Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 12, Number 30, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 21 January 1882 — Page 6

THE MAIL

PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

A KISS AT THE DOOR. ,,

We were standing in the-doorway My little wtfe and IThe golden sun upon her hair

Fell down

BO

silently

A small white hand upon ray arm What could I a»k for more Than the

kindly

glances of loving eyes

AH she Jclwsed me at the door

Who cares tor wealth, or land, or gold, Or fame, or matchless power? It does not give the happiness

Of just one little hour With one who loves me as her life— lju She nays "she loves me more"— And I thought she did this morning,

When she kissed me at the door.

S At timed It «eem that all the world, With all it* wealth and gold, In very small and poor indeed

Compared with what I hold! And when the clouds hang grim and dark I only wait the more For one who waits my comingBted

To kiss me at the door.

If she lives till age shall scatter The frost upon her h« ad, I know she'll love me Just the same

As the morning we were wed But if the angels call her, ,, And she goes to Heaven before, I shall know her when I meet her,

For she'll kiss me at the door.

THE

Ebony Cross.

•i" I .-I

A Romance of the Border.

BY DAYTON M17JLGROVB.

Anthor of "Redno the Dwarf," "Mod Blnndon," "Delraven's Crime," "Cripple of Gondau," etc, etc.

F' CHAPTER 1. A TRIAL OF SKILL. It was a balmy Summer morning, over a score of years ago, that we call the reader's attention to a group of backwoodamen aasemblod on the grass plat in front of Martin Dale's log tavern.

Tbe tavern stood on an eminence that crowned the oenter of a small clearing. It was on a line of considerable travel between the upper or northern settlements, and the village of Brawhill the latter a town of considerable importance en the Western border, although as vet nntonched by any of the railroads that were gradually working their way westward.

On the morning in question, a party consisting Of a score of bordermen, had met at tbe tavern (or the purpose of engaging in target-shooting.

It was a gala day for the hardy sons of the forest—a day long looked forward to irtth deep interest by the crack shots, for circuit of many miles.

A wagon roaa passed In front or the tavern from the north, and entered the forest, bearing down the narrow Western river, toward

Brawhill,

twenty miles

•way. The tavern was a very low structure with a veranda running the length of the front. On the veranda, Mr. Dale, his wife and daughter. Ellen, were seated, watching the preparations with evident interest.

Tbe target, a small bit of white pasteboard, was tacked against a tree over two hundred yards distant. "Now then, my lads,'' said Martin Dale, rising in his seat, "you all understand the conditions of this match. You are to shoot off-hand, best three in five, tho victor to bo crowned king of fooraer marksmen, to bear the palm for one yoar." "We understand," said a tall young borderer who was standing nearest the voranda, and at the same time casting a fnrtivo fflanco at the boautiful young girl who sat beside her mother, smiling tipon all. "The fair Ellen will crown the victor." ,,

My daughter shaM crown the victor." "Which is an incentive for us all to do our beet," returned the young woodman. "Ay, that it is," cried one of the older men. "The young follors had better look to their laurels, fur old Tom has never j'ot been beaten with tho rilie,and today's reward will nerve his arm to do its best."

A laugh from the others followed. Tom Itrnden stopped forward to a line markod in tho sand, aud leveled his long rifle.

An instant bis eye glanced wirefnlly along the barrel, aud then the piece apoko.

A youth stationed lionr the target ran to tlio tree. He indicated with his hand that th? old settler's ball had just touched tho oornoi* of the target. "Purtv good fur the fust shot," grunted one of the borderers.

One after another the settlers fired. At the end of the first round Tom Brazen was ahead. "Score one far old Tom," cried that *orthy as he ram met! his ball home for »his next shot.

Burl Bryan fired first this time—the •ouifg settler who sought the especial iavor of the tavern-girl.

With comprossod lips the young rtian raised his rifle and glanced along the barrel. Tho brown eyes of Kllen watched the tall form of the young hunter with keen expectancy.

When the rltlo cracked a loud shout •wont up from tho target-boy. "(Center shot, by hokovl" exclaimed old Tom. "Good for you, Burl,"' cried Dale •"that shot gives a score for you. sure.''

