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iYOL. XVIII.
ATLANTA. GA.. TUESDAY MORNING FEBRUARY 15, 1887
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jOuR Story Corner
THE BOSS OF BARANGAR00.
By A. Werner.
“it can't bo—no, it couldn't bo—for him to
die!' 1
Be eras til alone in the hut. Ho sat on a pack
ing case staring into the fire, his elbows ou his
Itnccs and his head on his hands, talking to
himself, as solitary men will. Thcro was a
gloomy, helpless perplexity in his look, as ho
thrust the burning brands together with the toe
ef his boot, and muttered over and over again:
*‘Bost a-dyin’! no, no!’’
A stray stock rider had passed by that after-
moon. on his way to a distant station, and
brought the news from Barringsroo.
It was Murdoch, of Barangaroo—Lennox
Murdoch, who lay dying, slowly dying in tor
ture, helplessly crushed and mangled by a fall
ing tree, as he was overseeing somo timber in
thebntb. Thomsnwho60gnyfearlcssncsswas
the wonder'of the colony; who had rid,’.
1:uneed tiiue after time through the verj
of death; the reckless, wayward, ftntaatic soul,
to whom mortal danger was is a familiar friend,
whom every one loved and laughed at; so full
of life, and Joy In life. Why, the very thought
of Ms dying wot impossible and incongruous;
at least It seemed m if tho only fitting close to
such a career would bo a swift, suddeu stroke;
to be suatebed away In a moment, with tbe
laughing light still in his eyes, aud the last
snatch of a song still lingering on hia lip. It
seemed unnatural, horrible, for Lennox Mar-
Booh, of all men, to be lying on bis bsck in tbe
darkened room, with closed eyes, and drawn,
white lips. So thought his overseer, who had
-carried him up stairs in his arms, and laid him
tenderly down on the bed he would never leave
again; feeling all the time, grave, quiet Scots
man as he was, as If his own heart would break.
not perhaps put
hung gloomily
nt through with
It into words—the men who
their work, silently; or speaking in hushed
voices to each other. There might have been
better men; there certainly worn man;
more Judicious and with hotter regu
minds; whereas, the censorious might have
said that Lennox Murdoch’s mind was net reg-
olaird at all; but there was not a shepherd, or
but keeper, or hand of any aort on the station
that would not have given anything to “have
Murdoch round again in a good tesrin’tem-
nor,’’ as one of them said. Mo, they would never
bear hia wrathftil harangues or his reckless
“'chaff” again.
Aud this man who now sat over the fire, this
blaek-beardod, half-savage, heathen
man, had heard the news with stolid
apathy, und scarcely said a word. Perhaps the
idea took a long time to roach that slow moving
brain of his. After the stranger had gono he
Slung tho hilly and set tho tea to boil, and got
all things ready at usual for his mates when
they should return; and then he settled down
to bis brood’
broken woi
He was not a man of many ideas: that waa
apparent at the first glance. Probably he had
not atarted in life with an exceasivo amount,
and bis experience as an ordinary seaman on
board various small merchant vessels, and later
as a convict in Sydney, had not tendod to in
crease or elevato hit stock. But, once ho had
acquired a notion of any sort, be clung to it, or
it to him, with the tenacity of the limpet on
tho rock.
I do not think he remembered himself what
offense he had been transported for. Perhaps
many years of solitary bosh life had affected
bis memory, and its dull uniformity detdened
the past Into one binned blaze. Like that oj
zho savage, hia mind did not look after, nor
very ikrbefore; yet utterly inactive it waa not.
Me did think and reason. In bis alow, dogged
fashion. He was not canning, nor nstarsily
cruel, though his ship and prison life had gen-
crated in lum a dull. brooding ferocity that
sometimes cams to light In outbreaks of fury.
And tbs highest idea hi t mind was capable of
conceiving sras embodied in the sroids, Mur
doch of Barangaroo.
This is how it came.
He had gradually become possessed of a
vague belief that it sras the destiny and nor
mal condition of man to be sworn at, cuffed,
kicked, and generally considered s nuisance,
Micas it were bis happy lot to be able to swear
at others in hli turn, and acquiesced therein In
bis dull, passive sray. And so. when his time
was oat, and he set forth on his aimless wan
derings, be drifted out to Barangaroo station,
With convict written on every line of his
slouching figure and solien face. And it came
lo pass, one hot December morning, that he
Stopped listlessly by the door of Murdoch's
shearing shed, and saw ■ man ride by at a tear
ing gallop, on a magnificent black bone; a man
in a scarlet shirt, with s curly head and s
twUklin^e^who suddenly reined up, stopped
“Hello, old cock! have yon any pirticnlsr
engagement?’ And wMle Bill Adamson was
slowly trying to evolve an answer, he wassur-
jui ed by another question:
“Can you shear a sheep withont cutting him
i aU to planar*
I Adamson fixed his eyes ou the frank, kin llr
face that looked down on him, and gradually
finding his voice, said:
• Itdon’t know, but i'll try."
