Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 21, Number 65, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 May 1900 — The Swamp Secret [ARTICLE]

The Swamp Secret

'Copyright. 18!M, by Robert Bonner's Sons. CHAPTER XVlll.—(Continued.) Mr. Wayne's singing school would close on Thursday evening. On Friday the camp meeting would begin. The singing teacher was urged to stay And “help with the surgin' " on Sunday, and he very kindly consented to do sb. Mrs. Boone strongly urged Nannie to attend singing school on the last two nights of its session, and learn the hymns that were being practiced for use on rhe following Sabbath. But Nannie was stubborn, and absolutely refused to.go. “I couldn’t take an interest in it on Dick's account." she said. "And. then I don’t want to see Mr. Wayne. 1 wish I might never set eyes on him again. He’s insulted me. and I haven’t spoken to him since, and 1 don’t intend to. Iles a fine person to lead the singing at a camp meeting, isn’t he?"--——-Nannie’s eves blazed indignanll y. “Wall, es he hain’t used ye flgin. t" • can’t say's I blame ye for not hat in -nothin' tu du with him." said her mother. “I du hope. Nancy"—Mrs. Boone ' always called her Nancy when she wished to be very Impressive—"l du hope n pray, Nancy, that you'll turn to the Lord an' experience his grace an’ pard nin love in this camp meetin'. An' I hope n. ptay all the young folks will. 1 kind o feel’s es they would, an' that we re goin tu hev a blessid good season.’ ‘ But Nannie's thoughts were more about the bread she was getting ready to carry to Dick that night than they were about the Bread of Life, and it is doubtful if she heard very much of what her mother ■■was saying. CHAPTER XIX. It seemed to be’ the general opinion,that -since Dick's warning of the fate in store for him and all the other horse thieves, if caught, horse stealing was at an end .in Brownsville. Consequently, a feeling of comparative -security took possession ofe the settlers. Most of them believed that Dick had belonged to a gang, if he had not been the leader of it. ami that his narrow es- • cape from the fate meted out to horse 'thieves had frightened him out of tjie country. That it was well with him yet, Nannie knew, for the supply of daily bread which -she deposited in the hollow tree disappeared as regularly as it was placed there. The camp meeting opened with a great promise of success. The presiding elder said he felt "as es there was goin’ to be a reg'lar ol'-fasfhi'ned pour-down o' the sperrit, an* a stirrin' up o' dry bones," whereupon all the brothers and sisters in Israel shouted a vigorous "Amen" in concert. There was a goodly attendance from “down below.” Never before hrfd so .many strapge faces been seen in Brownsville. It began, as I have said, on Friday. Tfie first day got it only fairly under headway. On the second day the excitement, without which no camp meeting was considered a success in those days, began. * Before night it had taken possession of most of those who were, or had been, members of one church or another. What the nature of the excitement was I shall not undertake to say. It was something which few could, or did, resist, and the anxious seat was crowded with penitents. At night, after the great tires were lighted, the scene was one a Rembrandt would have delighted in, with its vivid 'Contrasts of light and shade. The ruddy .flames leaped up and lit the forest lurid-

ly for rods away, amOtig ’he great tree trunks. Overhead the leaves shone like silver in the strong light thrown upon ihem from below. The rapt, eager faces ■of men and women stood out with startling distinctness against a background of shadow. They were all turned toward the stand, where two ministers exhorted and prayed, alternately, with great fervor and a goodly exhibition of lung power. Devout brothers and sisters said “Amen, - ’ regardless of appropriate time ■or place.' Soul-stirring old Methodist hymns were sung hymns which have rung down the years like bugle calls, and whose echoes yet linger on our frontiers as the star of the empire moves westward. w Rhoda Stevens sat near Mr. Wayne. I have made mention of the sickness j of her brother. Samanthy’s hemlock sweat had failed to produce the desjred ■effect. As Rhoda was entirely unused to caring for sick persons, an aunt had been ■sent for from "down below." to take charge of the sick Is.y. She had concluded, after hearing of the camp meet-, ing, to remain in Brownsville until it was over, ami. in consequence of her presence, in the Stevens household, the visits of the singing teacher, had been infrequent of late, for he did not care to go there very much while propriety, in the shape of a maiden aunt, was eon-, stantly regarding him with a suspicious eye. It was perhaps a most fortunate thing for Rhoda that her aunt was needed there. Ignorant of th" ways of the world, 4ind with confidence in the honesty of Wayne’s intentions, the intliienee he had established over her might very likely have been exerted for bad. Such no doqbt would .ha ve been the eafte had circumstances been other than they were, Rhoda been left unprotected. She. in'’her innocence, could not understand Ifow it was possible for a man to be bad while he appeared so entirely the opposite, and she wondered why he so abruptly ceased his visits after her aunt came. Had she known the truth, she ■would have known that he felt afraid of her nttnt'a sharp eyes. They were eyes that could see beyond such a mask as ■that which he wore. On that Saturday evening, nt camp ’meeting, he looked around from the bench -on which he was sitting and met Rhoda's •eye*. He smiled, and presently came and •at down beside her. “Are you here alone?" he asked. “No, Aunt Sarah came with me," answered Rhoda. “She’s sitting over there with Mrs. Porter.” ' “I hope she’ll stay there, so that 1 can have a chance to talk with you, without sealing that she's listening to every word,” said Wayne. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had such a chance.”

