People's Pilot, Volume 3, Number 7, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 August 1893 — BLOOD WILL TELL. [ARTICLE]

BLOOD WILL TELL.

A Btmuj« Rat Tala from the Mldwlf Plaisance. Midnight on the Plaisance. The long I street lay wrapped in silence and ' shadow, deep and impenetrable. Light l breezes from the great, heaving lake beyond stirred with a gentle touch the thatched roofs tn the Dahomey village. Away to the right lay the White City, glistening in the pale rays of the electric light Above, the quiet stars kept silent watch over the slumbers of the nations. With slow and measured step the weary Columbian guard paced his lonely beat before the huts of the Africans, counting the weary hours till dawn would bring relief and rest Anon, he glanced about him at the village, the huts, strange and incongruous to western eyes, from which came no sound save the heavy and regular breathing of the sleeping Dahomeyans. All was silent. No night lamps glimmered in the tiny houses where Morpheus held sway. But hark!

What sound was that which broke upon his listening ear, faint and far off? And see, in yonder distant hut, half concealed by the rough bark door, a tiny flickering light! With sudden start the wary guard made silent progress to the spot Half-afraid, he cautiously ventured on, his mind racked with doubts and fears for his own safety. What could it mean, this strange light at such an unholy hour? And now he heard low voices in earnest converse and he paused in trepidation. A thousand thoughts flashed through his mind in one brief moment A plot, perchance, for murder and plunder in its wake, was hatching in the minds and hearts of the treacherous Africans in yonder hut He knew not what dark schemes of rapine might not be going forward, and he listened with bated breath while he stepped into the friendly shadow of a hut A single crackling twig might betray him to certain death, and he thought of his wife and children with aching heart Then, with strained ears, the night wind brought again that sound half-subdued which first arrested his attention. A light rattle os if arrows or deadlier weapons were being prepared for carnage. Then the sense of duty came floating back to him. bringing renewed courage to his sinking heart. He was on guard and on him it devolved to surprise the conspirators, if such they were, ere it was too late.

i Cautiously he moved forward toward the hut whence the low voices and that strange, mysterious rattle, awful in its portent, still came at intervals. And now he is just without the half-opened door, kneeling on the ground and eagerly straining every nerve to catch a word from within. Suddenly the sound came once again upon the still night air and a low, hoarse voice whisi pered with half-suppressed excitement: “Seven done, come a natural, dat time, nigger. Fade you again for five. I Gimme dem bones and come, little Joe, ! for a point." With starting eyes the guard still , listened while the answering voice camo j back: “Can’t do it, son. Two bits you j don’t come. Five on the high side. Ha! ■ here’s my seven.” ■ With a look of pained surprise ths disappointed guard silently retraced his steps from the crap game, only stop> ping to mutter: “Blood will tell.’’—Chicago News.