' Come on, then!" said Murdoch, as he sprang
down and hitched his horse to a post But be
fore he bad gone three stops he turnod and
leaned against the wail, with his hand against
bis fide, shaking with langbter.
“You ic a rum customer, you are! You've
never asked mo what you're to get!"
Tho man dropped his head and kicked nerv
onely at a stone on the ground. Then he mat
tend, withont looking at Murdoch:
“Yon never atked me where I came from."
And Murdoch understood. There was a cu
rfotis twist of perversity in his nature, or some
of liis friends so called it Civilized and re
spectable citizens he would treat with the sub-
Hincst audacity of disdain; it was a common
saying about him that he fcarod nothing and
respected nobody. But for outcasts ana dis
reputable characters of any sort he had a quick,
instinctive sympathy. It did not take much
K netratiou to guess the history of the man
fore him, and following the impulse of the
moment ho did the very thing to|bind that man
to him for life.
“All right, then. Is it a bargain? Shake
hands on it!"
So they shook hands, and Bill Adamson was
installed among the shearers, and afterward
when that nomad tribe scattered away east ant
west, to pastures now, he remained on as one of
tho Barangaroo shepherds; a queer, silent, soli
tary man, who worked for three, seldom spoke,
and neversmiled, except when Murdoch spoko
to him. Bo lilted the lonely lifo at the
hut on 8tringy Bark hill, where few men
were willing to stay; among tho other hands
on the station he was moody, sullon, and “diffi
cult;" but the two men wno shared tho hut
with him found him “well enough to get on
with, if you let him alone." The months went
on, one day exactly Uke another, till they
added u;
he had 1
be would pass bv casuslly when out shooting,
and sit over a pipe beforo Adamson's fire, talk
ing to him in that frank, trustful, kindly way
J iot all Bill’s history from him, bit by bit, and
■cepenedlnto a dumb, dog like worship the
un«n’i first vague admiration. I do not Know
whether Bill Adamson had ever loved anyone
or anything in his life before; I do know that
be loved Lennox Murdoch.
And now Gibson had brought the news that
Lennox Murdoch lay dying at Barangaroo. I
cannot try to follow and analyze the wild,
formless thought! that worked in that dark
brain of his. A superstitious sailor to begin
with, brooding for weeks together over his own
thoughts in the bush, it Is in truth scarcely to
bo wondered at if his. ideas of the Unseen
I were not much higher.: than those of tho
bronze-colored savages who would comoand
cat themselves stupid ou Murdoch's mutton
and damper round their camp fire3 near his
hut. Ho believed in the existence of a higher
power, whoso name ho some' j
for. u> “ , -a-, whc.'i mow raverolffly Inclined,
he vaguely referred—but this rarely happened
—us ‘They;" and, In a sort of way, in the effi
cacy of prayer, though his views on the subject
were peculiar. Only I know that there came
to him then, in some dim and inarticulate
ahape,(he old. old, ever-recurring idea of •>
Bfe for a life," and the demon god whose cruel
will can only be fatisfiod with blood.
They came in as usual, and settled down to
their supper and their costomary monosylla
bic talk. Just at last, beforo they turned in for
the night, one of them happened to ask him
whether he he had seen any one that day. He
answered in his slow drawl, os he kuockcd the
ashes out of his pipe against his knee:
“Gibson from Murray's was here this after
noon. Camo past Barangaroo. Says tho boss is
real bad. Got hurt with a tree falling on him."
There was a dead silence. Then the two in*
terchanged comments and questions in a low
voice, and finally, after having tried in vain to
get more lucid information from him, the
turned away and wrapped themselves in the!
blankets, leaving him still smoking by the fire.
Thereupon lie looked up and said: “Oneo
you stay here tomorrow; I wantcr to go down
and see how he is;" to which they answered
“All right," and were asleep in a few minutes.
He sat still, watching the dying embers for
met*—* 41 1 * * **
bispoi
be always carried, stuck his knife in his belt,
felt for and found the tin pannikin which
served him for a drinking cup, and opening tho
door softly went out.
