THE TWO TRAILS
		   Written by Tom Proctor in 1920s

	In the year 1887 in the little town of D.... old Lucky sat counting an 
immense sum of money. Bills of huge denominations were stacked high before 
the old man. His long jet-black hair hung in wavy mane-like ropes over his 
shoulders and covered his huge neck as completely as if a fleece were rolled 
about him.
	It was known that Lucky had amassed a fortune, but the amount was known 
only to him. The man who amassed it knew how to keep it.
	From out of the sumach and sassafras came two men to the door of Lucky's 
home. This great sum of money so temptingly displayed caused the men to 
stand in wonder and amazement. Surely, here was money beyond one's dreams. 
They turned to each other neither daring to speak what was uppermost in his 
mind. The eyes of old Lucky intent on the gold, bills, and coins before him 
knew not of their approach.
	With cat-like tread they moved back among the bushes from which they had 
just emerged.
	"Bob, if old Lucky should die tonight and leave us with all of his money 
what would we do with it?"
	"Well, Bill, you know I'm tempted to say that we ought to look after that 
money for him, he's just an old cuss, never did get married and never will". 
I'm going to get Rosa Dell that lives over on Sand Mountain but I think old 
Lucky might divide with us".
	"Yes, Bob, but when Lucky divides, we'll make the division. One time will 
suit old Lucky as well as another I think".
	While this dialogue was passing between the two boys, quite a different one 
was taking place on Sand Mountain.
	The leaves were turning red, golden, russet and brown as Rosa Dell was 
standing among the goldenrods and watching the bees that were making their 
farewell visit to the autumnal flowers. The Divine Painter had given the 
world his masterpiece. The summer was dying. Autumn was dressed in robes of 
beauty and the long summer days were history. History, because there was 
written upon her life, the love and joy that makes men heroes and the bosom 
of women throb with happiness.
	When Rosa Dell looked back over the pages of the past not cloud hung in the 
sky.
	There was a strong young man with rich red blood that had looked into her 
azure blue eyes, and had asked her to be the companion of his life.
	She was living this scene over again when the lover came up the path and 
was standing at her side before she was aware of his presence.
	"Sweetheart, may I look with you?" "Oh John, you startled me, I did not see 
you coming".
	"No, you were so interested in the scene before you, you failed to hear me 
approach. What so occupied your mind, dear?"
	"Well, I think of a world of things," and then the deep color that came 
into her cheeks showed the fine young man that he too had a place in the 
heart of that fair maiden.
	The young lovers continued making plans for their home and future, the day 
lengthened they returned to the home where Rosa Dell had spent her 21 
summers. Here we leave the young lovers while we search out Bob and Bill.
	Bob and Bill, so far as strength and size were concerned in rugged, 
reckless living, they had been like animals, taking what they could get in a 
most roguish way. There were crimes laid to the charge of those who brought 
them into the world. Born of ignoble parentage, raised to ignore God and 
man. The boys usually found enough chickens that they could be caught to 
keep them in what money they had to have.
	Times were growing alarming with them when they saw the pile of money that 
Lucky had displayed before him. As the matter of taking the life of Lucky 
was a scene they did not care to look upon, they concluded to cry some plan 
by which their fortune could be obtained.
	There in the darkness the plan was laid. They would watch for old Lucky to 
carry that money to a hiding place and then get it.
	 Sure enough, as they came to the home, Lucky hid the money; but great 
disappointment was written on their faces when they saw him move his bed and 
then raise one of the boards of the floor, put the money down and cleverly 
place the post of his bedstead on the board that covered the money.
	When the face of Bob met Bill's it was one of whiteness. "The old devil is 
not going to divide unless we make him. Well, we will go in and tell him 
that we thought we would like for him to divide up."
	Presently the boys rapped on Lucky's door and after some questioning were 
admitted. Old Lucky was a keen observer and was on his guard when one of the 
boys said, "Lucky, we want you to loan us some of your money".
	"Well, what security can you give that you will repay me?"
	"That depends o the interest you charge."
	"I charge 8 percent."
	Over the old man came a shadow as he saw the two boys nod and wink. "Well, 
you fellows pass on and we will examine your security later." But they 
waited yet another hour and still another while Lucky grew more uneasy. When 
the clock tolled the hour of twelve they sat trying to make up their minds 
to destroy the life that stood between them and that vast fortune that lay 
concealed beneath the floor of the room.