"I haven't seen much of you since Toni was sick," said Rhoda. "I hope you weren’t afraid of catching the fever?” "No, but I was afraid of catching something from that aunt of yours,” he answered "I don’t think she likes me very much. At least it struck me that way the first time I canie to see you after she took up her hibatation in your family. And, then, too, I’ve been very busy.” Rhoda looked at him a little sharply when he said that, for she knew better. > "You look as if you did not believe me,” he said. "Do I?' Well, perhaps I don’t.” Rhoda was inclined to resent his poor excuse, for it indicated that he thought any explanation would satisfy her. And. titan. she had begun to have some doubts about him. Samanthy had exerted an influence against him. and when Samanthy "didn-’t like-a- body, she didn't, an’ that was all there was, to it,” according to her own statement, and s'ne had left no stone unturned in her effort to make a point against Wffyne. She had been 'influenced by two motives: -She did not like Wayne, and she did like Rhoda. "Yes. yoti look somewhat incredulous," he said. "Is'it necessary for me to tell you all I have been doing to prove to you that I have beenbpsy?” “Oh, you needn’t put yourself to that trouble,” said Rhoda, with a simulation of indifference. She wasn’t going to let him flatter himself that she cared very much if he did not come to see her. Just then some one called him away for a moment. It was Bill Green. When their consultation was ended, they stood and chatted together for a moment. Then Rhoda heard Bill say: “Hain’t b’en havin' a tiff with Rhody hev ye? Seern’s es she looked kind o riled up about suthin’ or uther.” "I think she’’doesn’t like it very well because I haven't been to see her lately,” answered Wayne, with a laugh that brought the angry color to Rhoda's face. "I did go there quite,often, as perhaps you know; but I saw the girl was inclined to take everything in dead earnest, and I've rather fought shy of her since. A nice sort of a girl to help one pass away time when it hangs heavy. I wonder you don't lay siege to her heart, Green. She’d make you a charming wife.” Wayne had no idea that Rhoda could hear what he was saying. But she heard every word of it, and her.ny.es fairly blazed with an’ger under cover of her sunbonnet. "Oh, you miserable wretch''.-” she said under her breath. “I despise you! 1 hate you! I wish I could make you feel how much contempt I have for you! To talk like that about me to such a thing as Bill Green! Oh, you puppy!”. Mere printed words fail to express the intensity of wrath that was concentrated in Rhoda’s tone. Girls with a nature like hers can hate quije as thoroughly as they can do anything else. In much less time than if has taken io tell it her liking for Wayne had changed to hatred and repugnance. She saw now that what Dick had told her was true. There could be no mistake, no doubt, for she had the truth from Wayne’s own lips. He had made her his dupe. He had made a plaything, a fool, of her. "If I ever get a chance to pay you back, I’ll do it!” she said, with a flashing glance of scorn at him. And she meant I it.

