Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 10, Number 37, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 13 March 1880 — Page 3

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

Thanksgiving Joe.

[Continuedfrom*Second Page. tea out for him, to satisfy a,whim of his and be had folded op *be paper, and carried it aignt aad day ever since. If be bad spoken plainly that night, would ebe have become more than a friend? Alas, perhaps!—yet no, no.

A hundrea times he had been tbankfuk that she was ignorant of his love and his sacrifice that ^be had left her with a pleasant farewell, expecting to return after two or three years, with money enough to justify him In asking for her \hand that he bad never betrayed his feelings in those friendly letters which he had sent so regularly, and which were so regularly answered until—ab! he must not think of that. Her dear letters were all destroyed. He had burned them himself, keeping only the

Thanksgiving text, and vowing for her

sake,

and his own soul's sake, and the sake—of him whom Jenny loved, to live apart from her, save in his secret thoughts, and, haply, in the life to come. To-morrow was Thanksgiving Day again, and he tried to think it a good omen. His »acrifice was not complete to-night, he hoped, would happily perfect his work. Yet the pain ol loss was not wholly dead and even at this moment he would give worlds to undo utterly, so that it could be as if it had not been, the scheme which he was nevertheless ready to give his life, if need be, to consummate. For a man is still a man and Joe was only thirty, for all bis white hairs.

Absorbed in thought, he heeded not tho sound of climbing feet, until a step close at hand aroused nim. As he sprang up and stood erect, with the firelight full upon blm, William Hazard strode suddenly out of the darkness, looked for instant with an intense, bewildered, righted gaze, into .his eyes, and staggered speechless back against tho corner of the cabin, staring as at a ghost. The governor's proclamation fell from Joe's hands, which were stretched out in hearty welcome. "Don't look at me that way, Will," he said. "I see you know me now, though you did not this morning. I'm changed since my fever—but not in my heart toward you."

The stony look of fright passed from tho pale, young face, the hard lines softened but Will Hazard sMIl shrank from the clasp of Joe's welcoming bands. "Shoot," ho said, folding his arms across his breast "it's your turn, and I'm glad of it." "Amen 1" roplied the deep voice of Thanksgiving Joe. "It i* my turn your life belongs to me. Is it not so?" flis visitor nodded without speaking, and gloomily smiled his contempt for the worthless existence alluded to. "I suppose I may spare it, if I prefer that way," said Joe. "As you choose,"

Bald

with paper for

Hazard.

"As I was saying this morning," continued Joe, with a quiet consciousness of the power over a desperate soul which this strange interview had for a moment given him, "I want a partner, and you are the man. I told you to cotno hero and talk it over and you have corno. Now. if I|klll you, bow can we talk it over?" he added slowly, and rubbed his hands together in mute applause at the triumphant argument. "There's somo mistake, Will. You gave me uo chance to explain, otherwise you could not have thought I was your enemy." Then, suddenly changing his mannor, ho asked, "Have you heard Iroui Jenny Lockbart?" "What is thff use of tormenting me with her name?" returned Will. "She is tho cause of all the trouble. A woman is not worth a friend and for that woman I threw my friend away. I loved you, George, till the devil of jealousy took possession of me. When I left the .States, three years ago, she had promised to be my wife. You were her oousln and my friend. She wrote to you, and you read me her letters. They wero pleasant, cousinly letters, and I liked to heir them. 1 did not tell you of the love letters alio wrote at the same time to lue. I wanted to watch you. "You carried in your belt a paper which you never showed. I felt sure it contained your secret. I tried to get it without your knowledge but you kept It always on your body, night and day. At last you did rocoive a letter—a letter from her—whloh you did not show to me. I 8aw you read it, at night, by the light of the camn fire, when you thought 1 was asleep. You put your head in your hands, and sat a long time. Then you took from your bosom a package of letters, put them all in the fire with the one you had just read, aud watched them till they were burned up. You took that paper from your belt, as If you would burn that |too aud, as you did so, I prepared to spring from blanket, and seizo it. I was determined to kuow what was in it. But you read it through, sbook your head, and put it back iu your bolt. "The next day asl we were exploring, two or three miles from our camp, we came over the summit to the head oi this canon. You know well onough what happened. You sat down close hv this spot, on the croppings of that ledge, aud began to tell me that you had received a letter from Jenny. It was too much for me to bear I had been cursing over it all night anyhow. I hated her and you as a pair of doubledealing dooeivers. I forgot that she only was deceiving me you could uot knew that I was engaged to her. I interrupted you fiercely, charged you treachery, demanded the secret from you, and, without waiting your answer, sprang upon yea iu a fury to snatch the belt from your waist. "We fell together. I swear to you, George

