Indianapolis Times, Volume 35, Number 277, Indianapolis, Marion County, 30 March 1923 — Page 8

8

Alice of Old Vincennes By Maurice Thompson COPYRIGHT, 180 8, BY ALICE LEE THOMPSON

BEGIN HERE ALICE, foster daughter of GASPAKD ROCbSIION, was loved by LIEUT. FITZHUGH BEVERLEY. American Army officer, who with CAPTAIN HELM surrendered Vincennes to ’he EngiUh general. GOVERNOR HAMILTON, during the Revolutionary War. , , Beverley escaped, but was captured b> Indians whom Hamilton had sent tn pursuit. SIMON KENTON and ONCLS JAZON. Beverley's companions, got away in the night It was agreed thai Beverley should be made to run the runtiet. In the meantime Roussillon, also a fugitive from Vincennes, stole home to see his family when Hamilton s patrolmer rushed in. Roussillon escaped and Alice wounded one assailant before LIEUT. FARNSWORTH arrived. Because of his infatuation for Alice it was with reluctance that Farnsworth surrendered her to Hamilton. jT HAVE thought of him —it was I like him—but ho la, aa you 1 aay, very old to be so tremendously strong and active. Why, I tell you that men went from his hands against the walls and floor as If shot out of a mortar. It was the strangest and most astounding thing I over heard of.” A little later Barlow seized a favorable opportunity and withdrew. The conversation was not to his liking. Hamilton sent for Father Beret and had a long talk with him, but the old man looked so childishly Inoffensive in spirit and so collapsed physically that it seemed worse than foolishness to accuse him of the exploit over which the entire garrison was wondering. Farnsworth sat by during the interview. He looked the good priest curiously and critically over from head to foot, remembering, but not mentioning, the most unclerical punch tn the side received from. that, energetic right arm now lying so flabbily across the old man’s lap. When the talk ended and Father Beret humbly took his leave, Hamilton turned to Farnsworth and said: “What do you think of this affair? I have cross-questioned all the-men who took part In It, and every one of thorn says simply priest or devil. I think old Beret Is both; but plainly he couldn’t hurt a chicken, you can see that at a glance.” Farnsworth smiled, rubbing his side reminiscently: but he shook his head. "I’m sure It’s puzzling. Indeed.” Hamilton sat in thoughtful silence for a while, then abruptly changed the subject. "I think. Captain, that you had hotter send out Lieutenant Barlow and some of the best woodsmen to kill some game. We need fresh vension. And, by George! I’m not going to depend upon these F*reneh tr dtors any longer. I have set my foot down: they’ve got to do better or take the oonsequenoee." He paused for a breath, then added- “That girl 1 s done too much to escape severest punishment. The garrison will be demoralised if thiß thing goes on without an example of authority rigidly enforced. I am resolved that there shall be a startling and effective public display of my power to punish. Bhe shot you: you seem to be glad of It, but It was a grave offense. She has stabbed Barlow: that Is another serious crime; but worst of all she aided a spy and resisted arrest. She must be punished.” Farnsworth knew Hamilton’s nature, and he now saw that Alice was In dreadful danger of dea r h or something even worse. Whenever his chief talked of discipline and the need of maintaining his authority, there was little hope of softening his decisions. Moreover, the provocation to apply extreme measures really seemed sufficient, regarded from a mill fanpoint of view, and Captain Fares worth was himself, under ordinary circumstances, a disciplinarian of the strictest class. The fascination, however, by which Alice held him overbore every other Influence, and hia devotion to hm loosened every other tie and obligation to a most dangerous extent. No sooner had he left headquarters and given Barlow his Instructions touching the hunting expedition than his mind began to wander amid visions and schemes by no means consistent with Ills military obligations. In order to reflect undisturbed he’went fort hlnto the dreary, lane-like streets of Vincennes and walked aimlessly here and there until he met Father Beret FVu-nsworth saluted the old man. and was passing him by. when seeing a sword in his hand, half hidden In the folds of his worn and faded cassock, he turned and addressed him. "Why are you armed this morning. Father?” he demanded very’ pleasantly. "Who Is to suffer now 7' “I am not on the war-path, my son," replied the priest “It Is but a