Then m no moos, bat it wu bright star-
light, and ho bad lived zo many yoars in tho
Illikeasleutb-
and twitting his waylhreugh it llkts
low; then he crowed an open grassy tract, dotted
with gum trees here and there; then, aftar
a long climb op a steep quarts strewn Mlbldu,
and an abrupt descent into a gully beyond, he
came to a spot that perhaps oo white man’s foot
bad ever trodden before. It was a level grasey
space, with thickly wooded siopea rising on
three sides of it like an amph -theatre. Tall
gum trees grew about it here and there, but not
to closely as to shut out the starry sky, Iu tbe
middle waa a grass-grown mound, where trsdi-
tion said that a native chief was hurried; thcro
waa a cairn of atones piled on tho top, aud here
and there wMte objects, that might have been
bones, glinted in tbe foint light. It was an
uncanny place, avoided by tbe blacks them
selves for the most part, though they came there
to hold nightly corroboree now and then. All
was perfectly still, except for the roshlng of
the creek down below, and the low, solemn
stirring of the wind in the tree-tops. Ho heaped
a pile of dry sticks on tha mound, going to
work slowly, methodically, in his every day
fashion; set fire to it with his flint and steel,
and stood watching it patiently till it leaped
into a blaze; then he tamed away,and clearing
away the (rase and leaves, drew with his kalfe
circle round the grave.
He stripped off his shirt, and laid it aside:
then he knelt down in the circle before the
fire, with his knife and pannikin betide him,
and clasped Ms hands before hit face, and
fe had never done such a tMng in hii life
before; at any rate not since be was a child at
bis mother's knee. Perhaps tha words he said
may shock you if written down, eogroteequely
blasphemous, so pathetically horrible weretbey.
Yet, maybe, there are people whose inarticulate
(retd, if put into plain English, would not
amount to «*nr»h bettor.
"Lord A’mighty," he said, "I don't know
much about this yer basinets—I’m only a lag,
an' maybe 'tain't the thing for me to speak.
But if yon want to kill any one, do kill me.
Maybe it'a all the same to you—au-I, yoa see,
nobody would mist mo. • * • I don’t know
bow to cay it all right, hat I reckon you'll
know what I mean. Strike me deal now, or
any time you please, an' let him get better.
Amen.
"Four comers to m; bed,
Four angel* round my head,
It was the only thing of tha sort he remem
bered out of hia fbr-off childhood; perhaps the
only prayer he had ever learned. It may bs
that Be thought it of service as a kind of devo
tional incantation. _
He took Ms hands from his foe ami held
value, ezpectant eye* np l
log for tho stroke to foil. Ho really had some
expectation that it would.
There was a sodden hoarse scream and a far-
off flapping of winga in the stillness above his
head. It waa an eagle-hawk, disturbed from
Ms nest in the highest of the stringy-barks.
“Maybe he's gone to fetch the thunderbolt,
he thought, as a fragment of wild, dim nature-
myth darted through his mind. “Woldja,
woldja!” And he murmured some words in
the native language, most likely a charm.
But all was still; the fire leaped and flickered,
and the eaglo-hawk did not come back.
He took up hisknife front the ground anddroiv
the sharp point quickly down Ms breast; then
made another out across it and held up tiro cup
mean it, but I do!
he first, and tho rest to come
content, into the fire,
in the flame he went on speaking)
"I’m goln’ down in the morning to see him
once more. If you do your part and lot him get
better I’ll como here tomorrow night and end
It. I swear solemnly I will. Yoa hear me?
Will that do?”
He knelt with uplifted, blood-stained hands,
looking up to tho peaceful sky. As he looked
a failing star drew a lino of light scree! th<
space of sky between the tops of the stringy-
lurks and vanished,
"It's donot it's dono!” he cried, and flung
himself forsrard on bis faco. He lay there for
some tlmo without moving; while the fire flick
ered down and dlod, leaping up now and then,
and casting weird, vague i ...
ovsr tho grave mound aud
Tho alow hours of the afternoon dragged out
their cruel length; Macdonald, the overseer, sat
by Murdoch's side. Murdoch lay still, with
closed eyes-not aeloop—Macdonald knew that
by the occasional twitching of the whito lips
in a spasm of pain, and the tightening grasp of
the hand he held in his. He had dona all he
eonld to relieve the long last agony: it was not
much; there waa no snrglual aid witMn reach,
and he knew enough to feel sure that oven
had there been,no skill or care eonld save Mm.
They would never quarrel again, these two;
they hsd done so regularly about once a week,
and nu one would have inspected from Mac
donald’s dry, reserved ways and esnstic sovori
ly of speech that he loved this “feckless,’’
reckless Murdoch like his own brother.
He
dock
oyer.
“I'm that tired, Mae! I shall bo glad when
its over.”
It was the first word of complaint ho had
uttered. Macdonald had not broken down be
fore, hut he felt near it now. Ho felt the sob
rising in Ms throat ss ho murmured something
incoherent about the impowibility of getting a
doctor.
