Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 9, Number 32, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 8 February 1879 — Page 6

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

HIS VOYAGE OF LIFE.

Only a baby,

Kissed ana caressed, Gently held to mother'# breist.

Only a child,

Toddling aloue, tirighteulnguow lis happy home.

Only a boy,1

Trudging to school, Governed now by sterucr rale.

Only a youth.

Living In dreams Fall orprouiiaellfe now seems.

Only a man, .* ...

Battling with life, Shared In now by lovlug wife.

Only a father.

Burdened with care, 811 ver threads in dark brown hair.

Only a greybeard,

Toddling again, Growing o!d and full of pain. Only amouud, ,, O'ergTOwn with grass, JJreams unrealized—rest at last.

Harpers' Magazine— February.

MOONSHINERS.

On an Auguateveuiog, Mr. John JNororoas, fisherman and gentleman of leisure, was scrambling along the steop banks of a small tributary of New River, In Western Virginia—lost. The sun was just setting, and he had not the least idea of the road home. He knew the general direction, for the range of the mountains told him that. But a path was the mystery. The situation was unpromising. It was a hazy evening ana the sun, which resembled a red-ho cannon ball suited to a gun of thirteen inch calibre, was just balanced on the tops of a dense fringe of pines night was coming fast, and the fisherman—you could see be was such from the tod upon his shoulder—was tired, hungry, aud in a rather depressed mood.

John Norcross was a young New Yorker, with plenty of means, leisure, and a passion for fishing and bunting. He did not like Brondway or town life in the least. They seemed to bore him. He had been to Europe, and was not much interested in Paris, or Rome either. He came back gladly, and having heard that the New River region in Virginia was a wild and picturesque country, full of game, proceeded thither. At the station of the railway he procured a horse, and struck into the first road he saw, and this brought him to a small house covered with clapboards, with a well sweep in front, in a gash of the mouutaiu. At the door stood an old countryman with long gray hair aud a guileless smile upon his lips.

4'I

have come hero to fish and hunt, frieud," said Mr. Norcross, entering upou business. "Cau you eutertain me —for a month, say?" '"To be sure," Diddy Miller replied, emphasizing the "to be," aud pronouncing it "foo&ee."

And all was soon arranged on an equitable basis. Mr. Norcross returned his horse, and his btggage was sent for. He was the lord and master of a neat, clean chamber, with a snowy bed, some asparagus bushes in the fire place, a gaudy print on the wall, of a young lady with crimson cheeks, whose na*ae, "Jenny," was printed beneath, aud a fine view of the chickens in the yard, and the mountain, through the small window.

In this to him highly agreeable abode Mr. Norcross set up his rest, that is, scattered around him some magazines and books on hunting and fishing, produced his meerschaum, and put together his breech loading carbine and jointed •fishing rod.

Aunty Miller, in huge frilled cap, and resembling an amiable meal-bag with a string around the middle, looked after him in a motherly way, and all was precisely to his liking." He had broiled chicken and wheat aud corn cakes, with coffee and country milk and cream, for breakfast and then Mr. Norcross would sadly forth, cirrying gun and rod both, and quite content with everything around him.

He was twenty-five or twenty-six, and a tall, fine looking young fellow. Ho was anything but tnppish but his hunting coat, full of pockets, and Wr leather gaiters, were from the shop of the best artist in London, and his open face and general appearance were agreeable.

On this dav he had been fishing from morning till night, solacing himself about noonday with cold meat and bread from his sachet. His luck had been indifferent he had wandered on and on until he lost his way, and now as the sun was sinking he was indubitably lost. He could not even find the path along the stream, which had brought him and here was night at hand, with no habitation of any kind in sight.

He was standing on a pile of rock otergrown with a prolusion of Virginia creeper in full pink bloom, when he saw fording the stream beneath him what seemed to be the figure of a girl on horseback. The dusk blurred the figure, for the sun had just disappeared so he leaped down from his rock, went to meet it, and reached the bank just as the horse and rider came out of the water.

