Wentworth's Crime

WILLIAM WENTWORTH, familiarly called Billy, was faithfully following the plow. He was not in any way a conventional plowman. Neither in the appearance of the field, nor of the plow, nor of the animals, nor of Billy himself, was there anything to recall Holbein’s picture of the peasant and his misery, or that tended concretely to realize the usual vision brought up by the words “a man following the plow.” In the first place, Billy was not exactly following the plow ; to speak with scrupulous correctness, he was riding the plow. The animals that drew both him and the plow were neither slow, clumsy oxen, crowding each other beneath a heavy yoke, nor yet galled-shouldered, bony horses, but two strong, broad-breasted mules, with great ears and neat, slim legs. We hesitate to mention this fact, but realism and truth are the great things, after all, and sentiment and the traditional plowman must give way to them.

The plow itself would have puzzled any or all of the great farmers, from Cain to the author of The Hundred Points of Good Husbandry ; and many an honest son of the soil since the days of Tusser would have considered it good for nothing but old iron and firewood. It was a complicated affair, on wheels, with a variety of contrivances for regulating the depth to which the ground should be stirred, for “ hilling up,” and for hoisting the shovels entirely out of the ground. In fact, it was not even called a plow ; it was a cultivator, and Billy was not plowing preparatory to sowing the seed, but was cultivating Indian corn.

Still the scene was picturesque enough, for any one with an eye for color and an accommodating sense of the general fitness of things. The long rows of corn, stretching over the gentle rise of ground and confusedly mixing up their broad, waving blades at the summit, were a deep green, and the broad, rectangular field, separated from the open prairie surrounding it by no other boundaries than the sharply marked lines between the different shades of this sylvan color, seemed like a dark, square-cornered oasis in a desert of coarse grass and gaudy flowers. When Billy reached the top of the slight ridge, if he had looked about him over the thousand hills of waving corn, he would have seen, beyond an intervening stretch of prairie that lay dull and darkened by the shadow of a cloud, a distant field of yellow bai ley fast ripening for the harvest, and one of wheat just turning, that flashed brightly in the flooding light of the evening sun. The western sky was fringed with brilliantcolored clouds, decked out in borrowed finery to attend the glorious setting of their creditor, and Billy might have let his eyes wander from earth to sky and from sky to earth, in an uncertainty of æsthetic enjoyment; but he merely glanced at the sun behind the clouds, and calculated how many rounds the mules could make before quitting-time. For he was impatient to be at the end of his day’s labor; not because he found it hard work to ride over the rough ground so many hours every day, nor because he was hungry, — though plowing corn is both a tiresome and hungergiving occupation, — but Billy was in love !

It is quite natural and perfectly possible for a plowman to be in love. Did not Cuddie Headrigg love and woo and win pretty Jenny Dennison ? Was not one of the most promiscuous, and yet most faithful, lovers we know of a plowman ? And was not — But it is unnecessary to quote precedences ; for if Billy had been the first plowman in the world who had ever loved and been impatient to fly to the presence of his charmer, the fact would not have cooled his ardor nor soothed his impatience ; and when he had decided that he could complete that round and another before taking out the mules, Billy sent his long whip whistling about their great ears, and hurried them through the corn, as if the sun were in the eastern instead of in the western sky, and they were starting fresh in the morning instead of reaching the end of a long day’s work. The faithful mules, however, knew their driver’s mood ; the habit of weeks had taught them to know that the remainder of their task for the day was now a fixed amount, and that as soon as it was finished they would be led to the trough of cool water and the manger of bright oats and fragrant hay. So they responded willingly to Billy’s urging, and soon came out at the edge of the field ; and then, beginning on their last round, — the rows were half a mile long, — finished it in twenty minutes by Billy’s heavy silver watch, a very reliable timepiece for any period of time less than an hour in duration.

When Billy had led the mules to the watering-trough, and brought the windmill round to the breeze to pump fresh water from the deep well, — “ a hundred and thirteen feet, if it is an inch,” Farmer Fuller would often declare,— he was somewhat disappointed and surprised that no one came to the door to tell him to hurry in, for supper was waiting; or else playfully to accuse him of laziness for “ turning out ” so early ; or to ask him how many acres he had got over ; or, under some pretext or other, to greet him and let him know his comings and goings were matters of interest to at least one person in the world.