“Don't worry about that, Mac. Why, bless
you, he'd only bother mo and not lio able to do
pulled shoot?"" Thank'you, eld HI
Macdonald had risen and changed his pillows,
was bathing his forehead, looking with a vague
trouble into tho sunken dark eyea.
“All right, Mac; I know that I’m done for—
I’ve no hope a of being patched up again. Only
don't yon fret. What b it?”
One of the stockmen had como to the hslf-
ptn doer and was beckoning to Macdonald,
•ho went out softly, dosing it behind him.
“Well?”
“It's Black Bill, that there queer cove from
the hush. Beckon he’s gone crazy-likc. He’s
been sitting them in the doorway the last three
hours and won’t go awsy. Come down this
morning, wanted to know how the hoes wu;
says we’re to tell him u loan as he's any
better.”
Macdonald went dawn and found him seated
there, sullen, slonchy, defiant, in outward
seeming, knees crossed, and arms folded; no
life about him savo In tho dull gleam of his
black eyes under their lowering brows. He
rose slowly and touched his hat.
'Ain't he no better yet?"
> any
A troubled look came into the man's wild
eyes.
"I thought it would bo afore sundown,’’ ho
muttered. “Don’t you believe it, sir; he ain't
a-goin’ to die; so, no. not he!"
He sat down again, settling back Into hia old
look of dogged patience. Macdonald, finding
it tireless to say anytMng t j Mm, went quietly
back, and took up Ms post again botlda Mur
doch.
"What waa it, Mac? Any one wanting you?”
“It was Bill Adamson, from tho huts beyond
l he creek. Ho wu wanting to know how you
were.”
"Black BUI? Poor old chap! You didn’t und
him away, did you? I’d liko to ate him
"Can you liear it, Murdoch?”
“Why not? Do 1st Mm eoms up!”
Macdonald went dosro again, and found him
still motionless in tbe same position. He
touched Mm on the shoulder.
"Adamson, will you come up? He wants to
see yon.”
The man's whole face lighted up.
“The best? May I?”
He roso at once to follow; then ho suddenly
stopped and carefully drow off his heavy
boots.
"Did he say he wanted to see me?”
“Yes.”
Me spoke not another word, but went into
the room with Macdonald, and stood awk
wardly at the foot of tho hod, scarcely daring
to lift bis eyes to the changed white face with
the hollow temples and drawn lips.
“Well, old follow! I'm awfully glad to see
you. Just leave us a little, wlU you, Mac?”
Aud Macdonald left them togather.
He looked up, twisted his fingers helplessly,
scrspedjthe floor with his foot, and Jerked out
the words, with a kind of defiance:
“Yen won't die, hoes! I know you,'won't. I've
made it all right!"
“What do you mean? Come hero!” And ho
went nearer, and Lennox Murdoch lifted hia
unwounded left arm and laid it around bis
neck.
by, don't you know, hoes? They said
they’d take ma instead of you—and they sroa't
go back on their word.”
“I don't understand. Tril me all about It.”
He raised himself, it most have coat him
aifnl pain, with Ms old winning, mischievous
smile, as if ho were mightily amused at himself
aud the whole situation, and laid hia head
down on Bill's ihoulder. Tho gnat bush nun
wonnd bia rough arms tenderly round the
slight figure andasked instead of answering:
“Does it hurt you now r”
“No; not much account. Tell me what you
mean, dear old lad?’ . . • .
So he told him, slowly, in broken, awkward
words, having to be helped out hy questions
now and then, of tbs black follows’ burial
piece, and the midnight incarnation, and how
“they" had promised ly tha sign of the felling
star. And befonha had ended, the dying naan
waa sobbing aa if hia heart would break.
“Don't, jar; Ms. don’t! YouTl hart yourself,
"-BUM dear, dear old Bill! how could you
think of sods a thing ? Oh, God t oh, Oodt”
* My life for yours. Mine ain't worth much,
and whit would we evor do without yon I”
“Oh, hut yin mustn't; you mustn't think of
Ood in that way! Yon, oh! what shall I say
to yon? You'll break my heart!’’
"Don't take on. don't. I didn’t think it
woo’d have'vexed yo so. I wouldn't have
lold!”
t'Llsten to me, now, and remember what I
say. Will you?”
Bill nodded, but did not"«peak.
“Yon mustn't think it's bad for mo to die.
See, if I went array to Sidney, you wouldn't
be wanting to leave tho sheep and run after
me^would you ? You'd just wait till I came
Something like a sob shook tho man's ragged
chest, and the slow, hard tears gathered in his
“But you’ll never come back I”
“No; hut j
yon 1-elleve I care for you; don’t you f”
you can come to me. Look hero,
“Ay. that I do, hoes!”
