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DEMOCRATIC TICKET.
STATE.
Judge of Supreme Court,
Samuel G. Thompson Philadelphia
Frank C. Osbourn Allegheny
COUNTY.
Treasurer,
Roger McGnrry Wilkcs-Barro
Register of Wills,
Stanley Davenport Plymouth
Controller,
James W. Ray White Haven
Commissioners,
Thomas M. Dullard Wilkes-Bnrre
Thomas McGraw Reach llaven
Auditors,
W. E. Bennett Wilkes-Banc
John F. Neary Pittston
FREEI.AND, PA., OCTODKR L'li, 1893.
The largest single day's attendance
at the centennial was 217,52G; at
Paris, 397,150; at the World's fair,
on Chicago Day, 757,025. A great
town is Chicago, and all who have not
seen it should get there before next
Tuesday, when the fair closes.
Coming into the world you must
have standing room; going out you
require a place to rest. You can get
both by paying some other fellow for
the privilege. He happened to get
here before you. And this is the
way society interpets the equal rights
of all men to nature's gifts.— Ex.
In Berlin an inventor has succeeded
In devising a moans for insuring a
complete combustion without tho
emission of smoke, and his method
has, on repeated tests, proved so sat
isfactory that two of tho most import
ant steam shipping companies of Ger
many have decided on adapting it to
their steamers.
The race between the English loco
motive, "Queen Empress," and the
American, "No. 909," will take place
early next month on the tracks of the
New York Central, between Buffalo
and A.lbam-. * The drive wheels of the
American locomotive are eighty-six
inches in diameter and those of the
English engine eighty-five.
Senator Sherman went home to bed
and declined to engage in the con
tinuous session of the senate. He is
quoted by the Columbus DLyxitch's
Washington correspondent as assign
ing this reason: "The peoplo of
Ohio elected me senator to represent
them and their state in legislation on
this floor. If they had desired one
for physical endurance they would
have chosen a younger and cheaper
man."
The fact that the last Thursday iu
November is the laet day of the
month, troubles some persons who
aro in doubt whether Thanksgiving
Day will be appointed for the 23d or
30th. The last Thursday has always
been appointed for Thanksgiving Day
and it will undoubtedly be set apart
this year. In 1871, 1870 and 1882
Thanksgiving Day was celebrated on
November 30. It will bo so cele-1
bratod in 1803.
The leading theatrical managers'
throughout the country have deter
mined to entirely abandon show win
dow advertising—that is, the custom
of displaying lithographs of playe s
and scenes from plays in store win
dows. The managers claim the re
sults from this system of advertising
are far from satisfactory and that it
has become practically useless. News
paper advertising, they say, brings by
far the best returns and they will
adopt this method exclusively. These
managers spent a big pile of money
in finding out this simple fact.
It would be very interesting to
know bow much counterfeit silver
coin is in circulation. It would be
more interesting to know how it is
possible to prevent the circulation of
counterfeit coin of like device and
fineness with the dollars turned out
from the mint. The business of
counterfeiting has been made more
respectable since it no longer involves
the necessity of debasement. A pre
mium of 41) per cent, is now the re
ward of the counterfeiter who puts as
much value in his silver coin as there
is in the government coin he imitates.
In the west it is reported that largo
quantities of spurious coin aro in
circulation.
"Orange Blossom," the common-sense
female remedy, draws out pain and
soreness. Sold by Amandus Oswald.
" A fool I am, Pierre, or I'd be in
ould Ireland at this minute, with a
roof o' me own over me and the friends
o' mo youth round me, and brats on
me knee, and the fear o' God in me
heart,"
Thus said Shon McGann to Pretty
Pierre, tho French half-breed, in the
course of a discussion on the prosperity
>f the Pipi Valley.
"Mais, Shon," mockingly rejoined
lie Frenchman, "this is not Ireland,
out there is much like that to be done
lere —there is a roof and there is that
•voinan at Ward's Mistake and the
•>rats—eh, by and by?"
them's face clouded; he hesitated,
then replied sharply: "That woman,
lo y' say, Pierre; she that nursed me
when the Honorablo and meself were
taken out of .Sandy Drift, more dead
than livin'; she that brought me back
to life as good as ever, barrin' this scar
on me forehead and a stiffness at me
elbow, and the Honorable as right as
the sun, more luck to him!—which he
doesn't need at all, with the wind of
Fortune in his back andshiftin' neither
to right nor left! That woman! faith,
y'd better not cut the words so sharp
betuii" yer teeth, Pierre."