“ I wonder where she is,” thought Billy ; and imagining that she had perhaps not heard him talking to the eager brutes as they made impatiently for the water, though he had shouted “ without any mitigation or remorse of voice,” he began whistling loudly for the dog. Tige came running up readily enough, — in fact, he had been almost at Billy’s heels for the last ten minutes, — but no one appeared at the open door; and Billy was finally obliged to lead the mules off to the stable, and give them their oats and hay, without getting a sight of Eva Fuller’s pretty figure in the doorway, or hearing her innocent laugh at his dust-begrimed face; without an opportunity of showing how well he could take a harmless jest, when it came from her.

“ If that young Phillips has been around here again, with his buggy and fancy harness,” Billy muttered, as he thrust the pitchfork viciously in the manger and packed down the hay with a vehemence entirely needless, — “why, if he has, there ’ll be trouble on the ranche, that’s all.”

When he had washed the streaked layer of soil from his face, and tried in vain for some time to brush the kink out of the ends of his black hair, — it was always a trial to Billy that his hair would curl, — he entered the house, and ate his supper of baked potatoes and crisp bacon and fresh eggs alone with Farmer Fuller and his wife. Eva was not there to laugh and chatter, and Billy took his glass of milk from Mrs. Fuller’s masculine hand instead of Eva’s, which was not masculine by any means. When the fresh plate of snowy biscuit, demanded by the hearty appetites of Billy and Farmer Fuller, was brought in from the kitchen, it was that hard-working woman’s tall frame and austere visage that Billy saw in the door, and not Eva’s neatly aproned figure and laughing eyes, — the usual vision that greeted him at this point in the evening meal.

Billy helped himself to another biscuit. “ Where is Eva?” he asked, at last, of the old farmer, his desire to know what had become of her mastering his determination to appear indifferent.

“ Young Phillips took her out buggyridin’, this afternoon,” answered Fuller, sugaring his second cup of coffee.

“ He seems to enjoy trottin’ his bays over the prairie,” observed Billy, by way of starting a discussion of Phillips. “ I should think he would want to get over that eighty-acre corn-field again. It’s a mighty weedy piece, and this hot weather is liftin’ it right out o’ the ground a’most. It ’ll soon be too high to plow.” “ Corn is just climbin’ right along, this weather, — that’s a fact,” and the honest Fuller smiled in anticipation of full cribs ; “ but Phillips has hired another man, and has put him to work on the eighty-acre piece.”

“ Humph ! he might as well let the weeds take it as to pay it out in wages. Why don’t he have his son do it ? He’s a big, strappin’ fellow enough.”

“ You must remember,” struck in Mrs. Fuller, “that Mr. Phillips is n’t obliged to have his son work, unless he chooses; and if Robert would rather enjoy himself on a pleasant evening, and take Eva for a buggy-ride, it’s nobody’s business.”

“ No, no, mother,” and her husband shook his head; “ a man that won’t work ought n’t to eat, I say. Not but what I’m willin’ for young fellers to have their pleasure, and all that; but if I had the fortune of Lazarus I should bring up my sons to work.”

“ Well, if other people think different, it’s nobody’s business, as I said.”

“ Of course, so far as the work goes, I’m not meddlin’ with other people’s business. If they want to let their children go to bed without bein’ sleepy and sit down to the table without bein’ hungry, that’s their lookout; and, as you say, if Bob Phillips wants to galivant all over the country just as corn weather is comin’ on the strongest, and the barley’s ready to cut, and the oats pretty near ripe, and the wheat turnin’, why, it’s none o’ my business. But when — but when, I say,” and Fuller laid down his knife and fork to give added emphasis to his words and mark the deliberation with which they were uttered, — “ when you go further ’n that, and say it’s nobody’s business when he takes Eva out buggy-ridin’, you go too far.”

“ Well, it’s nobody’s but hers,” retorted Mrs. Fuller, decidedly ; “ and if she didn’t choose to go she would n’t. But she ’s tickled enough to go, poor girl, after workin’ in the kitchen all day; ” and the gray eyes looked right through Billy at Tige, who was patiently waiting behind his master’s chair for his supper-time to come. Mrs. Fuller was not sorry to get in a back-hander, as Billy mentally designated this speech, at her daughter’s lover. He winced momentarily, but brightened up and nodded his approbation energetically when the old farmer continued his protest.