“God made yon, and
more than ever I can. Csn’t you
love* you? If I didn't think He did mo I
rhonldntknowwhattodonow. You musn’t
think ha does not love me becauso I’m dying
like this. I’m going to Him, and so will you,
if yon wait patiently and try to do right, Re
member, yon won't see me again if yon do
what yoo mid.”
“But I promised.’’
“Ho don’t want you to keep that promise.
You didn't know rightly what He sras when
yon made it. I—I wish I could help you—tell
yon clearly what I mean. Aik Him to help
you-Oust as you’d talk to mo • • •
Promise me you'll not kill yourself.”
“I won't, then, if yon don’t want.”
• “Shake hands on It, then. Ail right; yon
won’t hart mo”—for he saw Bill looking heal-
■ - “ the slender, bai
nembor now."
”1 will.”
“I’ll be looking out for you, old man.
BLOOD AND IRON.
i.
John Blair eamo to a sudden halt In the mid-
dlo of the road.
“Shall I go on to Bethel church?" he atk.-d
“or loaf about in the sunshine?”
Although there was uo oue in tight he spoke
aloud.
"What do I care for old Parson Dryman?” ho
continued. “He has frightened all these timid
fools so that they have turned hypocrites to
escape the wmth to come. Woll, I'll take my
chances."
8tnrdy, broad-shouldered, with a bullet
head, a square face, massive jaws, a ronlute
mouth, and cold gray eyea, John Blair looked
the very incarnation of strength and courage.
He stood still a moment and glanced np nnd
down tho narrow country road as itmeandered
through tho brown and barren fields and rocky
woodlands until It lost itself tn tbe rod hills.
The dilapidated mil fence by tho wayside
attracted hie attention.
"Just liko neighbor Morris,’’ ho said with a
grim smile. "Dick Is a fool, of course, and
with such land aa that ho couldn't do much,
bnt ho could do better. Look nt my place. It
was almost aa bad, hot I have tamed It into a
it.”
I shall always think of yonr coming. So don't
you go hack on mo. My poor, dear old chap!"
Macdonald came and laid his hand on Adam
son's ahonlder and asked Mm to go away; bnt
Murdoch looked tip and said, “Let him
ay, please!” 80 Bill staid.
He never closed an eye during the next two
days and nights that followed. It was in hia
arms that -Lennox Murdoch died, worn out
with the torture of fever and sleeplessness, hut
patient and gentle to tbe last while he hsd his
lenses ubonthim. Once, during tho last night,
ho called Macdonald to Mmand told him Bill’s
secret end prayed him, if he loved Mm, to ho
kind gutawpoor, wild, blondoting soul. And
icdonzld promised, with dry oyes and dry
throat. -
Macdonald kept Ms promise. Ho staid on
it tbe ran trader the new squatter, and- so did
'111, who went abont hia daily work much ns
more “qnecc” and silent than licfore.
' lo look abont him in a bewildered
World Wi re out or joint, thiingli
how, Macdonald was almost tho
ever spoko to if ha could halo it,
‘ wan Mono lie would talk
1 sonic fm*?'infill inter-
d listen attentively to tho
‘ ‘‘y words, nnd perhaps,
some lator time, that
ho had taken In more of their spirit than ouo
might havo thought.
Tho winter passed away, and the spring,
and another summer—ami then ho soimed
Itadually to foil. He grew listless and dreamy,
■Is strength forsook Mm, his moods were stran
ger than ever, though tho old fiorce outbursts
of temper were never heard now, and there
i a new gontloneu in all hia wordsand ways,
1 in this stato—little likely to offer roilst-
e to any disease—a creeping chill strack
him, and be took to his bed with malaria fever,
* —* upsgalr
ode up
It, and snlvod only Just iu time to soo hint be
fore bo died. He was unconscious of all around,
but kept murmuring to himself, “I’m coming
—yer. I’m coming!" and oneo or twice they
caught the name “Murdoch!"
THE WHITE RIVER ACCIDENT.
An Examination Shows Dcfeotlve Material
On tha Road,
White Ilivrn Junction, Vi, February 7.—
Official investigation into the circumstances
connected with the railroad disaster of Hator.
day began at Junction bouse this afternoon.
large number of people, prominent through
out New England, were In attendance. The
investigation waa held under the Immediate
direction of tbe board of rail
road commissioners of Vermont,
ca-Governor Fingrce, chairman; Professor
Fletcher, chief of the engineering department
of Dartmouth college, who has made a close
examination of the track leading to tho
bridge, says there were three rails tom up at
the point where the car "Pilgrim” probably
left tho track. The rails all show signs of de
fect in material in construction. Professor
Fletcher thinks that an axle on the ear “Pil
grim’’ broke, causing Its derailment. That was
the only ear which left the track until the
bridge waa reached.
