People's Pilot, Volume 5, Number 14, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 September 1895 — MAN WITH A SHADOW. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

MAN WITH A SHADOW.

< cf' <v> E had driven the / Apaches into the ’GA'-.W WJf/ fastnesses of )x( Devil’s Mountains, Tli?\ I —* but there they suctA| t i cessfully eluded us, uj an( i olone l Bradwick was about disBK U couraged, when, one 3L nI Ji night shortly after dark, a sentinel brought in a stran-

ger. He was at least six feet and three inches in height, and he could not have weighed more than one hundred and forty pounds, but still he did not seem to be a man who was suffering from a disease, as his step was steady, though catlike, and his voice natural if restrained at times. This stranger had a wild, haunted stare in his eyes, which combined with a manner of glancing nervously over his shoulders at intervals, made it seem that he was in constant dread of something. When he was presented to the colonel he dropped the butt of his long rifle on the ground and made an awkward salute. “Well, my man,” said Colonel Bradwick, curiously,” what are you doing in this Apache-infected section of the country?” ■ “Wa-al, kunnel,” was the drawled reply, “thar be some things as is wuss’n ’Paches, though you may not believe it. My name’s Saul Tropp.” “What is your business, Saul Tropp?” “It’s mostly keepin’ under kiver when the sun shines an’ layin’ low moonlight nights.” “Well, you seem to be in a bad section of the country for such a business. The sun shines every day, and there is not much cover for a man. There is more moon here than in any other part of the world. What do you want in this camp?” “Reckoned I’d like ter be socibul, es you hev no objections. Out hyar a man don’t find much of anything to be socibul with, an’ when white folks come along he feels as tickled as a dorg with two tails.” “Are you acquainted with these mountains?”. “Are I? Wa-al, I should say I are! I know ’em durned nigh from from one eend to t’other.” “Then you may prove of service to us. We are hot after Red Hand’s butchers, but they know the section so well they have twice given us the blip when they were cornered.”

“Red Hand. I saw that critter once an’ I’ve alius regretted that I didn’f make his close acquaintance. His ha’r would hev been an ornyment wuth havin’.” “Can you and will you assist us id tracking down the red d —ls?” “Wa-al, I’ll try it, but I warn ye, kunnel, I’m not a very ’greeable galoot tel* hev around. I hev spells, an’ w’en I hev spells. I'm wuss’n thunder. Arter I. hev about one o’ them yar spells, you’ll reckon you kin git along without my aid, an’ not hafe try.” For all of this warning, the colonel engaged the man, and then he directed me»to have a good watch set over the fellow, as he might prove crooked. Jeff Shaw, however, Informed me thaf he knew Tropp by reputation, and the man was straight enough, though thefre was not a doubt but he was crazy. “He ’lows he’s alius follerod by a shadder,” explained Shaw, who was a guide and scout. “Notice how he keeps lookin’ over his shoulder uvry now an' ag’in? Wa’al he’s lookin’ for the shadder.” “I observed a wild look in his eyes.” “Thet kem thar sehce four year ago when he killed a man over in Prescott They do say ther man he killed wuz Saul Tropp’s perfect double—looked so much alike one couldn’t ’a’ bin told from t’other. Some folks even went so fur as to say it wuz Saul Tropp as wuz killed, and this man what has bin dodgin’ his shadder ever sence is t’other critter.” Tropp started out well. He had no horse, but we found him tireless and fleet of foot. Still, he was ever glancing over his shoulder with those wild, haunted eyes, and dodging when he found his own shadow hanging close upon him. He loved the darkness of ravines and gorges, and I fancied I understood why he had buried himself in the mountains. I observed he had a peculiar way ot toeing in with his left foot, and the Im-

presston maae oy mat root was one not easily forgotten. Along in the middle of the afternoon Saul had one of his “spells.” Of a sudden he gave a wild yell, whirled about and struck out right and left. It was really as desperate a battle as I had ever witnessed, and I watched it fascinated, until, utterly exhausted, Tropp fell gasping and foaming at the mouth to the ground, where he lay in a semi-unconscious condition. However, in less than thirty minutes he seemed all right once more, and we went onward. “I reckon I’d best go now, kunnel, fer I’m shore you’re good an’ sick o’ me an’ my spells by this yar time. I hain't even so much as found one ’Pache sign fer ye, so I reckon I’ll skip.” But Colonel Bradwick was Interested in the fellow, and he would not hear it. “When I don’t want you any more I’ll tell you so,” was all he said. Near midnight we were aroused by a terrible racket, and I looked from my tent to find Saul Tropp fighting with his shadow in the moonlight. I watched him a moment, battling like a flend with this imaginary something, and then he reeled into the deep shadow of the mountains that rose to our right. I knew when the "spell” was over, for I heard Saul fall heavily to the ground, uttering a dismal groan, and then all was still. In the morning we found him just where he had fell, and his own knife was buried to the hilt In his heart. It is supposed he had stabbed himself in the mad contortions of his struggle, but Jeff Shaw pointed out tracks on the ground—a trail that led to the spot and led away again. It was that of a man who toed in with his left foot, exactly as Tropp had done, and it passed within ten feet of the spot where a sentinel had been posted. That sentinel swore no living thing had passed him in the night. Some said Saul Tropp had sneaked out of the camp and returned in the night; some shook their heads and said nothing. Deep in the darkness of a lonely ravine, amid those desolate mountains, we buried him where no shadow could ever haunt him more, for neither sunshine nor moonlight ever reached the spot to cast a shadow there.

FALL HEAVILY TO THE GROUND