	When men stoop to the last round of degradation there is a hand that grips 
the mind and makes the aggressor tremble in hand and conscience. Old Lucky 
knew if he left the room for help, that his money would be taken, and then 
he did not wish to announce to the world that he kept it in the room. 
Finally the evil spirits conquered and the life of Lucky was weighed over 
against the gold. The boys find that death will be the next move in their 
plan.
	"Lucky, look here, we are here for that money so you may as well hand it 
over". The long haired man begins to beg, but his entreaties are now falling 
on deaf ears. A flash of a long blade and the struggle of two against one 
whose age is against him, the blade passes under Lucky's chin from ear to 
ear. A great gaping, yawning bleeding wound, a quivering of the muscles and 
all is still. "Is he dead? Let's throw him in that old well and make sure of 
it". The body of Lucky is carried and thrown in the open well. The money is 
put into sacks and the murders make their way to the river where the blood 
is partly washed from their garments.
	Next morning old Lucky is missed. The little town of D..., failing for some 
days to see the old man, search and find his body.
	D..., has been a town as far back as the oldest settler can remember. The 
Indians here met the white man that first came up the great Sac River to 
trade. Not since the beginning of its history has anything caused more 
excitement. Who is the guilty party? The question is sent out by the town 
people-who killed old Lucky?
	There at the bank of the old Sac River a boat was taken and the money 
carried down to old Son's creek mouth, then up the creek to a cave. The 
reader must pass with the writer now to the south bank of Son's creek where 
there is a cave of huge dimensions. To This great dark cavern the boys are 
making their way.
	Here we must introduce another and very important character. Son's creek 
contains some of the finest fishing in this part of the state. Coming down 
one of these long, deep rocky holes of water is old Jeff Cain. He heard the 
knock of the oars before they saw or heard him. There is a little neck of 
water that may yet be seen to this very day. Back up this neck the old 
boatman almost silently glided. He slipped quietly under drooping willows 
and waited for the appearance of the boat. The boys made the landing while 
old Jeff sat breathless. This small hour of the morning, what could they be 
going to the cave for?
	"Bob, you made a death lick," said Bill. "I felt him quiver and then grow 
heavy and I knew you had sent him to hell."
	"Yes, Bill, but there is as much blood on you as there is on me."
	What can this strange talk mean, said old Jeff to himself. Why did they go 
into that cave. The moments passed and the old fisherman waited until he saw 
the two men step into the boat and start down the river. Conscience is a 
hard master and lays his hand of gloom on the aggressor. The All-Seeing Eye, 
The Unseen hand that held these murderers under His gaze and grip made an 
air of sombre gloom to engulf the two that had shed old Lucky's blood.
	Old Jeff Cain made an excuse to go to the homes of these two young men as 
the hour of day approached. He noted their actions and exchange of glances. 
Their sleepy sullen look, a paleness in their faces, with spots of blood 
partly washed from their clothing were marks that did not fail Jeff's eyes.
	But as the months rolled by and no sign of money was displayed, there were 
doubts of the guilt that he could not solve. He kept his council.
	Bob seemed to have disappeared as if he dropped from the face of the earth. 
Not one trace of the missing Bob could anyone obtain. Bill searched long and 
earnestly for his partner in guilt and crime, but he had left no one 
remaining trace or track. This puzzled old Jeff equally as much. Neither 
able to answer the question that was struggling in his mind. Fear of being 
detected kept Bill from the cave.
	Secretly old Jeff would go to the cave and, wandering by, turn away. "There 
must be a dead wolf in that cave, something smells loud, but I can't locate 
it. Looks like a man ought to be able to see a thing that stinks like that." 
These conclusions were worth but little to the public, so he kept them to 
himself. The bad odor from the cave by degrees died away and men began to 
talk less of old Lucky's death.
	Here the reader is asked to follow the trail that leads round the hill to 
the home of the girl we left in the twilight. Standing side by side the 
lovers are watching the sun pale in the far off sky. They walk back hand in 
hand again to the fireside's ruddy glow. But this time the plans for their 
wedding day have been completed. Christmas shall see them safely housed in 
their new home. A happy year rolls away and some time later a blue eyed baby 
boy was born in the home of John and Rosa. Year after year the boy grew, the 
pride and joy of that home, John his father has a look of pride as he and 
the boy go out and come in together.
	As I gaze back upon that home and see it in its loveliness, serenity and 
happiness, a feeling of pleasure steals over me as I write.
	The boy is a constant topic with them and is petted and loved as a baby. 
His deep blue eyes, his well made face and sound body were evidences of the 
clean life of his parents.