"But I will say more—a little —just
the same. She nursed you, yes, that
is good; but it is good also, I think,
you pay her for that aud stop the rest
j Women are fools, or else they are
worse. This one?—she is worse. Yes;
you will take my advice, Slion Mc- |
Oann."
The Irishman canicto his feet with a
spring, and his words were angry.
4 Tt doesn't come well from Pretty
Pierre, the gambler, to be revilin' a
woman, and I throw it in yer lace,
though I've slept under tho same
blanket with ye, an' drank out of the
Ramc cup 011 many a tramp, that you
lie dirty and black when ye spake ill of
—my wife."
This conversation had occurred in a
quiet corner of the barroom of the
Saints' Kcpose. The first few sentences
had not been heard by the other*-
present; but Shon's last speech, deliv
ered in a ringing tone, drew the miners
to their feet, in expectation of seoine
I shots exchanged at once. The code re
quired satisfaction, immediate and de
cisive. Shon was not armed, and some
one thrust a pistoi toward him, but he
did not take it Pierre rose, and, com
ing slowly toward him, laid a slender
finger on his chest and said:
"So! I did not know that she was
your wife. That is a surprise—yes."
The minors nodded assont lie con
tinued:
"Lucy Itivos your wife! Ha, ha,
Shon McUann! that is such a joke."
"It's no joke, but God's truth, and
the lie is with you, Pretty Pierre."
Murmurs of anticipation ran round
the room: but tho Frenchmun said:
' There will be satisfaction altogether;
but it is my whim,to prove what I say
first; then"—fondling his revolver—
"then we shall settle! Hut,* see, you
will m et mo here at ten o'clock tc
"TSH, I (O! 1,1) Kill, YOl\ SIION M'GAKN.
BO KABY! but IT is not my whim."
night, and I will, make it, mon Dibu!
so clear, that tho woman is vile. Yes,
I think."
' The Irishman suddenly clutched
the gambler, shook him like a
dog, and threw him ugainst the
farther wall. Pierre's pistol was
leveled from the instant Shon moved;
but he did not use it Ho rose on one
knee after the violent fall, und point
ing it at the other's head, said coolly:
"I could kill you. Shon McGann, so
*asy! Hut it is not my whim. Till ten
o'clock is not long to wait, and then,
just here, one of us shall die. Is it not
so?"
The Irishman did not flinch before
the pistol. He said with low fierceness:
"At ten o'clock, or now, or any time,
or at any place, ye'll find me ready to
break the back of the lies y've spoken,
or be broken mesclf. Lucy Rives is my
wife, nnd she's true and straight as the
sun in the sky. I'll be here at ten
o'clock, and as ye say, Pierre, one of us
makes the long reckoning for this."
And he opened the door and went out
The Frenchman moved to the bar.
and, throwing down a handful of sil
ver, said: "It is good we drink after so
much heat Come on, come on, racs
amis."
r lhc miners responded to the invita
tion. Their sympathy was mostly
with Shon McGann; their admiration
was about equally divided; for Pretty
Pierre had the quality of courage in as
active degree as the Irishman, and they
j knew that some extraordinary motive
promising greater excitement was be
hind the Frenchman's refusal to send a
bullet through Shon's head a moment
before.
King Kinkley, the best shot in the
Valley next to Pierre, had watched the
unusual development of the incident
with interest; and when his glass had
been filled he said, thoughtfully: "This
isn't according to Hoyle. There's
never been any trouble just like this in
the Valley before. What's that Mc-
Gann said about the lady being bis
wife? If it's the case where hev ve
been in the show? where was we when
the license was around? It isn't good
citizenship, and I hev my doubts."
Another miner, known as the Pres
byterian, ad led: "There's some skul
duggery in it, I guess. The lady has
i had as much protection as if she was
j the sister of every citizen of the place,
jest as ipuch as Lady Jane here [Lady
Jane, the sister of the proprietor of the
Saints' Repose, administered drinks],
and she's played this stacked hand ou
us, haR gone one better on the sly."