Graham, that I did not draw my

revolver. It went off by accidont. But the rage of murder was in nay heart and it seemed to mo as if my black

thought uwu Cain. But I would have come back to only I saw from a distance a party as if guided

WilVtV 1VU *wj» W—— up, ana knew by their angry gestures, and their keen looks In every direction, that they were determined to hunt down your murderer. At first 1 would have returned and surrendered myself but when some of them started in the direction where I crouched, the instinct of fear took hoid on me, and I ran. They neither caught nor discovered me and I found my way to Austin, to Virginia City, to Unionville, to Boise, to Helena, to Salt

Lake,

to Denver, to

Santa Fe, to PreecoU and Tucson, to La Pax, and 8an Diego, to Ban Francisco, Sacramento, Yroka—everywhere, with the devil in my heart. "Two deeirea tortured me forever. 1 could not destroy them, and I dared not fulfill them. One was to return to this place, gain some new* of you, and find

to

at least yotlr grave. The other was go back to Jersey, meet Jenny Lockbart and tell her of the ruin she had brought on honest men—how one had lost his life, and the other bis soul, by her faithlessness, and so make her taste a sha^e of the bitterness that I felt. I couldn't do It—I—in short,»I loved the girl yet, In spite of all she had done, and I despised myself for it. I'm bad enoagb— too bad, in fact, to take any pleasure in the bepstly sins of these low-lived wretches. I don't like mankind well enough to drink or gamble with them. I dou't fight them even, though they seem to think me a desperate fellow, who would as soon kill a dozen of them as not. Bah! if a man simply despises them, they think he must want their blood. Sots, thieves and murderers that's their classification of society. They were right, so far as I am concerned. I was a murderer in passion, and 1 thought in deed but the business had no such attractions as to make me intend to carry it on wholesale, and for life. "I'll not make a long story of it. But you wanted to talk it over, and you had better hear me out. When I am done, I am done. I don't play the repentant sinner with you, George Graham. It seems to me there is no room and no use for repentance. I could love you— if you could trust me again but that's impossible. Your forgiveness I don't want. What I want is to pay my debt. I will not be your partner but, if you will let me work for you, it will be better reparation than I expected make when I came up here to-night, same here, as I came to this camp a fortnight ago, because I couldn't keep away. When they talked of Thanksgiving Joe, and showed me your cabin, on the very spot that was the most dreadful to me in all the world, I knew in my soul that somehow my fate was fastened to yours. I thought you had my secret, and would be mr judge. I wouldn't let anybody tell dte the story of Thanksgiving Joe—the name was awful to me. And st last you found me, and called me—and I came to my doom. It is better than I dreamed. Even I can give thanks to know that George Graham, hated and wronged, was not killed outright by the hand of his treacherous friend. "George, I will do for you what man may do. Perhaps you may some day begin to trust me over again, and lay the blame of my crime upon the woman who betrayed us both."

to

During this long speech neither of the parties had moved. Will Hazard stood, at its conclusion, with his arms still folded, and looked into the fire. He had kept his eyes fixed on the glowing brands, speaking in low, measured tones, as if another spoke through him. But George Graham bad never removed his keen gaze from the face of his friend and now be stepped forward once more, laid his hand upon Will's shoulder, and bald— "Thank God, you love her yet!"

The young man, taken by surprise at this sudden assault, started, and tried to speak. But George went on, with simple, quaint gravity— "No: it is my turn now. Come here and sit down. As I said before, I want a partner. Now we're going to talk n, over. You're all wrong, will. If you had seen the letter I bnrned, you would know that Jenny Lockhart was true as steel to you. She told me in that letter —what you had not let me know. She begged me to be your friend always, as I had been hers. I—I'd rather not talk about that night. It's all past now, you know," said George, with a tremor of his voice. Will did not perceive it: he was too much absorbed in the effeot of the discovery upon his own feelings. "Then you didn't love her, after all!" be cried "you were only her cousin and friend!"

There was a moment's silence and then George answered like an echo from afar, "Yes, her cousin and friend." "But you burned up her letters?" pursued the young man, so eagerly following the clew of the riddle that seemed to hold bis happiness as to forget entirely for the moment his recent attitude of confessed culprit. "And you kept one?"