Th young hunter stoppod aside and commonctxl reloading. One after another lired, but Burl Bryan Siad won the ••core.

Paul and Tom were now even. At. the next shot Bryan sent his ball within an inch of the firsfc.

At the end another was scored for him. "By thunder!" exclaimed Tom, "the youngster shoot* to the spot for a fact. Wonaer what the deuce's got into me this morning. I never did sieb poor ahooHn In iny lifo afore." •'You can shoot pretty fair, Torn," said Burl Brvan, "but It*# useless to shoot against me. I've never yet seen tbe man that c«uld shoot with me. I intend to wear the crown."

Just aa the speaker finished anewearner appeared upon tbe scene. A voong roan, drewacd in a plain suit ofgrav cloth, a black felt hat drawn low over a smooth, rather effeminate foe. IJjrht-brown hair hung in waving nines aboal his neck. In hts hand he carried alight rifle with allver moont-

'"fle had heard the last remark of Burl Brvan, and it brought a eurl to his lip anil a quick flash to his blue eyes.

At the fourth round Bryan won an-j other score, which of course ended the snatch in his favor. .. I ••Well, I'll be bHwed!" was old Tom ftraden'te exclamation when he found that tbe young borderer had won the *lav.

Hurl Brr*n was about to step upon th» veranda »nd nweiv# Ws reward when he fn-i'id himself confroi.tcd by the, Htraitger.

"Mr. Brvan—that's your name, I be1I0T0?" "That's mv name, sir," with a severe scrutiny of the stranger's face. "I did not come in time to participate in this match," continued the stranger, "but I heard you brag afew minutes ago that you have never yet. met the man who could worst you in target shooting! Am I right?" "Youareright, stranger, witha sneer curling his lip. ... "Exactly. I beg leave to differ with you."

Burl Bryan ran his eye over the slight form of the stranger, and then burst into a laugh. I. ,t, "Burl Bryan, will you shoot with me?"

No. I won't waste powder and ball in child's play," retorted the young borderer. "Very good. You then acknowledge in the presence of these gentlemen that you dare not shoot with me," said the stranger. "Dare not!" cried Bryan, "What im-

Ser

udence. There are my shots in yontarget you can shoot if you wish to. But I doubt your being able to hit the

Aloud laugh followed this. The stranger's face flushed, his blue eyes turning from Bryan to the face of Ellen Dale, whose merry laugh soared above tbe rest. •'I will not claim any rights under the rulings of this match," said the stranger, slowly. "I was not here in time to participate, but since you have boastingly claimed superiority over every man on tbe border, I will just take a little of tho conceit out of you."

As he finished, the stranger toed the line and raised his rifle, and a sudden hush fell upon the border-men.

Tbe rifle cracked and tbe stranger's ball hit the target, cutting the pasteboard just beside the center shot made by Bryan. "Purty good," muttered old Tom Braden. "An accident," growled Bryan, not in the best of humor.

Reloading, the stranger fired again, placing his oall beside the first. A sneut of admiration arose from a dozen throats.

Bryan frowned angrily. Once more the voung stranger had his gun to his shoulder.

Bryan stood motionless, fingering his heavy piece nervously. When the result of the last shot was made known the settlers crowded around, anxious to grasp the stranger's hand.

The three shots, each one cutting the hole made by Bryan's center ball, were as near together as it was possible to send them, and all touching the center of the

a^v'

thunder, Burl, where be ye now?"

exclaimed old Tom with an aggravating laugh. "The youngster's beat ye all hoiler

And ought to wear the crown," said another. ... Burl Bryan was white and trembling, his black eyes fixed in resentment upon the stranger.

He saw that his laurels had suddenly been plucked from his brow and transferred to this stranger who was, from appearances, but a late comer on the border. To bo defeated by such a one was humiliating. Besides, Burl noted tho glow of admiration in the eye of Ellen Dale, and realized that something must be done to retrieve his fallen fortunes.

With a quick stride Burl reached the stranger's side. "See here, my conceited lady-bug, 111 just show you a trick worth two of this. You have done some pretty good shooting, but I have not yet commenced. Now, I'll stake my rifle against yours that I can beat you at a single shot, forty rods."

