The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1922-06-15
Illustrations By =.
Irwin Myers -
~ b~ Dovbiodo x prCa & CO

81 keep my promises" was the quick
reply, "jest like every other Littleford
that ever lived kept their promises. /
would ha' went back this rhornin',
eff it hadn't ha' beer :"
And there she broke off abruptly.
After a silent moment, she continued
sadly, half tearfully: "And yet-and
| yet--the's not bit O. use In me
a-goin back nowl |"
"Why?" Dale was smiling, and she
was glad to note that he did not ap-
pear to be grieving over his misfor-
| tune.
"'Cause the ain't," simply.
"But you'll go?"
EYES," she said, ''in the mornin' I'll
| go"
! He bent toward her and held down
his hand. "Good-by. little girl. hope
it will come out all right and ! be-
lieve it WILL"
Babe slowly lifted her hand to his.
Her eyes were downcast.
"Good-by," she told him brOkenly.
"And hope 1t will come out all right,
too-God knows do, Bill Dale"
Thus they parted. Dale rode back
to the sheriff and Major Bradley, and
minute later the three of them start
ed for the lowland and Gainesville
| jail.
When bend in the dusty ox-wagon
road had hidden them from view,
Elizabeth Littleford turned homeward.
| Her mother followed her.
The younger woman dropped to the
stone step at the vine-hung front
porch with the air Of ona who Is very
tired, plucked full-blown marigold
and began absently to tear its petals
slowly apart. Mrs. Littleford looked
out across the meadows, sighed.
smoothed back her gray hair with
both hands, and sat down beside her
daughter.
81 wouldn't worry about 1t, Babe,
| honey" she finally said. Then she
too plucked a marigold and began TO
tear its petals slowly apart. EFF be
killed Adam Ball, 1t was to save him
self. He's good man, honey. ] think
he's about the best man I ever seed
Babe"
mo, he never killed Adam Ball to
save hisself even," Babe replied:
"He's a fighter, but he amt no killer.
Listen, mother, it might ha' been this
away:
"He is ahind Of tree, ard Adam is
ahind of another tree. Adam shoots
at his hat, and he shoots at Adams
hat-which is the reg'lar way OF
two-man fight, as you know. Well,
suddenly Adam he jumps up like he's
been shot, and falls a-grUanin' and
a-twistin'. Bill Dale, a-thinkin' he's
killed Adam, comes out from ahind OF
his tree. Havin' drawed Bill Dale out
into the open by his trick, Adam gifts
ready to shoot and kill him. Jest as
Adam is about to shoot, somebody else
shoots and kills Adam and saves Bill
Dale-mebbe the amt time TO- any
thing else. Now don't We see? And
don't it all sound natchel, motherY
II reckon it does" granted the old
woman. "But who was 1t shot Black
Adam?"
Somebody who is friend o. Bill
Dale's," said Babe. Somebody who
was a-follerin' Bill with the idee o.
pertectin' him eff he needed it. Some
body who knowed it was dangerous
fo' him to go off by hisself in the
woods that away. I've got it reasoned
out jest like this. !. And who
ever it was at was friend enough to
Bill Dale to kill a man to save him
will be friend enough to own up when
the proper time comes and keep Bill
Dale from a-bein' hung. Whoever 1t
was at done it is skeered bad now,
but later on he'll shore tell it, eff it'll
save Bill. You jest wait and see,
mother.
81 hain't never fo'got," Babe went
on, after a moment, "about Black
Adam Ball a-tellin' me about a-workin'
that same trick on a man over In
Nawth Ca'liner-and he killed the
man. The law never found 1t out.
And We see what Black Adam got.
who lives by the sword shall perish
by the sword It's in the Good Book,
mother, honey; and everything in the
Good Book is God A'mighty's truth, as
you know"
EFF Twas pinned down to guess who
1t was at done It," drawled Mrs. Lit
tleford, I'D guess It was BY Heck.
He was plumb fool about Bill Dale.
His NAV she says he talks in his sleep
about Bill Dale. He was allus a-fol-
lerin' him around like dawg."
Babe pointed to the meadow An
aged and stopped and witchlike wom-
an was limping slowly through the
clover, coming toward them.
"Granny Heck" muttered Babe.
The neighborhood's newsbearer and
fortune-teller Iimped on up to the
cabin, and dropped to the stone step
beside Ben Littleford's wife and
daughter.
LA, la, lar she painted, for the
days were warm. "And hain't 1t jest
turrible ! visit | may die this min
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