"Pierre," snid King Kinkley, "you're
on the track of the secret, and appear
to hov the excess of the lady; blaze it
—blaze it out."
Pierre rejoined: "I know something;
but it is good we wait until ten o'clock.
Then I will show you all the cards in
the pack. Yes, so.'*
And though there was some grum
bling, Pierre had his way. The spirit
of adventure and mutual interest had
thrown the Frenchman, the Irishman,
and the Honorable Just Trafford, to
gether, on the cold side of the Canadian
Rockies; and they had journeyed to
this other side, where the warm breath
from the Pacific passed to its congeal
ing in the ranges. They had come to
the Pipi field when it was languishing.
From the moment of their coming its
luck changed; it became prosperous.
They conquered the Valley each after
his kind. The Honorable—ho was al
.vays called that—mastered its re
sources by a series of "great lucks," as
Pierre termed it, had achieved a for
tune, and made no enemies; and but
two months before the day whose inci
dents are hero recorded, had gone to
the coast on business. Shon had won
the reputation of being a "white man,"
to say nothing of his victories in the
region of gallantry. He made no
wealth; he only got that he might
spend. Irishmanlike he would barter
tho chances of fortune for the lilt of a
voice or the clatter of a pretty foot
Pierre was different "Women, ah,
uo!" he would say; "they make men
;'ools or devils."
Ilis temptation lay not that way.
When the Three first came to the Pipi
Pierre was a miner, simply; but nearly
ill his life he had been something else,
is many a devastated pocket on the
east of tho Rockies could bear witness;
:ud his now career was alien to his
•oul. Temptation grew greatly on him
it the Pipi, and in the days before he
yielded to it ho might have been seen
.it midnight in his hut playing solitaire.
\Vhy he abstained at first from practis
ing his real profession is accounted for
in two ways: he had tasted some of the
weets of honest companionship with
tho Honorable and Shon, and then he
had a memory of an ugly night at Par
lon's Drive a year before, when he
'tood over father's body shot
to death by accident in a gamblingrow
vhich owed its origin to himself. These
hings" hud held him back for a time;
out he was weaker than his ruling
passion.
The Pipi was a young and compara
tively virgin field; the quarry was at
lis hand. He did not love gain for its
nvn sake; it was the game thut en
liralled him. Ho would have played
lis life against the treasury of a king
dom, and, having won it with loaded
loublo sixes, have handed back the
noil as an unredeemable national
lobt
110 fell at last, and in falling con
quered the Pipi Valley; at tho same
tine he was considered a fearless and
iberal citizen, who could shoot as
traight as he played well. He made
in excursion to unother field, however,
it an opportune time, and it was dur
ng this interval that the accident to
hon and the Honorable had occurred,
ilc returned but a few hours before
this quarrel with Shon occurred, and in
he Saints' Repose, whither he had at
>ncc gone, he was told of the accident
While his informant related the inei
ient and the romantic sequence of
Shon's infatuation, the woman passed
the tavern and was pointed out to
Pierre. The Frenchman had not much
•xeitableness in his nature; but when
no saw this beautiful woman with a
touch of the Indian in her contour, his
pule face Hushed, and he showed his set
teeth under his slight moustache. He
watched her until she entered a shop,
>n the signboard of which was written
written since he had left a few
months ago—Lucy Rives, Tobacconist
Shon had then entered the Saints'
Repose; and we know the rest A couple
f hours after this nervous episode, Piere
might have been seen standing in the
hadow of the pines not far from the
house at Ward's Mistake, where, ho had
been told, Lucy Rives lived with an old
Indian woman. He stool, scarcely mov
ing, and smoking cigarettes, until the
ioor opened. Shon came out and walked
ilown the hillside to the town. Then
Pierre went to the door, and, without
knocking, opened it, and entered. A
woman started up from a seat where
she was sewing and turned towards
him. As she did so, the work, Shon's
coat, dropped from her hands, her face
paled, and her eyes filled with fear.
She leaned against a chair for support;
this man's presence had weakened her
40. She stood silent, save for a slight
moan that broke from her lips, as the
Frenchman lighted a cigarette coolly,
and then said to an old Indian woman
who sat upon the floor braiding a
basket: "Get up, Ikni, and go away—
quick."
Ikni rose, came over, and peecd into
the face of the half-breed. Then she
muttered: "I know you—l know you.