The stranger smiled. "I will not shoot against that dis^ tance." "Then you daren't accept my challenge." "Not too fast, Mr. Bryan," retorted the young stranger. "I can beat you easily at the distance you name. I will shoot with you, and give you abetter show." "What distance do you choose? "Sixty rods."

Burl laughed as ho looked at the stranger's small rifle, then at his own heavy one. "You'ro sold this time, stranger," he muttered. "Tom, you will paoe off the distance?" "Sartin," cried Braden.

The distance was soon measured and another target set up. "One shot only?" said the stranger. "One shot only," returned Jiryan, grimly. "My rifle against yours?" "Yes."' "And the crown, Burl what a'ye say?" chimed in Tom. "Yes," muttered tbe young borderer with clinched teeth. "Ellen Dale shall crown the victor."

A copper cent was tossed up for first shot. It fell to Bryan.

The young borderer felt a little nervous as he toed the line fend raised his rifle to Ms eye.

The stranger stood by, calm and unmoved. A moment only Burl Bryan glanced along the barrel of his rifle, then pulled the trigger.

The ball fell two inches below the tarfret. With an oath Burl Bryan stepped back and the young stranger advanced to his place.

The stranger's rifle cracked and the ball hit the target a little below the center.

Then such a shout went up as made tho aisles of the old forest ringagainand again, old Tom, in his excitement, mounting the veranda and swinging hi9 coon-ekin cap and screaming hallelujah at the top of his voice.

CHAPTER II. THB CHAIXKJfOB.

"You have won tbe rifle," said Burl Bryan, advancing and extending his piece toward the stranger. "Keep your gun, Mr. Bryan,. stranger returned. "I merely wished to prove to you that one man at least was yoar superior with the rifle. I think I have done so to your satisfaction.

Bryan oom pressed his lipa and bent forward, a fierce flame burning in his

*^"You will give up the crown also he said in a low, concentrated tone. Bv this time Ellen Dale bad approached tbe front veranda, holding in her white, shapely hands a floral crown, woven from tbe wild wood flowers toy her own fingers, and" held it ready for the victor's brow, her fair young face tinted with a faint roee-color, her brown eyes smiling dowu into tbe face of the victorious marksman. ••To the victor belong the spoils. Come forward, yonng man, and receive your reward." cried Martin Dale, nodding his bead teward the youth, even while the words of Burl Bryan rang in his ears.

Without replying to tbe yonng bor­

derer, the stranger advanced and knelt at the feet of Ellen Bale. '•Your name, sir?" questioned Dale. "Vancleave, Anson Vancleave." "Anson Vancleave, I now crown yon prince of marksmen. You have shown yourself worthy to wear this token as a mark of the respect and admiration we hold for your wonderful achievement today."

Clear and soft, like the tinkling of faraway bells, the voice of Ellen Dale fell on the ears of the kneeling man.

As the floral crown fell above his white brow, the youth arose, seized one of tbe maiden's hands and pressed it to his lips. "I accept the crown in the spirit in which it is tendered," he said quickly. "In these flowers 1 see tbe symbol of purity and innocence, which shall And me ever a champion and defender.

Brown eyes ana blue met for an instant. The blue eyas under t&e crown

flowed

with a sudden fire, while the

rown eyes drooped and seemed to shrink back with fear and trembling. Burl Bryan stood clutching his rifle, his brow black as a thundercloud.

The whole scene was one calculated to rouse all the evil passions of his nature but for the coming of this impudent stranger he would have been the recipient of all this attention.

His ignominious defeat was galling. "You will please except the hospitalities of my house for the day, Mr. Vancleve," said Mr. Dale at this stage in the proceedings.

The youth was not backward in accepting this invitation, and entered the tavern sitting room, accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. Dale.

Ellen remained for a minute on the veranda. Burl Bryan approached. "Are you not coming in, Burl?" she said quickly. "Where he is, no." growled the young borderer.

