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About The Henry County weekly. (McDonough, GA.) 18??-1934 | View Entire Issue (June 28, 1912)
{Mr to 'fSgIpPODIGAL fffl JUDGE #»w»r) K&y Ma johan Kester. W%?*fiuLiMiS'U /Uasr/pir/ays By D. Mel vul B. <- *f y T'"**' I /j**> r*eOoee3 Co**a*nr "same rrere,** responaea Taney. Murrell pulled out a roll of .bills, one of which he tossed on the bar. Then after a moment’s hesitation he de tached a second bill from the roll and turned to Hannibal. “Here, youngster—a present for you,” he said good-naturedly. Hanni bal, embarrassed by the unexpected gift, edged to his Uncle Bob’s side. “Thank you, sir,” said the boy? “Let's have another drink,” sug gested Murrell. Presently Hannibal stole out into the yard. He still held the bill in his hand, for he did not quite know r how to dispose of his great wealth. After debating this matter for a moment he knotted it carefully in one corner of his handkerchief. In the tavern the three men were drinking—Murrell with the idea that the more Yancy came under the in fluence of Slosson’s corn whisky the easier his speculation would be man aged. Mr. Yancy on his part believed that if Murrell went to bed reason ably drunk he would sleep late and give him the opportunity he coveted, to quit the tavern unobserved at break of day. “When yo’ get to feelin’ like sleep, young boss, Mas’r Slosson he says 1 show yo’ to yo’ chamber.” It wae Slosson's boy Eph. “Yes, you can show me my cham ber,” Hannibal said. Eph secured a tin candle-stick with a half-burnt candle in it and led the way into the passage back of the bar. They mounted a flight of stairs and passed down a narrow hall. This brought them to the back of the building, and Eph pushed open the door on his right. “This heah’s yo’ chamber,” he said, and preceding his companion in to the room, placed the candle on a chair. The moon was rising and Hannibal went to the open window and glanced out. For a moment he considered the night, not unaffected by its beauty, then, turning from the window, he moved his bundle and rifle to the foot of the bed, where they would be out of his way, kicked off his trousers, blew out the candle and lay down. Yancy had become more and more convinced as the evening passed that Murrell was bent on getting him drunk, and suspicion mounted darkly to his brain. “Hare a drink with me!” cried Slos- Bon, giving way to drunken laughter. 'The captain’s dropped out, and 1 'low it’s about time to’ these here festivities to come to an end. I’m thinking some of going to bed my self,” said Yancy. He kept his eyes fixed on Murrell. He realized that if the latter could prevent it he was not to leave the bar. He never shift ed his glance from Murrell’s face. Scowling now, the captain’s eyes blazed back their challenge as he thrust his right hand under his coat. “Fair play—l don’t know who you are, but I know what you want!” said Yancy, the light in his frank gray eyes deepening. Murrell laughed and took a forward step. At the same mo ment Slosson snatched up a heavy club from the back of the bar and dealt Yancy a murderous blow. A single startled cry escaped the Scratch Hiller; he struck out wildly as he lurched toward Murrell, who drew his knife and drove it into his shoulder. Yancy dropped heavily to the floor. How long the boy slept he never knew, but he awoke with a start and a confused sense of things. It was evidently very late, probably long after midnight —but where was his Uncle Bob? He sank back on his pillow- intent and listening. A chilling terror that gripped him fast and would not let him go, mounted to his brain. Where w-as his Uncle Bob? Why didn't he come to bed? Memories of idle tales of men foully dealt with in these lonely taverns flashed through his mind. He' slid from the bed, and for a long moment stood cold and shaking, his every sense on the alert. With infinite caution he got into his trous ers and again paused to listen, since be feared his least movement might betray him. Next he secured his pack, and was ready for flight. Encumbered by his belongings, but with no mind to sacrifice them, he Stuped out upon the shed aud made his way down me svtrnt or tne roor to the eaves. He tossed his bundle to the ground and going down on his knees lowered his rifle, letting the muzzle fall lightly against the side of the shed as it left his hand, then he lay flat on his stomach and, feet first, wriggled out into space. When he could no longer preserve his balance, he gave himself a shove away from the eaves and dropped clear of the building. As he recovered himself he was sure he heard a door open and close, and threw himself prone on the ground, where the