The dead has come back again." She
caught his arm with her bony fingers
us if to satisfy herself that he was flesh
and blood, and, shaking her head dole
fully, went from the room. When the
door closed behind her there was a si
lence, broken only by an exclamation
from the man.
The other drew her hand across her
eyes, and dropped it with a motion of
despair. Then Pierre said, sharply:
"Bien?"
"Francois," she replied, "you are
alive."
"Yes, I am alive—quite, Lucy
Rives."
She shuddered, then grew still again
and whispered:
"Why did you let it bo thought that
you were drowned? Why? Oh, why?"
she moaned.
He raised his eyebrow slightly, and
j said, between the puffs of smoke:
"Ah, yes, my Lucy, why? It was
so long ago. Let me see: BO —so —
eight years. Eight years is a long
time, to remember, eh?"
Ue came towards her. She drew
back; but her haadremained ou the
chair. Ho touched the plain gold ring
on her finger, and said:
"Vou will swear it To think of that
so loyal, for a woman! How she re
members, mon Dieu! .... Hut
shall I not kiss you?—yes, just after
eight years—my wife."
She breathed hard and drew back
against the wall, her eyes all dazed
and frightened, and said:
"No, Ro, do not come near me; do
not speak to mo—ah, please, stand
back, for a moment please!"
He shrugged his shoulders slightly,
and continued, with mock tenderness:
"To think that things come round so!
And here you have a home. Yes, that
is good. I am tired of much travel and
life all alone. The prodigal goes not
to the home, the home comes to the
prodigal." He stretched up his arms
as if with a feeling of content
"Do you—do you not know," she
said, "that—that—"
He interrupted her:
"Do I not know, Lucy, that this is
your yome? Yea Hut is it not all the
same? I gave you a home eight years
ago—to think, eight years ago! We
quarreled one night and I left you.
Next morning my boat was found be
low the White Cascade —yes, but that
was so stale a trick. It was not worthy
of Francois Rivea He would do it so
much better now; but he was young
then; just a boy, and foolish. Well,
sit down, Lucy, it is a long story, and
you have much to tell, how much—
who knows?"
She came slowly forward and said,
with a painful effort:
"You did a great wrong, Francois
Hives. You have killed mo."
' Killedyou, Lucy, my wife! Pardon!
Never in those days did you look so
HIIE BREATHED HARD, AND DREW RACK
AGAINST THE WALL
charming as now—never! Hut the
great surprise of seeing your husband,
it has made you shy—yes, quite. There
will be much time to come for you to
change all that It Is quite pleasant
to think on, Lucy. . . . You re
member the song we used to sing on
Hie Chaudiere at St Antoine? See, 1
have not forgotten it—
"'lly a longtemps queje t'aime;
Jamais je ne t'oublierai.'"
He hummed the lines over and over,
watching through his half-shut eyes
the torture he was inflicting.
"Oh, Mother of God," she whispered,
'have mercy! Can you not see, do you
not know? lam not as you have left
me!"
"Yes, my wife, you are just the
Mame; not an hour older. lam glad
that you have come to me. Voila, how
they will envy Pretty Pierre!"
"Envy Pretty—Pierre," she re
peated, in distress; "are you—Pretty
Pierre? Ah, I might have known, 1
might have known!"
"Yes, and sol Is not Pretty Pierre
is good a name as Francois Rives? Is
it not as good as Shon McGann?"
"Oh, I see it all, I see it all now," she
mournfully said. "It was with you he
quarreled, and about me. lie would
not tell mo what it was. You know,
then, that I am—that I am married—to
him!"
"Quito. I know all that; but it is no
marriage." lie rose to his feet slowly,
dropping the cigarette from his lips
as ho did so. "Yes," he continued, "and
1 know that you prefer Shon McGann
to Pretty Pierre."
She spread out her hand appeallngly.
"Hut you are my wife, not liia Lis
ten, do you know what I shall do?— 1
will tell you in two hours. It is now 8
o'clock. At 10 o'clock Shon McUann
will meet me at the Saints' Repose.
Then you shall know. . . . Ah, it
is a pity! Shon was my good friend,
but this spoils all that Wine, it has
danger; cards—there is peril in that
sport; women—they make trouble most
of aIL"
"Oh, God," she pitifully said, "what
have I done? There was no sin in me.