Thanksgiving Joe, with slow and steady hand, unbuckled his belt, took from it the folded paper, opened it, and handed it to him, saying, without further explanation, "We'll burn that too."

Will read, bewildered,the words which seomed so far from being the shrine of any special secret. 'Let us come before his presence with Thanksgiving.' There is nothing in that!"

Thanksgiving Joe silently stretched out his hand, took back the paper, replaced it in his belt, and with a simplicity that was more battling than diplomacy, resumed the thread of his discourse. "As I was saying, I want a partner. To-morrow morning you'll write to Jenny and we two will go to work in earnest. It won't be long before you can go back to her. We are wiser than we were. It isn't worth while to spend a lifetime trying to get ready to begin. Jenny don't want you to be rich. She said so in—in that letter. When we get a good mine, you can go home, and leave me to work it. I am better off out here I've got used to the country. I mean to live and die out here somewhere. And if you and Jenny will write to me—why, I won't burn your letters any more."

This pleasantry had a mournful tone that would have revealed to any disinterested observer the sorrow that lurked beneath. But Will's thoughts were miles away and when he recalled them, it was only for self reproach. He lamented gloomily his unworthlness, and declared that though heaven now opened before him, he dared not set his foot upon the threahold. "No, George," ho said, "I owe the rest of my life to yon. If we could go back together—but what folly! Here we sit, as poor aa your old Mammoth vein there, and dream of happiness. I have earned and squandered money enough in these two years past to make onr dreams come true: but now I must reap what I have sown, ft was almost better to believe her false."

He roso gloomily as he spoke, and George did not detain him. His morbid mind could not be all at once restored to health. It was better to let him be alone for a while, and realise his new position. So George rose also, and the two men clasped bands for a brief farewell. An instant they stood thu and then, by a common impulse, kis each other. It was the pledge of recontheir relation seemed to be settled by it for thev narted with an air of femilf

dilation and hope. The terms of ion seemed to be settled by ey parted with an air of familiarity, and with no more formal words than, "Well, good night, old fellow. Take care of yourself. See yon in the morning." Whereat Thanksgiving Joe went straightway into bis cabin, and Will Hazard took the path down the canon. The former, exhausted by the interview, bat at p&ico with himself, rolled into his bunk, and soon slept soundly but the latter stopped half way down the bill, seated himself on a rock, and gave hhr»«wif up to wakeful meditation.

AU this time the governor's proclamation of Thanksgiving bad lain unnoticed where it bad fallen from Joe's hands. The fire had burned nearly out but a few coals remained, to brighten occasionally as a pan of the night wind touched them. At every puff, moreover,

the newspaper with the governor's proclamation hitched a little nearer to the fire. Between times It paused, or seemed to retreat, then, by rolling over, and sliding swiftly forward, it made up every loss of ground. It seemed to be alive, and hesitating, while it advanced, to carry out some plan of mischief: At last with a leao of undisguised intent, it fell upon the embers, swept across them, bunting into flame as it did so, and flying over the short intervening space, clHng like a fiery monster to the dry, resincus pinon stems of the cabin, within which, unconscious of his peril, lay Thanksgiving Joe.

A moment later Will Hazard was aware of a lurid light that threw his own shadow in front of him, and starting from his revery, turned to see wrapped in flames the cabin he^had recently left. His trumpet call of "Fire!" brought the miners from their work or sleep and a dozen men were soon hastening up the hillside. But Will had the start of them by along ascent and with flying feet he sped to the cabin, shouting as he bounded up the rocky steep.

Thanksgiving Joe was dreaming of a quiet Jersey village church, and a sweet face therein, when he was aroused by the shouts, and sprang up bewildered to find himself surrounded with smoke and flame. A step through the scorching circle wonld have placed him in safety but alas! in his confusion he rushed in the wrong direction, and instead oi escaping by the door irDfront, stumbled over the the pile of rock anu ore at the rear of his cabin, and fell headlong into the shaft of the Mammoth. A second after, Will Hazard leaped through the blazing ruins, calling his friend's name. The bed, the room, were empty but a feeble voice replied from the depths to his frantic call, and by the light of the burning cabin he saw Thanksgiving Joe lying helpless, twelve feet below hfm, at the bottom of the shaft.

The first miners that arrived met Will carrying in his arms a heavy burden, the body of his friend. Thanksgiving Joe (by this name he was best known to them and to us) had fainted away. Tenderly they carried him to the nearest cabin, and applied their simple means of restoration. But for hours they coHld not bring him back to consciousness.

