam
son thought.
There's many a bad night il" the
history of the pioneers, it's shadows
falling on lonely, Unmarked roads,
cut by rivers, creeks and marshes and
strung through u~nnumbered miles of
wild country. Samson was up and
off at daylight in a bitter wind and
six inches Of snow. It was a kind of
woik he would not have undertaken
upon any call less commanding than
that OF friendship.
He reached Chicago at noon, having
had nothing to eat that day. There
was no such eager. noisy crowd In the
streets as he had seen before. The
fever Of speculation had passed. But
there were many people on the main
thoroughfares, among whom were
Europeans who had arrived the
autumn before. They were changing