I was your faithful wife, though you
were cruel to mo. You left me, cheated
me, brought this upon me. It is you
that have done this wickedness, not I."
She buried her face in her hands,
falling on her knees beside the chair.
He bent above her: "You the
you avocat better, eight years aga"
She sprang to her feet "Ah, now I
understand," she said; "that was why
you quarreled with me; why you de
serted me—you were not man enough
to say what made you so much the —so
wicked and hard; so—"
"Re thankful, Lucy, that I did not
kill you then," he interjected.
"But it is a lie," she cried; "a lie!"
She went to the door and called the
Indian woman.
"Ikni," she said. "110 dares to say
ovil of Andre and me. Think—of
Andre!"
Ikni came to him and put her
wrinkled face close to his, and said:
"She was yours, only yours; but the
spirits gave you a devil. Andre, oh,
oh, Andre! The father of Andre was
her father—ah, that makes your sulky
eyes to open. Ikni knows how to speak.
Ikni nursed them both. If you had
waited you should have known. But
you ran away like a wolf from a coal
of fire; you shammed death like a fox;
you come back like the snake to crawl
into the house and strike with poison
took, when you should be with the
worms in the ground. But Ikniknowß
—you shall be struck with poison too, •
the Spirit of the Red Knife waits for
you. Andre, Andre, was of her father
too."
He pushed her aside savagely: "Be
still!" he said; "get out—quick. Mon
Dieu, quick!"
When they were alone again he con
tinued with lesa anger in his tone: "So
Andro, the avocat and you—that, eh?
Well, you see how much trouble has
come; and now this other —a secret
too! When were you married to Shon
, Meflann?"
"Last night," she bitterly replied;
"a priest caine over from the Indian
village."
"Last night" he musingly repeated
"last night I lost two thousand dol
lars at the little Goshen field. I did
not play well last night; I was nervous.
In eight years I had not lost so much
at one game as I did last night It was
a punishment for playing too honest
or something; eh, what do you think,
Lucy—or something, eh?"
She said nothing, but rocked her body
to and fro.
"Why did you not make the marriage
with Shon to be known?"
"He was to have told it to-night"
she said.
There was silence for a moment, then
a thought flashed into his eyes, and he
rejoined with a jarring laugh: "Well,
I will play a game to-night Lucy
Hives; such a game that Pretty Pierre
will never be forgotten in the Pipi
\ alley; a beautiful game, just for twa
And the other who will play, all, the
wife of Francois Rivos shall see if she
is patient; but she must be patient,
more patient than her husband was
eight years ago."
"What will you do?—tell me, what
will you do?"
"I will play a game of cards —just
one magnificent game; and the cards
shall not be stacked. All shall be fair
quite, as when you and I played in the
little house by the Chaudiere—at first,
Lucy—before I was a deviL"
Was this peculiar softness to his last
tones assumed or real? She looked at
him inquiringly; but he moved away
to the window and stood gazing down
the hillside towards the town below.
"I will die," she said to herself in
whispers—"l will die." A minute
passed, and then Pierre turned and said
to her: "Lucy, he is coming up the
hill. Listen. If you tell him that 1
have seen you, I will shoot him on
sight, dead. You would save him, for
a little, for an hour or two —or more?
Well, do as I say; for these things
must be according to the rules of the
game, and I myself will tell him all at
the Saints' Repose. He gave me the
lie there; I will tell him the truth before
them aIL Will you do as I say?"
She hesitated an instant and then re
plied, "I shall not tell him."
"There is only one way, then," he
continued; "you must go at once from
here into the woods behind there, and
not see him at all Then at ten o'clock
you will come to the Saints' Repose, if
you choose, to know how the gumehas
ended."
She was trembling, moaning, no
longer. A set look had come into her
face; her eyes were steady and hard.
She quitely replied: "Yes, I shall be
there."
He came to her, took her hand, and
drew from her finger the wedding-ring
which lust night Shon McGann had
placed there. She submitted passively.
Then with an upward wave of his
fingers he spoke in a mocking light
ness, but without any of the malice
that had firHt appeared in his tones,
words from an old French song
VI say no more, my lady—
M iron too, mironton, mirontulno!
I my no more, my lui\y,
AH nought more cun bo Raid."