The chance was nearer at hand than ; she dreamed of. When Wayne eamtt-back to the seat he had vacated, from his interview with Bill Green, she turned her back upon him squarely, and ignored every attempt of his at conversation with lofty but silent much to his vexation, and consequently to her delight. i Some new arrivals necessitated a change of seat. This brought Rhoda next to Samanthy and Nannie. “You don't like Mr. Wayne as well as you used to, do you?" she whispered to Nannie. Rhoda was never given to beating about the. bush."1 don’t like him very well,” answered Nannie, cautiously. Of late she and Rhoda had not beert I very intiniijfe—rather cool to each other, in fact—-and she was at a loss to under- [ stand what Rhoda's tactics were; there- | fore she thought it best to be rather reserved in her communications until her object in starting such a conversation became clear. "1 just hate him!" said Rhoda. "1 never saw any one who looked meaner to me than he does." "I'm glad of it,” said Nannie, suddenly waxing cordial. "I don’t believe you hate him any worse than I do!” Thus it was that hatred—a feeling that should not have been tolerated at camp meeting—made better friends of these two girls than they had been for some time before. CHAPTER NX. Mr. Boone had slept in the barn every’ night since Deacon Snyder’s horses were stolen. He was afraid the horse thieves would be after Dolly and Nell. He attended, the day services of the bamp meeting on Friday and Saturday, and Saturday evening found him all on tire with religious enthusiasm. But he hesitated somewhat about attending the evening service. He wanted to go, but he felt that some one ought to remain at home. There was no telling what might happen if the place were left alone. But ho finally cofncluded to go. Samanthy went over to Mr. Boone’s, to accompany Nannie to .the grove. At first Nannie had declared that she wasn’t going to attend the camp meeting. It hardly seemed right for her to be enjoying herself, or, at least trying to do so, while poor Dick was a fugitive and a wanderer on the face of the earth. "Good Ixtrd!” argued Samanthy, with good, hard common, sense. "Your stayin’ tu hum, mopin’ an’ cryfn’, hain’t a-goin’ tu make it any better fer him, is it? He’d ruther y’d git along with yer trouble as easy’s possible. I know him well enough fer that. Git yer bunnit an’ le’s be goin’.” They went by the way of the hollow tree, and Nannie deposited there her daily loaf, adding a great wedge of her

mother’.s camp meeting cake and a halfdozen doughnuts of her own manufacture. “They’ll taste good to him, 1 hope, poor fellow,” she said penitently. “Course they will,” said Samanthy. “ ‘Poor feller,’ indeed! Sh’d think he'd git the r.’umatiz sleepin’ out these awful damp nights. . I’ve felt ’em ail day jest from bein’ out to meetin’ las’ night. 1 don't s’pose I’d orter be out to-night. But, land! I don’t see how I c’d stay tu hum with ev’rybody else goin’; so I’ve took my chance o’ gittin’ laid up. 1 got out the. arnicky bottle afore I started, so’s to hev handy when I git hum; an’ niebbe es I rub it in well; I’ll feel aH right to-raorrer.” “Lots of nights I efin’t sleep, just for thinking of poor Dick," said Nannie, tears coming into her eyes. Iler remorseful conscience made her thoughts of Dickvery tender ones just now. The forest resounded with the shouts of newly awakened souls, the singing of devout attendants, who hoped by their songs to cheer on those who were wavering between good Land evil, and the lusty exhortations of the ministers. One could hear the camp meeting fart hey than one could see it. "I s’pose it’s all right." said Samanthy, in a tone that meant that she thought it all wrong. "But fer my part I don't b’leeve in hollerin' an' shoutin’. I'm a reg'lar hard-shell Baptis’; all my folks was; an’ we never took no stock in sanctification an' gittin’ the power an’ the high mount o’ holiness an’ sich, as the Methodis’ folks Jell about. I don’t fellership it myself, an' none of our folks could. Sprinklin', tu! I sh'd feel’s es I wa’n't niore’n half converted es 1 didn’t git right'down intu the water. Ye needn't tell me! It don't stan' .tu reason, that a body can be immersed by throwin' a few drops o’ water on him; an' the Bible says jest as plain as can be that emmercioh’s right, an’ I go by what that says more’n I do by man’s sayin’ so. When I go in fer anything, I b’leeve in bein’ thurrer, an.’ sprinklin'- ain’t thurrer enough to suit me.” They passed on to the edge of the grounds and observed the congregation. Deacon Snyder was" in the middle of a most powerful exhortation to a group of.. young men, who were listening with great interest, apparently, and a look on their faces that gave good grounds for the belief that they might be penitent before the exhortation was over. Ln another part of the grounds old Mrs. Greenjw.as.„singing that quaint old piece of religious’doggerel which most persons who have attended an old-fashioned camp meeting, or have known an old-time revival, must remember: "Oh, the sisters want religion! The brothers want religion! We’s got to have religion—- • Glory to the Lamb!”