black shadow cast by the tavern hid him. At the same moment two dark figures came from about a corner of the building. He could just distinguish that they car ried some heavy burden between them and that they staggered as they moved. They passed out of sight, and breathless and palsied, Hannibal crept about a corner of the tavern. He must be sure! Presently he heard a distant sound —a splash—surely it was a splash— A little later the men came up the lane, to disappear in the direction of the tavern. Hannibal peered after them. His very terrors, while they wrenched and tortured him, gave him a desperate kind of courage. As the gloom hid the two men, he started forward again. He reached the end of the cornfield, climbed a fence, and entered a deadening of timber. In the long wet grass he found where the men had dragged their burden. He reached down and swept has hand to and fro —once —twice —the third time his little palm came away red and discolored. There was the first pale premoni tion of dawn in the sky, and as he harried on the light grew, and the black trunks of trees detached them selves from t.be vv{ut£ mist ..that filled the wooTs ana wmcTi the dawn made visible. There was light enough for him to see that he was following the trail left by the men. He emerged upon the bank of the Elk river, white like the woods with its ghostly night sweat. The dull beat of the child’s heart quickened as he gazed out on the swift current that was hurrying on with its dreadful secret. Then the full comprehension of his loss seemed to overwhelm him and he was utterly desolate. Sobs shook him, and he dropped on his knees, holding fast to the stock of his rifle. “Uncle Bob —Uncle Bob, come back! Can’t you come back!” he wailed miserably. Presently he stag gered to his feet. As he glanced about, he saw almost at his feet a dug-out, made from a single poplar log. It was secured to an overhang ing branch by a length of a wild grape-vine. With one last fearful look off across the deadening in the direc tion of the tavern, he crept down to the water’s edge and entered the canoe. In a moment, he had it free from its lashing and the rude craft was bumping along the bank in spite of his best efforts with the paddle. Then a favoring current caught it and swept it out toward the center of the stream. CHAPTER VII. On the River. Betty stood under a dripping um brella in the midst of a dow-npour. Just arrived by the four-horse coach that plied regularly between Wash ington and Georgetown, she had found the long board platform beside the canal crowded w-ith her fellow passengers. Suddenly she became aware of a tall, familiar figure mov ing through the crowd. It was Bruce Carrington. At the same moment he saw her, and with a casual air that quite deceived her, approached. “You’re leaving tonight?” he asked. “Yes —isn’t it miserable the way it rains? And w r hy are they so slow 7 why don’t they hurry with that boat?” “It’s in the last lock now 7 ,” ex plained Carrington, and gathering up Betty’s hand luggage, he helped her aboard. By the time they 7 had reached Wheeling, Betty had quite parted with whatever superficial prejudice she might have had concerning river-men. This particular one was evidently a very nice river-man, an exception to bis kind. He made choice of the Bteamer on whish slis should continue her journey, and thoughtfully chose The Naiad—a slow boat. “I haven’t a thing to offer her—this is plain madness of miue!” he kept telling himself, and then the expres sion of his face would become grim and determined. No more or the river for him—he’d get hold of some land and go to raising cotton; that was the way money was made. Slow as The Naiad was, the days passed much too swiftly for him. When Memphis was reached their friendly intercourse would come to an end. There would be her brother, of whom she had occasionally spoken— he would be pretty certain to have the ideas of his class. The days, like any other days, dwin dled. The end of it all was close at hand. Another twenty-four hours and Carrington reflected there would only be good-by to say. “We will reach New Madrid to night,” he told her. They were watching the river, under a flood of yellow moonlight. Carrington, with his back against a stanchion, watched her discontented ly. “You’ll be mighty glad t* have this over with, Miss Malroy—” he said at length, with a comprehensive sweep toward the river. “Yes —shan’t you?” and she opened her eyes questioningly. “No,” said Carrington with a short laugh, drawing a chair near hers and sitting down. Betty, in surprise, gave him a quick look, and then as quickly glanced away from what she encountered in his eyes. As she