He opened the door, motioned to the
Indian woman, and in a few moments
the broken-hearted Lucy Rives and her
companion were hidden in the pines;
and Pretty Pierre also disappeared into
the shadow of the woods as Shon Mc-
Gann appeared on the crest of the hill.
The Irishman walked slowly to the
door and pausing, said to himself: "I
couldn't run the big risk, me darlin',
without secin' you again, God held me!
There's danger ahead which little I'd
care if it wasn't for you."
Then he stepped inside the house.
The place was silent He called, but
no one answered. He threw open the
.loors of the rooms but they were
•mpty; ho went outside and called
again, but no reply came except the
swish of a nighthawk's wings and the
cry of a whip-poor-will. He went buck
into the house and sat down with his
head between his hands. So, for a
moment and then ho raised his head,
and said with a smile: "Faitfr, Shon,
me boy, this takes the life out of ye!—
ihe empty house where she ought to
be, and the smile of her so sweet and
I the hand of her that falls on yer
shoulder like a dove on the blessed
altar—gone, and lavin' a chill on y'r
heart like a touch of tho dead. Sure,
nlvir a wan of me saw any that could
stand wid her for goodness, barrin'
the angel that kissed me good-bye
with one foot in the stirrup an' tho
troopers behind me, now twelve years
gone, in ould Donegal, and that I'll
nivir see again, she lyin' where the
hate of the world will vex the heart of
her no more, and the masses gone up
for her soul. Twice, twice in yer life,
Shon McGann, has the cup of God's joy
been at yer lips, and is it both times
that it's to spill?— Pretty Pierre shoots
straight and sudden, and may be it's
aisy to see the end of it; but as tho
just God is above us, I'll give him the
lie in his throat again for the word he
said agin me darlin'. What's tho avil
thing that he has to say? What's the
Satan's proof he would bring? And
where is she now?—where are you,
Lucy? I know the proof I've got in
me heart, that the wreck of the world
couldn't shake, while that light, born
of Heaven, swims up to your eyes
whin you look at me."
He rose to his feet agaiu and walked
to and fro;, t he went once more to the
doors; he looked here and there
through tho growing dusk, but to no
purpose. She had said that she would
not go to her shop this night; but if
not, then where could she have gone
and lkni, too? He felt there was more
awry in his life than he eared to put
into thought or speech. He picked up
the sewing she had dropped and looked
at it as one would regard a relic of tho
dead; he lifted her handkerchief, kissed
it, and put it in his breast He took a
revolver from his pocket and examined
it closely, looked round tho room as if
to fasten it in his memory, and then
passed out, closing the door behind
him. He walked down the iiilisi le >i • !
went to her shop in the one 1 <
the town, but she was not there, nor
had the lad in charge seen her.
Meanwhile Pretty Pierre had made
his way to the Saints' Kepose, and was
sitting among the minerß, indolently
smoking, in vain he was asked to play
cards. His one reply was: "No, par
don, no! I play one game only to
night, the biggest game ever played in
the Pipi Valley." In vain, also, was he
asked to drink. He refused the hospi
tality, defying the danger that such
lack of good-fellowship might briug
forth. He hummed in snatches to him
self the words of a song that the Brules
were wont to sing when they hunted
the buffalo:
"Volla! It la the sport to ride;
Ah, ah, tho brave hunter!
To thruat tho arrow in his hide.
To send tho bullet through his side—
Ici, the bufl'ulo, Joli!
Ah, ah, the buffalo!
lie nodded here and there as men
entered, but he did not stir from his
seat. lie smaked incessantly, and hid
eyes faced the door of the barroom
that entered upon the street There
was no doubt in the minds of any
present that the promised excitement
would occur. Shon McGann was as
fearless as he was gay. The Pipi Val
ley remembered the day in which he
had twice risked his life to save two
women from a burning building—Ladv
Jane and another. And Lady Jane this
evening was agitated, and once or
twice furtively looked at something
under the bar counter: in fact, a close
observer would have noticed anger or
anxiety in the eyes of the daughter of
Dick Waldron, the keeper of the Saints'
Iteposo; Pierre would certainly have
seen it had ho been looking that way.
An unusual influence was working
upon the frequenters of the Saints' Re
pose. Planned, premeditated excite
ment was out of their line. Unexpect
edness was the salt of their existence.