He was a venerable animal, with head depressed, a furry hide, and that air of being surprised at nothing which characterizes age in equine*. Across bis back lay a meal-bag, and in front was a

was

brown,

"Still I must get baok to-night If I can, miss," he said. "I am a stranger in this oountrv—I came to huut and fish. I don't like the idea of spending the night in the woods, though I've often done so."

She looked at him, apparently hesitating. There was light enough for him to see her bright eyes In the ifnsk, "That would be very hard," she said, at length. "No, I don't think you ought to sleep in the mountain. But If you choose—"

She stopped the hesitating look came again. Their eyes met, and his Expression seeuaed to aeclde her. "If j'ou cbo.ise," she said, "you can come and spend the night at father's. It is not far."

Norcross was a young man whs took things as they came, and rather liked the unexpected. He was not wedded to his domestic lares at Daddy Miller's, and preferred to range now and then. He said: i• -,**• "Thank you, Miss—Miss—" "My name is Conny Neal," she interposed.

He laughed, and said, in the frank way which made him friends ererywhere: "But Conwy is 'short' for Constance, I suppose. I am entirely too much of a stranger to be familiar, as I should certainly be if I called you Miss Conny." "Constance is my full na-ne, but they call me Conny," she said. "There is no reason why you should not." "Then I will accept your invitation, Miss Conny."

So they went along up a winding path leading into a gorge of the mountaius, talking by the way. The girl informed him that she had been to the mill, some miles distant, for ineal. They had one man-servant, but he* was too old, and she did not mind going, as she knew everybody—all in the same quiet voice, which John Norcross began to find more and more agreeable to him. Tone and expression both bad a fresh charm which he had not found in cities. Her pronunciatien and selection of words were both correct beyond criticism. Beyond this nature asserted herself. Norcross thought: "This girl is a young tree of the mountains, only with the straggling branches lopped off." lhis is father's house, Sir," she said, pointing to a small, weather-boarded farm house on the slope of the mountain. They passed through a gate in a low fence, and crossing a grass plat, stopped at the door in front of a little porch with a bench on each side, and reached by two steps. The house was of one story, with a garret and dormer windows. The narrow passage ran from front to rear, and was furnished with two split-bottomed chairs, and a pair of deer's antlers on the wall, across which lay a fowling-piece. Some tawny deer hounds were lying about, snapping at the fiies, and a majestic sultan in the shape of a turkey cock promenaded grandly in tho midst of his family.

Norcross assisted the girl to alight, and then proceeded to shoulder the meal bag and place it on tho porch. The girl had opened her lips to tell him that this was unnecessary, and in fact an old hobbling negro man was approaching slowly from the rear, but at that moment a man came out of the front door, and Norcross, rising erect after depositing the meal bag on the porch, bowed to him.

Norcross looked curiously at his host. His figure was striking He was a man of about fifty, tall, very erect, powerful, with a high forehead, piercing eyes, and a heavy beard and mustache. He wore a velveteen hunting jacket, whose white seams showed that it had served its owner

for

worn side-saddle, on which was perched a izirl of about twentv, wearing a cheap mg to *ee her near him. This insomnia calico and a ohip hat. Her complexion went on until nearly midnight. Nor-

but fresh colored, and her cross was then aware that some people oves black her hair also, which *he were talking below at the back door of wore in a coil behind her neck. Her I the house, and, curious to know who general appearance was docldedly rus- was stirring so late, he rose and went to tic- but another glauce showed John his window which was open. The Norcross that this first comprehensive moon was shining, and he saw his host impression waa erroneous, or at least did not accurately measure her individuality.

Those familiar with the uneducated young fcmaleof the plainer olass know their qae«* alt* and graces—the sidewise toss of the bead, the negligee bearing, and the stolen glances as they answer you. This one was different. She sat erect in her saddle, the handsome head poised firmly on the shoulders, and looked straight at Mr. John Nor cross out of her calm black eyes. She was tall and rather slender like himself

many along year, and deer­

skin leggins reached nearly tohiskneei. It was the dress of a hunter, and the host seemed to recoguizs the same proclivities in h»s chance guest.