“ Now you don’t go far enough, mother, — that’s always the way with you : yon either go too far, or you don’t go far enough.” In spite of his slow, measured way of speaking, there was a sound of impatience in his voice which his wife knew better than to provoke further. So she silently busied herself over her plate while he continued: “ Here’s Billy, now, has been with us for two years and more. He quit the herder’s business (not that I approve of the wild sort of life they carry on, but he was used to it and liked it), he quit it, I say, and came to work for me, — and a good hand he’s been, no one can deny, — because he happened to take a fancy to Eva’s pretty face; and he was about right there, too ; and he has stayed with us through two harvests, and been a faithful hand. He has saved his wages, and preëmpted as good a quarter-section of land as there is in the South Platte valley ; he’s got Eva to likin’ him, and we ’ve told ’em ‘ God bless ’em : ’ and for him to lose her now through your worldly and unconsiderate notions about this Phillips chap — just as if he was better than other people because he’s been away to school a few months, and his father’s got three or four sections of land and a few more head o’ stock than the balance of us 1— why, I say it would be just like presentin’ him with the cup o’ Croesus ” —

“ Cup of Tantalus, pa,” interrupted a merry voice behind Billy’s chair, that made his ears tingle with pleasure. He hoped that Eva had not caught the drift of the conversation, however, and was just going to turn round and feast his eyes with the sight of her, and let her see the joy in them, when he heard her ask some one to come in and have some supper ; so he speared another potato and almost scalded himself with hot coffee instead.

“ Billy, will you go out and drive Mr. Phillips’s horses around to the stable ? ” asked the young lady carelessly, as she laid aside her smart bonnet with the bright pink ribbons.

Billy muttered something very low, but was pushing back his chair when the honest old farmer began : —

“ You ’ll do no such thing, Billy ; you just sit where you are and eat your supper. Tell the fine young gentleman, Eva, that if his fiery steeds won’t stand hitched to the hitchin’-post he can drive ’em round to the stable, and put ’em in the empty stall ” —

“ Why, Rufus ! ” exclaimed his wife.

— “and that he’ll have to excuse Billy and me,” went on Rufus; “for we’re eatin’ our suppers, and it’s ruinous to the digestion to be disturbed at meal-time.”

Eva was somewhat surprised at this, for her father was usually very scrupulous on points of hospitality ; but she delivered his message, choosing her own way of expressing the matter. Mr. Phillips, however, had already decided not to accept the hospitality of the Fullers, and after a brief conversation with Eva, of which the others could hear, now and then, a little silvery laugh accompanied by a great guffaw, he drove off.

Finally, when she came in and took her place at the table, Billy ventured to look at her. She did not deign to offer him a greeting, but broke into an enthusiastic description of her ride, addressing herself in a general way to her father and mother. Of course Billy could listen ; he was sitting opposite her and could not well help hearing her lively chatter without leaving the table, and this he had no intention of doing until he had satisfied his appetite. He tried in vain to keep down his rising indignation and wrath at her and young Phillips, and the persistency with which she avoided meeting his eyes brought him several times to the verge of choking. He soon came to the conclusion that she had heard and was offended at the remark her father had been making when she came in. But when she had exhausted the topic of her drive, and had irretrievably plunged Billy into a fit of the sullens, she suddenly turned her blue eyes on her father, and throwing her head back until her yellow hair was lighted up by the last rays of the crimson sun through the open door, “ What would be like giving some one the cup of Tantalus, and who was the some one ? ” she asked.

“Oh — yes,” answered the old man slowly, without showing any of the nervousness he felt; for this fair-haired young girl was accustomed to having her own way, and had a pert, charming manner of making the rest of the household uncomfortable when she was crossed in it, which almost never happened, or when her right to do so was even remotely questioned, which did occasionally occur. “ Yes,” said her father; “ I always get Tantalus and Croesus and Lazarus and Dives all mixed up, when you ’re not around to straighten me out, Eva.”

“ But what was it you were talking of?”

Billy felt relieved. She had not heard, and he knew that her father could be depended upon to keep her from finding out. His sweetheart’s disposition was known to him well enough to make him wish not to excite her opposition, nor let her feel that she was in the least constrained.

“Oh, I was just making a general remark,” said Mr. Fuller.

“ Yes; but it was about some one in particular,” persisted Eva. “You were talking about Mr. Phillips; I know you were. You would never have said he might put up his horses himself, if you had n’t been running him down just before. You know you would n’t say such a thing unless you had been working yourself up to it by talking unreasonably.”

