New Ulm Enterprise (New Ulm, Tex.), Vol. 6, No. 12, Ed. 1 Friday, December 10, 1915 Page: 3 of 8
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NEW ULM ENTERPRISE, NEW ULM, TEXAS
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RANDALL PARRISH II
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SYNOPSIS.
Confederate Sergeant Wyatt of the
fitaunton artillery is sent as a spy to his
native county on the Green Briar by Gen-
eral Jackson. Wyatt meets a mountaineer
named Jem Taylor. They ride together to
a house beyond Hot Springs. In the house
Wyatt and Taylor meet Major Harwood,
father of Noreen and an old neighbor of
Wyatt, who is sent to bed while the two
other men talk. Wyatt becomes suspi-
cious, and finds that Taylor has murdered
Harwood and escaped. Wyatt changes to
the U. S. cavalry uniform he has with
him, and rides away in the night, running
Into a detachment of Federal cavalry, to
Whom he identifies himself as Lieutenant
Haymond, Third U. S. cavalry, by means
-of papers with which he has been pro-
vided. Captain Fox finds Harwood’s body
and follows Taylor’s trail. Fox and Wyatt
believe Taylor to be old Ned Cowan. The
detachment is ambushed. Wyatt escapes
to the Green Briar country and goes to
Harwood’s apparently deserted home.
CHAPTER VI.
The Mistress of the House.
I stood with ear pressed against the
panel, fingers gripping the butt of my
revolver. An ordinary latch held the
door closed, and I pressed this, open-
ing the barrier slightly. The move-
ment made not the slightest noise, and
gave me a glimpse within.
In front of a small grate fire, her
back toward me, snuggled comfortably
•down in the depths of an easy chair,
•sat a woman reading. I could see little
of her because of the high back of the
■chair rising between us—only a mass
of dark brown hair, a smooth, rounded
cheek, and the small ■white hand rest-
ing on the chair arm. I knewr vaguely
her waist was white, her skirt gray,
and, i saw the glimmer of a pearl-
itaddled pistol lying on a closed chest
at her side. Still she was only a
woman, a mere girl apparently, whom
I had no cause to fear. The sudden
reaction caused me to smile with re-
lief, and to return my revolver silent-
ly to the belt. Her eyes remained on
the page of the book. I think I
would have withdrawn without a word,
but, at that instant, a draft from the
open door flickered her light, and she
glanced about seeking the cause. I
caught the startled expression in her
eyes as she first perceived my shadow;
the book fell to the floor, her hand
gripping the pistol, even as she arose
hastily to her feet. The light was
on her face, and I knew her to be
Noreen Harwood.
“Who are you? Why are you here?”
she asked tersely, a tremor in the
voice, but no shrinking in those eyes
that looked straight at me.
I moved forward from out of the
shadow into the radius of light. It
was only a step, but the girl recoiled
slightly, the pearl-handled pistol ris-
ing instantly to a level with my eyes.
“Stand where you are!” she ordered.
“"What are you doing, creeping about
this house in the dark?”
“Not in the dark exactly,” I an-
swered, seeking to relieve the strain,
and holding my hat in one hand, as I
bowed gravely, “for my lamp is on
the stairs.”
I marked the quick change of ex-
pression in her eyes as they swept
over me. There was no evidence of
recognition; scarcely more than a faint
acknowledgment that my appearance
was not entirely unfavorable. Yet
surely that alone was all I could hope
for. Except for that one chance en-
counter on the road we had never met
since we were children, and she would
not likely associate the son of Judge
Wyatt with the man now confronting
her, attired in the wet and muddy uni-
form of a Federal lieutenant. Indeed
it was better she should not; and a
feeling of relief swept over me as I
realized her failure to connect me with
the past. No memory of my features
found expression in her face, as her
-eyes fell from mine to the clothes 1
wore.
“You are Union? an officer of—of
cavalry? I—can scarcely comprehend
why you should be here.” Her atti-
tude no longer threatening, the gleam-
ing pistol lowered. “There are Federal
troops at Lewisburg, but—but I do
not recall your face.”
"My being here is wholly an acci-
dent,” I explained quietly. “I supposed
the house deserted, and sought en-
trance to get away from the storm.
There was a broken window—”
"Yes,” she interrupted, her eyes
again on mine questloningly. “I found
that when I came; someone had
broken In."
“Robbery, no doubt.”
“I am not sure as to that. I have
found nothing of any value missing.
Indeed we left nothing here to attract
vandals.” She hesitated, as though
doubtful of the propriety of further ex-
planation to a stranger. “I—I belong
hSre,” she added simply. “This is my
home.”