Ellen's brown eyes opened wide with surprise. "You are out of temper, I fear," she said. "You were fairly beaten, Burl, and ought to accept the situation gracefully. Come in. Mr. Vancleve seems to be a gentleman "A hero in your eyes, Ellen," sneered Bryan, angrily. "He's a sneaking adventurer, and won that last shot by mere accident. I'll pick his pin-feathers before ho's many hours older, see if I don't." "Hush, Burl. He was very magnanimous in refusing your rifle when he had fairly won it." "But quick to accept tbe crown from you, Ellen. I understand his tricks to a dot. I'll prove him a coward and a sneak before the day is gone, or my name is not Burl Bryan," and the borderer slapped the breech of his heavy rifle by way of emphasis as he uttered these words. "Come, Burl, it's your treat now," cried old Tom. "The boys are all dryer'n codfish, and've got tohev somethin'."

The maiden turned away as the settlers poured into the bar-room, where Martin Dale kept a select lot of liquors all drawn from one source.

Mr. Dale entered the bar-room soon after. "It's Burl's treat to-day," said Tom. "I'll take a leetle old rye in mine, boss."

One after another of the settlers called for liquor, and soon glasses wore jingling, toasts uttered and drank with the utmost good feeling.

When they were all through, one glass remained on tho bar un tag ted. "See here, Burl," cried one of the settlers, "you haven't tasted yours." "1 don't intend to either.'' "Eh, how's that, boy?" grunted old Tom Braden. "I'm not in the mood for drink today." "A leetle sore I see," laughed Tom. "Say, Mart, s'pose you call that young shootist in for a nip. He won't refuse, I'm sure.''

Tho tavern keeper retired, soon returning with the victor of the morning's target practice.

Burl withdrew to one corner of tbe room and ieaned on his rifle, his brows contracted into a frown. "It's Burl's treat, Vancleve," said Tom, "and so we thought you'd like a nip of Mart's best." "Many thanks, my friends, but I prefer not to drink," returned the youth, pleasantly. "What, ye ain't a temperance feller, be ye "I am inclined that way," returned Vancleve.

Just then Burl Bryan crossed the floor and confronted the stranger. "Look here, Anson Vancleve," cried Burl, his voice trembling with suppressed passion, "you have beat me shooting, you shall not refuse to drink at my cxpense."

Reaching forth, the bordorer grasped tbe glass of whisky and held iC toward the youth. "±hank you, Mr. Bryan, but I do not care to drink." "You re:use to drink at my expense after what has happened "I must refuse. I'm not a drinking man." "Just this once." "No." "Then, by the powers! will you tight me?" cried Burl, dashing the glass to the floor and thrusting his dark face forwark, a fiendish in his black eyes.

A sudden hush fell upon the band of settlers as they saw the course matters were talcing*

Anson Vancleve started back a step and regarded the speaker in surprise. "Certainly not, Burl Bryan. I have nothing to fight you for. I never met vou until to-day 1 have no quarrel with you." "I have with you, though," sneered the voung borderer. Y«n have got tho best"of me at target shooting dare you face me at twenty yards at the muzzle of the rifle "Nonsense, Mr. Bryan." "There's no nonsense about it." "It would be murder." "Then you are afraid of the trial," with a jeering laugh. "Boys, I brand this white livered plug a coward and a sneak."

Burl straightened up as be spoke, and gazed around upon the assembled settlers as mach aa to stay: "You see how it is. I've cornered him

n"The face of the stranger paled under tbe taunting words of the insolent borderer. "Stop this, Burl. Yon musn't oome down too heavy on the feller," cried Tom Braden. "He wasted ye fa'r and sqnar', and yon let up on him now." "Yes, I'll let op on the sneak-—" "Stop!" commanded Anson Vancleve. ••This lots gone far enough." "Eh?" '••This baa gone far enough." "For vour good it has," sneered Bryan. "Burf Bryan, this is mad new on yonr part,** said Vancleve, coolly. "At twenty yards I could kill you fisily. I am abetter shot than you. I am year master with the rifle. I do not chooee to commit a murder."

Tbe face of Bryan grew livid with

^"witb'a gulp he swallowed a lamp in his throat and then spoke agafn: "You're mighty feared of hurting me,

HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL

yon white livered sneak. To make the thing fur, I'll make yon another offer. If you don'tacceptit I'll thrash ye anyhow." "Very well, proceed." "We will fight at twenty yards, one rifle to be loaded with ball, the other only with powder. Dare you stand np to that, my covey?"

Again Burl leerqd insolently into Vancleve's face. The stranger compressed his lips and grew pale.