He bowed, invited Norcross in, and the girl explained everything in a few words. "You are welcome, Sir. My name is Neal, at your service. So you are staying at Daddy Miller's?" •For about three weeks. I came to hunt and fish, and have had a splendid time."

Norcross had moved about the world a good deal, and was off hand with new acquaintances, which made him many friends. His laugh and whole manner were frank, and his host, who had been rather grim at first, was plainly thawing. "I live in New York," said Norcross, but I like the country better than the town. I get tired of streets and houses. Daddy Miller's home is better—and yours too."

He looked round him at the white walls with an air of satisfaction. There were some silhouettes in plain oak frames here and there, and on a table in one corner were some beoks—not mauy, and much worn. The floor was bare aud sanded, and a few split bottomed chairs, upright and with rockers, were nearly all the furniture. Everything was perfectly neat aud plain, down to the tallow candles burning in tin candlesticks.

Conny Neal had disappeared as soon as she arrived, and now came in and said that supper was ready. It was excellent, and served in the opposite room by an old negro woman, who ducked her head to the ^uest and then retired Conny presided, and talked easily and after eating like a plowman, Norcross smoked aud talked in the other room then he began to yawn, and his host arose and led the way upstairs to a bedroom, closely resembling his owu at Daddy Miller's, ushered him in and left him.

Norcross was tired, but in spiteof that fact did not go to sleep. He eould not get Conny Neal out ot his mind. As often as be closed his eyes her own dark ones began to glimmer in big mind, and he was wide awake again, half expect-

come ont, in company with another person in the rough dress of a mountaineer. "Who sent word?" Neal said to his companion. "Tony," was the reply. "Do the men know?" "I have been the rounds and seen some, aad I'll see the rest before morning." "Right. When will they be here?" "To-morrow night, Tony says." "Well If we are pushed too close we will fight. The war is over, bat I am

the whole pose of ber figure was grace ready to begin again." and ease—nc^sbe was not a rustle belle,! "So are the boys-so are the boys, capthe fisherman said UWmself.^

ta!!\yell,

He came up and tooK on ms nas »»«.»•, gi her as ber horse walked up the bank. know the "I

have

lost my way. mfes-I am sUv-! They passed beyond hearing into the ins at Daddy MillerV' be said, politely, shadow of some pines shivered in the f&n von direct me*'' light of the moon, which had just risen. "Daddy Miller's? This Is a long way Norcross came back from the window down the river," the girl said, stopping, and went to bed, where he found sleep She had made a motion of her bead in harder than «ver. TV hat didI all.this response to Mr. John Norcross' salute, mean, and who were to come armed, to l.n internally decided was quite do what? He^knit hi*' brow«, p^oundly not too slichfc or too puzzldd. At lust th? wrinkles irew coinrnt il marked.

give tbem the orders they

*?. i^r *•*., 3tv

t*$ :A Ti

VTT^

tramp oouquered his curiosity, and he fell aaleep. About three weeks after this visit Nor ornsa wrote th« following letter to a friend

in

New York:

DEAR TOM What you predicted would happened oue day or other has happened—I am done for. The friend of your bosom is In the toils, or something like It, Her name is Conny Neal, and she la the daughter of a plendid fellow, who has only one drawbaok—he is an exrebel soldier, and an mra~e one, I assure you. As a good Rapublican, believing in the depravity of all who differ with me, this, of course, is sufficient to ruin him in myestimatlon, but, after all, he Is a noble fellow, and, above all, his daughter is a paragon. Imagine a girl brought up In a poor house iu the mountains, who is a lady, technically speaking, to her finger nails. I met her bv the meerest acoident, while out fishing one day, and looked upon ber at first as only a rustic beauty without culture. Never was man more mistaken. She is better read than I am, and a person of t(te utmost refinement, with all the grace of nature and such eyes—such eyes, Tom! "I have given you thus a whole page describing her mind and person, and come to the main point—I am captured. I have not tbe least idea bow it will all end, and have really resolved on nothing. To speak seriously, I don't well see how I can get along without her in future, aud foresee I shall have to tell ber so. But then? Say she accepts me— which I assure you Is by no means certain—not by any means. I shall be a hawn in a cage, and my papa-in-law will be a rebel hunter of the Virginian tnountainsl Decidedly I can't think of it—that is, I think of it all the time. "There is something even worsesome mystery or other at least that I don't like. I am lodging with an old fellow named Daddy Miller, and people are constantly coming and going on some mysterious business. What does it mean? I can't divine, and what Is worse, can't disoover. Silence seals every lip, and I am conscious that eyes are constantly upon me. It is the same at her father's house, where mysterious figures come and go at all hours of the night in the strangest manner. This is odd, and not agreeable. What does it mean, I say? As you are not able probably to answer that question, I will endeavor to

Bend

Ttiis was imprudent in Conny, perhaps, but then it was natural, and she followed nature. Norcross was the first person she had ever met who could talk to her about books and the great world. Her father was by no meaus an uneducated person, but he seldom read anything and "thus it happened that Norcross brought with him the first breath of the outer world, and they talked of a thousand things. His visits had beeu constant he bad become the friend of the family and when Conny's interest and curiosity were satisfied, her heart began to mix itself with the affair. Norcross was a handsome young fellow, full of ardor and the zest of life. She was a woman, and read his fondness in every glance of the black eyes. Then what alwavsor nearly always follows followed. "The vita nnova began for Conny Neal, and Norcross' letter showed that it had begun for him also.

September had come, and the mountains were slowly assuming the magical colors of autumn. In August the slopes had been clothed in deep green, over which the shadows of floating cloads moved slowly, or swept on at a gallop before the fresh winds. Now the green had disappeared. The maple and dogwood were as rod as blood, aud the hickories were like molten gold. The*e shaded off into orange and russet as the days advanced and over this wonderful spectacle, over mountain and valley and river, drooped a dreamy haze, rounding every outline, and making the landscaye a fairy land to the delighted Norcross. He used to go off to the river sometimes with Conny N.eal, and sit at her side on some granite shoulder jutting out from the side of the mouutains, and they would talk for hours—about what? About everything or nothing. It was the same. They were near each other, which was the great thing, look ing at each other, and listening to each other's VOICPS.

On one subject they never touched— the mysterious coming and going at Daddy Miller's and Neat's. This arose from delicacy in Norcross. He felt that he had surprised his hpst's secret—for secret there evidently was—on that first night at his house, and was a little ashamed of having listened at his window. Eavesdropping and covert action of everv description were the young man's abomination, so be said nothing, defending himself in bis own opinion by saying to himself that he bad uot meant to listen. Could he defend himself as successfully with Conny? Possibly, but not certainly. So he asked no questions, not alluding, even, to a mystery which was neoessarily no mystery to her. That she knew all about it he was perfectly well satisfied if she chose to speak sbe would do so.

With Daddy Miller it was different. Norcross was not a guest there, only a lodger, and one day he said. "Who comes to see you often at late hours of the night? Do you know one thing, Daddy Miller?—if you lived on the seashore 1 should set you down for a smuggler." "Smugglers?" said Daddy, scratching his head gently, and smiling in a guile leas way. "Oh, yes: I've hyeard about sich. But we're a long ways off from the sea, I'm told." "Well tbat Is the difficulty. You and your friends are not smugglers. What are vou?" "Bless your soul, we're honest peo-

EIssweet

Jay's

le," said the gutless Daddy Miller, with smile—"plain country people a-visiting each other at odd times after work." "One of yotir friends la named Tony who is Tony?"