“Yes; I supposed as much; you are
Miss Noreen Harwood?”
H&r blue eyes widened, her hand
grasping more tightly the back of the
chair.
“Yes,” she admitted. “You knew my
father?”
“Slightly; enough to be aware of the
existence of his daughter, and that this
was his plantation.”
“Then you must be connected with
the garrison at Charleston?"
“No, Miss Harwood; I belong to the
Army of the Potomac, and am here
only on recruiting service. A word of
explanation will make the situation
clear, and I trust may serve to win
your confidence.- I do not have the ap-
pearance of a villain, do I?”
“No, or I should not remain, parley-
ing with you,” she responded gravely.
“The war has taught even the women
of this section the lesson of self-pro-
tection. I am not at all afraid, or I
should not be here alone.”
“It surprises me, however, that
Major Harwood should consent to your
remaining—”
“He has not consented,” she inter-
rupted. “I am supposed to be safely
lodged with friends in Lewisburg, but
rode out here this afternoon to see
the condition of our property. Word
The Book Fell to the Floor, Her Hand
Gripping the Pistol.
came to me that the house had been
entered. The servants have all gone,
and we were obliged to leave it unoc-
cupied. I was delayed, seeking to dis-
cover what damage the vandals had
done, and then suddenly the storm
broke, and I thought it better to re-
main until morning.”
She laughed, as though amused at
her own frankness of speech.
“There, I have told you all my story,
without even waiting to hear yours.
'Tis a woman’s way, if her impulse be
sufficiently strong.”
“You mean faith in the other party?”
“Of course; one cannot be conven-
tional in wartimes, and there is no one
here to properly introduce us, even if
that formality was desired. So I must
accept you on trust.”
“My uniform alone should be suffi-
cient guarantee.”
She laughed; her eyes sparkling.
“Well, hardly. I Imagine you fail to
comprehend its really disreputable
condition. But—well, you—you look
like an officer and a gentleman."
“For which compliment I sincerely
thank you. However, Miss Harwood,
my story can be quickly told. I am a
lieutenant, Third United States cav-
alry—see, the numeral is on my hat—
attached to Heitzelman’s command,
now at Fairfax Court House. I have
recently been detailed to the recruit-
ing service, and ordered to this sec-
tion.”
I found It strangely difficult, front-
ing her calm look of Insistence, to go
on. But there was no way of escape.
Beyond doubt the sympathy of this
girl was with the cause of the North,
and if I were to confess myself Tom-
Wyatt, and a Confederate spy, all hope
of the success of my mission would be
immediately ended. Besides I lacked
the will to forfeit her esteem—to per-
mit her confidence In me to become
changed into suspicion.
“Then I will go on,” i said more
slowly, endeavoring better to arrange
my story. “I picked up a guide at
Fayette, but the officer in command
there could spare no escort. The man
who went with me must have been a
traitor, for he guided me south into
the Green Briar mountains. Last night
at dusk we rode into a camp of guer-
rillas.”
"Who commanded them? Did you
learn?”
“A gray-headed, seamed-faced moun-
taineer, they called Cowan.”
She emitted a quick breath, between
closely pressed lips.
“You know the man?” I asked.
“Yes; old Ned Cowan; he lived over
yonder, east of here in the foothills.
He and—and my father had some trou-
ble before the war. He—he is vin-
dictive and dangerous.” She stopped,
her glance sweeping about the room.
“I—I have some reason to suspect,”
she added, as if half doubting whether
she ought to speak the word, "ftiat
either he, or one of his men, broke in
here.”
“In search of something?”
“A paper; yes—a deed. Of course
I may be mistaken; only It is not to be
found. The desk in. the library was
rifled, and its contents scattered over
the floor when I came. I put them
back in place, but found nothing of
value among those that remained. My
father must have removed those of im-
portance.
“Possibly he carried them with
him?”
She leaned her head on her hand,
her eyes thoughtful. ®
“I think he once told me they were
left in charge of a banker at Charles-
ton—an old friend. It would be too
dangerous to carry them about with
him in the field. You see I do not
know very much about his affairs,”
she explained. “I was away at school
when the war broke out, and we have
only met briefly since. My father did
not talk freely of his personal matters
even to me. I learned of his feud with
Cowan by accident.”
“It was a feud then?”
“On one side at least. My father
was shot at, and several of our out-
houses burned. The trouble arose
over the title to property. Cowan,”
she explained, “was a squatter on land
which had belonged to our family ever
since my grandfather first settled here.
We had title from Virginia, but the
tract granted had never been properly
surveyed. My father had it done, and
discovered that Ned Cowan and two of
his sons occupied a part of our land
with no legal right.”