White Bivk* Junction, Vt, February «.—
.. meat carelul revision, tho accuracy of which
is Indisputable, shows the following estimate
of the number of prisons on the wrecked train
and how accounted for up to IO a, m. today,
which makes the number of killed tMrty-two.
There were brought to Windsor, on tho Con
necticut Jflver read, 30 people; to White Blver
Junction, on tbe Boston ana Lowell road, 37;
taken on at White River Junction, 6; train
men, 12; total on train, 85. Accounted for as
follows; Injured, per surgeon's official list,
30; dead bodies recovered to Sunday, surgeon's
ccunt, 27; found Sunday, 5; known to hnvo
gone north on trains, 12; known to have re
turned home, 6; total, 85.
The previous computations St tho total
number of passengers on tho wrecked train Is
tonight increased by six, making ninety-one
known to havo been there. This isierease Is
the result of evidence introduced before the
commiariouers, showing that there weretMrty-
six persons on tbe Connecticut river trsln,wbo
who were transferred to tbe Central Vermont,
instead ef thirty as at first stated
lay the conductor. His present statement
is verified by ticket office reports. This lesvss
six passengers still unaccounted for, and for
whom there is room in the flexibility of the sur
geons’ estimates of the charred bodies made
on Sonday. The total number of ideotifled
dead np to this morning Is seveet-ei, the list
having been Increased by one today through
the Identification of the remains of Harry
Brooks, of Boston, whose body is tonight being
taken to Cornwall, Canada, by rciativee.
A Million Dollar Drink,
From the i'nlladclphfa Press.
It isn't every yonng man who can indulge
_ a 11,000,000 drunk, but tbe sou of be os tor Fair, of
Nevada, did It the other evening in Washington,
when he tried lo shoot ex-Representatlve Psge, of
California, because the latter refused to taka a
drink with him. Young Fair had been promised
aoooin,000,(Wirh« uoold go for a year without
drinking, and had scored np seven months of the
allotted time, hot the temptation to go on a tear
that would cost a ronsd million wu too glittering
lor hia little mind, and be feU. Young Mr. Fair
may never he a senator or a hero, bnt genemU-yu
will rise up and point lohlmaa a man who “Mated
timsflftoouv of the Coatll.tR drunks Vfl record.
cpatches
of half-eleand land visible in tho stunted for
ests on tho rocky Mllildes did not promise
Imurb.
"As I am not going to old Bethel,” said
Blair, “l’H do a little exploring,”
He cantioosly climbed the fence, and started
with a swinging stride in tho dlroctiou of tho
hills.
Two hours later John Blair straggled up out
of a ravine, with a brown lump in his hand.
His face wu as whito as a shoot, and his oycri
blazed with excitement. Uo swung his net
around Ms head.
“Gold! Gold! Gold!" he shouted.
Then with a scared look he crouched down
in tho grass, still holding the brewn lump in
hie hand,
“Whata fool I ami” he whispered. “Bnt
nobody beard me. It is Sunday, and my good
neighbor Morris is at churob.”
He pulled out hia knife, and with the stout
Undo chipped off a few pieces from his myste
rious lump. These he examinod closoly.
“I was right,” bo almost gasped, with a sigh
of reliof. ‘This is iron and nothing olso. My
mining days in Pennsylvania (nnght mo some
thing. 1 know good ora when I see it.”
Taking tliespccimcn in both hands ho threw
It with all Ills force against a rock and broke it.
He scrutinized tho fragment-.
“It is irou,” he repeated, “aud that means
gold. Yes, gold! gold!" ho exclaimed, again
giving way to his excitement.
Blair sprang to his foot aud looked nhout
him. There was no one to ho seen. Gather-
ing up tho pieces of bis specimen ho walked
rapidly down to a lit*to crock a*, the foot of the
Mil ami threw tiicffl into the water,
II.
upon a moes covered reek In a shady covert,
and gave himself np to his thoughts.
“Jennie wonld like tills,’’ ho said, “I must
bring her out here. Tho very place fora sum
mer resort.”
Then ho thought of his daughter's birthday,
and his hard fore softened.
What was that? It sounded likes stealthy
lair glanced around him. ,
> had their old eagle-llko range, and thoy
lace put Blair on his guard. Bn
- fearless, hat as the Iren King,
wu hb duty to taka care of Mm-
Hb keen gray
ryes had their old e ' " *
took in everything.
“Jtwasnothlnf,”he said, u ho reclined on
his elbow, and proceeded to |bui!d more alr-
castiea for Jennie and hlmaelf.