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rapier that I am going to clean of rust spots that are gathering on Its blade.!’ ’’ls It your, Father? Let me see It.” He held out his hand. “No, not mine.” Father Beret seemed not to notice Farnsworth’s desire to handle the weapon, and the young man, instead of repeating his words, reached farther, neatly grasping the scabbard. “I cannot let you take It, my son," said Father Beret. "You have Its mate, that should satisfy you.” “No, Colonel Hamilton took It,” Farnsworth quickly replied. "If I could I would gladly return It to Its owner. lam not a thief, Father, and I am ashamed of—of —what I did when I was drunk.” The priest looked sharply Into Fare? worth's eyes and read there some thing that reassured him. His lone experience had rendered him adept at taking a man’s value at a glance. He slightly lifted his face and said: “Ah, but the poor little girl! why do you persecute her? She really does not deserve it. She Is a noble child. Give her back to her home and her people. Do not soil and spoil her ■=weet life.” It was the sing-song voice used by Father Beret in his sermons and pray sr3; but something went with It in deseribably touching. Farnsworth felt a lump rise In his throat and his eye.were ready to show tears “Father.” he said, with difficulty making his words distinct, “I would not harm Miss Roussillon to save my own life, and I would do anything— ’’ he paused slightly, then added with passionate force: ”1 would do anything. no matter what, to save her from the terrible thing that now threatens her.” Father Beret's countenance changed curiously as he gazed at the young man and said: “If you really mean what you say, you con easily save her, my son.” “Father, by all that Is holy, I mean just what I say.” "Swear not at all. my sou. but give me your hand.” The two men stood with a tight grip between them and exchanged a long, steady, searching gaze. A drizzling rain had begun to fail again, with a raw wind creeping from the west . "Come with me to my house, my son.” Father Ber*t presently added: . lid together they went. th“ prie-t covering Alice's sword from the rain with the folds of his cassock CHAPTER XV LONG-HAIR stood not upon ceremony in conveying to Beverley the Information that he was to rur ihc- gantlet, v.-hlch otherwise stat’-l meant that the Ilans would form themselves in two parallel lines facing each other about six feet apart, and that the prisoner would b expected to run down the length of the space between, thus - Fording the warriors an opportunity, trroatly coveted and relished by their fiendish natures, to beat him cruel'y during his flight. Tills sort of thing was to the Indians, indeed, an exquisite amusement, as fascinating to them as the theater Is to more enlightened people. No sooner was It. agreed upon the entertainment should again be undertaken than all the younger men began to scurry around getting everything ready for 1L Their frees glowed with a droll cruelty trange to see, and they further expressed their lively expectations by I layful yet curiously .solemn antics. The preparations were simple and '.ulckly made. Each man armed himself with a stick three feet long and i-bout three-quarters of an inch in diameter. Rough weapons they were, cut from boughs of scrub-oak, knotty and tough as horn. Long-Hair unbound Beverley and stripped his c’othes from his body down to the waist. Then the lines formed, the Indians In each row standing about as far apart aa the width of tho space in which the prisoner was to run. This arrangement gave them free use jt their sticks and plenty of room for full swing of their lithe bodies. In removing Beverley's clothes Long-Hair found Alice's locket hang ing over the young man's heart He tore It rudely off and grunted, glaring viciously, first at It, then at Beverley. He seemed to be mightily wrough upon. “"White man damn thief,” he growled deep In his throat; "stole from little girl!” He put the locket tn his pouch and resumed his stupidly indifferent e* pression.