It was a murderous method of settling a difficulty, one that his soul abhorred, but on the border, to refuse satisfaction, would be to lose caste at once.

After a minute's reflection the youth turned toward the settlers. "Have I a friend here he exclaimed, slowly. "I'm vour friend, youngster," cried old Tom^quickly pressing to the side of Vancleve, his wrinkled face aglow with feeling. "Mr. Bryan, your proposition is one both revolting and monstrous, yet under the circumstances I will accept," said Vancleve in low, even tones, unmarked by the slightest quiver.

Then a loud murmur of excitement ran through tbe crowd. The laugh and jest were huBhed, and a solemn terror pervaded every voice. "I will name Sam Hoffas my second," said Bryan, somewhat less Insolently than before. "Very well. Tom here will settle all preliminaries with him," returned Vancleve. "When will you meet?" questioaed Hoff. "I will come around at this hour tomorrow "No you don't, my gentle dove," sneered Bryan. "You can't come that over me. If you're 'feard to meet me, say so, but don't try to crawl out in that way. If we meet at all it shall be this very hour. I don't propose to give you a chance to crawl out."

The cheek of Vauulevs flushed slightly at this. "Very well," he said, "I named tomorrow hoping that a few hours reflection would convince my insolent friend of the wickedness of this mode of rodressiag his fancied grievances. Since you will have it so, I will meet you now and have the affair over quickly. I have suffered your insolence long enough, Burl Bryan."

Martin Dale had listened without a word thus far. He now stepped in and remonstrated with the young borderer, telling him that he was wild and unreasonable, and ought to accept his defeat like a man.

Burl, however, refused to listen. ".I'll have his heart's blood)" he hissed. "I don't ask any of your advice, Mart Dale. I know my business I guess."

Again the tavern keeper remonstrated, but to no purpose. Selecting two rifles of like pattern, the four men interested left the tavern and adjourned to the woeds.

A spot was found in a little glade about half a mile from the tavern. The

fall,

uns were carefully loaded, one^ with tbe other only with powder. A copper cent was tossed for choice of weapous, and Bryan won.

With trembling fingers he clutched one of the rifles and sought his place under a beech tree twenty paces from another tree selected for the other party.

CHAPTER III. TKK DUEL.

Anson Vancleve took the remaining rifle and walked to the place assigned him. He was pale, yet calm and unruffled, not a muscle trembling. "The youngster's got tho sand, by thunder 1" muttered old Tom, as he noted the cool demeanor of his principal.

Burl was far less calm than his antagonist. He had expected to frighten the slight stranger, to unnerve his hand, but in this he had completely failed, and now tho duel must go on. A horrible sense of the uncertainty of the case weighed

down

the spirits of the borderer. If his gun was the one unloaded, then his doom was

Bealed,

for at twenty paces the

stranger could not fail to pierce his heart. "Gentlemen, be yer roady questioned old Tom. "Ready," from both combatants "You will fire at the drop of the hat," said Braden, removing his coon-skin cap and holding it aloft by tho coon's tail.

Both rifles fell to a horizontal aim at tbe same instant. It seemed an age to both men ere the cap fell.

The cap dropped, however, and a rifle cracked bharply on the morning air. Only one had tired—Burl Bryan.

He had covered the strangers heart and pulled at the signal. Anson Vancleve stood unmoved in his tracks.

The borderer held the losing hand. No ball sped from the borderers unerring ritle, and he stood now at the mercy of his enemy.

The situation was terrible. The face of Burl Bryan grtw ashen in its sickly pallor. "Lost!" he cried, with a moan of horror, trombling throughout his stout form. "Why in thunder don you shoot, youngster? You've got'im now where the bar's short.''

Vancleve still held his rifle leveled, his keen blue eye glancing along the barrel. "Shoot, for Heaven'8 sake, shoot! and end this suspense,' cried Bryan, on whose ashen face great drops of sweat stood like immense beads.

With a quick movement Anson Vancleve raised the muzzle of his rifle and fired into the air.