looked, suddenly pale points of light appeared on a dis tant headland. "Is that New Madrid—Oh, is it, Mr. Carrington?” she cried eagerly. “1 reckon so,” but he did not alter his position. “But you’re not looking!” “Yes, I am—l’m looking at you. I reckon you’ll think me crazy, Miss Malroy—presumptuous and all that — but I wish Memphis could be wiped off the map, and that we could go on like this for ever!” “You mustn’t talk so —I am nothing to you—” “Yes, you are. You’re everything to me,” said Carrington doggedly. ! “You shall love me —” She was pow i erless in his embrace. She felt his j breath on her cheek, then he kissed her. Suddenly his arms fell at his 1 side; his face was white. "I was a brute to do that —Betty, forgive me! I am sorry—no, I can’t be sorry!” They were alongside the New Mad rid wharf now, and a certain young man w’ho had been impatiently watch ! ing The Naiad’s lights ever since they became visible crossed the gang-plank with a bound. ! “Betty—why in the name of good ness did you ever choose this tub?” said the new-comer, i “Charley!” Carrington stepped hack. This must be the brother who had come up the river from Memphis to meet her —but her brother’s name was Tom! He looked this stranger—this Charley —over with a hostile eye. offended by his gooff looks, his Cdnndent manner, in which he thought he detected an air of ownership, as if —certainly he was holding her hands longer than was necessary. An instant later, when Betty, remembering, turned to speak to him, his place by the rail was de serted. (Continued Next We?k.) Merchants Close for the Fourth. We the undersigned mercants will be closed next Thursday, July 4th 1912. T. A. Sloan & Co. H. L. Carmichael. Copeland Turner Merc. Co. McDonough Trading Co. D. P. Cook Co. McConnell-Manley Co. - W. D. Knight. McDonough Drug Co. E. Goodwin. T. M. Bright. D. T. Carmichael. Asa Oglesby Co. B. B. Carmichael & Son. The Bank of Henry County First National Bank. Horton Drug Co. Miss Blanche Wentzell. Farmer’s & Merchant’s Bank. Green Tarpley Co. : ** Planter’s Warehouse & Lumber Co. TOLLESON & TURNER. McDonough, Georgia. FUNERAL DIRECTORS ANI) * 3 ; ;• f | LICENSED EMBALMER DAtTHONBW. NIGHT UIIOM- l‘>i. > f All calls answered promptly day or night i) - * 'V 7 ' '*• •v.v^iife3SWg[ All embalming carefully done and according to best v * ' ; ; methods. • !*. \ Careful and polite attention given all funerals entrusted ; . \ :•"( Our line of Caskets, Robes, Etc. are unequaled. , j Can furnish the best Metal, Brick or Cement Vaults' MISSES RUTH AND ESTHER CARMICHAEL ENTERTAIN. Little Misses Ruth and Esther Carmichael entertained for their cousin, Miss Trelle Marion Carmi chael, of Atlanta, last Thursday afternoon. All had a most pleasant time playing games. Ice cream and cake were serv ed late in the afternoon. Bethany Locals. Once again the children, grand children and friends of Mrs. Mary Bowden gathered at her home or. Saturday and enjoyed her fourth reunion. The chief features oi the day were conversation and music. It was an occasion of much pleasure and a day long t be remembered by every one pres ent. Bridges Time and Space IT WAS A QUESTION of life or death end the victim’s life hung by a slender thread. A difficult operation was necessary. To be suc cessful the operation must be performed at once. The services of a specialist were required, but he was in a distant city. The specialist was reached over the Long Distance Bell Telephone, the case described and the operation arranged for. The sufferer’s life was saved through the ability of the Universal Bell Telephone Service to bridge time and space. ®By the way, have you a Bell Telephone? SOUTHERN BELL TELEPHONE AND TELEGRAPH COMPANY HOWARD CARMICHAEL LEADING UNDERTAKER. Complete line of Cfc-sketsall styles and prior*. Careful and polite attention given all funeral* *n fro sted to me. Embalming done according to latest and most im proved methods. Newest and most ap to date equipment. Calls answered promptly day and night. Phones 28 and 80. HcDonough Ga. MissjLizzie Graig entertained a iv v friends at her home Saturday evening in honor of Ivw cousins, Miss Lilh Mayo, of Atlanta, Mr Willie Hammond, of East Point, Mr. James Bowden, of McDon ough, and Miss Vesper Farrar, of near Locust Grove. Mr. and Mrs. Grady Maddox and iiitie daughter, Eff:e, spent Satur dny and Sunday with Mr- J. T. Bowden and attended the Bowden family reunion. Master Murray Copeland is on a visit to his Aunt, Mrs. Murray, in Grili in. Mr. Will Walker has gone to T.-ceoa, where he has charge of a i mature business. His many i .ends here wish him every suc e- ss. Mr. Raymond Cathy, of Atlanta, spent the week-end with home folk.
