Heppner gazette., April 21, 1910, Image 8

lath
tl
Haw Me Showed That There Was
i Method In His Madness.
4 Ey SARAH
ICopyright. 1M0,
BRYCE VAUGHAN
by American Press Asso
ciation.
One night, or, rnther, one morning,
about fifty Jem's ngo a group of young
men wore standing before u sideboard
In the city of Nashville, Tenn., drink
ing mint juleps. They were all in
Xaney costume, for they were intend
ing h masquerade ball, and strains of
music and laughter came in from the
adjoining rooms. The season was the
beginning of autumn, but in that south
ern location warm weather lingered,
ledeed, the "galleries" were Inclosed
to gain mom for the guests,
i "What shall we do for hunting this
Benson?" remarked one of the young
men at the sideboard. "The country
Is all taken up, and every estate has
a sign up forbidding shooting on the
premises."
"Last year," said another, "we were
permitted to shoot on the Woodbridge
estate. There was no one there ex
cept caretakers and servants, but now
iMiss Woodbridge has returned from
the east to take possession of her In
heritance, and I see that a notice
against trespassing and shooting has
been put up."
Among these young; men was one
Tom Thursby, a graduate of the Uni
versity of Virginia, who had come'out
to Tennessee to practice law. Some
called him "Mad" Thureby, but wheth
er that was because he was crack
brained or insisted In doing things as
no one else would do them is a ques
tion. ' "I thiuk," said Thursby musingly,
Bippiug his julep, "that I shall shoot on
Hiss Woodbridge's estate."
"What!" exclaimed one of the group.
"Trespass on the estate of a young
lady?"
; "Xo; I shall gain her permission." j
i "sne nas already rerused it to otn
ers; she can't consistently give it to
"MAT I 1U A BOOXf"
yon. What Influence do yen propose
to bring to bear upon Iter 7
-None,"
"Do you know her?"
"No; I have never seen her."
I -Very well; I'll bet yon $50 you dont
snoot this fall on Miss Woodbridge's
plantation."
f "I take the bet."
The rays of the rising sun were
streaming in through the windows, the
music ceased, and the revelers began to
Itake their departure.
It was about 9 o'clock that Virginia
flVoocbridge was out among her dew
covered flowers none had yet been
nipped by frost when she heard a
trolce behind her,
i "May I beg a boon?"
Turning, she saw a young man
dressed in white satin. His coat, trim
med with gold braid, was cut in the
tashion that we call "clawhammer,"
with two long extensions in rear reach
ing almost to his ankles. From bis
vest escaped a profusion of ruffled
lace. His breeches were tight to the
Bkln and reached only to the knee; his
stockings were silk; bis shoes were or
namented with enormous silver buc
kles. In the hollow of his left arm
was a gun; from his shoulder were sus
pended a shot pouch, a powder flask
and a game bag. As to head covering,
there was none. The figure was bow
ing low before her with bis right band
on bis heart.
The first iiloa Mi.'-s Woodbridge had
ef this filiiirular apparition was that he
rwas supernatural: the next, that she
rwas confronted by a lunatic.
"I have called," said the visitor, "to
ek your kind permission to shoot a
Jew birds on your plantation."
It occurred to the lady that to refuse
the man would be tantamount to an in
vitation to shoot her. No man in his
senses would go hunting in sucn cos
tume, and, although this ioor dement
ed creature looked harmless enough. It
was Impossible to say tlxit a refusal
TouM not rouse hlin.
"Certainly," she hurried to say as
feoon as she could gain speech. "Hunt
ell over the plantation."
The lunatic bowed again, thanked
4ier for her kindness and strode away.
;As for Miss Woodbridge. as soon as
ibis back was turned she darted into
line house aDd locked the Coot behind
3ier. Then when she was sufficiently
(recovered she sect for her overseer.
tnM him iaw bv twr nrMMW of mind
she had saved herself from being shot!
. , . . i j, , V. I ... . ...... ,1 I
vy R IimauL' uuu ourcn-u uiui iu oniu
to the Insane asylum, a short distance
sojith of her estate, and ask them to
send at once and capture the lunatic.
Uy this time a perpetual -bang" was
beard without. A darky rushed in and
began to talk with eyes wide opened.
"Missy Ginnie, dere's a ha'nt down
in do meddor kllliu' all de bobwhlte.
;ie dressed like a ghost, all in white,
with stars and things ou he breast.
Whir all gwine to do'"
"For heaven's sake, dou't try to stop
him," said the mistress. "If you do
he'll kill you."
"Oh, no. I'm not gwine to stop him.