The zeal with which she was singing it rendered her wholly oblivious of all things earthly, but it could not prevent her from being a very comical figure as she swayed to aud fro, her hands clasped, her eyes closed, and her old poke bonnet tipped over on her shoulders, and hanging by its strings, making the worldly minded and irreverent think of a small mortar aimed skyward, ready to fire off the good old lady’s head at the moon. Bill Green was among the penitents, kneeling at the anxious seat. The minister had said some things that frightened his cowardly heart, because they told the truth about him, aud he could not, at such a time as this* deny it, and the excitement of the occasion had a contagion in it which natures like'his are •very susceptible and it had fastened upon him, and here he was, among the "seekers,” groaning and writhing as if the devil hated to let go his hold upon him.

So the struggle between good and evil went on to the accompaniment of strange sights and sounds which made the scene *eem fantastic and unreal enough, to the looker-on who took no active part in it, to be a fragment from a dream. “Dear sus a day!” cried Samanthy, in the middle of a hymn, greatly to the surprise of Nannie, who felt sure from the nature and the time of the ejaculation that her companion was about to “get the power.” “O, my day s—“What’s the matter?” asked Nannie. Samanthy answered with a smothered groan, ,for she had enveloped the lower part of her face in a shawl. "Are you getting the power?” asked Nannie. ‘ “Wuss'n that,” answered Samanthy, in a sepulchral tone, from the depths of her shawl. "It's the jumpin’ toothache. Oh, Lord! When it jumps, I can’t keep my mouth shet. Oh! Oh!” "Hadn’t we better go home?” asked Nannie. "It will be likely to keep on aching if we stay out in this damp air.” "Yes, I reckon we’d better,” said Samanthy. "Oh, my goodness!” with a frantic grab at her jaw, as the refractorytooth gave another excruciating twinge of pain. "Sister Samant’y, be you a'-groanin’ under the strivin's o’ the sporrip” asked Deacon Snyder’s wife, seeing Samanthy’s convulsed face, and hearing her groan of anguish. “Es it is a pleadin’ an’ a intercedin' ” “ ’Tain't,” answered Samanthy, concisely and sharply. "It’s the toothache, an' I’m a Baptis’, Mis' Snyder, an’ don’t b’leeve in the power, an’ sprinklin’, ’n’ sich things;” and with this general declaration of non-belief, she broke loose from the detaining clasp of Mrs. Snyder’s hand, and she and Nannie left the grounds. As they passed the minister's stand Wayne was just striking up that old recruiting hymn of the grand old Methodist army: “Am I a soldier of the Cross, A follower of the Lamb?” “Sit'd a ’nough sight sooner think he was a stealer of a hoss,” said Samanthy, with a grim and irreverent humor. Her unexpected and accidental rhyme set her to chuckling, in the midst of which mirthful demonstration her* tooth gave a twinge outdoing all former efforts in that line, and bringing the tears to her eyes. "Sarvcs me right fer sayin’ foolish things on a solium time,” she groaned, and they'passed the sitiger without his seeing them, and set off homeward. CHAPTER XXL They walked home in silence. Samanthy whs too busy with her (efforts to keep the cool night air from her tooth to be willing to attempt a conversation. “Hev to go in the back way,” she mumbled, when they reached the house. “Mr. Porter’s got the key to the frontdoor padlock, an’ 1 took the one b’longin’ to the back one." In this way it happened that they did

not go aioand to the side of the houss fronting the barn; therefore they were not sepn by any one who might have been there at that time. “Now. tell me what I can do for yot;,” . said Nannie as soon as they were in the house. Samanthy had dropped into a chair and was swaying to and fro with her hands at her jaw, groaning dismally; . "Hops—git a bag o’, hops—an’ pour b’ilin’ hot water, on ’em,” she directed, spasmodically. "On top shelf —but'ry.* Dear sus a me! Wish Mr. Porter was here—l’d hev him yank it out with the bullet mol's. Oh, my goodness!” Nannie went into the pantry, and was preparing to climb on an old barrel, in order to get at the top shelf where the herbs for winter use were stored away, when she heard a sound that ,seemed like the creaking of a door on wooden hinges. She stooped down and peered out of the window on the side toward the barn, from which direction the sound had seemed to come. A cry of surprise escaped her. ’ The barn door was open! (To be continued.)