This thing had an air of system not in
accord with the suddenness of tho Pipi
mind. Tho half-breed was tho ouly
jnc entirely at his ease; he was lan
guid and nonchalant; tho long lashes
of his half-shut eyes gave his face a
pensive look. At last King Kinkley
walked over to him and said: ' Thero's
an almighty mysteriousness about this
event that isn't joyful. Pretty Pierre.
We want to see this muss cleared up,
of course; wo want Shon McGann to
act like a high-toned citizen; and
there's a general prejudice in favor of
things being on the flat of your palm,
as it were—this thing hangs fire, and
there's a lack of animation about it,
isn't there?"
To this Pretty Pierre replied: "What
can I do? This is not like other thiugs;
one has to wait; great things take
time. To shoot is easy, but to shoot is
not all, as you shall see if you have pa
tience a little. Ah, mon ami, where
there is a woman things arc different
I throw a glass in your face, we shoot,
some one dies, and there it is quite plain
of reason; you play a card which was
dealt just now, I call you—something,
and the swiftest finger does the trick;
but when there is a woman one must
wait for the sport"
It was at this point that Shon McGann
entered, looked round, nodded to all,
and then came forward to the table
where Pretty Pierre sat As the French
man took out his watch Shon said
firmly but quietly: "Pierre, I gave
you the lie to-day concerning me wife,
and I'm fiero, as I said I'd be, to stand
by the word I passed then."
Pierre waved his fingers lightly
towards tho other and slowly rose.
Then ho said in sharp tones: "Yes,
Shon McGann, you gave mo the lie.
There is but one thing for that n the
Pipi Valley. You choked me; I would
not take that from a saint of heaven;
but there was another thing to do first
Well, I have done it; I said I would
bring proofs—l have them." He
paused, and now there might be seen &
shining moisture on his forehead, and
his words came menacingly from be
tween his teeth, while the room be
came breathlessly still, save that in the
silence a sleeping dog sighed heavily.
"Shon McGann," he said, "you are
living with my wife!"
Twenty men drew in a deep breath
of excitement, and Shon came a step
nearer to the other and said in a strange
voice: "I—am —living—with— your—
wife?"
"As I say, with my wife, Lucy Rives.
Francois Rives was my name eight
years ago. Wo quarreled. I left her,
and I never saw her again until to
night You went to see her two hours
nga You did not find her. Why?
She was gone because her husband,
Pierre, told her to go. You want o
proof? You shall have it. Here is the
wedding ring you gave her last night"
He handed it over, and Shon saw in
side it his own name and hers.
"My God!" he said, "did she know?
Tell me she did not know, Pierre!"
"No; she did not know. I have truth
to speak to-night I was jealous, mad,
and foolish, and I left her. My boat
IIE I.IFTED-HER HANDKERCHIEF, KISSER IT
was found upset They believed I wair
drowned. Hien, she waited until yes
terday, and then she took you —buV
she was my wife—she is my wife —and
so you see!
The Irishman was deadly pale.
"It's an avil heart y* had in y' then,
Pretty Pierre, and it's an avil day that
brought this thing to pass, anil there's
only one way to the end of it"
"Yes, that is true. There is only one
way," was tho reply; "but what shall
that way be? Someone must go; there
must be no mistake. I have to propose:
here on this table we lay a revolver.
We will give up these which we have
in our pockets. Then we will play a
iramo of euchre, and the winner of the
•:,me shall have the revolver. We will j
p.ay for a life. That ia fair, eh—thai
is fair, eh—that is fair?" he said to
those around.
King Kink ley, speaking* for the rest,
replied: "That's about fair. It gives
both a chance, and leaves only two
when it's over. While the woman lives
one of you is naturally in the way.
Pierre left her in away that isn't hand
some; but a wife's a wife, and though
Shou was all in the glum about the
thing, and though the woman isn't to
be blamed either, there's one too many
of you, and there's got to be a vaca
tion for somebody. Isn't that so?"
The rest nodded assent They had
been so engaged that they did not see
a woman enter the bar from behind,
and crouch down beside Lady Jane, a
woman whom the latter touched affec
tionately on the shoulder and whis
pered to once or twice while she
TIIK LAST DEAL WAS SIION'S.
watched the ominous preparations for
the game.