Another rustle among the dead leaves. Waa
. somebody, or wu It an anf - — ■
linesa of the place put Blair t
wu absolutely fear'
ha felt that it wu 1
seif. Hb apprehensions, however, it he had
any, vanished when he uw a grey-haired,
fcehlo leaking man. In faltered garments,
emerge from the depths of the forest and stand
before him. »
The new comer paused and looked Blair
ateadUy in tbelkoo.
“Move on!” commanded tho latter.
The tramp did not stir. Hb tMn. yellow foes
bore the lines of cam and suffering, and hb
K rb showed that he had traveled far, and had
en i x posed to all sorts of weather.
“Thb b no place for tramps,” said Blair
coldly; “you must move on.”
“John Blair!”
The millionaire started.
“What do you mean by addressing me in
that way?’ ho shouted. “Leave at once.”
“John Blair, have yon forgotton me?’
Tho other looked steadily at tho mans tm»-
M
There waa very little haggtlag ovor terms.
Morris wu glad to get anything, ami when he
cairicd home a thousand dollars in twenty
dollar gold pieces, Mrs. Morris aud tho throe
tow-headed diildren were so much agitated
that their first impulse wu to tit up all night.
They finally compromised by going to hod and
remaining wide awake until daylight.
Tbe Morrises packed up their household
goods and lest no time in transferring them
selves to tho west. They were glad to leave
the old red hills where they had known noth
ing but poverty and toil.
Honest Dick Morris felt somo compunctions
of conscience, although he could not see where
he wu to blame, and before hb departure he
hunted up John Bblr.
“Now, John,"said be, apologetically, "I hope
yon are utbficd with tho trade?’
“Ob, it will do,” answered Blair, puffing
away at hb cob pipe.
“You know I never bragged about tho place,
hut then you know it u well u I do or bet
ter.”
“Just so,” assented Bltir shortly, “I know it
ss well u yon do or better.”
'Then I am satisfied,” aid Morris. “Good
bye, old fellowxnd may the good Lord prosper
yon and yours,"
The other took hb hand, and, looking down
at the ground, aid:
"Good-bye, Morris. Take my advice, and
stick to tho west. There bechance thore for
yon. There Is none here, u you know. As
for myself, I am a good worker, and I can
make a living where yoo would fail.”
They parted good friends, and tbe Morrises
started on their western tHp.
“I can't help feeling sorry for Blair,” a
wife. '
dd
Pick to bis wl...
Hint 1 never knew what a good follow he wu
until we got to trading. When we get settled
end begin to prosper, I shall try to persuade
him to come out and loin ug.”
And Dick felt tho weighty money belt
around hb waist, and beamed all over with
good nature and gratitude,
IIM
Tho growth of Ironboro wu almost magics).
In the region around it nothing like It had
ever been known. ,
When John Bbir found that big brown lump
he found a fortune.
Bbir wu no ordinary fanner. He hod a
head for affsin. He organized a company and
controlled it. Capital was obtained, and ha
controlled that too. Ho wueo strong-willed
and clear-headed that few men were his match.
They recognized bis gift of leadership, sad
yielded to him.
So Ironboro ires bid out. A railroad wu
built from it to one nf the main transportation
lines. Furnaces, rolling mills, steal works
and kindred Industries ware soon in full blast,
stately structures of granite aud brick were
erected. In five yean Ironboro was a flourish
ing little city. In ten years it sru an impor
tant industrial center. In fifteen years it wu
generally spoken of ass metropolis.
So much prosperity had its natural effect
upon John Bbir. The Iron King, as he wu
called, bad always been cold and nnsympa-
thet'e. and hb success did not change him for
the better,
•"ine proudest man that ever itapped." said
one of hb acquaintances in speaking of him,
and Ms appearance jostlfied it.
If John Bbir loved anybody it wu hb
daughter, a beautiful girl Just blooming into
Eellehood. ’ She was motherless, and perhaps
IMS had 'sonnt’iing~to”dojwlth her father's
tenders esc.
It wu to dream of this daughter, and pbn
a birthday surprise for her, that tha million
aire took a stroll on a quiet Sabbath morning
in tha auburU of Ironboro. He answered the
salutations of hb fellow-townsmen with a cut*
nod, aud proceeded on hb way. He could not
afford (a shake bands with any human crea
ture unless he represented a cool million at the
leMte
On, and stilt onward the rich map. walked,
until he wuoet of right oftosrere »;nd steeples
aud mansard roof*. But the teugual exercise
IMIgued him, and finpll; no threw MnueU
“1 do not know you,” wu hb reply.
“I am Dick Mortis!"
Blair taunted a sitting posture, and grasped
hb walking stick with a firm grip.
“Wei),’’ He remarked caroleeily, “you seem
to havo bad a rough tussle with the world.
Such b lire. Some go up and somo go down.
I have gone up."
Morris remained silent, and hb impassive
Ace expressed no emotion.