	They are living now on the old farm on which the cave is located. That cave 
is one of his favorite resorts. To the old cave he strolled one beautiful 
summer afternoon.
	But something happened, white and almost seppchless with excitement, he 
came running to the field hwere his father was plowing and for some moments 
the face white with terror gave his father some alarm, seeing no marks of 
injury on the lad he was at quite a loss of conjecture the trouble.
	He took the frightened lad in his arms and quieted back to a normal 
condition as near as he could, then tried to get the account of what had 
happened.
	"Papa, I was at the cave and as I was playing there I saw a string hanging 
from the crevice of the rock. I just took hold of the string to see how it 
came to be fastened there and as I pulled it this way and that,' said the 
boy, moving his hand from right to left, "and the rock moved to the right 
and I thought there might be another room to the cave up there, so I piled 
up some rock and climbed up there and it was just a big flat shell rock that 
covered the hole, when I pushed it back the string was fastened to 
somebody's clothes, and there are bones in there ‘cause one of them rolled 
out on me. Seeing them bones there made me run so, and that was part of his 
body, papa".
	Soon a bunch of neighbors were assembled at the cave for investigation. 
There was a small room as the boy had said. When the men had climbed up 
there and the light of the lantern shown on the contents of the room a 
gruesome spectacle presented itself.
	There was a skeleton the hand of which as it rolled down had so frightened 
the boy. There was the sum of money in the two sacks that years before had 
been hidden away. At the sight of it, the missing Bob came into their minds. 
Here was gold and silver.
	Bob had evidently gone to the cave with a view of helping himself. There he 
had put his head through the opening of the great rocks and then extending 
his length , the rock on which his feet rested had given away, slid down and 
shut off the opening from public view. There were the conjectures of those 
who examined the cave, seeing the skull still in the opening of the rock.
	"The wheels of justice grind slowly," is an old proverb, yet here are the 
two trails before us. The one of love and complete happiness, the other of a 
life of terror by bight and dread by day. When Bob disappeared, Bill lived 
in constant gloom and remorse. He would have gone to the old cave and 
obtained the money but the thought of old Lucky's blood and the fear that 
someone might discover him and learn his secret kept him back. The men 
leaned forward and gazed at the weird, strange sight, and upon some old 
paper, brown and musty with dampness and age, they found Bob's name.
	Old Jeff now relates the story of that night when he glided under the 
willows and listened to the few strange words that he could never fathom. 
Men began to connect the close association of the two boys and then the 
strange actions of Bill soon led to his arrest.
	On the witness stand, Mr. Crain now aged and gray and shaking, tells of the 
blood that still remained in the clothes, of the downcast look, the apparent 
guilt, and the actions of this man when the discovery of the skeleton was 
made.
	White and trembling, Bill took the witness stand and.....But wait, here is 
the story as it came from his own lips or rather as it came from a vault."I 
thought this was buried. It has been here so long," touching his heart, "but 
has been laying here and while old Lucky's body rotted yonder in his grave, 
and Bob slowly dying and decaying in the old cave, the thought of that blood 
has all these years been a load of dread that I am going this day to lay 
down. If old Lucky's dead body had been buried in the bosom of my soul it 
could not have weighted heavier.
	"In the middle of the night I have waked with a start because blood was 
running all over my body. He has come night after night for years at a time, 
covered me with his blood and begged me not to kill him. I have leaped in 
the darkness because he suddenly grabbed me. Sometimes I have tried to pray 
but his blood stood between me and the altar of God.
	"I look in the glass and I see my hair is a ghastly white and my face has 
grown with fear, dread and remorse. I want the relief that comes to a man 
that pays a just debt. Judge, before I stand before that High Court I want 
to make a clean breast of it. Bob Drange and I cut Lucky's throat and 
spilled his blood and threw his body in that open well. Though Bob perished 
with his head between the rocks I have suffered all these years with the 
load of guilt on my soul." He sat down and if old Lucky had stood before 
him, there could not have been a more ghastly pallor spread over his face.
	Here let me pull the curtain as quickly as possible.
	I see the roads are lined with people coming from every direction. A 
scaffold is standing in the northwest corner of the courthouse yard near 
where a fountain now stands. The town has never witnessed such a crowd. Bill 
marches to the scaffold, puts the rope around his neck and pulls the black 
cap over his face and calls out to the man at this side to hurry and the 
body is dangling in the air. And the soul goes to meet God and his accuser.
									The End


Received in email May 2001 from Nancy Davis.