It was during this period that Sam Wetherill, who had been foremost in service by the bunk of the sufferer, stepped to where Will Hazard sat in a stupor of grief, touched him on the shoulder, and beckoned him to follow. He was obeyed, and presently the two men stood together in the open air. The dawn was breaking. "Look here!" said Sam quietly. "This yer business has got to be explored. I was at Joe's cabin last night, and I know he was expectin' you. If you've got any remarks to make, you might as well make 'em to me—unless you prefer a committee."

This allusion to lynch law did not move the nerves of the pale young man. whose reputation as a desperado seemed now likely to put him in peril. "If George Graham dies," said he, "I shall not want to live."

Sam turned, with a quick revulsion of feeling. "You knowed him? you loved him?" said he. "He was the best man in the sage brush. Thar warn't no discount on him. He warn't no slouoh. He was a man—give us your hand!" And the disoovery of a big burn, hitherto unheeded, on Will Hazard's hand, furnished final testimony to his sincere efforts for the rescue of Thanksgiving Joe.

At this moment occurred another' incident, for the preliminary explanation of which a few words are required.

Redhead Pete, it will be remembered, has gone on one of his periodical hunts after the lost silver mine. For many days, nothing has been heard from him. But now, in the cold, first light of the morning, he comes over the summit, ragged, hirsute, defeated, but not conquered. Once more his quest has failed, yet the hope which inspired it springs eternal in bis heart.

He pauses at the sight of the smoldering ruins of Joe's cabin. No one is near to explain the mystery. Pete walks to the end of the shaft, among the smoking brands, and reflectively turns over with his booted foot the blackened fragments of Joe's pile of worthless ore. "This yer base metal," he mutters—but suddenly he stoops, seizes a stone, rubs it up and down on his buckskin breeches to clean its surface, and eagerly examines a dozen little whitish pellets that seemed to be clinging to it like drops of perspiration. As a final test, he takes out his jack knife, and cuts into one of them. It is pure silver!

Pete is no fool his credulity towards Shoshones and tbeir legends does not prevent him now from behaving like a wise and prudent man. He walks to the end of Joe's claim on the Mammoth and there erects one of the half burnt poles of the cabin, on which he rudely carves the words, "Ex. No. 1, South, Peter Jackson." Then, and not before, he comes down into the quiet, solemn camp, leaping from rock to rock, with hair and arms flying abroad,and whooping and shouting:— "Whar's Thanksgiving Joe? Whar is he? That thar ledge of hls'n's the clear bullion: the ore only want's to be burnt, 'n the silver jest biles out of it."

And so, bestowing on the air and on the distant ears of men his reckless and fragmentary explanatiens, he rushes downward to the spot where Sam and Will are standing. Their sad faces hush him at once. Bat Thanksgiving Joe, lying until now unconscious within the cabin, has been aroused by the shouts, has recognized his name, has opened his eyes, ana looked around upon the sorrowful company, as for some missing face. Divining his mute request, the colonel steps to the door and calls in the three who stand outside. As they enter, Joe looks inquiringly upon them. Sam takes his hand. "All right, old man!" says Sam. "Yon jest shake yerself, 'n you'll git over this. Thar's good news at last. That thar Mammoth Ledge, as we all thought was base metal, was jest nothin' but this yer roasting ore, llse what they tell of up to Austin—base metal ef you try to work it wet, 'n putty nigh the clear spoon metal if you jest warm it up with fire aforehand."

Candor compels me to state that several of the sympathetic audience glide quietly from the room during these brief remarks, and, on getting outside the honse, begin a fierce race to the Mammoth claim—a proceeding which Redhead Pete, secure in the possession of Extension No. 1, South, regards with quiet amusement.

Thanksgiving Joe listens intelligently. "Thank God!" his faint

TERRE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING- MAIL

{and

voice

.*

nobody bere that'll go back on your words." A murmur of subdued assent runs round the room. Will Hazard falls .on his knees by the bxnk, and buries his face in the hlanket. Thanksgiving Joe, still holding Sam Wetherill's hand in one of his own, lays the other upon Will's clustering hair. "Give her my love, Will," he says', and closes his eyes for several minutes. The stillness is broken only by sobs from the kneeling figure of Hazard. At last the dying man looks up once more. "My belt,' ke says. They had taken it off when they were hunting upon his body for the injuries, which, being, alas! internal, could neither be found nor cured. Now they bring it to him, and once more his fingers feebly seek the precious paper which it contains. He draws it forth, reads with fading sight the well known lines. A wave of peace glides over his face, an expression of unutterable gratitude. Soundlessly his lips form the solemn "Amen." The band falls lifeless—Joe has obeyed the summons of 'the Almighty Father, and entered into his presence with thanksgiving.

