Jack and His Seven Foes — page 146: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ee ee PT ee ee © a — ea —s% ~ = ~~ — roe He’s not to and silver, but tell him tea is ready. _ dawdle over the quartz ~ to come at once. — “Just like ’em,” she continued, as Jack left the kitchen. ‘“ They come and go, and forget you. Never trust a ah — JACK AND HIS SEVEN FOES. 1387 man, Annie. Only one true man ever lived, and that is your father. Don’t trust them.” Annie neither moved nor spoke, but the tear that had been lingering under her long lashes fell upon her cheek, BPV IM PA PD EP OD PV EOI 17 1 ID >} CY ODA OR LM Cr tr KILO CHAPTER LIV. A LAST MEETING, AND A SAD PARTING—THE SETTLER RECEIVES A MESSAGE. “ Must you go, Jack?” ‘ Yes,”’ dear Annie.”’ “ And is it true that you do not know how long you will be away ?” “ Quite true.” They stood outside the house, with the light of the moon upon their young faces—a pretty pair. Around them the busy life outside had ceased. Only the engine in the crushing-room was pounding and thumping away. They were as good as alone in the vast solitude of the wilderness. Annie was silent for a few moments, and he stood watching the face that she tried to control. Quietly he took her hand, and put his arm about her waist. ‘Annie,’ he said, ‘only the one thing that I go upon could take me from ou.” ‘ And will you not tell me what it is ?’’ she asked. “Not until it is done,’’ he answered. “Then I will come back and tell you all. You shall then judge me.” “No,” she said, ‘‘ I have no right.”’ “We have been very happy here, Annie.” ‘Very happy,’ she echoed. “< And the time has flown swiftly. is a year since I met your father.”’ ‘¢ And saved his life.” It those skunks of Indians without me.”’ “He says not,’ said Annie; ‘there were a dozen at least—his horse was | killed, and he was down.” “Well, let that pass,” said Jack. _ “ Annie, I want you to think kindly of > me, =i to trust me. If IJ never return to you—” «As you may not.” « As I may not—lI shall be dead.” ‘No, indeed; he would have settled | he asked; | a low tone; She glanced up quickly, with a new | terror in her face, and clasped his arm with her small hands. “ Jack,’ she cried, ‘‘ where are you going?” «To avenge the foul murder of my dear father and brother,” he replied, with a proud, determined look in his face. ‘No, Annie, you must not seck to turn me away—” “But, Jack, why did you not tell us before? Who is it you are going against P My father will help you.’ “Beyond outside help, I will have no aid,’ said Jack. my enemies to book!” “Your enemies!” she said; ‘“ then there are more than one, dear J sok eee “Walk with me,” he said, ‘“‘and I will tell you my story. I feel I cannot longer withhold it from you.” They turned from the open space, and sauntered to the wood. There, in its gloomy shades, he told his story, with all the passion and pathos that lay in him. As he narrated the awful crimes which had deprived him of a father and a brother, he lived in the scenes again, and he carried Annie with him. All her womanly sympathies were aroused, and when he finished, she was as pale and resolute as he. “ Now what would you have me do?” “tell me, Annie.” “ Go on to the end,” she answered, in “spare none. This is a land of rough justice. Without it the murderer would go free.” “T have learned to love you,’ he said, ‘and I have perhaps faltered a little by the way. But now, Annie, I am strong again. My darling, we must part here.” “So soon, Jack? “At once. I ie already taken “Alone I will bring. cS Gomicdoo (E©)