Identifier: harpersnew0109various (find matches)
Title: Harper's New Monthly Magazine Volume 109 June to November 1904
Year: 1904 (1900s)
Authors: various
Subjects:
Publisher: New York: Harper & Brothers Publishers
Contributing Library: Brigham Young University-Idaho, David O. McKay Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Brigham Young University-Idaho

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o me then; but to-baccos never tobacco till its burnt, andthe Irishman smiled fondly upon hisstumpy black pipe. They sat and talked over the fire (fora fire is good company in the mountains,even of a midsummer evening) with thatfreedom and abandon which the isolation,the hour, and the circumstances begot.Kerry had told his name, his birthplace,the habits and temperament of his par-ents, his present hopes and aspirations—barring one; he had even sketched anoutline of Katy—Katy, who was waitingfor him to save enough to buy that littlefarm in the West; and his host, listeningin the unbroken silence of deep sym-pathy, had not yet offered even so muchas his name. Then the bed was divided, a bundleof fern and pine boughs being disposedin the opposite corner of the cave forthe newcomers accommodation. Later,after good-nights had been exchangedand Kerry fancied that his host wasasleep, he himself stirred, sat up, andbeing in uneasy need of informationas to whether the cave door should not
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Half-tone plate engraved by A. Lockhardt HE BOUND UP THE WOUNDED HAND WITH HIS OWN HANDKERCHIEF 3S HARPERS MONTHLY MAGAZINE. be stopped in some manner, opened witha hesitating, Say! You might jest call me i^ndy, thedeep voice answered, before the mountain-man negatived the proposition of addinga front door to the habitation. Kerry slept again. Mountain air andweariness are drugs potent against a badconscience, and it was broad daylight out-side the cave when he wakened. He wasa little surprised to find his host stillsleeping, yet his experience told himthat the wound was of a nature to inducefever, followed by considerable exhaus-tion. As the Irishman lifted his coatfrom where he had had it folded into abundle beneath his head, the handcuffs inthe pocket clicked, and he frowned. Hestole across to look at the man who hadcalled himself Andy, lying now at easeupon his bed of leaves, one great armunderneath his head, the injured handnursed upon his broad breast. Those bigeyes which had so

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