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.\fl NtrVM: SAFT

murmurs,

breaking into the familiar ascription for the last time. Then, gathering his strength, be says with an effort, bat distinctly— "Gentlemen, my name is George Graham. This man, William Hazard, ia my dear friend and partner. He is half owner in the Mammoth claim and the half interest that belongs to me—I hereby—give and bequeath—to him—in trust—for Miss Janet Lockhart—he knows. Sam, you will see the papers straight V*

Sam nods. "Whatever you say, Joe, Is better*n law in this camp. There's

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Above eold by lraggWt«. Hop BlttCT»Mfg.Co. Rochet ter.N.Y

unknown remedialele

which aiM'liod to the back, and lmfiw «iny ovrf th« BJdn«y* will bsnlitapi •ml Kcatnnia and rouM thoaedornu„igau into aaw life, lliscomfortftblsl tn* (latixot, Cortain In Its effeott, nui »iii

n(»«itiveiT

cure Diabetes*

OraTili Brlehtl-I)1MI%

luUAitHiiiii 1011 tho K1

dn*i|. IncojQtlneU0«

of llrlne. C»t«rrh of

it 11 or Pnlnhil VUMt-

*r*"lrnliiff

I ritis. Brick

Dnst Depo

ii.Mlliy.

Female Com plat"

....if! fnct alldifordera artslDK ,.1.11.111 of th« Kidneys. Bladdfl 'tfHtm, "hi-ti not blue else can. ut iii luaVJ l*r KIDNEY

Hoi* I'reprliton, Tol®do»OhHk and «ur LiUl* Book, Hew

BUNTIN & ARMSTRONG, TERRE HAUTE, IND., Distributing Agents for Vigo and Vermillion countics. Dealers supplied at lowest wholesale rates.

The Only Remedy I THAT ACTS AT THE SAHE TIME OH THE LIVER,

e#*,fcslM»es4er«f syes, mtU

1

THE BOWELS, and

tho KIDNEYS.,

This combined action gives it wonI derful power to cure all diseases. I Why Are Wei8icjf?

Because tw allow these great organs I to become clogged or torpid, and poisonous "humors are therefore forced into the blood that should be eccpeded \naturatty.

fa**

BILIOUSNESS* PILES. CONSTIPATION KIDNET C0MPLAWT8. CBINABI DISEASES* FEMALE WKAK-

HESSE8, AHD NEBT0US DISOBDEBS,

by causing free action of these organs and restoring their power to throw off disease.

Why Saffer Bilioaspalns and sehes Why teraent«d irithPilim, Constipation! Why frightened orer disordered Kidneys

Way eadars norrons or sick hesdsehesl Why have sleepless nights Uu KIDNEY WOHT and r^oice In health. It it a dry, vegetable compound cmd flai inttiyr"' —t"lT Get it of your Prugqid, h» tcill order for you. Price, $1AJ0.

WZLLS, SICSASS30S A CO., feprfitort (WClModpotpoU.) BgrUngtoa, Vj.

TRUTH l&Kianm if a a

OCWM, sWfcwii

MM S —f «f JV*t fdtri kw

4 4

irnmdrn •—i. HM I wlptow ye wtB flrst »«s*» mi 4— efpaee* rt«*n«*freaa»frrf. KAftTI*gX.4*Prws«

Thu

Tfc« Aruhdel Tinted Spectacles For the relief and cure of Dim, Weak and Failing Sight, Enabling the wearer to read and work either by day or night, with perfect ease and comfort. Protected by letters of patent granted by the government of the united mates, England and the United Kingdom. For sale by

S. B. FREEMAN, Agent.

TO ALL who suffer from RhetiniAtl*jn, irom tvueu»M»w«j-p Paraly*!#, Neurftlg^ Nervous and Sexual

my Book on Medical Klectricity auaj«.i«

live® by CUBING ALL. CH iWar EASES. HendHym^P'^VriRB^lfl w! Diaenosis to DR. U. W. FORBEO,

K*

Feortb slieet, Cincinnati, Ohio.

ROSES!

6 BOMSor12 Bnlbsor 12 Plants, by mall, for IJ .00. Send for catalogue. B. REED, Chambersburg, Fa.

I