A crv of indignation burst from the Hps of ~Tom Braden. "I came not hereto commit a murder, said the youth quickly. I have no quarrel with Mr. Bryan. I hope now be is satisfied that I wish to be bis friend.' "He would a shot you ef he stood in your tracks!" cried Tom. indignantly. ''He is mad to-day. To-morrow be will

regret

this quarrel," returned Vau-

clev?, standing tbe empty rifle against tbelree behind him. Now that all danger was over, Bryan walked forward and confronted tbe little group. "Anson Vancleve," be said,a pent-up hatred gleaming in bis eyes, "I can be your friend only on one condition. .. "Name it." "You most leave the country.

A smile touched tbe effiminate faee of tbe vontb addressed. ,, "You are very exacting, Mr. Bryan, he said. "My right here is as good as yours. I allow no man to dictate to me where my rights are concerned. ••Then von refuse to got with a fierce imprecation. "Of course I do." "Then look to yourself. This region ain't big enough to hold us two. Onell have to go under and it won't oe Burl Bryan," retorted tbe borderer with a dark scowl. .. "Yon fail to appreciate my kindness to yon just now, Mr. Bryan," aald Vancleve. "Understand one thing, however, I shall not trifle with yon in tbe faton*. Any further insolence an vour part will be met with the punishment it deserves."

Bnrl clinched his hands and uttered an oath, not lond but deep. It seemed that he was on the point of springing upon tho youth who nad excited his ire, but the heavy hand of Tom Braden fell on his arm and restrained the contemplated movement. "Burl, you're a sneaking coward, cried the old settler, angrily, "My young friend has spared your worthless life wnen it was his by all the rules of the duello. Ef you harm a hair of Anson Vancleve'8 head you make an enemy of me, remember that." "So you go back on me, Tom Braden, muttered the young borderer, sngrily. "You take up for a stranger who may be a miserable cut-throat tor all we know. It ain't fa'r, Tom, but I won't be run over by either you or him. Come, Sam, let's get of this. I want to talk with you a bit."

The borderer took the arm of his second, and tbe two walked away into the depths of the wood. "A precious pair o' scoundrels," muttered Tom, as the two men disappeared. "Rather ill-natured, to be sure," returned Vancleve. "For the life of me I can't understand Burl Bryan's bitterness." "Can't ye?" "No."

Old Tom laughed significantly. "I can explain the hull thing youngster. It's all on account of the girl." "How?" "On account of Ellen Dale," returned Braden. "Burl's dead-set after the tavern-keeper's daughter." "But why should ne feel such enmity to-ward me 1 never met Miss Dale until this morning." "No, but that's no sign ye won't meet her to-morrer and the day after, and so on to the end of the chapter. Ellen Dales a mighty smart gal, and Burl's jealous. He hates you for defeating him to-day in her presence. You're

food-lookin',

a boss Bhot, and Burl

nows you can git the inside track if you only try for it don't ye see?" "Pretty good logic, old man," returned Vancleve, laughing, "but I think you flatter me beyond my deserts. Miss Dale is pretty, and I am resolved to see more of her, Buil Bryan to the contrary, notwithstanding." "Exactly," muttered Tom, "but you must keep yer eye out fur danger. Burl's ugly's pizen when he's riled, and he hates ye wuss death." "I'll look out for him, never fear," laughed Vancleve. "Shall we return to tbe tavern now, Tom?" "I don't care ef I do, youngster."

Taking each a rifle the two men returned to Dale's taverfl. On the voranda they were met by a crowd of anxious settlers, Mr. Dale at thoir head. "Did the youngster fix him?" questioned one of the Bettlers, eagerly. "No. gentlemen," returned Vancleve, "the whole affair ended without bloodshed, for which I am thankful."

The youth and Mr. Dale entered the sitting-room, leaving old Tom to explain the affair to tho settlers outside.

At tho door Dale and his friends were met by two anxious faces. Ellon and her mother had learned of the contemplated duel but a few minutes before, and as a consequence they were greatly concerned for the outcome.

A relieved look touched the fair face of Ellen as Anson Vancleve appeared behind her father. "Thank Heaven there was no blood spilled," murmured the maiden after Vancleve had explained the result of tho duel. "The quarrel was all on Burl Bryan side," said Vancleve. "I bad no intention of shedding his blood."

