Greenfield Republican, Greenfield, Hancock County, 21 November 1895 — Page 7

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Bile opened tlie cloor it was noc ax au dark The moon had risen, and Conrath's shadow was thrown up against the side of tho house, as ho came along the piazza, walking with a heavy, careful step. He passed her at the door, neither noticing nor speaking to her, and, crossing the room, sank into a seat by the fire, without removing his hat.

Ho slouchcd in his chair, in a helpless, disorganized attitude, moving his eyes vacantly from her face to his own hands, which hung feebly in his lap.

She knelt before him, without touching him. She looked long in her brother's face, studying, with intense, heartbroken scrutiny, the familiar features, over which some mysterious, sickening influence had passed. The change was very slight. Mrs. Denny would have understood it instantly. Many of Conrath's friends would have been amused by it. Gradually the meaning of it came to Courath's sister, but it did not amuse her. She recoiled from him slowly, rising to her feet, a cold, incredulous disgust whitening her cheeks and her lips. It was too cruel a mockery of her reliance on him. Slio went away to her room and hid herself from the sight of him, leaving him to sleep off the effects of his "predilection." by the fire.

Cecil did not Bleep she lay in the darkness horn* after hour, shuddering, with dry, convulsive sobs. The trouble she had looked in the face that night slio knew was a wretchedly common one, but she had never believed that it could touch her own life. She reproached herself for deserting the shabby figure in the chair beforo the fire, but tonight she could not feel that it was her brother. If that were her brother, where then could she look for help?

She made no effort to see Conrath the next day in fact, she kept out of the way of seeing him until he had left the house. At noon she went to Molly with a note and asked her to see that Mr. Hilgard received it promptly. "You must give it to him yourself, Molly, or to Mr. West." "Thank you, Miss Cecil," said Molly, taking the note. "It may not do any good," the girl said, wearily, "and I am not doing it for you any more than for myself." "Did you sleep any the night, miss?" "Why should I sleep? Did you sleep yourself, Molly?" "I did, miss but the heart of me was wakin and dreamin. I dreamed Mr. Conrath was a-draggin you over the bridge, and him on Andy, and you was pullin back, but he had you by the hand and wouldn't let go." "It is easy to see how you came to dream that, Molly," said Cecil, a slow, painful blush burning itself upon her cheek. Do you remember my knocking at your door?" "Did you, miss? Last night, was it?" "Yes, it was last night, and it was Andy, not I, who wouldn't go over the bridge. My brother would not have to drag me if he wanted me to follow him anywhere."

Cecil kept by herself all day. She could not bear even Molly's eyes upon her while she was learning to bear the first pressure of the new and ignominious grief which she had put on like a garment of penitence under the soft robes of her girlhood.

CHAPTER IX.

The sun was just below the Shoshone hill. The black, denuded pines on the hilltop leaned toward each other, or stood erect against the yellow light that streamed upward and broadened outward, through a thin, gray cloud that overspread the western sky.

Cecil was hurrying down the unused trail to meet Hilgard at the blazed trees. She felt they would be safe there from interruption. Her heart was too heavy to flutter with girlish doubts and tremors. She sped along, beating back with her rapid footsteps the folds of her somber cloth dress.

Hilgard was waiting for her, walking about impatiently, one hand in the side pocket of his closely buttoned pea jacket, the other holding the cigarette he was mechanically smoking. She had kept him waiting three-quarters of an hour he was feeling half angry and cheated, and altogether disappointed, when he saw her coming among the gray stemmed aspens, that were dropping all their pale gold leaves in the grasp of the autumn winds. He started toward her at once, forgetting his grievance at the first sight of her face. She explained hurriedly that some ladies from the camp had called and detained her. "You know it is only trouble that brings me here."