When everything was ready for the delightful entertainment to Long-Hair waved his tomahawk three times over Beverley's head, and pointing down between the waiting lines said: "Ugh, run!” But Beverley did not budge. He was standing erect, with bis arms, deeply creased where the thongs had sunk, folded across his breast. A rush of thoughts and feelings had taken tumultuous possession of him and ho could not rnovo or decide what to do. A mad desire to escape arose in his heart the moment that he saw Long-Hair take the locket. It was as if Alice had cried to him and bidden him make a dash for liberty. “Ugh, run!” The order was accompanied with a push of such violence from LongHair’s left elbow that Beverley plunged and fell, for his limbs, after their long and ‘painful confihement in the raw-hide bonds, were stiff and almost use'ess. Lond-Halr is no gentle voice bade him get up. The shock of falling seemed to awaken his dormant forces; a sudden resolve leaped Into his brain. He saw that the Indians had put aside their bows and guns, most of which were leaning against the boles of trees here and yonder. What If he could knock Long-Hair down and run away? This might possibly be easy, considering the Indian’s broken arm. His hear jumped at the possibility. But the shrewd savage was alert and saw the thought como Into his face. "You try git ’way, kill dead!” ho snarled, lifting his tomahawk ready for a stoke. "Brains out, damn!” Beverley glanced down the waiting and eager lines. Swiftly* \he specu lated. wondering what wodid be his chance for escape were lie oft break through. But he did not take • his own condition into account. \ "Ugh, run!” \ Again the elbow of Long-HaiKs hurt "rm pushed him toward the eA

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pedant rows of Indians, who flourished their clubs and uttered impatient grunts. This time ha did not fall; but in trying to run he limped stiffly at first, his legs but slowly and imperfectly regaining their strength and suppleness from the action. Just before reaching the lines, however, lie stopped short. ' Long-Hair, who was close behind him, took hold of his shoulder and led him back to the starting place. The big Indian’s arm

OUT OUII WAY —By WILLIAMS

THE 01 J) HOME TOWN— By STANLEY

niust have given him pain when he thus used it, but he did not wince. "Pool—kill dead!” he repeated two or three times, holding his tomahawk one high with threatening motions and frequent repetitions of his one echo from the profanity of civiliza tion. He was beginning to draw liis mouth down at the corners, and his eyes were narrowed to mere slits. Beverley understood now that he could no longer put off the trial. He must choose between certain death

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

and the torture of the gantlet, as frontiersmen named this savage ordeal. An old man might have preferred the stroke of the hatchet to such an infliction as the clubs must afford, considering that, even after ill the agony, his captivity and suffering would be only a little nearer its end. Youth, however, has faith in the turn of fortune’s wheel, and faith in itself, no matter how dark the prospect. Hope blows her. horn just over the horizon, and the strain

A Serious Problem

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“Song of Love”

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bids the young heart take courage and beat strong. Moreover, men were men, who led the van in those days on the outmost lines of our march to the summit of the world. Beverley was not more a hero than any other young, brave, unconquerable patriot of the frontier army. His situation simply tried him a trifle harder than was common. But it must be remembered that he had Love with him, and where Love is there can be no cowardice, no surrender. 4

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS—By BLOSSER

OUR BOARDING HOUSE—By AHERN

Long-Hair once again pushed hiift and said: "Ugh, run!” Beverley made a direct dash for the narrow lane between the braced and watchful lines. Every warriot lifted his club; every copper face gleamed stolidly, a mask behind which burned a strangely atrocious spirit. The two savages standing at the end nearest Beverley struck at him the Instant he reached them, but they

FRIDAY, MARCH 30, jl

—By ALLMJ

—By AL POSEN

were taken quite by surprise when he checked himself between them and, leaping this way and that, swung out two powerful blows, left and right, stretching one of them fiat and sending the other reeling and staggering half a dozen paces backward with the blood streaming from his nose. This done, Beverley turned to run away, but his breath w r as already short and his strength rapidly going. (To Be Continued.)