As soon as I sor him I run like de
debbil was after me. Ebcry time he
shoot, down conies a thousand quail.''
"Never mind the quail. I dou't care
how many be kills If he doesn't kill
any one else before we can get rid of
him."
At this juncture the housekeeper en
tered the room aud asked what was
the matter. When Informed of the
facts she smiled and said:
"I saw your lunatic go by my win
dow. He's Tom Thursby, that Virginia
scapegrace."
"And sane?" aske-J Mls Woodbridge.
"Perfectly."
"Then why appear here in such cos
tume and ask permission to hunt?"
"I don't know. There was a mas
querade ball in the city last night, and
not an' hour ago I saw some of the
masqueraders rolling along in their
carriages ou their way home. Perhaps
Mr. Thursby was one of them and
took a fancy to do some shooting."
"But why in such costume?"
"No one knows what Tom Thursby
will do. He's singular. But I have
heard he is very bright. He'll prob
ably break bis neck some day riding
across country. He's a terrible man
on horseback." ' j
"That would be a pity." said Miss
Woodbridge sympathetically "he's so
handsome."
Whether the lady meant that It did
not matter if homely men broke their
necks is not of importance to this
story. The order to send to the asylum
was countermanded, and Mr. Thursby
was permitted to bang away till mid
day, when he came to the house with
a bagful of quail and asked to see
the mistress. She met him, vainly en
deavoring to suppress a smile.
"I have only killed these birds," he
said, ?for the pleasure of the hunt. I
leave them for their rightful owner."
"You are Mr. Thursby, I believe,
from Virginia."
"I am, and at your service." A low
bow.
"That you may not think we Tennes
seeans less hospitable than the people
of the Old Dominion I will ask you'to
remain for a dinner on the birds you
have shot"
"That will certainly be an honor as
well as a pleasure." Another bow.
Miss Woodbridge entertained Mr.
Thursby till the quails were cooked
and the repast was announced. Then
she took his arm, and they went into
the dining room. Never a smile cross
ed Mr. Thursby's face. His hostess
said nothing about having mistaken
him for a lunatic, and be made no
reference to his fantastic dress.
The servants on the plantation either
had not heard the explanation as to
the guest's habiliments, or, If they
had, it made little impression on them.
The opinion among them gained ground
that he was a ha'nt, though many of
them declared that he was ; lunatic,
The braver of the colored children
flattened their nos& against the din
ing room window paces to observe the
specter. Aunt Eunice,who hadT been
Virginia Woodbridge's 4"roamnsy," was
very mncb disturbed.
"Wha to' yo niggers let yo mist ess
alone wid dat lunaticker to'V she
asked the men. "Yo" gwine let him
shoot herr
At this white headed Uncle Peter
went off and returned with his gun
and said he was "gwine to tyver de
ha'nt." Miss Woodbridge, while dis
secting a quail, discovered him stand
ing in the doorway leveling a shotgun
at her guest
"For heaven's sake, Uncle Peter,
what are yon going to doT- Don't
shoot!"
"Don' yo' bodder. Missy Ginnie. I
got de drop on him."
"Oh, that's nothing," said Thursby.
"I've seen him for some time. - It
hasn't spoiled my appetite."
And he helped himself to another
quail.
Uncle Peter was finally persuaded-to
go away with his gun, and the meal
proceeded. Then when it was finished
Miss Woodbridge and her singular
guest spent some time together 1n the
drawing room, after which the guest
departed.
Miss WoodbrMge was so well pleas-.
ed with Mr. Thursby that she deeply
regretted he was so freaky. But when
the next day she received from him
several dozen pairs of gloves, with a
letter stating that her leniency with
hiui had enabled blm to win a bet that
he would shoot with her permission on
her plantation, she did not consider
him so freaky after nil. Indeed, she
considered hlin very clever.
After this Mr. Thursby continued his
mad pranks at horsemanship and oth
er rVats. devoted lilmseir to JIiss
Woodbridge and practiced law. His
associates were divided as to whether
he were really crack brained or very
clever till he won an Important suit
by an expedient similar to the one by
which he had won permission to shoot
on the WoodbridfK premises. From
that time forward nl! agreed that if
be wen? mad there was a lot of meth
od in bis madnass.
This Impfessirm continued to grow
till It was concluded by the people of
Mr. Thursby's section that they had
better send him to represent them In
The White
Spruce
It Brought Barbara and the
Young Forester Together.
By CLARISSA MACKIE.
Copyright, 1310. by American Press
Association.