He restrained some passionate exclamation, and said, as humbly and quietly as he could: "I knew, of course, it was not for your own pleasure or mine." 'And you must have known it was the old trouble—between the mines," she went on, without heeding his words. "I have thought of away that might make things less—less unhappy." She hesitated, and he waited for her to explain. "I have been told that you are likely to get the injunction against my— against the Shoshone there will be claims for damages against us which may be hard to settle"— "Against you—great heavens 1 They are not my claims, and they are not against your brother. Can't you make it more impersonal?" "I am afraid I cannot," she said gently. "Our side has been in the wrong. I believe that now. It is right that y6u

GREENFIELD REPUBLICAN THURSDAY NOV. 21 189ft.

"Why will you call it my triumph? If you could have the faintest idea what I'm paying for it!" "It is your triumph, and you will be associated with it if you stay to see it finished. And the failure and disgrace will be associated with—my brother. Wait a moment, please"— She put her hand up to the black scarf that swathed her throat, as if to & till the "climbing sorrow" there. "I have not come to apologize for my brother, but—I—I believe he has been deceived! He has had bad counsel. This is the first—first''—

She could not go on, and Hilgard bowed his head before her. "I am sure he has," she began again, in her voice of stifled misery. 'And this person v. ho I think has betrayed him is an enemy of yours. I am sure of that too. He is a man with an old grudge against you, and against youi* mine. No one can tell how much this may have been with him in his influence over my brother. Ke might never have shown it. Don't you see how it might imbitter a disputo like this and make it personal, and how much harder it would make the settlement? The triumph of your side would be very hard for your enemy to bear. You would be hated. "These old grudges are not so dangerous as you think men hold them till they get used to them, and take a certain satisfaction in them. I think I know the man you speak of, but there area great many men in tho camp with grudges against me. One expects that in a place of this kind." "You don't see what I mean," she said, with a despairing sigh. "I want you to remove part of the cause of this trouble before the time for the final settlement comes.'' "You want me to remove myself?" he asked.

Yes, I want you to go away and let some one else come to do that part. Then it will be only between the mines.'' "You ask me to resign?" "Yes, I do," she repeated, with sad persistence.

The words struck to the very core of his weakness. He had himself pondered the joyless situation and counted the cost of its issues. The injunction was certain to be granted, and tho suit for damages could but develop either inefficiency on Conrath\spart ora deliberately dishonorable policy. If that policy had been successful it was not likely that any questions would have been asked at the Shoshone office, but unsuccessful rascality was not likely to find favor even with Courath's "company." The triumph of the Led Horse would be complete. The arrears of its expenses could be paid out of the Shoshone ore bins. Hilgard's own infatuated tenacity, as it had probably seemed to his president, would be justified—and then? He would go on living on his barren hill, with his hidden loss and defeat burdening his spirit. The triumph would still be Conrath's, through his sister. But if now, at this point in the contest, with the cause of the Led Horse safe in the hands of the law, he might step out and escape the odium of success!

She stood by the blazed pine, pressing her ungloved hands hard against its corrugated trunk, and looking at him with an imploring suspense in her eyes. It was more than youth and passion could bear. "Cecil," he said, trying to steady his low accents as he spoke her name for the first time, "there is only one reason why I should do this. I have no real

She stood by the blazed pine.

enemies except those who keep me from you. If you will ask me to go for your sake, I will go tonight. Do you ask me to go in that way?" "Oh, I ask it—I ask it! What does it matter how I ask it? What does anything matter?" "But it matters all the world to me! I am not doing this for fear of any man's hatred, but for love of you. I have no business to go—my place is Here until everything is settled. But if a scruple is to cost me my life's happiness —it is too much to pay. Shall I go for you, my love?" "Do I ask you too much? Is it a sacrifice of your honor?"

Her eyes still pleaded,, although she forced herself to give him a chance for retreat. "Don't ask me now. I don't know what honor is. I only know what love is. I will go for you."

He took her hands, with the print of the rugged pine bark on their tender palms, and held them np to his face and laid them about his neck. They clung there a moment. Her heavy hat fell ftack, and her fair, unsheltered head drooped against the rough folds of his coat. "If I should go, IIQW will, it be when we meet again? I shall not be on tho other side, then?" "No," she murmured. "Yon will come to me I am on?"

