The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-09-20
WHISPERING FOOTSTEPS
 BY CHARLES ALBERT HALLE

strong will that had landed me in such fearful trouble. Because did. mt feel human any more, but just blind and helpless thing that wasn't any use in the world.
 I didn't want Emma or my mother ever to hear of me again, because I'd only be grief and burden to them And my only comfort was that I'd left them enough to live on for the rest of their lives.
 So a whole week passed, me liv- ing like hermit with the ha1f-breed,
 who just came and went shooting enough game to keep us going. was
 getting restless at last, and I got
 onto a trick to guide myself about in that desolate~pIace.
 I'd walk off the platesa and. reach
 a tree. Then I'd nip its bark in a
 way I'd recognize by the sense of
 feeling. And so on I'd go from tree to tree around the plateau, and even some distance away through the for
 est, marking trees. and in the end they got to be good friends of mine | and would lead me straight back to Hosey's shack
 One day I'd gone quite a ways through the trees when my sharpen | ed ears heard a distant cracking of I twigs. Somebody was riding up, and my blind mans sense told me it was | mt Hosey. Then voice rings through the woods:
 I'm trampln' trails from end to end, | And in every tramp I meet friend; When I've made a pile, you'll find me back. For m gonna get rich on rosin jack I got plumb into fever of tremb- ing when I heard those words, be- | cause I knew it was Reedy Gibbs coming, and he was one of the three ! men who had caught me in the Gan ado desert, whom I'd sworn to my | self I'd kill first chance I met them. was hugging my Mauser day and night in hope I'd yet run across them 1 and here this one was coming to meet | his fate.
 My breath was going hard and my | fingers twisted around the little gun
 hid in my pocket, when steps A.out from behind my tree right in front
 of the bronco.
 The old jack miner gives a sort of of guttural yell and drops off the
 pony's back. My God, buddy!" he cried, and it would seem he was hit 1 hard by the sight of my scared face
 and my sightless, upturned eyes, "Oh, buddy, don't tell me yo're blind-blind fo' keeps" he whispers
 in a sort of scared voice. You've said it," I answered, and all the while I was thinking whether I'd best fire through my pocket be- fore he had a chance to suspect me and defend himself. But I feared I might miss. God, buddy, 'twa'n't my deed,'' he continued in a piteous tone "I done l my bes' to save yo'"
 You tried to shoot me the first
 day we met" reminded him rough ly.
 "Yo' didn't understan' me, buddy" he expostulated. "I was only frin'
 att yore broncos. I didn't want yo'
 to reacht he Ganados fo' fear what Sinsmith might do to yo'.'' Sinsmith The shock of hearing | that name drove all thoughts of shoot | Reedy Gibbs out of my mind "who,s Sinsmith?" ?" I demanded duly But there wasn't any need for me to wait for an answer.
 I remembered Morehard's dying calculations: "Danger-to you both Sinsm1th-the Lizard" And on the jump I knew who Sinsmith was | Morehard's enemy, the man who | killed him and who blinded me- 'Sinsmith ?" repeated Gibbs. He's
 and of amigo O. mine-curse him.
 Been hangin' roun' Rfoville am liar | rison City fo' tn las three yeahs, | waitin' fo to git back a jack mine | a pal O his stole from him. But. boy yo' sho mus know Sinsmlth Want | he expectin' yo' fo' to pass through Harrison City an RfoviIle an yo' way | to tn Ganados? That's how he come
 to git me n Jimmy Roach with him. '' | Sinsmith was expecting me?" I
 asked.
 'Sho' we all knowed yo' was com | in pwa'n't charst run me acrost ! " jv,
 smiths had an cruel. Look out he | hates yo' bad.' l I'm past harming," responded
 gloomi1y.
 Don't yo beleive it, buddy" re-
 peated Gibbs earnestly. "They's
 worse can happen to yo'. Don't mean
 to tell yo' don know tn story O tn
 jack mine in tn Ganados? How Sin
 smith an his frien' Morehard went
 up tn mountains together?" "No", I said, wondering what new
 line of Morehard's history was about
 10 open before me.
 | Time yo' knowed it, boy,'' said the | old jack miner, shaking his head. l "T1 tell yo' what I know, an it must
 come mighty clus home to yo'.'' | And as we stood there in the woods
 together. Gibbs unfolded a story that | shook me cruel hard, as you shall
 find. He told it in his homely, ram bling way, but pieced together as he'd heard it from Sinsmith's lips,
 it was like I'll tell you
 This man, Edward Sinsmith, it | seemed had met Daniel Morehard some years before on a prospecting tour,
 and told him of a lost jack mine in Uvada. The two men got ready to
 go to look for the mine. This was
 a time when, the engineer made one of
 his flying visits home. and he took his friend Sinsmith with him. It was then this man Sinsmith
 first met Emma Morehard-yes, my own little girl, before I'd seen her
 and ne got crazy mad about her. Now