Barbara Owen parted the flaps of
the tent and drank in with delighted
eyes the scene before her. The little
camp perched almost on the edge of
the precipice commanded a umgulll
cent view of the snow topped Cascade
range blushing under the first rays of
the rising sun.
Barbara went to another tent and
called her father. He replied' by a
yawn, followed by a racking cough.
Then she hastened to a third tent and
prepared breakfast.
Presently James Owen came forth.
"Hungry as a bear, Bab," he said.
"The very smell of that coffee makes
me feel ten years younger!"
"I wish the taste of It would make
you feel ten times better," said Bar
bara as she placed the meal on the
table.
, Barbara chatted brightly during the
meal and when it was over completed
her household tasks, and, leaving her
father swinging in a hammock among
the trees with a book between his thin
fingers, she disappeared in the forest.
The path she trod was faintly de
fined by disturbed brown needles, and
it followed a course marked by high
branched trees, winding in and out.
skirting a thicket of dwarfed spruce
or leading over a roughly bridged gully
to a broad wagon trail.
Before she reached the wagon trail
Barbara turned abruptly to the left.
Here a giant spruce lifted a naked
white shaft high above the surround
ing trees of the forest
crowding about the spruce was a
thicket of young hemlock, ragged and
starved for want of light and air.
There were an opening in the thicket
and a low mound covered with brown
needles. Dry eyed and tearless, Bar
bara sat down in the dimness and tried
to face a future that was ominously
near a future when her father should
be laid beside her mother in another
grave under the tall spruce.
A branch crackled under a firm tread
and then another. A man's low whls:
tie cam nearer to Barbara's retreat,
and presently the man himself came
into view among the distant tree
trunks. Clad in brown khaki, like her
self, with leather puttees, blue flannel
shirt open at a strong brown throat
and a canvas hat tossed back on
rumpled head, Barbara recognized the
young man as one of the foresters pa
trolling tne governments forest re
serve wherein their camp was pitched,
She bad met these men occasionally
along the wagon trail, and her father
had fallen into conversation with one
of the sturdy, bronzed woodsmen and
afterward had spoken enthusiastically
of the splendid work In which they
were engaged.
Barbara watched him with Interest,
confident that he would not penetrate
Into the thicket
When he came to the. spruce he stop
ped suddenly, leaned back and squint
ed his eyes at thjs white shaft above
his head. He knelt down and exam
ined the jonnghemloks and once
more urew out nis noieoooK. , uarDa
ra, silent and brown, blending with the
background of brown trunks, was nn
observed until the forester drew his
hatchet and cut a deep incision In the
spruce tree. The girl was on her feet
In an instant
"Stop!" she cried. "Don't do that."
The man started and peered as If
some brown wood fairy had arisen be
fore his bewildered eyes. Barbara
laughed shakily.
It sounds like a school oration,
'Woodman, spare that tree;' but you
see, my mother is buried here and
and the tree marks her grave."
The man bad removed, his hat. and
looked at her with respectful attention.
Barbara noted that he was young, per
haps thirty, with a crop of thick, sun
burned hair and a handsome, well tan
ned face lighted by keen dark eyes.
"I am very sorry." He hesitated. "I
would not do anything to pain you;
but you see, It Is my duty to take
care of the forest For the safety of
the other and younger trees this dead
spruce should come down."
' Barbara's eyes filled with tears as
she bowed her head against the white
trunk of the spruce. "We thought it
would be quite undisturbed here in
the forest," she sobbed. "There are
only three of us mother here she
died suddenly; father, back at the
camp, where he is trying to regain his
health in the open, and I. I dare not
tell father about the tree: He loves
to come here when he Is strong enough.
The,trees sing overhead"
The forester stepped forward and
placed a finger on her sleeve. "Flense
do not cry," he said awkwardly. "Will
you trust me to respect this little spot
in the forest and yet do my duty to
my employer?'
Barbara looked at his steady eyes
and the friendly smile on bis clean
cut mouth. "Yes," she said slowly;
"I will trust you."
"Will yon give me your mother's
name ninl the date of her birth and
death?" be asked, pulling his notebook
out
Barbara
Puzzled and a little curious
gave hlui the desired information and,
with a word of thanks, turned away.
"One week from today you may
come again." said the forester gravely.
"Thank you." said Barbara once
more, and then she stepped lightly
Washington, and be was elected to
congress. He took Mies. Woodbridge "' the trail and was gone,
with blm. It wis a long week for
Barbara
Owen. Her father's health Improved
for the time, and he was anxious to
walk In the forest and visit his wife's
grave. Barbara Invented a dozen ex
cuses to keep him away from the
white spruce.