TT

T-L*

TERRE i-T A17TE SATURDAY E EN IN G- MAIL.

you a reply to it in a few

days. "I see Harry has given up chasing Indians in IcHlho to come East and get married in October. Give my love to him and my little sister to be, and tell them I'll certainly be present at the wedding. Your friend, "JOHN NORCROSS."

This letter defines clearly enough the situation of affairs when it was written. John Norcross had fallen in love with Conny Neal, and the affair was serious. It was actually his first passion, and and men enter upon their maiden campaign in love, as in war, with very different feelings from those of old battered soldiers tried in numerous encounters. As he knew the girl better aud better, she quite charmed him. She had great force of character, a temperament as open his own, and a warmth of heart under her calm exterior which quite fascinated him. She was not at all "sly," and entirely without finesse, that bane of female character she concealed nothing—not even her growing fondness for Norcross. It is probable she did not realize this, or no doubt she would have schooled her voice and face whea he came. She schooled neither, and was all the more charming to him as she came to meet him with a faint color in her cheeks, and eyes which caressed him as he approached.

a'sru. -r'wiiJilvTT

"Tony?—you know Tony? Ob, yea, Tony Tummies is a neighbor of ours." "What Is his business?" •'Business?" He'a a poor man, and puts in his little crap and shoots game for his family."

Norcross mused, not satisfied with the reply. "Look here, Daddy Miller," he said, "you're not talking to an outsider or an enemy, I am not a Virniuian, but I like your people, If I am a Northerner. So'iiething la going ou tbat will get you into trouble. What is it? Are you KuKluxes? That's a bad business, but none of my business, and I won't report you to B'aine or Conkling. But what are you about? I know more than you think. Make a clean breasfrof it— you can trust me."

Here a worthy, past middle age. in a scare-crow snit of clothes and heavy boots, came in. An old brown slouched hat was perched on his shock of hair, his eyes were piercing, and his thin lips smiled ironically. A stubble of beard surrounded tbem, and tobacco juice decorated the depressed corners. "Why, Tony," said Daddy Miller, shaking bands, "we were just talking of you. My young friend here thinks something's going on hereabouts." "Something a going on?" said Tony Tummies, with an Innocent air, full of mild inquiry, and ducking his head in a friendly way to Norcross. "He thinks it's the Ku Klux,whatever tbat might be," said Daddy Millet.

At this the new-comer laughed. "Oh, nol we're peaceful people. No trouble about here, though I'm told there is below yonder. Oh no! But I jest dropped in, Daddy Miller, to borry vour screw wrenoh. My plowshare, the dratted thing, is broke agin."

Whereupon they discoursed on country matters, aud repaired to a shed to hunt up the screw wrench.

Thereafter Norcross felt that he was watcned. This fact was plain to him in many ways. At Daddy Miller's, chance vlfitora, or what seemed to be such, looked sidewise at him, and he caught their eyes. The .mysterious night visits ceased, and the coming and going fell off perceptibly. Eyes seemed to follow him everywhere and even Aunty Miller, the venerable meal bag, would lower her spectacles until they rested on her ancient nose, and gaze at Nor cross over them as she sat knitting a stocking in her wadded arai chair in a corner. He was evidently the center of general interest, and especially when be went hunting or fishing. Accidentally someone seemed always in his vicinity. Sometimes it was a mountain urchin, with a diminutive mule and a chickencoop of a cart, hacking dry wood for the home kitchen. Sometimes it was a girl with tangled hair gathering sumac, or a hunter, gun on shoulder, who met him iu out of the way places, and looked keenly at him. These encounters had not taken place during the early part of bis sojourn in the mountains. That they oocurred so frequently now left no doubt that they wore intentional. To repeat, Mr. John Norcross felt that all eyes were upon him, and his curiosity deepened to ascertain what it all meant.