“ Now, Eva, how you jump at conclusions ! That’s the great trouble with you and your mother : you ’re always jumping at conclusions. It’s the fault of your sex, too. Now I never knew a woman that did n’t ” —

“ Oh, you can’t deny it; can he, ma? I felt sure you had, at first, and now I know it. But I am glad of it.”

“Why?” inquired her father, taken by surprise.

“ So I can stand up for him. I think he is ever so nice,” and the young lady dropped her eyes and went on with her supper. She stole a look at Billy, and for a moment was almost frightened into relenting by what she saw in his face.

“ Your father thinks it wrong for you to go out ridin’ with Mr. Phillips,” said Mrs. Fuller, not sorry to renew the engagement, now that she was reinforced.

“ What! ” exclaimed Miss Eva, and her mild blue eyes flashed.

“ Now, mother,” deprecated the farmer, “ you have misunderstood me altogether.”

“ What did they say ? ” asked Eva, turning to her mother with a sweeping glance that established both Billy and the old farmer as culprits at the bar of judgment.

“ They said,” answered Mrs. Fuller deliberately, and glancing at Billy as much as to say, “ And you had better not contradict it, either;” but she refused to see the prohibition to speak in her husband’s frowning countenance, — “ they said you had no business to take a little rest and innocent pleasure, after workin’ hard all mornin’ cookin’ their meals ; that you had no right to go buggy-ridin’ with Mr. Phillips, or any one else, for that matter, without huntin’ all over the place to ask your father, and ruimin’ out to the field to see if Billy don’t object.”

“ Now, mother, how you do pull a person’s words all out of shape! ” protested the old man, while Eva seemed to become several inches taller as she straightened up with wrath, and looked defiance at her father and contempt at poor Billy. “ Did we say, or even hint at any such thing, Billy ? ”

Billy had not spoken since Eva’s entrance ; but now that he was directly appealed to he got up from the table with considerable native dignity, and returned Eva’s glance bravely for a moment. “ No, we did not,” he answered, addressing Mr. Fuller; “and if your wife will take the trouble to make a little better round-up of her recollection, she will remember that what I said was about nobody and nothing but Mr. Phillips and his eighty-acre piece of corn ; and she might know by tins time that, whatever I felt, J would be the last person to say a word against Miss Eva’s doing what she had a mind to ; at least I would say it to nobody but Miss Eva herself,” and the young fellow marched out of the room with an air of being justly and decently offended. Eva followed him with her eyes, not at all displeased to see how handsomely he bore himself.

“ I tell you,” declared Mr. Fuller, when Billy had gone, " William Wentworth is not a fellow to be made a fool of, either by himself or by others.”

“ Nobody ever said ho was, that I know of,” retorted his wife, who found it in her mind to make an answer, though the remark demanded none.

“ There, now, mother,” said the farmer, soothingly ; and he straightway entered into an explanation of his position to his daughter, and showed how he had only been desirous of discussing the matters of wealth and worldly position in a general way, with perhaps a few illustrations from their acquaintances, but with no intention of making special applications, or calling in question the propriety of Eva’s riding in Phillips’ buggy; and when his wife had persisted in introducing this matter, all he had claimed was that what Eva should do was of consequence to others besides herself. “ And I ’m sure, Eva,” he appealed at the end, “ you would n’t want your old dad to say he did n’t care a darn what you did or what became of you ; now, would you ? ”

No indeed, Eva wanted him to say nothing like that; and she kissed the kind old man and brought his pipe, as if she had been the meekest and most obedient child the world had ever known. She was really very loving and tenderhearted, and when she saw how her father, through his weakness for words and evasive discussions and his aversion to displeasing herself, was determined to admit nothing, she forbore to plague him, and resolved to have satisfaction from Billy. He had carried himself with so much independence, and even something approaching disdain, during their pleasant family dispute, that she had no feelings of compunction on his account. She had felt sorry for him for a minute or two, but the feeling had disappeared as soon as her mother had spoken ; and now she went out to where she knew he was smoking cigarettes, — for Billy had not been able to leave off this habit after turning from a herder into a plowman, — thinking that her only object was to torment him a little, and that they would then make it up and love each other more than ever.