Yes.

"Yes, unless"— "No, nothing but your promise!" Her arms slipped down. "But a great deal may happen before We meet again"— "Yes, but when or where or how we meet, you are mine, dearest, remember "Have I promised that?" "That, or nothing. Don't play with me, Cecil. Either ycu mean it or you do not. I am in dead earnest. There is uo reason for my going, except that you ask me—the girl I love!" "You must, go,'' she said, pushing him from her. You are going tonight!'' "Tonight! But why tonight?" "Please, please go! I want you to go tonight. I shall not dare to be happy until you arc gone.'' "I might go," he-said, doubtfully, "if there is time. "There is plenty of time—you said you would go tonight. When the train goes out will you bo on it, George?"

She let him kiss her hands and draw from her linger a little ring—a slight, schoolgirl token sho scarcely knew what ho was doing. "I want something to make it seem true. You havo always been such a hopeless dream. Is it trt5j?" he whispered, passionately. "Am I sure of you, darling?"

Not so sure but that, in a moment, she had slipped out of his arms and was running away in tho gathering dusk, that made her figure almost one with tho dun hillside. He had nothing but her ring clasped in his hand. He turned away, trembling and half stupefied. His foot struck one of the low, gray monument stones, and he staggered forward, saving himself, with a heavy jar, against a tree trunk. Recovering from the shock, he missed the ring. He searched for it long, stooping and groping about 011 the rough ground, sifted over with trodden pine needles. At last, when twilight settled darkly in the hollow of tho hills, he gave up his quest and took the homeward path, a pang of bereavement chilling his newborn bliss.

He went to his office, wrote two or three letters and telegrams, and from the drawers and pigeonholes of his desk he collected a number of papers and notebooks, which he placed in a heap on the lid. IIo then went deliberately around tho room, picking up various articles, in preparation for his packing. With all these in one arm he was about to put out the lamp, when he saw a sealed telegram lying on the floor behind his desk. It might have been blown off when he opened the door. It was with a strange reluctance ho put down his burden and opened tho telegram. The spirit of tho change was upon him. He was impatient to be gone. At he would see his lawyers and leave with them certain directions and papers for the forthcoming trial, write his farewells to his few friends in the camp from there and start eastward at once. His formal resignation lay on the desk, directed to his president.

The telegram was from Wilkinson. It read: "Thrown out of court by technicality. Look out for jumpers."

He read the message over two or three times, then folded it and placed it in a notebook which he took from the breast of his coat. Ho did not take up his armful of properties again, but sat down by the desk, looking fixedly at tho sealed letters before him. If temptation had been strong with him in the gulch it was stronger now that ho had yielded the first step, and if his happiness had seemed at stake before there were possibilities in this new situation which made his heart stand still. "No, by heaven!" he exclaimed, pushing back his chair. "I've gone far enough. Let them get some one else to do police duty for them!"

Nevertheless he took up his letter to the president and tossed it into the fire. The other letters and telegrams followed. This was no time for resignations. He would see West at once.

On inquiry, West was not to be seen. He had gone down to the camp. Hilgard went to his room, pulled open his bureau drawers, and began shoving various articles hastily into a traveling bag. He sat on the side of his bed, with the bag between his knees. When it was packed he still sat motionless in the same position, rigid with the silent struggle that possessed him.

A knock came at tho door of the outer room. It was unlighted, except by the broad glow of the fire. Hilgard opened to West, just returned from the camp. "Come in, West I want to see you." "I want to see ycu, sir."

While Hilgard hunted for Wilkinson's telegram in his pocketbook West produced a scrap of gray hardware paper, and held it out to his chief. "Just look at that, sir. I picked it up tonight on the counter at Bolton & Trivet's."

Hilgard stooped, and held the paper to the firelight, while West, turning round, with his lean, chilled brown hands behind him, spread their palms to the warmth. paper bore a memorandum made With a broad, soft pencil: 800 Car. 50

Win.

rwas

a

SHOSHONE.

