Alma record. (Alma, Mich.) 1878-1928, 1922-03-09


Is C5rIyIe%
That's dlf'rent." Hhe mountain
GERS countenance became lighter.
This man I'm a-thinkin' about, he
was from West virglnny. l hope you
won't hold nothin' ag'in me TO actin
up that away. i couldr { hep ii, shore,
II seems. You'll know how / felt when
tell We about II, Mr.. Dale. i owe it
TO We to explain. Jest a minute"
He stepped into the cabin and
brought out another chair. sat down
heavily and crossed his legs. Dale,
too sat down.
"The mountain you had 10 come
over TO come here, Mr.. Dale" More
land began, his big voice filled with
an old, old sorrow, 'is knowed as Da-
vid Moreland's mountain mostly be-
cause David Moreland is buried in the
very highest place on top of it, him
and his wife. He was my brother. and
WAS the best brother man ever had.
1t was allus the talk o the neighbor-
hood how much we liked each other
Up ontel the time he was married /
went with him whar he went, and he
went with me whar l went. I'd fight
TO him. and he'd fight TO me. It's
hard to tell, even after this long
time. 80.
David, he was stranpin' big man.
like all o. the Morelaphs. He was
about yore size. and grey-eyed like
you, and lie had brown hair like you.
When you walked up to the gate, it
made me think o. him the day he was
married; he was all dressed up in
dark blue like you. :. . Then David
he went up here one summer and
found this vein O. coal. He got law
full p'sessi0n o the mountain, and
moved his wife up here. The rest of
MS lived over in the Laurel Fork coun-
try then.
zone day / got letter from David,
which said that man named John X.
Carlyle was a-goin' to buy his noun
tain and the coal, and said that his
wife was powful sick. A week later
she died, and left baby which died,
too. accordn' TO old Injun by the
name o. Cherokee Joe, who knowed
my pap and knowed David. And
month later we was all dragged from
our beds by this same Cherokee Joe,
tellin' us that Carlyle had shot David.
| Carlyle, Cherokee Joe said. was
a-drinkin' hard. The Ipjun seed the
shootin' through window.
at was might nigh TO three days
later when we got here and found
pore David a-layin' whar he'd fell.
We secured the mountains 70 miles
and miles around in s'arch 70 the
| dawg who killed him, but we never
found him. -. The land up here
looked purity, and It belonged TO us
by Davids death; so we all moved up
here to live, and built us cabins.
| Major Bradley found out about the
end o. my brother, and he wanted us
to put the case in the hands o the
law. But we wouldn't do il. A More
| land never goes TO law ABOUT anything.
He pays his own debts, and he collects
what is his due"
John Moreland arose and paced the
porch floor which creaked under his
weight. He stopped before Dale, and
went on sadly:
! Now ye'll know why was so much
tore up when heered yore name, the
Carlyle part. John h. Carlyle killed
the best man at ever lived. And meb-
be yell understand why we amt never
had the conscience TO sell the coal,
which cost Brother David his life"
Moreland's guest sat staring absent
ly toward a brown-winged butterfly
that was industriously slipping honey
| from the heart Of q honeysuckle
bloom. He gave no sign that he had
heard anything out OF the ordinary,
but in an odd, persistent way his mind
seemed TO connect his father, John X.
Dale. with the story he had just heard
John X. Dale had come originally
from West Virginia, and he had fatty
refused, time upon time, to make any
investigation of the Moreland coal
property.
The hillman interrupted young
Dale's thinking:
"Addie, she's a-goln' to have dinner
ready purity soon. Would we like to
wash, Mr.. Dalel"
"Yes," was the answer, and In the
tones Of Bill Dales quiet voice there
was a shade of meaning that More
land did not catch. "Yes, I'd like to
wash"
| Continued next week.