— ' a should have
! ha! A great country b the r
There wu room for you out there. I am sur-
prbed to see you back hero.”
“John Bbir," replied Morris, “If my appear
ance surprise.* you, what do you think my sur-
I riao must be? I left thb place a wilderness,
find Its great city.”
“Jnstso, Dick. It Is a great city. And I havo
made it. I own most of it. I own most ef tho
men and women iu it. Why, Dick, tlioso hire
lings over tln-io, whether they wear hroadrloth
or .icon*, aro my slave*. They run at my bcclc
and cnll. They bask In my smile, and aro
wretched when I frown, Tho Lord has been
good to me, old fellow."
“And what has made you so rich?” asked
Morris fiercely.
“Brains, friend Morrir; 1,rains and hard
Work.” ’
"Why uot say Tohhcry?”
"J.a- here, Dick .Mortis, you most Lake your
self off," growled the Iron King,
"But it was robbery," was tho answer. “I
know tho whole story. You took ad
vantage of my ignoranco and stupidity.
You prowled aV.-iit on my land,
nnd dircovered Iron. Then you stoffod mu
with wettero fable*, bought my proporly for u
song, and jreituadr d mo to try my luck beyond
tho Mlaalmlppl, I took your advice, I wont.
Tho land swindler* got most of my tommy. I
tolled hopeleiKly with my wlfo ami children
J tar after year, hut to nopurpore. Thu iload-
y swamp fever carried off my family ono by
one, and left me tha wreck or my formorat-lf.
I tramped it all the way hero, and what h*vo
1 found? Happiness and wealth that should
havo been mine I find cratered in you."
Blair rose to bio feet, lib foce had resumed
its every-day bard look.
“Woll, what aro you going to do about it?’
he asked. 'Tha law b on my aide.”
“The law!” sneered Morris, “What Is the
Uw worth when you have an utterly deeper,
ate man to deal with ?’
The millionaire turned pale. What wu the
bw worth In such a case? Ho grasped bis
stick more firmly.
"Did yon follow me here?” ho asked.
“I did!”
“And your object ?’’
'To kill you I"
Bbir raised his stick. Morris stepped baelc
aud draw a pistol.
"Hold, my friend,” said the threatened mao,
you do uot mean to say that because I got ths
est of yon in a trade you
mo? Tho Iron b mine,”
“And your blood b mine!”- cried Morris,
cocking hb pistol,
God's sake, Morris, stopl Wo can make
somo arrangement. Think of my daughtar!”
"Your daughter, you robber.' What wu my
daughter's hto?”
With tho desperate fury of a brave man at
hay, Blair rushed forward with uplifted
iticKa
A share report rang out, and the Iron King
fell heavily to the ground with a ballet through
hb brain.
• eeeeso*
Blair’s fete bad a mystery connected with it
that the Ironborodetcctlvca could not unravel.
A pistol wu found by tho dead man’s side.
Wu it ninrder or suuide? The dluppeannos
of an unknown tramp gave color to tho mur
der theory, but the fact that the dead man bad
not been robbed made it doubtful. Tbe troth
was not known n
Ing tramp In a ho
tha story of tbe crime. Ha expressed no re
grets, tnd with hb last breath uclalmed:
"1 had to take bit lifo to get even. It took
hb blood to pay for my Iron!”
CLffiAR THE GALLERIES.
was caused in the hall of the house of repre-
sentstlvee thb afternoon. The special order
ws* the puaage of the high licensed bUl and
tha gallery tnd hall of lire house were nocked
with spectators. The capitel, while almost a
new building, ha* been considered unsafe for
some month* and considerable plastering has
recently Allen. Shortly aftar tho union be
gan the attantioa of Chairman Donnelly waa
called to tha fact that the ceiling cross-
beams appeared to he tattling, and
one member declared that the gallery
had settled four inches. A motion wu hurriedly
carried that spectators lie excluded, whereupon
tho gallery and abbs were cleared. It b tho
opinion or many that a frightful disaster was
narrowly averted by the prompt action of
Chairman Donnelly. Suheeooentiy a rotolu-
tien wu passed for an Immediate examination
of the building by experts. The building was
erected In 1880. It sras examined and re
paired last winter. It b aid tbe timber* are.
affected with dry rot.
Tho Manna Loa Volcano.
Han Fbancmco, February 10.—Adrlces
from Honolulu report that tho voleaon Manna
Laa, on Hasreii bland, Is again active. Tha
craptlon began January 15 with an explosion
of lire, smoke and lava. Tbe latter flowed,
down through fissures, and if its course is not
changed it will flew to the sea withont doing
much damage. Earthquake shocks were fre
quent throughout tho bbttd, hut were without
serious consequences.