She found him, as she had expected, at full length upon the grass, in his favorite position and occupying his favorite place near the hammock. The hammock had been procured only after a similar novelty had made its appearance for the benefit of the Misses Phillips, Robert’s sisters, and had been swung between its posts but a few weeks; yet in that time Billy and Eva had become so accustomed to staying there, in the long summer twilight, that it would have been a surprise to either had the other failed to appear.

She gracefully took her place in the hammock, — for she was as lithe and full of grace as a leopard, — and waited a while in silence; not so much for her lover to begin — for she hardly thought he would of his own accord broach the subject she was anxious to discuss — as to enjoy the stillness, and the soft air slightly perfumed by Billy’s cigarette, and the gentle twilight hour. The light had faded out of the west, yet the distant level horizon that separated the sombre earth from the descending sky was plainly marked. The moon, just past the meridian, had been growing brighter and brighter as the wealth of color had faded from the clouds, and the shadow of the house, as it crept towards Eva and her lover, became more and more distinct.

Eva gave a little sigh as she thought how pleasant their evenings here had always been, and that to-night she had made up her mind to torment Billy. He was, no doubt, comfortably miserable already ; but she should take care, she told herself, that they did not part in anger, and that Billy should be made happy in proportion to his misery before they separated.

“Shall I swing you?” asked Billy at last. She threw him the end of a rope, which Billy had ingeniously woven from half-ripened barley straw, and without disturbing himself he gently swung the hammock and its fair burden back and forth.

“ Did you want to talk with me ? ” she began, holding the other end of the rope. It was the next best thing to holding his hand, she thought, and had the advantage of affording him no assurance that she was going to make him miserable only from wantonness.

“ Yes.” “ What did you want to say ? ”

“It did n’t make any difference.”

“ It did n’t make any difference ? Does it now ? ”

“ No,” answered Billy, lighting another cigarette, which he had taken the precaution to roll in advance, without stopping the swinging.

“ Oh,” she said, after watching him a minute, “ you had something particular to say, but have concluded not to say it.”

“ No ; I meant I only wanted to talk to you, and it did n’t make any difference what we talked about.”

“ How nice ! ” she exclaimed, with a sneer so slight that it was entirely lost on Billy. “ But then,” she continued, “ you said at supper that you had something to complain of to Miss Eva herself.”

“ I did n’t mean that, and, if I remember, that was n’t just what I said.”

“ Well, it sounded like that. What did you say, then ? ”

“ That if I intended to complain of you I would do it to you, yourself.”

“ Well, you called me ‘ Miss Eva,’ and seemed very high and mighty, any way.” The tormenting and complaining were going to be more difficult to bring about than she had thought for,— at least in the way she wished. It was easy enough for her to find fault and be bothered at his coolness ; but the mischievous delight she had promised herself was not to be had in this manner.

“ I always call you that to your father and mother.”

Eva swung in silence a few minutes; then she said, as if taking up a new subject, “ You don’t seem to like Rob Phillips very well.”

“ No, damn him,” Billy muttered, starting up. “Whatever we talked about, I did n’t want to discuss him with you, Eva,” he broke out.

“ Well, you need n’t tumble me out on the ground, and you will please not swear at my friends.” Billy dropped the rope with which he had been swinging her. When the hammock had somewhat ceased its vibrations he began pacing up and down by her side.

“ If he is one of your friends ” — he said, at last, quite mildly. He was evidently going to humble himself ; but to see him in this attitude was not so pleasant to Miss Eva as to see him haughty and defiant. Then she was not yet ready to make him happy, and had found the way in which she could torment him to her heart’s content.

“ Well, he is,” she interrupted him, “one of my very best friends; and he is one who knows what is due to others, besides being a man who has ideas about something else than corn and cattle.”