Ho was soon to discover. One autumn afternoon John Norcross and Conny Neal came at last to understand each other. They had walked out from the small house on the slope of the mountain to the river, and were wandering along the bank, talking only now and then, and rather vaguely. The sun was near the summit of a fringe of woods crowning the western mountain, and the gold of the leaves shaded off into the green-orange of the sky. The river brawled over its rocks, carpeted with moss and ferns of a hundred varieties. Here and there a huge pine or poplar, with a cavern washed away under the gnarled roots, bent over the current, dipping its tassels or tulip like buds into the foam..

They sat down, and the old story, which has been told over and over again for the last six thousand years, was told in the autumn evening. Norcross poured out the whole burden of his thoughts in his frank, ardent voice, and Conny only answered in a murmer. As she turned-her bead slowly over ber shoulder, however, and fixed her eyes upon his own in one long glance, shy, confused, but confiding, Norcross knew that there was no longer any doubt, and putting nis arm around her neck, he drew her to him and kissed her. "Now, Conny," he said, his face glowing, "we will go home and ask your father."

They went back hand in band, and Norcross dii not drop the hand as he walked up to the porch where Captain Neal wai sitting. Conny went up stairs and Norcross sat down and told his host everything.

Neal listened without a word. He seemed to be musing, and bis face was impenetrable. When Norcross had finished, he said, "S3 you wish me to give you the only human being that makes life worth anything to me.

Neal said nothing. It was easy to see, under his soldierly coolness, that a storm was raging in bis breast. His brows contracted, and be drewf a long breath, his eyes fixed upon tho ground, At length he raised his bead, and Norcross was struck with something noble and imposing in bis firm look. "The time has come for us to speak plainly, my young friend," he said, in his strong, vibrating voice. "First, do you know who aud what I am? I am an ex-Confederate soldier, and feel as I felt when I fought with Lee. The South is crushed, and all that is over, but the men of the South are not crushed, or ready to court her old enemies." "So be it," said Norcross "do not do so.

The

North does not expect it. You

were a good Confederate, and went with your people remain so still." "1 am more—or worse, if you choose— than an ex Confederate I am an illicit distiller of spirits in this mountain."

Norcross turned his head qulcfcly, and looked at bis host. "Ah! that explains everything," he said—"all the coming and going and mystery yonder and here. You are •moonshiners,' as the cant phrase is." "Yes," said Neal.

Norcross kult his brows. All was perfectly plain to him now—the looks of Doddo and Aunty Miller, the visits of Tony Tammies, the watching, every-

tb"lf

is a pity, a great pity," he said, involuntarily, "in a man like you." "I am no better than my neighbors," said Neal, ooolly a little better educated, perhape, but they were Southern soldiers like myself, and fought as well, perhaps better. We are all poor alike now, though I was well-to-do once. are honest men,and not ashamed of anything we do." "But this illicit business, Captain Neal—you are acting in open defiance of lftW«" "Yes, of Federal law the State receives its tax. The Federal law is an oppression and we disregard it. We make whisky and dispose of it^in tbia region without pa eral and let us aloue." "But bow can tbat be? The law mast be enforced."

"The

it."

revenue collectors cannot enforce

\_

"Then It is the duty of the government to send troops'to see tbat lb a laws are obeyed." "Let them send tbem."

Yon will resist?" "Certainly." ••With arms?" "Assuredly. I mean that the we will fight," said Neal, coolly.

Norcross drew a long deep breath. It was easy to see that be was troubled. It was impoHsible to look upon Neal as a vulgar law breaker engaged in illicit putsuIts from mere greed of money. Right or wrong, he was acting as he believed he bad the right to do, looking at the matter Irom his own point of view. But then to marry the daughter of an illicit distiller! To take bis bride, tbe motberof his children, from such sursurroundings! He was not much of an aristocrat, but tbe idea grated and his feelings were perhaps reflected In bis face. "I have been frank, you see, friend," Neal said in a few moments. "Let this eud everything. You oannot marry my daughter. I am a law breaker, aud may be thrown into jail to-morrow as a common criminal, or shot if I resist the revenue officers."