Yet he would have murdered you had the chance offered!" said Ellen, with a shudder. "Perhaps. He is mad to-day over his defeat. To-morrow he will feel ashamed ot his actions and acknowledge himself in the wrong."

The old tavern-keeper shook his head. "You do not know Burl Bryan," he said. "He never forgets." "What do you think," said Vancleve, laughing "he had the impudence to order me to leave the country at once." "Indeed," returned Dale. "Burl is verv presuming."

Yes. I cannot understand why he should take his defeat so hardly." Mr. Dale glanced at his daughter.

Her cheeks grew crimson. The young stranger noticed the incident aud formed his own conclusions.

Tbe settlers dispersed after a time, old Tom Braden alone remaining. After dinner Tom called Vancleve aside. "Youngste',you seem to be a stranger in those parts. Ef you're willin' I'd like tor know whar ye come from aud how long you'll stay. I'm curious to larn somethin' about yo, coz you hev jist crawled right inter my 'fectlons at a jump."

Vancleve smiled at tbe curiosity of tbe old settler. He was not in the least offended, how-

eVTom

had proved himself his friend

under trying cii"cilni8Uncen. and the youth found his heart warming toward the old man. "I am 'rom Now York," said Vancleve. "New York City?" "Yes." "Well,

I

swow 1" ejaculated Tom.

"What is there strange in that, my friend?" "What beates me, youngster, is your ahootin' qualities. How in nater ye larn to handle the rifle to sicb perfection. City chaps ain't apt ter knock tho socks off old hunter like you did to-day."^

Again Vaucleve smiled, "The city has not been my home always," bfc returned. I spent two years in California, where

I

ywi

learned to shoot a

little. I ve lived in tbe mines and roMhed it with the roughest fought Indians and desperadoes. I'm not easy excited, and to tell the truth, I never know but one man who was iny superior with the lifle." "I wont dispute yoar word tbar, youngster. You beat the best of 'em in these parts." "Burl Bryan's a good shot." "Pretty good, but nowhere long side of you. It did me good ter see it to him to-day," chuckled tho old settler. "By tbe wpy. Anson, my cabin isn't mor a two miles from here, north, on this road. Ef ye stay long Jist give me a call, will ye "Certainly."

Tbe two men remained fn conversation for half an hour, when tbey separated, old Tom shouldering his nfls, harrying sway homeward, Vancleve walking back to tbe hoase.

On tbe veranda he sat down and communed with his own thoughts. "8o this is the home of Ellen Me, of whom I have beard so much. Wonder what the old man will say when I give him Dick's letter. Dick won't be long coming here after be arrives in New York. He was to sail in a month when I left tbe Golden State. If lock he will be here inside of that time. ••Ellen is a beauty, and no mistake. Wonder if sbe will recognise old Dick, who hfi* been mora than a father to m© during tbe past two years. Who knows what may nappen daring tbe next few

ISf*"

v^'V-

days?" I'll improve my time before Dick oomes, for after that The young man's reflections were suddenly interrupted by the sudden appearanoe of Martin Dale.

14

CHAPTER III. TROUB1.K BRKW1NH.

The tavern-keeper drew a chair beside Vancleve and sat down, drawing a pipe from his pocket. "Do you smoke, Mr. Vancleve?" "Occasionally," returned tho youth.

Thrusting a hand into an inner pocket, the young man drew forth an elegant morocco cigar-case filled with fragrant rolls. "Try one of these, Mr. Dale."

The old man took a cigar, returning the pipe to his pocket. Taking one for himself, Arancleve was soon puffing clouds of blue smoke up to the ceiling. "We don't get cigars of this quality out in this region very often, Mr. Vancleve." "No. I brought the8e from NeW ork with mo." "Ah, you are from New York?" "Yesffrom California first, however." "Bless me! but you've traveled somefor one so young.'"'

The youth sniiled at the old settlers earnestness. "Some people have circumnavigated the globe at my age," said Vancleve. "Have you any relatives in the Golden State, Mr. Dale?" "None."

Vancleve puffed vigorously and in silence for some time. "You know Dick Harcraft, I think," said the youth, suddenly. "JlicJiard Harcraft

Martin Dale sprang to his feet, and faced the speaker. "The same," returned Vaucleve, slow|y.