Her eyes uplifted to my face, and
then fell again, one hand opening and
closing on the back of the chair. She
laughed pleasantly.
“I hardly know why I am telling you
all this family history,” she continued
almost in apology. “It is as if I talked
to an old friend who was naturally in-
terested in our affairs.”
“Perhaps the manner of our meeting
accounts for it,” I ventured. “But
truly I am more deeply interested than
you Imagine. It may prove of mutual
advantage for me to know the facts.
Did Major Harwood try to force them
from his land?"
“Oh, no,” hastily, “my father had no
such thought. He tried to help them
to purchase the property at a very
small price, and on long time. His
intention was to aid them, but he
found himself unable to convince either
father or sons of his real purpose. They
either could not, or would not, under-
stand. Do you realize the reckless,
lawless nature of these mountain
men?”
“Yes, to some extent; they trust no
one.”
"That was the whole trouble. Seem-
ingly they possessed but one idea—
that if my father was killed they could
remain where they were indefinitely.
Their single instinct was to fight it out
with rifles. They refused to either
purchase or leave.”
There was silence, as though she
had finished. She had seated herself
on the wide arm of the chair, still fac-
ing me, and I could- hear the rain beat-
ing hard against the side of the house.
Suddenly she looked up into my face.
"How odd that I should talk to you
so freely,” she exclaimed. “Why I do
not even know your name.”
"Charles H. Raymond.”
I could not be certain that the ex-
pression of her eyes changed, for they
suddenly looked away from me, and
she stood again upon her feet.
“Raymond, you say!” the slightest
hardening of tone apparent, "on re-
cruiting service from the Army of the
Potomac?” She drew a quick breath.
“I—I think I have heard the name be-
fore. Would you mind If I did ask to
see your orders?”
“Not In the least,” I answered, not
wholly surprised that she should have
heard of the other, and confident the
papers I bore would be properly exe-
cuted. “I prefer that you have no
doubt as to my Identity."
She took them, and I noted a slight
trembling of her hands as she held the
paper open in her fingers, her eyes
glancing swiftly down the written
lines.
“I have become quite a soldier of.
late,” she said, and handed the pack-
age back to me. “And I cannot doubt
your credentials. I am very glad to
meet you. Lieutenant Raymond,” and
she held out her hand cordially. "As
I have admitted already, I am Noreen
Harwood.”
"Whom I shall only be delighted to
serve in any manner possible,” I re-
plied gallantly, relieved that she was
so easily convinced.
“Oh, I think the service is more
likely to be mine. You confessed you
I Noted a Slight Trembling of Her
Hands as She Held the Paper Open
in Her Fingers.
broke' in here seeking after food and a
fire. Down below we may find both,
and it will be my pleasure thus to
serve a Federal officer. You have a
lamp without?”
“On the stairs?”
She led the way like a mistress in
her own home, and I followed. There
was a force of character about the girl
not to be ignored. She chose to treat
me as a guest, uninvited, but none the
less welcome, a position I was not re-
luctant to accept. I held the lamp as
we went down the stairs together, the
rays of light pressing aside the cur-
tain of darkness.
CHAPTER VII. r~
Parson Nichols.
She put aside laughingly my sug-
gestion of assistance. The fire in the
grate burst into blaze, and her hands
were busily rearranging the table.
“With no servants left, and the
house unoccupied for months,” she ex-
plained, “I shall have to give you sol-
dier fare, and, perhaps, not very much
of that. Pardon my not joining in the
feast, as I have only just eaten.”
She drew up a chair opposite to
where I sat, supporting her chin in
her hands. The light between us illu-
mined her face, outlining it clearly
against the gloom of the wall behind.
It was a young face, almost girlish in
a way, although there was a grave,
strong look to the eyes, and womanly
firmness about lips and chin. I had
seen so little of her in the days gone
by. And here I found her a woman—a
woman of charm, of rare beauty even;
sw’eet and wholesome in look, her
cheeks aglow with health, her eyes
deep wells of mystery and promise.
Her father! I dare not tell her of
his death, of his dastardly murder. It
was strange she had not recognized
me, yet probably the real truth was
that she had never before observed
me with any care or interest—consid-
ering me a mere boy to be laughed at
and forgotten. I was only a stranger
entering into her life for the first time.
This expression was in the eyes sur-
veying me as I ate—quiet, earnest
eyes, utterly devoid of suspicion.
"You are a very young man,” she
said simply.
"Not seriously so,” I answered,
rather inclined to resent the charge.
“I am twenty-four.”