Norcross knit his brows again, making no reply. "You see all that must be forgotten," said Neal. "You will go back and lose sightof everything here, and we will remain good friends. You are a fine fellow, and I liked you from the first. Let us part in peace. You will soon forget Conny—" "I cannot forget her! I caunot give her up!" the young man exclaimed. "I cannot live without her!" "And yet you expect me to do so," said Neal, calmly, but with the same deep feeling evident under bis coolness "You ask me to give up all I care for on earth! What will my life be to me without ber? I am alone in this world if she leaves me. She is my only child. I loved her mother more than man ever loved woman, I honestly believe, In this world, and when sbe left me I wished to die too. I was in despair—it is an extreme word, but a true one. I broke my heart longing for my wife the only woman I ever loved, and all that made lile endurable was tbe love of my little girl. She has grown up at last from a rosy cheeked child to a woman. She is my companion, my sole thought, all I value on earth—and you come and say to me, 'Give me Conny, because I,love her.' Do I not love her too? What am I to do here in this lonely bouse without her?'

Before Norcross could reply to these words a man on arawboned poney came up a path leading from tbe river at full speed. He was a scarecrow figure with a ragged felt hat, and he carried a gun in his left hand. Norcross recognized Tony Tummies. "Look out, Captain!" he cried as he reached the small gate "they are coming!"

Neal coolly rose and walked to the fence. "Where are they?" he said. "On the road, five miles off." "How many?" "A squad of fifteen—cavalry with carbines.'" "Did you see them yourself. Your report last month turned out to be notbing."

They were coming here then, but went to the Kanawhs. They are aftnr

us now—I

talked with some of tbem in

tbe town." Neal leaned on the fence for a moment, reflecting. He then said: "Give tbe men notice, and order them to be at the old place in an hour. No man is to show himself or fire at anybody. They will have firing enough before morn­

ing." "You mean to fight, then, captain said Tony Tummies, with an air of great delight. "Certainly I do." "Hurrah i" cried Mr. Tummies. "You couldn't please tbe boys better, captain. They don't like the blue coats. 1 eetched to git at 'em in town yonder my gnn burned my fingers. The boys'11 get the orders, captain."

With which Mr. Tony Tummies dug his heels into his horse and disappeared at full speed in tbe woods covering the side of the mountain. Neal then turned to Norcross. "You see," he said coolly, "the affair will be settled sooner than I expected. There will be a fight co-night, and perhaps this is our last meeting. You see the hand of tbe law is stretched out to clutch me, and that ends all discussion. You cannot marry the daughter of a man who will be in jail to-morrow, perhaps—if he is alive." "No matter!" exclaimed Norcross.^ "It is nothing to me. Give me Conny."

Neal looked at him mournfully, with a sudden softness in his bold eyes. "You love her really," he said "I can see that Well, let us come to an agreement. I mean to fight to-night, and the ma'ter will be no child's play. If I am killed, Conny will be alone in the world—" "No she will have me!" Norcross exclaimed.

Neal grasped his hand and said, "Then all is arranged take her. Now I advise you to go home. The revenue guard will soon be here."

Norcross did not in VF-Conny Neal's steps were heard coining down the stairs. "I am not going," he said—'"back to Daddy Miller s, at least." "Where, then?" "Where you are going—into the moun-

About ten miles from Neal's was the town of a long, straggling village with numerous stores, some private residences, a blacksmith's shop, and a tavern, the resort of idlers and quidnuncs generally, who solaced their leisure with drams of bad whisky served to them by barkeeper with soap locks and in bis shirt sleeves.

