T H E T O R C H OF R E A S O N , S IL V E R T O N , O R E G O N , T H U R S D A Y , M A R C H 4, 1897. GOLDEN THRONE [ a ROMANCE BY SAMUEL P. PUTNAM.] W ell, th ey stood facing each other, th e big and th e little crowd; and, somehow or other, the little crowd seemed to be getting the best o fit, and there was a perceptible sh rin k in g in the bigcrow d. It isn ’t alw ays num bers th a t win. Still, however there m ight have been a bloody fight; but the deacon, who u n til now’ had been strong for hanging, seeing th a t the opposition W’as pretty vigorous, changed his tactics, p ut up his p isto l,an d said: “ Well, give the boy a chance. H e’ll have to hang anyw ay, for th ere’s no doubt of his convicton. In the mean tim e, I ’ll lend him my bible and persuade him to study th e catechism . It is possible th at he m ay be washed in the blood of the lam b and wear a robe of white. I ’ll put up mv pistol, and s ta rt a prayer-m eeting for his sak e.” The words and act of the eow anlly deacon gave a chance for the others to back gracefully down. They p u t up their pistols, all except Dick. He was still pugnacious. But he was entirely alone, and he saw the uselessness of m aking any fu rth e r effort. He was now in a m inority of one; and he was not fitted by nature to fulfill the responsibilities of such a position, so with a glum countenance he subm itted to th e tu rn of fortune. ‘‘Well, I wash m y hands of the business,” lie said, as lie put up his pistols ‘‘W e’ll wait, and give tha prisoner a tria l. It'll am ount to the sam e in the end. IIow much tim e do you w an t?” “ A w eek’ll do,” said C harlie. “ I)o you g ra n t it? “ We do,” said the man. “ Will you keep the boy, and prom ise to give him up a t the tim e set, Dick?” said C harlie. “ Indeed, I w ill,” said Dick. “ No body sh all touch or in ju re him. I ’ll feed him well, and give him a good bed. T here’s m y word for it,” an d he gave his hand to Charlie. “ Go,” said C harlie to little Pete, “ you are as safe with him as with your own m other now. I will see you to-m orrow . I will be your council an d defend you, an d , it possible, prove y o u r innocence. Paddie, I w ant you with Jennie to give me a lift on th is case. I'll m anage the evidence, and you m ust m ake the p lea.” Now’ th a t Big Dick was constable instead of hangm an, he was determ ined to do his dutv •» to the utm ost, and keep Pete in good con dition u n til the trial. “ Come, my little fellow,” said he, “ you need n 't be afraid. You are safe with me until after th e trial, then the devil m ay have his own. I ’ll m ake you as com fort able as I can. Don’t crv now. If I was as sure of a week's good liv in g as you are, I'd be happy. 'T isn ’t every body can look forward to as much as th a t." They all adjourn« d to supper, and pretty soon the night was as q u iet as if nothing had happened. C hapter V III. Old Maddox had been killed the night before, evidently m urdered; for all his savings were gone. At the sam e tune little Pete had m ysteriously disappeared. An im m ediate search was made, and miles from cam p, fleeing as if for his very life, was discovered the cu lp rit; and, as if to m ake his guilt u n doubted, lie was on the very horse th a t Maddox «iwned. The money was not found. P robably, he had flung it aw ay when he saw the pursuers ch se upon him. H e was trem bling with terror, an d could scarcely speak a word. Only now and then could he shriek out and piteously b tg for m ercy. The rude men who captured him had no more doubt of his guilt th an th a t the sun shone, and on their arriv al at cam p proceeded to lynch him ; and not a protest would have been m ade on his behalf, had it not been for the opportune arriv al of M orton. He saved him for the tim e being, but there was little hope of his acq u ittal, and bis doom seemed certain. “ Well, the little cuss shall have a fair trial anyw ay,” said M >rton, as he sat in bis cabin, talk in g over th e m atter with Paddie Jo h n ami Jim m y, the “m inister,” early the next m oning. “ T h a t’ll be better th an n o th in g .” “ It w on't do him much good, unless he gets converted, as G >»ch says,” said Paddie. “ I rath er th in k he is guilty. T here’s nobody else did it, and then why in the devil did he run off?” “ I t's all against him , I know ,” said C harlie; “ bu, I ’m going to do some th in g for him. I d o n ’t like to believe th a t he’d do such a horrible deed as th a t.” “ But h e ’s such a weird-looking, little,sn ea k in g fellow’,” said Paddie. “ It m akes me shudder to look at him , he’s so ghost like. H e’s one of those dam ned New York waifs th a t alm ost live on air Moated out here from F i\e Points. He hasn ’t any more conscience th a n a ghoul. He wars conceived in crim e an 1 born io in iq u ity , and in th a t respect he beats David all hollow. H e’s a living specimen of original sin.” “ I guess you are rig h t,’’ said Jim m y. “ In m y younger days, when I was a theological student and thought I could do an y th in g for the Lord, I trie d to convert some of these little devils. I had my hands full. They stole all the hvm • n-books and mv *■ hat and cane the first S unday; atnl I had to walk home bareheaded, and caught cold. I'vealw ays thought the Lord d id n ’t treat me fair on th a t