The two men satdown, fchon McGann
facing the bar and Pretty Pierre with
his back to it
The game began, neither man show
ing a sign of nervousness, though Shon
was still pale. The game was to finish
for ton points. Men crowded about the
tables silent and keenly excited; cigars
wero chewed instead of smoked, and
liquor was left undrunk. At the first
deal Pierre made a march, securing
two. At the next Shon make a point,
and at the next also a inarch. The
half-breed was playing a straight game.
He could have stacked the cards, but ho
did not do so; deft as ho was ho might
have, cheated even the vigilant eyes
about him, as he had done before; but
he played as squarely as a novicdT At
the third, at the fourth deal he made a
march; at the fifth, sixth and seventh
deals Shon made a march, a poiut, and
a march. Iloth now had eight pointa
At the next deal both got a point, and
both stood at nine!
Now came the crucial play.
During the progress of the game noth
ing had been heard save tho sound of a
knuckle on the table, tho Hip-ilip of tho
pasteboard or the rasp of a heel on the
floor. There was a set smile on Shon's
face—a forgotten smile, for the rest of
the face was stern and tragic. Pierre
smoked cigarettes, pausing, while li s
opponent was shuffling and dealing, to
light them.
Behiud tho bar a9 the game proceeded
the woman who knelt beside Lady Jane
listened to every sbund. Iloreyes grew
more and more agonized as the num
bers, whispered to her by her compan
ion, climbed to the fatal ten.
The last deal was Shon's; there was
that much to his advantage. As he
slowly dealt tho woman—Lucy Rives—
rose to her feet behind Lady Jane. So
absorbed were all that uone saw her.
Her eyes passed from Pretty Pierre to
Shon McGann and stayed.
When tho cards were dealt, with but
one point for either to gain and so win
and save his life, there was a slight
pause before the two took them up.
They did not look at one another; but
each glanced at the revolver, then at
the men nearest to them, and lastly,
for uu instant, at the cards themselves,
with their pasteboard faces of life and
death turned downward. As the play
ers picked them up at last and spread
them out fan-like, Lady Jane slipped
something into tho hand of Lucy
Itives.
Those who stood behind Shon Mc-
Gann stared with anxious astonishment
at his hand; it contained only nine and
ten spots. It was easy to see tho di
rection of tho sympathy of Pipi Valley.
Tho Irishman's face turned a slight
shade paler then, but ho did not trem
ble or appear disturbed.
Pierre played his biggest card and
took the point, lie coolly counted 0110
and said: "Game. 1 win."
Tho crowd drew back. Iloth rose to
their feet. In the painful silenco tho
half-breed's hand was gently laid on
tho revolver, lie lifted it and paused
slightly, his eyes fixed on the steady
look in those of Shon McGann. Ho
raised tho rovolvor again till it was
level with Shon's forehead, till it was
even with his hair! Then there was a
shot and some one fell, not Shon, but
Pierre, saying, us they caught him:
"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! From behind!"
Instantly there was another shot and
some one crashed against the bottles in
tho bar. The other factor in the game,
the wife, had shot at Pierre and tlieu
sent a bullet through her own lungs.
Shon stood for a moment us if he was
turned to stone, and then his head
dropped in his arms upon the table.
He had seen both shots fired, but could
not speak in time.
Pierre was severely, but not danger
ouslj' wounded in the neck and shoul
der.
Hut the woman—? They brought
her out from behind the counter. She
still breathed; but on her eyes was tho
flim of coming death. She turned to
where Shon sat. Her lips framed his
name, but no voice came forth. Soino
one touched him on tho shoulder. Ho
looked up and caught her last glance,
lie came and stooped beside her; but
she had die<T with that one glanco from
j him bringing a faint smile to her lips.
And the smile stayed when the life of
| her had fled—fled through the cloud
I over her eyes, irom the tide-beat of her
j pulse.
j Shon McGann stood sileut above tho
! dead body.
One by one tho miners went out
quietly. Pretty Pierre nodded towards
the door also, and King Kinkley and
another lifted him and carried him to
wards it. Before they passed into the
street he made them turn him so that
he could sec Shon. lie waved his hand
towards her that had been his wife and
said: "She should have shot but onco
and straight, Shon McGann, and then!
—Eh, well!"
The door closed, and Shon McGann
was left alone with the dead.