On the afternoon of this day a cr^wd had gathered in front of the tavern. They were looking at a number of United States cavalrvmen in blue coats, who were going*to and coming from the blacksmith's shop with their horses, or taking tbe animals to water at a little stream overshadowed by willows which crossed the main road at the edge of the village. On the veranda, which extend* ed along the whole front of the tavern, a young man in the uniform of a lieutenant of cavalry was seated smoking a cigar. His appearance was rather foppish. His hair was long and curling, a delicate mustache shaded his lips, and tbe hand holding the cigar was covered with jewels. With his elegant riding boots elevated upon the railing before him, he leaned back in an attitude of careless ease, conversing with a personage in citizen's dress, who was standing QCMir* "I will set out In half an hour," said be, carelessly. "You and your people are ready, I suppose?" "At any minute, lieutenant, said the man in citlaen's dress, who was a middle aged personage with a black leather box swung like a sachel on bis left side. "It's a cursed business I am sent on, said tbe cigar smoker, negligently, "and none of my seeking. Here I am, Lieutenant

Harry

Norcross, very mu«h at

[*mtinucd on Seventh Page,}

BROWNS ExpeStiS'rant

The ool reliable remedy for all Tliroit and Lung Diseases. Is a scientific preparation, compoutideil from the formulaof oneof the most successful practitioners in the Western couatry. it has st«Kxl the test for the last twenty years, and will effect a cure after all other cough remedies have failed.

Read the Following:

HA.LL.or REPRESENTATIVES, IMR»KAPOLts, Iwd., ••eb 15.1871,

DR. J. H. BROWN:— We have uaed your "Brown's Expectorant," and take pleasure in saying that we found tt the best medicine ever used Tor Coughs, Cold«, and Hoarseness, and cheerfully recommeni it to all WHO may be troubled with Throat and Lung affections

Wm Mack, Speaker House Rep, Zenor, Rep Harrison oounty, Li Cauthorn, Rep Knox county, I) Montgomery, Rep Johnson county,

Tamon, R*p Juhuson and Morgan counties, FHchetl, Doorkeeper House Rep, S Warum, Rep Hancoc* county,

AbUett, Rep Bartholomew county Calkins Rep Fulton county, Jno W Copuer, Rep Montgomery county W GNeff, Kep Putnam county.

It Acts Like Magic.

OFFICK and I. R. K. CO.,

EFFKRSOJF VILLK 1ND., APRIL 6,1871. DR. J. M. BROWS Having suffered with a severe cough for some time past, I was induced to try one bott of your "Brown's Ex pec to ram." I unhesitatingly say I found it pleasant to the taste, and to act like magic. A few doses done the work for the oougb,aud I am well.

DILLABD RICKETTS,

PRESIDJIXT J. M. and i. K. R.

Read What Geo. Kimball Says.

j^IXDlAJfAPOLis, Ind,, Dec. 80,1869. DR. J.H. BROWN After having used yoar "Expectorant Syrup" long enough to know and appreciate it* good qualities, 1 oau cheerfully bear testimony to its uniform success iu curing the ost obstinate cases ol Caughs, Colds, etc. I have frequently administered the Expectorant" to my children, and always found it the very best,as well as most pleasant remedy of Its kind.

NATHAN KIMBALL, Treasurer of State.

What a Cast) of Consumption Says.

David A. Sands, of Darlington, Montgomery county, says: "My wife has been afflicted with consumption for a number of years, and during that time has tried most all the medicines recommended for that disease without affording any re'ief. 1 WHS induced by ihei'ec jinmendatioas of Dr. Kirk, druggist at Darlington, to try'Brown's Expectorant Syrup,' aud 1 am now happpy to say wile is so much linpioved lam conwill entirely restore her health by fldent it its continued use."

It Cures Bronchitis.

EDINBURGH, IXD., August 28,1871.

1

This is to certify thai I have used 'Brown Expectorant'in trfy family since itsflrstintroductiou. It has never failed to givesatiFlaciion. Mvwife l.« sul»|t»ctio Bronchitis, and I have 'found no remedy equal to "Brown's Expectorant I recommend it as a safe and reliable medicine.

J. T. BHEXTOS.M.D.

Browns Expectorant

la For Sale by All Druggists.

A. KIEFER,

INDIANAPOLIS.

"OH! MY BACK!

Pains In the Back, Side or Loins are cured

N S

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It.<p></p>HUNT'S

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REMEDY

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