“ And he’s got a new buggy and fine horses,” went on Billy, taking up the note, and giving it a bitterly caustic tone, “ and his father owns over two thousand acres of land, — it don’t make any difference if he did jump a poor widow-woman’s claim, just so he’s got the land, — and he’s been away to school, and he knows better than to waste his time plowin’ corn and savin’ up his money for the sake of any one he’s in love with. His father will give him a farm and plenty of stock, when he’s ready to get married, and he can afford to have ideas above doin’ that. 1 know,” he continued, disregarding Eva’s efforts to interrupt him, and stopping his walk, — Eva, frightened at his vehemence, had raised herself in the hammock, and was holding on by the meshes, — “I know your mother wants you to throw me over for him; she never has liked me since — since you began to, and she thinks I ’m not good enough for you, which God knows I ain’t; but I’m better than he is, and I will swear at him, out of your bearin’; but I want you to know I will, even if lie is one of your dearest friends. . . . I ’ve got ideas above bein’ a clodhopper, too; and if bein’ faithful, and steady, and hard workin’, and lovin’ won’t win you, I ’ll carry ’em out. Handle life is glorious and free, and the best man wins. You can go and have your best friend, if you want liim ; but I ’ll not go down on my knees to him, nor put up his horses for him, aud I ’ll swear at him all I please.”

Just then some one rode up. “ Oh, it’s Hr. Phillips ! ” exclaimed Eva, in a frightened whisper. “ He said he did n’t think he should come over tonight, What shall I do ? Don’t go away, Billy ; you are all wrong,” and she put out her hand with a detaining, almost an imploring gesture, as she turned to speak to Mr. Phillips, who had dismounted, and was approaching them, with the bridle-rein over his arm. But Billy had strode away without noticing her, muttering to himself, “ I ’ll swear at him, damn him; and if he says anything to me I ’ll shoot him.” He passed the house absently, and as he came opposite the open window he heard Mrs. Fuller’s voice, saying to her husband, “ Eva told me he was coming either tonight or to-morrow to ask her to marry him;” and Billy struck out over the prairie, not caring what direction he took.

His heart was full of rage and bitterness. He thought for a time that he would steal back after they had all gone to bed, put a few things together, and start for the grazing grounds; then he felt that he must see Eva once more; and when ho had somewhat recovered his equanimity he decided to do nothing rash. He knew the old farmer was on his side, and he had Eva’s promise ; he remembered that harvest was coming on, and that it would he rather mean to leave the old man in the lurch, with no hands to be had in the county. He had never met this Phillips ; had only heard of him through Mrs. Fuller and Eva, and had seen him once or twice at a distance. He would be sensible and strong ; he would do his best; and if Eva married Phillips for his money, why, he would be fortunate in losing her. So he turned, and went back to the farm-house. But when he saw that there was still a light in the front room, all his wrath came back to him. He knew it must be late ; for though, in his excitement, he had not noticed the lapse of time, yet he had watched the moon go down ; and he reasoned that Phillips must have received encouragement, or he would not have stayed so long. He could not get to his room without disturbing Eva and her companion, and he determined to wait about the outbuildings until Phillips had gone, and then carry out his first plan, He would not even try to see Eva before he started away to resume his old and favorite occupation.

He wandered aimlessly about, taking his last look at the dim outlines of the house and stable and the tall, slim frame that supported the windmill, and at the granaries and corn-crib. It was in the shelter of the last low, broad building that he had asked Eva to marry him, the November before. He remembered exactly how it had happened: how he had been sorting out some of the best ears for seed-corn, while the first snow of the winter was flying fitfully about the corners of the buildings, and the wind whistled sharply through the open boards. He recalled how Eva’s bright smile had lighted up the little cave he had made at the door of the crib, when she came to ask for a few ears to parch, — she always parched corn on the day of the first snow, — and how her presence had shut out the cold and storm, as the golden corn, piled high around them, had seemed to separate them from the world. He thought of how happy and full of joy they had been, and how lightheartedly they had laughed when finally, forgetting all about her errand, she had gone to the house, only to come out to him again. But now, as he looked in through the little door where she had appeared that November day to make him happy, there was nothing but dreary emptiness, and the damp odor of mouldering corn.

Billy turned away with a sharp pain. He was not a sentimental fellow, but he really loved Eva, and the contrast between that afternoon and now affected him. “ I never want to smell that smell again,” he thought, and congratulated himself that in the life he was going to live he never would. He looked towards the house : the light was out, and he might reach his room without meeting any one. So he struck across the yard, setting his lips firmly. Just as he came opposite the stable he saw some one lead a horse out, and then stop, apparently to tighten the girths.

Billy wanted no interview with Phillips, and stepped out of sight behind the building, but not before he had been noticed.

“ Hey ! what are you prowling round here for ? ” demanded the dim figure.

“ It’s none o’ your business,” replied Billy, coming out again into view.