Hilgard produced his telegram and handed it with the paper to West. "There you are," he said. "Yes, sir. There's the whole infernal business,'' West replied, as he studied the telegram. "It shows what they think of us," he added, with a grim smile. They dassent try it on with less than fifty Winchesters." "You can't make anything else out of it, West?" "There ain't anything else to make. It's an old gAme! I've more'n half ex-

icted it. I looked round a little, while down to the camp," he continued, in his slow, quiet drawl, "and got track o' some boys that I can depend on. Told 'em they'd bettor come along np soon's they could. They'll come all fixed. If you don't like it, sir, it won't make a bit o' difference to them. They can keep

-it's an ngnt—ifs tne only way." Hilgard stepped back and closed the

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extended boot, which he grated back and forth on the bricks of tho hearth. Ho did not lift, his eyes as Hilgard came toward him again, but remarked to the toe of his boot: "Wish you'd git out of the camp. Tonight ain't any too soon. You can trust the old Horse to me, sir! I'll hold her in spite of hell!'' He looked up now, with a

gleam lighting his blue

eyes. "D—n it, you've got friends in the east!" "I have one friend here, it seems," said Hilgard.

The two men looked into each other's faces silently. "We'll hold her together, WestI Come, there's no time to talk!"

At 12 o'clock that night West and Hilgard were hurrying over the frozen ground toward tho shafthouse. The old moon had risen with a circle round imperfect disk. Long white clouds were banked in the southern sky, and there was a chill foreboding of snow in the ai% "Sho hasn't shut down," West remarked, looking across the gulch toward tho Shoshone. "Very likely sho won't it's a good blind for us, and sho lias men enough. They must have noticed that we are all quiet over here." "I took care of that, sir. I told Tom Ryan to give out, kind o' promise'us, down to the boardin house, that we're in a kind of a scrape over here—pump broke down. He's always jawin buck and forth with 'em. "West, I wish you hadn't done that," Hilgard said sharply.

West replied, with some heat: "Good Lord! They're five to one— ain't that enough? If they want to try it on, let 'em try it tonight!"

There was an ominous stillness in the Led Horse shafthouse. The low moon looked in tiirough the bare, dusty windows, where a group of men with rifles slanted between their knees sat around an old cast iron stove. The engine was silent. Tho only sounds in tho dim place were the steady boring of an auger in tho hands of some person unseen and the fire, leaping and roaring in the stove, which had flushed a sullen red, and emitted sharp lines of light through its cracks. The auger stopped boring as Hilgard and West entered. There was a shoving of gunstocks and of heavy boots, on the gritty floor, but no one spoke.

Hilgard looked about him at the hasty preparations for defense. The iron plates of the platforms had been taken up and turned on edgo against the thin board walls. Loaded ore cars, taken from the tracks, barricaded tho weakest points. The auger had been boring loopholes in tho sides of the shafthouse, above the line of protection. "We've got you pretty well fixed up here, boys, if they should make a rush on top." "They'll be fools to try it," West remarked aside. "You can't shove a lot of ten dollar fighters against an armed shafthouse!" "West, send those six men down the ladders. We'll take the bucket," the superintendent ordered. "I reckoned I could hold the drift alone, with a Winchester," West ventured, in his most indifferent voice. "A Winchester's mighty comprehensive!"

Hilgard's eye was on him, but he carefully avoided it. There was an imperceptible stir of appreciation among the men around the stove. "Two Winchesters will be more comprehensive than one. The fight will be there!" "I wish you wouldn't go down, sir," said West, almost shyly. "That's enough about that, West." Hilgard turned to the men. "Murtagh, take care of the boys up here. Lower us away!"

At the word Hilgard and West each grasped tho rope and stopped, with a quick, concerted movement, to the edge of the bucket standing so, face to face, firmly balanced, with rifle in one hand and the shuddering rope in the other, the two men dropped out of sight into the black hole. The rope swung in wider circles it slapped two or three times against the sides of the shaft the olick of the brake sounded,