Seven mornings she saw the reflec
tion of the rising sun ou the western
mountain snows.
On the seventh day she took her
fnther, and together they walked over
the narrow trail to whore the white
spruce hnd towered. .Tames Owen ut
tered nn astonished cry as he stopped
before his wife's grave. Barbara clung
to his arm, overcome by a strange
emotion. She was clad that the for-
ester was not there to witness it
The stump of the white spruce arose
like a five foot shaft of marble; the
bark had been planed off until the
wood showed white ns satin aud as
smooth; the top was rounded, and on
the flattened side of the stump a hot
Iron had burned a brief epitaph above
Mrs. Owen's resting place. The young
hemlocks had been thinned out nntll
they formed a green semicircle about
the white shaft
"Who has done this Y' asked Owen
hjjsklly.
Barbara told him In a few words
of her meeting with the young for
ester, and after awhile the two walked
.over to the wagon trail In the direc
tion of the metallic ax blows.
He saw them coming and came to
meet them. "I am glad yon liked it."
he said simply in response to Mr.
Owen's warm thanks. "It was better
that we should remove the tree in a
shipshape manner than permit it to
fall of Its own accord."
"But the work you did on the stump,
young man It was more than kind of
you; we are deeply, grateful."
"I had a mother once myself," he re
plied soberly.
"Come over to the camp and see us,
Mr." said Owen suggestively.
"My name's Charter Benjamin
Charter," said the forester quickly.
"You are very kind; I shall be glad to
come."
After that day James Owen im
proved rapidly. There would never be
hope of his complete recovery, but a
return to even moderate health was an
encouragement to his only child. They
walked through the woods to the lit
tle hemlock circle and felt that here
was a spot they might call their own
forever.
Their walks often included a search
for the foresters engaged in their In
terestlng work of conserving the na
tlve trees and guarding against en
croac'ilng lumbermen or wandering
flocks of sheep or devastating herds of
cattle.
Benjamin Charter came to the camp
and proved an entertaining compan
ion for father and daughter. He play
ed cards with Mr. Owen or rend to the
Invalid the week old newspapers that
came their way. ne brought his vio
lin, and Barbara drank in the wonder
ful melodies woven by the brown fin
gers and the flashing bow.
The snow caps on the mountains be
came a little smaller as the season ad
vanced; the dry air was warmer and
seemed to give new life to the sick
man. Barbara's eyes had a new light
in them, and Benjamin Charter's fin
gers trembled when he played the vio
lin. Then one day Barbara and her fa
ther walked in the forest They had
gone along the wagon trail and were
drawing near the - working foresters.
There was. a sound of blows on wood,
a silence and then a crashing tearing
sound close at hand.. Somebody shout
ed wlldly.and- pushed Bsrbara'and her
father out of harm's way, somebody
Who - was too late himself to spring
from under the falling tree and so was
caught "beneath the weight of heavy
rcsn branches.
A tree had fallen In an unexpected
direction, and Benjamin Charter!
quickness had probably saved Mr.
Owen and bis daughter from injury, If
not death. When the tree was re
moved by the score of laborers that
sprang into new cnarter was quit
unconscious.
He was carried Into the camp on the
precipice, and on of the men rod
madly away to the distant settlement
for a doctor. In the meantime Bar
bara and ber father did what they
could. The forester opened his eyes
upon their anxious faces. -.;.!
"Xf- am !. mil r snfaM ha nl1
feebly.
"You saved my worthless life and
Barbara's precious one," said Owen
brokenly." "I wish I could reward you.
Charter. You have been a friend In
deed to me."
"I wish you would give me Bar
bara," said Charter, with more
strength. "I haven't got very much,
but I can take enre of ber and make
her comfortable."
"What do you say, Bab?" asked her
father. .
Barbara's face, bent above the in
jured man's, was sufficient answer.
You needn t wait till I'm gone to
be happy," suggested Mr. Owen after
the doctor had come and pronounced
Charter's injuries to he slight more
painful than dangerous. "You can get
married as soon as you are well
enough to bobble around and find a
minister.",
"Thai you. sir," said Charter. Ills
arm was about Barbara as she knelt
beside his cot
"I suppose you know who you're
marrying," resumed Owen, with a
twinkle In his eyes.
Barbara Owen, the sweetest girl in
he world." returned Charter prompt
ly.
O'W'n lnuzhed softly. "Earbnrn
Owen, daughter of James Herkimer
Owen, the copper king," be said dry
ly.
"I can't leave the forest." said the
forester when be bad recovered from
bis surprise.
"And I don't wsnt to leave It," snid
Barbara happily.
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