The man scanned him closely in the uncertain starlight. “ Ah, young fellow, if you belong to the house, it’s all right. But you’d better get inside as quick as God a’mighty ’ll let you, and cover your head with the bedclothes; and don’t budge till you ’re called for breakfast.”

Billy was not hypercritical, but he could not help thinking that this was rather coarse language for a man who knew what was due to others, and who had ideas above corn and cattle. He was in no mood, however, to allow anybody to speak so to him, much less Robert Phillips. So he politely invited him to go to a place where cow-boys very often ask their enemies and friends alike to go.

“ Don’t give me any o’ your chin, young chap, or I’ll knock your head off,” and he started toward Billy menacingly.

Billy swore a great oath and drew his revolver, which he was never without. “Keep off ! ” he cried. “ I ’ll let daylight through you if you come another step.” The other, evidently not believing he was armed, continued to advance. Billy never felt sure whether he was prompted more by his jealousy and despair than by his auger at the fellow’s insolence, — for his life among the cow-boys had taught him to consider anything like a threat of bodily injury as a deadly insult,— but he fired his revolver.

His victim threw his arms wildly in the air, and fell heavily to the ground. Billy was stunned for a moment by what he had done. He had always heard such deeds made light of, but he had never been an actor, or even a witness, in the broils that give rise to them. The reality was somehow much more terrible than he had ever conceived it. “ My God, I ’ve killed him ! ” he thought, as he stood with his smoking weapon in his hand and the fallen man’s groan ringing in his ears. The horse, frightened at the report, had galloped off, making for the open prairie, and Billy was brought to consider his own position by seeing a light appear in the windows of the house. Tige was barking savagely, and he could hear the old farmer trying to quiet him. He heard some one call his name, and imagined for a moment that he recognized Eva’s voice.

“ She has guessed what’s happened,” thought Billy, " and she’s anxious for him,” and he turned away bitterly, with no wish but to keep out of sight, — to get away from Eva and her kind-hearted old father, who had always been so good to him. The idea of escaping the penalty of his act did not occur to him ; never to be seen or heard of again by any one here who had known him, was all he cared for.

He never knew exactly how the rest of that night wore away. He struck into the corn-field first, thinking its dark aisles would afford him a safe hidingplace from immediate pursuit ; but he kept seeing in the swaying blades the man’s wildly waving arms, and in their rustle he heard his heavy groan. “ Shall I always remember them?” he asked himself, as he stumbled on desperately over the rough ground. He felt a great relief when at last he had crossed the field, and found himself on the open prairie beyond. He stood for a moment on the edge of this broad expanse, now buried in the darkness and stillness of the night. It seemed endless, boundless, a great stretch of void and awful space. In spite of his familiarity with the prairies he could not keep off a feeling of loneliness, a sense of solitude that was fearful to him. That he had need to be alone and solitary but made him dread it the more. The cause of the feeling was identical with the reason for the necessity ; and the stillness, the monotony, the extent, the emptiness, of the prairie came over him with a power he had never dreamed of before. This silent, unseen force had dwelt in the prairie and its attributes from the beginning of time ; but he had never realized its nature and immensity till now, — and now it seemed to crush him. He knew the change was in himself, and he thought with a great fear of the years of days and nights he was to live in the widest and dreariest of those unchanging prairies. “ 1 wonder why 1 can’t think of the first part of my life there,” he said, meaning the farm, “and not only of the last hour of it.” But he felt that what the last hour had brought forth would be with him distinct and terrible, when all the months of trivial things would have become dim and faded in his memory.

At last he started across the prairie. He had a plan dimly shaped in his head to go to Speedville. He owned a pony, which a young lawyer there was keeping in return for his use. He would claim his pony, and ride up into the Loup country. But he wandered aimlessly over the level ground without thinking of the direction of Speedville, which really lay on the other side of Farmer Fuller’s homestead, lie would have to wait till morning to get his pony, and he would walk until He saw the dawn appearing in the east. It seemed an age before the first pale gleams of morning broke through the long line of low clouds. Billy had felt more in those few hours than he had in his whole lifetime before. He had made his way over miles of level prairie ; he had waded through the shallow water of a broad lagoon ; he had passed through the cold air of several deep ravines. All along he had been peculiarly sensible of the nature of the ground, and had noticed even in the darkness every firmly-grassed buffalo-wallow or hilly group of rabbit-burrows that had lain in his way ; yet in spite of his quickened perceptions for little things, the great, crushing sense of guilt, the vague yet definite feeling of isolation, left their impress on him.