The

tavorn-keepersank

back into his

seat as suddenly as he had risen. Vancleve waited for him to speak again.

Martin Dale chewed the end of his cigar fiercely, a strange glow in his gray eyes. "Richard Harcraft," murmured Dale, after a minute of silence. ••Yes, I knew him long years ago. I have heard nothing from him in along tiino. Let me see.'

The old man fell to musing. "Yes, the last letter I got from Dick was six years ago last Fall, just after 1 removed here. I answered that letter, but never beard from him again. HA must be dead, I think." "He was alive and well a few months ago," said Vancleve. "Is it possible? I wonder why he did not write? So you knew Richard Harcraft. Was he doing well?"

He was prospering—in fact lie struck it rich not more than a year ago, and is now a very wealthy man," returned Vancleve. "I am tbe bearer of a letter from him to his old friend, Martin Dale."

As the youug man spoke ho drew a yellow envelope from his pocket and laid it on the tavern-keeper's knee.

Dale took the letter and hastily tore it open, and this is what he read: SILVEIT GUI/CH, Col., Nov. 12,18—. "Mabtin Dalk: i, "Dear Friend—I send this letter by my young friend, Anson Vancleve, believing that it will reach you quicker than by post. I havo been unusually lucky during the past year. My past ill-fortune has prevented my keeping up our correspondence, but now that my fortunes are improving, I feel justified in leaving ray business and coming back to tho land of my birth. Yes, strange as it may seem, I am coming back to see you once more. My little Ellen must be a woman grown, now. It seems like a dream, all those years of trouble and darkness. Ellen does not remember her father, of course, but if she is only like her mother sho will not, refuse to welcome me all the same. 1 have neither time nor desire to write more now. Will explain more fully my plan of future action when I arrive. If you are still living in the Western home you occupied when last I heard from you, Anson will have no troublein lind-^ ing vou. I may conclude to reliove you' of Ellen and take her with me on my return. We will settle this when I see yon. I expect to start from San Francisco in about four weeks. "Yours, in Friendship, Riohahd."

A visible paleness touched the face of the old tavern-keeper as ho read the lotter*

When he had finished reading, he foldedit with trembling fingers and thrust it into his pocket. "So Richard is coming back once more," muttered Dale, gloomily.

The thought of losing the light and joy of the household, thesweet-tempered Ellen who had been a daughter to him ever since sbe was a

weo

He knew

babe, was far from

pleasant. Vancleve noticed the gloom that had settled upon the face of his host, and wondered at its cause.

nothingof

the contents

of

tbe

letter, although Richard Harcraft had spoken to him

of

Ellen as tbe daughter

he had left behind him in his Eastern home. Martin Dale rose to his feet and paced up and down on tbe veranda, his brow clouded, a strange sadness brooding in bis gray eyes. "Was there ill news in tho letter, Mr. Dale?" questioned Vancleve, after a

"HI news, indeed," muttered tho tav-ern-keeper, turning suddenly on his heel and entering the house.

He stood confronting his wife and Ellen. "What is it, father?"

Tho young girl was quick to detect anything that troubled her father. For answer the old man laid Richard Harcraft's letter in his# daughter's hand.

Sbe read it through slowly. It was indeed a pale face that was raised to meet her foster-parent's gaze at the

eiMr.

Dale had read the letter in com­

pany with Ellen. "•The trouble I have so long dreaded is oome at last," said Dale, with something like a groan. "Why need

there

beany trouble, fath­

er?" Ellen advanced and laid both hands on his shoulders, her face upturned to meet

"SCT-lll go with your fither, El-

]QQ

"With my father? Yes, bat not with 'Richard Harcraft." "Richard Harcraft is yoar father, Ellen." __ ••I know no father but yon. Yon have been more than a father to me ever since I can remember. Harcraft has done nothing to win mylove. I know him not. Think you I will desert ray old home and go with this stranger? Never!"

Tears stood in the eyes of tbe old settier as Ellen swords fell on bis ears. ••Spoken like my own noble girl," be criedTwlnding bis long arms caressingly aboat tbe slight, girlish form. Harcraft has no claim on your affection, my child, yet he was your mothers husband, and I once believed him an honorable, high-minded man." on ScttnfJi Pogt.