“You look like a boy I used to know
—only his eyes were darker, and he
had long hair.”
“Indeed!” I caught my breath
quickly, yet held my eyes firm. “Some-
one living about here?”
“Yes; his name was Wyatt. I never
knew him very well, only you recalled
him to memory in some way. He and
his mother went South when the war
first broke out. Where was your
home?”
“In Burlington, Vermont.”
"You are a regular soldier?"
“I was a junior at West Point last
year; we were graduated ahead of
our class."
Her eyes fell, the lashes outlined on
her cheeks, her hands clasped on the
table.
“Isn't that odd!” she said quietly.
“Do you know Mme. Hactell’s school
for young ladies at Compton on the
Hudson? That is where papa sent me,
and I was at the senior hop at West
Point a year ago last June. A half
dozen of us girls went up; Fred Carl-
ton of Charleston was in that class,
and he invited me. You knew him, of
course?”
' (TO BE CONTINUED.)
Profitable
— Habit =■
Keeping daily watch on
THE APPETITE
THE DIGESTION
THE LIVER AND
THE BOWELS
At the first sign of trouble resort to
HOSTETTER’S
Stomach Bitters
It helps Nature restore normal
conditions throughout the system.
Nearly every woman is accommodat-
ing to the extent that if a man is a
little slow in proposing she will do it
for him.
AVOID A DOCTOR’S BILL
on the first of the month by taking
now a bottle of Mansfield Cough Bal-
sam for that hacking, hollow cough.
Price 25c and 50c.—Adv.
The Result.
“When you asked his permission to
marry your daughter, was the old man
put out?”
“No, but I was.”
Still a Lease on Life.
The Cook—Sir! Sir!! There’s a
Zep’lin outside and if you don’t come
wi’ the keys of the cellar, we’ll all be
in—in—heaven in a couple of min-
utes!
The Curate—God forbid!—London
Opinion.
Operatic Item.
“I understand that a two-headed calf
was born in this neighborhood a few
weeks ago?”
“You betcha!” triumphantly replied
the landlord of the Petunia tavern.-
“And the feller that owns it expects to
make a fortune in the op’ry business
showing it around at the fairs next
fall in a tent.”
A Friend in Need.
Miss Dolly Dutton, a maid of four,
started to bring from a grocery store
a basket of eggs for mamma to make
a beautiful frosted birthday cake.
Swinging the basket to and fro, trip-
ping along, she stumped her toe;
the broken eggs lay on the sand. A
little playmate, seeing the wreck,
cried: “Now you’ll get it in the neck!”
“Oh, I’m not afraid,” laughed Dolly
D. “Grandma won’t let ’em impose on
me.”
HARD TO DROP
But Many Drop It.
A young Calif, wife talks about cof-
fee:
"It wras hard to drop Mocha and
Java and give Postum a trial, but my
nerves were so shattered that I was a
nervous wreck and of course that
means all kinds of ails.
"I did not want to acknowledge cof-
fee caused the trouble for I was very
fond of it. At that time a friend
came to live with us, and I noticed
that after he had been with us a week
he would not drink his coffee any
more. I asked him the reason. He
replied: ‘I have not had a headache
since I left off drinking coffee, some
months ago, till last week, when I be-
gan again here at your table. I don’t
see how anyone can like coffee, any-
way, after drinking Postum!’
“I said nothing, but at once ordered
a package of Postum. That was five
months ago, and we have drank no
coffee since, except on two occasions
when we had company, and the result
each time was that my husband could
not sleep, but lay awake and tossed
and talked half the night. We were
convinced that coffee caused bis suf-
fering, so he returned to Postum, con-
vinced that coffee was an enemy, in-
stead of a friend, and he is troubled
no more by Insomnia.
“I have gained 8 pounds in weight,
and my nerves have ceased to quiver.
It seems so easy now to quit coffee
that caused our aches and ails and
take up Postum.” Name given by
Postum Co., Battle Creek, Mich.
Postum comes in two forms:
Postum Cereal—the original form—
must be well boiled. 15c and 25c pack-
ages.
Instant Postum—a soluble powder—
dissolves quickly in a cup of hot
water, and, with cream and sugar,
makes a delicious beverage Instantly.
30c and 50c tins.
Both kinds are equally delicious, and
cost about the same per cup.
“There’s a Reason” for Postum.
—sold by Grocers.
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Glaeser, Edwin. New Ulm Enterprise (New Ulm, Tex.), Vol. 6, No. 12, Ed. 1 Friday, December 10, 1915, newspaper, December 10, 1915; New Ulm, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth1193552/m1/3/: accessed July 18, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Nesbitt Memorial Library.