At last, when the dawn began to break, and the slowly brightening east called his attention to his course, he found that he had been going away from Speedville all this while. He had begun to think more collectedly of the measure he should take, and to consider more calmly his material situation apart from his emotional attitude, when suddenly a couple of horsemen rode out of the fading darkness. He was about to follow his first impulse, and lie down in the grass to escape their notice, when one of them Called out, —

“Hello! Is that you, Billy?”

“ Who are you, and what do you want? ” demanded Billy, in reply.

“ Oh, there ’s no need for that sort of talk, now. The other one is caught, and you are wasting your time hunting for him around here, a dozen miles from where he is safely tied in old man Fuller’s barn.”

Here Tige ran up to Billy, and began to show his joy at finding him. It was plain how the dog had led them to him, but what the fellow was talking about was not so evident.

“ Who are you ? ” asked Billy again, as they rode up to him.

“Oh, yes, I forgot; we have never been introduced, but I have heard a good deal of you. I ’m Robert Phillips, — call me Bob, though ; everybody else does, — and this is our new hand, Jake Lewis.”

Billy was more perplexed than ever ; he could understand but one thing, — here was the man, whom he thought he had killed, in flesh and blood before him. He stood and patted the demonstrative dog in silence, trying to see through it all, and wondering if he had had a dream.

“You had better get down, Jake,” said Bob, “ and let Billy have your pony. He has done some lively walking to-night, and is tired, I ’ll bet you. We ’ll send some one back to meet you, with an extra pony, as soon as we get to the house; ” and while Billy was yet absently speculating, he found himself riding back towards Fuller’s by the side of Robert Phillips.

“ I guess the fellow you winged is pretty sore,” presently begun the latter, “ but the doctor thinks he will get over it.”

“ Who was he ? ” asked Billy.

“ Nobody knows. I fancy he belongs to a regular gang of horse-thieves on the Kansas border; there’s been a good deal of ” —

“ Oh, I see,” interrupted Billy, and he drew a long breath of relief.

“It was lucky for old man Fuller that you happened to be around ; otherwise he’d have been minus a pretty batch of live stock this morning,” resumed Phillips, after they had ridden a short time in silence. “ But see here, Billy,” he asked, suddenly, “ how did you come to follow the other fellow on foot ? He gave you the slip early, for he was caught in the other direction.”

“ I don’t know, exactly,” answered Billy. “ I was excited, and the horse broke away, and — well, I did n’t think.”

“It’s strange what queer things a person will do in excitement.”

“ Yes, it is,” said Billy, with fervor. “ I want to ask you, Mr. Phillips ” —

“ Bob,” corrected the other.

“Well, I want to ask you when you left the house last night.”

“ Oh ! ” answered Phillips, uneasily ; there was not enough light for Billy to see the honest fellow redden. “ I did n’t stay long. You saw when I came up ? Well, I only stayed a few minutes.”

“ Did n’t you go in ? ”

“ No ; it did n’t take me long to find out I was — that you — that is — well, you are a lucky fellow, Billy,” Phillips managed to say at last, riding near and offering his hand. “ I wish you all the joy and happiness, you know, and — well, I would like to be in your boots, that’s all ; but no bad blood. If we are to be neighbors, we ’ll be friends, eh?”

“We will that” said Billy, wringing his proffered hand, and thinking what the memory of this frank young fellow might have been to him. “ Who are inside ? ” he asked, when they reached the house.

“ Nobody but the folks, I guess, and the doctor, may be. You go right in,” Phillips continued, as they dismounted:

“ there’s somebody there will be glad ’ to see you. I ’ll go out to the stable and see how the captured birds and their guard are getting along, and send some one back after Jake.”

Billy gave over the pony to Phillips and went up to the door. The sun was just peeping over the bank of clouds that for a time had been holding back the full radiance of his morning brightness ; and as Eva opened the door, and ran out to meet her lover, and throw her arms around his neck, and weep sweet tears of humble penitence and proud joy, he rose clear of the obstructing clouds, and sent a flood of light and warmth along the rolling prairies. The glad, bright day had come, and the chill and gloom and heavy darkness of the night were things of the past.

The old farmer came to the door, and then, turning back hastily, he remarked to his wife that it was going to be another good day for the corn.

Frank Parks.