occasion. He ought to have perform ed a m iracle and kept my head clear, seeing th a t I was doing so m uch, or at least try in g to, for his kingdom. Yes, the devil himself would have “ F rightened? F rightened at to run aw ay from such youngsters, in order to be decent. I ’m ready w hat?” “ At som ething,—som ebody,--a to h elp you d efend him . “ I d o n ’t believe he is as bad as m an th a t I saw .” he looks,” said C harlie. “ I know “ A m an? W hat m an?” he has strange ways about him. “ I d o n ’t know*. I saw him just His eyes are wild and w andering at d a rk , and I tried to «scape.” as a haw k’s, and sh arp w ithal as “ W as it any m an in the camp? steel. H e keeps him self away from “ Oh, no, s< mt body I hadn,t seen us. H e acts shv; but I believe before,—that is, for a lo n g tim e .” there’s some good in him . I feel “ A strange m an in the cam p? as if I m ust get him acquitted, and A re y o u su re o f this?” let him go. He ought to have “ Yes, he was rough-looking, not another chance in th e world. I t ’s dressed like a miner. The m om ent too bad to hang him now.” it was dark, I took the first horse I “ I presum e it would be better to could find am i started off. Oh, I wait until he has killed three or w anted io go like the wind. I four other rascals asb ad as him self. thought th a t m an was pu rsu in g me. But it’s a m ighty .-mall chance he How his eyes glared! Save me! I has. W here’s the evidence? You would rath e r perish w ith these rude haven’t a pin to stand on. It's men th an to have him touch m e.” dead against him . I t ’s alm ost as “ I m ust sift this m a tte r.” said much as my life’s worth to make a C h a rlie plea for h im ,” said Paddie. “ It c a n ’t be th at you are d eceiv “ W e ll,y o u m u s t d o it; it I haven’t ing me. Come, boy, look me in the th e facts to acq u it h im . then I w ant face! .Just give me one square look! your im agination,” said C harlie. Don’t let your eyes w ander so. Tell * . “ Im agination is som etim es better me is this true th a t you have said th an facts. I’ll go over and see to me.” “ The bright eyes of the boy looked Pete, and get som ething out of him. I hope he’s some sort of a story to C harlie full in the face. They were liquid, unfathom able, as if born tell.” T in y “ How’s your prisoner?” said he beneath a southern sky. to Big Dick, as he went tow ard the flashed with glorious beauty like the eyes of those children th a t look la tte r’s cabin. “ All right,” said Dick: “ I’ve got upon the dome of Ita ly an d reflect W ith him safe, and I feed him well, but its wondrous brilliancy. lie don’t eat much. I was in hopes steady yet low voice, the boy said, “ It is tru e.” he’d fat up for the m ark et.” F or a m om ent, C harlie looked a t I m ust go and consult with him . him fixedly as if he would read his H e’s my client, you know.*’ Then suddenly he “ Y e s , b u t a m ighty sm all fee y o u ’ll whole soul. get, I reckon. I t ’s a thankless job grasped the tin y han d s and said vehem ently: “ I believe you, and t h a t’s on your hands. “ The boy shall have a chance I will defend you with every drop of my blood. I will search th is out. anyw ay.” “ Oh, yes, give him a chance,—a I will find this fellow’, if I can, am i good long rope. T he hanging will convict him of th e m urder. He m ust be somewhere about. Don’t come a t last.” “ You are pretty rough on him, fear. I ’m your friend from th is I think, Dick. H aven’t you killed tim e.” M orton consulted with B urnham , a m an in your d a y ? ” “ Of course I have, but never in and they instituted a thorough cold blood for money. I'v e a lw a y s search for the tram p. B u rn h am , had a reason, and my life was in indeed, gave him self up en tirely to danger. But to kill a poor old the work, and organized a band in m an when he's asleep, an d rob him order to scour the co u n try far an d of his hard earnings, th a t, I say, wide, and u n earth the m ystery. Deacon Gooch of course thought deserves the h alter; and he shall th at it was his business to call upon have the h alter.” “ W hat, even if the ju rv acquit the cu lp rit and attem p t to convert him. It seemed to his orthodox mind him ?” “ Oh, don’t flatter •f yourself th a t a good chance to display the riches the ju ry will acquit him. W e of the “ gospel.” He arm ed him I aven’t fools enough in the cam p self w’ith a bible, and proceeded a for th at, and besides they dare not day •r or two before the trial to the prison-house. The poor boy was acquit him .” C harlie found Pete in a far corner lying on the floor asleep. Traces of th e room, pale, haggard, and of enorm ous suffering w’ere on the alm ost in hysterics. The strong pala lips and closed eyes. The m an took the little one gently to his heavy step of the deacon aw’oke him, and he looked uneasily forth. side, and tried to soothe him . “ Come, tell me all about it,” said He did not seem p articu larly hap p y as he noticed the gloomy counten C harlie. “ Did you do it?” “ No I d id n ’t,” burst forth the ance of the im perturbable m ission boy im petuously. ary. “ I hope you d id n ’t, but ap p ear “ I have come to talk to you,” ances are against you. W hat m ade said the deacon. you run aw ay?” “ I don’t think it will do any good," “ Oh, I was so frightened!” said Pete.