Alma record. (Alma, Mich.) 1878-1928, 1922-08-10

not have struck John Il. Dale with
greater force. He grew weak, as
though with a fatal sickness. He sank
10 his knees in the snow, and his iron
gray head fell forward TO his breast.
Elizabeth Littleford knelt in the snow
beside him. She tried to find comfort
ing words. for she loved him and was
sorry for him, but no words would
come.
There was a slight sound, the muf-
fed breaking OF a dry twig in the
snow just beyond the palings in front
Of them. Elizabeth LittlefOrd looked
up to see the giant figure of John
Moreland, whose face was white and
whose eyes were filed with the fire of
hate and anger who held rifle in his
cold, bare hands. The rifles hammer
came back, and the fine trigger caught
it with faint click.
Moreland took another step forward
and leycled the weapon across the
palings.
EFF it was any use 70 ye to pray,
Carlyle" he said, and his voice was
shaking and hoarse and choked, I'D
give We time. But il amt no use at all.
Look up. Face it. Try to be man Co
one second in yore low-down life"
Old Dale raised his head, saw David
Moreland's brother and realized all
there was to realize. His eyes widened
a little; then a look Of relief fitted
across his heavy countenance.
"Shoot and even up the score" he
said bravely, and his head was high.
According to your code, it is just. And
I'll be able TO forget at last, at last. SO
shoot and settle the account"
Moreland WINGED perceptibly. The
big. crooked finger came way from the
hair-fine trigger. He had never expect
ed to hear the man whom he knew as
John X. Carlyle say that which he had
just said. 1t had never entered his
mind that John X. carlyle could be
sorry.
Then the great and bitter desire for
revenge rushed into his brain again,
and his head went down. and his keen
right eye looked along the sights and
to the kneeling mans breast. His trig.
ger finger began slowly to crook
Until this instant Elizabeth Little
ford had been as one frozen, had been
as a figure carved in stone. Now she
sprang to her feet and went between
Moreland and his ancient enemy.
"Put at gun down-wait ontel ] tell
We, John Moreland, what I've got to tell
ye" she cried tensely, lapslng into the
old dialect in her excitement. While
Moreland stared, she went on:
ut wasn't Newton Wheatley at put
up the money to start yore coal mine
a-goin'; it was this man here And the
Alexander Crayfeld Coal corp'ration-
which has been a-payin you two prices
20. yore coal-that was this man here
Mr.. Hayes was his-his ally through it
all. And he's sorry, John Moreland,
this man ls-so sorry that he wants 10
die; and CANT ye see it, John More
land?"
She caught her breath again and
continued tearfully: ooh, he don't
desarve TO be killed. and Of ne did
you're too good a man TO kill him.
He's done paid-you don't know, like
l do, how he's paid. You mustn't
fo'get that. And you mustn't fo'get
Bill Dale, his son. Put down that gun.
John Morelandl Yore people is saved
as David wanted 'em saved. Now
d-d-don't go and ss-spoil it all, TO-
Gods salew
The big mountalneer's eyes were
wide with amazemcnt. for Elizabeth
Littleford's every word had borne the
ring of truth He was too dazod to
understand her allusion to Bill Dale
as his cid cncmy's son. The rifle came
back from across the palings, and its
steel -shod butt found a place In the
snow beside John Moreland's foot.
Slowly John *. Dale arose and
drew close to him, and then from
John X. Dales soul came pouring the
pent-up anguish of remorse that had
scared II through the years. The tor
rent of words flowed on, while the
mountaineer stood rigidly regarding
him with a strange light in his pierre
ing eyes.
III can't ask you to forgive me-"
Dale finished brokenly. ~ don't ex-
pect forgiveness; my crime was too
great But can't you. for the sake Of
the boy, let me keep Oh trying 20
atone for my sin?'
John Morcland looked long ana
searchingly into the face of the plead
ing man before him. The bitter
struggle that was going on within him
was mrrored on his rugged coun-
tenance But gradually the bitterness
faded; his huge frahe trembled: he
put hand slowly down on the others
shoulder.
The boy" he muitered-"Bnl Dale:
Is he gore boyf Yore name was Car
lyle then"
MY boy, .yes-my boy. Bill Dale.
Carlyle is an old family name. My
father was at the head of big coal
concern; he sent me down here in
cognitc TO get line on the Moreland
vein. Maybe he thought the price
would be high II II were known that
he wanted it; don't know. IL cant
remember"
Ben IittlefOrl's dauphfcr tvas